Walking up Highfield Road in the Autumn dark was like opening a door to a room full of memories Kieran had thought was shut away forever.

Ashley was walking next to him, and she was staring up at the houses, oblivious to the emotional impact this place was having on him. He remembered his old Walkman, and the tape he used to listen to at exactly this time of year - November – walking down this very street when the weather was just like this.

Phil Collins. No Jacket Required. He'd copied the tape off Phillip and someone had pressed the record button halfway through “Only You Know and I Know”. He found himself singing the song in his head now as he walked.

 

Whenever I think I know you better,

Better than I know myself,

Ooh, I open up, and give you everything, then you,

You say “Okay, what else?”

 

Suddenly the song had a different meaning. It was no longer a dialog between a man and a woman; it was a dialog between Kieran and himself; the Kieran he understood, and the other Kieran, which performed dark acts with some strange purpose.

In the sky, the low, heavy clouds were orange. They were reflecting the streetlights of London, and there was a thin fog and the smell of gunpowder because this was the beginning of the bonfire weekend.

A mild wind was brushing against his face, but it was warm for early November. On the ground the autumn leaves had been flattened to the pavement by rain, making the going a little slippery.

He even recognised the shapes of the kerbstones, as he recalled the times when he used to sit on them eating sweets in the summer holidays when he was young, or kick a football against them until a car came along.

Occasionally the distant sound of a rocket being launched with a whoosh-crackle into the sky followed by a resonant bang drowned out the sound of the swishing wet-tyre traffic on the main road behind them.

In amongst Kieran’s nostalgia for this childhood place was nervousness. They were drawing closer to number seven, and Kieran could feel his heart rate increasing with every single step.

They turned onto the property and weaved through the two cars parked on the gravel driveway. Kieran looked up at the house.

It was a 1930's three-storey detached house in red-brown brick, with bay windows on the ground floor and in the first floor master bedroom. The front door was set into the building, creating a porch area under the overhang created by the room above.

Kieran found himself smiling at the shape of the house. He had attained a level of familiarity with it that surpassed any feelings about any other house he lived in. It said something about the difference between the sharpness with which a young mind processes what it sees, and the way that receptiveness is blunted, as the mind gets older.

They were standing in the porch. Ashley rang the doorbell and the man who answered introduced himself as David Everett. He invited them in.

Inside, not only was the decor different but so was the layout. The kitchen had been extended into a conservatory that had eaten up a portion of the garden, and the wall that separated the living room with the main hall had been knocked through, creating a huge arched walk-through.

Seeing the house like this, changed after so many years saddened Kieran. This experience was corrupting his original picture of the house, and would no doubt always creep in to his thoughts when he remembered his younger days here.

David Everett lived here with his wife, who - he told them - was away in New York on business.

They sat in the living room drinking tea, David on one sofa and Ashley and Kieran on the other.

David picked up the letter off the coffee table and handed it to Kieran. He uttered a small nervous laugh. 'Sorry about the soggy bit, I had to fish it out of the bin.'

Kieran looked at the address on the envelope, 'It's my handwriting.' He pulled out the single folded sheet of paper and opened it.

 

To whom it may concern,

Ten years ago I lived in your house. I had gathered some things in the cellar, which I forgot to remove when we left. I would be most grateful if you would box up the newspapers in the cellar and the contents of the Tesco bag nearby and send them to the mailroom at Arthur Andersen, 1 Surrey Street, London. Please mark each box with "Edward Gosnell 14R". I have enclosed sufficient funds to cover costs.

Yours sincerely,

Kieran Whyteleafe

 

Kieran passed the letter to Ashley. She took it and started to read. Kieran looked at David. 'I have that type of paper, and those envelopes at home. It's in my hand, and I recognise the ink, it's from the pen in my kitchen. So it's fairly conclusive that I wrote it, but I have no recollection of it at all.'

Ashley put the letter back on the table and said to David; 'What time and date did Kieran telephone you?'

'It was three weeks ago last Tuesday, at about ten in the evening. So that was October 8th, right?'

Ashley looked at Kieran. 'Can you remember that evening?'

Kieran put his head down into his hands and tried to think.

'Tuesday three weeks ago. I think I called my mother in Cape Town.' That was at about 8 o'clock. We talked for about half an hour. Then I watched some television and went to bed. I was in bed asleep before ten.'

The others two were silent.

'Are you saying I'm doing all this in my sleep?'

Ashley turned to David again. 'What did he sound like on the phone? This was after you received the letter right?'

'Yes,' said David. 'He sounded perfectly normal. Just like he does now.'

Kieran said; 'Did you see the word Spireclaw written on one of the brick supports in the cellar? Underneath the ground floor bedroom?'

'No, there's nothing like that down there.' said David.

'Maybe someone removed it in the intervening years,' said Ashley.

Kieran suddenly felt too warm. He could feel himself beginning to sweat. He felt uncomfortable. He didn't want to be there any more. He couldn't escape the feeling that he was close to discovering a truth that was meant to stay hidden from him. He stood up and offered his hand. 'David. Listen. I’m sure this is all a bit weird for you. I want to thank you for everything.'

David and Ashley stood as well.

David smiled and shook Kieran's hand. 'I'm not really sure what to say about all this.'

'Me neither. I feel like I've got amnesia, but I don't ever remember banging my head.'

'Well if there's anything else I can help you with,' added David. 'Please let me know.'

 

~

 

Walking down Highfield Road, away from the house, the smell of burning was much stronger now. Kieran tried to focus his mind on all the facts. But his thoughts were spread too thinly, over too many aspects of the puzzle, and he could conclude nothing. He said. 'I have more questions now than I did when I went in there.'

Ashley tucked her arm under his. 'Fancy a drink?'

They went back to Jacksons. It was a busy night. Friday's were always rammed. The smokey atmosphere was stifling, but the jolly sounds of a hundred people chatting and laughing comforted Kieran.

'I feel like I've gone full circle,' he said. 'After all this hunting around I've ended up right back where I started. I don't know where to look to find the answers. Perhaps I should see a doctor. If I'm really doing things without knowing. Well I could cause myself an injury. Wander in front of a car or something.'

Ashley was shaking her head, and running her index finger around the rim of her wine glass. 'You haven't gone round in circles. You haven't ended up where you started, because all roads lead to Edward Gosnell. You asked for his name to be written on those boxes. Somewhere in that brain of yours is the answer to who Edward Gosnell really is. It's time you found out.'

'You're right,' said Kieran. He realised that in his anxiety he had pulled a strip of skin away from the cuticle on his thumb.

'Kieran. Can I stay at your place tonight?'

An absolutely leftfield question. Kieran looked directly at her. 'Ashley, I...'

'It's just, I don't like going back to my parents house. They treat me like some precious diamond or something. I'll sleep on the sofa. Just give me a blanket and I'll be fine.'

'No. I'll sleep on the sofa. You can have my bed.'

'There’s another reason too.’

‘Really? What?’

‘There's something else I want to ask you. Something that I've been thinking about since Phillip died.'

'What’s that?' Kieran’s heart began to pump a little harder, was she beginning to feel an attraction towards him? Was she about to suggest something that would make his night?

Ashley lowered her head and looked at the table. ‘I was wondering. Have you ever done a seânce?'

 

~

 

Ashley was cutting a sheet of paper into small pieces. Each piece had a letter or number on it, which she had written with a black marker pen.

'You have to arrange the letters and numbers in a circle, and the words YES and NO at opposite ends.'

Soon she had them all arranged like she said and was signalling for him to place his index finger on the upturned glass that she had placed in the centre of the circle, just like she had.

Kieran's hand quivered over the glass, and then he retracted it and shook his head. ‘I must admit I’m more than a bit scared.’

‘I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. Besides, I can’t do it on my own. For some reason it needs at least two of us.’

'How many times have you done this before?'

'A few.'

'And does it actually work?'

'Yes. Pretty much every time.'

They were both sitting cross-legged on the floor on either side of the low coffee table in Kieran’s living room. At the edge of the table was a newly opened bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and two freshly filled wine glasses.

Ashley had lit some candles "for effect" and had placed them on the floor surrounding the table.

Kieran placed his finger on the glass.

They waited in silence. Out of the corner of his eye Kieran saw Gandalf appear at the door to the living room. He rubbed his nose against the jamb.

'Gandalf,' said Kieran quietly. 'You can come in here if you like but for God's sake stay away from the candles.'

Ashley giggled. 'Come on this is serious!'

Gandalf performed a u-turn and wandered slowly off towards the kitchen.

Kieran looked at the glass again, and almost straight away it began to move, slowly at first, as though it would be berated for such an act, but then just a little quicker.

'Is there anybody there?' Ashley whispered. Ashley's eyes were fixed on Kieran, rather than the glass.

The glass began a movement towards the piece of paper marked YES.

'Jeeesus,' whispered Kieran 'Are you doing that?'

Ashley ignored him. 'What is your name?

The glass started to slide in the opposite direction.

ROW

'Write it down!' whispered Ashley.

Kieran wrote the letters on a notepad he had balancing on his knee.

Then it spelled the word KIERAN

'Is that you Phillip?’ said Ashley.

There was a pause. In the still quiet of the flat, Ashley's stomach rumbled loudly, and normally Kieran would probably have laughed. But all forms of humour were suddenly far from his mind just then.

NO

'Can you tell us about Phillip?'

DEAD

'Are you dead?' said Kieran.

NO

'Then what are you?'

ROW

Ashley took her finger off the glass and shook her arm. Kieran's arm was aching too. He also took his away.

'What does ROW mean, do you suppose?’ said Ashley.'

Kieran shrugged and sipped his wine 'Beats me. I don't know what ROW means. But I'm okay to carry on for a bit longer if you are,' he said. ‘This is definitely the weirdest thing I’ve ever done.’

Ashley took a sip of her wine and laid her finger on the glass, 'Come on.'

The glass was quick to move again after they resumed, as though it was now eager to tell them something, even though it had previously been hesitant.

30MAL

'I'm thinking this is a waste of time.' said Kieran, writing down the letters as they appeared. 'None of this makes much sense.'

ROWNPA

'Does this make any sense to you?’ he added.'

SSAG

'Wait,' said Kieran to the glass, or to whatever was controlling it. 'Stop for a minute. Please can you start again?'

Outside the windows the wind blew up into a gust and stirred the trees, a few droplets of rain appeared on the window, creating a hundred warped reflections of the orange streetlamps outside.

CROWNPASSAGE

Kieran felt a shiver manipulate his spine, and it was definitely a shiver created by fear and wonder. Ashley uttered a nervous laugh. 'Oh my God, it's actually telling us to go somewhere.'

'Do you think so?'

'Well of course it is?'

'Crown Passage. Do you even know where that is?'

'No, do you?'

Kieran stared out of the window at the night, 'No.'

'Sounds like it's in London, though. London has lots of passages. Have you got an A to Z?'

Kieran stood up, his knees clicking loudly, 'Ooh me legs! I've got one in my bag.' He went out into the hall and pulled the little book out of his workbag.

He was already flipping through the index. 'This book only covers the centre of town though. Crown Passage, Crown Passage, Crown Passage. Ah, here we are. Crown Passage. There's one in SW1. B-Six, forty-three. B-Six, forty-three.'

Kieran flicked to page forty-three and found square B6. 'It's near St James's Street.'

'Off Piccadilly,' said Ashley.

'Sort of. Actually it's nearer Pall Mall.' He handed her the book, with his thumb on Crown Passage. She took it and looked more closely.

Kieran picked up the notepad, on which he had written everything that had been spelled out so far. 'So do you think 30MAL means number thirty Pall Mall?'

She looked up from the A to Z. 'Might do I suppose.'

They were silent. Kieran could hear Gandalf scratching his claws on the wicker washing basket in the kitchen.

'STOP THAT GANDALF.'

Gandalf stopped.

Ashley said, 'Do you think we should carry on?'

'Yes.'

They placed their fingers on the upturned glass and waited.

And they waited.

But the glass didn't move.