Web Site Story (5 page)

'Would it be possible for me to speak to any of the patients?' Kelly asked.

'Possibly later. They're currently being interviewed by a policeman and a fireman. Not that they'll get anything from them. They seem to have lost the power of speech and hearing as well, as far as I can make out. I could give your back a quick rub, if you like, my dear. Or perhaps take you to dinner?'

Kelly's fingers twisted at strands of her golden hair. 'Thanks, but no thanks,' she said. 'Derek is taking me out to dinner tonight.'

'Am I?' said Derek.

'Yes,' said Kelly. 'You are.'

There are many splendid eateries in Brentford. There is Archie Karachi's Star of Bombay Curry Garden in the Baling Road. Wang Yu's Chinese Chuckaway in Albany Crescent. The Wife's Legs Cafe down at the end of Half Acre. And the Laughing Sprout, Brentford's only vegetarian restaurant, which tucks itself away at the bottom of Horseferry Lane, near to the river, where no-one has to look at it much. It's a very romantic little venue, but it doesn't serve any meat.

Derek was a young man who very much liked his meat. His father, a man made wise with many years, had told him the value of protein. 'Eat meat and keep your bowels open and trust in the Lord, if the need should arise,' were the words his father spoke on the subject, and words Derek never forgot. He ate up his meat and kept his bowels open and would no doubt one day trust in the Lord, if the need ever arose.

A little after eight of the evening clock, he led Kelly Anna Sirjan through the door of the Laughing Sprout and was directed by the waiter to the table for two that overlooked the river.

'I believe this to be safe,' said Derek, as he pulled out a chair for Kelly. 'The chances of being hit by a river-boat are, in my opinion, quite remote.'

'It's very nice here,' said Kelly. 'Do you come here often?'

The lie that might have sprung from his lips did not even enter his head. 'No,' said Derek. 'I've never been here before. But I'm right assuming you're a vegetarian?'

'How did you get on after I left the hospital? You said you were going to the bus depot.'

Derek seated himself and toyed with his serviette. 'I did. I checked the bookings for the bus tour. There was one other tourist aboard. The son of the lady with the unpronounceable name.'

'So whatever happened to him?'

'Search me,' said Derek. 'He wasn't on the bus when we helped the others. Perhaps he just got off and walked away.'

'And left his mother? That's very strange.'

'Everything is strange about that crash. I talked to some of the eyewitnesses. They say the driver wasn't steering the bus, that he was flapping his hands about and going crazy.'

'Had he been drinking, or something?'

'Not according to Dr Druid. I took the liberty of asking him to call me if there were any developments. If the patients got their memories back or anything.'

'And do you think he will?'

'I also took the liberty of mentioning money. There might be a story here. A big story. I wouldn't want the nationals to get to it first.'

'You'd like the exclusive all for yourself

Derek made a sour face. 'I spent two hours typing it all up, simply to be told by Mr Shields that he was covering the story and I should just clear off home.'

'Will we be seeing a picture of Chalky the doll on tomorrow's front page?'

'I shouldn't be at all surprised.'

The waiter, an eastern European type, dressed in gypsy trappings, was hovering near with the wine list and now made polite coughings.

'Ah yes,' said Derek. 'What would you like to drink, Kelly?'

'A glass of red wine please.'

'A glass of red wine then,' Derek said to the waiter. 'And do you have any beers?'

'We do Sprout Lager, sir. It has to be tasted to be believed.'

'Two red wines it is then.'

The waiter nodded and turned to leave and then he turned back again. 'Excuse me please, sir,' he said. 'But I couldn't help overhearing your conversation.'

'Ah,' said Derek, thoughtfully.

'It's just that, well, you see, my sister, she saw the crash happen.'

'Really,' said Derek. 'How interesting.'

'I don't think you really meant that,' whispered Kelly.

'I think he overheard me speak of money,' whispered Derek.

'Oh no, sir,' said the waiter. 'It isn't that. I don't ask for money. It's only that my sister was greatly troubled by the thing she saw.'

'Seeing an accident is never pleasant,' said Derek. 'But your sister will get over it in time.'

'Oh no, sir. I don't think she will. Not with the thing she saw.'

'Go on,' said Derek.

'Well, sir, I overhear you say about the lady's son, missing from the crash. My sister see him come down from the top deck of the bus. She say he looked very frightened and lost as if he don't know where he is. His eyes all staring and scared. Then he turn around and walk into the wall of the shop next door to the Plume Cafe.'

'Did he injure himself?' Derek asked.

'No, sir, you misunderstand me. He walk
into
the wall.
Into it.
Like a ghost. He walk into the wall and he vanish.'

Derek looked at Kelly.

And Kelly looked at Derek.

'Most amusing,' said Derek. 'You had us going there. Two red wines it is then, thank you.'

'No, sir.' The waiter looked most agitated. 'I'm not pulling at your plonker nor anything. This is what she see with her own two eyes. In the broad daylight. He come down from the bus and he walk into the wall and he vanish. She see it and it trouble her greatly. She honest and church-going. She say it a very bad omen. She say the Devil walk amongst us in Brentford.'

'I don't think things have got quite that bad yet,' said Derek. 'But you
are
serious, aren't you?'

'You can see that he is,' said Kelly.

'Serious,' said the waiter. 'I not like to tell people of this. But I hear you say that everything seem strange about the bus that is crashing. Everything more than strange, I tell you. Everything evil. Best beware.'

The waiter now speedily took his leave and went to fetch the wine.

'Things are never dull around you, are they?' said Kelly.

'They were until you arrived today. But what did you make of all that?'

Kelly shrugged and smiled a bit. But her fingers were once more twisting at her hair.

'It's got to be a wind-up,' said Derek. 'Having one over on the gullible newspaper man.'

Derek's mobile phone began to purr away in his pocket. He took it out, pressed buttons and put it to his ear.

'What's that?' he said. 'Sorry I can't hear you very well. Excuse me Kelly, I'll take this outside and try to get a better signal.'

The waiter returned with two red wines and left again, avoiding Kelly's gaze. Kelly watched Derek through the window. He was a good-looking young man. And for a newspaper reporter, he seemed to be honest enough. She saw him thrust his mobile phone back into his pocket and then rush back into the Laughing Sprout.

'Forget the wine,' he said. 'We have to go.'

'You look a little rattled,' Kelly said.

'I'm more than rattled.' Derek took a deep and steadying breath. 'That was Dr Druid on the phone. Something has happened at the cottage hospital.'

'Don't tell me someone has died.'

'Worse than that.'

'How can anything be worse?'

'The three patients with amnesia. They've vanished.’

‘What, you mean they've walked out of the hospital?'

'No,' said Derek. 'I mean they just vanished. Right in front of Dr Druid's eyes.'

It was a balmy Brentford evening

Calm and clear of sky.

Sirius, brightest star of Heaven

Gazed down from on high.

And a zephyr, lightly blowing from the

Gardens, south at Kew

Brought the fragrances of lilies

And of antique roses too

All across the Thames to Brentford

Where the borough, bound for night,

Breathed in the sacred perfume

Dum de dum de dum delight.

There was no delight to be found on the face of Dr Druid. He sat in the waiting room of casualty, being comforted by a pair of nurses dressed in the kind of medical style that you just don't see any more. Consisting, as it did, of white high heels, fishnet stockings, short slashed skirt and tightly fitting blouse with several buttons missing from the top. The dress code had been instigated by Dr Druid, who held a lot of clout at the cottage hospital.

At the arrival of Derek and Kelly Anna, Dr Druid waved away the nurses. The taller of the two, the bearded one called Gavin, said, 'Call us if you need, us, Dr Druid.'

'Thank you,' said the doctor, and he gave Gavin's bottom a pat.

'Outrageous,' said Kelly.

'I know,' said the doctor. 'But what good is having power, if you don't abuse it every once in a while?'

Derek shook his head and Kelly began to tease at her hair. 'Do you want to tell us all about it?' Derek asked.

'In confidence,' said the medic. 'And on the understanding that no blame whatsoever attaches to my person. I want it to be made clear that I did everything I could for those patients and that no trace of fault can be laid at my door. I am innocent of all charges.'

Derek took from his pocket one of those miniature tape-recording jobbies that newspaper reporters always carry in their pockets, and which have an uncanny habit of switching themselves on and recording incriminating information when the reporter has sworn upon the life of his ancient white-haired old mother that all he is being told is 'strictly off the record'.

'I assume you want this strictly
on the record,'
said Derek.

'Absolutely,' said the doctor. 'And none of it's my fault.'

'Yes, I'll make that very clear. Now what
exactly
happened?'

'They vanished!'
shrieked the doctor, his face turning pale and his eyes growing round as those of the owl known as Tawny. 'Right in front of me. They just faded away. Then they were gone. Gone, I tell you, gone.'

'Gone?' said Derek, shaking his head. 'They really just vanished? Right in front of your eyes?'

The doctor now spoke in the whisper known as hoarse. 'I know what it is,' he whispered. 'I'm not stupid. I know what it is.'

'Go on,' said Derek.

'This is
off the record,'
said the doctor.

Derek made a show of pressing tape-recorder buttons. Strangely the recorder continued to record.

'Go on,' Derek said once more.

'The Rapture,' said the doctor, round eyes darting upwards, head upon his shoulders going nod, nod, nod.

'The
what?'
Derek asked.

'The Rapture,' said Kelly. 'The Fundamental Christian interpretation of several texts from the Book of Revelation. They have it that at the time of the Tribulation, when the Antichrist comes to power, the righteous will be carried aloft to Heaven. Bodily. One moment they will be among us and the next moment, gone. Vanished.'

Derek stared at Kelly and then he stared at Dr Druid. 'You have got to be joking,' he said.

'No,' said the doctor, shakily shaking his head. 'They went, whoosh, gone, vanished. They might be the first, but they won't be the last. But people won't believe the truth. People never do. They'll blame other people. They'll blame me.'

The doctor, now shaking terribly, buried his face in his hands.

'He's taking it well,' said Derek.

Kelly shot him the kind of glance that suggested that his remark was at best indiscreet and at worst, something far more ghastly than that.

'Sorry,' whispered Derek. 'But come on now. This is clearly getting ridiculous.'

'And the waiter's sister? This would be a coincidence I suppose?'

'Could we have a look at the ward?' Derek asked.

Dr Druid unburied his head. 'The ward?' he asked in return.

'Where the patients vanished. There might be clues.'

'Clues?' Kelly whispered.

'Clues!' Derek whispered back. 'There will be an explanation for this.'

'There is,' said Dr Druid. 'It's The Rapture. They vanished at precisely eight minutes past eight, I looked at my watch. I'll just bet that means something, like the Beast 666.'

'Possibly an explanation that does not involve the Coming of the Antichrist and the onset of Armageddon.'

'All right,' said Dr Druid, hauling himself into the vertical plane. Til show you the ward. But it won't do you any good. It's The Rapture for certain and I am not one of the chosen. And if anything, that's what upsets me the most about this. I've spent my life in the service of others. If there was ever anyone deserving of being wafted up to Heaven, then that person is-surely me. It's all so bitterly unfair.'

'Perhaps they're being taken in shifts,' said Kelly. 'I'm sure that if it is The Rapture, you'll be getting exactly what you deserve.'

'That's a comfort,' said the rattled doc. 'I think.'

'Come on,' said Derek. 'Show us the ward.'

A lady, looking pretty in pink, now entered the waiting room.

She tottered on preposterous Doveston holistic shoes with nine-inch platform soles. The platforms of the shoes appeared to be transparent, little pink lights twinkled within, and lit up tiny plastic busts of a guru called Hugo Rune.

The lady in pink came a-tottering up to Dr Druid.

'What have you done with my husband?' she demanded to be told.

'Your husband, madam?' asked the doctor.

'Big Bob Charker, I'm his better half.'

'Ah,' said Dr Druid and his round eyes flickered at Derek.

'He's sleeping,' said Derek. 'He's under sedation, you'd better come back in the morning.'

'Oh,' said Minky Charker. 'So he's all right then? He'll live?'

'Absolutely,' said Derek. Kelly shot him another terrible glance.

'And who are you?' asked Minky.

'I'm a specialist.'

'Really? Are you?'

'Yes, I am.'

'And what do you specialize in?'

'Bullshit apparently,' whispered Kelly. 'I do love your shoes, by the way.' And she smiled upon Minky.

'They're the very latest fashion. Made of poly-synthacarbon dextroglutimatacide. They channel Earth energy right up the back of my legs. I've lost five pounds since I started wearing them this morning.'

'That is surely impossible,' said Derek.

'No, really. I had it in my purse, but I think it must have fallen out. Still, my impetigo's cleared up and my nipples are as hard as a pair of aniseed balls.'

'I'd better have a look at those,' said Dr Druid.

'We should be getting along to the ward,' said Derek.

'Yes we really should,' said Kelly. 'Goodnight to you, Mrs Charker.'

'Couldn't I come to the ward too?' Minky asked.

'Er no,' said Dr Druid. 'I'm afraid not. You can go to my consulting room and disrobe, if you want to.'

'I'm not particularly keen,' said Minky.

'Then goodnight to you madam.'

'Goodnight doctor.'

Dr Druid turned and led Derek and Kelly away to the general ward.

'Oh doctor,' called Minky. 'Just one thing before you go.'

'Yes?' said Dr Druid, turning back.

'Nurse Gavin is my sister,' said Minky.

'Oh,' said Dr Druid, in a low deep long and terribly sorry sort of way.

'Yes,' said Minky. 'And she rang me five minutes ago to tell me that Big Bob has been carried away in The Rapture.'

'Oh,' said the doctor, deeper and lower still this time.

'So one of you is lying,' said Minky. 'And I don't think it's my sister. Bearded women never he; it's a circus sideshow tradition. Like eating quails' eggs when the moon is new, and posting early for Christmas.'

'Oh,' and 'oh,' the doctor said again.

'You'd better come with us,' said Derek.

'I think I better had,' said Big Bob's better half.

Derek gave the general ward a specific looking-over.

He peered under beds, he peered into bedpans, he peered behind curtains and into cupboards. He peered and then he poked about and then he peered some more.

'He'll ruin his eyes with all that peering,' said Minky. 'I had a brother once who used to peer. The wind changed twice and he was stuck with the kind of moustache that only comes off with turps.'

'I'm sure I've heard that line somewhere before,' said Derek, looking up from his peering and poking.

'There's nothing new upon God's Earth,' said Minky. 'Except for The Rapture, of course. That's new, but it has been expected.'

'You believe in it then, do you?' Kelly asked.

'Well you have to believe in something, don't you dear? My uncle used to believe that he was the reincarnation of Jesus. He was a Buddhist, you see. So he had the best of both worlds. He had the stigmata and when we were kiddies, he used to let us put our fingers through the holes in his hands. When he fell asleep we'd fill his holes with plasticine. You don't see plasticine around any more, do you dear? It's gone the way of crazy foam, Potty Putty and X-ray specs. Not to mention the see-back-oscope.'

'The see-back-oscope?' Kelly asked.

'I told you not to mention that!'

'Sorry,' said Kelly, twisting her hair into terrible knots.

'That's an awful nervous habit you have there,' Minky observed. 'You should see a specialist. But not that one doing all the peering. He'll soon be needing glasses.'

'Excuse me for saying this,' said Kelly. 'But you do appear to be quite untroubled about the possibility that your husband has been carried off by The Rapture.'

'It's the way he would have wanted to go.'

'Is it?'

'Well, he did mention once about wanting to be shot by a jealous husband when caught making passionate love to a twenty-year-old lap dancer, during the celebration of his ninety-third birthday. But men will say anything when you have one of their vital parts held tightly in your hand, won't they dear?'.

Tm sure your husband has been yearning for The Rapture,' said Kelly. 'I know I would.'

'You're too kind. So young man, with all your peering and poking, have you come to any conclusions?'

'I think I might need glasses,' said Derek. 'But there is some stuff on these sheets here.'

'Don't look at me,' said Dr Druid.

'Some residue,' said Derek.

'I said, don't look at me.'

'I'd like to take some samples. To get them analysed.'

Tm a doctor,' said Dr Druid. 'I could analyse them.'

'An independent analyst.'

'Spoily sport,' said the doctor.

'Just one thing,' said Minky. 'Just one. Where do I stand regarding my husband's life insurance policy? Will I be able to claim the money without a body? I mean, well, with him being taken bodily into Heaven. That's an Act of God, isn't it? And Acts of God aren't covered.'

'Good point,' said Dr Druid. 'There'd have to be a test case. I'll bet the insurance company won't pay up. They'd have to pay up on millions of policies, if they did.'

'That's most unfair of God,' said Minky. 'Rapturing away my husband and leaving me penniless. I've a good mind to change my religion. And come to think of it, how come God chose to Rapture up my Big Bob? I'm much nicer than he is. I'm the one who should have been Raptured.'

Kelly turned to Derek. 'I think we should go,' she said. 'There's nothing to be found here.'

Derek produced a pocket camera. Til just take one or two photographs,' he said.

'That seems sensible.'

'Yes it does,' said Minky. 'Do you want me to take my top off?'

Kelly looked at Derek.

Derek shook his head. Rather sadly, it seemed to Kelly.

'Oh go on,' said Dr Druid. 'You know that you want to.'

'And to think,' said Kelly. 'I almost liked you.'

'What?' said Derek. 'What?'

They sat in the bar of the Flying Swan, Brentford's finest alehouse. Eight premier hand-drawn beers on pump and an ambience that said that here was well and truly, truly, truly and most truly once and for ever again, a pub.

'You behaved like a total prat back there,' said Kelly. 'You lied and you connived and you actually had that woman take her top off.'

'I'm sorry,' said Derek. 'I went into newspaperman mode. But there is a story here, there's no doubt of that.'

'The Rapture?'

'Not The Rapture. That doctor's up to something.'

'I've no doubt at all about that.'

'I don't believe in vanishing patients. There's a more logical explanation. Medical malpractice probably. The illicit selling of organs. Things of that nature.'

'I've misjudged you,' said Kelly.

Derek smiled.

'No, I mean you
are
a total prat. No doubt whatsoever about it.'

'Come on now. Be fair.'

'Something happened in that hospital. Something bizarre. Something paranormal.'

'Rot,' said Derek. 'I mean, well, I disagree.'

'Come off it,' said Kelly. 'No doctor is going to make up the story that his patients vanished in front of his eyes. He could have said that they discharged themselves. He could have said anything. But not that. He called you because he didn't want to be blamed. He made that clear enough. No money was involved.'

'People don't just vanish,' said Derek.

'They do,' said Kelly. 'There have been cases, the Earl of Bathhurst, Kasper Hauser, Amy Johnson, Glenn Miller, Lord Lucan, Richard Branson

'Unexplained disappearances. That's not the same as just vanishing. And you seem to know a lot about this sort of business. You knew about The Rapture and everything.'

'I read a lot,' said Kelly. 'These things interest me.'

'Well they don't interest me. And although they might interest the readers of the
Weekly World News,
they won't interest the more sensible folk who purchase the
Brentford Mercury.'