A Cry From Beyond Read Online Free PDF

adventurer himself,” she said, sarcastically.
“Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”
    “There
wasn’t time,” I replied guilty.
    “To such
an extent you couldn’t even make a phone call?”
    “What are
you, Michelle, my mother?”
    Sounding
hurt, “I thought I was your friend, more than a friend in
fact.”
    She was
right. We’d been seeing each other on and off for the past couple
of years. While Mike had proved to be my saviour by making me see
sense before I finally self-destructed, Michelle was equally
supportive, sticking around even though I repeatedly let her
down.
    She
changed the subject. “How’s Lennon?”
    “How do
you want him to be?”
    “I’m
trying to be friendly, John.”
    “He’s
fine. Lennon’s fine. Mike said you wanted to discuss dates and
venues?”
    “I do,
but I also want to discuss us.”
    “Didn’t
anyone tell you it’s dangerous to mix business with
pleasure?”
    “If
you’re not interested, just say, we’ll keep it strictly business.
Otherwise stop toying with my emotions.”
    “Okay,
point taken. So when can you come over?”
    “Hey; not
so fast. Let me think about it.”
    “What is
there to think about, Michelle? I’m inviting you over for the
weekend not asking you to commit blue murder! We can pick up where
we left off.”
    There was
a pause, and then: “Okay John, I accept your kind invitation. I
really don’t suppose it can do any harm. How does next weekend
suit?”
    “Great.
Can’t wait... But a word to the wise, bring warm clothing. The wind
bites like a bitch up in this neck of the woods.”
    We
talked, me doing most of it, explaining and apologising as if my
life depended on it, until finally, Michelle ceased hostilities,
more or less, and got down to the other reason for her call, which
was business. She proceeded to give me the lowdown on the
scheduling for my new single: a little number entitled, “For Love
nor Money”. To my mind it was the best thing I’d written in years,
a gutsy rock ballad with a catchy riff and a set of good honest
lyrics, telling the story of a single-minded man who refused to be
bought for—yes, you got it—Love nor Money. He was a maverick, which
incidentally, was how I saw myself, and still do, who went his own
way, whose conscience was untroubled, and who was answerable to no
one.
    Michelle
was still talking when I suddenly remembered the child, and
returned to the kitchen to look out of the window. During my short
absence she had left the gazebo, and was walking across the lawn
towards the cottage, still cradling the blanket. Birds circled
above, cawing noisily. She ignored them and continued approaching.
The birds soared skyward and then, without warning they swooped,
and to my utter amazement, they began attacking the child who fell
screaming, dropping the blanket, the contents of which tumbled out
onto the grass. Revealed was some kind of doll. But it was unlike
any doll I’d ever seen, being devoid of all but the most basic
human characteristics.
    I
hurriedly ended the call with Michelle and dashed outside onto the
patio, expecting to witness mayhem. Instead there was nothing. Both
the child and the birds were gone.
    The
following day the little girl would be there again. A case of same
time, same channel; sitting demurely in the gazebo cradling the
strange looking doll wrapped in the blanket. And just like before
she would rise to her feet and start walking towards the cottage,
while above her the birds circled majestically, before launching a
violent attack. This time however, she would manage to ward them
off long enough to make it to the patio area, before being
overpowered and forced to flee with her treasured doll. And once
again I would rush outside to find both she and the birds
gone.
    Next time
I saw Gentleshaw I mentioned the child to him, hoping he might know
who she was and clear up the mystery, but he too was at a
loss.
    “I
thought she might be a relative of yours,” I said, still