Somewhere Chapter 3 (Pt 2)

Continued from: Somewhere: Chapter 3 (Pt 1) | ABCtales

 

Chapter Three (Pt 2)

 

Chris muttered, “Perhaps he’s persuaded Liam not to after all.”

A few seconds later the door was opened by a tall, slim man in his fifties, dressed in fawn chinos and a lemon-coloured jumper. The corners of his crisp white shirt collar rested neatly under the jumper’s neckline, and his luxuriant greying hair flowed back from his forehead. Elsie thought this was the only thing resembling a Silver Fox she had seen outside of the movies.

“Mr Mayfield?”

He nodded. “You’re the environment people? I assume you have identification?”

Elsie raised her lanyard from where it dangled, very obviously, against her blouse. After a moment, Chris raised his.

Simon Mayfield leaned towards them. “I want you to know that I’m still not happy about his,” he said in a low voice. “My nephew is traumatised enough. I’m very worried about him.”

Elsie also nodded, and locked her eyes onto his. “It must be traumatic for you too, Mr Mayfield, seeing your nephew so distressed. Liam is fortunate to have your support. Let’s hope we can move forward to a solution for both of you.”

Simon Mayfield’s brow creased slightly. That’s right, mate, Elsie thought. I can stand here talking drivel and saying nothing for as long as it takes. I’ve got past a lot more difficult than you in my time.

With something between a sigh and a snort, Liam’s uncle stood aside and let them squeeze into the narrow hallway. “In there.” He nodded at the door beside them.

The house still had its original small sitting room. A shabby black faux leather settee and couple of elderly mismatched armchairs stood on pale wood laminate flooring, a stained rectangular coffee table between them. There was a faint smell of cigarettes and past meals. Framed drawings of the Minster, the city walls and Clifford’s Tower hung on the slightly grubby magnolia walls. Elsie recognised the pictures as coming from the guy on the market who sold three for two, or four for two if he was having a bad day.  

A young man sat at the end of the settee, slumped against the back, as if he had been poured there and left to set. He ignored them as they filed into the room, his gaze fixed somewhere in the middle distance.

“Liam, these are the environmental services people,” his uncle said grudgingly. There was no response.

Without waiting for an invitation, Chris sat on the settee at the other end from Liam, effectively placing himself between the young man and his uncle. Elsie took the chair nearest the settee. Simon Mayfield moved stiffly round to the other armchair, aware he had been out-manoeuvred, if not quite sure how.

Chris spoke gently to Liam, introducing himself and Elsie, and asking if Liam minded them recording the conversation.

“Why do you need to do that?” Simon Mayfield’s voice was sharp. “Doesn’t that contravene data protection?”

“For accuracy,” said Elsie, “and no, not if Liam gives his consent,”

“You think he’s capable of consenting to anything?” Simon Mayfield asked.

Elsie glanced at Chris. It was not an unreasonable question. She and Chris didn’t know Liam. His uncle did, and if Simon Mayfield felt that Liam was currently incapable of giving consent, then Elsie and Chris couldn’t insist. They couldn’t actually insist on the interview taking place at all. They had no statutory powers. They weren’t the police.

“How would you like us to proceed, Mr Mayfield?” Elsie asked calmly. “We do understand your concerns. However we also want to provide appropriate support for Liam. Are you his official next of kin?”

Simon Mayfield looked uncomfortable. “No. But his parents are in New York at the moment, visiting his mother’s family. I suppose I’m sort of in loco parentis.”

“He is an adult,” Elsie said. “But obviously you want to protect his interests.”

Suddenly Liam said, “It doesn’t matter what they do. It’s irrelevant.” His voice was thin and nasal, flat, oddly precise, and completely bored.

There was a moment’s silence.

“What happens to the recording?” Simon Mayfield asked.

Elsie said, “A transcript will be made, and when that is agreed as a true record, the original will be destroyed.”

“What if I don’t give consent for my part in the conversation to be recorded?” He looked pleased with himself.

 “Well, our interview is with Liam,” said Elsie. “Obviously you are under no obligation to participate if you don’t feel comfortable with it.”

Liam shifted his head to look at his uncle. Simon Mayfield, who had seemed about to say more, suddenly stopped and leaned back in his chair. Liam resumed his original position.

Elsie saw that Simon Mayfield was not used to being stopped, by Liam or anyone else. She wondered he’d seen in the young man’s stare.

Chris produced his work phone. After the preliminaries had been gone through he said gently, “You were visiting your uncle in Minster Yard on Saturday evening, Liam?”

“I’m renting the property,” Simon Mayfield interrupted. “The owner is a business associate of mine. I need to be in this area for about six months and as my associate is working in Dubai at the moment, he kindly agreed to let me use it.”

Elsie saw Chris’s lips tighten. She wondered why Uncle Simon found it necessary to explain his presence in Minster Yard.

Chris said, “Liam, if you confirm…”

“He can confirm.” Liam inclined his head towards his uncle.

After a moment Chris said, “Mr Mayfield, is that all right with you?”

Liam had gone to his uncle’s for an early supper. After the meal they talked about the trip Liam was taking, in week or so’s time, to see his parents in New York before the new university term started. He left the house at about half past eight.

“Thank you, Mr Mayfield.” Chris said.

“And that will definitely be…”

“Yes, Mr Mayfield, the recording will be destroyed, once the transcript is agreed. Liam, can you tell me what happened after you left your uncle’s house? Anything you saw, or heard. Or felt.”

 Liam spoke slowly, as if recalling something from a very long time ago. “It smelt like staleness. And metal. Iron, when it’s rusty. There was a shadow, on the Minster wall, then in front of me.” He frowned suddenly, focusing not on any of the people in the room, but on something they could not see. “Then it was something else.”

Chris said softly, “Did you hear anything?”

“I heard nothing.”

“Nothing at all?”

“I heard nothing,” said Liam. “Emptiness. I heard that.” He looked directly at Chris.

Chris flinched. He inhaled sharply, as though catching his breath in cold air. Then he asked, “Can you describe what you saw?”

 “It was not me, but it wanted to know me. I could feel it.” His lips jerked into a smile. “It knew I could feel it.”

“When the bells rang, could you hear that?”

“What?”

“When the Minster bells started to ring. Did you hear them?”

“There were no bells.” Liam sat up, his body tensed as if to spring. “Just pain.”

“Pain?”

“All the way through me. Tearing me. I didn’t understand.”

“What didn’t you understand, Liam?”

He looked puzzled by the question. “The pain. I didn’t understand pain. Then it went away.”

“The pain went away?”

“The not understanding. I understood pain, and then I heard screaming. I was screaming.”

Chris said, “Do you remember going in the ambulance?”

“No.”

“Do you remember being in the hospital?”

He looked towards his uncle. “I remember him there.” Simon Mayfield looked away.

“How do you feel now, Liam?”

He shrugged, slumped back against the settee and closed his eyes.

“Liam?”  

There was no reply. A few seconds later his breathing became louder and more regular. He was asleep.

Simon Mayfield said quietly, “That keeps happening. The hospital said all his obs are normal, there doesn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with him. I think he’s still in shock.”

“I’m surprised the hospital discharged him, to be honest,” said Elsie.

“He discharged himself.” Seeing her face he added, “As you were so keen to point out, he’s legally an adult. They couldn’t stop him and neither could I.”

“Did he say why he didn’t want to stay in hospital?”

“Just that it was a waste of time. To be honest I don’t think he knows what he’s saying, or doing.” He looked around the shabby room. “So what happens now? We can’t go on like this. Liam won’t come back to Minster Yard with me, so I’m having to stay here, because obviously he can’t be left on his own. One of the other students has gone home for the summer so I’m using that room.” He wrinkled his nose. “I found some clean sheets. More or less clean. I don’t have any for a single bed.” He looked anxious. “I’m hoping Liam will agree to come back with me soon.”

Elsie tried feeling a little sympathy towards Uncle Simon’s predicament, but abandoned it in favour of complete annoyance at his self-absorption. She glanced at Chris and gave a slight nod. He turned off the recording and they both stood up.

“Thank you, Mr Mayfield,” she said, “and please thank Liam for us when he wakes up. We’ll be in touch in the next couple of days.”

“The next couple of days?” Simon Mayfield sounded incredulous. “My nephew is a shadow of his former self, I’m at my wits’ end with worry, and you’re going to pussyfoot around for a couple of days? I thought you said you could give us some answers.”

“I appreciate your frustration, Mr Mayfield, but there’s no point in us giving you answers before we’ve worked out exactly what the questions are.”

“So you don’t know what this is? I thought that was your job.”

Elsie assumed an expression of regret. “I wish we could know everything straight away, Mr Mayfield, but obviously Liam has had a very vivid experience and we will need to check the records for similar manifestations to see what was done then. We have a range of options at our disposal, but we need to be in possession of all the facts to ensure we choose the right one.” She gave him a gentle smile. “And now I’m sure you’d like us to leave you and your nephew in peace.” Get out, Goforth, before Uncle Simon realises you haven’t a clue and are talking complete bollocks.

They filed back through the hallway to the front door. Chris paused when he and Elsie had stepped outside. “Mr Mayfield, you said Liam is a shadow of his former self. What exactly did you mean?

Simon Mayfield looked uncomfortable.

“Is he usually quite a lively lad then?” Chris asked. “Does he have a lot of friends? A particular girlfriend or boyfriend?”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.”

“Well, he does seem a bit…detached. I’m just interested in what exactly you mean by him being a shadow of himself.”

I’m not the only one talking bollocks then, Elsie thought. Come on, Chris, for God’s sake. It’s up to the doctors if he needs counselling or whatever. We’re overstepping our limits here.

To her surprise, Simon Mayfield answered the question. “He’s a quiet boy, always has been. Generally happy though, I’d say. Very imaginative. Creative. My brother, Liam’s father, he’s the same. And Liam’s mother. She paints, you know. They’re sorting out some sort of exhibition thing while they’re in New York.” He shook his head. “I haven’t told them about this yet. To be honest, I’m not sure quite what to tell them.”

 “So when you say he’s a shadow of himself…” Chris prompted.

Simon Mayfield said, “It’s like looking at a shadow. It’s like Liam isn’t actually there anymore. You know that old saying about the eyes being the windows to the soul?”

Chris nodded.

“Well the windows are blank. Not curtained, or dark. Just blank.”

He closed the door.

“Holy shit,” breathed Elsie. She started walking towards Ermintrude.

Chris followed her. When they were in the car he said, “Uncle Simon’s right, up to a point. When Liam looks at you, into you almost, at first it’s like there’s nothing. A big empty nothing. And then there is something. A tiny something. A glimmer of something.”

“He’s obviously still in shock,” said Elsie.

“Is it shock?” Chris asked.

Elsie put the key in the ignition. “What else?”

“Good question,” said Chris. “Because when I looked into Liam Mayfield’s eyes, I’ve no idea what it was looking back at me.”

 

Picture by Keith Edkins, copyright free on Wikimedia Commons: File:Curzon Terrace, York - geograph.org.uk - 3880484.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Picture for illustrative purposes only. This street does not feature in the story.