Part I: The Strangeness of Fredrick Street - Chapter Ten

In Chapter Ten, the final chapter of Part One, the residents of Fredrick Street come together after their nightmare day. Their lives are changed forever when a stranger turns up to the party.

10

Unloading the shopping, the odd tin escaping from the bag and spinning across the worktop, Sarah was now in a rush against time to get ready for the guests arriving. On coming home from her trip to the shops, she'd went for a nap trying to sleep off the weird feeling she'd had all day. Her little siesta didn't help however, as it was filled with water tanks and grey rooms and the tinkle of a song from a forgotten time. She was still feeling tired now. Perhaps she was overdoing the exercise; perhaps she was over-tired and needed a lie in. Whatever it was though, it would have to wait because tonight was a celebration for the residents of Fredrick Street and she wasn't going to let her tiredness get in the way of it. Hell, she may even have some of the chip and dip she usually avoided. It was about time she let her hair down a little. The shopping away, she poured herself a glass of water from the sink and watched her husband and kids playing out in the garden. Well, playing was a strong word. Morgan was trying to build the BBQ whilst the kids shot at each other with water pistols, occasionally hitting their father with some friendly fire. Watching them play, without a care in the world, always seemed to make Sarah's problems feel smaller and her worries seem futile. Turning away to get the final preparations for this evening ready she took a sip of the water – and immediately spat it out, coughing and spluttering. It wasn't water she'd drank, but what tasted like pure grain vodka. Her throat burning, she picked up the glass and smelled it, the smell of alcohol stinging her nostrils. She looked at the glass then to the sink. It was impossible. She'd poured it straight from the sink. There was no way. Pouring the glass down the drain, she poured another glass and drank. 

Water.

Her heart racing, she drank at the water long and hard. Something was happening. Something very strange was happening to Sarah Barr. 

*

The ride home for Mark and Kim was nigh on silent, without even the radio playing to fill the silence between them. The scan had went fine, Kim having spent most of the journey putting it away and taking it back out again, checking to make sure it was still there whilst Mark continually glanced over to Kim to make sure that it was her face he saw when he looked. Of course, when either asked the other what was wrong, they replied with the same words. "I'm fine. You OK?" with the answer coming back the same. They'd tried to start talking about baby names but the conversation had tailed off, neither making the effort to start it up again. 

Heading into the house, Kim stopped as they approached the front porch. Mark stepped forward to open the door when Kim grabbed his arm, stopping him suddenly.

Mark looked at her, worried. "What is it? What's the matter?"

Kim was quiet and staring at the porch. "Is it....you're going to think I sound crazy but, is it bad luck to walk where a magpie has been killed?"

Staring at her, silent & confused, Mark mouthed wordlessly. "What?"

Kim pointed at the porch. "It's just today, the cat brought a magpie to the door in its mouth. It was dead. He killed it I just...see the blood stains there and a few feathers? I cleaned up as best I could but...is it bad luck to walk where it's been killed?"

Mark thought for a moment. "For the cat, maybe." He smiled, and Kim managed to laugh. 

"OK." She said, nodding and the two of them entered the house.

They entered slowly, Mark checking the pictures that adorned the table in the hallway and the mantelpiece in the living room. They contained pictures of Kim and him, just as they should be. He turned to Kim. "Has there been any more mail?"

Kim shook her head. "Nope, just what was here this morning. Why, are you expecting something?"

"No, no. Just wanted to double check." He paused, thinking of something. "You still want to go over to Sarah's?"

"Course. You?"

"Sure. We can't pull out."

"No. She's doing a nice thing. I'm going to just throw something on just now and we'll head over."

Mark nodded and watched as Kim walked up the stairs. 

As Kim entered her room, and got changed, she picked up her handbag to look at the baby scan one more time. Finding it in the bottom of her bag, she looked at it. It was blank. Panic rising up in her, she sat on the bed, looking away and back at it. Where the image of her unborn child should be was an empty space. It was all she could do not to scream and she jumped as downstairs the phone rang.

Mark approached the ringing phone warily, startled by the sound himself. They didn't get many callers and after the day he'd had he was scared as to who would be on the other end of the phone. Letting it ring to voicemail, he listened as the caller came through the speaker. It was a female voice. 

"Hiya. I was looking to speak to a Mr. Mark Fleming. Or should I say Doctor Mark Fleming." The voice giggled at this and Mark swayed, hoping that Kim couldn't hear. The caller continued. "Anyway, get him to call me back. He has my number. Bye."

Mark held onto whatever surface he could, sweat pouring from him as the call ended. He looked up the stairs, waiting for Kim to come down with questions. Questions he couldn't answer. But she didn't. She was too busy staring at the empty space in the middle of the baby scan. 

Trying to remain calm, Mark cleared his throat. All he wanted to do was get out of the house. Away from whoever that woman was on the phone and whatever was happening to him. Calling up to Kim, Mark tried to sound normal. "Kim honey we better get a move on and head round to Sarah's. You ready?"

"I'll be right there, "Kim called back as she broke her stare with the baby scan and put it back in her pocket, swallowing down the panic and confusion and anger swelling in her throat, and putting on her game face to join Mark downstairs.

*

Arriving home at Fredrick Street, the events at the park pushed to the back of his mind, Albert checked his watch and knew they didn't have long to get ready and join the rest of the street at the celebration Sarah was planning. He was of a generation that no matter what he wanted to do or how you felt, a commitment was a commitment and you had to honour that, even if it was small thing such as this. 

Ushering Betty into the house, who was as smiling and effervescent as she ever was, Albert began rushing about until Betty put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Relax sweetie. They won't start without us. Besides I believe in being fashionably late as a rule of thumb. I'm pretty sure making my tardy entrance into the dance hall all those years ago was what won you over. You remember?" 

Smiling, Albert nodded. "How could I forget?"

"Good." Betty rubbed his arm and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Now, you've got time to make yourself a cup of tea and then we'll be on our way. I'm just going to freshen up." Leaving Albert in the kitchen, Betty stepped up the stairs & Albert flicked the kettle on and settled down for a quick bit of quiet time before having to join the crowd at Sarah's. As he started reading the paper again, from the article he had left it opened at, his mind glanced back over the events at the park earlier that day. It was just the strangest thing, and most distressing mainly because it wasn't something he'd ever went through before. He couldn't put his finger on what the cause was, whether it was the tiredness or something a great deal more sinister in nature. If it wasn't for the nice gentleman in the heavy coat and hat noticing his distress and finding Betty for him he probably would still be wandering the park making a fool of himself, looking like a mad man. It was a little too raw now but he was sure in the weeks to come he and Betty would find it worth chuckling over – she always could make the best of a bad lot, making the unfunny the funniest thing in the world. 

Turning to the kitchen counter to prepare his tea, he took a long hot sip and returned his attention to the paper. Flicking the page, he found the obituaries. Albeit a rather depressing section of the paper, Albert couldn't help smile as he recalled his own grandmother's morbid fascination for this section and was quite often her first destination when reading the paper. However his smile was short lived as his eyes fell upon an entry, which made his heart stop for a moment and his breathing become more erratic. Wedged in between the rest of the poor departed souls, written in black and white, were the words Elizabeth 'Betty' Molineaux. Beloved wife to Albert & mother of Andrew and Amanda. Albert must have stood and re-read it a thousand times, each time his pulse getting a little faster, his throat getting a little dryer and his palms getting a little slicker. He felt sick, the room spun dizzy around him. It couldn't be possible. It couldn't be. Shaking, he stood their frozen, staring at the words written in his wife's obituary, the wife he had moments ago felt touch his arm. Opening his mouth to call for her, the words just wouldn't come. But they didn't need to. Because Betty walked into the kitchen, all ready to go and smiling. 

"What's the matter with you? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Albert stared at her, mouthing wordlessly before looking back to the paper. But the words were gone. The obituary he'd read wasn't there. It was like it never had been. He looked from the paper to Betty a few times before shaking his head. "I don't understand."

Betty moved closer to him and grazed his arm. "Honey what you don't understand doesn't hurt you. What's up?"

He looked into her eyes, the one thing about her that never changed throughout the years and smiled. "Nothing."

"Well good. Now tell me how radiant I look, finish your tea and let's get going Albie. There's late and then there's late."

Albert nodded, finished his tea and grabbed his jacket. Before heading for the door though, he picked up the newspaper and shoved it in the bin. For the second time today, he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind.

*

As Albert & Betty and Mark & Kim joined Sarah & her family to celebrate a year on Fredrick Street, neither of them were much in the mood for celebrating. Ushering them in with a plastered on smile, Sarah busied herself being host trying to distract herself from the day behind her, whilst the rest of them mingled, trying their best to keep those pearly whites flashing every so often so as to avoid any questions being asked as to how their day was, if everything was OK and why the long face. For the most part, being together as they were now, they all felt a little better. Something unspoken was flowing between them, between the clinks of glasses and passing of plates, the pulling out of chairs and the halfhearted toasts. Sitting down at the dinner table, placed outside to keep the BBQ feeling going, it was as if they all knew they had an equally strange day. A strange day that wasn't over yet.

It happened as they waited for Sarah's husband to dish up the burgers, BBQ glazed chicken wings and pork sausages. Where they had previously been standing or sitting, Betty, Morgan, Sarah's Kids all disappeared. And all hell broke loose. Sarah started screaming, Albert began yelling for Betty. Even Mark & Kim were panicking as they looked down to where Kim's swollen baby belly had been to find no baby belly at all, just a flat stomach. The place was chaos, screaming, crying, and shouting. Neither of them calm, all of them panicking until they stopped, spotting someone standing by the entrance to the French Doors. They all stood and stared silently as the man wearing the fedora and the dust breaker jacket slid out of the room with a saunter just short of a spring and picked up a plate from the buffet table. It was the delivery driver Sarah had shooed away. The man who Mark & Kim had seen at the hospital & the man Albert had seen at the park. Piling his plate high with food he had no business eating and certainly no chance of finishing, he glanced over them all with a smile, his blue eyes dancing and not a bead of sweat on his dark skin despite the heat and despite his get up. He surveyed the group standing around the table in the midst of their emotional chaos like they were standing in line at a burger van. The entire party stared at him as he chewed, swallowed and smacked his lips, before turning back to them and smiling and began to speak. 

"I know what your thinking. Who's the handsome stranger that's just invited himself to the party and started eating for a small family of four, right? One of the things I love about this place? Eat what you want and there is no lifetime on the hips." He laughed hard, until he looked around and found he was the only one laughing. Stopping, he finished off the burger and smacked his hands together. 

"So, you guys had one hell of a day or what?" 

They stared at each other, looking around to catch the other's gaze, while the man smiled at them and nodded. "That I thought," he said. Sitting down, he put his feet on the table, placing his hat beside it. Despite all their instincts telling them not too, the four of them sat down and listened. He looked at each of them in turn, nothing between them but the wind and the birds.

"So," he started, "which one of you would like to start asking the questions?"

Transcript of Interview with Sarah Barr. August 25, 2015. Conducted by J.P. McNair.

I stopped writing, my hand pushing through the pain and the cramp. I look at Sarah, who's stopped talking.

Are you OK?

Sarah shakes her head. "I'm sorry, can we stop for just a moment?"

Of course.

I don't want to push her too far. She's already told me more than I could ever have found out after a lifetime of research. 

Do you want a glass of water?

She shook her head. "Just, when I remember how perfect everything was, then when everything changed? It still hurts."

Do you want to stop?

"No. I want to keep going."

OK. Why don't we talk about something else? Why don't you tell me what you know of Tom & Isabel Wyatt, Ray Samson, Harold Wells. I've got a few other names here. Eh....

"Colin and Peter."

Yes. Can you talk about their side of it?

"Their side of it?"

There is a flicker of anger there, like I'm suggesting there are two sides to the story. But it quickly subsides. She drinks her tea. Composed. 

"I only know some."

As much as you can tell me. I can fill in the blanks and find out the rest.

She paused, thoughtful and looking at me.

"They won't let you access the court records. Nobody from The Wells Foundation are commenting."

That's right. I've found a few bits and pieces here and there on everyone. I'll piece together the rest.

Her lips pursued together tightly.

"Piece together? How much of this will be actually fiction?" 

I think about the next words carefully.

With a story like this, it doesn't really matter. It only matters what people believe.

She seemed to accept this without comment.

"You haven't been able to speak to anyone who worked at The Complex? None of the people involved in the Project?

I look at her, puzzled. 

There's nobody left to talk to. You and Kim Fleming are the only survivors. And you're the only one willing to speak with me. Are you saying this is wrong? I've seen the list of people who died – I've seen the death certificates. Are these false?

Sarah smiled again and nodded. She looked past me, somewhere in the distance.

"What about Ray? Have you tried contacting Ray Samson?"

I looked at her. I knew the name. He was the Head Analyst of the project, colleague and friend of Doctors Tom and Isabel Wyatt. He would know the other side of the story more than anyone. He was on the list of people who had perished after the incident at the Complex.

There was almost a whisper of a smile from Sarah as she read my face. "He's on the list of the dead, isn't he?"

Yes. He's on the list along with Tom, Isabel, Mark and Albert. Is that not the case?

"He's very much alive. I can only tell you parts, and mainly only what I remember or what I've heard or read myself. He can tell you everything from 'the other side', as you call it."

I can almost hear myself gulp. If what Sarah is telling me is true, then I'm on the cusp on a major breakthrough. 

Do you know where he is?

"I do."

Will you tell me?

She paused. I can see her mulling it over. Deciding whether or not to give him up. 

"I will. He may have saved us, eventually, but that doesn't mean he isn't blameless for all those people who died. For what we all went through. If I've got to remember, then so should he."

She took a pen and paper and handed me the information on it. I put it in my pocket for later. 

"You might want to go talk to him, get his version of events first. Then, you can come back and we can finish the whole story."

I nodded. Thanked her for the tea and left. I was going to find one of the key members behind the incident, the project and what happened on Fredrick Street.