

Alfie's Place

By Michael G Franks

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and events are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Text Copyright 2012

Michael G Franks

Published by Michael G Franks at Smashwords

To Marion, the special person in my life, for her support and encouragement, her enthusiasm and patience and most of all her endurance for being willing to go through the many drafts it took to get the story this far.

To Lee, my son, for his unwavering help and support

And to all my family and friends who were so supportive when listening to me cracking on about "the book."

A big thank you to you all.

# Table of Contents

#  Chapter 1

# Chapter 2
# Chapter 3

# Chapter 4
# Chapter 5

# Chapter 6
# Chapter 7

# Chapter 8
# Chapter 9

# Chapter10

# Chapter 11
# Chapter 12

# Chapter 13
# Chapter 14

# Chapter 15
# Chapter 16

# Chapter 17
# Chapter 18

# Chapter 19
# Chapter 20

# Chapter 21

#

#

Kind hearts are the garden,

Kind thoughts are the roots,

Kind words are the blossoms,

Kind deeds are the fruits.

John Ruskin (1819-1901)

Chapter 1
An ambulance raced through the streets of Wensford toward Collingham Hospital A&E department. The vehicle lights were flashing, but the streets were quiet so the siren was unnecessary. The ambulance flashed by the darkened houses where the occupants were blissfully unaware of the horrors that had taken place on this night. The paramedic watching over the boy laying in the back of the ambulance noted a peaceful even serene look on his face. He certainly didn't look like someone who had experienced a major trauma

The young boy being transported was stable but still unconscious. The medics noted that there was a mild concussion and thought it likely to be the cause of his loss of consciousness. Strangely he had not come around yet and they felt that he should have done by now. The boy was called Alfie and for the moment had good reason to appear peaceful.

Eight days earlier

Mrs Thoms leaned on her front garden gate as she usually did when the weather allowed. It was one such summers day. She watched the schoolchildren pass by and some of them would say hello. Some would ask how she was, but most were too wrapped up with their friends and their busy lives. Busy planning the evening activities; girls talking about boys and boys talking about girls. They spoke of dancing, the latest fashions, football and sports. They were not too concerned about the little old lady at her gate. Peggy Thoms was ok with that; she understood that this was their time and that they should have fun and cram as much into their young lives as possible. She enjoyed just watching them grow each day and spent much of her time trying to predict how they would develop and what they would become. Of course, they were boisterous and could sometimes be a little cheeky but she was always able to bring them into line whenever they stepped over it. The children were bursting with youthful energy, an energy that sadly, she knew, would quickly evaporate as they emerged from the relative freedom of adolescence to shouldering the responsibilities that come with adulthood. For now they would make lots of noise, expend enormous amounts of energy, annoy and frustrate the hell out of their elders and be happy having as much fun as they were able to.

Apart from watching and enjoying the general hubbub of activity during the passing days of each school term, Mrs Thoms had another reason for being at her gate at this particular time of day. Young Alfie Madden was an exception to the rest of the children she saw. He was the nicest boy she had ever known and she waited patiently every day to see if he would stop and talk to her. There were very few occasions when he did not.

Alfie did not seem to get sucked up by the vitality and energy of his friends. Moreover, although Mrs Thoms thought of the other schoolchildren as his friends, he did not appear to have what you could call real friends. Some would pass by when he was talking to her and completely ignore him. Occasionally they would tease him and ask if he was chatting up his new girlfriend: 'Hey, Madden, you hoping to take your new bird out tonight?' Making lewd gestures at the same time. Of course, they would make sure they were not too close to Mrs Thoms when they did. She was a small woman but not beyond giving the cheeky ones a cuff around the ear. Alfie would blush slightly, not for himself but because of the embarrassment caused to Mrs Thoms. She was not really bothered by their childish banter, she had heard much worse in her lifetime. She was, however, disappointed that children today seemed to show less respect than children of her day. 'Ah well,' she thought, 'perhaps I'm just old-fashioned.'

Alfie was an exceptional boy. He was thoughtful and considerate. He genuinely cared for people, and for a boy of his age was surprisingly alert to the needs of others. On reflection, Mrs Thoms could not recall a child quite like him, even in 'her day'.'What is it about Alfie that sets him apart?' she often asked herself. She recalled how helpful he was, not just toward her but also to other people in the neighbourhood. He often did some shopping for old Frank and the Pattersons across the road and frequently ran errands for anyone who needed them. He worked hard, delivering newspapers in all weathers in the mornings. He was always looking for work in the evenings and at weekends, offering to clean windows, wash cars, tidy gardens and even walk the family dogs. He would never take any money from the older people in the neighbourhood, despite their protests, but was paid something from his car washing and paper deliveries. He enjoyed their obvious appreciation and welcomed the opportunity of having an excuse to stay out a bit longer. Alfie told no one of why he preferred not to be at home. His schoolwork did not appear to suffer; in fact, he frequently told Mrs Thoms that he loved school but sometimes he would get bored because the work was often much too easy.

Peggy marvelled at Alfie's ability to listen and understand, especially for someone so young. She wondered what his home life was like, guessing that for him to be so aware and wise beyond his years he must come from stable surroundings. Despite this, Peggy thought it a bit odd that he never spoke of his family, except to tell her that he had no brothers or sisters, there was just him, his mother and stepfather. It was strange also that he never appeared to be in a rush to go home. 'Mind you,' she thought, 'he did keep himself busy with all the running about for other people and his jobs.' On the last occasion she spoke with him she tried to probe a little about his family. But Alfie conveniently noticed old Frank in his front garden across the street and quickly rushed off shouting. 'Sorry Mrs Thoms, promised Mr Stolman I would help him in his garden, see you tomorrow, bye.' His obvious desire to avoid answering her questions raised her curiosity.

He never did see her the next day. She leaned on her gate as she always did and waited. The street gradually became quiet and Alfie didn't appear. She hoped that he was not ill. 'If he doesn't show up tomorrow I'll ask one of the school children who usually come by at about the same time, they will probably know,' she thought. Even during half term and public holidays Alfie made a point of visiting Peggy and the other people he knew in the neighbourhood. Peggy Thoms missed her conversations with Alfie and was always a little saddened if she didn't see him.

The following day Peggy was once again at her front gate enjoying the early summer sunshine and waiting. The unmistakable clamour and din of the children as they emerged from the school grounds soon invaded the otherwise quiet and peaceful suburban street. Peggy scanned the oncoming groups of uniformed children to see if she could pick out the familiar blond hair of Alfie but couldn't spot him. 'Perhaps he's late getting out today,' she thought. The numbers of children passing by now started to thin out, leaving just a few stragglers. She spotted a couple of girls approaching. They were completely oblivious to anything outside of their world. They spoke in hushed tones, making furtive glances to see if anyone was close enough to overhear their topic of conversation and occasionally sprinkling girlish giggles into their discussion about the boys they thought were cute. Despite Peggy's second shout of 'Excuse me, girls,' they almost walked passed. Reluctantly, they stopped and turned, realising someone was trying to attract their attention. They had seen Mrs Thoms many times before but not really taken much notice of her. Without approaching her, they looked enquiringly as if to say, 'Well, what do want?'

Peggy decided to ignore their obvious aloofness and asked, 'Do either of you know Alfie... I think his surname is Madden, he goes to your school?'

The girls looked at each other, trying to work out whether either of them had an answer. 'What's he look like then?' one of them asked.

'He's a little bit taller than you and has fair hair, almost blond really, and he's quite slim." She answered, adding 'I often tell him he needs feeding up.' The girls chatted amongst themselves for a moment and agreed that they knew Alfie and enquired: 'Why you askin'?'

Peggy never ceased to be amused that kids today thought it perfectly natural to abbreviate their words and sentences.

'It's just that he often stops here on his way home from school and chats a while. He's very good and often helps the older people around here with odd jobs and errands. I didn't see him yesterday and he hasn't come by here today, so I was a bit worried he might not be well.'

'Haven't seen him,' they said in unison and turned away, linking arms, continuing their journey home and their much more important conversation.

'Perhaps I'm overreacting,' Peggy thought, mildly chastising herself, 'he'll probably show up tomorrow.'

Two more days passed without any sign of Alfie. It was now the weekend and Peggy would have to wait until Monday to find out what, if anything, was wrong. Although she had only known him for a few months, she felt she knew him reasonably well; well enough to know he would not take time off without good reason. What troubled her most of all was her knowledge of how Alfie felt about the people he helped in the neighbourhood. He knew how dependent some of the older people were on him. They had grown accustomed to him turning up without being asked and would volunteer himself for all sorts of little jobs and errands. Some of the people Alfie helped would often comment on how worried they were about him getting home very late. He used to say: 'It's ok, honest; my mum knows what I am doing.'

'But what about your homework and the other things you might...'

He would interrupt and quickly change the subject. 'I haven't put your garden rubbish out; I should do that now, see you tomorrow,' he would say and off he would run.

She knew he would not just turn his back on these people; he wasn't like that. Peggy was concerned for him. She thought she might call at the school and see if she could speak to a teacher. She knew that they may be reluctant to tell someone not being a parent or relative anything about a pupil, but she would try anyway. Peggy considered for a moment that it could merely be a bit of flu or an upset stomach and most kids would take time off, but even if that were the case, it was unlike Alfie. She had noticed previously that he still showed up despite a severe sore throat, so, a minor illness possibility was unlikely to be the cause of his absence. Perhaps it was female intuition but something wasn't right and it troubled her throughout the weekend. She made a point of going to see Frank across the road. He wasn't very well. The first thing he said as she got through the door was: 'Where's Alfie? Haven't seen him for days. Usually gets a bit of shopping in for me on a Friday.'

'Don't know Frank, haven't seen him myself for a few days. He probably just has an upset tum or a bit of flu. I'll nip down to the shop for you; give me a list of what you want.' Peggy reflected for a moment and realised that the dependency of the folk around here, like Frank, on Alfie was maybe too much responsibility for one so young and perhaps he was just taking some time out. 'No' she thought 'that's just not like him.' The more she tried to find a reasonable excuse for Alfie's non-appearance, the more determined she became to find out from the school as soon as she could.

Having picked up some groceries for Frank, Peggy thought about all of the other folk Alfie helped and wondered whether they had missed him.

She fondly remembered when she first met him. She was at her gate, as usual, and most of the kids had passed by. As normal, they walked on in their own little worlds without a second glance at old Mrs Thoms. Then a young, tall, fair-haired boy approached and with a lovely smile said: 'Good afternoon ma'am, how are you today?'Peggy was quite taken by surprise.

I'm very well and thank you for asking young man.' She watched Alfie walk on and was pleasantly surprised. He was not only polite: 'Called me ma'am, well I never!' she said out loud, but also he had such a friendly smile.

The next day Alfie stopped and introduced himself to Mrs Thoms: 'A proper young gentleman,' thought Peggy. They chatted a while; Alfie about his school, Mrs Thoms about the neighbourhood and some of the people in it. She learned that Alfie was relatively new to the area but didn't say too much about where he was from or why his family moved. She remembered seeing Frank come out into his garden, struggling with a large sack of garden rubbish. Alfie spotted him and turned to Peggy: 'I'll just go and help that gentleman; do you think he'll mind Mrs Thoms?'

'That's Mr Stolman, I am sure he will be very grateful for your help.'

Alfie said: 'Goodbye Mrs Thoms,' and quickly ran across the street, introducing himself to old Frank, taking the rubbish sack at the same time.

'Where would you like me to take this sir?' asked Alfie.

Frank Stolman was indeed very grateful; things were getting harder for him to do nowadays. He pointed to an area at the side of the house and thanked the boy. They chatted as Frank showed Alfie around his garden.

Peggy had watched and heard the interaction between Frank and young Alfie and was amazed by how quickly he could build a rapport with virtual strangers.

As each day passed by, Alfie became more and more entwined with the local community. Mrs Thoms marvelled at the boy's energy. Apart from the time he spent with her, he did lots of things for Mr Stolman. Then there was Mr and Mrs Patterson, the elderly couple on the corner, washing cars, dog walking, delivering newspapers. Peggy couldn't understand where he found the energy or, more importantly, the time. Little did Peggy Thoms realise just how difficult Alfie's life was. His herculean efforts for the small community he had 'adopted' allowed him to deal with his personal fears and emotions. He admired the elderly people, in particular for the way they accepted their problems.They appeared to accept their loss of independence, their subsequent reliance on others, their poor health, and he was amazed at their stoical acceptance of their life coming to an end. All of his energies went into helping them, which, at the same time, enabled him to put his personal issues into perspective, or at least provide some respite from them.

Alfie was glad to have left Edward Grant School and enjoyed his new school at Wensford. He hoped things would go well here and there would be no trouble forcing them to move again. He had built a lovely relationship with the people in the area and he believed that they really appreciated his help. He was happy up to a point, but always aware of how quickly his happiness could turn to despair. He never knew is natural father, his mother rarely speaking of him, except to say that he died when Alfie was quite young. His mother met and married Jack Madden when Alfie was about 8 years old and he never really took to him. As Alfie grew up, the relationship with his stepfather hardened and avoidance appeared to be the best for them both. In fact, now that Alfie was in his teens and developing a will of his own he realised he disliked Jack intensely. At times, the word 'dislike' was probably too mild a description.

It had been nearly four months now with only one or two minor incidents to worry Alfie.

He arrived home that evening having carried out some chores for the Pattersons and Mr Stolman and had spent a short but pleasant time talking to Mrs Thoms.

Creeping up the stairs to his bedroom as he usually would whenever he arrived home late, he suddenly heard his mother sobbing. Alfie's life was to change from that moment on, forever.
Our lives begin to end

the minute we become silent about things that matter

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Chapter 2
When John Southill, the head of Wensford Secondary Modern School, called his morning assembly he reminded himself of the achievements of the school and how well thought of it was. His staff worked hard to attain high standards, academically and also behaviourally; he had always been proud of this. He was, however, particularly concerned today about an incident that had just come to light that could have a serious impact on the school's reputation.

He was a tall man with a military posture and crew-cut style hair to match. His square chin and broad shoulders clearly showed a serious fitness regime. For a guy of forty-five years of age, he was in ok shape. Not many knew that his fitness routine and his total commitment to his work were a means of escape from a tragedy in his life that he just wanted to forget. John Southill was a single man who had only one serious relationship in his life. But in catastrophic circumstances he lost her and it changed his life forever. His work became his mistress and his friends and acquaintances often reminded him of this. He didn't mind this too much, but sometimes he would have liked some company to bounce problem situations off. Instead, John would don his tracksuit and training shoes and run around the local area, sometimes at ungodly hours of the night. This was his thinking time, a time when he could map out the issue and consider options.

He remembered the phone call he received yesterday afternoon from one of his pupils' mothers. She was clearly distressed. She introduced herself as Mrs Madden and her son was Alfie. She described how her son was attacked on his way to school that morning.

'He will not be coming to school for a couple of weeks until he gets better,' she said. 'He has not had to be hospitalised but is severely bruised and shocked. They obviously gave him a good kicking.'

'I am really sorry to hear this Mrs Madden, do you know who his attackers were and have you reported it to the police?' John asked.

'Alfie doesn't know who they were or why they picked on him but I have spoken to the police and they are looking into it,' she replied.

John promised to question all of his pupils the next morning and told Mrs Madden that he would keep her informed if he found out anything from within the school.

'Please give Alfie my best wishes and, of course, those of his school friends; I'm sure they will all wish him a speedy recovery, as do I.'

John thought it strange that Mrs Madden didn't say anything in response but just put the receiver down.

The next morning all of the children were gathered in the assembly hall. John climbed onto the stage and took a central position. 'Settle down, settle down.' His voice flew across the assembly hall with an authority he knew the students fully understood. Very quickly the chattering and fidgeting ceased and all 800 youths were for once quiet. It was a measure of the respect John commanded; his charisma was the driving force behind the school's success.

'Yesterday morning,' he started, 'one of our pupils was severely beaten by, we are led to believe, a group of older schoolboys.' John paused to let the news sink in and to let the nervous chattering die down, but it didn't. 'Quiet,' he commanded. 'We do not know if they were from this school or another in the district or, indeed, whether they were school children at all.'

John paused for a moment and ensured that his gaze touched all of those in the hall. He didn't just scan the gathering but looked deeply into faces to seek out any sign of guilt. For the moment, there was none.

'The boy who has been injured is Alfie Madden.'

An audible gasp came from a small group of students seated fairly close together in the hall who were from Alfie's class.

The Headmaster continued: 'Fortunately, he has not been hospitalised but his mother tells me he is badly bruised and in her words "received a good kicking."'John's face hardened. 'I will not tolerate this sort of behaviour in this school and you can all rest assured that I will find out who is responsible.'

He continued: 'As this incident happened outside of the school grounds we have no jurisdiction. Alfie has said that he did not recognise any of his attackers, so it is down to his parents to decide whether they get the police involved. But I want you to know this; if anyone knows anything about this incident they must tell their teacher or me immediately. As Alfie did not recognise his attackers. I am assuming, for the moment, it was not anyone from this school. Whether that is the case or not, I'm sure some of you must have seen or heard something.'

The students were dismissed to proceed to their lessons.

John recalled that Alfie had come to his school about 4 months ago from another school outside the area. He noted that the previous school report summary commented that the boy was prone to get into scrapes with other students. 'I should talk to him when he returns about that. In the meantime, I might have a chat with his previous Headmaster. I've known Tom Williams for a long time but I think he must not be far off retirement now, so I hope he's still around.' John thought.

The phone rang in the Headmaster's office of Edward Grant Secondary Modern, Alfie's previous school. Tom Williams was indeed nearing retirement and quite frankly had had enough of teaching and particularly running a very overcrowded and run-down inner-city school. He was ready to go. 'Mr Williams here, how can I help?'

'Hi Tom, John Southill from Wensford Secondary, haven't spoken to you for quite some time, how are you getting on?'

'Hello, John, good to hear from you. I'm just about ready for the off; retire in one month, can't wait.'

'I know you've earned your retirement Tom, so good luck and enjoy. The reason I'm phoning, apart from wanting to speak with you before you left, I need to talk to you about a former pupil of yours who is now at my school.'

'Fire away John.'

'The boy's name is Alfred Madden, Tom, do you recall him?'

Tom thought for quite some time.

'Yes, in fact, I do John. Quite an enigmatic young boy. He was always getting into fights with other pupils and in particular with the older, much bigger boys. Why on earth he would want to do that, I just don't know. Yet when he wasn't scrapping or being off school with the various fight knocks he picked up he was very pleasant and quite bright; absolutely fascinated with history. He got on very well with his peers but kept himself to himself. Sadly he didn't seem to make friends very easily.'

'Did you ever speak to him about his predisposition to pick fights with older boys? Please don't misunderstand me, Tom,' John added quickly, 'I know you would have disciplined him and his 'sparring partners' but what puzzles me is why older and bigger boys?'

'Strangely, I never got to the bottom of that question. His excuse was almost always pupil A was beating up smaller pupil B and Alfie would step in to defend the smaller boy. He nevertheless always came off the worse for wear and he would never divulge whom the fights were with. I would get the school nurse to take a look at him, patch him up and then I would send him home for the day after speaking to his mother on the telephone. He quite often would not come back to school for several days after an incident. I think it happened two or three times.'

'Did his mother or stepfather ever come into school; I certainly haven't seen either of them at Wensford?' John asked.

'Only saw her on the one occasion, just before he left me. She wanted to let me know that they were moving out of the district, as she was unhappy with the neighbourhood. The boy had apparently been set upon by a gang of youths and that, she said, was the last straw. As the incident had happened away from school, she had not reported it to me. I assumed that the police were dealing with the matter. Don't know what the outcome was and I never saw him or the family again.'

John thought for a moment, not wanting to say too much at this stage, but this situation with Alfie had now become something more than just a scrap-happy kid who liked to pick fights. 'Tom, thanks for your help, I'm trying to sort out a few discipline problems and your information has helped me enormously. Once again, have a happy retirement.' John chatted with Tom for a short while longer, mainly polite small talk, and then bade him farewell. John put down the receiver and started to consider what his next course of action should be. Whatever it was, he knew it was not going to be easy. He reflected on what he had been told and could not help but be concerned about the similarities of the incidents with Alfie in two different locations and times. Was it just Alfie's behaviour? If it was, then the lad was in need of some help. If there were other factors... his deep thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a knock on the door.

'Come in,' he said.

His deputy, Michael Cochran, had been asked to make enquiries around the school about the incident. Teachers, assistants, cleaners, porters, some of the older pupils; all were asked if they had seen or heard anything about the attack on Alfie. Mr Cochran was convinced that all those he spoke to had not seen or heard anything.

'Thanks, Michael. I need to hold a meeting about Alfie Madden with you and his form teacher later this evening after all of the students have left, but don't say anything about the topic to anyone. As it could be extremely sensitive. I need to collect my thoughts and put my brain in gear before I engage my mouth.'

The deputy head looked puzzled but knew his boss well and trusted his judgement implicitly; it was obviously potentially a very serious matter and clearly something to do with young Madden.

'Ok John, I'll speak to Edwin Tillet, Alfie's form teacher, and just tell him he's needed for a meeting this evening. Would 5 pm be ok?'

'Yes that will be fine, see you both then.'

John Southill returned to thinking about Alfie and the various possibilities that he might have to address. He paced his reasonably spacious office and walked towards the large window that looked out across the drive to the school grounds entrance. The wooden slatted window blinds were only closed when privacy was required; at other times he enjoyed the light and sunshine that flooded his office. He saw a small elderly lady in conversation with the sports master who was returning from the playing field. Rather than conversation it was more like she was remonstrating with him – lots of hand gestures and pointing. The sports master suddenly pointed in the direction of John's office and walked away. The small, rather rotund, lady started in the direction of the Headmaster's office for a moment then turned away and headed back out of the school grounds.

'Thank you, Lord,' he thought, raising his eyes to the heavens, 'probably some pupil's grandmother or an upset local resident. Not something I want to deal with today.'

Peggy's conversation that afternoon with the teacher was as she expected. She had spoken at lunchtime with the same girls she had made enquiries to about Alfie some days ago. They had decided to go out during their lunch hour and tell the old lady about what had happened. They stopped by Mrs Thoms' gate although Peggy wasn't there, she hadn't intended to go out and 'take up her post' until the afternoon. She saw them from her window and knew instinctively that they wanted to speak to her. They told her about their assembly that morning and what the Headmaster had said. Peggy was shaken and knew she had been right to be concerned.

'Thank you, girls, I really appreciate you taking the trouble to tell me. Do you know where Alfie lives?' Peggy quickly added: 'I'd like to at least send him a note to wish him well.'

'He lives over Rosamond Street way but don't know exactly where,' one of them replied. 'We have to get back to school now, bye.'

They turned away as Mrs Thoms said: 'Will you let me know if you hear anything more?'

'Yeh,' they chirped in unison and quickly set off back to the school.

So, it was after this conversation with the girls that Peggy resolved to visit the school to try to find out where Alfie lived. She wanted to write a note or visit his home if she could. At the very least she wanted to see how he was, but more importantly, to let his parents know how grateful everyone he helped was and how much he was missed. 'Things like this shouldn't happen to such a nice boy. Well, I guess it shouldn't happen to anyone, but particularly someone like Alfie,' she thought. She felt so angry. Peggy made herself a nice cup of tea and tried to calm down a bit before she went to the school. Then, putting on her coat and collecting her not insubstantial handbag she strode off to Wensford Secondary.

Passing through the school gates she noticed, what she guessed was a teacher. She caught up with him and although he wasn't wearing conventional teaching clothes, the tracksuit and whistle hanging from his neck sort of gave her a clue that he was probably the sports teacher.

'Hello,' she said attracting the teacher's attention. 'I wonder if you could help me.'

'I'll try,' he replied stopping to face her. 'How can I help?'

'My name is Mrs Thoms; I live just around the corner from the school. You have a pupil here by the name of Alfie Madden, who I know very well. In fact, most of the neighbours around here know Alfie. We hear that he has been attacked and beaten up and we are of course very worried about him.'

'I'm afraid I can't help you Mrs Thoms, the school and probably the police are dealing with the matter. Even if I had any more knowledge of the incident than you have, I would not be able to discuss it with you.'

'Look,' she said forcefully, 'every day that boy comes by my house. He helps me; he helps people around here,' pointing at the general area. 'He never asks for anything in return and it's wrong that something like this should happen to such a nice boy. All I want is his address so that I can send him our best wishes, it's the very least we can do.'

'I appreciate your concern, but I think you will need to speak with our Headmaster Mrs Thoms. His office is over there to the left of the main entrance. I guess you will probably need to make an appointment, though.'

He then said goodbye, apologising that he couldn't be of any more help and walked off towards the school.

Peggy stood for a moment, took a few paces towards the Headmaster's office and thought again. She considered whether she should just barge into the head's office but thought it probably more prudent to go home, phone and make an appointment.

She decided she must now call on the various neighbours; particularly those Alfie was so helpful with, to see how they were coping. Most, of course, would have family and friends who would be calling on them so she wasn't overly concerned. But Frank Stolman and the Pattersons had become, to the best of her knowledge, very dependent on Alfie. Peggy had already done some shopping for Frank, who was not very well at all. Now that she knew a bit more about Alfie's situation, she knew she would have to stock up on groceries for Frank for a few more days. Before she went off to the shopping centre, she thought she would call on the Pattersons. She was aware that since Alfie had come on the scene they had found a new lease of life. They had no family of their own and most of the neighbours were in a similar state to them, so until Alfie's arrival they saw very few people and only just managed from day to day. On those days that they were short of food and neither of them was well enough to go out, they did without.

'I'll have no truck with bloody social services, not having them in my house,' Joe Patterson would say when his wife Helen tried to persuade him to call someone. 'Just bloody nosy parkers and snoopers, we'll manage without them interfering,' he would insist.

Peggy could not decide whether Joe was a proud man or just plain obstinate and stupid. She concluded it was probably a bit of all three. To be fair, she knew about the loss of pride and independence when the time came when one could no longer do things for oneself. She had seen her own husband deteriorate to the point of total helplessness and although she was around to help him up until the end, she felt for the Pattersons who had no-one except each other. Both of them were in need of some sort of outside assistance. Alfie's help was like a godsend to them and they had started to look upon him as a member of the family. It wasn't just the shopping and gardening; it was his smile, his bright outlook and chirpiness. He brightened their day.

Peggy knocked on the Pattersons' door and waited. She knew it would take some time for one of them to get up and make their way from the lounge to open it. Eventually, the door opened.

'Hello Peggy,' Helen said with a smile on her face, obviously very glad to see someone. 'Come in please.'

Helen invited Peggy to sit down and offered her a cup of tea. Peggy sat down but declined the tea, explaining that she was about to go to the shops for Frank Stolman and called to see if they needed anything.

'I've also called to tell you about Alfie Madden he has...'

Joe Patterson, who was stretched out on the settee, obviously not feeling well, interrupted.

'We haven't seen anything of him for a few days and we're very disappointed that he hasn't bothered to call,' he said with some sourness in his voice.

'Joe, the reason he hasn't called is because he has been beaten up by a gang of thugs and has not been into school.'

Peggy's tone clearly admonished Joe and he looked slightly embarrassed. He was rescued by Helen asking how Alfie was.

'Problem is, I don't know. I've spoken to a couple of his school friends and all they know is what they were told at their school assembly, which wasn't very much. I went to the school today and spoke to one teacher, but he couldn't or wouldn't tell me anything and insisted that I make an appointment to speak to the Headmaster. I am going to see him at two o'clock on Tuesday.'

The Pattersons were very shocked by what Peggy had told them. Joe immediately sat up and replaced his surly face with one of genuine concern.

'What on earth is going on in this world when a nice young lad like 'our' Alfie can't walk the streets without this sort of thing happening?' Joe was outraged.

'I wish I could answer that Joe, I really do, but I can't and what we must remember; we shouldn't take Alfie for granted. Even if he wasn't hurt, he doesn't have to do what does for us all. There may come a time when he wants to do other things with his life. Anyway, I hope to find out a little more about what has happened when I see his Headmaster on Tuesday and let's hope it's not too serious.'

'Yes, you're right Peggy, we're very lucky to have Alfie around. He's a young man with his whole life in front of him and we shouldn't be annoyed if decides he wants to do other things with his time.' Joe said with genuine remorse in his voice.

Peggy smiled sympathetically and said: 'I am sure that despite what I have said, Alfie will still be knocking on your door if he is at all able to do so. I am beginning to know that young man very well.'

She collected a small list of shopping necessities from Helen and bade them farewell. 'I'll drop your shopping off when I get back.' 
If you would be a real seeker after truth

It is necessary at least once in your life,

You doubt, as far as possible, all things.

Rene Descartes (1596-1650)

Chapter 3
The time for the 5 pm meeting came around pretty quickly and John had still not really fathomed out his next steps. He was confused and worried. He had lots of information but nothing concrete. Even the facts he had were not really facts but hearsay. Where did he hear of the attack? From Alfie's mother. How did he learn of a previous similar incident? From Tom Williams, Alfie's former Headmaster. But where did Tom get his information? That also came from Alfie's mother. The questions buzzed around in his head and the possible answers worried him greatly. Any conclusions he made would be based on assumptions and he had learned from years of dealing with people, especially young people, that you should never make assumptions.

The intercom on John's desk cracked into life. 'Michael and Edwin are here for your 5 o'clock meeting; shall I let them through Mr Southill?'

'That's fine Maureen, thank you. Please don't allow any interruptions for the next hour.'

There was a light tap on the door and Michael Cochran and Edwin Tilley entered. Both men greeted the Headmaster as he beckoned them to sit at a small, round table that John used specifically for meetings.

'Thanks for coming along gentlemen,' John started. 'I've asked you both here to talk about Alfie Madden. You will have heard my announcement at assembly this morning and since then I have discovered that there may be more to this than meets the eye.' John told them of the conversation he'd had with Alfie's previous school Headmaster. Before going into any of his own concerns about the matter he wanted to get the views of the two other members of staff and particularly Alfie's form teacher.

'Edwin, what's your experience of Alfie? Tell me a bit about how he is behaving, what his schoolwork is like and how are his relationships with other pupils?'

Edwin Tilley paused for what seemed quite some time, he had not really thought about the questions he had just been asked. He had, of course, thought of Alfie this morning after the assembly but only fleetingly. He had dismissed the incident as just another teenage bust up that had got a little out of hand. But now that he had been given the information about the attack at Alfie's previous school and the reports of his fighting, there were aspects of Alfie's behaviour that needed to be explained.

'Well, John,' Edwin began, always a little uncomfortable with his use of the Headmaster's Christian name. 'Alfie's work cannot be faulted; he is diligent and applies himself very well. I very often have to chase him for his homework, but I guess that applies to most of them in the form. He excels in most subjects, particularly history, but can display disinterest with some topics.'

'How does he get on with the other kids; what's he like on the sports field, a team player?' John asked.

'He's pretty much a loner. I mean he's pleasant enough and others seem to like him, but he doesn't seem to want to be friends with anyone if you know what I mean. He doesn't really get involved with the sports activities unless he has to. Getting into fights doesn't sound like Alfie, although standing up to bullies is what I would expect him to be involved in. The problem is, on the occasions when I have asked him where he got his fat lip or black eye he's been pretty evasive. It sounds to me like we have a similar pattern that went on in his previous school!'

John brought his deputy into the discussion. 'Michael, what do you read from all this?'

'There are certainly similarities between what is going on here and events in Edward Grant Secondary,' Michael responded. 'The puzzling thing for me is that no-one appears to have witnessed anything, either here or at his last school. After the number of incidents, one could expect someone to have seen something.'

'Let's cut to the chase guys, what do we think is going on here?' John said, urging his colleagues to speak their minds.

Both men hesitated, as neither wanted to share their thoughts straight away and really wanted to hear what John's take was.

John sensed that he needed to take the lead. 'My instinct tells me that Alfie is not getting into fights in school. Yet, all of the facts that we do have are simply that we know he comes into school displaying fight injuries. We know that this also occurred at his previous school, yet there are no witnesses or evidence of the supposed fighting. Do we think that so much could go on without someone knowing or seeing something?'

Edwin pointed out: 'There is a sort of 'honour among thieves'. A lot of the kids think it's cool to keep this kind of extracurricular activity quiet.'

'I'm not sure about that Edwin,' Michael countered. 'I have spoken to many pupils and I didn't get that impression. In fact, only this afternoon I was approached by two of the girls in Form 4 who said they had been talking to an elderly lady in Alderman Avenue, just around the corner from the school. They said that she knew Alfie well and wanted to know why he wasn't stopping by her gate after school, which was something he did almost every day. They told her what the Headmaster had said at the assembly that morning and she was visibly shaken. The lady wanted Alfie's address but the girls didn't know it.'

John interrupted: 'What makes you think this changes anything that Edwin has suggested Michael? He's suggesting some sort of protective behaviour for each other. I don't think that is necessarily unlikely.'

'I agree but interestingly John, the elderly lady told the girls a lot about Alfie. She spoke about how helpful he was with the people in the neighbourhood, especially the elderly and how nice a boy he was. And how much time he spends there doing errands for folk. This does not match the profile that we would expect, given what we are being told. And anyway, I don't believe that absolutely all of our pupils have the ability to disguise their thoughts or necessarily keep a collective secret. That would be stretching a conspiracy theory a little too far.'

The intercom on John's desk sprang into life once again: 'I'm really sorry to interrupt Headmaster, but I believe it may be relevant.'

'Ok Maureen, what is it?' John suppressed his initial annoyance.

'A Mrs Thoms wishes to make an appointment to talk with you about one of our pupils... Alfie Madden.'

'Where does she live Maureen?'

'Alderman Avenue, which is just around...'

'That's ok Maureen we know where it is, please ask her to come in tomorrow. Let me know what time you've arranged.'

The intercom clicked off.

'Well gentlemen, Mrs Thoms may well be able to provide some information, although she may have a totally different view of Alfie from what we have.'

John thought for a moment and then said: 'I am inclined to agree with you, Michael. It just does not stack up. I can understand your theory on this Edwin, but I'm unsure that it stands up to serious scrutiny. I believe we have to make some more enquiries over the next couple of days. I will speak with Mrs Thoms when she comes in, to get a better picture of Alfie outside of the school. Michael, I would like you to contact the police in the district of Alfie's old school; ask them if they have a record of the incident that made the family move away. I will do the same here concerning this latest episode. Edwin, try to find out if there is anyone in Form 5 that would be prepared to talk discreetly to you about Alfie.'

The two men nodded their agreement and made their way out of John's office, saying goodnight to Mrs Weston as they passed.

Mrs Weston flicked on the 'talk' switch on the intercom and informed the Headmaster that Mrs Thoms would be coming in at 2 pm the next day.

John was to spend the next two hours mulling over everything that he knew, trying to fit the pieces together. He didn't like where his thoughts were leading him and yet he could not escape the nagging conclusion that here was one of his pupils who may be the subject of severe abuse. 'But why would he go to so much trouble to hide it? He's fourteen years of age and not a small boy. It just doesn't stack up,' John reasoned. 'Surely he would at least tell someone?'John knew that if the head of a school had such a suspicion there was a protocol they should follow and that would be to inform social services immediately. However, he also knew that if he made that move prematurely it could do irreparable damage to Alfie and his family. Not reporting it could equally have disastrous consequences, particularly for Alfie. 'There is little value trying to second-guess the next steps without knowing much more,' John thought and decided to wait until tomorrow to see what Michael and Edwin could come up with. He also looked forward to speaking with Mrs Thoms. John set off for home, his mind still buzzing with all the unanswered questions still troubling his consciousness. He knew it was not going to be an easy night.

Having worked late at school John decided not to go for a run but would try and relax quietly, which didn't quite work out as intended. His head buzzed with questions and he found it difficult to get into a quiet zone. It was on rare occasions like this that John would recall his fiancée. Images of her would invade his mind amongst all the other thoughts he was trying to deal with. His head was so busy that he didn't have the time or energy to block the unwanted thoughts out. Kate was an extremely beautiful girl, full of life and energy and he was madly in love with her. They had made plans for the future and life was good. His teaching career was on the up and she was doing well as a personal secretary in a large organisation. Then it happened; a horrific crash tore his world apart when the train Kate was travelling on from London hurtled into an oncoming train, killing her and many others. Nine years on he could still see her face but had to work hard in every other aspect of his life to prevent the memories from consuming him. Fortunately, the memories surfaced only very rarely now.

After a restless night, John woke up at his normal time of 6.30am, put two slices of wholemeal bread into the toast maker and made a strong cup of coffee. He always liked to start his day quietly and use the time to prepare mentally for the school day. This morning was different; his thoughts were completely on the situation of Alfie Madden and what he might be faced with today. John completed his breakfast, showered, dressed in his usual crisp white shirt, school tie, smart, well-tailored suit and set off for Wensford Secondary.

He arrived at his office early, as usual, and set about looking at the plan for the day. The main entry in his desk diary, in his view, was his appointment with Mrs Thoms. There were, of course, other things to do and he needed to focus on dealing with those. For the next two hours, he got his head down and waded through the papers in his in-tray.

The deputy head walked into the outer office, acknowledging Mrs Weston, and motioned towards the Headmaster's office.

'Just go in Michael, I believe he is expecting you.'

Michael tapped on John's door, paused for a moment and went in. John looked up from the work he had been engrossed in and then remembered the delicate issue that was to stretch his decision-making capabilities today. At least for the last couple of hours his thoughts had been diverted away from Alfie and were concentrated on his usual school management activities. It was a welcome respite. 'Hello Michael, take a seat,' John said, signalling towards the meeting table. 'I take it you've been able to speak to the police in the area of Alfie's old school?'

'Yes I have John; firstly they wanted a specific date of the reported incident which, of course, I didn't have, so I called Edward Grant School and spoke to the secretary. She recalled the day the parent of a pupil had come in and spoken to Mr Williams, the Headmaster. There had been some trouble with her son being beaten up outside the school. Anyway, she was able to get a date that the parent came in so we can assume it can only have been a day or two prior to that date when Alfie was set upon. I put this to the police and John...' there was a long pause, 'they have no record of an incident of that nature being reported. It looks like the family just up sticks and left the area without bothering with the police. Very strange I think.'

'Yes Michael, that does seem odd. Although Mrs Madden did go into Alfie's school and say she had had enough. It may be that she had no confidence in the police to deal with the matter. After all, she apparently alleged that it was not the first time.'

However, this information did not surprise John at all; in fact, he half expected it.

'Just a moment Michael.' He spoke into the intercom. 'Maureen will you please connect me to the police station that covers this area. I would like to speak to someone responsible for dealing with reported incidents involving groups of youths.'

'I'll connect you straight away Headmaster.' Maureen proceeded to dial the number that was always readily to hand.

'Wensford police station,' the desk duty WPC said, 'how can I help?'

'I have the Headmaster of Wensford Secondary School here who would like to speak to you, just a moment.'

Maureen clicked on the intercom: 'Headmaster, I have the police on the line.'

'Thank you, Maureen, put them through.' John picked up the phone and spoke to the police officer on the other end of the line. He briefly outlined the situation, omitting to say anything about his suspicions. He asked to talk to someone who could give him some information about the incident and was transferred to CID, who would have investigated the report. John spoke to a gravelly voiced detective who was adamant there was no incident of the sort he described reported to his department at that time. 'Is it possible that the incident was logged and not passed on to your department?' John asked.

'No chance, we look at the incident log every day and if someone had been assaulted and it was reported, I would know about it. Mr Southill, have you considered that the kid could be pulling a fast one to get some time off school? Let's face it; it's a good excuse for not turning in.'

John reluctantly agreed that it could be a possibility, thanked the officer and put the phone down. He relayed to his deputy what had been said. 'Michael, do you think it is likely that Alfie is playing truant?'

'I don't think it would explain the evidence of fighting that we do see John. I also can't imagine anyone going to such lengths as deliberately getting injured just for an excuse to stay off school.'

At that moment, Edwin entered the room. 'Morning Headmaster... Michael.' He sat down. 'Well, what have you been able to find out Edwin?' John asked.

Edwin scratched his head. 'Very little really, Headmaster. It's really odd that so little is known about Alfie, where he lives or where he comes from. He doesn't invite anyone to his home and when he is invited to his classmates' parties or gatherings he declines. Nevertheless, his peers hugely respect him. There is an aura about him that others admire. I have tried to establish what it is that they can see in him and it would appear to be that he can always be relied upon to stand up for the underdog.'

John recounted the information that he and Michael had received from the police for Edwin's benefit.

'Surely none of our parents would allow their child to be attacked and not report it to the police?', Edwin commented with some scepticism.

'That, however, does seem to be the case, Edwin. I am trying very hard to understand what is going on here.' John was beginning to sound frustrated. Each piece of information seemed to be contradictory and the more he learned, the more it led him further towards the unthinkable. 'Gentlemen, I will see Mrs Thoms this afternoon and after I have spoken to her, I will call another meeting to decide what to do next. Let's meet again at 5 pm.'

Two o'clock arrived quickly; John got up from his desk and looked out of the window. He saw a portly, elderly lady striding purposefully towards his office. It was the same woman he had seen on Tuesday seemingly remonstrating with the sports master. He spoke to his secretary on the intercom and asked her to show Mrs Thoms in as soon as she arrived.

After a short time, there was a tap on his door and the secretary ushered Mrs Thoms in.

John stood up and walked around the desk to greet his visitor. Holding his hand out he shook Mrs Thoms hand and invited her to sit down in the one comfortable armchair he had in his office. Drawing up a chair from the meeting table he sat next to Peggy and introduced himself. 'Well Mrs Thoms, it's nice to meet you. I believe you want to speak about one of my pupils; Alfie Madden I am told. What is it you wish to know?'

Peggy gave chapter and verse about Alfie and what a nice boy he was and then said: 'I hear Alfie has been attacked and hurt. Is that correct Mr Southill?'

'Yes, I'm afraid it is Mrs Thoms; we're still trying to get to the bottom of it. I am hoping you might shed some light on it, given that you appear to know Alfie very well. What I can tell you is that his mother phoned to let us know that Alfie had been attacked by a gang of youths somewhere away from school. While I understand he is not seriously hurt, he is nevertheless not well enough to come to school.'

She was able to tell John a little more about Alfie and the discussions she had had with him over the short time she had known him. John was in little doubt that Alfie appeared to be a thoroughly nice boy. So if he was getting involved in fights, he felt it unlikely that he would be the instigator. Everything he was learning about Alfie was a contradiction.

'On the occasions that you have seen Alfie has he ever displayed any injuries?'

'Oh yes,' Mrs Thoms replied, 'quite often, in fact. He loves his sports days and especially his rugby. He's quite proud of his knocks and bruises; he says it's all part of the game.'

John remembered the information from his form teacher that Alfie didn't really participate in the team games. He needed to check this out with Edwin.

'Does he ever talk about his family or friends and what he gets up to in his spare time Mrs Thoms?'

'Spare time! I don't know where he finds the time to sleep! It is a bit odd that he never talks about his family or where they come from and I don't think he has many close friends if any. I can't tell you any more than I already have Mr Southill. All my friends and I, the people Alfie helps, would really like is his address so that we can send him our best wishes. I'm told he lives in Rosamond Street but don't know the number of his home.'

'Mrs Thoms, I'm sure you will understand that I am unable to divulge such information to a non-relative. I do promise, though, that I will keep you informed of how he is getting on after I have spoken to his family. Assuming, of course, that they would allow me to do so. If you leave your address and telephone number with my secretary...'

John stood up after scribbling something on a scrap of paper. As Mrs Thoms stood up to leave, John shook her hand, pressing the piece of paper into it.

Mrs Thoms looked puzzled and quickly glanced down at the piece of paper she had been given and saw on it the number 43.

John smiled at her and winked impishly, saying: 'Thank you for coming in Mrs Thoms; sorry I couldn't be of more help. I'm sure Alfie will be fine and back to school soon.' He opened the door for her and asked Maureen to show her out.

Peggy Thoms was quietly pleased with herself and was quite taken by John Southill. 'What a lovely, polite man, handsome too!' she thought. She returned home and seriously considered visiting Alfie now that she knew his address, but quickly put that idea out of her head. 'It may be considered an intrusion by his family,' she thought. 'We will just send a get-well card with a small message and trust that Alfie would be well enough again soon.' After her cup of tea and a short rest, she spent some time visiting Frank and the Pattersons to tell them what she had learned from the school about Alfie. She admitted it wasn't very much. In the meantime, she would have her hands full with carrying out just some of the chores Alfie usually did for the locals but resolved that they would have to be limited to shopping for essentials only.

John Southill was completely unaware that Mrs Thoms would be setting up a chain of events later that evening that not even she or he could have foreseen.

At 5 pm, the three men got together again and John was particularly solemn. After telling his colleagues what Mrs Thoms had told him, he had come to a conclusion. 'Before I tell you what my conclusion from all this is... Edwin, how much rugby is Alfie playing?'

Edwin looked puzzled and confirmed John's suspicions – Alfie never played rugby.

'It's as I thought. Therefore, I have to say that I'm convinced that there was no gang of thugs either here or at his previous school. I also believe that the fights he does get into are a deliberate attempt by Alfie to hide other injuries, injuries that are inflicted on him at home by his parents or other family members. The question I have is; why would a young lad go to such trouble to hide what is going on? He's fit, quite tall for his age, not scrawny and by all accounts can take care of himself against bigger, older lads. It just doesn't make sense. I am certain that we need to get social services involved gentlemen, and yet I have serious doubts that we should,' John continued. 'What puzzles me greatly is the question why a 14-year-old would feel unable to discuss his situation with anyone. What would be stopping him? Why would he go to such great lengths to hide what was happening to him? Will setting the hounds on this family cause more grief than there is already?'

Michael responded: 'John, I think not getting them involved may be a greater risk to this boy. He has clearly had some severe beatings and we are now certain that it's not as his parents are claiming. There are no police reports, no witnesses, not even a whiff of support that would create some doubt in our minds. I don't think we have a choice.'

John looked enquiringly at Edwin.

'I agree with Michael, Headmaster, we should involve them.

'Gentlemen, I believe you're right, there is no option but to report the matter to social services. Although I am concerned that I may be bringing on more trouble for young Alfie by so doing.'

'I believe it's the only course of action Headmaster,' Michael declared.

Edwin nodded in agreement.

'Ok, I will contact the relevant people tomorrow morning and get someone from social services to come here first. I don't want them to go to Alfie's home 'bull in a china shop'. Make yourselves available tomorrow gentlemen; I think you should be involved.'

Michael and Edwin left the office leaving their Headmaster deep in thought.
I know what evil I intend to do but stronger than all my afterthoughts is my fury, fury that brings upon mortals the greatest evils

Euripides

Chapter 4
After speaking to that very nice Headmaster, Peggy spent much of her time weighing up the pros and cons of visiting Alfie or just sending him a note and a card from his grateful 'friends'. The urge was strong to just get up and go to 43 Rosamond Street to see how he was. She could not conceive a situation that his family would mind someone taking the time and trouble to call by and see him. Peggy knew that there was a remote possibility that his parents may question how she got their address, but she argued that it could easily have been obtained from his school friends. Peggy eventually convinced herself that a personal visit would be much more appreciated than just a card through the post. She got herself ready and put on her 'going out' coat. 'It would be a ten-minute walk to Rosamond Street,' she thought as she strode out of her front door.

As she approached number 43, a slight feeling of trepidation overcame her. She didn't know why but the feeling was definitely there. The garden was slightly unkempt, which surprised her given the knowledge of how hard Alfie worked in other people's gardens. It wasn't so much the garden but the unclean windows, the grey, dull, poorly hung curtains and the generally uncared for appearance that disturbed her. Tentatively, she opened the gate and walked towards the front door. She was beginning to regret making the decision to come here. Peggy chastised herself: 'what on earth are you thinking of you stupid woman? Get a grip on yourself.' She stepped up to the front door and knocked purposefully. It was quite some time before she could hear someone unlocking the front door from the inside. The door opened only as far as the security chain would allow.

'Who is it, what do you want?'

It was a woman's voice that almost whispered the question.

'My name is Peggy Thoms; I'm sorry to intrude, but I live in Alderman Avenue near to Alfie's school. Several of my neighbours and I are very fond of Alfie because of how helpful he is. When we heard that he had been beaten up by some thugs outside of school we were deeply saddened and, of course, worried about him.'

'So, what do you want?'

The whisper was still a whisper, but there was a threat in the tone.

Peggy was about to say that she would like to wish Alfie well personally when the security chain was virtually ripped from its mounting as the door snapped back to reveal a menacingly large man. He pushed the woman aside, who Peggy assumed was Alfie's mother. 'What the bloody hell do you want with our Alfie? It's got sod all to do with you what goes on with my family, so piss off back to where you came from and poke your nose in somewhere else.'

The door slammed shut violently.

Peggy stood speechless and frozen for a few moments and was about to knock on the door with the intention of giving that bad mannered individual a piece of her mind. She could hear shouting and things being thrown about. Then she heard Alfie's voice.

'Leave her alone, leave her alone Dad, it wasn't her fault, leave her alone,' Alfie pleaded.

An inside door slammed shut preceded by a mouthful of profanities. The shouting subsided. Peggy could hear the faint sobs of Alfie's mother and knew instinctively that he would be caring for her. Nevertheless, she was seriously concerned.

Peggy turned away and walked quickly down Rosamond Street towards home. On the one hand, she bitterly regretted going to Alfie's house but on the other she was glad to find out why he was so reluctant to talk about his family. There was clearly something seriously wrong going on there. As she made her way from Alfie's house, she realised that she needed to come up with an answer to the question of what to do next. She certainly did not want to cause Alfie or his mother any more grief than she had already. At the same time, she desperately wanted to see Alfie and make sure he was ok. It suddenly occurred to her that she should speak to Mr Southill again. 'He would know what to do,' she thought. Peggy resolved to phone the Headmaster tomorrow and try to see him.

As Mrs Thoms made her away from the house, she heard a door slam with such a thud. She turned to see Alfie's stepfather leaving the house. Thankfully, and breathing a sigh of relief, she saw him storm off in the opposite direction. Peggy now saw an opportunity to try again to see Alfie. She turned about and proceeded back towards number 43. Peggy rapped on the door, this time a little more confidently. She saw an edge of a curtain pulled back slightly and quickly close. There was no response to her knock. She waited and then knocked again.

The inside door lock turned and once more Mrs Madden's face appeared in the gap created by the security chain. Peggy could see that the woman's face was reddened and tear stained. 'Why have you come back here, haven't you already caused enough trouble?' Mrs Madden said, this time more audibly.

'I really do not want to cause any bother Mrs Madden, but Alfie has been very good to me and many of my neighbours, especially the older ones. We just wanted to let him know that we do appreciate what he does.'

'Well you've said what you wanted to say; I will pass it on to him. Now will you please leave us alone.' Alfie's mother nervously peered down Rosamond Street through the gap in the door, looking beyond Peggy and obviously watching out for her husband returning. There was a real fear in her eyes.

Peggy reached into her handbag and retrieved the get-well card signed by all of the neighbours. She also took out a small box of chocolates and asked: 'Will you please give these to Alfie; we would be very grateful.'

The security chain was let loose and the door opened a little wider. Nervously Mrs Madden reached out to collect the items from Peggy. Alfie was now visible, standing behind his mother. He stepped forward and said: 'Thank you, Mrs Thoms, for your kindness and please thank all of the people who have asked about me. I will be alright, honestly, so please don't worry. I need to look after my mum so I would be grateful if you don't come here again. I promise I will be in touch sooner than you think.'

Alfie's face was badly bruised and this distorted his normal good looks. There was a look of pained sadness on Peggy's face; she desperately wanted to give him a hug. She instinctively took a half step forward but was stopped abruptly by the door quickly closing to a small gap once again.

Mrs Madden then spoke almost hysterically. 'Please please don't call here again; you will only cause us more trouble.'

'Why don't you get some help Mrs Madden? Surely there is something you can do; someone you can get help from?'

'No, no, there is nothing that can be done except to leave us alone. You must go now please, please go,' Mrs Madden pleaded and closed the door.

Reluctantly, Peggy turned away and headed off towards her home.

Jack Madden often stormed out of the house and no matter where they had lived, neighbours quickly learnt to avoid him. He was brusque, objectionable and most of the time just downright rude. Tonight was no different. He was sat at the bar of The Piper, one of the few bars that had not yet barred him. Even there he was sailing close to the wind, threatening other customers and generally being verbally abusive to bar staff. The manager, Jim Shout, if the truth were known, was simply afraid of Jack's reaction if he uttered the words: 'You're barred.' So up until now he tolerated his behaviour. But tonight he would be forced to act.

Jack banged his glass on the bar. He had managed to sink quite a few since he arrived two hours earlier. 'Hey you, shit face, fill this up,' he snarled at the young barmaid.

Timidly she said: 'I would appreciate it if you didn't speak to me like that sir.'

'I'll speak to you how the hell I like, just get my drink and shut the fuck up,' he snapped back.

The young woman emotionally buckled and ran from the bar crying.

Jack turned to the audience he now had and with a smirk on his face shrugged his shoulders as if to say: 'What's up with her?'

Some of the customers were heading for the exit, sensing trouble to come.

Jim Shout entered the bar and faced up to Jack. He was a smaller man but sturdy and although in his time, as a public house manager, he had sorted out various troublemakers, he knew that dealing with Jack was different. There was malevolence in this guy. The manager drew himself up to his fullest height and approached Jack. 'I'd like you to leave the premises, please. I cannot tolerate abusive behaviour to my staff or the upsetting of my customers. You are, from now on, barred from this pub. If you attempt to come here again, I will be forced to call the police.'

The smirk on Jack's face disappeared and was replaced by a scowl. Still not looking at the manager but staring into his empty glass, he slammed it into the bar, shattering it. He was left holding the base of the glass with its jagged edges. He swivelled off his bar stool and grabbed the manager around the throat with his free hand and slammed him against the wall. Women customers who were still there screamed while their spouses tried to direct them towards the door. Jim spluttered the words: 'Police, phone police.'

Suddenly Jack's demeanour changed, realising that he had seriously overstepped the mark. He gently released his victim, placed the broken glass on the bar and apologised for the damage. 'Obviously I'll pay for any damage,' he said with a smile on his face. 'And do apologise to your barmaid on my behalf, she just caught me at a bad time.' Jack helped the bar manager straighten his crumpled shirt in a gentle yet, at the same time, threatening manner.

'Forget the damage,' the manager said shakily 'but I would appreciate it if you would leave now.'

Jack, wanting to minimise the chance of the police being involved, said: 'Of course it would be best if I left now but I hope there are no hard feelings.' He was pleased to see that some customers had stayed and were now carrying on where they had left off with their evening. Jack left the pub and started walking towards his home. He managed thus far to suppress the rage that was building up inside him but as he walked he could feel anger so intense and he knew that someone was going to pay for making him feel this way.

The flashing lights of a police car hurtled past him and came to a stop outside The Piper. Jack quickened his step even though he was sure no one knew who he was or where he lived. The Piper was some distance from Rosamond Street, so he knew that by the time statements were taken he would be well out of reach. He walked briskly and with purpose. The rhythm of his breathing matched his pace but as his pace slowed so his breathing became heavier, more intense, and more deliberate.

As he approached number 43, he saw that the lights were still on. He often wondered why the hell he married Sally, who liked to be called by her full name – Alison. He didn't love her, well not really. She had become tiresome, popping pills and running off to the doctors at every opportunity. He truly believed that he was right to give a good slapping from time to time; sort of kept her in her place. 'The complication in recent years was that bloody son of hers. He had started to interfere and so I had to defend myself against him. I might have gone a bit too far on occasions, but he asked for it. The problem is that he is getting a bit bigger and stronger now, so I have to watch my back,' Jack pondered. He had made sure that Alfie never reported the real reason for his injuries. Alfie remembered the night that Jack gave his chilling promise vividly. He pushed Alfie up against the wall very roughly and looked at him with a menace that sent a wave of fear through young Alfie. Jack spat the words: 'If ever the authorities come anywhere near this house I will kill your mother long before the police can get to me and lock me up. So don't even think about it... ever. Do you understand what I am saying?'

Alfie was too scared to answer; words would not come out of his mouth. He tried to nod his head but was held too tight against the wall. Jack screamed at him, his contorted face just inches away from Alfie's.

'Do you understand me, lad?'

'Yes' sobbed Alfie.

Jack let him go and Alfie sank to the floor, shaking with fear.

That was four years ago and since then Alfie had got used to the beatings. At least when he did get a beating from Jack, it was always because he came to the aid of his mother. After an attack, Jack would clearly regret his actions and would recognise the seriousness of what he had done. He would disappear for days and sometimes weeks. To Alfie, the beating was worth it to get the brute away from his mother and let them both live a normal life. He often thought: 'What if I go to the police now, while he's away? He surely couldn't do anything if they were waiting here for him. But what if they didn't believe me, what if he evaded them?' He knew he couldn't risk it. For the time being he would put up with it and just make sure his mother had at least some sort of protection.

Jack was about to step across the road to his house when he saw a police car approaching from the opposite direction. He quickly scurried into a dimly lit part of the street and watched as the police car pulled up outside number 43. 'Damn,' he thought, 'someone at the pub must have known where I lived and told them.' He was sure that he didn't know anyone and was certain Jim the manager didn't. 'Who the hell could it have been?' he said in a whisper through gritted teeth. He watched the two police officers get out of the car and walk up to his front door.

Once again Alfie's mother hesitatingly opened the door as far as the security chain would allow. Before she had the chance to ask what the caller wanted the policeman said: It's the police ma'am, we would like to talk to your husband.'

The officers presented their badges into the gap in the doorway.

Alison, feeling a little safer, released the chain from the door.

'He's not in, what's it about?' she asked. 'We would rather discuss that with your husband. When is he due home?' the officer enquired.

'He'll be home when he's good and ready, I really don't know,' Alison said truthfully. She never dared to ask him where he was going or when he would be home. She had realised fairly soon after they married what a brute he was, but she loved him and could put up with his ways. As time went on things got progressively worse and the point came when she fully understood what would happen to Alfie if she tried to leave him or, worse, get the police involved. She had not told Alfie how much danger he was in because she always believed she would find a way out, somehow. Whenever she considered a plan to resolve the problem, Jack's threat would quickly resurface in her mind, suppressing the urge to do something that would get her and young Alfie away.

'I will break every bone in your young son's body and make sure that he never walks again. That is not a threat but a promise if you ever consider trying to shop me. Do I make myself clear?' He had snarled at her, his face contorted with anger, his grip on her upper arms digging into her like steel rods.

The pain of his vice-like grip was less fearful than that malevolent look on his face. The deep black pupils of his eyes seemed to throb as though they had evil thoughts and a will of their own. They threatened just as much as the words.

Now she was in a position she had feared most. Here she was with two uniformed police officers standing on her doorstep. God help her, and particularly Alfie if he saw them now. She had to get rid of them as quickly as she could. 'I'm really not feeling good officer and need to go in and rest. Can I call you as soon as he comes in? I'm sure he'll be happy to help with whatever it is you want to talk to him about.'

Reluctantly, the two police officers agreed, said goodnight and left.

They sat in their car outside the house for a short time while they wrote up their notes and then drove off. They had earlier been called to The Piper because of a reported violent incident. They fully expected to be greeted with the results of the usual drunken brawl but were pleasantly surprised only to see a broken beer glass. They took statements from the manager and bar staff and any customers and had a good description of Jack Madden. The truth of the matter was that although there was threatening behaviour no one had actually been physically hurt, so the police were not overly concerned. If they could find the guy, they would just give him a verbal warning and remind him he was barred from the pub. One of the customers came forward and said that they didn't know his name but knew where the man lived. The customer was a plumber who had recently had to repair a leak at number 43 Rosamond Street.

'It looked like a kitchen sink had been ripped away from the wall. The big man said he was standing on it to fix the window above it when it collapsed under his weight,' the pub customer stated. 'The way he spoke to that young barmaid was a disgrace and to threaten Jim the way he did. He needs locking up.'

Even if Jack had seen the plumber at The Piper he would not have remembered him; he never remembered unimportant faces.

Jack watched the police car pull away and decided to wait for a while before going into the house.

Alison was frantically trying to collect her thoughts. 'What do we do now?' she asked herself. 'If he comes home and the police call again, there will be hell to pay. We have to get out now; get as far away from here as possible.' She called for Alfie. 'Get as many of your clothes together as you need for a few days; we are getting away from him for good.'

Alfie was pleased that his mother had finally made this decision, but he realised that they had to move quickly. 'Where will we go Mum and what about money and somewhere to stay?' Alfie had already considered these questions and had been stashing money away for some time from his odd jobs, knowing that one day this would happen.

'I don't know Alfie, but anywhere will be better than here. Hurry, we must move quickly.'

Alfie ran up the stairs and started to throw a few essentials into his holdall. As he came down the stairs, he came face to face with his mother who had packed at the same time what she needed. They turned towards the door and her heart stopped when she heard the sound of a key in the lock. The colour drained from both of their faces as they stood rooted to the spot in absolute dread of what and who was coming through the door.

Jack was fumbling with the lock, which gave the terrified pair time to retreat to the kitchen. Alison stuffed the two bags behind a chair in the corner of the room and quickly sat down at the table, her heart pounding. Alfie was frightened but preparing himself for what he knew would be an onslaught from his stepfather.

The front door slammed and three purposeful strides took Jack to the kitchen door. He opened the door and very slowly but menacingly closed it behind him. He turned to see Alfie standing by the side of his mother with his arm around her shoulder. The corner of Jack's mouth curled upwards in a smirk.

There were several moments of silence that to Alfie and his mother seemed an eternity.

Jack suddenly spoke in a very quiet and deliberate tone.

'So, apart from that interfering busybody who came earlier, who else have you been talking to tonight and what have you been saying?'

Alison knew that she could not lie; he would see straight through her.

'Two policemen called earlier to talk to you. I swear to God Jack, I don't know why they came or who called them and they wouldn't say what they wanted to talk to you about.'

Suddenly, in horror, Alison spotted the card and box of chocolates from Mrs Thoms on the sideboard. In her haste, she had forgotten all about them. Jack's piercing eyes followed hers and saw the items. It took him just a few seconds to figure out that the woman must have called back after he left to go to the pub.

'Liar,' he screamed. 'You saw that bloody busybody again and must have been blabbing to her, and she's gone and called the police.' His face was red with rage, the veins in his neck bulging and his knuckles clenched white. He moved to the side of the table opposite the petrified pair and slammed both fists into the wooden surface, almost splitting the table in two. He was screaming out his words. 'I warned you both what would happen if you ever got the police onto me.'

'Please Dad, Mum nor I have said anything to anyone. We didn't ask for Mrs Thoms to come here and she only came back to drop the card and gift off.'

Alfie's voice belied his fear.

Jack's breathing was now rapid as he started to consider his options. He knew that the worst thing the police could slap on him would be an assault charge on the boy and his mother. But if the history came out it might mean a jail sentence. Anyway, his rage and anger destroyed any semblance of rationale. His eyes suddenly fell onto the chair in the corner of the room; he could see something that wasn't usually there. He strode over to the chair and lifted the two bags from behind it.

Unzipping the first bag, he started to drag clothes out of it and throw them onto the kitchen floor. 'So, decided to go somewhere without telling me eh?' he shouted. 'The police; now this,' he screamed as he tore at the bags, ripping the contents out.

Alfie and his mother had nothing to say; they knew it was pointless. She was shaking with absolute terror; Alfie was doing his best to contain his fear and concentrated on comforting his mother. He held her tightly.

Jack's rage suddenly exploded. In one quick stride, he reached the terrified pair and wrenched Alfie from his mother's shaking frame. She tried to hold on to him but didn't have the strength. Alfie was gripped by the throat by his stepfather and pushed up against the wall. He fought with all of his might and punched out at his assailant in a wild, futile attempt to free himself. Jack was relatively unaffected by Alfie's blows but, nevertheless, he could feel the anger in the young boy's determined efforts.

Suddenly, Alfie raised his knee very sharply into Jack's groin. Jack screamed out and doubled over, clutching himself between his legs. Alfie had hurt him and Jack had very rarely been hurt by anyone before. Alfie seized on the breathing space and started to pummel Jack about the head and body. Young Alfie forced his attacker down onto his knees and was gathering strength with every blow. He could hear his mother sobbing as he delivered a torrent of punches. All of the pent up anger was now pouring out of Alfie in retaliation for all the beatings he had endured. He punched and kicked and used his knee; he badly wanted to really hurt this animal that had caused him and his mother so much pain.

Jack suddenly regained his senses and in the process of standing up through the hail of punches and kicks, lashed out, catching Alfie on the side of the head; knocking him back up against the wall. Alfie was severely dazed and now in no condition to defend himself. He had exhausted all the strength he had.

'I am going to teach you a lesson you'll never forget,' Jack snarled through a bloodied mouth.

He grabbed Alfie by the throat once again and was about to deliver a clenched-fist blow to the boy's face when he heard Alison behind him.

'Let him go, let him go, you bastard,' Alison screamed as she rushed at him with a large kitchen knife in her hand.

He punched Alfie on the jaw before turning to confront his new attacker. Alfie slumped to the floor no longer in full control of his senses; everything was a haze. He could vaguely see the outline of Jack bearing down on his mother.

She stopped in her tracks but held the knife shakily in front of her.

'Just what do you think you're going to do with that then Mrs?' Jack said, glancing at the knife with a sneer on his bloodstained face. She had had ample opportunity in their married life to do him some harm, particularly when he was asleep. He had even goaded her into trying, but as far as he was concerned she didn't have the courage. Emboldened by those thoughts, he stood in front of her with his hands on hips saying: 'Come on then, give it your best shot. You haven't got the spit to do anything have you? All the time I have known you, you've been a weak-willed, lily-livered and pathetic specimen of a woman. I have despised you for as long as I can remember.'

His head was thrown back as Alfie, who had now managed to regain some strength, leapt onto Jack's back. Jack discarded Alfie once again with relative ease, leaving him virtually unconscious against the wall.

In that split second, Alison stepped forward, plunging the knife into Jack's stomach. She let go of it and quickly stepped back. She could see the knife buried several inches into his belly.

Jack stared down at his stomach in disbelief. He could see the knife sticking out and could feel the warmth of his own blood starting to flow. The rage that welled up inside him was now more magnified than he had ever experienced. He stepped forward, grabbing the defenceless Alison, and flung her viciously against the wall. Despite the knife buried deep in his gut, he grabbed her by the hair and was pummelling her face into the wall. She made a gurgling sound and slumped to the floor, blood pouring from her mouth and a large crack in her skull.

The young boy, shattered and horrified by what he was witnessing, was unable to help his mother. From what he could see of her terrible injuries, he knew there was little hope. He wept silently, tears running down his young face. Not having the strength any longer to scream or cry out he now wished for death himself.

Jack was becoming weak through the loss of blood and exertion. Finding it difficult to focus, he turned to where Alfie was laying and staggered towards him.

He clearly wanted to finish what he'd started but now felt very weak. He sank to his knees and then slumped forward, finishing in a position across Alfie's legs. The weight of his fall succeeded in thrusting the knife further into his body, expelling the last amount life from him. His eyes, still open, black and piercing, stared at Alfie as if to say I finished your mother, but I'm not finished with you... yet.

It didn't matter to Alfie; nothing did now. He had seen his mother die in front of him and watched the lifeblood pour from her. He didn't care for this place anymore. He needed to escape to another place and be safe. He drifted into unconsciousness. 
Crime butchers innocence to secure a throne, and innocence struggles with all its might against the attempts of crime.

Maximilien Robespierre

Chapter 5
The two police officers finished their coffee. They sat in their police car in the usual place whenever they wanted a break. This lay-by was a favourite stop for Bravo 112 when they toured the area of Wensford, especially on quiet nights like this. Their visit to The Piper was not very exciting and they were unable to follow up the information given to them at the pub. All in all, it was a pretty boring evening for them. They discarded their empty cups in the wastebasket and started to do another tour of the area. As they were driving along Rosamond Street, they noticed that the lights were still on in the house they had visited earlier.

'What do you reckon Brenda, shall we?' Gary asked.

'I don't see why not,' replied Brenda. 'I know it's a bit late but there is an accusation of assault and threatening behaviour, let's do it.'

They stopped the police car outside number 43 and proceeded up to the front door. As they approached the house, a woman from the next-door property hurried towards them.

'Excuse me, officers.' She went up to them and said in a hushed voice. 'There have been some horrific noises coming from this house tonight, screaming and shouting, doors banging... terrible, terrible screams; never heard anything like it. I was going to report it to you people, but then it suddenly went very quiet. I haven't heard a sound for the last hour. There has been screaming and shouting before tonight but nothing like this – this was awful.'

'Don't worry ma'am, we'll take care of it now. You go home and make yourself a nice cup tea. We'll come and talk to you if we need any more information, thank you.' The officers proceeded towards the front door. As they did so, the neighbour said: 'I'm really worried about that young boy and his mother, she's married to a real brute of a man. I hope they are alright.'

She shuffled her way back to her house, nervously looking back towards number 43.

As the officers approached the front door, they saw that it was slightly ajar. Jack, in is haste to get in, had not shut it properly. As the lights were still on, the officers knocked reasonably firmly, just in case the occupants had fallen asleep in front of the TV. The door opened a little wider, but there was no reply. They rapped on the door again, this time quite forcefully, shouting: 'This is the police; we need to talk to someone in the household, please respond.' Gary motioned to Brenda to follow him into the house. 'Hello, anyone here?' He shouted loudly. The light shone from under the door of a room directly ahead of them, so both officers moved towards it. Gary gestured to Brenda to stay back as he knocked on the door with authority. 'This is the police; is anybody home?'

The police officer could feel his adrenaline levels rising; he could sense things were just not right. He opened the door and gasped at the scene that confronted him. His left hand reached for his radio and the other released the Taser weapon from its holster. If there was anyone still in the house who might be responsible for what had happened here, then they were in for a very big shock – literally!

WPC Brenda Hall, a fairly new recruit to the force, had dealt with nothing more serious than Saturday night drunks, up until now. She peered past Gary and almost fainted when she realised what she was witnessing. The body of a woman lay face down in a pool of blood, a big man lay face down across the legs of a young boy; both were covered in blood. Hardly anywhere on the kitchen floor was untainted by the blood of these victims. The smell of death permeated the air and each breath taken seemed to stop at the back of her throat. She had an overwhelming desire to get away and gulp down the fresh air from outside.

'God knows what has happened here tonight,' Gary said out loud.

He looked at Brenda, who was drained of colour and visibly distressed by the scene. 'Brenda, get a grip girl; you can't let me down now. I need you to be strong. I want you to go next door and get a full statement from the neighbour we spoke to earlier,' he commanded. He knew he had to get Brenda away from the house before she keeled over on him.

'I will check for signs of life and then call it in.' He was about call HQ and remembered to tell his colleague: 'Do not touch anything on your way out Brenda. DS Charlie Adams is on duty on the CID desk tonight; he'll go ape if anything of his crime scene has been disturbed.'

Brenda couldn't drag her eyes away from the bodies on the floor in front of her but said, in a quivering voice: 'Ok Gary, but I feel sick. I need to use the bathroom. I think I am going to vomit!' She was ghostly white and gagging.

'No bloody way Brenda, go puke in the garden on your way out, but don't you touch anything here, understood? On second thoughts, don't use this garden; SOCO may have to rummage through it for evidence. Just do as I say and go next door. Take deep breaths on the way, you'll be fine,' Gary said unsympathetically. Gary clicked on his radio and spoke into the microphone: 'Bravo 112.' He waited for a response and continued: 'We have a major incident at 43 Rosamond Street. Three victims, all appear to have serious injuries. We need CID, SOCO and paramedics down here right away, over.'

Headquarters acknowledged and initiated a major crime procedure.

Gary decided he should check for signs of life although he held out little hope given the amount of blood on the floor. He went firstly to the woman, who was nearest to him. He moved her hair, which was draped over her face to one side so that he could get to her neck and check for a pulse. 'Jesus H Christ, what a mess,' he said, wincing at the gruesome sight he uncovered. Her face was almost unrecognisable; she had been beaten to a pulp. There was no pulse. He gingerly stepped over to the two male figures that lay together. The larger man was laying on his face across the legs of a younger man, who was in a sitting position against the wall. He was suddenly aware that the young man was merely a boy and immediately felt for a pulse in the boy's neck. It was weak, but the boy was alive. Gary reached for his radio: 'Bravo 112, over.'

The radio crackled a response.

'At least one of the victims is alive, get paramedics here ASAP, over.'

The instantly recognisable gravelly voice of Detective Sergeant Charlie Adams addressed Gary.

'The paramedics are on their way, so am I; what have you got there Gary?'

Gary described the scene to the CID sergeant and at the same time was feeling for a pulse on the large man.

'The big guy is undoubtedly dead Sarge, not surprising given the amount of blood he's laying in.'

'Do not let anyone mess up my crime scene, constable, or I'll have your guts for garters. SOCO will be there shortly,' Charlie warned.

The paramedics were the first to arrive. Gary directed them to the boy. He implored them to keep as much of the crime scene intact as possible. 'The two dead bodies must be left in the positions they are in now if possible, 'he instructed. Gary decided to use his mobile phone to take photographs. Once the medics started their work, they would want to get the live one into the A&E unit as soon as possible, irrespective of anything else. So the likelihood was that they wouldn't be too bothered about preserving the crime scene.

After checking for signs of life on both Alison and Jack, the medics carefully moved Jack to one side so that they could check Alfie out; in doing so they exposed the cause of Jack's demise. The knife was now buried fully up to its handle, deep in Jack's gut.

Gary tapped on the table to attract the paramedics' attention.

'Guys, when you move the boy will you put the big guy back where he was. I don't need more grief from my CID sergeant than I already get?'

The paramedics muttered their agreement.

The lead medic couldn't see any major injuries on Alfie; there was some bruising and swelling on his face and his lip was badly cut. Old injuries were noted, but they thought these were not relevant to tonight's incident. Alfie's heartbeat was steady and although his breathing was shallow, it seemed as though he was in a peaceful sleep. They applied an oxygen mask, checked his heart and breathing. Although he seemed to be in shock, the boy could be moved. The medics assembled their portable stretcher and Alfie was gently lifted onto it. They quickly manoeuvred themselves and the stretcher through the house to their waiting ambulance. They had not been able to figure out what had caused the boy's loss of consciousness and could only assume he had been knocked out by a blow to the head during what was obviously a violent struggle. A&E reception had been alerted and was ready to receive the injured boy. The doctors there would no doubt establish the cause and extent of his injuries fairly quickly.

Scene of crime officers pulled up outside the house and immediately started their well-rehearsed drill of sealing off the crime scene. SOCO was quickly followed by DS Adams.

Charlie Adams had been in the force for nearly thirty years and had the experience and arrogance to match. He strode purposefully towards the house, ignoring WPC Hall at the door, who was now back from taking the statement from the next-door neighbour. He never had much time for females in the force and did little to hide the fact.

Brenda's composure had now almost fully recovered. By taking up a position at the front of the property, she was able to avoid the horrible picture that had shocked her so badly.

Detective Sergeant Adams didn't bat an eyelid when he entered the kitchen; he had seen many violent crime scenes in his time. His first concern was the preservation of the area. SOCO were doing their job; photographing from every angle; sealing off rooms and dusting off areas for fingerprints. The perpetrator, or perpetrators, were, at this point, unknown. 'What can you tell me Gary that will give me a clue as to what went on here, other than what I see?' Charlie said in his usual scratchy voice.

'Well Sarge, earlier tonight we were called to an incident at The Piper. A man apparently threatened the manager with a broken beer glass. The incident turned out to be nothing serious and the accused individual had left before we arrived. It turned out that the guy doing the threatening was this person here,' Gary said, pointing to Jack's lifeless body. 'We got his address from someone in the pub who had done some work in this very kitchen. When we called here to speak to him, his wife said he wasn't in yet. We said we would call back.'

'What about the boy, how serious are his injuries, can we talk to him?' DS Adams asked.

'He doesn't appear to have any life-threatening injuries Sarge, but he is unconscious. He has certainly knocked about a bit and according to the medics he seemed to have some injuries that were not committed tonight.'

The coroner pushed his way into the room and started to prepare for his initial examination of the bodies. 'Don't mind me DS, I'll let you know when I have something to tell you.'

'What do we know about the family, Gary? Adams continued, ignoring the interruption.

'Not a lot,' Gary replied, 'but Brenda, sorry Sarge, WPC Hall, has taken a statement from the next-door neighbour who seemed to know a bit. Going on what we learnt in the pub and the things the woman next door told us. My guess is that he,' pointing to the dead body, 'was an arsehole of the first order.'

'You could say he's fairly harmless now,' Adams said sarcastically. 'Tell WPC Hall to come in here with her notes.'

Gary tried to explain that his colleague was relatively new to the job and was upset by what she saw earlier.

'She's going to have to bloody well get used to it if she wants to work on my watch.' Adams was in no mood to play social worker; he had a job to do and so did she.

WPC Hall followed her colleague into the kitchen and avoided looking specifically at the bodies on the floor. The coroner had completed his examination and was making notes.

'Detective Sergeant,' he said, 'I can't tell you much more than what you can probably gather for yourself. The woman's head was smashed against the wall, several times, quite forcefully, causing severe compression of the skull and probably significant internal bleeding. As you can see, the male has been stabbed with a large kitchen knife in the stomach and has lost a significant amount of blood. I need to get both bodies back to the lab and carry out a full autopsy. I will confirm the real cause of their deaths as soon as I know.'

'What is your estimated time of death Doctor?' Adams asked.

'Not too long ago,' the coroner replied. 'It probably occurred in the last two hours. Can I remove them now?'

Adams checked with his team, who confirmed that they had completed what they needed to do. 'Yes, go ahead Doc.'

'Now where's WPC Hall?'

The detective directed his question to no one in particular.

'Ah, there you are. No need to hide away, come on in Constable,' he said to Brenda patronisingly.

She was standing discreetly just outside the door.

'Now what did you find out from the next-door neighbour?'

Brenda took a deep breath and stood erect. She needed to show this arrogant sod that she was in control. She gave a précis of the woman's statement who, she concluded, thought Jack Madden was a rude, arrogant, bully who was regularly drunk. There were constant arguments and she knew he wasn't averse to beating up Mrs Madden. She thought the boy was a lovely lad and worried greatly about his welfare. He apparently attended Wensford Secondary. The family only moved here about four months ago but didn't mix. She knew nothing about where they came from. She spoke a few times to Alfie, the boy, but avoided Jack Madden as much as she could.'

'What did she tell you about tonight constable?' Adams asked impatiently.

'At about 11 pm she heard lots of shouting and banging around and then horrific screams. After about half an hour it stopped,' Brenda replied. 'We arrived to follow up our first call about an hour later and discovered the bodies. The front door was slightly ajar, but there was no sign of forced entry.'

'I want both of your reports on my desk tomorrow morning,' he said gruffly.

Then, addressing the rest of the teams, he barked various orders to seal the crime scene and the house. 'I also want an officer at the bedside of the kid. As soon as he comes to I want to be the first to know about it.' DS Adams looked directly at Brenda: 'I will visit Wensford school tomorrow morning. Goodnight,' and abruptly walked out.

Gary winked at Brenda. 'I think he rather likes you.'

Charlie Adams was already convinced that the kid had stabbed his father in an attempt to stop him beating up his mother. He needed to talk to him as soon as he regained consciousness. 'That kid must have some balls to take on that guy, especially given what he had done to his mother.'

The next morning John Southill arrived at his desk at the usual time and was well into the daily grind of sifting through the Headmaster's in-tray. He had been at it for about two hours and was about to phone social services when the intercom sprang into life.

'Good morning Headmaster,' Maureen said. 'I have two gentlemen here from the police to see you, sir.'

John answered with some puzzlement in his voice.

'Show them in please, Maureen.' The police officers were ushered in and directed to the meeting table.

'Good morning gentlemen, please sit down. What can I do for you?' John asked.

DS Adams introduced himself and his colleague DC Mujhadsinhg.

'We are currently investigating two murders that occurred last night Mr Southill; we believe they are the parents of one of your pupils, his name is Alfie Madden.' Adams let this initial information sink in. John was visibly shaken. DS Adams continued: 'What can you tell us about the family and, in particular, the boy?'

'Just a moment officer, I need to get this clear in my head. You are telling me that both Alfie's mother and stepfather have been killed! What about Alfie? Where is he? Is he ok?' The questions were spinning around in John's head.

'The boy is alive but unconscious in the hospital. We don't yet know the extent of his injuries. We will talk to the boy as soon as he regains consciousness. An officer is at his bedside,' Charlie replied. 'Now what can you tell us, Headmaster?'

John didn't respond immediately; he was lost in a thousand thoughts.

'Headmaster?' Charlie repeated.

John Southill was still trying to absorb what he had been told. He cleared his head and proceeded to tell the officer all that had happened regarding Alfie and how he was about to get social services involved. He also now remembered the gravelly voice of DS Adams as the one he had spoken to some days ago. 'What in heaven's name happened officer? I suspected that there might have been some physical abuse towards Alfie but nothing quite as serious as this,' John asked.

'I can't tell you very much more Headmaster, except to say that we do not think anyone outside the family was involved. We believe that your suspicions were well founded and that a chain of events last night led to the two murders,' DS Adams explained. 'We will know more when we get the coroner's report.'

'You're surely not suggesting that Alfie was responsible for this?' John asked incredulously.

'I cannot tell you anything else Headmaster, except to say that Mrs Madden was badly beaten and died of her injuries and Mr Madden was fatally stabbed. That information is strictly confidential at this moment and I would appreciate it if you keep it that way for the time being.'

Adams and his DC stood up and made their way towards the door. 'Please let me know if you learn anything else about Alfie that might help us with this enquiry.' He shook John's hand and moved towards the door.

'Of course,' said John as he shook the DC's hand. John was dazed. He immediately started to question his judgement. 'Why didn't I act sooner? Could I have prevented it? What the hell was I thinking? Surely I should have spotted something?' He would have to brief Michael and Edwin now but knew he was limited in what he could tell them. He also considered the possibility of walking around to Mrs Thoms. The first she might hear of it would be from the newspapers and that would upset her more than the news coming from him sympathetically. He briefed his deputy, Michael, and the form teacher, Edwin. Both were extremely shocked but agreed to a moratorium on making anything public for the time being.

It was now 11 am and he didn't think it would be too early to visit Mrs Thoms. He told Maureen that he was going out for a short time but did not mention where he was going. 'The less said for the moment, the better,' he thought. It was a short walk to Peggy's house in Alderman Avenue. He rang the doorbell and shortly Mrs Thoms opened the door.

'Hello Mr Southill, what a nice surprise.' She was genuinely pleased to see him. 'I hope you've come to tell me that they've caught those thugs who hurt Alfie. I have some things to tell you. Come in and I'll make a nice cup of tea?'

'Mrs Thoms,' John hesitated, 'I have to tell you that there has been a terrible turn of events concerning Alfie. Don't worry about the tea please, just sit down and I'll tell you what has happened.'

The colour had drained from Peggy's face; she knew instinctively that there was worse to come.

When John told her of the deaths of Alfie's parents and that Alfie was in the hospital, she slumped in her chair and sobbed uncontrollably. 'Oh my God, it's all my fault, all my fault, dear God why did I go there? I'm a stupid interfering old busybody. Oh, look what I've done.' The words were coming out in stuttering spurts between the sobs and John was finding it difficult to understand what she was saying through her wailing. 'Oh my God, oh God, what have I done?' she kept saying.

It took some time for John to calm Peggy down and eventually she told him about her visit to Alfie's house the previous night. He could now understand why she was so upset.

'Mrs Thoms, I really do not think you were the cause of what happened last night. If anything, I am responsible for not taking action when I should have done.'

Mrs Thoms looked puzzled.

'I would not want you say this to anyone else and I trust you not to tell a soul, but there have been problems with Alfie's family for quite some time. The injuries that he has been displaying from time to time were not acquired on the rugby field and that's all I can say for the moment. But I think you get the drift of what I am saying.'

The realisation of what John was alluding to was suddenly to dawn on her. Peggy was incensed.

'Do you mean that poor boy has been getting beaten up by that brute of a father of his. I tell you, I saw that man last night and, believe me, he was not very nice at all. I knew something wasn't right the second time I called after he had gone out. Alfie's mother was scared witless and was too frightened to open the door to me. Something was just not right!'

'Mrs Thoms, you must not say anything about what I have told you, but I believe you need to tell the police what happened last night. They need all the information they can get to try and find out exactly what happened. Would you like me to ask them to come and see you?'

Mrs Thoms was still quite shaken but was a little calmer and agreed to see the police. John made her a cup of tea and said he would call in again in the evening. 'In the meantime I'll speak to DS Adams and ask him to come and see you. The incident will probably be on the TV news this evening Mrs Thoms and there may be a police statement.'

'What about Alfie? Can I go and see him?' Peggy asked hopefully.

'I really don't think so just yet Mrs Thoms. Alfie is unconscious and there is a police officer at his bedside at all times, waiting for him to wake up. They really do need to speak to him because he is the only one who knows what happened. I have to go back to the school now Mrs Thoms,' John said. 'Are you going to be alright?'

'Yes, I'll be fine thank you Mr Southill, and thank you for being so thoughtful. This is a dreadful, dreadful, state of affairs. Poor Alfie and his poor mother too. I can't help thinking that my visit to Alfie's house last night was ill-judged. I am so, so sorry.' Peggy started to weep again, this time very softly, her tears rolling down her face. She wiped them away with one of her pure white linen handkerchiefs. John gently placed a hand on her shoulder and said goodbye.

It was now noon and the TV stations were pushing out breaking news about the deaths. There were photographs of the house cordoned off and surrounded by police vehicles.

Earlier, DS Adams had briefed his boss about the incident so that a press conference could be held. Detective Inspector Morrison had asked if his Sergeant was absolutely certain there was no one other than the family involved. Charlie confirmed this and also gave his view of what had happened.

'Obviously the boy stuck the kitchen knife into his Dad, who was attacking his mother. It clearly didn't prevent his mother getting pulverised, but I think the kid didn't realise just how much damage his father had inflicted. The position of the father's body across the boy's legs suggests that the father, having finished off his wife, turned to set about the boy, and that's when he knifed him. He then fell forward into the position we found him in.'

DI Morrison said: 'Sounds about right, but let's not say anything about your theory until we have the coroner's report, ok?'

'That's fine by me.'

Charlie was confident.

Only basic details were given to the press. There were, of course, many questions that could not be answered at this stage.

'We are waiting for the coroner's report and are continuing our enquiries; we will let you all know as further facts emerge.'

This tended to be the stock answer.

A journalist raised his hand.

'Inspector, Jason Bridgenorth, Daily Globe; can you tell us anything about the boy. I believe he is still unconscious in hospital, and can you confirm that he is a pupil at Wensford Secondary?'

'We have very little information at the moment. We can confirm he attended Wensford secondary school' the DI replied, 'but we are waiting for him to regain consciousness, at which time he will be interviewed. That's all I have to say for the time being; another briefing will be held when we have more information on the matter, thank you.'

The police officers returned to the DI's office to discuss the situation further and, in particular, to press the coroner for his report. He was asked to inform the DI as soon he was able to establish time and cause of deaths and any other pertinent information.

In the meantime, DS Adams had been talking with the fingerprint team to see what they had come up with. He was knocked for six when he was told that the only fingerprints on the knife that killed the husband were those of his dead wife.

'Are you certain?' he asked. 'There are definitely no other prints on that knife?'

'Absolutely certain,' countered the officer from SOCO.

Charlie Adams immediately crossed the hall to his boss's office, knocked and entered.

'Ah Charlie, glad you've come over, the coroner is here with his report. I think you'll find it interesting.'

Charlie got in quickly with his fingerprint information and admitted that his theory was probably wrong.

'So Doctor, what did happen if it wasn't the boy?'

The coroner responded: 'We were able to establish that it was most probably the wife who stabbed her husband. The blood on the floor by her body and the spatter stains on her clothes were his. It would seem he killed her before the knife wound became fatal and after he had finished with her, he turned towards the boy. The amount of effort he must have expended in pounding his wife's head into the wall would have caused considerable bleeding. One other thing; we found traces of DNA that were not the woman's in some of the scratches and superficial wounds he had on his face and neck. We can only assume that they were caused by the boy in trying to save his mother. We will confirm this when we can obtain a DNA sample from the lad.'

'I believe we can remove the police guard from the boy's hospital bed now; don't you think, Charlie? The hospital will let us know as soon as he is well enough to talk to us.'

'I agree sir. I'll let them know.' Charlie decided that he would go to the hospital himself. He wanted to see this young, very brave boy, even if he couldn't speak to him yet.

DS Adams was not used to having humble pie in his diet – it gave him indigestion!

We shall find peace.

We shall hear the angels,

we shall see the sky

sparkling with diamonds.

Anton Chekhov

Chapter 6
When Alfie sank into unconsciousness, he felt at peace. He could not see the horrors that confronted him anymore, nor hear the screams or smell the fear that pervaded every waking moment of his and his mother's life. Where he was now was not dark or foreboding; it was bright and fresh; full of colour. There was a wonderful smell of the countryside and this was nice, he thought. He had no concept of what was going on in the world he had just left. Alfie was oblivious to his journey to the hospital. He was totally unaware of the hustle and bustle of an A & E department. The ambulance screeching to a stop at the A & E doors; stretchers and trolleys being pushed and pulled; doctors and nurses busying themselves around him were just a blur.

Alfie had tried to block everything out of his mind that preceded the journey here and liked where he was very much; he was determined to stay there as long as he could. However, he was unable to detach himself completely from what had happened because of the hatred he felt towards his stepfather, the man who had brutally murdered his mother. One thing he was convinced of was that his nemesis, Jack, would one day get his just deserts, somehow. For now, Alfie would rest.

It was during these moments of recollection at various stages of the journey that Alfie had a sense of being transported along a corridor. There was a vague awareness of white walls, bright lights flashing by and the familiar smell of a hospital environment – he could hear muffled voices. He fought hard to shut out these sounds and images; they were reminders of where he really was and where he had come from. He longed for the place he had been in for a short time before the medics had made efforts to revive him. Each time they brought him closer to consciousness, the more vividly he relived the horror of his mother being savagely attacked. Alfie saw the crimson red fluid pouring from his mother's face, heard her screams and cried out for her. He used all of his strength to bury those images forever and vowed he would not go there again, no matter what they did. Alfie drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

The duty doctor examined Alfie and concluded that there were no life-threatening injuries. He was sure that he had indeed received a mild concussion and this was probably what initiated Alfie's current condition. If that were the case, he should have regained consciousness by now. Clearly, the boy was in a state of shock, and sleep, for the moment, was probably the best for him. He would come around and face whatever horrors awaited him soon enough.

'For the time being, let's clean him up and get him into the MRI unit, just in case there is something I can't see,' the doctor instructed the ward, nurses. 'I will let them know that he requires a full cranial. Then get him into a warm bed in a side ward and monitor him at regular intervals. He needs to be watched carefully – temperature, pulse, and BP. I will come in during the night to examine him myself. If he regains consciousness, let me know immediately and inform the police officer at the door. I am sure he will wake in the next few hours.'

The nurses busied themselves carrying out the doctor's instructions. One washed Alfie's face, gently cleaning off the dried splashes of blood. She could not help noticing how peaceful he looked, as though, despite his bruised face and cut to his mouth, he was untroubled. She was very careful not to move his head too much, given that he was to have a scan, so she wiped his forehead gently.

Some hours later, Doctor Grant returned to the ward and immediately asked for the scan results. After passing him the test pictures and the radiologist's summary, Nurse Brannigan gave him a rundown of Alfie's status.

'All of his vital signs have been virtually normal since we started monitoring him Doctor. It's as though he's in a very deep, relaxed sleep.'

The doctor stared hard at the pictures of Alfie's skull, looking for any sign that might explain the boy's condition. He could see some old bruising but nothing of any significance. He was puzzled and needed to find out more about what the circumstances were to bring him here.

It was now early morning with still no sign of Alfie regaining consciousness. Doctor Grant was due to end his spell of duty and, although extremely tired, he needed to find out more about that young man. He was about to leave when Sergeant Charlie Adams breezed into the ward, his three-quarter-length raincoat unfastened, untidily swishing behind him. The doctor saw that the large swaggering gentleman in the raincoat had approached the police officer at the boy's ward and clearly told the young officer that he could go.

'Hi, I'm Doctor Grant and I've been seeing to the young man in there,' gesturing to Alfie's side-ward as he approached Charlie. 'Can I help you? Better still, perhaps you can help me?'

Charlie Adams wasn't in the best of moods at this, for him, an ungodly hour, but he extended his hand and introduced himself. His abrasive voice matched his manner somewhat. 'I'm DS Adams and in charge of this inquiry. How's the boy?'

'He's physically in good shape, but I believe that he has been seriously traumatised. We are unsure at the moment whether he will come around of his own accord or whether we will have to give him some help. We need to know a lot more about the circumstances prior to him losing consciousness and I'm hoping you may be able to shed some light on the situation.'

Charlie gave the doctor as much information as he felt he was able to at this moment and probably a little more than he should have done. He wanted the boy to regain consciousness to find out what really happened at Rosamond Street last night. Charlie had a pretty good idea but wanted to hear it from Alfie. That meant cooperating with the hospital. 'So, Doctor,' Charlie rasped, 'as you can see, it is imperative that I speak to the boy as soon as he comes around.'

He gave the doctor a menacing look that left no doubts that he wanted to be the first to be able to talk to Alfie.

Peter Grant got the message and nervously went on to explain what he had planned for that day, despite him being at the end of his shift. 'The patient has had an MRI scan and from what I can tell there does not appear to be any injury that would explain his loss of consciousness. However, I will ask our resident neurologist to give his expert opinion. In the event that he agrees with my findings, I will request the services of our clinical psychologist, who may be able to understand what is going on with Alfie. The young man may, of course, regain consciousness without any intervention from the clinicians before then.' Doctor Grant reassured DS Adams that he would be told if that happened.

Charlie softened his manner a little and asked: 'May I go in and see the boy?'

'Yes sergeant, but try not to stay too long. A nurse is close by if you need anything. I'll say goodbye now if you don't mind. I'm quite tired after being on the ward most of the night. The nurses have instructions to monitor the young man on a regular basis and I will return when our neurologist has examined him and his scan.'

'Thank you for your help but before you go there are just a couple of things I would like you to arrange. We will need a DNA sample to complete our forensic evidence. Also, will you ensure that in the event of the boy's return to consciousness that he is not given any information about his parents? We are not sure of how much he knows and he may not be aware that they are both dead.'

'Such information could be catastrophic for him Sergeant so you can be assured we will handle that situation if it arises with great care. As for the DNA sample, I am not certain that we can obtain it without the patient's permission. I'm surprised you asked,' the doctor said rather cockily, and left.

DS Adams had already planned a way around that problem. Charlie stood next to Alfie's bed and thought about the horror of what that boy had witnessed last night and he shuddered. He looked at him; Alfie was no more than a child and no child deserved to witness such savagery. He knew he was doing wrong but needed to tie up the many loose ends that were still there. What if, for example, the unidentified DNA on the stepfather was not that of the boy? That would mean a fourth person's involvement. His thoughts gave credence to what he was about to do. Making sure that the nurse outside could not see him, he quickly slid a glass sample tube from his pocket and removed the swab from it. There was a small amount of saliva seeping from the corner of Alfie's mouth, so Charlie gently rubbed the swab and collected what he needed. He then lightly took Alfie's limp hand in his and, using another swab, rubbed it under Alfie's fingernails without disturbing him. He was relieved to note that the nurses were oblivious to what he had done as he carefully put the samples of DNA into the glass phials and back into his coat pocket. It wasn't the first time that DS Adams had bent the rules. He left Alfie's bedside and purposefully strode out of the ward without saying a word to the nurses. Charlie would now have to call in some favours to get the DNA result using his network; putting it through official channels would send the politically correct brigade into a frenzy. Over the years he had been in the force he had watched the amount of form filling. New rules grew daily to a point that left most of the coppers today with no time to do what they were paid for.

'If it weren't for the likes of me and a few others who would occasionally bend the odd rule here and there, the force would be useless. Gone were the days when PC just meant Police Constable!' Charlie thought with just a touch of sadness. Most of the time he was angry at the way the bureaucrats and the University graduate senior career officers were destroying the police force he loved so dearly. He knew the risks of doing things his way, but he was convinced that his way got the job done. To him, that was all that mattered.

Doctor Grant had now returned to Alfie's ward after having just three hours' sleep. Nevertheless, he felt rested and ready for another few hours of intense activity between A&E and the side-wards. Nurse Brannigan had updated him before she went off duty and there had been little change in Alfie's condition.

The duty neurologist was a Doctor Yanis. He was never late and turned up as expected in his brightly coloured bow tie and outrageously garish trousers.

'Obviously a very clever clinician but a bit weird,' thought Peter Grant.

The two doctors discussed Alfie and carefully examined the scan results. Doctor Yanis concurred with Peter Grant's assessment; he could not see any damage that could account for Alfie's condition.

'So what do you advise now Doctor?' Peter Grant looked to his more senior colleague for direction.

'Wake him up,' Doctor Yanis replied rather offhandedly and started to walk from the ward.

'Just a moment Doctor Yanis, I think this case is a little more complicated than that to take such a step. If he is in a self-induced coma then trying to wake him may be harmful to the patient.'

'As far as I am concerned, there is no brain damage or head injury that I need to treat. Therefore, you must use your judgement on the further care of your patient. You may wish to consider that the boy is just exhausted after what he went through last night and may just need rest. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other patients to attend to.'

Peter Grant found the nearest vending machine and extracted a strong black coffee. He thought about what Yanis had said and to a point accepted that it was possible that the boy was just exhausted and resting from the mayhem he experienced about ten or so hours ago. Peter decided to let him sleep and, in the meantime, would call on Jennifer Paige, the resident clinical psychologist before he took any action.

Jennifer was a very experienced and well thought of member of staff. She specialised in helping patients with phobias and behavioural problems. She had a particular skill in getting patients and colleagues to come to their own conclusions by just listening and occasionally focusing on a particular point for clarification, which would often be the nub of the issue.

She was quite an attractive woman, slightly built; one could say petite, with blue eyes and auburn hair. She was educated at Oxford with a doctorate in clinical psychology. For the past eight years, she had devoted most of her waking hours to her work. Her personal life experience had had more of its fair share of trauma than most. Her work was her escape from things she did not wish to remember. These memories would sometimes invade her waking hours whenever she was not fully wrapped up in her work at the hospital. Her aim was to work hard, fully immerse herself in her job and be sufficiently exhausted to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep when she got home to her bed. The dreams she did have were always the same. In fact, as a psychologist she would probably say that she was just re-enacting the past and needed to finish grieving to move on. Jenny was never very good at listening to her own advice, but she was able to justify this by convincing herself she was managing her demons; something many of her patients was unable to do. She spoke very rarely about the loss of her husband and only son after twelve years of happy marriage. In her dreams, she relived the horror of being told that Mathew and her son, Jason, were badly injured in a serious train crash on their way back from London. Apparently, points on the track had jammed allowing the train carrying Mathew and Jason to hurtle into the path of a train coming from the opposite direction. Many had died that night and still more were badly injured. Her husband and son were never to recover. And for the next year Jenny lived in absolute despair, often sinking to a point of desperation where ending her own life would have been a blessed relief. She constantly thought of her loving husband and the happiness they shared and particularly of the joy of their ten-year-old son. For that first year, she saw or spoke to very few people and her friends would often be dissuaded from contacting her.

After twelve months, a friend and work colleague finally persuaded her to get back to work, initially slowly, getting back into a routine and being able to take on one or two not too complicated cases. To begin with, Jenny found it almost impossible to concentrate on dealing with other people's problems but gradually she found there was some therapeutic value in it. She found moments when her emotional struggles were somehow pushed into the background of her thoughts. Of course, her grief was present constantly but now, at least, there were small moments of respite. So, for the next eight years Dr Jennifer Paige threw herself into her work. This, together with an enormous mental strength, gave her the will to carry on. In that time, she built up a highly regarded reputation and respect from her colleagues who admired her strength of character and unquestionable ability in her chosen field.

Peter Grant knocked quietly on Jennifer's office door before letting himself in.

'Hi, Jenny, hope I'm not disturbing you. Do you a have a few moments? I just need to discuss a patient.'

Jennifer looked up and smiled a welcoming smile. 'Of course Peter, you know I've always got time for you. How can I help?'

'I've just had a fourteen-year-old boy admitted and I'm not sure...' Peter stopped suddenly, realising that Alfie would be about the same age as her son would have been. He flushed with embarrassment. 'I'm really sorry Jenny, I know you had a boy about the same age and I realise that I may have made a mistake in coming to you with this. I am truly sorry if I've...'

Peter was struggling. He had heard gossip that Jenny had never really recovered from her loss and some members of staff would be careful of their subject matter when speaking to her. Jenny hated it when this happened. All it did was remind her rather than shield her.

'Peter, you haven't caused me a problem. I deal with fourteen-year-old boys frequently and I've learnt to separate them from my personal memories. So, please stop worrying and tell me all about him.'

The relief on Peter's face was evident. He told her as much as knew about what had happened to Alfie before he came into the hospital, the results of the MRI scan, and his discussion with the rather gruff CID sergeant. 'My main concern is following my meeting with Dr Yanis. I am, as a result, uncertain about how to proceed. I do not believe the boy is in a coma, but he is, in what appears to be a deep and restful sleep. Yanis just wants me to wake him up, but I don't agree.'

'What's your concern about bringing him around Peter?'

It was one of those specific to the point questions that Jenny was so good at asking.

Peter thought for quite a few moments. 'Intuitively, I believe this sleep that Alfie is in is not one borne out of exhaustion but out of choice. If I am right, forcibly waking him may do him serious harm. My instinct says I should let him sleep for another twenty-four hours in which time he may wake of his own accord. If he does not then... what next?'

'If he didn't wake in twenty-four hours Peter, then what options do you think you have?'

'I guess there are really only two things that I can do, I could try and wake him, which has some risks, or I could treat him as if he is in a coma. In truth, if he does not wake in twenty-four hours he should be considered comatose anyway and the appropriate actions put into place. Maintain his respiration and circulation. Provide intravenous fluids and supportive care. Make sure he is stable and monitor him etcetera, etcetera.'

'I think you've got the case pretty well covered Peter. Why don't I come along to the ward tomorrow morning and have a look at him? If he has woken up, given the nightmare, this poor boy has experienced he will need all the help he can get.'

'Thanks, Jenny, you've been a great help, you're an angel.'

Peter smiled as he left the office knowing that Jenny had made him come up with the answers to his own questions without really saying very much!

* * * * * *

Alfie felt very comfortable and rested, there was no one shaking him or pulling at him, trying to drag him back. He did not intend to go back there, whatever they tried, not that place. He wasn't lying down anymore but sitting with his back to a tree. Looking around he could see gently sloping hills covered with lush green grass and swathes of wild flowers lazily swaying in the warm, light breeze. He was aware of birds singing and could even smell the scent drifting off the flowers in the warm air. 'This is just fantastic, it's a pity Mrs Thoms or old Mr Stolman couldn't be here, they would just love it.' Then he thought: 'Why shouldn't all of the people he knew, like the Pattersons and others he had grown fond of, be in a place like this? It was peaceful, relaxing; there was no hassle, no pain and no darkness. They could be happy here.' The question suddenly made him acutely aware; he didn't know where he was! For a moment, it frightened him but then he looked about him and the feelings he experienced earlier returned. He was at peace, relaxed and safe; it did not matter a jot to Alfie where he was.

He decided to explore his newly found world. There appeared to be no restrictions, he couldn't see any fences or signs, just lots of open, welcoming land, so he set off in no particular direction. It would appear as if his wandering was aimless, yet there seemed to be a purpose in where he was heading. At no time did he hesitate or have to consider which way to go; he knew the direction if not where it would lead him. It didn't matter to him because, for as long as he could remember, it was the first time in his young life that he felt at peace.

Suddenly, in the distance, Alfie saw what he thought was a plain old-fashioned park bench. He strained his eyes against the bright sunshine that radiated his new world and could just make out what he thought was a figure sat on it. 'It can't be, no way, I'm the only one here.' Alfie was fearful that perhaps someone had been sent here to take him back. He stopped and tried to calm down. 'I'm not going back,' he shouted at the yet unidentified figure sat on the bench. He shouted again. 'You're not going to make me go back.' Although Alfie hadn't moved, the bench and the figure on it appeared to be closer to him. In fact, it was getting closer at each passing minute. Alfie turned and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Dark clouds started to shroud the bright sunshine and it was getting colder. His heart was pounding; he was running faster than he had ever run before. Beads of sweat poured down his forehead as he scampered back towards his tree; this tree represented sanctuary to him. He dared not look back until he could reach his safe place. He felt his chest getting tighter, as though there was a clamp gripping him tightly, preventing him from breathing. He started to panic, his head was pounding, every fibre of his young body strained and stretched. Suddenly he reached his haven and collapsed, exhausted, against the base of the tree. He managed to sneak a look in the direction from which he had come and to his relief could see nothing of the bench or the figure on it. He breathed a sigh of relief and could feel his racing heart start to slow down. He breathed in deeply, smelt the flowers and the warmth of the sunshine that had returned and he smiled. He could rest now.

* * * * * *

Twenty-four hours had passed and Peter Grant was prepared to try and wake Alfie. He had no idea that the actions he was about to embark upon would have such an impact on his patient. Nor could he possibly know that Alfie was very comfortable and safe where he was. He summoned the lead nurse, Amy Brannigan, and explained what he was going to do. 'We will start by treating him as a sleeping patient and try to wake him normally. Nurse, I want 50 milligrams of Propofol ready to administer. I have a strange feeling this is not going to be straightforward, there may be a need to sedate him, so let's be ready just in case.' Dr Grant knew that the sleep his patient was in was not a natural one, not after this amount of time. The problem he saw was that the boy looked peaceful, relaxed and happy in his sleep-like state, which was shielding him from the reality from which he had escaped. The boy looked too comfortable where he was for it to be simply asleep from exhaustion. Bringing Alfie back to face the horrors he had endured may not feel right, but sooner or later Alfie would have to deal with the issues that had brought him here. He could only do that if he were fully conscious.

'Nurse, keep an eye on the boy's vital signs.' Dr Grant proceeded to raise Alfie's eyelids one at a time. The small beam of light from his torch danced around Alfie's eyes looking for signs that might indicate the boy's state. Peter also hoped that the slight disturbance might be enough to arouse Alfie back to consciousness.

'There's a slight rise to his heart rate Doctor and it's continuing to climb,' Nurse Brannigan reported.

The doctor removed the torchlight and started to shake Alfie by the shoulders, at first gently then with a little more vigour. Alfie was not waking up. He was fighting it now, his fists clenched, heart racing, and his head turning from one side to the other as if he was being chased. This was accompanied by considerable rapid eye movement. The boy was in turmoil.

'Doctor, his heart rate is increasing rapidly, his blood pressure is escalating, and it's now 170.'

Amy Brannigan's voice could not disguise a degree of panic.

Peter Grant could see that Alfie was going into shock. He would have to do something quickly or the boy could suffer a cardiac arrest. 'Nurse, 25 milligrams of Propofol,' Peter Grant maintained a calm exterior but knew he had to calm Alfie down; inwardly he was not so calm.

The nurse passed him the syringe and he proceeded to find an appropriate vein into which he could inject the sedative. Alfie was still thrashing about as though in extreme fear of something terrible happening to him. 'Nurse, you are going to have to keep him still until I get this sedative into him. Please hold him firmly but as gently as you possibly can.' The fast-acting sedative was successfully delivered and there was an almost immediate effect. Alfie's heart rate and blood pressure started to recede to normal levels. He was calming down and the thrashing about had stopped, but his forehead and hair were wet with sweat.

'Amy, please see to it that he is cleaned up but under no circumstances must he be moved excessively. He clearly does not wish to be woken up; not yet anyway. We need to get him on to a drip to make sure he has sufficient fluids and nourishment. His vital signs are stable, so we don't have to do anything about his respiration. Just make sure he is comfortable and monitor him every twenty minutes. I would like to know of any changes immediately.' Peter headed for the coffee machine and almost collided with Jennifer Paige, who was just about to enter Alfie's ward.

'Hello Peter, how did it go?' asked Jenny

Peter suggested they go for coffee together and he explained what had happened on the way. They took a seat in the rest area; Jenny sat and listened intently.

'Jenny, I think I understand that what he experienced with the horrific events that brought him here is the source of his reluctance to wake. He seems so peaceful and relaxed when we don't try to wake him. It's as though he's in some sort of Shangri-La.'

'He probably is Peter. When someone is faced with extreme horror or grief, the mind has different ways of coping with it. Perhaps the solution to his problems will be found in this new place. I am sure that when he is strong enough he will decide to either return to the real world and face his demons or seek the answers he needs in this other reality.'

'So what do we do now then, just wait? Peter didn't expect an answer; he had answered it himself.

'Do you mind if I go in and sit with the boy for a while Peter? I just want to let him know that I'm there to help him, even though he may not realise it just yet'. Jenny knew that the very act of sitting aside the bed of this young boy would remind her painfully of the last time she saw her son alive, albeit barely. She had already challenged her motives and concluded that perhaps this was an opportunity for closure. If she could be instrumental in bringing Alfie back into the real world and help him to deal with the horrors of that reality then perhaps she could face her own reality. Irrespective of any intervention from the medical team, Alfie could not stay in this coma-like state indefinitely, no matter how comfortable he felt. There would inevitably be serious muscle wastage and then an inexorable decline into a full coma and vegetative state. The effects of this decline would start to impact on the alternative reality he had created, which would no longer be the place of refuge that he currently enjoys.

Peter was glad of Jennifer's involvement and did not hesitate.

'Of course you can Jenny. Just let Nurse Brannigan know and she will fill you in on his current state. I need to get some sleep so I'm going to the restroom for an hour or two, I'll catch up with you later.'

The future belongs to those who believe

In the beauty of their dreams

Eleanor Roosevelt (1884-1962)

Chapter 7

Dr Jenny Paige walked gingerly into Alfie's side-ward. She stifled a gasp, cupping her hand over her mouth. Although Alfie was a little older than her son would have been, she saw great similarities between them. That unsettled her enormously. 'How could they be so alike?' She thought. The last time she saw Jason he was in a hospital bed just like Alfie - wired up with drip feeds and other paraphernalia keeping him alive but in Jason's case, all to no avail. At least Alfie had no life-threatening injuries. His emotional scars would heal in time she was sure. Jenny needed to separate her own emotions and focus on the now, not the past. Alfie was now settled in, he had been washed and had had his hair gently brushed. He looked completely at peace. Jenny tentatively approached his bed and quietly slipped into the armchair beside it. She spent some time reading his medical notes and studied the various readings on the monitors surrounding his bed. All was quiet and, for now, normal.

Nurse Brannigan stood in the doorway and waited for Doctor Paige to look up from Alfie's notes. Jenny eventually looked up and beckoned Amy to come in.

'Just want to check on his drip and settle him down for the night. Hope I'm not disturbing you.'

'Not at all Nurse it's me who may be getting in your way,' replied Jenny apologetically.

Amy Brannigan had been the senior nurse in charge ever since Alfie was admitted and was becoming particularly close to him. The description of the trauma the boy had endured horrified her.

Jenny Paige noted the look on the nurse's face as she tended Alfie; there was a warmth and gentleness in her eyes.

'You've looked after Alfie ever since his admission, is that right?'

'Yes, I have, Doctor.'

'Please, call me Jenny; I believe you are Amy.' Jenny extended her hand to the nurse. 'As I am going to be trying to help Alfie I will be around here quite a lot. So if you don't mind I would be more relaxed if we were a bit less formal, is that ok Amy?'

Amy shook the doctor's hand and smiled. 'That will be fine with me. I'm so glad that you are here, Alfie needs someone who is going to be capable of helping him through this. I'm delighted it is you, Jenny.'

'I'm going to sit with him for a little while Amy. Will you please dim the lights in here, just a little?' As the ward lights dimmed, Jenny gently took Alfie's hand in hers and felt tears surge up inside her. She fought them back furiously, reminding herself that this was a young boy she did not know; he was not the son she had lost. Jenny knew she needed to focus on Alfie as Alfie. She closed her eyes and slowly banished all thoughts that would impede her helping this young man through his nightmare. For a split second, she could have sworn she felt a slight pressure on her hand coming from Alfie's, but then dismissed it as her imagination playing tricks. Jenny didn't realise it, but she had sat with Alfie and held his hand for two hours. Every inch of his young face was studied; occasionally she would brush his blonde hair away from his eyes and gently stroke his forehead. She was exhausted and needed to go home and get some sleep. She gently extracted her hand from his and was certain she could sense a reflex, an ever so slight firming of his hand in hers. Once again, Jenny rejected this as being down to her imagination and tiredness.

Jenny arrived home and didn't waste any time. A quick snack of warm asparagus soup left over from the previous evening, and a little crusty bread, a hot shower and then gratefully slipped between her welcoming bed sheets. In no time at all she was asleep.

* * * * * *

For the first time, her recurring dream, a dream she dreaded, did not invade her sleep. This time, she found herself in what appeared to be a wonderland. It was peaceful; no, tranquil would be more apt she thought. She couldn't understand where the tranquillity came from, it was just there; in the air she breathed. The air was warm and fresh. Beautiful wild flowers gently swayed in the light breeze. For as far as the eye could see, the mass of colour spread out before her like a giant painting from one of the masters. The scene was so calming and gentle. The smells intoxicated her and she just wanted to lie down on the soft grass and absorb every morsel of this wondrous place. She lay there and listened to the different bird songs, which further enhanced the beauty of it all. It was wonderful and Jenny, for the first time in many years, experienced true inner peace and cried. Her tears were tears of joy.

* * * * * *

She awoke the next morning two hours later than she would normally do. Before she could become fully awake, she realised that the pillow was wet and that she had actually been crying in her sleep. She remembered her dream vividly and lay in her bed reliving the fantastic feelings of contentment she experienced. Then it suddenly dawned on her that she had slept way past her normal time and was late for work. 'Oh my god,' she thought 'what on earth am I doing?' She jumped out of bed and dashed about getting dressed while at the same time eating some wholemeal toast that she had popped into the toaster as she hurried to the bathroom. But, despite all of the panic, strangely, she felt relaxed and energised. Jenny was actually looking forward to the day.

Doctor Peter Grant was puzzled and a little concerned that he had not seen Jennifer Paige this morning; she was normally a very early starter.

'Good morning Nurse.' Amy Brannigan had just arrived on the ward. 'Have you seen Doctor Paige this morning?'

'Morning Doctor, no not yet but she was here with Alfie for quite some time last night. She was still here when I left after my shift finished.'

Charlie Adams swished his way into the ward and headed straight for Peter Grant.

'Has the boy come around yet Doc?'

Peter recognised the gruff and gritty voice of DS Adams before he even had a chance to turn around.

'No he hasn't Sergeant and I think it may be some time yet before he does.'

'Why, what's the problem?' DS Adams asked.

'We tried to bring him around yesterday evening, but my actions almost triggered a cardiac arrest. We are certain that wherever he is at this moment, he does not wish to return, certainly not yet. We now intend to be a bit more cautious and there is hope that he will wake up of his own volition. For the moment, we are keeping him stable and comfortable and we have our resident clinical psychologist evaluating the situation. She will be helping Alfie when he does eventually return to us. Do you have any further interest in him because I would prefer that he is disturbed as little as possible?'

Charlie Adams stroked the two-day-old stubble on his chin and hesitated for a second, evaluating whether he should tell the doctor what he knew. He decided that he would tell him even though there was a risk that the doctor might be curious as to how he was able to obtain the DNA. He decided against caution. 'We are now certain that no-one else was involved and it was the boy's DNA that was found on his stepfather's body. This means that that young man,' Adams nodded towards Alfie's room, 'put up one hell of a fight we believe, in trying to save his mother. I would appreciate it if you would inform me as soon he is able to speak to one of my officers or me. We need to get the only eyewitness account there is to establish what happened.'

'I'm not going to ask how my patient's DNA was obtained Sergeant. I think the information you have gleaned, albeit possibly illegally, will be invaluable to us in understanding how we can help Alfie through this. And yes, I will inform you as soon as Alfie is well enough to talk to you.' Peter Grant was on the moral high ground and he knew it.

Charlie Adams reddened slightly but was relieved he wasn't going to be taken to task on the DNA issue. 'Thanks, Doc, all I wanted to do was make sure no-one else was involved, I'll let you get on with your important work. Goodbye.' He swaggered off the ward in his trademark fashion, although rather more hurriedly than usual; his hands deep in his trouser pockets with the tail of his creased topcoat flapping behind him.

As he watched the departing detective, Peter thought: 'Despite his rough exterior, I believe he really does care about what he does.'

DS Adams almost collided with Jennifer as she hurried into the ward.

'Who was that, he almost ran me down?' she said with a smile on her face as she approached Peter.

'Let's get a cup of coffee and I'll tell you all about Detective Sergeant Adams. Where have you been anyway, you have a very unusual glow about you?' Peter gave Jenny a quick rundown on DS Adams. He was curious to know why Jenny was so radiant and her eyes were smiling, not lifeless and tired as they usually were. He, of course, understood how much she had suffered, and still did, but today there was something different about her.'Ok, come on, are you going to tell me or do I have to interrogate you?'

'What are you talking about Peter?' Jenny feigned surprise.

'Come on, you know what. You breezed in here very late, something you never do, your face is an absolute picture, and I've never seen you like this.'

Jenny felt she could confide in Peter but not completely... just yet. 'For the first time in many years, Peter, I have had the most restful night's sleep that I can remember and I didn't have my usual horrid dream. And I don't know why but I don't care, I feel absolutely wonderful.'

'I'm really glad for you Jenny; it's obviously done you the power of good.' Peter was prepared to leave it at that for the moment.

'How was Alfie last night?' Jenny asked.

'He had a very peaceful night, but I'm really concerned about him, though. He seems to be so peaceful, so contented. It's as though he has built himself a world where he can't get hurt anymore and I'm not sure about whether we will ever get him back. The shock of forcing him back into this reality could be fatal for him.'

Jenny knew that if the place Alfie was in were anything like the one she had experienced last night, Peter's concerns could be a very realistic assessment. It wasn't just the place, the flowers, the surroundings, the smells; it was something else that she couldn't quite put her finger on. 'You may be right Peter, let's hope that we have a better outcome than that. I believe Alfie may have to confront the demons he is hiding from and he may have to do it in the world he has created. We just have to be here for him if or when that happens. I have a patient to see at 10.30 so must dash, I'll call in this evening, I would like to spend some more time with him.'

'Yes I must get on too, see you later, and have a lovely day; you look like you're ready for it.'

Jenny smiled warmly and headed off to her consulting rooms. She was indeed ready for it.

* * * * * *

Alfie had rested at the base of what he now called his tree. He was safe and at peace. He closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths of the warm, fresh air. Suddenly, to his horror, he saw the bench in the distance. His heart started to race and then he realised that it was not coming towards him like the last time and there was something different about the figure on it. It did not appear to be threatening on this occasion. He had a strange feeling that he needed to go towards it and see who it was - what it was. It was as if the figure on the bench was beckoning him to approach. He set out towards the bench, tentatively at first, and then with purpose. The closer he got, the more he realised he was not in danger. There was no fear now... just curiosity.

'Come and sit with me Alfie,' the voice from the bench beckoned.

It was an old man with smartly groomed white hair, not shabbily dressed but casual, as though ready for a morning stroll. He sat slightly forward, leaning on a stout walking stick. A tweed flat cap was folded in his pocket. Alfie was stunned that he should know his name.

He stammered: 'How do you know who I am sir? I have never been here before or met you before now.'

'Well Alfie, if you sit with me a while I will explain how I know you and perhaps afterwards you may like to accompany me on a walk along the riverbank.'

The man had a disarming smile; the wrinkles around his eyes said he smiled a lot; his face was warm and welcoming and Alfie felt completely at ease.

Alfie sat on the bench. There was a long silence before the old man spoke.

'There are lots of questions you need answers to young man, many of those answers are already within you. I am here to help you get started on your search for the keys that will unlock some doors that are presently firmly closed to you.'

'But where am I and who are you?' Alfie pleaded.

'Ah,' said the old man, 'they are two questions that I can answer, but come with me and let us enjoy this wonderful day.' The old man got up and immediately started out towards the river.

Alfie was frustrated but quickly followed the old man and walked alongside him. He persisted with his questions as they walked. 'What is this place? I've never seen anything like it before and I never want to leave.'

'All in good time my boy, all in good time.'

They eventually reached a spot by the river where a wooden bench, very similar to the one they had previously sat on, was positioned invitingly overlooking the gently flowing water. They sat down together and listened to the water babbling along its predestined route, a route the river itself had helped forge. Alfie thought deeply about this and wondered how much he could help to forge the path of his own life, or was it already decided.

Alfie caught a glimpse of the old man smiling and he was still engrossed by what the water was doing. 'He knows what I am thinking, I'm sure,' Alfie thought to himself.

'So Alfie,' the old man started, 'first of all, I'm The Keeper of this place and it's my job to make sure any visitors that come here are looked after. More importantly, that they are well prepared to return to the world they came from. While you are here, I hope I can help you, guide you and assist you to take whatever journey you eventually decide to take.'

'What do you mean return to the world they came from? I don't want to go back there. And what do you mean by "visitors"? I haven't seen anyone else since I came here!' Alfie's head was buzzing with questions and fears. There were a few moments of silence while Alfie gathered his thoughts. 'What shall I call you?' Alfie asked.

'Everyone calls me Mr K, eventually.

'Mr K, do many visitors go back to where they came from?'

'Most do,' he replied.

'What happens to those who decide to stay?'

'The simple answer to that question young man is that they cannot stay here, they move on to another place and are never able to return here or from where they came.' There was sadness in Mr K's eyes, for he knew exactly what that meant. 'Most important thing for you to remember Alfie, those that make that decision never answer the question of why they came here. What about your questions Alfie? Don't you want answers? Do you not want to see Mrs Thoms again, the Pattersons, or old Mr Stolman? And what about your mother? If you go back, are there not things that you want to put right?'

'No!' Alfie shouted, 'I will not go back, I want to stay here.' He got up and ran off. He didn't know where he was going, but he just ran and ran. His pulse started to pound and his heart was racing, but he didn't care. He wanted to get away from anyone who even suggested he should return. He stopped after a short while and looked back; there was no sign of The Keeper. Then he realised he was back at the place he started from - his tree. He sat and rested.

'It's no use running off like a scared rabbit, Alfie; I can go anywhere I like here in a blink of an eye.'

Alfie, startled, spun around, immediately recognising the voice of The Keeper. There he was sat on his bench in his familiar pose, leaning forward on his walking staff. He wasn't even looking in Alfie's direction but gazing out across the lush meadow.

'It is definitely beautiful here is it not Alfie? It was deliberately designed to be so. Could there be a better place for someone to decide his or her future? For some, it is sufficient for them to do just that quite quickly. For you Alfie, I know this is going to be much harder, but I believe you will prevail. I am going to help you as much as I can because it will not always be like this here for you. There will be challenges and some will be greater than anything you have previously experienced. But there will be help for you. Those that can help will make themselves known to you shortly and if you need me just speak my name. Seek out the white gate and if you decide to enter, it will test you to your limits. Successfully confront what you will face there and you will be rewarded, I promise. If you choose not to go through the gate, then your time here will be very limited and the decision will rest with you whether you go back or leave this world forever. Rest my boy, for now; you will need all of the strength you can gather.'

Alfie turned away for a split second and then realised The Keeper and his bench had gone. He thought hard about what The Keeper had said and it raised many questions that he had not considered. His only concern, up until now, was to stay in this place where he felt protected and safe. More importantly, he no longer felt threatened and full of fear and foreboding. But given what he had now been told, he knew that, sooner rather than later, he would have to confront those fears to banish them completely from his life. The questions he struggled with were: 'Do I do what I have to do here or back in my other world? And what is it that I am running way from? What would happen to Mrs Thoms, and the Pattersons and Mr Stolman if I decide to stay here? Please Mr K; I need to talk to you.' Alfie gazed expectantly across the meadow and waited.

'Do you really need me to answer those questions for you, Alfie?'

The Keeper was once again sat on his bench gazing out over the flowered meadow. 'Because they are questions only you have the answers to.'

Alfie had to turn full circle to see where the old man was but was not startled this time. He walked over to the bench and sat with Mr K. He did exactly what The Keeper was doing and just let his eyes wander over the verdant panorama in front of him. Alfie spoke first. 'I know I must answer these questions myself Mr K, but I don't know where to start.'

'As long as I know that you are looking for those answers and you decide you want to meet your challenges here, then I will give you as much time as you need Alfie. Help will appear soon, but you must remember that your time here cannot be infinite.'

Alfie suddenly found himself sat at the foot of the tree again and the bench. The Keeper had disappeared

* * * * * *

Dr Grant decided to do his final look-in on Alfie before he left for the night. 'How's he been today Nurse?' Peter casually asked Nurse Brannigan as he poked his head inside the door to Alfie's room.

'Ah, I'm glad you called in Doctor; I was going to call you earlier when he started to go into panic mode again. He started to sweat and his blood pressure was rising rapidly but before I did get to call you, he settled down and has been calm ever since.'

Peter Grant walked over to Alfie's bed and studied all of his charts, put his hand gently on the pulse in Alfie's neck. He concluded that there was little change in his general state, despite what might have happened earlier. 'His status is slightly raised, but it seems to be steady, so just keep an eye on his vital signs, he seems settled for the moment. Thanks, Nurse, I'll not come in again now until the morning. I believe Doctor Paige will call in this evening. If you need me, then you know where I can be contacted. Goodnight.'

It was about an hour later that Jennifer Paige breezed onto the ward. Despite a long and very busy day, she still felt quite energised, which was extremely unusual. By this time of the day, she would normally be flagging and just wanting to get home. She was puzzled by the sudden change in her energy level. 'Surely not the result of just one night's decent sleep,' she thought. Then she recalled the dream; it was so restful and made her feel a warm glow inside just thinking about it. 'Maybe I can recreate it again tonight,' she mused. Jenny chastised herself. 'First things first, I must go and spend some time with Alfie.'

Amy Brannigan was just leaving the ward as Jenny appeared. They chatted for a while, mainly about Alfie, and then said goodbye.

Jenny quietly entered Alfie's ward and sat by his side in the armchair. Once again, she took his hand in hers and gently swept his blond hair away from his eyes. This time, she was quite certain there was a firming of Alfie's hand in hers. It wasn't imagination, it was quite distinct, as though he had recognised her and was saying hello. She was hoping he might wake up, but she could see he was still in his deep sleep. It was several hours before Jenny decided she should go home and get some rest, even though the last couple of hours had not at all been arduous. She gently let go of Alfie's hand and quietly slipped out of the room. On her way home she suddenly realised there had been no gentle squeeze of her hand... no goodbye. Perhaps it had indeed been her imagination. It wasn't long before she decided to go to her bed and was soon asleep.

* * * * * *

Jennifer waded through the swathes of wild flowers and was intoxicated by their perfume. She could see a river in the distance that looked like it had been painted into the scene before her. She danced her way happily towards it and eventually sat down on the edge of the water, listening to the gentle lapping of it as it flowed onwards, to where, she did not know. At this moment she was unconcerned about the how's, whys or wherefores of anything; she was happy just being in this wonderful place.

A voice suddenly broke the peaceful silence she was enjoying. Strangely, it didn't frighten or startle her; it was a gentle, reassuring voice. 'Hello Jenny, it's good to see you.'

Jenny turned towards the direction of the greeting and saw an old gentleman with a smiling face sat on a slatted wooden bench.

'Hello,' she replied, not at all perplexed by his sudden appearance. 'How do you know my name, and who are you, and what are you doing here?'

'I can understand that you have many questions Jennifer and I promise I will answer them all. Firstly, I am The Keeper of this place and you can call me Mr K. I am here to help you help Alfie, who is also here.'

'Did you create this place?' Jenny asked.

'Well, let's just say I had a little help.'

'If you can create a place like this, then surely you have the power to help Alfie yourself. Why do you think I should help him?'

'Are you not already helping Alfie in his real world Jennifer? If he is to return to it and have a normal life, he will need someone physical and substantial there with him. Once he leaves here, I will no longer be accessible to him.'

'Why would he want to leave this wonderful place, it's idyllic and peaceful and so, so safe.' She stretched out her arms as if to capture the essence of the place.

'Alfie has already been told that his stay here is temporary, he must find the answers he seeks either here or back in his real world. If he chooses to stay, this place will gradually disintegrate and he will never return to his real world.'

'Do you mean he will die?'

'In his real world yes, but here; he will move on, as all those who make that choice do. As to what he will move on to, I cannot say, but he may spend an eternity seeking the very answer he came here for. You, I know, are also seeking an answer Jennifer and in helping Alfie you may well find it.'

Jenny knew exactly what Mr K meant; she needed to know the answer to the question, why? Why did she lose her family, why her, why them? She could never understand why, in the great scheme of things, she should be singled out. She concluded that Alfie must also be trying to answer the same big question – why?

* * * * * *

Jennifer awoke the next morning, once again rested and relaxed but now more certain about why she had been transported into Alfie's dream world and what her role was. She would probably be carted off to the funny farm if she told anyone that she had met a Mr K, who was the creator of the wonderful place Alfie was now living in. But, she questioned: 'Could it be possible that we could be part of someone else's dream?' As a psychologist, she knew of the power of the mind but this was on a different level completely. One thing was certain; it seemed real enough and she had not felt so good, not for many years. For the first time in a long while, she was confident that her own nightmare was coming to an end.
Everything you can imagine is real

Pablo Picasso (1881 – 1973)

 Chapter 8
John Southill felt partly responsible for young Alfie Madden's situation. If he had acted sooner then, perhaps his parents would still be alive and Alfie would not be lying in the hospital. Ever since that day when the rather gruff Detective Sergeant informed him of what had happened, John had agonised and beat himself up for not seeing the signs earlier and being more decisive. He also knew that Mrs Thoms was also blaming herself for what happened after she visited the Madden's home. He felt so sorry for her and vowed to visit her again soon. His priority now, however, was to go and see Alfie. It was mid-afternoon when John navigated his way through the hospital corridors and towards the unit where Alfie was being cared for. He spotted the reception desk and the nurse behind the semi-circular walnut partition. 'Is it possible for me to see Alfie Madden please?' he asked.

The nurse looked up with a pleasant smile and asked: 'Are you a member of his family?'

'Well no, not exactly,' replied John. 'But I am the Headmaster of his school and as far as I know he doesn't have any family,' John said rather hesitantly.

'Well I'm sorry sir, but only relatives are allowed at this stage. The patient is still in a very critical condition and is not well enough to receive non-family members.'

John started to get mildly annoyed. 'I've just told you that I don't believe he has any family and I was very aware, and you might say closely involved, with the terrible events that brought him here. I think I should be allowed in to see him.'

Peter Grant approached.

'What's the problem Nurse?'

'This gentleman wants to see Alfie Madden and I've told him that he can't unless he is a family member.'

John interrupted: 'Look, I know Alfie does not have any family now and I know what happened to them. As his school head, I have a responsibility towards him, his fellow pupils and the people who he befriended in the neighbourhood. They will all want to know how he is and what they can do to help. Without family, he is alone and I can't allow that to be.'

John hoped his argument was persuasive.

'I'm Alfie's doctor, Peter Grant.'

Peter held out his hand.

'And you are?'

'John Southill, Headmaster Wensford Secondary.'

They shook hands and Peter invited John to have a coffee with him in the visitors' room.

'Mr Southill, I must advise you that the prognosis for Alfie is not good. He appears to be in a self-induced coma, we believe brought on by the events of four nights ago. We could bring him out of it, but he is determined that he does not want to return from wherever he is in his subconscious. The attempt we have made had an extremely bad effect on his vital life signs. The danger we see is that he will fall into a vegetative state and eventually be irrecoverable.'

John was clearly horrified by what he had been told.

'Do you mean he might never come around and then die? Is there anything that can be done?' he asked.

'That would be the worst-case scenario Mr Southill, but there is a possibility that he will wake up of his own accord and at a time of his choosing. The clinical psychologist we have working with him believes he may well find the strength to face up to what has happened to him and his parents while he is in this dream state. I really don't understand what she means by that and I tend to leave the mind things to the mind doctors. In the meantime, we are keeping him comfortable and stable, he is being fed intravenously and his vital signs are monitored on a regular basis. As to what else can be done, I think there is little else, but I will speak to Doctor Paige and ask the question of her.'

John explained the situation of his involvement prior to the tragedy and could not hide how it had torn him apart for not being stronger for Alfie when he obviously needed his support. He also described how Alfie had befriended many people, especially the elderly, in the local area and how important he had become to them. 'Is it possible for me to see him for a few moments?'

'Yes, Mr Southill. In the circumstances, I will allow it. I must remind you of his condition and if he does wake up while you are with him, you must not tell him about his parents, even if he asks you. We are not sure how much he knows and would need to manage the details of what happened to them carefully. This is also a request from the police. I will let Nurse Brannigan, the lead nurse; know that you are an allowable visitor.'

'Thank you, Doctor, I'm very grateful. Just one other thing; would it be possible for Mrs Thoms, who was very close to Alfie, to come with me the next time I visit. She is probably the nearest thing he has to family now?'

'I believe having some familiar and caring people around him may be of benefit to him. So yes, but keep the visits short and please allow the nursing staff to do their job.'

John Southill and the doctor walked back from the restroom towards Alfie's ward. Peter Grant spoke to Nurse Brannigan, introducing John Southill.

'Mr Southill will be visiting Alfie and will be bringing with him a Mrs Thoms.'

Doctor Grant said goodbye and left John Southill with Nurse Brannigan, who ushered him towards Alfie's side-ward.

John hesitated for a moment at the entrance and then almost crept on tiptoes towards Alfie's bed.

Nurse Brannigan smiled and said in a normal tone voice: 'You don't have to creep around Mr Southill; I don't think you'll wake him. And anyway, we are hoping that everyday sounds may do just that. We are just avoiding any further attempts to forcibly bring him back.'

The nurse left and John sat in the chair next to Alfie's bed. Despite his macho image, his square-set jaw and broad shoulders, tears welled up in John's eyes. He thought: 'This boy has endured so much and I could have prevented the worst of it.' John sat for a while just looking at Alfie's face; he looked so peaceful. He leaned towards Alfie and quietly whispered: 'I'm so, so sorry Alfie. I hope that if you come out of this nightmare that you will forgive me.' John discreetly wiped his eyes and gently took Alfie's hand in his. 'I am going to leave now, but I will come back soon and hope to bring Mrs Thoms with me.' As John slowly withdrew his hand from Alfie's, he was almost certain he felt a slight pressure, almost a reluctance to let go. But then he concluded that perhaps it was just wishful thinking on his part.

The past few hours had been emotionally draining for John and as he drove home through the quiet streets and avenues of Wensford, he could not get Alfie out of his head. He decided he would go for a long run this evening in the hope that the exertion would clear his mind.

John normally slept quite well and very rarely dreamt, but tonight was very different.

* * * * * *

The first thing that John noticed was the amazing freshness in the air, it had a zing to it and made you want to breathe as deeply as you could. When he looked around, he was dumbstruck by the beauty of the place.

'Yes it is very beautiful isn't it?'

The voice from behind broke the silence.

John spun around to see an old man sat on a wooden bench, which was not there earlier.

'Who on earth are you and where the hell did you come from?'

'Questions, questions, everyone asks me questions. Firstly, I'm not on earth and I'm certainly not from hell,' The old man said with a humorous glint in his eye. 'I'm The Keeper of this place and everybody who comes here calls me Mr K; that's keeper for short you might have gathered.'

'Yes I did guess that might be the case,' John said sharply. 'But why am I here talking to you and what exactly is this place?'

'Ah, now there are two very good questions John.'

'And you know my name; this is becoming a little too creepy.'

John could not conceal his discomfort.

'Let's go for a walk by the river, John, and I will tell you all you need to know. I can assure you I mean you no harm.'

John felt reassured and was warming to the old man; he had a look about him that he was now beginning to see. It was warm and kind and it sort of smiled at you without actually smiling.

'River? What river? All I can see for miles are meadows, wildflowers and trees.'

The old man walked on, slightly stooped with his walking stick slung over his shoulder like an imaginary rifle.

John followed and quickly caught up. He became totally bemused when suddenly a river appeared in front of him and conveniently sighted on the edge of the riverbank was a very similar wooden bench. Despite his bewilderment, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer beauty of it all. He had now decided to accept what he was seeing without trying to explain it.

Mr K sat down and gazed into the gently babbling waters. John sat next to him. Both men sat quietly for some time and just enjoyed the peaceful restfulness of the water flowing by. 'So John, you would like to know why you are here.' Mr K spoke softly. 'You are here because you want to help Alfie and Alfie needs you. He is here because he needs to detach himself from his real world and make a choice. He will shortly need to make one of the several decisions open to him. One choice he has will make your presence irrelevant, the other two choices will require your support and that of another person, whom you shall meet very soon.' Mr K gave John a similar explanation that he had given to Jenny and John listened intently.

'But what can I do? How can I help him here? I don't even know where I am,' John said despairingly.

'You are where your heart is, John, and you will know what to do when the time comes.'

John got up and walked towards a beautifully deep red rose shrub; the perfume from it was heavenly. He bent down to take in its wondrous aroma and turned towards Mr K. 'Do you think Alfie will....'. He stopped halfway through his question when he realised the old man had disappeared, along with the bench. He reminded himself that it was pointless trying to rationalise what was going on here. He decided to have a quiet walk about but after a short time he felt the urge to just sit and relax.

* * * * * *

John awoke the next morning, stretched, yawned, and marvelled at the events in his dream - the place, the flowers, the river and that beautiful rose. He recalled everything about it, even down to the rather puzzling meeting with Mr K. Then the horror dawned of what his bedside table clock was telling him. He was notorious for his punctuality and here he was an hour late getting out of bed. 'Oh my God,' he thought, 'I am going to be late.' His usual and meticulous routine was in tatters. 'If I hurry I can just make assembly.' He skipped breakfast, got dressed rather hurriedly and, for him, rather untidily and then drove to his school.He dashed into his office, brushing past Maureen, his secretary, with a very sharp but embarrassed: 'Morning Mo.'

She looked on aghast; this was the man whom she had never, ever seen come into the office in such a state and certainly never later than when she got in. She smiled impishly putting two and two together to make five and she thought: 'At last, some lucky lady has pinned him down.'

John spoke into the intercom.

'Maureen, as soon as I have finished assembly, I would appreciate no interruptions until midday. Then I will be going out to visit Mrs Thoms and then on to see young Madden in the hospital. I will brief everyone tomorrow on his condition. Thank you.' He didn't wait for a response and clicked the machine off.

After assembly, John quickly got back to his office and closed the door behind him. He needed time to think. His normal morning of ploughing through his in-tray and trying to make sense of multiple edicts from OFSTED was put aside. This morning he needed to spend time to understand his experience of last night. There were many questions; how would he return to that strange place; would he see Alfie; would Mr K be in attendance. Who was this other person who would help and what if he didn't want to go back there anyway? Then the thought crossed his mind. 'It was a dream and dreams can be strange, so why would I think of it as some sort of reality? I'm an intelligent, well-educated man for God's sake and what happened last night was a one-off dream. A strange and very realistic one but still only a dream. So, get a grip on yourself, man.' John decided to wade through the unintelligible and often irrelevant OFSTED papers but after an hour of intense concentration, he gave up and remembered the beautiful smell of the rose he encountered last night. He asked himself: 'Why can I still smell that gorgeous flower? Is it possible that a smell can remain long after a dream? I can't remember ever smelling anything in a dream before. Even now, when I visualise the shrub on the riverbank, I get that intense perfume without even trying. It's as though it's right here in the room with me.' It was that rose and its aroma that convinced John. He was now certain that what he experienced last night was not just a simple dream; it had a purpose and he had a role to play in it. He went into the small washroom adjacent to his office and smartened himself up a bit. He felt reinvigorated and breezed past Maureen's desk with a chirpy: 'Bye Maureen, see you in the morning.'

She was now convinced beyond all doubt that her Headmaster had finally found someone that would drag him out of his 24/7 work ethic. There was a definite glint in his eye and she was pleased. 'Bye sir, have a good time,' Maureen said with a wry smile.

Her parting comment escaped John; he had other things on his mind. He would first of all go and see Mrs Thoms.

Peggy Thoms heard the knock on the door and peeked through her bay-window curtains to see who it might be. She was so pleased to see Mr Southill and dashed to the front door as quickly as her little legs could carry her. 'Hello Mr Southill, I'm so pleased you called, do come in. Can I get you a cup of tea? How is Alfie?'

'Yes Mrs Thoms I would love a cup of your tea, thank you and I will tell you all that I know when I've taken my coat off,' John replied with a smile. He couldn't avoid noticing how frail she looked. She appeared tired and in need of a good night's sleep. He guessed she had worried herself sick over Alfie and particularly that she might be the cause of events following her visit to his home.

'I'm so sorry; I haven't given you a chance have I? How bad mannered of me.' She hurried off to her tiny kitchen and quickly made some tea, then carefully placed the tray on the table in front of John, who by now had removed his coat and sat down. 'So, how is Alfie? Have you seen him? Is he ok?' She rattled off the questions like a machine gun.

He was in no particular hurry so spent time telling her about his visit to Alfie in the hospital. He assured her that he was being looked after and that the doctors were confident that he would eventually come around. John mentioned nothing of his encounter with Mr K.

'I'm really pleased Mr Southill that Alfie is being properly cared for. It has been very difficult here since that night. You see, many of the people around here, especially the older ones, have become very dependent on Alfie. He's been so good to them, helping in their gardens, running errands and getting their shopping. Some of them have really missed him. Frank Stolman across the road is now very ill, the Pattersons, who will not entertain social services help, are really struggling. There are others but thankfully, most of them have help from family and friends. Joe and Helen Patterson and Frank Stolman have had to rely on me and I've tried really hard to fill in for Alfie.' Peggy started to weep. 'I just can't do it anymore, I'm so tired and I don't know what to do.' She wiped away a tear and said: 'I'm sorry Mr Southill for getting upset, but we shouldn't be reliant on that young man. It's not fair to him, especially given what he has been through.'

'Mrs Thoms, you really have nothing to recriminate yourself over. Alfie found comfort doing what he did here and he was happy. It took him away from the horrors of his family life at least for a short time each day.'

An idea sprang into John's mind. 'Try not to worry Mrs Thoms; I am going to get you and your friends some help, even if I have to do the chores myself. You'll also be happy to know that I have got permission from the hospital doctor for you and me to visit Alfie. Although he is still in a coma, we can go and sit with him for a while. They think having familiar people around him might help him recover. So why don't we finish our tea and take a trip to the hospital?'

Peggy put her handkerchief to her mouth in an attempt to stifle a sob; she was overjoyed. 'Mr Southill, I can't thank you enough.' She quickly drank her tea and grabbed her coat; John could hardly keep up with her.

The trip to the hospital was without conversation, but a definite colour had returned to Peggy's cheeks. John didn't initiate any small talk because he was engrossed in his own thoughts. He also knew that Peggy would be feeling some nervousness about seeing Alfie, so he found it difficult to think of a subject that would take her mind off the impending visit.

John and Peggy entered the hospital and spoke to the reception nurse who directed them to Alfie's ward.

Peggy was clearly unprepared to see Alfie wired up to monitors and drip-feed tubes; she gasped as she saw him. John put his arm around her shoulder and gently ushered her towards Alfie's bedside. She whispered: 'My poor boy, what has that monster done to you?' The tears that rolled down Peggy's cheeks were quickly mopped up by her liberal use of her paper handkerchiefs.

'Mrs Thoms, I understand that it must be upsetting for you, but look how peaceful and contented he looks,' John said in an attempt to pacify her.

'Yes, I see what you're saying Mr Southill, he does look at peace.' She started to brighten. 'Why do you think that is? Surely all this paraphernalia can't be at all comfortable,' she said, pointing to the tubes and cables.

'I guess it's because he might be in a place subconsciously where he can't be hurt anymore, but who knows? Only Alfie can say where he is and what he's doing,' John said, knowing that he sort of knew the truth behind Alfie's peaceful demeanour. He wasn't ready yet to expose Mrs Thoms to Alfie's place. He also remembered Mr K's warning that Alfie's was a temporary state and he would have to leave his Shangri-La in one direction or another, sooner rather than later. Therefore, a discussion along those lines with Mrs Thoms would probably upset her even more.

'I suppose you're right,' she said as she gently brushed the boy's hair back from his forehead.

John had sat down on the other side of the bed and was lightly holding Alfie's hand. As he slowly slid his hand away, he definitely felt a slight tightening of Alfie's fingers in his hand just as he had the night before. 'Mrs Thoms, why don't you come and sit at this side of the bed for a while? You can hold Alfie's hand, which hasn't got any needles or tubes on it.' John was determined to find out whether Mrs Thoms would also get a similar acknowledgement from him.

Peggy welcomed the opportunity and quickly moved around the bed to the other side. She made herself comfortable and took Alfie's hand in hers. They sat in silence for some time before Nurse Brannigan arrived to carry out her checks and to turn him onto his other side.

'I'm sorry, but you will have to leave now while I settle the patient down for the evening. I'm sure your presence is doing him the power of good, so I hope you'll visit him again.'

Peggy reluctantly withdrew her hand from Alfie's.

On the way out John asked Peggy if she noticed anything odd while she was holding Alfie's hand.

Peggy thought for a moment and said: 'Not particularly, his hand was quite limp and I was scared of disturbing him but no, nothing odd. Why do you ask?'

'Oh, nothing really. I thought I felt a slight squeeze of my hand, but I guess it was just my imagination.'

Peggy sadly agreed.

John drove Peggy home and promised he would take her to the hospital again in a couple of day's time and that he would get her the help she and her friends needed. He then went straight home, put on his running gear and ran for a couple of hours. By the time he got home, he was exhausted and very hungry. He decided on some pasta with stir-fry vegetables and a glass of dry, crisp Chablis. Having showered and let dinner digest, he savoured another glass of Chablis and was falling asleep; so he hauled himself off to bed.

After John and Peggy had left Alfie's bedside, Jennifer Paige strode into the ward. She was really looking forward to spending some time with him because she felt she was making some sort of connection with him.She went through the ritual of studying his notes but above all, she just wanted to sit with him. She studied the detail of his young face and once again found herself wondering what Jason would have looked like had he lived to Alfie's age. 'Stop! Stop this nonsense now. This is not Jason, this is a boy you do not know,' she chastised herself sharply. Jenny had to work very hard, though, not to think of her son each time she saw Alfie. Somehow, she felt a very strong link between them.

Jenny gently stroked Alfie's forehead and held his hand. She stayed for about an hour but then suddenly felt very tired so she decided to go home and get some rest.

* * * * * *

John sat on the riverbank lazily throwing the occasional pebble into the river. As he watched the ripples race across the surface of the water, he wondered what the hell he was to do next. 'This is a wonderful place, no doubt about that,' he thought. 'And I could spend a lot of time here, but why?' He reconsidered the question and concluded he knew the 'why', he had been told so by Mr K. It was more about the 'what'. 'What do I do and how will I know what it is that is required of me?' He stretched out with his hands behind his head, looking up at the azure, cloudless sky and reflected on these questions.

A female voice broke into his thoughts and for a moment he was startled but then pleasantly surprised to find a very attractive woman standing near, what he now called his rose bush.

'Have you been introduced to Mr K and are you here to help Alfie?' she asked.

'Yes and yes to both questions,' he replied with some familiarity. 'My name is John; have you smelled that rose you're standing by? It is simply heavenly,' he said nervously.

Jenny stooped down, cupped a rose head in her hands, and took in a deep breath of perfume. 'Oh, my word that is indeed delightful. This whole place is supremely blissful,' she said letting her eyes take in the setting. 'I'm so sorry, my name is Jennifer.' She walked towards John and extended her hand.

The pair shook hands, then sat and gazed over the river and the surrounding countryside without uttering another word for what seemed like ages. They looked at each other and suddenly started to laugh uncontrollably. The strange way they had just sat there said nothing and gazed at their surroundings was odd, so odd that they thought it rather funny. After they had settled, they started to talk about Alfie and Mr K and this place, and each wondered what it was they were here to do. They both agreed that helping Alfie was certainly the end game but neither knew how they were to do that. They each were certain that they had not yet understood how this was happening.

'How was it possible that each of us could be transported into someone else's subconscious world?'

Both of them had tried in vain to answer that one. They decided to walk a while, nowhere in particular.

'Let's see where our feet take us,' John suggested.

'Yes let's,' Jenny said eagerly.

They walked for what seemed like hours, taking in the aroma of the wildflowers and listening to the birds singing; a gentle breeze brushed soothingly on their faces as they absorbed the beauty of their surroundings.

Jenny broke the silence. 'I can understand why Alfie is reluctant to leave this place; it is so perfect, don't you think John?'

'Yes, I do indeed. But sadly we both know, and I think Alfie also does, that this is just a transient place and I guess we're here to help get him back to the real world. My understanding from Mr K was that if Alfie decided to stay here then it will gradually disappear and Alfie with it.'

They talked and walked and waited for some sign, some guidance on what to do next, but nothing interrupted their wanderings. They explored the meadow, the rivers and hills and stopped at almost every rose bush to gorge themselves on the elegance of the vibrant colours and intoxicating fragrances. There was no doubt that they enjoyed each other's company and each began to get to know the other very well.

* * * * * *

John awoke the next morning late once again. On this occasion, he spent time reflecting on his meeting with Jennifer before he realised the time. As on the previous day, he dashed about getting ready in a totally disorganised way, yet this time he didn't seem to mind it too much. His meeting with Jennifer was pleasurable and he was sure he would see her again. He gathered his briefcase and headed off to the school. Today's assembly would be very important for Alfie and a lot of other people.

Dr Jennifer Paige had spent the whole journey into her office just thinking about John. He was certainly very attractive and fun to be with.

They both became mindful at virtually the same time that the other may not in fact exist in their real world! They were both equally dismayed by that realisation.

Often the test of courage is not to die but to live.

Vittorio Alfieri (1749-1803)

Chapter 9
John arrived in time for his morning assembly. His secretary once again was aware of her Headmaster's dishevelled appearance and continued to be convinced that he now had another interest in his life. She was pleased for him but hoped he wasn't going to neglect his school responsibilities.

'Maureen, can you please get some parental consent forms for the fifth-form pupils who will call to collect one from you today.' John explained what he was going to announce at assembly so that she was in the loop and would be able to answer any questions if they arose.

'Yes, of course, Headmaster.' She paused. 'That's a really lovely thing to do Headmaster,' she said proudly.

John blushed slightly and rushed off to the assembly hall. 'Settle down, settle down,' he said as he strode onto the hall stage.

Children who had moments before been chattering, fidgeting and generally noisy were now completely still and quiet.

After a few routine announcements, John's voice took on a more solemn tone. 'I have been to see one of your fellow students in the hospital, Alfie Madden. You will all no doubt be aware of the circumstances of him being there I am sure through the TV and newspapers so I will not go into the background. My aim is to keep you informed as to how he is progressing. Sadly, he is still in a coma.'

There was an audible murmuring amongst the children until John started to speak again.'He is stable and the doctors are confident that he will recover. For the moment, he is comfortable and being well looked after. I intend to visit him on a regular basis until we can welcome him back here to our school once again. Our thoughts and prayers should be with him at this time. As I get more news I will let you know, thank you. I would like all fifth-formers to remain behind after everyone has returned to their classrooms, please. Mr Cochran and Mr Tilley would you also stay.'

The hall cleared but for the group of students, the deputy head and Alfie's form teacher.

'Thank you for staying on, I know you all have a busy day ahead of you. Prior to visiting Alfie in the hospital, I paid a visit to a Mrs Thoms, who lives in Alderman Avenue, which I'm sure you will know is just outside the school gates. I had known Mrs Thoms before Alfie was injured and we had spoken here in the school. The reason for Mrs Thoms' concern was that Alfie had spent almost all of his spare time helping her and her neighbours, most of them elderly and infirm, and then he suddenly stopped going to them. They didn't know why and were worried. Alfie would cut their grass, empty rubbish, help in the garden, go shopping for them and many other things. He never accepted any reward and they became very fond of him. Not because of his help, which they did appreciate, but because he brought some light into their lives.' There was a deep sadness in John's voice. He continued, 'the people of Alderman Avenue were not aware of the pretty horrible life he had to cope with. Yet despite his own very difficult family life, he was able to help those people and give them some care and attention with a smile, humour and gentleness that was so lacking in his own life. Suddenly, he was not there anymore.' John surveyed the expression of the youngsters in front of him and sadness was etched on all of their faces. One or two of the girls discreetly dabbed their eyes. 'So, why am I telling you all this?' John paused, 'when the people of Alderman Avenue discovered what had happened, they were devastated. Some were able to cope and some had family or friends to take up where Alfie had left off. Mrs Thoms, although elderly herself, looked after those who had no one and had become entirely reliant on Alfie. To put this into context, Alfie worked almost every evening, sometimes until 10 pm, and also on weekends and during school holidays. His energy and hard work was boundless. Unfortunately, Mrs Thoms cannot possibly replicate what Alfie did and is seriously struggling to cope; she needs our help. I am asking for volunteers to spend a little time each evening doing what Alfie did. Do I have any takers?'

John was overwhelmed by the response, there was no hesitation; every student raised a hand.

'Thank you all; I'm very proud of you. Mr Cochran, Mr Tilley, can you please arrange for a plan to be drawn up so that we don't go in ham-fisted. I will speak with Mrs Thoms. All of you must speak with your parents before you do anything and get their permission for you to do this. Please go to Mrs Weston, who will give you a form to take home for your parents to read and sign. Thank you all now please go back to your classes.'

The pupils left, chattering amongst themselves, leaving John and his members of staff.

'Michael, can you please ensure that we cover all of the safety aspects and that everyone taking part is fully briefed. Some of the residents involved here are quite frail and one, a Mr Stolman, is ill, but I expect that Mrs Thoms will be our liaison on the ground. Gentlemen, I know we have a school to run, but this is very important to us. It will not only help our community but also our pupils who will learn a lot from the experience. Let us meet each afternoon before the students leave to ensure we keep in control. Let's get to it then.'

John was excited by it all and went immediately to Mrs Thoms to tell her what they had decided. John didn't even get a chance to knock at her door before Peggy eagerly answered it and welcomed him in. When he told her what had been organised, she started to cry.

'You must think I'm a silly old fool, Mr Southill,' she said between the tears. 'Every time we meet I'm blubbering about something or other.'

'Not at all Mrs Thoms, I think you've shown tremendous strength. The students will be here tomorrow afternoon after school with my deputy, Michael Cochran. I will introduce you to him before I leave for the hospital. They have to get their parents' permission today so they will not be able to start until tomorrow. I would be grateful if you would give Michael some help in allocating tasks to the students. Of course, I mustn't forget, the people who are being helped need to be asked if they want our help. I hope I can leave that to you, Mrs Thoms. It's important that they know that the students are doing this because they want to do it and seek no reward. They will have been briefed that they are not to enter anyone's home unaccompanied or uninvited. Hopefully, they will be happy to see a dozen or so 'Alfie's' doing what he did so well.'

John returned to the school in the hope that he could catch up on some of his ever expanding in tray content. The next few hours disappeared in a flash. Maureen reminded him that Michael and Edwin were due to attend the afternoon meeting in a few moments.

The trio discussed all of the details that constituted their hastily drawn-up plan. There were far more young volunteers than was needed on a daily basis, so a rota was established. Michael would meet with Mrs Thoms and gather a list of priority activities and some nice-to-haves. Edwin was asked to develop a school project that the students could use as a learning activity; he would encourage them to keep diaries and build a picture of what they were doing. John was glad that the burden would now be lifted from Mrs Thoms and she and her friends would get some respite. He left the project in the capable hands of his two colleagues and drove to the hospital.

After John's visit to see Alfie, where there had been no change in his condition, he went home and embarked on a serious bit of running. He had got through some of the paperwork that had piled up in his office and the rest he stuffed into his briefcase to deal with at home. However, despite his attempts to concentrate on the task at hand, he found it impossible. He thought continually about Jennifer and Mr K and that rose which he could still smell. The fragrance was there constantly and it was as strong as ever.

After John, left the ward that evening, Jenny entered it from the opposite direction; she almost collided with Peter Grant in her haste to see Alfie.

'Hold on there, you're in a bit of a hurry, Jenny, where's the fire? Peter joked.

Jenny smiled at him and said: 'Sorry Peter, but I've had such a busy day. Everything has been absolutely manic and I felt I just wanted to get some quiet time with our patient.'

'It's ok Jenny; I'm only joking. I have to say, though; I have never seen you with so much energy and vitality.' Peter thought it unlikely that she had at last met someone because she spent most of her waking hours either at work or at Alfie's bedside, but he was pleased for her, whatever the cause. 'Alfie's visitor has just left and he remains stable, no change really. I will no doubt see you tomorrow. Goodnight Jennifer.'

Alfie looked as peaceful as ever as Jenny went through what was now becoming a ritual of studying his notes and life-sign charts. She then spent that quiet time with him, gently stroking his forehead and holding his hand. The time had passed so quickly and it was time to go. She whispered: 'Goodbye,' to Alfie and said softly: 'I'll see you later, I hope.' Jenny got up to leave for home and spotted Amy on her way out. 'Goodnight Amy, I'm off.'

Nurse Brannigan thought Dr Paige looked very bright eyed considering it was the end of a long day and replied: 'Goodnight Jennifer, see you tomorrow.'

* * * * * *

John walked towards the familiar wooden bench near the riverbank. The Keeper sat in his usual pose, leaning forward on his walking cane, gazing into the clear running water. Without turning around, he said: 'Good day John, nice to see you back again. How did you get on with Jennifer?'

'Very well thank you, she seems a very nice person, although I'm not surprised. Given that you're able to create a place like this, it shouldn't be too difficult to create a very nice person should it?' John replied with just a hint of cynicism.

'Ah,' Mr K suddenly exclaimed, 'here is that very nice person now. Come and sit with us, Jennifer.'

'Hi John, Mr K, nice to see you both.'

The trio sat quietly for some time until John could not resist asking the question that had been buzzing around in his head.

'How are we supposed to help Alfie? We've no idea where he is or what to do if or when we meet up with him.'

'You will meet with Alfie in good time John; he needs to be certain of what he wants to do. He will need your help to find the white gate. If he chooses to go through it, then that will be the start of his new journey. That journey will be difficult and dangerous for him because a wrong choice made there will make it almost impossible for him to return. The task you are both here for is to guide and support him on this testing and challenging road.'

Jenny then said: 'But surely you can tell us where to look for this white gate. It will save time and I don't think he has much of that to spare.'

'Time is not an issue here Jennifer. Choices are what are important, provided he embarks on the task of choosing and not just sitting around enjoying the scenery. He knows the consequences of doing that, which, of course, is one of his options.'

'But time is an issue in his real world; his body cannot be sustained indefinitely in a state of coma.'

Jennifer's voice raised an octave or so to emphasise her concern.

Mr K looked at them both with a reassuring smile and said: 'Trust me please; Alfie will have all the time he needs. Remember that time can be expanded here so the visitors to this place are not encumbered by the limitations of time in their real world. I would suggest that you start by seeking out Alfie, I'm sure he will be pleased to see you.'

Jennifer and John got up from the bench and walked towards the beautiful red rose bush. The flowers on it were prolific and their scent pervaded the air. John turned to make a comment about how intoxicating it was but then saw that Mr K had once again disappeared, along with the wooden bench. 'You'd think that he would at least leave us a bench to sit on,' remarked John light-heartedly. 'So, where to now?'

Jenny strode out into the wildflower meadow in front of her: 'Let's go find Alfie.'

John quickly caught up with her and they walked along, quite happily not knowing where they were going.

A large oak tree became visible and at its base was a young man.

As they approached, Alfie got up and said excitedly: 'Hello you two, you've come here at last. I've been waiting for you.'

John and Jenny were amazed by how healthy and fresh Alfie looked. He had colour in his cheeks and all of the signs of the injuries he displayed in the hospital were no longer visible. He looked as though he had filled out a bit; he was bulkier. In fact, he looked more like an eighteen-year-old than the younger teenager who lay in the hospital bed.

John asked: 'Do you know who I am?'

'Yes,' replied Alfie. 'With some help from Mr K we invited you here to help. Although I'm not sure, I need any.'

'So you also know me then,' Jenny said, interrupting, 'and why I'm here. So can you tell us what you mean when you say you're not sure you need any help?'

Alfie sat back and with his hands behind his head said: 'Why should I need any help? I don't intend to leave this place, why should I? It's wonderful here.'

Jenny was disappointed but didn't show it, she had a plan.

'Well, I guess there's no point in us staying then John. Mr K did say that Alfie could make a choice that would make our presence here irrelevant. So, shall we go? Jenny turned to John and winked at him, indicating that he should go along with her ploy. 'We hope you enjoy your time here and it's very nice meeting you but I guess we probably won't meet again.'

John reached out and shook Alfie's hand. Jennifer leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. 'Bye Alfie.'

They had walked about 100 metres away when Alfie shouted after them.

'Wait, please wait, I need to talk to you.'

They stopped, but Jenny grabbed John's forearm, preventing him from turning around. She didn't want to appear too eager to respond to Alfie's call. They paused for a moment or two and then slowly walked back to Alfie, who was sat with his knees up and his head resting on them.

As the two adults approached, Alfie looked up. Tears had filled his eyes, but he was holding them back. He had grown used to not showing his emotions, yet something here allowed him to do so if he chose. For now, he was almost, but not fully, in control.

Jenny and her companion sat down with Alfie. He looked so sad and troubled. This was a different Alfie from the one they had first met today.

Jenny was the first to speak.

'You wanted to talk to us then Alfie?'

He looked up through his tear-filled eyes, fighting hard to maintain some sort of emotional control.

'I don't know what to do, I'm scared.' For the first time in his young life, he completely broke down and sobbed.

Jenny and John put an arm around him and cradled him between them. They could feel their own emotions welling up inside but knew they needed to allow Alfie this moment.

After a time, he settled and wiped away his tears with the back of his hand. Looking up at John, he said: 'I'm sorry that was really stupid of me, I just feel so mixed up. Mr K says I have to make a choice but so far all I know is this wonderful place and that horrible place back there.'

'I guess that's why we are here Alfie,' John said. 'You have an important decision to make and we will help you.'

'But what decision? I don't know what decision, I'm confused.'

Alfie was agitated so Jenny took up the conversation.

'As nice as this place is Alfie, you know it can't last and if you decide to stay here then it will disappear very quickly, Mr K has made that clear. I know that the real world you came from was horrible for you, but you have no idea just how dearly loved you are by so many people, especially those who you have regularly helped. In the choice you make you need to consider what it will be like for them to lose you.'

'But what about me losing my mother; what about my loss?'

Alfie was angry.

'I'm sure that the last thing she would want is for her son to be lost as well,' Jenny countered.

Dark clouds started to appear and there was a chill in the air. The brightness and warmth of Alfie's place was gradually descending into darkness.

'I am so angry, I want to find Jack and make him pay for what he has done. That's it,' he said emphatically, 'I've decided I won't rest until that is done.' Alfie was indeed angry. Just the thought of his stepfather caused a surge of hatred within him that made him feel like he would tear Jack's head off if he came into contact with him.

John and Jenny looked at each other and knew instinctively that Alfie did not know that his stepfather was in fact already dead. They needed to speak to The Keeper urgently.

'You need to find the white gate Alfie, and we can help you do that.'

John tried to break into Alfie's thoughts and get him away from his desire for vengeance. He was convinced that Alfie's anger was turning his place into a real nightmare from which he may not escape.

Jenny then slipped away leaving John to deal with Alfie. She would seek out Mr K. As she walked and was out of sight, there, a short distance away, was the old man and his wooden bench.

'Hello Jennifer,' he said before she got close enough for him to know she was there. 'You've met up with Alfie I see and you need to ask me a question, I know.'

Jenny opened her mouth to speak, but Mr K spoke first. 'Alfie does not know his stepfather is dead and, therefore, you are questioning why not tell him and that will satisfy his desire to seek him out.'

'Yes exact...' Jenny started but Mr K interrupted.

'If he is told what has happened to his stepfather in this place and returns to his real world he will take his anger with him and may never resolve the question he has come here to answer. He must have the opportunity to complete his task here.'

'Ok, I understand, but what do we do? This anger of his is making this place change. Over there by the tree, where Alfie and John are, the sky is now grey and the wildflowers are looking as though they might be dying. The birds have disappeared and the feeling of peacefulness is becoming less discernible.'

'Help him find the white gate, Jennifer, for his sake – yours and John's also. Unfortunately, things will become darker once you all enter the gate, but I urge you, be strong.'

She turned to speak.

'What do mean for mine and John's sake? Are you saying this is about us as well as Alfie?' Mr K had disappeared.

Jenny returned to the oak tree where she had left Alfie with John. Alfie had calmed down and had agreed to seek out the white gate. He had decided to walk for a short while, to think. The sky had returned to its cloudless azure state, the meadow was vibrant and all was well again. Jenny took the opportunity to speak to John about her conversation with Mr K.

John said: 'I don't understand what he meant by "for his sake as well yours and mine." He surely doesn't think that we are in a similar situation to Alfie. We're only here to help him.'

'Well John, I believe he knows that I have a particular tragedy in my life that perhaps I haven't fully dealt with yet and now is the time and here is the place. I lost my son and husband in an accident nine years ago. My son, Jason, would have been just a little younger than Alfie, but they are very similar in many ways.'

John's face had turned ashen: 'I lost my fiancée in a train crash nine years ago. I was told about it almost immediately after it happened and because I lived nearby, I went to the crash site. I was one of the first there and I searched for her for hours. When I finally found her, she was dead.'

'You say, train crash?' Jenny asked, her voice trembling. 'Was it the London to Wensford train disaster?'

'Yes, why do you ask?'

'That was the train my husband and son were on.' Jenny sank to her knees and clamped her hand over her mouth. 'I see it now, we have been chosen because of the connections between us, but I don't know how this links us to Alfie.'

* * * * * *

The smell of that beautiful rose woke John up from his deep sleep. He was sure the rose was in the room with him. He felt peculiar this morning and lay there mulling over the latest episode in this weird adventure that Jennifer and he were in. He started to think about the discussion they'd had and still found it impossible to comprehend. Then, a quick glance at his alarm clock told him what he needed to know – he was late again. He leapt out of bed and proceeded to dash about in a manic fashion, grabbing a tie, a shirt, trying to get two legs down one trouser leg. He had never been so disorganised.

Jennifer stirred at about the same time. She was pleased that once again she'd had a great night's sleep and then started to recall the events of her venture. She became aware of the smell of that rose that suddenly filled the air in her bedroom. 'What an extraordinary night,' she thought. The discussion with John, their inextricable connection gave her goose bumps. More goose bumps were to follow when she saw the time on the bedside clock. 'Here we go again,' she thought. She just grabbed the first clothes that she could get her hands on and dressed on the move. She drove to the hospital and as she got out of the car, she was horrified to find that she had different coloured shoes on. She was going to spend most of the day with her feet hidden under a desk. She phoned a few contacts to see if they could discreetly help her out of her embarrassment. Amy Brannigan was able to come to the rescue with a spare pair of nurse's shoes she had in her locker. The two women laughed about it despite Jenny's initial humiliation.

Amy had never seen Dr Paige so happy.

John breezed into his office.

'Morning Maureen, how are you today?' he asked in a very cheery manner.

'I'm fine thank you, Headmaster,' Maureen replied with a very puzzled look on her face. 'I've never seen him like this. What on earth is going on?' she asked herself.

John was really energised and waded through his mountain of paperwork with gusto. The day went quickly and Michael and Edwin reported in for their afternoon meeting, which John had almost forgotten.

All of the children had been given permission from their parents for the project, so there were no issues there. Michael gave a rundown on the details and said the students were excited by it all.

John decided to go ahead and see if Mrs Thoms had been able to brief her neighbours. He was particularly interested in whether there had been any objections. There had been none.

Peggy Thoms was so excited, she was bubbling over. The students were asked to work for just one hour, to see if it went ok. Shopping lists had been prepared and Frank Stolman's garden was a priority; it had been badly neglected since he became ill and Alfie wasn't here. Even Mrs Thoms' garden needed a tidy.

The volunteers arrived with the deputy Headmaster and met with Mrs Thoms and John. Introductions followed and they were allocated their tasks in pairs for the shopping and in groups of four for the gardens. The Pattersons were overwhelmed. They stood at their doorway with beaming smiles on their faces watching the hive of activity. Mrs Thoms buzzed around from one address to another handing out soft drinks and buns, of which she had made sufficient to feed an army.

John was really pleased it was going well. He left Michael in charge. Mrs Thoms was thoroughly into the swing of things, so he left for the hospital to see Alfie.

Dr Peter Grant put his head around the door.

'Can we have a word Mr Southill?'

John got up and quietly extracted his hand from Alfie's.

'We had a bit of a scare during the night with Alfie. His vital signs took a turn for the worse. I was about to instigate an emergency medical procedure for him when he started to calm down of his own volition. I will be speaking to Dr Paige shortly to see what her advice is. Just thought I would let you know.'

'Thanks, Doctor. I'll just go back to him if that's ok.'

'Yes, please do, I'll probably see you when Dr Paige gets here if you're still around.'

It was getting late and John decided to leave. 'I'll be off now Dr Grant. I will call in again tomorrow. Goodbye.'

Peter Grant waved a hand in a goodbye gesture and watched John as he left the ward.

John had barely got through the door at one end of the ward when Jenny arrived through the door at the other end.

'Hello Peter,' she said cheerfully, 'how is he?'

'His life signs are all stable and apart from a scare during the night when we thought he was going into shock again, he seems ok.'

'Peter,' Jenny suddenly became serious, 'you may not understand what I am about to ask of you but, trust me, it's essential that you do.'

'Do what?' he asked.

'Trust me.'

'Ok, what is it I need to trust you about?'

'I can't explain all of it, Peter, because you would not believe me if I tried to. I'm not sure I believe any of it myself. But what I do know, and am convinced about, is that it is critical that if Alfie's life signs start to deteriorate again he must not be sedated.'

Peter almost went into shock himself. 'Jennifer, you can't be serious. You are expecting me not to treat him and to allow the boy to die. I would be seriously culpable if I did that.'

'Peter, I wish I could explain in a way you could understand. All I can do is tell you, Alfie is currently in another reality and everything he does there will enable him to return here. If he is sedated, it stops him from doing what he has to do. He will remain in his current state and eventually be unrecoverable.'

Peter thought for a long time, weighing up the risks.

'You've completely lost me, Jenny. I don't understand a damn thing about what you're telling me but I do understand and agree with your prognosis.' He paused. 'I do trust you, so here's what I will do. I'll allow him to go much further than we have done to date and I will withhold sedating him until I believe it would be negligent to continue to do so. I cannot, and will not, run the risk of him dying. I will call you when the next event occurs because I think it will be important for you to be here; I hope you don't mind if it's in the middle of the night.'

Jenny thought: 'Oh shit if he calls me when I'm with Alfie I will get pulled back here. I don't know just what the impact of that will be.' This is a complication and she knew she would need to discuss it with The Keeper. 'Just remember I am sleeping rather soundly lately. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it eh. Thanks, Peter.' She smiled sweetly at him and went in to see Alfie.

I dreamed a thousand new paths.

I woke and walked my old one.

Chinese Proverb

Chapter 10
Jennifer skipped through the wisps of grass and wildflowers. She spread the fingers of her hands and stooped slightly as she walked to let the flower heads brush over her skin. Bees danced their way from flower to flower in a frenzy of activity while butterflies waltzed gracefully in front of her. She didn't know where she was going, but it didn't seem to matter.

John waved from a distance and Jenny stopped to let him catch up with her.

'Let's sit for a while and talk about this... this crazy world we keep getting dragged into Jenny. I really need to get my head around what is happening here.' John was shaking his head, trying to throw his thoughts into some sort of order or logic that would help him understand.

'John, I'm just as bewildered as you are and desperate to understand how this is happening. However, what I do know is this; it is happening, and up to this moment in time everything is wonderful. I am sure that it could change in a split second, so understanding it all is of minor importance to me. For more than nine years I cannot describe the unhappiness I endured; I am sure you must have done so too. Yet now, here, in this breathtaking wonderland, I feel free, happy, relaxed, unburdened. Tell me, John, surely you feel the same?'

'Yes, I have to admit I do feel all of those things, but...'

Jenny interrupted by holding her hand up.

'No buts John, just enjoy, it may not last.'

John smiled and conceded that she was right.

'We do have to find Alfie, though, and that damned gate. Let's go.'

They made their way to where they would normally find Alfie but were surprised to discover he wasn't there. So, they sat under Alfie's tree and waited. After a short time, John suggested that they should try and find the gate themselves. 'It's possible that Alfie has already gone to look for the gate. If he has found it, he may have decided to go through without us. I don't think that would be a good move.'

'I agree, John; I have a feeling that whatever is beyond that gate may not be as pleasant as it is here.'

Alfie saw a white gate a short distance away. He had been walking for what seemed like hours and, at last, he could see what he was looking for. As he got closer, he could see that it looked like an ordinary wrought-iron gate with a short metal closure latch. Strangely, he couldn't see anything beyond the gate and that worried him. He approached and tried to peer through the gaps but could see nothing. It was as though there was just blackness beyond it. He sat down and contemplated what to do next. 'Should I go through on my own or should I wait for John and Jennifer?' he thought. Questions raced through his mind. 'What will I find there? What if I need help and John and Jenny don't show up? What if I can't do this on my own? What if I go in on my own and fail?' The boy cradled his head on his knees as he sat against the white gate and trembled as he considered the magnitude of his options. He then decided that it was unfair to John and Jennifer to be burdened with his responsibilities. Without further hesitation, he opened the gate and went through.

'Jenny, look, there it is, the gate.'

In his excitement, John left Jennifer behind and bounded off in the direction of the white gate.

Eventually, and a little breathless, Jennifer joined him at the gate.

'It's strange John; I can't see anything beyond it. Can you?'

'No, it's as black as night on the other side.'

John looked back at the meadow they had just walked through, it was bright and fresh and yet here, beyond the gate, just darkness. A shiver passed through John's body. 'Jenny, I think Alfie has taken it upon himself to go it alone.'

'What makes you think that?'

'I don't know, but I have this strong feeling that he has and he needs our help.' John lifted the latch on the gate and with some trepidation said, invitingly, to Jenny: 'Shall we?

It was no longer dark on the other side of the gate, but it was overcast, cheerless and cold compared with where he had just come from. Alfie recognised where he was immediate – standing in Alderman Avenue. It looked unkempt, derelict, overgrown. The houses were in various states of disrepair and even the road was in a poor condition, with potholes and broken pavements. He couldn't believe his eyes. 'What on earth has happened here?' he thought. 'I'll go and see Mrs Thoms, she'll know.' He made his way to Peggy Thoms house and looked with sadness as he approached her gate. It looked so untidy and uncared for. The area of what used to be the lawn was completely overgrown with weeds. There was also a distinct absence of the flowers she loved so much. 'This cannot be happening,' Alfie said to himself. He quickly glanced over to Frank Stolman's place opposite; it was a mess.He hesitantly walked to her front door and knocked gently. After waiting quite some time for a response, he knocked again and louder.

'Go away whoever you are,' a rather gruff but weak voice rasped from behind the door. 'I've got nothing you can have, go away.'

'It's me Mrs Thoms, Alfie. What on earth has happened here? Are you all right?'

'Alfie! I don't know any Alfie, go away. I'm not going to open this door so you can sod off. I'm not falling for any more tricks.'

'Mrs Thoms, I used to see you every day on my way from school. I helped people around here like Mr Stolman across the way from you. How is he?'

'You're a lying toe rag; old Frank has been dead for years. Now go away and leave me alone, for pity's sake leave me alone. You lot have already robbed everything I had, now go away.'

Alfie could hear Mrs Thoms sobbing behind the door. He turned away and slowly left her to her obvious unhappiness. He could not understand what had happened here and was overwhelmed by sadness. He now wished he had waited for John and Jennifer and sat at the kerbside wondering what to do next. He immediately thought of the Pattersons. 'They will remember me,' he thought. Alfie gathered himself up and walked over to the house where he spent so much time. Now, it was as if he had never been there before – grim, overgrown and uncared for. Anxiously, he knocked at the door but there was no reply. He waited for a short time and knocked again, but no one answered. As he turned away, he noticed the curtains at the side of the window flicker. Someone was in and had watched him. Surely it could not have been the Pattersons; they would have opened the door to him. He turned back towards the front door and was about to knock when a young woman opened it to a gap that was restrained by a stout chain.

'What do you want?' she said curtly.

'My name is Alfie and I'm looking for Mr and Mrs Patterson, who live, or at least, once lived here. Do you know them?'

'I can see you're on your own, so don't try and force your way in here, I've got a weapon behind this door and I will use it if I have to. I don't know any Pattersons but there was an old couple who lived here a few years ago but the old guy got killed and I don't know what happened to the old woman.'

'What do you mean 'killed'? What happened?' The shock on Alfie's face was clear to see.

'Can't talk about it, can't, can't – you have to go now,' she said in an agitated tone.

'Please, I need your help. I don't know what has happened here and I need to find out, you've got to help me.'

The woman glanced sideways down Alderman Avenue as a car with its headlights on moved slowly towards them.

Alfie followed her eyes. It was a police car and it was shining a spotlight on the front doors of the houses.

The security chain was suddenly slipped off and the door opened wider.

'Get in quick, quickly before they see you.'

The woman grabbed Alfie's arm and pulled him through the doorway.

'You'd better not try anything because I will clobber you with this,' she said as she picked up a large baseball bat and backed away from him holding it in front of her.

'I promise you, I do not intend to harm you. Please believe me,' Alfie pleaded with the woman. 'All I want is some answers about what has happened here.' There was sincerity in Alfie's voice that was hard to ignore.

'Come in,' she said and beckoned him into what was a sparsely furnished sitting room.

'Sit down,' she commanded still clutching her protection; although now the club was being held in a slightly less threatening manner. 'I've never seen you around here before and you don't seem to be like the others. Where have you come from?'

Alfie knew that he could not explain where he had come from or why he was here, so he replied. 'I'm from out of town and I used to live in this area a long time ago. Can I ask what your name is?'

After some hesitation, she reluctantly said she was called Maisie.

Alfie, with a disarming smile reached forward and offered his hand. 'I'm Alfie.'

He noted that Maisie was about the same age as he was but, unlike most of the girls that he knew, she had no makeup on and her clothes were very basic. She obviously was living close to the breadline.

Maisie stepped back, still afraid, but then reached across and very tentatively took Alfie's hand in hers. Her hand was trembling slightly and had the clamminess that comes from fear. 'Sorry about the greeting but I have to be very careful around here nowadays. What planet have you been on anyway? I thought almost the whole of the country was the same as here,' she said nervously.

'As I said, I've been travelling quite a bit, so I've sort of lost touch.'

Alfie didn't like lying to her but he had little choice. 'So Maisie, do you want to tell me what's been going on here. Just treat me like I've landed from Mars.' Alfie pulled a face, attempting to emulate an alien. Maisie saw the funny side of it and laughed heartily, more out of relief than anything else.

When she stopped giggling, she said: 'Sorry, there's not much to laugh about here and that's the first time I've laughed about anything for as long as I can remember.'

'But why Maisie? What on earth has happened to change this place so much? It used to be so neat and tidy, such a pleasant area. Now I just see dereliction and...', Alfie struggled to find the words, '... neglect, as though nobody cares anymore.'

'Nobody does care; it's all about survival. I can remember when we could walk out at night in this town and could trust the police, but not anymore. Once the gangs moved in and the police and the politicians were bought off, it all changed. Some tried to move out only to find that other towns were the same, and some even worse. Those who stayed have been terrorised ever since, with some conveniently disappearing, never to be seen again. I don't know how far away you have been but you should never have come back.'

'You said earlier that the old guy who lived here was killed. Can you tell me what happened?'

'I didn't live here then but was looking for somewhere to bed down. The old guy was at the front door trying to stop some scumbags from forcing their way into his house. They just dragged him outside and beat up on him mercilessly. They walked away, leaving him on the ground, laughing their drug-filled heads off. I got to him as his wife was cradling him in her arms. She was crying: "Get help, please get help." The poor old fella was in a bit of a mess and I didn't hold out too much hope. Anyway, I ran down the road and asked a few people for help but they did what they always do and turned away. No one wants to get involved here anymore. When I got back, the old man had died. Helen – I found out her name later – asked me to help her so I did. We carried the old man inside and tried to clean him up a bit.'

'Didn't you call the police or an ambulance?' Alfie asked

'And how were we supposed to do that? There are no phones here anymore; they've all been nicked or smashed. Anyway, the police would have been no better than useless and paramedics couldn't have saved him. I helped her bury him in the back garden. Helen was destroyed and I could do little to help her. She told me that I could stay on because it would be company for her, so I did. Then, one day I got up and found that she had gone and I haven't seen her since. As for the police, they wouldn't have done anything because it would upset the big man and their pay cheques. They always steer clear of any activities of Jack and his cronies.'

Hearing the name Jack sent a shiver down Alfie's spine.

'It couldn't be, surely?' Alfie tried to reassure himself. 'This Jack guy, how do you know so much about him?'

'Put it this way, up until a couple of years ago I was part of the whole scene – drugs, raves, alcohol and partying. I guess just generally being a regular arsehole like the rest of them, but I gradually realised that I needed to get away. The lifestyle was like living in a sewer; I had to get out. Jack had control of the people around him by feeding their drug habits, so they did his bidding. He also had access to a shed load of cash, which he used to buy off anyone like the police or politicians. One thing was certain; nobody, but nobody, crossed Jack once they were on his payroll.'

'Maisie, what was his surname?'

'Madden, Jack Madden; why do you ask?'

'Just curious,' he said as the colour drained from his face.

Once through the gate John and Jennifer saw that they were in what could be considered a typical English countryside. It certainly wasn't anything like Alfie's place where they had met The Keeper, but it was pleasant. They walked down a country lane hoping that they would bump into Alfie. John suddenly stopped.

'I know this place, I'm certain,' John said, his brow furrowed trying to remember exactly where they were. He scanned the area, turning in each direction, searching for clues that would confirm his fears. Then he saw it. 'Oh my god, no; please not here.'

'What is it, John? What on earth is it?' Jennifer pleaded.

'Over there, just in that slight dip, is a railway line. Jenny, it's the London to Wensford rail track and this is the spot where the crash happened nine years ago.'

'But why have we been led here John, I don't understand?'

John looked at his watch; it was 6.30pm, just ten minutes from the time of the accident nine years earlier. He checked his mobile phone and saw that the clock and calendar had reverted to the exact time and year of the disaster. 'I believe we've been brought here to witness it. Don't ask me why, but you did not see it at all and I arrived at the scene a short time after it had happened. Perhaps it's an opportunity to prevent it happening or maybe to save the ones we lost. I just don't know.'

Jenny tendered the possibility, 'perhaps it's an opportunity to see how it happened and in some sort of misguided way give us a chance to lay it all to rest, give us closure. But I don't think I want closure in this way. I don't want to see my family being... being killed.' She wanted to say she didn't want to see them being torn to shreds and mangled up amongst twisted steel and shattered glass, but couldn't bring herself to say out loud what she was thinking. She had spent years erasing that image from her mind and wasn't about to relive it in three-dimensional Technicolor.

'But Jennifer, what if this really is a chance to save them? What if we can prevent that crash?'

'John, for God's sake, we're in a dream world, a fantasyland; some sort of Never Never Land. Do you honestly think anything we do here will affect our real lives?'

'Mr K seems to think we're here to make choices and deal with some issues, so why not? I just don't have the answers, Jenny, but I have to try and do something. I'm going down near the track before the trains arrive; I want to see if there is anything at all I can do. You coming with me?'

Jennifer reluctantly agreed and went along with John, dreading every minute of the waiting before she was to witness the event that was to alter her life forever.

John knew exactly how close they could get to the train track, given his memory of the mangled wreckage that spilled off the track and onto the field below after the collision. So he stopped just outside the wreckage area. He, of course, was hoping that somehow they could prevent it happening. They took up a position overlooking the crash site and waited. John had no idea how the disaster might be averted while Jennifer clung on to John and trembled. He soon admitted to himself that there was absolutely nothing he could do but wait.

It was approaching the time. The 6.15 from London would arrive at this spot in three minutes' time; at the same time, the train from the opposite direction would career into it.

The pair held on to each other and tightened their embrace as the sound of the approaching trains pervaded the quiet countryside. As the trains came into view, John tightened his grip on Jennifer. She wanted to avert her eyes from the impending horror but was transfixed.

John's jaw dropped as he watched both trains pass each other without as much as a sliver of paint being removed. Jenny had involuntarily shut her eyes fleetingly. When she opened them all she saw was the two trains proceeding happily on their way in opposite directions. She looked at John, who was still mesmerised by what he had witnessed.

'It didn't happen, Jennifer, it didn't happen.' John started to laugh and lifted Jennifer off the ground, twirling her round and round. 'It didn't happen,' he kept repeating.

Jennifer screamed at him: 'Put me down, stop this right now.'

John regained his senses and slowly lowered Jennifer to the ground.

'Do you realise the horror you led me to believe would happen here? Do you know the nightmare you made me live through? Can you possibly understand?' Jennifer was crying, angry and hurt, yet relieved that she had not had to endure the terror she had prepared herself for.

John put his arm around her; she pushed him away.

They sat down on the grass in silence looking at the now empty and quiet railway track. Jennifer broke the silence.

'I'm sorry John, I know you had no control over what was to happen here and I shouldn't blame you. I was just so frightened of seeing something that I didn't really want to see.'

'I know it would have been very hard for you. I at least had some concept of what I would see because I was there amongst the wreckage. But do you realise that what we've seen, or should I say not seen, tonight means that your family and my fiancée are alive, at least here in this place! We should take comfort from that.'

Jennifer's face suddenly glowed: 'That means it's possible I will be able to see my husband and son again and you will be able to see your fiancée.'

'Yes, I think you're right Jenny. This countryside is the same as our real world, the train track is in exactly the same place, everything appears to be the same. Which means they should be living in the same houses, going about their lives in the same way. Apart from the train crash everything should be the same.'

John was suddenly excited at the thought that he would see Kate again. John pulled Jennifer up by both hands. 'Let's go and see if we can find them.'

They stepped out together with purpose and hope.

'Kate and I were living in a small cottage not far from here. Do you mind if we go there first?'

They walked at a sprightly pace and came to the outskirts of John's village of nine years ago. He recognised the small duck pond and the inn with its wooden tables set out for the regular evening visitors, especially the commuters, to sit and relax. The tables were already filling up with customers because it was very pleasant evening.

As they got closer John suddenly took a sharp intake of breath – it was Kate. She was as beautiful as ever, probably even more than he cared to admit. She had a glass of wine in her hand and was in deep conversation with a very good-looking man. Their faces were close together and they gazed intensely into each other's eyes.

John stopped and turned away so that Kate could not see his face.

Jennifer asked: 'What's wrong John?'

He explained what he was seeing.

'What the hell is going on Jenny? She's looking at him as though they are in love. How can that be?'

'I don't have any answers, John. As I have said before, I'm really struggling to understand what's going on here.'

John decided he was going to speak to Kate and walked over to her table. Jennifer walked discreetly behind. 'Hi Kate, are you going to introduce me to your friend?'

'I'm sorry, I think you have me mistaken for someone else,' Kate responded sharply and carried on looking into her companion's eyes.

'Surely, you remember me, Kate. We were engaged and...'

Kate's companion stood up and confronted John. 'Look, buddy, you've already been told you're mistaken; now I would appreciate it if you would leave me and my fiancée alone and butt out.'

Jennifer stepped in and took John's arm.

'I apologise for my friend; he sometimes gets confused. Come on John we have to go.' She led John away, who was clearly in a state of shock.

Jennifer took him away from the village and they sat on a stone wall on the outskirts. John was still trying to take in what had just happened.

Some time had passed before either of them spoke and it was Jennifer who broke the silence. 'I believe that what we have experienced tonight is another reality. I can't explain it exactly, but I think we are not part of it because we still exist in the world back through the gate. This place is not intended for us, but I believe it is intended to help us achieve closure. Once we do that we will be better placed to help Alfie, I'm sure. I need you to trust me, John. Come with me and help me find Mathew and Jason. I'm certain that once we see them I can explain more clearly what I think has happened here and how it will help us both.'

John muttered an agreement, but he was still devastated with what was, in his eyes, a double blow. Nine years ago, he held his dead fiancée in his arms. Then he is able to see her again, alive, fresh, vibrant and as beautiful as ever, but she doesn't even know him as if he never existed. To add insult to injury, she's engaged to someone else. It was bad enough losing her the first time, now this. John was too angry to listen fully to what Jennifer was saying, but he got the gist.

They had walked for some time before they reached what Jennifer thought was the neighbourhood she and her family had lived in. She recognised the park where she would often go with Jason and his father for walks and for the two men in her life to kick a ball about. She would sit on a wooden bench, not dissimilar to the one that always accompanied Mr K, and watch her 'boys' chase a football around the park. She saw a bench that she thought was about in the place she used to sit. She and John sat down and neither of them spoke. Jennifer was lost in her fond memories while John was still seething.

A family approached. Jennifer could see that it was Mathew and Jason. Her heart skipped a beat and she couldn't take her eyes off the husband and son she thought she would never see again. John saw the expression of joy on Jennifer's face. He was about to ask her if she was going to speak to them, but Jennifer held up her hand in a gesture that said: 'Don't John.' He remained silent.

Jennifer was so spellbound by seeing Mathew and Jason again that she failed to hear the woman asking if she could sit on the bench. John nudged Jennifer and said to the woman: 'Of course, please do.'

Jennifer shook herself out of her trance.

'I'm terribly sorry,' she said with a slightly embarrassed smile, 'I was in a bit of a daydream.'

The boy kicked the ball towards the bench accidentally and it rolled to Jennifer's feet. She picked it up and held it out for Jason, who had ran over to retrieve it. As he took the ball from Jennifer's hands, she fleetingly touched his. She felt a surge of emotion rise through her whole body and then let the ball go.

Jason turned to the woman who was sat next to Jennifer and said: 'Dad has said that when we finish here we can go to the cinema, provided it's ok with you. Can we Mum, please?'

'Of course we can Jason, I think that will be a nice treat.'

Jason ran back to his Dad shouting excitedly. 'Mum says it's ok Dad,' and kicked the ball towards him. It rebounded off a tree and back towards the bench. This time Mathew ran to recover it, smiled at Jennifer and John and joked: 'I'm getting too old for this.'

Jennifer choked back the lump in her throat, turned to the woman, and said: 'you have a lovely family, they seem very happy.'

'Thank you, I'm very proud of them and, yes, we are a very happy family,' she replied.

They sat and watched for a while then Jennifer stood up.

'I think we should be going now, John.'

Turning to Jason's mum, she said: 'It's been lovely meeting you and your charming family. Enjoy your picture show. Goodbye.' Jennifer turned away as tears filled her eyes. John walked alongside her and could sense her sadness. He didn't realise that they were not tears of sadness but tears of joy.

They walked in silence for many miles, or so it seemed. John did not want to initiate a conversation that might broach any sensitive issues. Jennifer was just lost in her thoughts. Eventually, they stopped and rested.

'I now understand and I'm happy we came here,' Jennifer said, reflecting on the events since they came through the gate.

John still didn't understand nor had any notion why Mr K would lead them here and put them through this.

'Did you not see just how happy Mathew and Jason were? Think about it John, think about how happy Kate was. Are you not pleased that although they died in our world they are living in happiness in this one. I now understand that we have been afforded a great privilege.'

'And what might that be?' John asked, a touch sarcastically.

'We have been given an insight into a world, another reality, another dimension, call it what you will. Mr K alluded to it when he said that when we choose to stay in Alfie's place instead of returning we die in our world and 'move on', as he put it. I believe that we have been shown the place where we live another life after we die. I may be completely wrong, but don't you think it's absolutely wonderful to know that there is a possibility that we can carry on in some sort of parallel world. We don't have to fear death anymore or fear losing our loved ones or having to leave our loved ones behind.'

John was struggling with the concept but, on reflection had to agree that seeing Kate so happy, although initially hurtful for him, was better than her life just ending the way it did. He suddenly saw her smiling, bright face, full of joy and that was his abiding memory of her. It sort of erased the previous memory he had of holding her broken body. John was now starting to warm to the ideas Jenny had put forward and his anger subsided.

Their awareness of this revelation relieved them both of the burdens they had been carrying for nine years. After they had spent some time reflecting on where this left them and what it meant to them personally, John, with excitement in his voice, suddenly jumped to his feet. 'Let's go and find that gate, we've got some work to do.'

He was definitely happy now and, for that matter, so was Jennifer.

John turned away for a moment to look at the surroundings that brought him so much happiness and, at the same time such heartache, to find that Jennifer was no longer there.
Adversity is the touchstone of friendship.

French proverb

Chapter 11
The pager on the bedside table next to Jennifer suddenly sprang into life. She awoke with a start, taking some time to realise that she had been called back into the real world by the hospital. She remembered the conversation with Peter Grant. Jennifer picked up the phone and rang the hospital number.

'Hi Jennifer, I did warn you that I might have to call you in the middle of the night.' It was Doctor Peter Grant. 'Alfie's vital signs are moving towards dangerous levels. Although they are raised higher than I would like them to be, they are stable. I'm going to hold off calming him down with medication until you get here but if he gets any worse I will have to act.'

'Thanks Peter, I'll be there as quick as I can.' Jennifer's worst fears had materialised; she had been called back, which meant that she could no longer help Alfie where he needed her. John was still there, probably wondering where she was. She was deeply concerned that Alfie was in some sort of trouble. Jennifer knew that whatever was happening beyond the white gate would have an effect on him, hence his changed condition. She was also confident that Alfie would deal with it, whatever it was, but he would need help. She had to get back there as soon as possible.

Jennifer rushed over to the hospital and made her way to Alfie's ward. Peter Grant and Nurse Brannigan were in attendance. Both were stood by the side of Alfie's bed busily monitoring the various readouts from a hyperactive computer screen. The machine was in turn attached to Alfie by a series of cables and tubes and was in danger of becoming detached through his excessive body movements. Nurse Brannigan frantically darted between one connection and another, ensuring that none came adrift.

Jennifer knew intuitively that the problem was not here and now – it was beyond the white gate and she desperately had to get back there.

Peter opened the discussion.

'It's as if he is just having a bad dream but unlike most of us we just wake ourselves up. What do you think Doctor Paige?'

'I believe you are right Peter, and it may get worse before it gets better.'

'How much worse, Jennifer, and why do you think so?'

'I think Alfie is confronting his demons somewhere deep in his subconscious and he does not want to come back here by waking up. It is possible that he feels he cannot resolve the problem here and that's why he remains in this sleep-like state. I've mentioned this to you before; I firmly believe that Alfie has developed another reality in which he can survive.' Jennifer put as much of a psychologist's spin on her explanation as she could. It seemed to work.

'I find it difficult to comprehend, Doctor, but I will bow to your experience and accept what you're saying for the moment. I certainly cannot offer an alternative. The question, however, remains; at what point do I intervene?' Peter Grant had a feeling that Jennifer wasn't giving him the whole picture.

Jennifer responded quickly.

'Alfie should be allowed to continue with whatever he is battling with, wherever he is in his subconscious world. I think that to sedate him now would jeopardise his long-term recovery. If we do tranquillize him, yes, his vital signs will return to normal and he will be restored to a relaxed sleep state; but what next Peter? Will we just wait for the next time he has to be sedated? And how many times will that happen before his physical condition starts to deteriorate? We know that the longer he is left in this comatose environment, the harder it will be for him to recover. There are just two alternatives; bring him out of his self-induced situation or allow him to do what he wants to do in whatever world he has chosen. You know the consequences of the first option, having tried it already. The second option is, I agree, risky, but I believe this option is the one that will allow him to return to the real world voluntarily. He will experience fear and all sorts of emotions that will affect his vital signs here but in my view Alfie has created an inevitable outcome for himself.' Jennifer's argument was powerful and Peter couldn't realistically oppose it.

'I will go as far as I can but if I think his life is in danger, I will take action.'

'Peter, trust me, you must let Alfie deal with this.' Jennifer was unrelenting. 'If you intervene in any circumstance, it will be more of a danger to him than allowing his vital signs to decline beyond a level you would normally allow.'

Peter was now more convinced than ever that Jennifer Paige wasn't telling him all that she knew. 'I do trust you Jennifer and I will agree to what you are asking me to do, but on one condition. You do not hold anything back from me that might impact on my judgement to treat the patient appropriately.'

'I can only give my professional opinion, Peter, and I will endeavour to continue doing that. If anything new emerges from my observations then, of course, I will keep you fully informed.' Jennifer knew that she was being slightly economical with the facts but saw no alternative.

'Yes Peter, when I fall asleep, I meet up with Alfie in his dream world. We then get introduced to The Keeper of this world. Then we move to an alternative reality where those that have died are living normal happy lives, including my dead husband and son.' Jennifer ran through the story in her mind's eye of trying to explain her encounter with John and Mr K, the dreams; how incredible it all was. She concluded that she would be carted off to an institution in making the attempt. She quickly jettisoned the idea of letting Peter in on it.

Peter Grant looked at her with a wry glint in his eye.

'Of course Jennifer, I'm sure you wouldn't knowingly jeopardise the boy's chances of recovery, so it's right that we should continue to work as a team. I've known you for several years and I know how much you suffered your losses. Recently, however, I've seen a significant change in your demeanour and I have to say it makes me very happy to see it. But I hope that whatever it is that is the cause of that change, it isn't clouding your judgement.'

'No Peter, you can rest assured my judgement has never been better.'

Jennifer tilted her head to one side and smiled. Then she put on her serious professional face. 'I know his vital signs are a little higher than you would want but do you think they are sufficiently stable at the moment? If so, I would like to go home and get some of the sleep I've missed.'

'Ok Jennifer, let's hope I don't have to call on you again tonight.'

'I don't think you will need to. Goodnight Peter. I'm taking the day off tomorrow; see you when I see you. Amy, I'll try and get in to see Alfie tomorrow night. Goodnight.'

Jennifer nodded to Nurse Brannigan who by this time had adopted an insightful smile, even though she had no idea what Jennifer was up to. Woman's intuition told her she was up to something.

* * * * * *

John had no idea where Jennifer had gone and was puzzled by her sudden disappearance but he was well aware of the strange things that could happen here. He decided that he would head back to the gate. 'Jennifer or Alfie could be there waiting for me,' he thought. He was baffled as to why they had not met up with Alfie earlier. John soon arrived back at the white gate and noticed that nothing on the other side of it was visible. He deduced that there was a slight risk that when one went through a gate that you couldn't see beyond you didn't know where you were going until after you entered it. It was a little bit like going into a dark elevator and not knowing whether there was a floor to stand on! 'The proverbial step into the unknown,' he smiled wryly as he considered the idea. 'Here goes,' he said to himself as he opened the gate and stepped through. He waited for the whoosh of air that would accompany him dropping like a stone into a void. He was glad to note that as he stepped through the gate, the wonderful vista of the meadow with its multi colours and beautiful sounds were as he remembered when they had left previously. The smell of that stunning red rose invaded his senses and he knew he was back in the right place. He took in deep breaths and gorged on the freshness of the air and the sights of the field of flowers before him. John was mesmerized. 'This truly is a wondrous place,' he said out loud.

'Yes, it is isn't it?' Jennifer had approached from the river.

'Jennifer, where on earth did you go? One minute you were there and the next, gone. I was uncertain whether to stay and wait in the "other" Wensford or come here.'

'I'm glad you came back here John, I probably wouldn't have found my way back there. Anyway, we needed to get back here to find Alfie.' Jennifer didn't want to explain why she had been called back, not just yet anyway. She felt it was important that she kept her professional connection to Alfie quiet for the moment. She was afraid that telling John that she was a clinical psychologist working with Alfie might change the dynamics between them. 'I suddenly found myself back in my bed and had quite a good night's sleep. Don't ask me how or why. Have you seen any sign of Alfie?' she said, changing the subject.

'No, not yet, but I think we should start looking for him. I have a strange feeling he needs us right now.'

Jennifer was certain about that but refrained from saying why she knew that Alfie was presently troubled. She was in little doubt that they would find out soon enough.

As they walked, they were aware that the direction they were going in was purposeful, even though they had no idea of their destination. The pair said little to each other as they proceeded on their way. Suddenly, another white gate came into view. It was identical to the gate they had previously encountered. Once again, there was nothing visible beyond it.

'Do we go through or should we look for Alfie on this side?' John questioned.

'I don't think searching on this side will serve any purpose. It's beyond that gate that I believe Alfie needs our help,' Jennifer replied, looking directly at the gate. There was an overwhelming sense of foreboding. John also got the impression of something ominous in the atmosphere and hesitatingly agreed with her that through the gate was the only way to go. He raised the latch; it felt cold. He slowly opened the gate and invited Jennifer through.

They immediately noticed the chill in the air. There was dampness and a smell of decay. John recognised immediately where they were; they were on the outskirts of Wensford again but this time it was different. The duck pond was now dry and overgrown; the inn was closed and large sheets of plywood covered where the pretty lace-curtained windows had been. Graffiti was everywhere. 'What on earth has happened here Jennifer?' John was shocked. 'This surely can't be the same place.'

'I think it is John, but I'm afraid I can't explain it. Perhaps when we find Alfie, we'll get some answers.'

They tentatively walked towards Wensford. It was not a pleasant walk.

******

Alfie was quiet for some time, his mind racing with questions and fears, trying desperately to understand why his stepfather was here and what he was to do next. 'Why? Why?' he kept asking himself.

'You all right Alfie?' Maisie asked, noticing Alfie's pallor.

'Yes, I'm fine Maisie, thanks. It's just that I used to know someone of that name and we didn't get on very well. I never thought I'd come across him here.'

'Let's hope it's not the same guy for your sake. You really do not want to get mixed up with this Jack Madden.'

Maisie was seriously concerned.

'Maisie, do you know Mrs Thoms across the road?'

'Yes I do, but don't see much of her because she's frightened to go outside her door; the vultures that work for Jack have robbed her and everyone else around here and she's scared witless. Why do you ask?'

'I need to see her. She wouldn't open the door to me when I called earlier and I now understand why. Can you persuade her to talk to me? I promise I intend no harm.'

Maisie was starting to believe that Alfie was indeed a genuine guy and although she found this to be completely alien, it was a breath of fresh air to her. She tucked back the curtain and glanced over to Mrs Thoms' place; the lights were still on.

'We could go over now. Jack's boys will probably be drunk or so full of drugs they won't be too far from their beds.'

Alfie was staggered by how cautious Maisie was in opening her front door and equally tentatively how she walked slowly down her path, glancing one way then the next. She was on her guard as though she was prey waiting to be pounced upon by a stalking hunter. Alfie found the whole scene bizarre. They approached Mrs Thoms' front gate and saw that the front door was partially open. Alfie could see that the lock and security chain had been smashed and movement by several silhouetted figures was visible in the front room. Maisie knew what this meant and grabbed his arm and motioned for him to back off.

'Let's get out of here quick,' she said in a whisper. 'You don't know what these animals are capable of. Let's go now.'

Quietly, and through gritted teeth, Alfie said: 'And what about Mrs Thoms? We can't just leave her.'

'They've probably already done her in and they're going through the house to see if there's anything of value.'

Maisie was frantically pulling on Alfie's arm and urging him away from the house and whatever was going on there.

'How many of these thugs do you think will be in there?'

'Probably two, maybe three,' she said, still dragging on Alfie to move him. But his feet were firmly planted as he stared at the shadowy figures moving around in Mrs Thoms' front room.

He knelt down and pulled Maisie down with him so that they were partly hidden from view. 'Look, Maisie, I cannot let this happen. I'm going to try and stop them and help Mrs Thoms. I want you to go back home and lock your door; do not come out for any reason until morning.'

'But you can't take these animals on, you'll get yourself killed you silly sod.'

She started to raise her voice and Alfie put his finger to her lips to quieten her down. 'Go,' he commanded. 'Please go now; I'm sure I will see you later, trust me.'

Maisie, still stooped, started back towards her house, continually looking back at Alfie. He watched her depart and stood up. Taking a deep breath and clenching his fists tight, he made his way towards the partially open door. He very quietly opened the door further and slid silently into the hallway. He didn't see Maisie return and take up a position just outside the garden wall. He listened carefully for a while and could hear muffled voices. He tried to make out how many there were and thought it was just two. Then he heard Mrs Thoms in a weak voice plead with her intruders.

'Please don't take that, it was my husband's. Please leave it. Please.' She had obviously got hold of the object and was trying to wrestle it from the trespassers' hands. Alfie could see some of what was happening through a slightly ajar entrance door to the room. He heard a thud as the yob backhanded Mrs Thoms across the face and knocked her to the ground.

'Let go you stupid old cow,' he said in a slurred voice as she fell to the floor.

With two strides Alfie had crossed the threshold and before the thug could comprehend what was happening he smashed his fist full in the hoodlum's face with such force that teeth sprayed from his mouth and his nose was well and truly broken. The force of the blow was such that it rocked the lout's head against the stone mantelpiece, smashing his skull in several places. Blood splattered the wall, his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled; slowly he sank to the floor. Alfie turned as he saw the second thug approaching from out of another room; his face in a twisted snarl.

'I don't know who the fuck you are but I'm going to slice you up good.'

A knife blade glinted in his hand. Alfie looked around frantically for something to defend himself but noticed the guy wasn't too steady on his feet; either drunk or drugged. Alfie's anger was immeasurable, having witnessed the two young thugs beat and rob and old lady. He'd already sorted one of them out and now wanted to take this other one apart. The hatred he felt was akin to what he had felt for most of his life towards his stepfather. But now it was magnified tenfold. The thug saw this in Alfie's eyes and, despite his drunken state, started to feel real fear. Alfie stepped forward and looked the lout straight in the eye: 'Come on then, you'd better make sure that you get me first time because you'll only get one chance.'

Alfie said this with such strength and conviction in his voice that he could see the yob believed what he was hearing.

The drunken thug was sober enough to recognise that if he hung around he would come off worse. He dropped the knife and made a dash for the door into the hallway. As he reached for the door, it swung inwards with such violence it smashed into his face. Maisie had returned and sat behind the door. Using both feet, she kicked it with all of her might. Her timing was perfect. The yob slumped to his knees, blood pouring from his face. He now had his back to Alfie who grabbed a handful of the intruder's hair and raised him to his feet. He pushed him hard against the wall, crushing his already broken nose.

'If I ever see you around here again, I swear you'll end up like your friend over there – very smashed up and very dead.'

He banged the thug's head against the wall between each of his following words: 'Do', thud, 'you', thud, 'understand', thud, 'me?' There was a gurgled acknowledgement.

Alfie didn't see Maisie come into the room and pick up the knife. He let go of the now much tenderised tough guy and pushed him firmly towards the exit. As he did so Maisie stepped in front of him and rammed the knife under the thug's ribs and up into his heart. His mouth opened in shock and as he sank to the floor, Maisie spat in his bloodstained face.

'Maisie, what the hell did you do that for? His friend is already dead, that should have been lesson enough for him.'

'He and I go back a long way, Alfie, and I've been waiting to do that for some time. I'll tell you all about it one day, but not now. We need to see to Mrs Thoms and we need to get the bodies out of here.'

'My god, I forgot about Mrs Thoms.'

The old lady had started to stir and when Alfie saw her face he was stunned to see that it wasn't Mrs Thoms; it looked nothing like her.

'Maisie, are you sure that this is Mrs Thoms?'

'Of course I am, I've known her ever since I moved here. Who else did you think she was?'

This was now becoming very complicated and Alfie was completely bewildered. He would have to sort this out later. In the meantime, they had an old lady to tend to and some bodies to dispose of. 'Maisie, you see to Mrs Thoms and I'll dig a hole in the back garden. I somehow think that this trash isn't going to be missed by anyone, so they should be safe and sound out back.'

Mrs Thoms spoke for the first time. Her face was red and swollen and her left eye had started to blacken.

'There are spades in the...'

Alfie interrupted: 'I believe I know exactly where your garden implements are Mrs Thoms, thanks.'

After several hours, Alfie carried out what he had to do. He had buried two lowlifes and repaired the front door. Maisie and Mrs Thoms had cleaned up the house of any telltale signs of a fight, and all was almost back to normal.

'I want to thank you young man for helping me tonight. You have taken a great risk. I have never met you but you seem to know a lot about my home and me. Can you explain that?'

'No, I'm afraid I can't explain a lot of things Mrs Thoms, but I do know I'm here for a reason and perhaps tonight was part of it.' Alfie paused, 'Mrs Thoms, can you describe Frank Stolman for me. Can you remember what he looked like?' The description she gave bore no resemblance to the Mr Stolman Alfie knew. 'What about you Maisie, do you have any recollection of what the Pattersons looked like?' Maisie gave a sketchy outline of Joe and Helen but again the descriptions were nothing like Alfie's memory of them. He was totally mystified. 'If you are ok now Mrs Thoms, Maisie and I will go back to her house; there are things we need to sort out. I don't think you'll be bothered again, but keep your door locked and security chain on. I've fitted a stronger one that I found in your shed. Somehow, we need to put right what's going on in this place.'

Mrs Thoms said that she was shaken but ok.

'How come you're not like the others young man?' she asked as they made their way to leave.

'I guess it's because I'm from a different place,' he replied and closed the door behind him.

Mrs Thoms settled down with a nice cup of tea and felt optimistic for a change.

Earlier, John and Jennifer had walked through the rundown streets until they reached Wensford Secondary School. John recognised it immediately but was shocked by how dilapidated and ramshackle it looked.

'How could this be? Surely, no-one would let this beautiful school go to such rack and ruin.' John was mortified.

'Just remember, John, we're in a different place and we were well aware of that the minute we went through the gate. I wouldn't be surprised at what we find here. I'm certain it's not going to be pleasant whatever it is. We have to find Alfie.'

A light was on in John's office and that intrigued him because he wasn't really here! 'Come on, let's go and see who's there.'

Jennifer was reluctant. 'What if you meet up with yourself? She said half joking.

'Now that would be interesting,' replied John. 'I would want to know what the hell I've done to my school.' he wisecracked.

Despite their flippancy, both were fully aware of the gravity of the task ahead. There was no peaceful, flower-filled, rose-scented meadow now; it was a dank, dark, sinister and threatening environment. They proceeded towards the Headmaster's office and knocked on the door.

'Who is it?' a gruff voice asked.

Jennifer held a finger to her lips, signalling to John not to say anything. 'Can you help us; we're just a bit lost and need to get back to the train station?' Jennifer enquired.

An eye appeared at a peephole in the heavy wooden door and studied them for some time. The removal of several bolts and locks were heard.

'Good god, it's like Fort Knox,' John thought.

The door eventually opened.

'I'm sorry, but we have to be very careful nowadays.' He ushered them both into the office and proceeded to lock the door again, which John and Jennifer found very disconcerting. The man was rather rotund with a ruddy complexion, probably through being too friendly with the whiskey bottle rather than any health and fitness activities. His face was etched with years of stress and his suit was equally stressed. The shirt he wore was rather grubby and his tie loose at the collar. John, seeing the state of the school, was not surprised.

'Do sit down, my name is John Southill, I'm the Headmaster here for my sins. You say you want to get to the station. I'm surprised because we don't often get visitors from other towns.'

John was dumbstruck, so Jennifer took up the introductions. 'I'm Jennifer and this is my partner, Jeremy. We called into Wensford to find some friends who used to live near us and moved here some time ago. We sort of lost touch with them and thought we would try and find them again.'

'Did you find your old friends?'

'No, we're afraid we didn't. We were told that they died some time ago, so were off home again. So Mr Southill, can you direct us to the station please, we'd like to get going before it gets too dark.'

The Headmaster got up and started to unlock the door of its multiple security devices. He opened it and said: 'The station here has been closed for about five years and no-one has ever come here by train since then. So I don't know who you are or why you're here, but I advise you very strongly to leave by whatever means you came here as quickly as you can. I sense that you are not here to cause harm but I warn you this is a dangerous place, so get out while you can.' He shepherded them out of the door and the locks slid and clicked into place once again.

'How bizarre, John, the man looked nothing like you; and the school, it was so derelict, uncared for. And did you notice how nervous the Headmaster was?'

'Yes Jennifer, this place is giving me the shakes. We have to find Alfie and get out of here quickly. Let's find somewhere to sit a while and think this out.' They sat for quite some time and it was dark when John suddenly clicked his fingers and said: 'I know, if Alfie is anywhere then he's probably at Alderman Avenue just around the corner. Let's go take a look.'

'Why would he be there?' Jennifer asked.

'Most of the people he got very friendly with live there. So I think he would try and make contact with them.' As they turned the corner into Alderman Avenue, they could see two figures coming out of Mrs Thoms' gate. John hurried along, tugging Jennifer with him.

'Alfie, Alfie is that you?

Alfie spun around and had to catch hold of Maisie, who was about to make a run for her house.

'John, Jennifer, I'm really glad to see you.' Alfie hugged them both. 'How on earth did you find me? Oh, by the way, this is Maisie?' Alfie looked nervously up and down the street. 'Perhaps we should get out of sight. Is it ok if we all go back to yours Maisie?'

'Of course,' she said, 'you're welcome.'

John was amazed by the utter neglect of the houses and gardens. He knew his students were currently working on these. Alfie must also have been disappointed to see the abandonment of all that he had done in the past.

The group entered the house and Maisie ushered them to the sparse seating in the room. She went to the kitchen to make drinks for them all.

'We must go somewhere where we can talk about what we do next Alfie. Maisie would never understand what is happening and how we have come to be here. Jennifer, do you agree?'

'Yes I do John,' she said in a hushed tone. 'I think we should head back to the gate and plan what is to be done back in the safety of Alfie's place.'

Alfie was in deep thought, weighing up all of the options. 'Ok, I agree, but on one condition. Whatever you decide you want to do must not prevent me from coming back here to finish what I've come here to do, agreed?'

They nodded their agreement as Maisie entered the room with a variety of mugs and cups of hot coffee.

'I used to live over on Rosamond Street. What's it like there now, it used to be very quiet?' Alfie directed his question to Maisie but kept one eye on his two companions to gauge their response.

'Oh, it's fine Alfie. They cleaned that area up a long time ago. The police are on the ball there, so none of the low life we have here would dare go anywhere near it.'

There was lots of small talk but there was no mention of Jack Madden and his reign of terror, least of all by Alfie. At this stage, neither John nor Jennifer had any knowledge of what had happened at Mrs Thoms' tonight.

'Maisie, we're going to leave now; there are things that need my attention away from here. I will certainly be back tomorrow but I'm not sure about my friends because they may have other things to do. Lock your door and keep your head down. And thanks for helping out tonight.'

'Goodbye Alfie, Maisie said, it's you who needs thanking. You helped an old lady tonight and...' she hesitated. 'Well, you know what I mean.' She smiled a smile of real warmth at Alfie. He returned the smile and the group set out on their way back to the white gate.

As they trudged their way through the depressing, unlit streets of Wensford Alfie said: 'Before we go back to the gate, I would like to visit my old house in Rosamond Street,' hoping the others would go with him.

Jennifer responded: 'Why would you want to do that Alfie? Surely that will only revive painful memories?'

'It's something I have to do. Everyone I have met tonight or tried to meet has existed in my other life but here they are different, not the same people.' Alfie explained everything to his puzzled companions about what had happened here. They were shocked and then terrified to learn of Jack Madden's existence and what he was capable of.

Jennifer had a feeling about this and said to John: 'Let's go with Alfie, it's important that we're there for him if he needs us.'

John was mystified; he had no sense that Jennifer was at all concerned. In fact, she appeared to want Alfie to go back to his old home.

'Ok,' he said 'let's go. But let's also hope that we don't regret it. Alfie, are you prepared for what you might encounter?'

'I think so John, but I can't be here and not try to see her again. And yes, I'm prepared for the worst.'

They arrived at Rosamond Street, which looked very similar to the Rosamond Street Alfie had lived in, and waited opposite number 43 but out of sight. A car approached and stopped outside the house. A tall, slim man got out from behind the wheel and went to the rear of the car to lift up the boot. The lady from the passenger side joined him.

Alfie gasped and had to stifle a sob; he had seen his mother. His last image of her covered in blood and badly beaten was suddenly erased. She looked happy and contented. The tall man put his arm around her as she reached in the car for some of the shopping and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled and warmly pushed him away.

Alfie started to walk across the road and John tried to stop him but Jennifer said: 'Let him go John, he needs to do this.'

Alfie broke free of John's grip and walked towards the couple at the car. Tears welled up in his eyes as he approached; he was so pleased to see her again. 'Mum, it's me, Alfie.' He waited for a spark of recognition but there was none.

'I don't know what you're talking about son but I'm not your mum. I don't have any children.' She turned back towards the car and carried on arranging the shopping bags to be easily lifted out.

'But Mum, you must remember, you just can't have forgotten me,' Alfie pleaded with her.

The tall man put the shopping he was carrying down and said to Alfie: 'Look lad, we don't know you and I think you should look somewhere else for your mother. My wife is certainly not her, so I think you should leave because you're starting to upset her.'

John and Jennifer approached the car, put their arms around the crestfallen Alfie and shepherded him away. 'We're terribly sorry but our friend does get a bit confused sometimes. Sorry for troubling you.'

Alfie's companions walked with him in silence and could see the grief and sadness in his face. He was inconsolable so they let him release his grief without interruption. They eventually reached the white gate but waited for Alfie, who was staring back in the general direction of his mother's house. In due course Alfie regained some of his composure. 'What the hell happened back there?' he asked. 'Why didn't she recognise me?'

Jennifer looked at John as she took on the task of describing to Alfie what had happened to them after going through the other gate. Alfie listened attentively to the description of their experience of the train crash that didn't happen, the encounter with John's fiancée and the visit to the park where Jennifer saw her husband and son. 'None of those we loved and lost recognised us. It was devastating for us both at first but then we realised that in this world they were happy; in our world, they were dead. It was a cathartic moment for us both; it liberated us from all the pain we had suppressed for years.'

John added: 'I can't tell you how you should feel Alfie, but what I would ask you to do is this; remember how happy your mother was when you saw her last; hold that picture in your mind and your heart. It will release you.'

'I appreciate what you have both told me and I understand it but I cannot alter what I know and that is that my mother is dead in my world and was killed by Jack Madden. Yes, I understand that she is happy here but I will not be happy until I stop the threat of Jack doing to my mother again in this world what he did before. I cannot risk that happening.'

'I hope you are not considering doing anything rash Alfie.' John looked at him as he would have done in school, slightly down his nose and with a withering stare.

Alfie let the 'Headmaster glare' go over his head.

He was puzzled and asked: 'Why was it that I could see my mother as she was but when I saw Mrs Thoms she was a different person? Also, the description I got of the Pattersons and Mr Stolman bore them no resemblance at all.'

John added: 'Yes, that question is puzzling me too. The Headmaster of Wensford Secondary had my name, sat in my office, in my school, but looked nothing like me.'

'I believe I can resolve that question,' Jennifer answered. 'All of the people that we knew and can see in this world have all been lost to us. They are now living happily in this other reality. The ones we don't recognise are simply still alive in our world. Don't you see; it's not possible to exist in the two worlds at the same time.'

'You know, I think you're right Jennifer,' replied John. 'Mrs Thoms is still going strong and the Pattersons and Mr Stolman are ok, although they're not in the best of health. I'm certainly alive and well, I think! That must explain it.'

'Ok,' Alfie said, 'but how do you explain Jack Madden? He doesn't appear to be anything to do with my mother yet he's here. Is he likely to look different from the Jack Madden I knew or like the one I had the misfortune to call stepfather?'

Jennifer offered an explanation.

'What if the way this works is that if you commit evil in one reality then you are condemned to evil in the other? Logic tells me that the innocent parties like your mum, Alfie, wouldn't be penalised twice, hence her current happy relationship. It's just a theory, but it's the best I can offer for now.'

'I must admit, I'm totally baffled but I'm sure you're right,' John admitted.

The group opened the gate and stepped through from the dark to the light.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter 12
The trio exited the white gate and were once again amongst the meadow of wild flowers in what had now become known as Alfie's place. Red poppies waved in the warm breeze and mingled with various coloured foxgloves, wild orchids nestled amongst the taller flowers; it was a scene of magical colours. Bees and butterflies skipped happily from flower to flower. No-one was more relieved and pleased than John who sucked in the fresh air deep into his lungs. Jennifer also felt some relief and was glad of the respite from, what she thought was, a pretty awful place. Alfie, on the other hand, was pensive and continued to look back at the gate. He was already planning his return. John thought it was important to get him away from here so suggested they walk to the river where they could rest and discuss what they should do next.

The journey to the riverside was so pleasant and peaceful that much of what they had experienced beyond the gates receded to the back of their minds. Alfie's place had a calming effect that seemed to dispel negative thoughts. They arrived at the riverside relaxed and refreshed. The group sat and soaked up the ambience of their surroundings and, although there were plenty of things to discuss, nobody had anything to say. They were happy just sitting, watching the wildlife and listening to the water slide effortlessly over the rocks and pebbles on the riverbed.

Alfie suddenly interrupted the silence. 'If you don't mind I would like to spend some time on my own. I need to think, so I am going back to the oak tree. I've grown very fond of that little spot by the tree and that's where I feel I need to be to get my thoughts straight. I'll find you when I've got things sorted out in my head.' Alfie got up and left.

After his sudden departure Jennifer and John looked at each other in complete surprise.

'I thought we were going to discuss the next steps,' John said, a little annoyed.

'I don't know whether Alfie is starting to seriously consider his future, John.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, it may be that that horrible place we have just come from is where he feels he needs to be. Alfie is driven by a strong desire to help those who are in need. His personal battle now is who needs him most. I think he was rather taken with Maisie and, having seen his mother, he's drawn there. He also has a powerful craving to wreak his revenge on Jack Madden. He doesn't know presently that his stepfather is dead and will not be recognised by him if they meet up, just like the experience we both had. There is also the possibility that another Alfie will cross his path. He may well be Jack's son, and he may not be as nice as the Alfie we know. Unfortunately, I don't think he understands how this all works and, therefore, is in grave danger. We must be available to help him. I am likely to get called back to the hospital the moment Alfie gets involved in any sort of confrontation that creates anxiety in him. That's why you need to be here for him.'

John had listened to everything Jennifer had said but was puzzled by her reference to the hospital. 'What do you mean "get called back to the hospital"? I'm not sure I understand?'

Jennifer realised that she would have to explain her role with Alfie and the hospital. 'John, I'm really sorry that I haven't told you before now but I am a clinical psychologist working in Collingham Hospital. I've been assigned to Alfie especially, for when he returns to consciousness. The hospital team are concerned about his emotional state when he is fully informed about his mother's and stepfather's deaths. They are not sure of how much he knows, but you and I are aware that he does not know that his stepfather is dead.' She gave an account of her discussion with Peter Grant; that they had come to an agreement about Alfie's treatment and how she had been told that she would be required to be at the hospital when called. 'I'm sorry John, but I thought it best that I try to keep my professional role out of our relationship. We were too involved in this dream world of Alfie's and I wasn't sure why. What I do know now is that if Alfie's life signs deteriorate, and they will if he gets involved in that dark place, then Peter will sedate him. That would bring him back to this place and his physical condition would weaken every time that is done. In that event I could be summoned to the hospital at any time of the day or night.' Jennifer paused for a moment, allowing John to absorb what she was saying. 'We know from what The Keeper has told us that Alfie's time here can't be permanent. Sooner or later, he must move on. That means, if he tries to stay where he is he will not recover in his real world but will die there. I believe he mistakenly thinks that moving on will take him to the world where Maisie, his nemesis, Jack Madden, and, of course, his mother currently reside. I'm convinced that will not happen; he will probably end up in a different reality altogether. That's why when I am called back I must prevent Peter from sedating Alfie and you must be with him to try and calm him down.'

'I think I understand what you're saying, Jennifer, and I'm glad you've told me about your connection with Alfie. It explains a lot to me. I've been impressed by how insightful you have been; so, I've always suspected that you were a professional of some sort. Anyway, I am glad you've told me and I do understand why you felt you needed to hold back. It seems to me that we need to explain your theory to Alfie so that he can make a better-informed decision. He has so many friends and people who care for him here. They would be devastated to lose him.' John halted briefly and pensively stroked his chin. 'I have a slightly different idea of what he might be planning, though. What if Alfie only wants to deal with Jack and simply put that demon to rest? If that is done, I think he will come back to us by choice. Of course, dealing with what sounds like a really nasty individual may be extremely dangerous and that is bound to have an effect on Alfie's condition in his hospital bed but I think we will have that problem no matter what path he chooses.'

Jennifer was impressed with John's analysis. 'I think that's quite plausible John, but there's one ingredient you haven't mentioned and that is Maisie. What if Alfie has affection for her; he can't bring her back with him, she's dead in Alfie's world.'

'I really don't have an answer for that one and, to be frank, all of our theories are speculative and, therefore, we've probably more questions than answers. Maybe we should call on The Keeper and see if he can provide any.

'That's a good idea, John, why don't we.'

'I wondered when you two were going to invite me here. I've wanted to sit and relax by this river for ages. It's so beautiful and peaceful, one of my better ideas. I think, don't you?' The Keeper had appeared along with his trademark park bench. John and Jennifer were taken aback. 'Now, before you ask me any questions I think we should sit a while and take in some sunshine, fresh air and just have some quiet time.' Mr K was the first to break the silence. He continued to stare intently into the water lazily passing by whilst he spoke. 'You have both already answered the questions you wished to ask me, apart from the one about the young lady called Maisie. Alfie will indeed need your help both beyond the gate and in his real world, something you've already accepted. You have correctly identified the challenges he will face and the options he has. The theories you have put forward are both correct but which route is taken depends entirely on Alfie, with, I hope, a little help from you. As for Maisie, she has her own path to choose and I'm afraid whilst Alfie will have some bearing on that he will have no influence over it.' He turned to John and Jennifer and said: 'I think you're both doing an admirable job. I shall leave you now to get on with your task.'The Keeper disappeared as quickly as he arrived, not giving them the chance to catch breath, let alone ask questions.

They looked at each other and questioned whether they had the answers they were seeking. They concluded that they didn't, only confirmation that they were asking the right questions. The pair got up to leave and as they did so, the bench vanished.

'I guess he couldn't take it while we were sat on it now could he?' John joked.

They set out to find Alfie but he was nowhere to be seen. So they rested near the oak tree and soon fell asleep.

* * * * * *

The shrill ring of John's bedside telephone woke him from his deep sleep. He groggily reached for the handset and croaked: 'John Southill.'

'It's me Headmaster, Maureen Weston. I thought I'd better ring you because it is 9.30 and I was a bit worried. It's most unlike you to miss assembly.'

'What!' John almost choked. '9.30? What on earth.' He stumbled out of bed still clutching the phone to his ear. 'Was assembly conducted? Tell me that Michael was there to organise it, and are there any messages for me?' John was still stumbling clumsily around trying to find his clothes.

'Yes, yes and no Headmaster, everything is fine. Are you coming in today then?' the secretary said with a slight hint of mockery.

'Yes, I'll be there within the hour, Maureen. I just had a hard day yesterday and probably did too much jogging last night; must have got a bit overtired.'

'Of course Headmaster,' she said with a slightly perceptible note of cynicism. I'll tell the deputy head that you will be in.'

The phone clicked off and Maureen sat back and smiled at the thought that she may have caught her very meticulous Headmaster with his pants down. She chastised herself for thinking such thoughts because secretly she hoped he had found someone that would make his life a little less work and a bit more fun.

John breezed past Maureen who was sat looking very busy. She deliberately didn't lift her eyes from her work just as she would not do on a normal day, but she said: 'Good morning Headmaster,' as though everything was indeed normal.

'Good morning, Maureen. Thank you for calling me,' he said embarrassingly, without stopping until he got through his office door. He closed it behind him, sat down and took a deep breath. Looking around, he compared his surroundings to those that he had visited in the other place. There were no bolts and locks on the door, no bars on the windows; everything was clean and tidy. He took another deep breath, leaned back with his hands behind his head and was glad that he was in this world and not the other one. He managed to get through a pile of paperwork before lunch then spoke to Michael, who briefed him on how things were going at Alderman Avenue with the student volunteers. His next job was to see Mrs Thoms. Walking through the school grounds and then onto Alderman Avenue, he marvelled at how clean and orderly everywhere was. Having seen the other place, he felt really lucky and in high spirits, knowing that there was a third place where his deceased fiancée had another life and one where she was blissfully contented. He really felt the weight of grief had been lifted at last. His thoughts fleetingly went to Jennifer; he tried to analyse how their lives had intertwined in such a weird way. He arrived at Mrs Thoms' gate.

'Hello Mr Southill, it's lovely to see you.'

Mrs Thoms had opened her door having seen John coming down her path.

'Come in, come in, I'll make a nice cup of tea.'

John sat down in the deep armchair and watched Mrs Thoms as she went through her tea-making ritual. She returned with a tea tray loaded with biscuits and her famous iced buns. John was quite hungry, having not had lunch, so he didn't waste any time indulging himself.

'Everything is going really well,' Mrs Thoms started. 'The children, or should I say students - they keep correcting me - are simply marvellous. The work they have done and their approach to it is a pleasure to see, especially in this day and age when they are criticised so much. You should be very proud of them. The people around here, especially the Pattersons and Frank Stolman, are overwhelmed by their kindness. Mr Stolman has recovered and is as bright as a button. They're all praying hard for Alfie's recovery.'

'I am indeed very proud of them and thank you for your kind comments. I will pass them on to all of the students at assembly tomorrow. I'm sure it will be motivational for the school as a whole.'

John and Mrs Thoms exchanged various ideas of how other students could get involved in this sort of work and John was already seeing the rewards of what Alfie had started. He bade Mrs Thoms farewell and said he would call in again in a couple of day's time. 'If there are any problems and you can't get hold of me, please don't hesitate to speak to my deputy, Michael Cochran.' He went back to the school for a few hours and then hurried over to Collingham Hospital.

Jennifer wasn't surprised she had woken up in her own bed; she was getting to know the process. She lay for a short time thinking about what had gone on with Alfie and particularly his encounter with his mother. She knew how she felt when she first saw the husband and son that she believed she would never see again. Jennifer suspected that they would not recognise her because she had already deduced that might happen after the experience with John's fiancée. Alfie, on the other hand, had not figured it out and it must have been extremely painful for him. Her thoughts drifted to Alfie's place; wonderful aromas of roses and wild flowers suddenly permeated her bedroom and she almost fell asleep again. She jolted herself into a sitting position and decided she must get to the hospital, deal with her day job and then visit Alfie.

Peter Grant was examining Alfie's medical notes as Jennifer entered the ward.

'Hello Peter,' she said chirpily. 'How is the young man today?'

'He seems to be stable Jennifer and let's hope he stays that way. You appreciate that there is a limited time that he can be maintained in this state without there being some deterioration in his physical condition. There will be muscle wastage and an ever-increasing risk of infection. I hope your assessment is correct and that we get a result soon.'

'Yes, of course I understand your concern Peter, and I am aware of the potential problems, but I'm confident that he will return to consciousness of his own accord before any lasting physical damage, although he may face some traumas on the way. He needs to face the ordeal of those traumas himself and without our intrusion. I know that it is difficult to accept but, trust me, Peter, I am convinced about this.' Jennifer spoke with unequivocal conviction.

Amy Brannigan popped her head in the doorway. 'We have a visitor for our patient Doctor, is it alright for him to come in?'

'Yes, of course, Amy, we're about to finish up here.'

John stepped into the ward and both his and Jennifer's mouths fell open. This was the first time that they had met each other in the flesh, so to speak.

John spluttered: 'Hello Jennifer.'

She gathered herself and said: 'Hi John, wow, it's a long time since we last met, how are you? Apologies Doctor Grant, this is an old friend of mine from way back.'

John was impressed by Jennifer's swift turn of foot. 'Doctor Grant and I have already met. He was kind enough to allow me to see Alfie even though I wasn't a relative. How is he, Doctor?'

'He's stable Mr Southill, but there hasn't been any improvement I'm afraid.'

Peter didn't really believe the show of surprise by Jennifer and Alfie's visitor but guessed that their meeting here wasn't intended. He was happy for Jennifer if this man was the cause of her sudden change in behaviour and her obvious high spirits, although he couldn't understand why they would want to keep it a secret.

'I didn't realise you worked here Jennifer; I'm surprised we haven't bumped into each other earlier. Why don't we have a coffee after I've spent a little time with Alfie and talk over old times?'

'Yes, that would be nice John; I'll be here for another hour or so. If you can't find me here, get one of the nurses to call my office. I'll probably be there.'

John sat with Alfie and, as usual, he gently took the boy's hand in his. Alfie's breathing was normal; shallow, but regular. John suddenly noticed a rise in the rate of his breathing, his hand gripped John's tightly and he became restless. John became concerned and summoned the nurse. Amy Brannigan quickly examined Alfie's vital signs and everything was going in the wrong direction. 'I'll get Doctor Grant. I'm afraid you'll have to leave, Mr Southill.'

Peter Grant stepped purposefully into the ward with Jennifer as John was leaving.

'I'll be in the waiting room,' John said. 'I'd be grateful if you would let me know what is happening.'

Peter examined Alfie and noted that his temperature had risen; his pulse was racing and his blood pressure was much higher than it had been. None were at a dangerous level yet.

'Remember what we agreed Peter, please don't do anything to calm him down, he needs to get through this by himself,' Jennifer urged.

'Yes, I know Jennifer, and fortunately, although he is obviously distressed, all of the readings seem to have levelled out now; despite them being still too high for my liking. We will continue to monitor the situation. Don't go too far away Doctor; I am still unsure about how far I can let this go.'

'I'll just go and brief John - I mean Mr Southill.'

Jennifer made her way to the waiting room where she found John. 'Something has happened, I think Alfie has gone back through the gate. You need to get there as soon as you can and when you catch up with him, you must calm him down.'

'What's this I must get back there and calm him down, are you not coming with me?'

'I can't. While Alfie is displaying these signs of disturbance, Peter is insisting that I stay close to hand in case he needs to take action. I need to be here to stop him doing just that. You have to find Alfie and get him to understand that he will be brought back here if he is sedated.' Jennifer stepped forward and took John's hands in hers. 'I know I'm asking a lot, John, but I don't see an alternative. I will join you at the first opportunity I get.'

'Yes, of course Jennifer, you're right. I need to be there, especially if my theory is correct and Alfie is going to confront his stepfather.'

Jennifer was still holding John's hands and for the first time their eyes met in a different way than ever before.

Suddenly the door opened.

'Oops, sorry you two; didn't mean to barge in on you.' It was Peter. The pair sharply let their hands go like children that had been caught in the sweetie jar; their faces slightly reddened. 'Just thought I'd let you know that Alfie's vital signs are stable enough for me to let things stand. We're just going to keep an eye on him now. I should leave you two to carry on, as it were. Sorry for interrupting.' Peter quickly disappeared out of the door.

John and Jennifer looked seriously at each other for a moment and then disintegrated into fits of laughter.

After they regained their composure, John said: 'I guess I should go home and get ready to visit Alfie; there's a roller coaster ride ahead of me, I have no doubt.' He looked directly into Jennifer's eyes and said: 'I hope that when we get the chance we can spend some time together.'

'Yes, I hope so too, John, that would be wonderful. Good luck and I'll see you soon. Be very careful.'

There was a sparkle in Jennifer's eyes but genuine concern in her voice.

'I will, don't worry,' John assured her.

* * * * * *

Alfie didn't take too long to find his way back to the gate, nor did he hesitate to go through it. He walked quickly towards Alderman Avenue and headed straight for the Pattersons' house, where Maisie was now living. As he knocked on the door, he saw the curtain at the window move slightly and within less than 30 seconds the door was hurled open and Maisie launched herself at Alfie, throwing her arms around his neck. 'Alfie, I'm so glad you've come back,' she shrieked excitedly.

Alfie was stunned, but pleasantly so. He hadn't reciprocated her hug and was a bit embarrassed by this overt show of affection. He gently took her arms from around his neck and with a slightly nervous smile said: 'Glad to see you too Maisie, just thought I'd call in to say hello.'

Maisie was suddenly aware that she had probably been a bit overenthusiastic and had not been able to contain her fondness for this unique young man. She stepped back with her head bowed to shield her embarrassment. 'I'm sorry Alfie, I didn't mean to make you feel uneasy, it's just that...'

Alfie interrupted to save her blushes. 'It's ok Maisie, it was a lovely welcome and I don't feel at all uncomfortable. Am I going to be invited in?' he asked light-heartedly.

'Of course, of course,' she said rather relieved at the way Alfie had reacted and ushered him into the lounge. There was an uncomfortable silence for a short time. Maisie avoided looking at Alfie and casually glanced around her sparsely furnished room. Alfie however, looked directly at Maisie and was able to study her features for the first time. Despite the absence of make-up, she was a very attractive girl; she had shiny auburn hair and hazel eyes, a small mole on her left cheek and a lovely smile. Her drab clothes did her very trim figure no justice and it was clear that she had lived through some rough times. He was lost for a moment and Maisie suddenly became aware of Alfie's eyes upon her.

'What you staring at me for?' she said tersely.

'I'm sorry,' Alfie replied. 'I was miles away. I'm sorry for staring at you. I was puzzled why you would want to stay in a place like this.'

'I don't have a choice, where else could I go?'

'I just think you deserve to be in a better place than this. From what I can see, it's horrible here, especially with that lowlife around.'

'You learn to survive here Alfie, that's all you can do.'

'Did you go anywhere nice when you went back then?' she asked Alfie, changing the subject.

'Not really, I went to see my old house in Rosamond Street and then went back home for a short time.'

'Maisie, will you do me a big favour? Will you show me where Jack Madden lives?'

The request came out of the blue and took Maisie by surprise. 'No way Alfie. I'm not going anywhere near that evil bastard and I certainly wouldn't take you there.' Maisie was clearly agitated. She started to tremble and Alfie immediately crossed the room and put his arm around her.

'Ok, ok, we won't go anywhere near him. I'm sorry, I didn't realise it would upset you so much.' Will you come across the road to see Mrs Thoms with me?' he asked, gently patting her shoulder.

Maisie didn't say anything but nodded her head.

With Maisie's composure now recovered, they walked out towards Mrs Thoms' house. It was early evening and a shadowy hue cast an ominous tone on the evening air. Alfie was not concerned but Maisie looked anxious.

As they approached the gate, Maisie froze. Two young men came from the opposite direction and one of them shouted across. 'What's up Maisie?'

She knew both of them as Chopper and Shinzy, two of Jack's boys, and not very nice ones either.

Alfie could see that they were quite dirty individuals; they probably hadn't seen a bath for god knows how long. As they got closer, their clothes and personal hygiene confirmed his suspicions. There were heavy, dark rings around their eyes, which were set deeply into their skulls. Their fingernails were filthy and bitten to the quick and their clothes had seen better days. Alfie looked on them with utter disdain and thought: 'These lowlifes probably spend all the money they have on drink and drugs. What a waste.' His loathing for these creatures was evident, especially as he knew what sort of monstrous crimes they would willingly commit to feed their habits.

'Who's the stranger, bitch; this your new boo?' One of them spat through his smoke-stained teeth whilst staring aggressively at Alfie. 'Spike will not be too happy about it. By the way, we're looking for Spike and Mousy; have you seen them? They didn't come back to their pits last night and they've not shown up this morning? It's not like them to miss their daily vitamin rations, if you know what I mean.'

Alfie started to respond and Maisie interrupted. 'He's a friend from out of town, and no, he's not my boo. He's just visiting this old lady that lives here; he knows her from way back. And I haven't seen either of them, I'm glad to say. So, see you around Shinzy.'

Maisie opened the gate and walked towards Mrs Thoms' front door. Alfie started to follow but one of the yobs stepped in his way. 'Hope you're not planning to hang around here dude; you could get yourself in serious trouble. The boss doesn't like strangers on his patch.'

Alfie's hackles rose; he lifted Shinzy off his feet by his grubby shirt and planted him firmly out of his way. Chopper made a move toward Alfie but saw the look on his face and thought better of it. 'I don't take kindly to threats shit head; now get out of my way.' There was a loathing and venom in Alfie's tone that made the two thugs wither. They quickly moved away, but Shinzy shouted when he was sufficiently out of reach.

'Don't be around here tomorrow pal 'cause you'll get what's coming to ya.'

Alfie made a pretence to chase after them and they ran away like scared rabbits.

'That was a big mistake Alfie; you don't know what these arseholes are capable of. They're cowards so they won't confront you; they'll come for the old lady who lives here, or me because you know us both. Please, no more heroics, eh.'

'I won't let them harm you or Mrs Thoms, Maisie. But tell me what was your connection with Spike? You said you would tell me.'

'Later,' she said. 'I'll tell you later.'

Mrs Thoms was reluctant to open the door until she was sure that they were who they said they were. Her face looked very bruised and she was still shaken by the events of the previous night but she was glad that Alfie and Maisie had dealt a blow to the brutes that had invaded her home and attacked her.

Alfie's pulse raced as the anger inside him welled up. He regretted not dealing more harshly with the hooligans that confronted him outside.

They stayed a little while with Mrs Thoms. Alfie wanted to know what had happened to Mr Stolman and whether she knew where Mrs Patterson was.

Peggy told them 'Frank Stolman tried to stand up to the scum that roam the streets here and was severely beaten up. No-one saw it, and if they did, they wouldn't speak about it. He spent weeks in hospital but never really recovered; apart from his injuries he contracted pneumonia and died. I don't know what happened to Helen Patterson after she left.'

'What about the police?' Alfie asked, 'did they find his attackers?'

Mrs Thoms laughed. 'You cannot be serious young man; most of the police are paid to turn a blind eye to what goes on around here.'

'Are you saying that every copper is on Jack Madden's payroll?'

'Not all of them Alfie,' Maisie said, 'there's one I know who isn't bent – DS Adams. He's one of the old school, but I don't know whether he's out there on his own or if he has any friends to support him. One thing is certain; he's in constant danger of being done in by his own kind.'

'How come you know about him Maisie?'

'I had cause to be taken to the station. It's not important why, but I was being questioned by a couple of Jack's tame coppers who were demanding certain favours. I refused and they started to come on heavy to me. Charlie Adams intervened and stopped them. He gave one of them such a kick in the crutch that I think he would have been out of action in that department for some time.'

Mrs Thoms laughed loudly at the thought.

Maisie continued: 'Charlie Adams saved me that night and I've spoken to him a few times since. He's made it clear to me that his aim in life is to put Jack Madden out of action and clean up this sewer once and for all. Problem is, he's short on troops and some people in high places are being difficult; he knows why too. So he has to be very careful.'

They decided to continue their conversation at Maisie's house, so, having said goodnight to Mrs Thoms, they left.

Alfie and Maisie talked late into the night. Alfie needed to know more about this Wensford so he tended to ask the most questions. Maisie occasionally pitched in the odd enquiry about Alfie, but he avoided giving too much away.

'So, are you going to tell me about Spike?'

'Look, when I was knocking about with that crowd, a girl didn't get a choice about boyfriends; you were chosen. Girls were like trophies. Spike chose me. He got me using drugs and I was all messed up. I had to do most of the 'running' for Jack and was paid in kind. I hated him and Spike for what they did to me and eventually I got out of it. It took me a year and it was the hardest year of my life. I lived rough most of the time, begged on the streets and sold whatever I could to live, if you know what I mean.'

She looked to Alfie for a response.

'Aren't you shocked?'

'No Maisie, not shocked just angry that you had to put up with all that stuff,' Alfie replied.

It was getting late and Maisie said she would like to get some sleep. Alfie agreed and offered to settle down on the settee in the lounge. Maisie lowered her eyes and asked: 'Alfie, would you mind terribly if we could lie down together? I'm not expecting you to do anything, honest,' she added hurriedly. 'I would just like to lie next to you. I promise that's all I want.'

It was a proposition Alfie had never encountered before but he followed her up to her bedroom and they lay on the bed fully clothed. Alfie put his arm underneath Maisie's head and she nestled into the crook of his arm. She then wriggled about until her body was neatly moulded against his. Alfie felt the wetness of her tears as she quietly cried. He lifted her face towards him. 'What's the matter? Why the tears?' he asked.

Maisie shook her head. 'There's nothing the matter Alfie, it's just that I can't remember when I felt so secure and warm and well... you smell so clean,' she joked.

They laughed and Maisie snuggled up to Alfie's solid frame and fell asleep. They were woken by loud knocking at the front door. Alfie darted from the bed and tried to see from the bedroom window who might be there. He couldn't quite make out the figure standing on the path. Maisie came over and said she would get a better view from the lounge window. They went downstairs quietly and Maisie tucked the curtain back just a fraction. 'It's John,' Maisie shouted. 'You know, the one that came with you when you were here before.'

Alfie was relieved and opened the door.

'Am I glad to see you Alfie, I've been wandering around here for hours. Hi Maisie.'

'Hi John, nice to see you again. Hope you didn't see any of the local lowlife on your travels'

'There were a couple of times when I had to dive into a garden or behind a tree when I saw a few of them approaching. Luckily, they didn't see me. I was glad to have remembered where Maisie was living.'

'Maisie, why don't you go on up to bed and get some sleep. I need to catch up with John on one or two things.'

Maisie looked disappointed but said: 'Ok, I'll see you guys in the morning.'

Alfie recounted his discussion with Maisie and her information about Detective Sergeant Adams. He wanted to meet with him as soon as possible and said it would be a good idea for John to also come with him. But how this might be arranged would be difficult. 'I will ask Maisie tomorrow if she will contact him on our behalf,'

John realised the implications of what Alfie was suggesting. 'Just a minute, you're surely not suggesting we get mixed up with what's going on here. From what I can gather, there's police and political corruption and some very nasty individuals supporting it. I thought you just wanted to confront your stepfather. To be honest, I don't think even that is a good idea, but I have made a commitment to help you and help you I will. But Alfie, you cannot fight the wider battle here. You, or rather we, are not equipped. Now I need you to calm down and think this out very carefully.'

Alfie looked crestfallen and knew John was right.

'But John, I need to do something,' he said despairingly. 'I've been brought here for a reason and I'm sure it's to help the people in this neighbourhood. You have yet to be confronted by the scum I've already had the misfortune to meet and, believe me, they have no morals, no respect for the law or for other people. They have to be stopped. As for Jack Madden, I really don't know how I can deal with him, but I'm sure the answer will come. I would like us to go back to the gate and speak to The Keeper. Perhaps he can help?'

'Ok Alfie, first thing in the morning let's do that.'

To John's utter surprise, Alfie said goodnight and went upstairs to Maisie. He lay down beside her and she immediately nestled up to him without waking and made quiet noises of contentment. He smiled, tucked his arm gently under her neck and let her get closer to him and quickly fell into a deep sleep.

In dream consciousness, we make things happen by wishing them because we are not only the observer of what we experience but also the creator.

Pir Vilayat Khan

Chapter 13
John and Alfie reached the white gate the next morning and stepped into the world of The Keeper. Alfie called out: 'Mr K,' and waited. It wasn't long before he appeared in his unique way along with his distinctive wooden slatted bench. He sat in his usual pose, hunched forward, leaning on his stout walking stick.

'Well gentlemen,' he started, 'you appear to want some answers. But you must know that if I could give the answers you want, there would be no point in you being here, would there? Alfie, you have the answers within you and I believe you have already chosen your path. I can't tell you whether it's the right one or not; only you have that power. John, because your function here is not of your making, you were brought here by me through Alfie, so I can tell you that you are protected. Now if you will excuse me gentlemen I have booked myself some chill-out time by the river.' He was gone almost as soon as he finished speaking.

'I do wish he wouldn't do that,' John said in a frustrated tone. 'I'm always in the process of opening my mouth when he disappears. I never get the chance to ask him a question.'

Alfie smiled and realised Mr K was right; he knew exactly what he had to do. What he didn't know was how.

John looked at Alfie.

'So, what now Master Madden?'

'I think we should go back and see Maisie.'

'Do you not think I might be in the way,' John remarked, with a mischievous smile on his face.

'It's not like that, really. Maisie and I are just good friends. I think she should be able to get us a meeting with Sergeant Adams.'

Alfie's cheeks had reddened slightly.

John became more serious. 'We need a cover story. The first thing he will ask is where do we come from and why we are interested in Jack Madden? We cannot use our surnames, given that we know they exist in this world. I've already met my namesake here. So, let's spend some time putting a story together.'

The duo sat quietly for several minutes before John spoke. 'How about we come from Bletchford, that's far enough away. We can say we knew Mr Stolman when he lived there. We were horrified to find that he had been attacked and shortly after had died. We want to know why no-one was arrested or charged with the attack. I don't think we need to mention Jack at this stage; it will be sufficient to say that we are here to ensure that there was a police investigation and we want to know the outcome of that inquiry. I can say I am a distant relative of Mr Stolman and I'm also a journalist; you are with me as a travelling companion. My surname is Carter and yours is Mills. What do you think about that for a starter?'

'It sounds fine but how will that get us closer to Jack?'

'If Adams is what Maisie says he is, a clean copper, I believe he will want to tell us exactly what happened to Frank Stolman. When he talks of the beating he received, which he undoubtedly will, we can ask questions like: "Do you know who was responsible, even if you can't prove it? Are they still in the town and, if so, why are they not behind bars?" We can say we have talked to neighbours of Frank and tell him what they have told us, things like how they have terrorised the old people in the area. We might even embellish it a bit, I'm sure that the subject of Jack and his lowlife gang will have to come up.'

'Then what?' Alfie was having trouble keeping up with John's plan.

'I don't know Alfie; if we get that far with him we'll have to go with the flow. He may be too frightened to tell us too much or he may open up and welcome the chance for outsiders to get involved. Telling him that I am a journalist may encourage him to be more amenable. Let's give it a try. Come on; Maisie will be on tenterhooks waiting to see you.' John teased Alfie, who immediately went on the defensive.

'I told you we're just good friends.'

John had almost forgotten how impossible the situation would be if Alfie did get to be more than just good friends with Maisie. He quickly checked himself and made a mental note to discourage rather than encourage such a liaison; his teasing banter could be seen as an endorsement.

They stepped through the gate and made their way to Maisie's house.

There was no hesitation from Maisie as she saw Alfie and his friend approaching; she got to the door long before they could knock and welcomed them in. She was obviously very pleased to see Alfie particularly.

John turned to Maisie when they had settled down: 'I know you don't want to have anything to do with Jack Madden but I need to know a little bit of what he is like.'

Maisie held her hand up. 'Stop right there, I do not want to talk about that man, he makes my skin crawl.'

'Let me explain, Maisie. I'm aware of what he and his paid helpers allegedly did to Frank Stolman, who was a distant relative of mine, and as a journalist I would dearly love to expose this guy and, if possible, help to get him thrown behind bars where he belongs.'

Alfie didn't like the lies but recognised that if he was to see DS Adams the cover story had to be solid. Given the circumstances of where they really came from and how they got here, it would stretch even the most fertile imagination.

'I don't even like thinking about that animal but if it will help to send him and the scumbags who work for him down then ok. What do you want to know?' Just one thing,' she added quickly. 'Nothing of what I do tell you must ever get back to him or his cronies; I would be seriously dead the minute he found out.'

'I promise Maisie; whatever you say will be kept between just the three of us.' John never broke a promise, up until now at least. 'So what does he look like? Does he have any people close to him, any family? Do you think anyone knows how he funds his corruption activities?'

Before she spoke, Maisie thought carefully for a while about the questions she was being asked. John and Alfie had no idea just how much she knew about Jack and his operation and she had decided that she would be cautious with what she divulged. 'No benefit in being reckless,' she thought. 'He's a big guy and an ugly so and so but thinks he's God's gift. The girls he has following him around don't mind his ugly mug because of his control of the drugs they need. He owns the patch so they can't get them anywhere else. They know if they're nice to him, they'll get paid in kind. He has a son; I think he's called Al, he's about fourteen and the poor kid is terrorised by his old man. There were a few times when I saw that the boy had taken a thrashing from Jack; there were marks on the kid's face and arms.'

The expression on Alfie's face was one of total shock at the realisation that she may be talking about his other self.

'What's the matter Alfie? Maisie asked. 'You ok?'

Alfie recovered quickly.

'I'm fine, carry on, please.'

'Anyway,' Maisie continued but still looked at Alfie, 'I felt really sorry for the kid. On one occasion, I caught him in the garden of his house looking very sorry for himself. I put my arm around him and he completely went to pieces. He was sobbing and it seemed to me that he hadn't ever been shown any affection in his whole life. I don't know what happened to his mother; she was never seen. As I was comforting the boy, Jack bellowed, in his usual bad-tempered way: "Al, get in here now. Al, you hear me, boy? Get in here." The lad stiffened and shouted: "Coming Dad." As he left he mouthed: "Thank you" to me and ran into the house. Everyone is scared of Jack Madden, but his own son for Christ's sake! In my opinion, if you want to know who would know Jack's business, look to his son.' Maisie failed to mention that she actually knew more about Jack than anyone.

'You told Alfie about DS Adams. How sure are you that he isn't bent, Maisie?'

'Oh, I'm pretty certain. He's one of the few not listed in Jack's book and there are...' Maisie clammed up quickly when she realised what she had said.

'What book's that Maisie?' John asked with a raised eyebrow.

'It's nothing, just a book he keeps; shouldn't have mentioned it; just leave it.' Maisie became tense. 'I've got nothing more to say about it.'

'Does Detective Sergeant Adams know about the book?'

'No. I don't know. Just leave me alone.' She started to cry and Alfie said: 'Leave her John, she's had enough.' He reached across and put his arm around her.

John turned to Maisie. 'I don't know what you've been through Maisie, but I understand your reluctance to speak about him. But we have to stop this thug from doing any more damage to people around here. Can you arrange for us to meet DS Adams?'

She had now calmed down and appeared a little more in control. Alfie eased his arm from her shoulder and she sat upright, contemplating the request that had just been made. Following a long silence, she responded. 'Can you promise me faithfully that you will not say anything about what I have told you? None of it came from me, ok?'

'Absolutely, Maisie. We promise nothing you have told us will go beyond Alfie and me.'

She looked at Alfie and waited for a response, for some sort of assurance.

Alfie faced her and looked straight into her eyes. 'I promise I won't let you down, Maisie.'

She trusted Alfie. 'Ok, I'll speak to Charlie. I mean DS Adams, and organise a meeting. He helped me get through the year I told you about when I broke free from that sewer I was living in. I don't ever want to go back there Alfie.' She looked at him beseechingly, her eyes full of fear at the thought of a relapse back to the life she hated. Maisie shuddered then continued: 'Anyway, we used to meet at the disused railway station. It was out of the way and we were unlikely to be seen. I think that's where you should meet if he agrees. I need to go out and phone him, so if you want to stay here until I get back, you're welcome to.' Maisie put on a coat and left.

Alfie turned to John. 'I really don't like using her like this, she's been through enough.'

'But you need to remember Alfie, it was your choice to come here and sort out Jack Madden, both for what he has done to you and for what he is doing here to Maisie and others who live in this town.'

'Yeah, I guess you're right, but it doesn't make me feel any better.'

It was quite some time before Maisie returned. 'Damn telephones, none of them are working, they've all been trashed. I had to walk for miles to find one. I eventually spoke to DS Adams and he's very unsure about meeting you; he trusts no one because he believes that he could be being set up by people who are keen to ensure that he doesn't expose them. Anyway, I persuaded him that you're ok and he agreed to meet tomorrow night at eight.'

'Thanks Maisie, we'll get going now and come back tomorrow. That ok with you?' John felt he needed to get Alfie away because he could sense a growing attachment, particularly from Maisie towards Alfie.

Maisie looked disappointed but said in a chirpy voice: 'Yeah, that's fine fellas, but you're welcome to crash out here if you want to. If not, I'll see you tomorrow.'

Alfie was about to take Maisie up on her offer but John was quicker off the mark. 'That's very kind of you but we have some things to attend to back in Bletchford. My car is parked over at Rosamond Street so we need to get over there to pick it up. We should be able to get to Bletchford and back in good time before our meeting.' John beckoned to Alfie to leave.

Outside, Alfie was furious. 'What the hell are you doing? Where are we going? And what's this about your car?'

John turned to Alfie apologetically.

'I'm really sorry Alfie, putting you on a spot like that but I really believe that you shouldn't be building too strong a relationship with Maisie. When you have completed what you have come here to do, you will leave this place; Maisie will get on with living her life here and you will be back in your own world. She cannot come back with you and you cannot stay here. So what I am doing in keeping you two apart is in both of your interests. I know it's harsh but trust me Alfie, it's the only way.'

'What if I choose to stay here and be with Maisie? After this place is cleaned up, it should be no different from where I have come from. Even though my mother doesn't know me here, at least I know her and she is alive and happy. So there are lots of reasons why I should stay here.'

John had to agree with Alfie, but he knew from The Keeper that that wasn't Alfie's destiny; it would not be the same place. 'I suggest we go back through the gate and perhaps we can meet up with Mr K, who might be able to give you an explanation.

******

Jack Madden's face contorted in rage as he remonstrated with two of his 'soldiers', as he liked to call them. 'Where the hell are Spike and Mousy? They've been missing for nearly two days,' his thundering voice bellowed at Shinzy and Chopper. 'I sent you out to find them and you come back here and say they're nowhere to be seen. My people don't just disappear, they've either been topped or they're in the lock up.' Jack went very quiet and menacing. 'If they've been locked up then someone is in big trouble; they could be blabbing.' He put his face close to Shinzy's. 'If they have been picked up by the local constabulary, I will know about it soon enough and I'll sort it out. Find out where they are boys or you're the ones who will be in big trouble; get my drift. Now move your arses.'

'Sorry boss,' Shinzy said, quivering. 'We did look everywhere for them.'

Jack snarled: 'can't have been everywhere because you obviously didn't look in the place where they could be found you, idiot. Now get out of my sight.'Jack phoned one of the senior coppers on his payroll; it was time they earned their corn.

The phone rang in the Detective Inspectors office. 'DI Morrison here, how can I help?'

'Hello David, how is my friend the Detective Inspector today? It's Jack here.'

DI Morrison knew exactly who it was as soon as he heard the voice; it sent a chill down his spine. David Morrison had been taking brown envelopes filled with dirty money from Jack Madden for some time and now bitterly regretted it, but it was too late; he was in hock to the crook. 'What do you want Jack?' he said sharply. He was in his pay but that didn't mean he had to be nice to him, David thought.

'Nothing dramatic David I promise, just some information which I'm sure you'll find easy enough to get hold of. Two of my boys have been missing for a couple of days and it's very unlike them. Spike and Mousy; sorry I don't remember their surnames but I'm sure your establishment will know them. I wondered whether they might have been picked up by some of your boys who may not be aware of our arrangement. If they have been lifted then I'd like to know what they've been charged with, where they're being held and who made the arrest.' There was a definite menace in Jack's voice.

'I'll need half an hour or so and then I'll get back to you.' David Morrison put the phone down without waiting for a response from Jack. He hated himself for getting involved and tried desperately to find a way out but he was well and truly locked in. A nice house, flash car and a better than most DI's lifestyle were good at first, until he had to start paying the piper. Each time Jack called on him his self-loathing became more and more intense.

Jack Madden was starting to get worried about DI Morrison; each time they spoke lately, there was something about the tone of his voice he didn't like.

DI Morrison picked up his intercom phone and flicked on the connection switch to the CID office. 'Charlie, can you come up and bring the arrest sheets for the last couple of days with you.'

Charlie Adams was puzzled at what was an unusual request. The DI could look up the electronic record easily enough. If all he wanted was an update, he would just ask about a particular job and who they had collared. Despite his bewilderment, Charlie gathered the appropriate folder that contained mandatory copies of the record of each arrest and made his way to his boss's office. He knocked on the door and entered without waiting. 'Hello David, what's all this about then?' He handed the folder to his inspector.

'Just something I wanted to check on Charlie, nothing special.' He ushered Charlie out of the office. 'I'll let you know if I need anything else, thanks.'

Charlie stood with his back to the office door that was now closed behind him for a moment and pondered what it was that seemed to be troubling his superior. His boss looked pale and drawn; it was unusual for him to be so withdrawn and even more unusual not to spend some time chewing the fat with his old friend. They had come through the force together, from being young coppers on the beat to where they were today. He had never seen him like this. Charlie went back to his office and persuaded himself he would confront David as a friend rather than his senior later that day, or at the next opportunity.

David Morrison picked up the phone and dialled the number that created such nausea in the pit of his stomach every time he had to do so; he spoke to Jack Madden. 'Your boys were not picked up by any of my team and they are not here.' He knew he was doing wrong even talking to this crook rather than arresting him and it made him sick.

'Thank you very much, David, I appreciate your help immensely. You know I always show my appreciation, so there will be a small gift delivered to you in a couple of days, do enjoy.'

'No Jack, do not send me anything, I want nothing more from you; do you understand me?'

'David, David, my friend...' Jack started but was interrupted sharply.

'I'm not your bloody friend. Never have been and never will be. Do I make myself clear?'

'David, of course you do, perfectly clear. Now let me make myself clear.' Jack's voice lowered by a couple of octaves as he spoke in an unmistakably threatening tone. 'Do you think that I would not take appropriate precautions to protect my interests if ever the need arose? Make no mistake David, I have taken those precautions. I can destroy you and your family if I have to and will do so if you decide to ignore our little arrangement. So, my little gift will arrive and I expect you to take it gratefully and continue being your usually helpful self.' Jack's tone changed. 'Do we have a deal, Mr Morrison?'

David shuddered and was silent for some time.

'Do we have a deal?' Jack snarled the question through gritted teeth.

'Yes, ok, but leave my family out this, please.' The colour had completely drained from David and torment was etched into every line of his face.

'Of course, David. Goodbye for now and thank you once again for being so helpful.'

The phone clicked off. David Morrison slowly replaced the receiver, rested his head on the desk and quietly wept.

Jack Madden was furious following his conversation with DI Morrison on two counts. Firstly because of his suspicion that 'his copper' was starting to have reservations about their relationship and that was very dangerous. Secondly, he did not like not knowing where his 'troops' were. Had they been in custody it would have been risky but having just vanished raised all sorts of questions. His anger heightened with the thought that there may be strangers on his patch. He summoned some of his gang. 'I want to know what has happened to Spike and Mousy. If they can't be found then I want to know who's responsible for making them disappear. Now get out and find them or at least what has happened to them.' He screamed out: 'I want an answer, do you hear me?'

Jack's men mumbled their acknowledgement as they scuffled their way out onto the streets.

The young boy sat in the corner of the room listening to his father bark out his commands. He was very familiar with the rage he saw in the big man's face and winced at the thought of being on the receiving end of it. Suddenly, he heard that voice he feared most of all being directed at him. His young stomach churned.

'Come here boy.'

Al hesitated.

'I said come here. Are you deaf as well as stupid?'

Jack's son scampered hurriedly across the room. 'Sorry Dad, I wasn't thinking.'

'You never do think; how did I ever father a weak, wimp of a runt like you? Take this envelope to the police station and ask for DI Morrison. Only give the package to him and make sure no-one sees you do it. Do you understand me?' He slapped the young boy across the back of the head. 'Now get out of my sight.'

Al hurried out of the room hoping his father could not see the tears welling up inside him. He had come to hate his father intensely.

*******

Once through the white gate, John and Alfie made their way to what had now become their rendezvous, the oak tree.

'Well, what do you want to do? Shall we call on Mr K now, or would you like to sit and think a while?' John asked, quickly adding, 'I'm going to take a nap.' He knew that would take him back to his real world and he needed to speak to Jennifer, deal with his school responsibilities and cover his tracks a bit more effectively. He would tell his staff that he was taking some time off.

Alfie, in the meantime, decided to go walkabout, nowhere in particular, just an aimless wander. He enjoyed the pointlessness of his meandering; it helped him think and in a very relaxed way helped to put things into perspective. It was such a relaxing place and he knew how easy it was to want to stay here. He also knew that wasn't possible and sooner rather than later he would have to make a decision. There was only one uncertainty for him to ponder and that was Maisie. He decided he would talk to Mr K later. Meanwhile, he let his mind drift to nothing in particular and to nowhere other than his idyllic surroundings.

* * * * * *

Jennifer Paige and Doctor Peter Grant were discussing Alfie's latest condition when John entered the ward.

Hello Doctor Grant, Jennifer. Sorry, Doctor Paige. How's the patient today?' John was mindful that he needed to keep his relationship with Jennifer as formal as possible in the presence of her colleagues.

Peter turned to John and said: 'I'll let Doctor Paige brief you Mr Southill, I have some other patients to see.'

John and Jennifer were amused by the twinkle in Peter's eye as he spoke. It was like a parent leaving the room to allow love-struck teenagers time to themselves. He even closed Alfie's side-ward door behind him!

Jennifer looked at John and asked: 'How are you? I hope nothing bad has happened.' There was genuine concern in her eyes but a smile that said she was happy to see him.

'I'm fine Jennifer, thanks. You been ok?'

'Yes, thanks.' She felt a need to avert her eyes from John and talk about Alfie's condition. 'It's been pretty quiet here. We've not seen Alfie this calm for some time. There is some slight weight loss, which is expected, but no muscle atrophy yet. We can anticipate that that will be a problem sooner rather than later. His blood pressure is almost perfect, so I guess you've done a great job keeping him calm. At one point he had a look of such contentment on his face that Doctor Grant thought he might be having an erotic dream. But I suspected that you had got him back to the meadow, which would explain his apparent pleasure.'

'I think Maisie might have been the cause of that,' John said.

'What!' exclaimed Jennifer. 'You don't mean he and she...?'

'No, I don't think so; he insists they're just good friends. Maisie has had such a rough life in her world that when Alfie came along she saw him as a knight in shining armour. I believe him when he says that she just asked him to lie with her on her bed. For a change, he was something good in her life and she wanted the opportunity to feel that goodness close to her. I think Alfie got some deep satisfaction from that also. That probably coincided with the look of profound contentment you saw.'

'That's a wonderful story, John, but I'm sure he must realise that he can't get romantically involved with her.'

'He is aware of that and at the moment he is in The Keeper's place about to have a discussion with Mr K about that very subject.' John looked straight at Jennifer. 'How about when you finish up here we go somewhere for dinner and a quiet drink?'

There wasn't a moment of hesitation. 'That would be delightful John. Thank you, yes. I shall finish here about six, is that ok? I'm afraid I shan't be dressed in other than what I'm wearing now, minus my white coat, of course. I hope you don't mind.'

'Of course not. I'll look forward to seeing you at six then.' John spent some time with Alfie but knew that where he was right now would effectively make his time sitting at the young man's bedside superfluous. He gently took Alfie's hand in his and whispered: 'I truly hope you make the right decision Alfie, there are so many people here praying that you do.' John called at Jennifer's office and the pair strolled out of the hospital. He asked if she minded Italian food because he knew of a small Italian restaurant not far away.

'I love Italian food, it's so romantic.'

Jennifer blushed slightly realising what she had just said.

It was certainly a perfect setting for John and Jennifer's first real opportunity to get to know each other better.

John ordered a light, dry, crisp Orvieto wine to accompany the pasta dishes they had ordered and they spent the next two hours talking about their likes and dislikes, hobbies, jobs and previous lives, avoiding the incidents that had brought them together. They didn't mention Alfie at all; not that they were ignoring him or their commitment to helping him; it was just that they had so much to learn about each other and this was their first chance. They had spent so much of their time looking after patients and pupils they had forgotten their own needs, so it was a refreshing escape from all that responsibility. More importantly, they found solace in each other's presence. During the evening they would occasionally just look at one another. Words were unnecessary; what was in their eyes said all that was needed. Despite these unspoken words, they were cautious of letting their feelings get out of control. John brought them back down to earth by saying: 'I think I should get back to Alfie. Because he is quite stable here, you could come with me. What do you think?'

'Yes, I think I could risk another trip into Alfie's place. Shall we meet at the river or the oak tree?'

'I think the oak tree, just in case he's there waiting for us.'

John picked up the bill and ordered a taxi for them both and dropped Jennifer off first. He got out of the cab and asked the driver to wait while he saw Jennifer to her house.

She unlocked her front door.

'It's been a lovely evening, John, thank you. I really have enjoyed it immensely.'

'So have I Jenny. Sorry, do you mind if I shorten your name, I do like the sound of it?'

'Not at all John, lots of my friends call me Jenny.'

John kissed her gently on the lips and said: 'I'll see you later, at the oak tree. It has indeed been a wonderful evening.'

Jennifer was glowing, but she was unsure whether it was the wine or the goodnight kiss she had just experienced. She hoped it was the latter.
You only have power over people so long as you don't take everything away from them. But when you've robbed a man of everything, he's no longer in your power - he's free again.

Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Chapter 14
Alfie had decided that before he returned through the white gate he needed the answer to a specific question that only Mr K could provide. He had not spoken his name but only thought about Mr K when he appeared. The Keeper sat on his ubiquitous wooden bench with his back to Alfie as if he had been there all day, rather than just appeared.

'Come and sit with me Alfie,' the old man beckoned, whilst still looking out across the meadow.

The young man got up from the grass and joined The Keeper on his bench.

'I know this is a difficult time for you son, and you need answers. I promise I will try and give you those answers but in doing so I have to be honest with you and you may find that there are some things you might not wish to hear.'

'I know Mr K, I understand that, and I think I have a good idea of what you will tell me.'

'I suppose you've finally accepted that the answers are indeed within you. But I would still like to hear your questions just to tie up any loose ends. I don't like loose ends, do you?' Mr K didn't really expect an answer; it was more of a statement than a question.

'You know that I have become very fond of Maisie.'

'Yes I do Alfie, and she is becoming more than just fond of you; do you realise that?'

'I've felt that we were becoming closer and she felt good with me around. So, tell me, am I right in believing that my future is not to be in Maisie's world; that if I choose not go back to my own realm it doesn't follow that I will stay in hers.'

'I'm afraid that's correct Alfie. You see, Maisie has already made her life choice. When she first made that choice, you were not part of it, even though you are now. She has to fulfil her destiny just as you have to fulfil yours.' Mr K spoke very deliberately and slowly, wanting Alfie to absorb every word he said. 'You are one of the many pieces of her jigsaw and she needs you to help her complete her picture. You will have major bearing on her life but you cannot change what the outcome for Maisie will be. Likewise, she is a major player in the decision you have yet to make, but she cannot change it.'

Alfie thought deeply about what had just been said and took in a deep breath, letting it out as a resigned sigh. 'When she completes her time here and moves on Mr K, can you tell me if she will be happy?'

'She will indeed and you will have had a major affect on her achieving that happiness.'

'But she won't remember me, will she?' Alfie said, sadly.

'No, I'm afraid she will not son, but you can take comfort from knowing that your actions will not have been in vain and the joy she will experience in her new life will be largely down to you.'

'That's good Mr K, I'm glad.' Tears filled Alfie's eyes and he turned away, knowing that The Keeper would now quietly slip away.

John and Jennifer walked towards the oak tree and could see Alfie sitting with his back resting against it.

As they approached, they called out: 'Hi Alfie, we're back. What have you been up to?'

Alfie carried on staring across the flower-filled meadow, deep in thought, and didn't respond. Jennifer and John looked at each other and were concerned by Alfie's demeanour. They sat down beside him and Jennifer was first to speak. 'What on earth has happened Alfie, why so quiet?'

'Sorry,' Alfie suddenly became aware that Jennifer and John had joined him, 'I was miles away; sort of got lost in all this.' He gestured towards the rolling hills and vista of wild flowers in front of him.

John sensed that there was something more than Alfie was prepared to share but didn't want to press him on it.

'Did you manage to speak to Mr K?'

'Yes and he told me all that I needed to know thanks.'

'Good. So, do we carry on and meet with our friendly detective or have you got something else in mind?'

'No, I have nothing else in mind John; in fact, the sooner I finish what I have to do here the better.' There was a steely determination in Alfie's tone that convinced John that he finally had a clear and unequivocal plan.

'Jennifer, we are going to meet DS Charlie Adams at eight o'clock tonight at what is now the disused railway station. Do you want to come with us?' John asked.

Jenny replied, 'not the DS Adams who almost ran me down in the corridor is it?'

'The very same, but I doubt if he will be the same individual, if you know what I mean.'

'Well I hope not, he was a very brusque individual by all accounts?' Jennifer said indignantly.

Alfie interrupted: 'Maisie has only arranged for John and I to meet with him and she said he was a bit iffy about doing that, so I think it might be best if you stayed with Maisie or Mrs Thoms, Jennifer.'

'Ok, that's fine with me; why don't you boys show me the way.'

Jennifer noted a distinct sadness in Alfie's eyes at the mention of Maisie, but there was also an air of resignation; like someone who had lost something that they knew they were never meant to keep.

John briefed Jennifer on their cover story just in case Maisie asked any questions. Jennifer was to be John's partner of five years and didn't like being left at home, so she was tagging along. John gave a sidelong glance towards Jennifer and smiled ruefully.

The group headed off towards the white gate with Alfie stepping out in front quite purposefully. They stepped through to the darker side and neither John nor Jennifer relished the thought of being in this place; it gave them the creeps. On the other hand, Alfie moved resolutely. There was something about his posture; he looked bigger, stronger and walked with his fists clenched and his jaw set.

John remembered that he had said that he had left his car in Rosamond Street. 'Damn,' he thought, 'how am I going to explain that?'

But then, on the corner of Alderman Avenue, a car was parked, which John thought was odd but might come in useful. The group approached the car, although only John took any interest in it. As he drew alongside he stooped down and saw that the ignition keys were still in situ. He tried the door and it was unlocked. 'Come on, get in. I think Mr K has made appropriate arrangements for our transport.'

Jennifer rocked back. 'No way! We can't just get in a car that happens to be conveniently left with its keys inside. Have you considered what may happen if we get locked up for car theft in this place?'

'Just a minute,' said John and reached into the car and opened the glove box. He unfolded a document and immediately smiled. 'Well, well, what do you think this is? It's an insurance cover note dated from today and would you believe, it's in my name.' He held the passenger door open and invited Jennifer to get in, who was followed by Alfie in the back and they drove the short distance to Maisie's house.

Maisie greeted the group, and especially Alfie, with her usual enthusiasm as they walked down the path to her house.

'Hi again, it's lovely to see you.' She looked only at Alfie when she said this.

After tea and some small talk, John suggested that they should start to make their way to meet with Sergeant Adams.

'I'll just get a coat,' Maisie said.

'It would be better if you stayed here, Maisie'. John said 'we wouldn't want you to be spotted by any of Jack's boys; it could be dangerous for you. You've done enough getting the meeting arranged and I'm grateful. I don't want to risk putting you or Jenny in any danger so that's why she is staying here and I think you should stay with her. Ok? I know how to get to the station, so directions won't be an issue.'

'If you're sure you won't need me to be with you then ok, I'll stay here, but remember what I said, I don't want anything said to Charlie Adams about me telling you about any book, alright?'

John assured her, 'don't worry Maisie, we won't say anything about it.'

John and Alfie got into the car and drove to the station. On arrival, John switched the lights off and they both got out and walked towards the now defunct platform. The station was ghostly quiet and unlit, other than that from the bright moon, and they waited.

DS Adams had waited in the shadows for about ten minutes to see if there were signs of more than just the two people he was to meet. He was reasonably happy that the two figures standing on the platform were alone, so he stepped out of the darkness and made himself known. 'I'm Detective Sergeant Adams and I believe you want to talk to me about the assault on a Frank Stolman.' He kept a judicious distance between him and the two people he had agreed to meet.

John took a step forward and Charlie held his hand up.

'Let's keep a reasonable distance between us for the moment Mr, until I get to know you a little better.'

'Fine, Sergeant, whatever you say, but I can assure you that we mean you no harm,' John replied.

'I'm pleased to hear that but in this job you don't take chances. So, ok, what is it you want to know?'

'First of all, my family believe Frank died as a result of the injuries he received from whoever attacked him. Yet the death certificate said natural causes. I have spoken to a number of people in the area who witnessed the attack and they're frightened to death to talk about it. There was one exception and that person told me his injuries were horrific; that the people who attacked him are well known; yet they appear to have protected status. Who attacked him and were they arrested and charged and why did the death certificate not mention the serious injuries that were inflicted on and old man?'

DS Adams stepped closer and spoke in a very low tone.

'What's your name and your companion's, so that I know who I'm talking to?'

John and Alfie could now see DS Adams for the first time. Alfie hadn't seen him before, but John had and had not forgotten when he came into his office to tell him about the tragedy of Alfie and his family. He remembered him to be a big man with a gruff voice and manner to match. The man in front of him was tall and slim, balding and spoke in a quiet but authoritative voice.

'My name is Carter, John Carter. My companion here is Alfie Mills. Now Sergeant are you going to help us get to the truth of this matter?'

Charlie Adams looked directly at Alfie.

'Your friend seems to me to be a little young to be getting involved in this and I have to warn you, you are asking some very dangerous questions and you need to be extremely careful about who you ask them of.'

'All I want is those responsible for my relative's death to be brought to book. I don't really care if I ruffle a few feathers in the process.'

'You won't be ruffling feathers Mr Carter, you will be creating a tsunami; believe me. Jack Madden has this town sewn up and you will not be able to trust anyone. When you challenge the coroner's report Jack will know about it. When you ask for arrest reports about the incident, Jack will know about it.'

'So in talking to you now, will this Jack know about it?'

'No, you can be sure of that, but be careful Mr Carter, trust no-one outside of myself.' He continued: 'There were arrests but no-one was charged. Jack got to his contacts in the force very quickly. As for the coroner, same problem, they're all in hock to Jack Madden in one way or another. We can't arrest him because he's protected by some very high-up people. I say we, there aren't many of the 'we' about.'

'Am I right in what I'm hearing? Jack's boys were responsible for Frank Stolman's death but no-one was charged because Jack Madden is more powerful than the law?'

'You got it in one my friend.'

Alfie spoke for the first time.

'Is there any way we can stop this thug?'

'I've been trying, believe me, and you're right he is a thug but also a very clever one. I've never been able to get anything concrete on him. Whenever I have got close, he's used his big guns to protect him, as in the case of Frank Stolman. I need something that those big guns cannot ignore. If I can find that then I can take him down. Once I have sufficient evidence then I can encourage outside agencies to get involved. This sewer can be cleaned up once and for all.' Charlie Adams suddenly appeared nervous. 'Look, I've already said too much and need to get back. Here's my card with my number. If you do need to phone and I am not there, leave no messages and do not say why you are calling. Even if I answer say nothing and hang up. I will know to meet you here as soon as I can get away. Be very careful and say nothing of our meeting tonight. Goodbye.' DS Adams melted back into the shadows and disappeared from view.

John and Alfie were stunned for a moment but then walked slowly back to the car. It was hard to comprehend that they were in the midst of such malevolence. They drove back to Maisie's in complete silence.

Jack's son, Al, clutched tightly at the envelope his father had given him and as he approached the police station he tucked it inside his jacket, out of sight. He entered the police building apprehensively and walked slowly towards the reception desk. The desk sergeant peered down at him from above and bellowed in a deep baritone voice.

'And what's a naughty fella like you doing in a nice place like this then? Come to confess to some heinous crime?'

Howls of laughter burst out from the rear of the reception area.

'I need to see DI Morrison.' young Al answered meekly.

'And why, might I ask, do you want to see one of our very important detective inspectors laddie?'

'Can't say.' Al was terrified that he would be forced to divulge what he had brought from his father.

'What's your name boy?'

'Al Madden,' he said quietly.

The chattering and laughter stopped immediately. 'Sorry son, but we do get some strange people in here, especially kids who think they can waste our time. If I'd known who you were to start with then I would have contacted DI Morrison straight away.'

Al's sense of power was an unusual feeling for him. In a very acerbic manner, he said: 'Then you won't mind calling him now, will you?'

'Yes, of course.'

The officer, looking rather flushed, picked up the phone and spoke to DI Morrison. 'There is a young man here who wishes to see you, sir. His name is Al Madden. Shall I send him up or will you come down?'

'Yes, of course sir, I'll escort him myself.'

'Come with me Master Madden.' The desk sergeant showed Al into DI Morrison's office and closed the door behind him.

The boy looked furtively around the DI's office and took the envelope from the inside of his jacket. 'Dad asked me to give you this.'

David Morrison wouldn't take the package from the boy, so Al placed it on the DI's desk.

'So, your old man has got you running his errands now has he?' He picked the envelope up off the desk and wafted it in the air like a fan in front of his face. 'Do you know what's in here son; I'm sure you do. How old are you? Thirteen, fourteen?'

'Fourteen,' Al replied.

'I've received many envelopes just like this one from your father and it pains me greatly to know that I'm now being paid off by a fourteen-year-old.' David said despondently. 'You had better go now young man; I'll get the officer to escort you from the building.' He paused.

'Listen to me. I beg you son, don't get involved with what your father is doing. If it's at all possible to get away then do so as fast your young legs will carry you.'

Al could see the pleading in the policeman's eyes, they were full of pained sadness and he felt sorry for him but he was too afraid of his father to consider such advice. The loathing he felt towards his father, however, increased with each passing day and with the growing number of people he saw whose lives were being destroyed by the actions of the man he called Dad.

DI Morrison picked up the phone and instructed the desk sergeant to collect Al from his office and see that he left the building safely.

Al left with the officer and David Morrison once again was left to consider the misery he had inflicted upon himself and his family. He took a key from his pocket, opened a large desk draw and threw the envelope into it. The package looked innocuous amongst all the other similarly unopened envelopes. The DI sat in his chair with his head in his hands when there was a tap on the door. It immediately opened and Charlie Adams walked in. David Morrison didn't look up for a moment; he was too lost in his despair. He eventually raised his head and acknowledged Charlie's presence.

'What do want Charlie, I'm really busy right now?'

'Yeah, it looks like it my friend. What's going on David? We've known each other a long time and I know when something is troubling you. Are you going to tell me?'

'No I'm not Charlie and you should know better than to question a superior officer.'

Charlie Adams made a move to leave. 'Ok sir,' he said acidly, emphasising the word sir. 'I guess I shouldn't have wasted my breath.' He started to move towards the door.

'Wait, Charlie, I'm really sorry, that was uncalled for. Sit down, please.'

DS Adams halted his move towards the door, turned, looked at his friend and walked back to the chair in front of the desk. 'So, David, I've watched you these past few months and you're not the David Morrison I once knew. The stress of whatever it is, is etched all over your face; share the problem with me, David, that's what friends are for.'

'I can't Charlie. As much as I would like to, I can't. But I implore you for your own sake, get out of here. Put in a transfer request and I'll sign it. You are in serious danger here Charlie.'

'It's Jack Madden isn't it, he's got to you; am I right?'

'I can't say, Charlie, I won't say, but in God's name don't waste any more of your time in this cesspit. You're a good copper, in fact one of the best I've ever worked with; get out to another force and do what you do best.'

'I'm doing what I do best here David, and I intend to carry on until I've locked up the likes of Jack Madden for good. Just tell me this, why is it we can't get any help from outside the territory?'

'Because it goes much higher than you think and that's all I will say. Now leave it Charlie and promise me you'll think about the transfer.'

Charlie got up and walked towards the door. 'I'll think about it sir,' he said with emphasis 'but I hope more than anything else that you will consider what you are doing. You have the power to stop it.' With that, he left and closed the door behind him knowing that he probably lost a friend that day.

David Morrison heard the words 'you have the power to stop it' over and over in his head and realised that there was only one way he could be free. He rang down to the desk sergeant and left an instruction that DS Adams was to meet him in his office at 9am tomorrow. 'You can catch him as he comes into work in the morning. I'll be working quite late so I want absolutely no interruptions. Am I understood sergeant? I'll have your guts for garters if you don't follow my orders to the letter.'

'Absolutely sir. I'll make sure you're not disturbed and ensure that DS Adams is told that you want to see him at 9am tomorrow.'

David put the phone down and started to write a letter. It was addressed to DS Adams and simply said: "My dear friend, look no further than Jack Madden and put him away. Charlie, tell my wife that I'm sorry, but I am now free. I know you will understand." He sealed the letter into an envelope and marked it clearly with FOR THE ATTENTION OF DETECTIVE SERGEANT ADAMS ONLY.

Maisie had made them all a drink and sat next to Alfie on the sofa; she was pleased to be in close proximity to him and had obviously gone to some effort to impress. Her hair was brushed and had a silky lustre, her nails were painted a delicate pink and she had put on some make-up.

Alfie thought she looked stunning but quickly remembered his conversation with Mr K. He was deeply saddened knowing that there was no future for him with Maisie.

'At least whilst I am here I will look after her,' he thought.

John had fully recounted his and Alfie's meeting with DS Adams.

'So, what do we do now then?' Maisie asked.

'He needs hard evidence and it would appear that we don't have any,' Jennifer said.

'But we do Jenny,' John looked directly at Maisie, 'there's the book. It must contain all the payments he's made and to whom.'

'No way, there's no way anyone could get that book away from Jack. There's only a couple of people who know where he keeps it and knowing where he keeps it isn't the same as being able to get hold of it. I tell you, he's too bloody clever to make any mistakes.'

'Who are the couple of people Maisie?' Alfie asked.

Maisie hesitated. "His son, Al, will certainly be one of them because he is often asked to get it or put it away. Jack's not bothered about the kid knowing where it is because he's terrified of his father and his father knows it.'

Alfie continued: 'You said only a couple knew where the book was kept. So who would the other one be?'

Maisie became agitated. 'I don't want to say anymore about it, just leave it out will you.'

John quickly jumped in. 'It's you, isn't it Maisie, you're the other person who knows where he keeps it, am I right?'

She started to shake and held her hands over her ears. 'Leave me alone, for God's sake leave me alone. I won't do it; never in a million years will I go anywhere near that animal again, so don't even think about asking me.'

Alfie put his arm around her and pulled her towards his chest. 'Hey, stop right there Maisie, no-one's asking you to do anything, trust me.'

John was quick to back up Alfie. 'He's right Maisie, we're not asking you to do anything. We just need to know as much as we can about Jack's operation.'

Jennifer nodded to John, gesturing him to join her outside. He got the message and said: 'I'm going outside to get a bit of fresh air Jenny, you coming?'

'That's a good idea.'

They both got up and went out of the front door. 'Let's go and sit in the car and talk for a while,' Jennifer suggested.

Outside John asked: 'What's all this about Jenny?'

'I think we should go back to the oak tree and take some time to think about where this is leading us, and particularly where it's leading Alfie. We shouldn't forget why we're here. It certainly isn't about hunting down the local mafia or cleaning up this septic tank of a town.'

'I understand what you're saying Jenny, but Alfie's solution rests with him dealing with his stepfather, who in this world happens to be a big-time crook. I agree with you, though, we should go back to more peaceful and relaxing surroundings to think this out.'

The pair left the car and re-entered the house.

Alfie and Maisie were still sat together and unaware of John and Jennifer's coming and going.

Jennifer spoke first. 'I think we should leave now and go home. Let's sleep on it and hopefully come back tomorrow with some fresh ideas.'

John supported the idea. 'Yes, I think that makes sense.' He stood up. 'Shall we then? See you tomorrow Maisie.'

Maisie looked at Alfie with pleading eyes and said: 'Stay with me, please Alfie. I don't want to be here on my own.'

'I'm staying Maisie; don't worry. Ok John, Jennifer, we'll see you in the morning.'

John and Jennifer looked at each other, slightly concerned but resigned to the fact that they couldn't do much to change Alfie's mind. 'Ok we'll see you tomorrow.' They left and made off towards the white gate.

'Thank you for staying with me Alfie. I can't begin to tell you how much it means to have someone I can trust close to me.'

Alfie stumbled over his words but managed to say: 'You can trust me Maisie, but I have to warn you that once I have done what I have come here to do then I will have to leave and we will almost certainly never see each other again. Do you realise that?'

'I've somehow figured that it might be the case, Alfie. You don't belong here, I know that, but just knowing you for the short time that I have has given me hope that there is a better life, with better people, somewhere.' After a long pause she asked: 'Will you lay down with me again, Alfie, please?'

Alfie took her hand gently in his and guided her towards the bedroom. As they approached the bedroom door Alfie stooped and gathered Maisie up in his arms and carried her as a groom would carry a bride across a threshold. She was shocked at first but then laughed heartily as they both fell onto the bed.

They curled into each other's arms and Maisie moulded herself to Alfie. Sex wasn't on their minds, as might be the thought for two young people in this situation, it was something else that drew their bodies together; it was the warmth, strength and security that neither of them had much experience of that gave them great comfort.

It wasn't long before they fell asleep, locked in each other's arms.

Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.

James A Baldwin

Chapter 15
Having gone through the white gate, John and Jennifer felt a surge of relief now that they were out of that dark place on the other side. They approached the oak tree and sat in awe at the panorama before them. Wild flowers waved their vibrant colours in the gentle breeze, attracting the bees and insects to sup at their table of nectar. Birds swooped and perched on the tree branches, their songs filled the perfumed air with different melodies that were strangely in harmony with their surroundings. To the right, and just within view, was the river that gracefully meandered through the valley, completing the portrait of beauty that captivated them. They both thought that the whole setting was truly wondrous and inspiring.

They sat side by side, with Jennifer resting her head on John's shoulder. She snuggled up closer to him and he responded by putting his arm around her, neither of them daring to disturb their tranquillity by talking or moving.

Jenny could feel her heart beating more quickly as she felt the warmth of John's body close to hers. He shared similar feelings and realised that the thoughts he had noticed about her previously were the beginning of him falling in love; something he had never believed could happen again. She had also fought hard against the possibility that she could fall in love again but now asked herself how she could feel so warm and comfortable in another man's arms unless she loved him.

They were both certain that these feelings were not borne out of a euphoria created by this place, but a genuine coming together of two hearts that for so long had been denied by events in their lives that had been outside of their control.

Jenny raised her face towards John's and he leaned down and kissed her. Their lips met and were at first gentle, searching – a discovery of the texture and taste of each other. This was not the kiss that wished her goodnight after their dinner together but one of deep passion and meaning. They held on to each other tightly, not wishing for either of them to let the moment end. It had been nearly ten years since they had even considered making love to another but now; all of that waiting exploded and unleashed a rush of passion that engulfed them both.

John could smell the perfume of Jenny's skin as he kissed her neck; she moaned as he kissed her face, her eyes, her throat; he wanted to smother her in his kisses. In these moments of fervour, Jenny exchanged kisses with John with excitement and eagerness.

John lay Jenny down on the lush grass beneath the oak tree, gently, slowly, unbuttoned her blouse, and unfastened her skirt; she lay there expectantly as he removed it and took off his shirt. He was stunned by her beauty. He gently kissed her on the lips and said: 'I never thought I could ever say this again, I do love you Jenny.' Her breasts heaved as he tenderly kissed each nipple; she in turn kissed his chest and said: 'John, please,' and pulled him towards her body. There was no-one to disturb them here; they could abandon themselves completely without inhibition. John moulded his body onto Jennifer's and caressed every contour. She grasped him tightly wanting him to be part of her and arching her body towards his.

They made love tenderly at first, and then as their passion increased so did their longing for each other, until it became wildly feverish and neither was in control of their emotions. They were both lost in the moment. The place they were in, the wild flowers, the birds and the colours, their fused bodies all merged into a kaleidoscope of sensations ultimately erupting into an indescribable climax.

Their hearts pounded in their breasts as they felt the ecstasy that came with the peak of their lovemaking. They lay together as one for some time, neither wanting to lose the magic of the moment. John eventually moved to one side onto his back and they both lay there exhausted, naked and oblivious to the open world around them. He kissed her, she kissed him, and they had truly become one. After some time they dressed and wrapped themselves in each other's arms, savouring the memory and the moment of what had just passed. The lovers quickly fell asleep.

A short distance away, an elderly man sat on a slatted bench, leaning forward with his hands resting on his walking cane. He observed the wonders of his domain, looking out across the meadow and all that was created there and was eternally grateful for having the privilege of just being here. He looked across at the two lovers asleep, content and happy in each other's arms and in love. He was very happy.

* * * * * *

The alarm clock in Jennifer's bedroom aroused her from her deep sleep. Her hair was dishevelled but she felt strangely at ease with herself. In fact, she felt contented. 'No, I don't believe it, it couldn't have happened, could it?' she asked herself as she remembered what had occurred in Alfie's place under the oak tree. 'Was it just an erotic dream or did it really happen?' Then she ran her fingers through her tousled hair and remembered how wonderful she felt in John's arms; she remembered her feelings for him and how loving and gentle he was. 'That was no dream,' she thought, 'that was real and I can't wait to see him again.' Jennifer rushed through her shower and breakfast, got dressed in a new floral dress she had been saving for a special occasion and dashed off to Collingham Hospital. She hoped John would wake up feeling the same as she did.

John wasn't in any doubt about what had happened between him and Jennifer. He had woken up and immediately remembered everything. He couldn't wait to see her and was so happy. All the way through his shower, breakfast and the journey to the office he had a smile on his face. John was in love again and was ecstatic.

Maureen looked up as John entered the office. 'My, you're bright and early Headmaster. Good morning.'

'And a very good morning to you too Maureen, how are you today?'

There was spring in John's step and a certain lilt in his voice.

Maureen looked a little bemused; she had not seen her boss like this before.

'I'm fine Headmaster thank you. Anything in particular you want me to do today?'

'No, nothing thank you Maureen. I shall clear some paperwork and then go and see the students who are working with Mrs Thoms and her neighbours. I will then be at the hospital to see Jenny... I mean Alfie.' John flushed slightly at what he had just said and cursed under his breath. He was glad to note that it shouldn't be too long before he could announce his new love to the world. He hurriedly entered his office and closed the door.

Maureen chewed on a pen in the corner of her mouth and smiled.

Jennifer had reduced the number of her appointments to just the morning sessions and immediately hurried to Alfie's ward, hoping John might already be there but he wasn't.

Amy Brannigan, the senior nurse, came over to her.

'Hello Jennifer, you're looking very chic, love the dress.'

'Oh I've had this a while, been meaning to give it an airing for some time. Have you seen Mr Southill today?'

Amy thought it an odd question.

'No, he hasn't been in yet, I would think he'll be here this afternoon.'

Jennifer realised she was a little too eager and moved to another subject. 'How's Alfie today?'

'All of the monitor readings are higher than they should be but they are now stable. Doctor Grant is reasonably comfortable about it at the moment. I'm just about to check him out for this evening's rounds. Do you want to come in with me?'

Jennifer was disappointed in not seeing John but was hopeful he would show up later. She accompanied Amy into Alfie's side ward.

John was impatient to see Jennifer, so waded through his paperwork quickly and spent very little time with the students working in Alderman Avenue. He, of course, said hello to Mrs Thoms and spoke briefly to Michael, his deputy. He was impressed by how much the volunteer students had done; gardens were immaculate, errands had been run and, generally, everyone was happy. Even Frank Stolman had recovered and was enjoying having the youngsters around. John was proud of what they had achieved and wanted to spend some time there but was desperate to see Jennifer and quickly sped off in his car to the hospital. He walked swiftly through the hospital corridors to Alfie's ward and stopped at the reception desk. 'I've come to visit Alfie Madden and I have had clearance from Doctor Grant to visit just in case you're thinking of asking me if I'm a relative or not,' he said pointedly to the young nurse behind the desk.

She retaliated: 'I'm sorry sir but it's not visiting time for another hour. You can wait in our visitors' waiting room just over there.'

He was about to object to the receptionist's jobs worth approach when Jennifer came out of Alfie's ward. They looked at each other but said nothing; their eyes spoke volumes.

The receptionist nurse waited for some sort of response and then broke the silence.

'I've told this gentleman that he will have to wait in the waiting room until the correct visiting time, Doctor.'

There was no reaction from John or Jennifer initially until Jennifer realised she was being spoken to.

'I'm sorry Nurse, I'll deal with Mr Southill now.' Directing her eyes towards John she said: 'If you'd like to follow me to the visitors room I can give you an update about the patient before you go in to see him.' She held the waiting room door open for John and glanced back at the reception nurse who was watching them. The windows of the waiting room were fortunately screened for privacy so as soon as the door was closed, she said in a semi-shocked tone: 'Tell me, John, did we really experience what I believe we experienced last night at the oak tree?'

She waited for an answer. John, putting on a puzzled look, deliberately paused to tease her. He could see the expression on her face change from an expectant delight to one of disappointment and quickly moved towards her, picked her up in his strong arms and said: 'Yes my darling, I have no doubt at all that we had the most marvellous, wonderful 'experience' at the oak tree.' He smiled and then kissed her passionately. They held on to each other, cherishing the memory of their first serious embrace.

After she caught her breath she gasped: 'But how could that be John, I don't understand how it could possibly happen?'

'I don't know Jenny, but I am so glad it did. It would seem that anything is possible in Alfie's place. Oh my god, do you think The Keeper watched us?'

'I don't know, but thinking about it, it's highly likely that he was close by.' Jennifer flushed at the thought.

John looked lovingly into Jennifer's eyes. 'Do you still feel the same knowing that we may have been observed?'

'It is more likely that we were watched over rather than watched.' She kissed him gently on the cheek and whispered: 'Yes I do feel the same, absolutely and totally. I never believed for a moment that I could ever feel that way again.' She threw her arms around his neck saying: 'I am so happy, John.' Tears filled her eyes.

They were locked in their embrace and too absorbed in each other to notice that the door opened and in walked Peter Grant. 'Oops, once again I've become the party pooper, sorry,' he said apologetically and turned to leave.

'No Peter, don't go, there's no need to leave, John and I have nothing to hide,' Jennifer said looking lovingly at John. 'It's about time everyone knew that... well, we are a couple now and it's about time everyone knew that we're very happy.' She hooked her arm through John's and held on with both hands.

'I'm so pleased for you Jennifer and you too John. Sorry, may I call you John?

'Yes of course and thank you; I do consider myself a very lucky guy,' John smiled warmly at Jennifer.

'I am really glad for you both. I just came in to tell you that it was ok for you to visit Alfie outside the official visiting times. The nurse told me that you had been told that you couldn't and I've over-ridden that; you can go in at any time John. So, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone then, bye for now.'

Peter turned and left. He was genuinely happy for Jennifer; she looked radiant.

John looked to Jennifer. 'Let me take you out this evening and celebrate over some nicely cooked pasta and a good bottle of wine. How about that little Italian place where we had our first date?'

Jennifer responded: 'Instead, how about we go to my place and I'll cook us a special meal and we can open that special bottle of champagne you are bringing?' She had a mischievous smile on her face and John loved it.

'Well, young lady, if you would like to give me your address and telephone number I would be very happy to accept your kind invitation,' he said pompously.

They laughed a little, kissed goodbye and Jennifer went back to her office and John visited Alfie.

John sat next to Alfie in his usual spot and gently took the boy's hand in his. He was acutely aware that this time there was no gentle squeeze on his hand. This had always been accepted as Alfie's way of saying I know you're here. It was sometimes interpreted that he needed help. This time there was no response. John spent about an hour just watching Alfie's face and comparing it to the more rugged Alfie he had come to know in the other worlds. The Alfie lying here looked frail and very young. He whispered goodbye and squeezed his hand gently, hoping that there would be some sign from him, but there was none. John was puzzled and a little concerned. He pushed it to the back of his mind for now but would mention his concerns to Jenny tonight. Ah, Jenny. Just the mention of her name brightened him up. 'Must get home, shower and get into some smart, relaxing clothes. Oh, and pick up that champagne,' he thought.

Jennifer had left the hospital early. There were no more appointments and whilst she would usually spend some time with Alfie, she needed to get home and prepare for this evening.

It was 7pm and John had picked up some scented roses and the champagne and drove to Jennifer's house. After the accident involving her husband and son, she had moved into a more modest two-bedroom apartment not too far from the hospital. It had been convenient both in terms of the limited time she had to look after a home and its proximity to work. Despite this, she had a well-furnished and comfortable place of which she was proud.

John rang the external doorbell that generated a buzz unlocking the front door. Jennifer stood at her apartment door and waited for John to climb the two flights of stairs to the first floor.

She saw the flower bouquet in John's hand and her eyes sparkled. He passed them to her and gently kissed her on the cheek. That would have to suffice in public until he was sure that he knew what her neighbours were like, but he desperately wanted to sweep her up off her feet and carry her into the apartment.

'John, they're beautiful, thank you. The perfume reminds me of the rose bush we are so fond of, don't you think?'

'That's exactly why I picked them and, of course, they're special for the special lady in my life. I think the champagne could do with chilling for a while before we open it. Lead me to your refrigerator,' John said in an impression of an alien voice.

Soft music played in the background while John helped Jennifer with the preparation for dinner. He was setting out the table and noticed a photograph on the side dresser of what must have been Jennifer's husband and son. He picked it up to have a closer look. They looked just like the father and son they saw playing in the park.

Jennifer came in from the kitchen and before she could speak, John said: 'They were very good-looking guys and I am so sorry for your loss Jenny. I understand that you will not want to lose your memory of them, so please don't, it's important that we both keep that part of our lives in our hearts, especially as we now know that they are happy where they are.'

'I'm so glad you said that John, because I was a bit worried that you might want me to put such photographs away and I couldn't have done that. At least now that I have met you I can look at them with fondness rather than pain. Do you know what I mean?'

'Yes, I know exactly what you mean.'

Before he had left this evening he had looked at a photograph of Kate and, somehow, for the first time, felt different. He wasn't making comparisons, just reliving fond memories. He never thought he could love another woman, but now, it really was different.

'Dinner's ready, shall we?' Jennifer gestured towards the table.

John made his way to the refrigerator. 'I'll get the champagne whilst you're getting the food, ok?'

Jennifer had prepared sea bass fillets stuffed with a salmon mousse. They ate slowly and talked about the events that had brought them together; how quickly their relationship had blossomed.

John was enormously impressed with Jennifer's skill in the kitchen; the food was superb and he congratulated her, saying how much he had enjoyed it. They drank the champagne with gusto until Jennifer started to get a bit giggly. John decided they should probably have a coffee rather than finish the bottle.

They sat on the comfortable settee curled in each other's arms, listened to the music and finished their coffees. John got up and pulled Jennifer from the sofa onto her feet, held her close and danced - or at least swayed to the music playing in the background. She snuggled into his chest and they gently moved to the rhythm. Jennifer took hold of John's hand and led him towards the bedroom. He swooped Jenny up in his arms and carried her the rest of the way. She busily set about undoing his shirt as he lay her down on the bed. They groped about with each other, frantically removing each other's clothes, piece by piece, kissing each part of the body they exposed until nothing had not been caressed or kissed. They made love passionately and without inhibition, giving themselves to the other. They cried out in ecstasy at that peak moment when they truly became one. There was little doubt in either of their minds that what took place in Alfie's place under the oak tree really did happen and it was every bit as beautiful.

They lay in each other's arms, caressing, touching, kissing but saying little; their joy was beyond words.

Jennifer's pager suddenly sprang into life, breaking into their idyll. Jennifer slipped out of John's arms and picked up the machine on her bedside table.

'I need to ring the hospital, John.'

She threw on a white robe and went to the phone to dial the pre-arranged number. After a short silence she said: 'Yes of course, I'll be there right away.' She put the phone down. 'It was Peter Grant, Alfie's situation has deteriorated seriously John, and I need to go there straight away. Peter must not be allowed to sedate him.'

'I'll come with you,' John said.

They were soon entering the hospital and hurried onto Alfie's ward. Doctor Grant, who had also been called in by the nursing staff, met them.

'His heart rate is at a dangerous level Jennifer, and I'm not sure I can allow it to continue.'

'Peter please, let him fight this battle himself, it's the only way he will come out of this,' Jennifer pleaded.

'John, I'd be grateful if you would go to the visitors' room while Jennifer and I discuss this.'

John reluctantly agreed. Jennifer assured John she would come and brief him in a short while.

She eventually joined John who sat nervously waiting to hear what was happening.

'Peter has agreed to let him continue provided he doesn't get any worse. His heart rate is very high and his blood pressure is at an uncomfortable level, we have to find Alfie and get him calmed down. Whatever it is he is up to back there, it is not good. John, can you go back and try and find him? I will hold Peter off for as long as I can.'

'Yes, of course, Jenny. I'll try, but there's no guarantee that I will find him, let alone calm him down.'

She kissed him.

'Take care darling and get back here as soon as you can, we have some champagne to finish.'

John hurried home and soaked in a hot bath before getting into bed. He was quickly asleep.

* * * * * *

John soon found himself in The Keeper's meadow and passed the oak tree but saw no sign of Alfie. 'I'll head for the white gate and go to Maisie's house, I'm sure he'll be there,' he thought. He went through the gate with the same trepidation as he had always felt ever since they first crossed its threshold. The car was where he had left it the last time they were here. At Maisie's place, neither of them were anywhere to be seen. The only option John had left was to phone Sergeant Adams, leave no message, as agreed, and just head for the railway station. At least he could ask DS Adams to help him look for Alfie. He reminded himself that both he and Alfie had assumed false surnames and repeated to himself several times: 'I am John Carter, I am John Carter.' He hoped that Alfie had remembered his name was Mills. A telephone box came into view; John pulled up and made the call. Sergeant Adams didn't answer and no-one else picked up so he put the phone down after a predetermined number of rings. He just hoped that DS Adams got the missed call soon.John got in to the car and made his way to the railway station.

Charlie Adams had already been approached by Alfie and agreed to meet him at the station. They were talking as John approached. Not thinking that DS Adams would be there before him, his headlights shone brightly ahead of him.

'There's someone coming, get in here quick.'

DS Adams grabbed Alfie by the arm and manhandled him into a small, disused room. 'Get your head down boy and keep down, it could be some of Jack's goons looking for you.'

John parked the car and switched the headlights off; he walked onto the station platform and waited.

Alfie whispered to DS Adams: 'It's John, we're ok.'

They emerged from the room and out of the shadows.

'John, what are you doing here?'

He almost jumped out of his skin.

'Alfie, what the hell, I've been looking all over for you. I need to talk to you.'

Charlie Adams interrupted: 'We already have quite a discussion under way Mr Carter but seeing as you are here now, you may as well join us.'

Alfie recounted what had happened earlier that day with Mrs Thoms and Maisie.
The best weapon against an enemy is another enemy.

Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter 16
Several hours earlier

Jack Madden was briefing his right-hand man, who was known to everyone as Ice. He didn't do drugs or drink excessively; he was serious about his job working for Jack. He drove him around and did his more serious errands; as a trusted servant, he was well rewarded for it. Ice was well built, fit and could handle himself, which drew the necessary respect he needed from the rest of Jack's ragtag army of helpers.

'There's a package I need you to collect for me from one of my contacts, Ice. Meet him at The Plough at 11 o'clock; he knows that you will be coming. Don't worry if you see a police car outside; it's his.'

It wasn't generally known how Jack financed his operation, but for a few of those he trusted. Essentially, the coppers on his payroll would inform him when a drug bust was about to occur, although there were never any on his patch. The drugs that were collected in the raid would not be recorded; at least not all of them, and those that didn't get taken into the police security lock-up would be sold on to Jack. Ice was to collect the proceeds from one of these raids. Jack was always smug about his ingenuity and ability to make easy money – and this was definitely easy money. He could have made a significant amount more from running a protection 'service' but he thought it was risky and needed quite a bit of management. Anyway, he needed to let his tame coppers get a piece of that action. All he did was ask for a percentage of their take, with which they were happy to comply; after all, he would remind them, it was on his patch.

Ice was about to leave when Chopper appeared. He was nervous and clearly apprehensive about being here, having not yet found his two missing friends.

He stammered: 'Can I talk to you boss?'

Jack's eyes narrowed, his face clouded over. 'It had better good Chopper, what do want? Ice, stay and hear what this grubby little insect has come to tell me.'

Chopper trembled and tried unsuccessfully to control his mounting fear. 'When Shinzy and me told you we couldn't find Spike and Mousy, well that part was true, but we didn't tell you about a stranger that was with Maisie. He was strong and lifted Shinzy right off his feet by his shirt. I swear boss, neither of us wanted to tangle with him.'

The whites of Jack's eyes turned red and his jaw set tight. 'So, do you think he had anything to do with your colleagues' departure from this world?'

Chopper wasn't exactly the sharpest pencil on the desk,

'What do you mean boss?'

'Give me strength you dolt; do you think he had anything to do with them going missing?'

'Don't know boss.'

'Where did you see this stranger?'

'He was just about to go into an old ladies' place in Alderman Avenue; we know her because we've turned her over a couple of times.'

'And you say he was with Maisie?'

'Yeah boss.'

'Interesting. I've been wondering what's become of that little slut.' Jack and Maisie were considered an item for a short while. It was a time when Maisie was at her lowest. Jack had never forgiven her for running out on him and thereafter always considered her a threat. Jack reached across and grabbed Chopper by the throat. 'I want you to find Shinzy and bring him here; do you understand?'

Chopper choked and gasped a reply that was taken to be a yes. Jack let go of him and he scurried out of the room. Jack turned to his lieutenant. 'Ice, go and collect the package and then I'd like you to deal with this stranger; I want Maisie brought back here.' Jack passed him a brown envelope to give in exchange for the goods he was to collect. 'When you get back go to the old woman's place, Chopper and Shinzy will show you where it is and then do what you have to do. Find out if she knows anything. Sort the stranger out so that he doesn't come on my patch again and make sure you bring Maisie back here.'

Ice left and Al emerged from the corner of the room; he had heard everything.

'Why do you need to bring Maisie back here Dad? She hasn't done anything has she?'

'Mind your own business shrimp and stop ear wigging my conversations.'

Jack raised his hand in a gesture of a slap. Al winced and backed off. He remembered the back of his father's hand very well. He also remembered how kind Maisie was to him and yet how unhappy she was. He hoped Ice couldn't find her.

Maisie and Alfie were up and about and had eaten breakfast. Alfie was savouring one of Maisie's cups of coffee.

'I think I'll pay Mrs Thoms a visit and see how she's getting on. Do you want to join me?' Maisie asked.

'Yeah, that's a good idea. We haven't seen her for a few days. You go over there and I'll follow after I've finished this coffee.'

Maisie was blissfully happy even though she had accepted that her time with Alfie was limited. She was living for the moment and cherished the feeling of security and comfort she got from being around him. He was kind, sensitive and caring; in fact, all of the things she wished for and had not experienced from the men in her life before. No matter how short her time with Alfie was to be she was determined to enjoy every minute of it. She put on her coat and said a cheery goodbye. 'See you in a short while, and don't be too long with that coffee.'

Alfie sat a while just staring at the now empty cup; the coffee was an excuse for him to spend a little time trying to figure out how he could get to Jack. He knew that no matter what he did, the book was the key. He didn't realise just how long he had spent considering the options and got up to go and join Maisie at Mrs Thoms.

He shut the door behind him and looked towards Mrs Thoms' house; a car was parked outside with the kerbside doors open. Two men were dragging Maisie from the house towards the car. One held his hand over her mouth to stifle her screams; the other dragged and pulled her into the car. Before the passenger door closed she shouted out: 'Alfie, Alfie, please...' She was then shoved into the rear seat, the driver revved the engine and the car sped off.

Alfie screamed out: 'Maisie, no,' and made a futile attempt to chase the car.

Her tear-stained face appeared at the rear window as the car disappeared from view. Alfie reached Mrs Thoms' house and had to give up the chase.

He sat on the pavement with his head in his hands. Anger raged inside him and he vowed that if they harmed her he would find them and make them pay.

In the car Maisie was sobbing and calling out for Alfie.

Ice snarled at her: 'Don't worry; I'll see to your boyfriend later so don't get too attached cause he won't be around very long. Anyway, you'll have the boss for company soon.' They all laughed except for Maisie.

Alfie suddenly remembered Mrs Thoms and dashed into her house through the still wide open door. The sight that confronted him came as a severe shock, even though he had seen more than someone of his age should ever have seen. Mrs Thoms had been badly beaten and her room ransacked. He stepped over the upturned furniture and broken ornaments to get to her. She lay on the floor, her face bloodied and bruised, and he was convinced she was dead. After checking her pulse and for any sign of life his worst fears were confirmed. Alfie sat on the floor cradling Mrs Thoms' lifeless body in his arms, wishing that she was just unconscious and would soon wake up. He cursed those responsible for this crime and promised himself, with every fibre of his body, that he would see Jack Madden destroyed one way or another. Right now, he needed to get hold of Sergeant Adams, who would deal with this officially. He gently raised Mrs Thoms' head and moved his legs from under her, reached across for a cushion and rested her head on it. Alfie knew it was a futile gesture but couldn't leave her just lying on the floor. He headed for the railway station. He knew there was a telephone box on the way so he could phone Sergeant Adams as arranged. He phoned the number and waited for an answer. A voice eventually announced: 'Detective Sergeant Adams, Wensford CID.'

Alfie didn't say anything and after a short pause replaced the receiver. Charlie Adams put on his coat and left to go to the railway station. He arrived just after Alfie.

'What's the problem?' he asked.

'There's been a murder Sergeant, they've wrecked her house and left her for dead.'

Alfie was distraught.

'Just a minute son, now calm down and tell me, who's been killed and where has this happened?'

'Mrs Thoms in Alderman Avenue, and they've taken Maisie.'

'Taken Maisie? Who's taken Maisie? Tell me from the beginning exactly what you saw.'

Alfie took in a deep breath and collected his thoughts. He recounted seeing the car outside Mrs Thoms' house and then Maisie being dragged into it. He recognised Shinzy but not the other one, who appeared to be a bit older. He couldn't see who was driving. He described trying to catch the car but failed so he went into Mrs Thoms' house to find her lying on the floor dead, and her property trashed.

'So, who do you think was responsible for this Mr Mills?'

'You know damn well who is responsible Sergeant. Jack Madden, that's who. Who else would want to forcibly take Maisie?'

Alfie's anger rose.

The Present

'There's someone coming, get in here quick.'

DS Adams grabbed Alfie by the arm and manhandled him into a small, disused room.

'Get your head down boy and keep down, it could be some of Jack's goons looking for you.'

John parked the car and switched the headlights off; he walked onto the station platform and waited.

Alfie whispered to DS Adams: 'It's John, we're ok.'

They both came out of the room and emerged from the shadows.

'John, what are you doing here?'

John almost jumped out of his skin.

'Alfie, what the hell, I've been looking all over for you, I need to talk to you.'

Charlie Adams interrupted.

'We still have quite a discussion to complete Mr Carter but seeing as you are here now, you may as well join us.'

Alfie recounted the turn of events to John and he was clearly shocked at the news of Mrs Thoms.

'Why would they want to take Maisie?' John asked.

'That was the question I was asking when you showed up Mr Carter.'

'I don't know, maybe she saw what they did to Mrs Thoms and they couldn't leave her there,' Alfie replied.

'No, Alfie, we both know why Jack would be interested in Maisie. He wants to know how much she knows about the book.'

Alfie was incensed.

'How could you John, we promised Maisie that we wouldn't say anything about what she knows. You have betrayed her trust and mine too.'

Charlie Adams cut in.

'Don't get too excited boys; we've known about Jack's book for a long time, we just haven't been able to get hold of it. As for Maisie, I've always figured that if anyone knew where it was it would be her.'

'What about the boy, Al, Jack's son, could he be a way in. Could we persuade him to give us the book?'

'Turn against his own father, I don't think so Alfie.'

'That would depend on how much he hated his father, wouldn't it?' Alfie replied angrily.

Charlie Adams, sucked on his teeth and looked at his watch.

'Look, I have to mobilise a forensic team and get my boys over to Mrs Thoms'. I can't spend any more time here. I would suggest you go back home or wherever it is you're staying. I will contact you tomorrow if I find out anything about Maisie. In the meantime, keep your heads down. I'll be driving past Jack Madden's place this evening and will call in on him. He will be told it's purely a routine call in the course of our inquiries about the attack on Mrs Thoms. I should be able to get an idea about whether he's nervous about anything; I know he doesn't like his boys causing him complications.'

John and Alfie got in their car.

'Wait until he goes and stay behind him John. I want to see where Jack lives.'

'I hope you're not thinking of doing anything reckless.'

'No, not yet.' Alfie had a steely glint in his eye.

John shook his head despairingly and started the car. They could see DS Adams' tail lights and followed at a discreet distance.

Within a few miles, DS Adams' car slowed down and turned into a driveway. John slowed, switched the lights off and looked at Alfie.

'Well, what now?'

'Let's just wait a while.'

Alfie watched intently.

Madden's house was quite large and set in its own grounds, the area of land wasn't massive but sufficient to provide the privacy he needed. Alfie noted security lights situated at various points on the exterior walls of the house, with at least two powerful halogen lamps pointing directly down the driveway. No-one could approach the house at night from any direction without being exposed.

Alfie spotted a small gap in the trees opposite the house on the other side of the road and it was just big enough for a small car. 'Let's come back tomorrow morning and park in that gap over there. I want to see who comes and goes and whether Jack leaves. If he does there may be an opportunity to get in there.'

John looked aghast at Alfie.

'You're not serious, are you?'

'Why not? The police aren't going to find Maisie and, anyway, they would have no reason to search his place even if they were of a mind to do so.'

'But we will have no idea who he has left behind and what we would be up against. Alfie, you need to consider what you are suggesting very carefully.'

'John, I know what I have to do and I'm not going to walk away from Maisie and let Jack Madden win. I don't care what the cost is to me.'

'Let's at least go back to Maisie's and sleep on it.'

Alfie nodded his agreement.

Ice had opened the door to DS Adams and announced him to his boss.

'Good evening Detective, to what do I owe the pleasure?' Jack got up and walked to his drinks cabinet. 'Can I interest you in a very fine scotch, Detective?' He was secretly very surprised to see DS Adams. He was one copper he had not been able to get at and therefore it worried him slightly him being here.

'No thank you, not whilst I am working Mr Madden. There's been an incident today, in which an elderly woman has been attacked in her own home. She was injured so severely that she has died from her injuries. We are now treating this as a murder and we are calling on any high-profile citizens, particularly those who have staff in their employ. We need to know if you can account for all of your staff's movement this morning. If there are any that cannot be accounted for then we would like to speak to them. Purely routine you understand.'

Jack's demeanour didn't change but inwardly he was worried and very angry.

'Yes of course Sergeant, you'll have my full cooperation. I am horrified that something like this should happen, I will speak to my PA tomorrow morning and be in touch as soon as I have done so, although I am sure that none of my staff would be involved in something as terrible as this.' Jack detected the incredulous look in Charlie Adams' eyes and averted his own.

'Thank you for your time Mr Madden. I look forward to hearing from you tomorrow.'

'It will be my pleasure Detective Sergeant. I'll tell you what, I've just had an idea. I am calling into town tomorrow, why don't I come and see you instead of you having to come out here again?' Jack had spotted a possible opportunity to put DS Adams in a difficult position with his colleagues, especially those on Jack's payroll. They would see their paymaster talking to someone outside the 'membership' and that would set a few hares running and may even result in one of them getting rid of this honest copper, he hoped.

Charlie Adams was puzzled by the sudden display of good citizenship by this lowlife but agreed to go along with it. 'I'll see you tomorrow then, goodnight.'

Jack had an uneasy feeling about this. As soon as DS Adams had got into his car and turned onto the main road, Jack slammed the front door almost off its hinges and screamed out: 'Ice, get in here now and bring me those two brainless idiots that were with you today.' His face was red, veins stood proud in his neck and his jaw was set rigid.

Ice, Chopper and Shinzy joined Jack in his main room. Ice lived up to his name and was perfectly calm and in control, the other two were quivering wrecks.

Jack's eyes narrowed as he stared at Shinzy and Chopper. 'You idiots, which one of you is responsible for killing the old lady?' The tone and pitch of Jack's voice was low and malevolent.

Each was quick to blame the other and they started to argue.

Jack bellowed: 'Shut up, you boneheads.' His yell silenced them instantly.

Ice interrupted: 'I'm afraid it was both of them boss. I'd got the old woman's address and agreed to meet them there in my car. When I arrived, they were both giving her a good hiding. I had to stop them, but I think I was too late. Then Maisie burst in and saw what was going on so I just grabbed her, told Chopper to get in the car and start it up, and then got Shinzy to help me get the girl into the car. The stranger I still need to sort out is called Alfie; he saw us leaving and tried to chase after us. I would have stopped and dealt with him there and then but because of the dead woman we needed to get away sharpish.'

Jack's eyes closed momentarily, as though he was searching for guidance. They then opened wide, piercing and terrifying; the two wretches struggled to maintain some semblance of self-control.

'I asked you to find out what she knew, not bloody kill her you idiots.' Jack was now in a massive rage. He grabbed Shinzy by the neck and dragged him towards the drinks cabinet, reached over and picked up a metal skewer normally used for stirring long cocktails and thrust it into Shinzy's chest, just below the heart. The young man's mouth dropped open, his eyes distended, bulged, a large gasp of air dispelled from his open mouth and then he dropped to floor, dead.

Chopper was trembling, fearing he was next. 'I'm sorry boss, it just got out of hand, honest.'

'Shut up you imbecile, I don't want to hear anything else from you. Ice, I want you to find this Alfie tomorrow and make sure he can't identify any of you. Take one of the boys with you. Chopper, you stay here and make sure Maisie doesn't leave. I will deal with her when I get back from the police station tomorrow; I want her kept out of sight.'

Jack nodded towards the dead Shinzy. 'Oh and get rid of that, the usual place, the quarry. Make sure there's no trace of the little mishap we had here tonight.' Many of Jack's 'little mishaps' were heavily weighted down and dumped in a local disused quarry.

Young Al had hidden behind a large armchair in the corner of the room and had seen and heard everything. He had been there since DS Adams had left and was too frightened to show himself. The hatred he felt towards his father was now so powerful that he could no longer think of him without feeling a stomach-churning disgust. He had just witnessed his own father kill someone in cold blood without any shame or remorse. He wretched as he relived what he had seen, attracting his father's attention to his hiding place in the process.

'Come out of there you little sod. What have I told you about ear wigging my business.'

Jack grabbed the young boy by the collar of his jacket and hauled him from behind the chair. Al cried out, not from the pain of his father's roughness but from absolute fear.

'Please Jack don't hurt him, he's just a kid.' Maisie stood in the doorway. She didn't look at the body on the floor lying in a pool of blood but straight at Jack. He dropped the boy who scampered away out of his father's reach.

Jack couldn't hide his shock at seeing Maisie.

'You've got a cheek asking me to do anything. You ran out on me Maisie and no-one runs out on Jack Madden.'

'I know Jack, I shouldn't have but I needed some time to get clean and I would have been no good to you messed up the way I was.'

She slowly moved towards Jack and put her arms around his neck.

'Is Jack baby going to welcome me home?'

'Yes of course, dear,' then slapped her hard across the face with the back of his hand, knocking her across the room. 'How's that for a welcome home, baby? Get her out of my sight, Ice, and make sure she doesn't leave her room.' He slyly grinned at his lieutenant. 'Give her something to quieten her down,' he instructed, and threw him a small packet containing a white powder. 'I'll deal with her later.'

Ice reached down and picked Maisie up roughly, pinning her arms behind her back. The side of her face was swollen and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth.

'You're an animal Jack Madden and a coward who can only beat up on young kids and women,' she screamed at him as Ice dragged her away. 'You'll get yours soon enough Jack Madden, your time is coming.' She spat in his direction before being hauled from the room.

Jack had fortunately forgotten about young Al, who had quietly removed himself from the room. He had more important things on his mind - getting rid of Shinzy's body and now Maisie.

Al was confident that his bedroom was the safest place for him because he cannot remember his father ever coming in there. Things were different now, though. He had witnessed a murder and he was too young to understand that he was seriously in danger. Fortunately, his father's arrogant belief that his own son wouldn't dare do anything against him was some protection, for the moment. He worried about Maisie, after seeing how his father had treated her, and decided to try and find out which room they were keeping her in. He didn't know what he could do, but he had to do something. He did have an advantage in that he knew every room in the house and how to get past any locked doors. Al had made certain his father was not aware of his spare set of keys, especially the one that opened the safe behind the painting in the lounge - a cheap copy of Monet's Poppies Blooming. To young Al, the keys gave him an escape route, a place of sanctuary in any room in the house, where he could hide from the brutality of the father he now hated with such passion. He realised that as his hatred grew so did his determination and strength. Of course, he still felt extremely fearful; the consequences of him being found out were unimaginable but he was emboldened by Maisie's show of defiance. Al looked out of his window and could see the car outside being loaded up with its macabre package. They had wrapped Shinzy up in a waterproof sheet tied tightly with ship's rope and made sure there were plenty of weights in the boot to attach to the body when they discarded it into the quarry. The boy winced as he watched the surreal performance below his window. He decided to look for Maisie while his father and his helpers were busy.

Quietly leaving his room, he made his way to the back of the house; that was where he thought it most likely they would keep her. The bunch of keys was his treasured possession and he made sure they were loose in every pocket so that if discovered they would look nothing more than the contents of any teenager's pocket. He tried the first room door and, after trying several keys, it was empty. The next was also empty. At the third attempt, he saw that Maisie was lying on the bed, apparently asleep. He tried to wake her but couldn't; he knew she wasn't dead because she was moaning in her sleep, as though she was dreaming. Then he saw the hypodermic needle and residue of white powder lying on the bedside table and knew what had happened. Al shook Maisie to try and arouse her and she started to stir. Her speech was slurred and her head lolled about as though she didn't have the strength to hold it upright.

She mumbled something that he couldn't understand. Maisie licked her dry lips and repeated it: 'The book, Al, must get the book.' Her words tailed off as she fell backwards on the bed and into a drugged sleep once again.

A rage flowed through the young man's body and he prayed with all his might that somehow he could make his father pay for his crimes. He could hear movement downstairs and assumed his father had come back inside. He needed to get back to his room quickly. Al was putting his key into his bedroom door when Chopper came up the stairs.

'You coming or going Al?'

'I'm just going to bed. Where are you going?'

'Just checking on our guest, see you in the morning.'

Chopper reported to Jack that Maisie was secure and totally out of it. 'I think Ice might have given her just a bit too much juice boss.'

'Never mind, I'll wait until tomorrow to deal with her. I'm sure another dose of Jack's special 'medicine' will make her feel on top of the world.'

His face hardened. 'No-one but no-one crosses Jack Madden, ever. Do you understand that Chopper?'

'You bet boss.' Chopper inwardly shivered.

'Make sure the girl doesn't leave that room before I get back from seeing Adams at the police station tomorrow. Ice will be taking me there so if you need any help you can get some of the boys over from The Packhorse.'

Chopper stretched out on a small sofa outside Maisie's room and settled down for the night.
Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely

Lord Acton

Chapter 17
Charlie Adams arrived at the police station earlier than usual; he needed to prepare himself for a difficult day, especially as he would have the pleasure of meeting with Mr Jack Madden. There wasn't a day went by that Charlie didn't wish he could bang that crook up for good and throw away the key. As he entered the main entrance, the desk sergeant accosted him.

'Morning Charlie, you're up with the birds today. Just as well, your boss has left specific instructions that as soon as you come in you're to go and see him.'

'Ok, I'll go straight up. I'm expecting some results from forensics today on the Mrs Thoms murder; let me know as soon as they're in. Oh, and by the way, Mr Jack Madden is coming to see me today, I'm sure you will treat him with our customary hospitality.' Charlie noted the bottom jaw of the desk sergeant drop slightly at his closing comment. All of those on Jack's payroll were well aware that Charlie just might get something concrete on Jack and arrest him, and the man just being in the station presented a threat of that happening. That was dangerous for them all. Charlie bounced up the stairs to DI Morrison's office and knocked on the door. He would normally enter immediately after knocking but this time the door was locked. 'DI Morrison, you asked to see me.' There was no answer. Charlie bent down and tried to look through the keyhole but the key was on the inside. He felt a sudden foreboding and pressed hard against the door, but it gave only slightly. Then, using all of his strength, he smashed against the door with his shoulder and it burst open.

The feeling of apprehension that came upon him after he saw that the door was locked from the inside was justified. DI Morrison, David, his friend and colleague lay slumped across his desk. Some pills were scattered in front of him, a small plastic tablet bottle was on its side and resting on an envelope addressed for the specific attention of Charlie Adams, together with a half-empty bottle of malt whiskey.Charlie rushed over, checked David's pulse, and concluded he had been dead for a few hours. Without touching anything on the desk, he carefully picked up the envelope and read the note inside.

My dear friend,

Look no further than Jack Madden and put him away.

Charlie, please tell my wife I'm sorry but I am now free.

He carefully put the note in his inside pocket and, using his handkerchief, picked up the phone on David's desk and phoned the station duty sergeant. 'This is DS Adams, get a doctor and call my crime team to come up to DI Morrison's office straight away, I'm afraid that he is dead. I want absolutely nothing said about this until the doctor and crime team have finished what they have to do. Do I make myself clear Gerry?'

'Yes of course, Charlie. What the hell has happened?'

'I'm not sure yet but we'll find out soon enough.' He replaced the phone. Charlie noticed that the right-hand drawer of the desk was unlocked and open and went closer to inspect it. Using his handkerchief, he picked up one of the envelopes and opened it; there must have been several hundred pounds in it and there were many similar envelopes. He knew he was taking a big chance but he put the envelope and cash in his inside pocket along with the suicide note. It was just a feeling but he somehow felt he needed to protect what might become evidence later.

The doctor rushed into the office and quickly set about examining DI Morrison. Charlie's crime team followed very soon behind and immediately got on with their well-practised drill.

Charlie issued his instructions. 'I want every inch of this office searched and every item documented. Do not, I repeat, do not remove anything unless it is bagged and tagged. Do you understand me?'

There were one or two mumbled acknowledgements.

'I said do you understand me?' Charlie was stern and uncompromising. There was a resounding: 'Yes Sergeant' from those present. He took one of his trusted team members, DC Gary Foden, to one side. 'Seal this office off Gary and note the names of everyone involved here. I mean everyone, including you and me. Do not allow anyone in here that shouldn't be here and if anyone does insist on coming in stay with them, watch everything they do and let me know who it is, ok?'

Gary acknowledged with just a nod of his head and that was sufficient for Charlie who had complete faith in him to do what he had been asked.

Photographs were taken of the body, its position, and the surroundings, and the paramedics then removed it.

The doctor approached Charlie.

'It looks very much like suicide Charlie; given the amount of barbiturates he's swallowed. We'll need a full autopsy and forensic analysis before I can be certain. I'll let you know as soon as I have anything further to tell you.'

'Are there any signs of a struggle, any bruising that might indicate it wasn't suicide?' Charlie didn't need to ask the question; he had the letter in his pocket but asked it anyway because it would have been a question he'd have asked in the absence of a suicide note.

'No, nothing Charlie. It looks like he took the tablets and a half bottle of very good whiskey without any help from anyone. Anyway, I thought you said the door was locked from the inside?'

'Yes, of course, sorry. I haven't got my head around this yet.'

One of the crime team in white coveralls and wearing gloves called out: 'Hey Sarge, look at this lot.'

He was pointing to the open drawer in the desk. 'I've just looked at some of these envelopes. They're full of cash.'

Charlie looked at the drawer and feigned surprise. 'Bag and tag them constable, and make sure it is checked for fingerprints. I want every note and envelope checked thoroughly. If there are any prints see if we can get a match from central database. I'll be in my office if anyone needs me. Listen in everyone if any of this gets out to the press before we're ready to release it formally then I'll be looking for the culprit who leaks it and I promise I will hang him out to dry.' Charlie sat down at his desk and remembered his last conversation with his friend David. 'You have the power to stop it,' he had said. He wondered if those words had influenced David to take such drastic action. Could he have prevented it in any way? He unlocked his desk and, using his handkerchief, carefully removed the suicide note and the envelope of cash, placing them in the drawer. He informed the Chief Inspector of what had happened and asked who should tell his wife. Strangely, the Chief's first concern was whether David had left a note. If there was one, did it say anything that would indicate why he took his own life?

Charlie was convinced that he needed to keep what he had found to himself until he could get outside help. 'No, sir, no note. At least not one we have found yet. My boys are still looking.'

The Chief Inspector sounded relieved. 'Very well, keep searching. I'm sure there must be something. I will personally go and see Mrs Morrison and will take a WPC with me. I want to be informed the minute anything of significance is found.' The tone and nervousness in the Chief's voice told Charlie all he needed to know; it was imperative that he now get help from outside the force area.

The telephone rang on his desk and broke into his thoughts, it was Gerry, the desk sergeant 'There's a Mr Madden here to see you Detective. Where shall I ask him to wait?'

'Interview room 1, I'll be down shortly.' He needed to keep him waiting and sweating as long as possible.

Charlie rang a friend of his in the Met and arranged a meeting. He was limited in what he could say on the phone but was able to get across that it was urgent without it sounding obviously so. They agreed to meet the next day. DS Adams now needed to see Jack Madden and try to rattle him. Later he would call on David's wife. He could only imagine what agony she will go through once she is told what has happened and particularly why it happened when it emerges.

Alfie and John sat in the car sufficiently hidden by overgrown bushes but with enough of a view of the entrance to Jack's house. Jack Madden's car came out of the driveway driven by Ice with Jack sat in the back. He was on his way to his appointment with DS Adams.

Alfie opened the car door and started to get out when John grabbed his arm.

'Where the hell do you think you're going young man?'

'This is my chance John; I've got to get Maisie out of there.'

'You don't know who he has left behind or how long before he will get back. It's too risky Alfie.'

Alfie broke free. 'Don't worry about me, I'll be ok. See you back at Maisie's.' He ran off towards Jack's house.

John was unsure whether to follow Alfie or wait in the car. He decided on the latter. It was Alfie who had to win this battle; he would only intervene if he needed help.

Jack Madden sat in the interview room with his topcoat draped across his shoulders, Italian style, and looked at his watch several times. He was starting to get impatient and his anger was rising; Jack knew that when that happened he was less in control.

Charlie Adams entered the room and Jack stood up and was the first to speak. 'Ah, at last Detective. I thought you had forgotten me.'

'There's no chance of that Mr Madden, please sit down. Were you able to establish all the movements of your staff yesterday?'

'Absolutely Detective, I'm happy to say we can account for everyone. So, if you don't mind, I'll leave now, I've a very busy schedule today.'

'I don't think that will be possible just yet Mr Madden. You see, we have a positive ID of one of your men helping two others force a young woman into a car that's registered in your name. Now, Mr Madden can you explain that you have already said you have accounted for all of your staff and yet in one of your cars one of your employees is seen manhandling this young woman outside the murder victim's house?'

'I have been told by my PA that everyone was accounted for, so I have no idea what my car would be doing there and who was in it. Can you name the staff member who was allegedly identified?'

'It was a Brian Betts, commonly known on the street as Shinzy.'

'Ah, Shinzy has not worked for me for some days now. In fact, I've not seen him at all since he left.'

'So how do you explain his use of one of your cars?'

'I've had enough of these puerile questions Detective and unless you're prepared to charge me with an offence then I will not answer any more. In fact, I insist on being able to phone my solicitor immediately.'

Charlie pointed to the phone. 'Very well, be my guest. You do realise that I am investigating a murder of an elderly woman and your car and possibly some of your men are implicated.'

Madden glared at Charlie. 'If you don't mind, I believe I am allowed to make this call in private.'

Charlie got up and left the room; standing just outside the door. He could hear much of what Jack was saying.

'Get in touch with you know who and get him to get this monkey off my back or there will be hell to play. I want out of here now.'

Charlie gave him sufficient time to finish his conversation and re-entered the room. 'I take it your brief will be here shortly Mr Madden?'

Jack's eyes narrowed as they do when he is particularly enraged and he leaned across the table. 'You have no idea what you're getting yourself into Detective. Think carefully about your next move.'

'Is that a threat Mr Madden?'

'No, of course not Detective, just offering some friendly advice.'

The telephone rang, Charlie picked it up. 'Detective Sergeant Adams.'

The Chief Inspector was shouting down the phone insisting that Jack Madden be released. Charlie tried to protest but couldn't say too much in front of the suspect. He wanted to tell the Chief about David's suicide note and the bundles of money; how the man across the desk from him was responsible but realised that it was futile. Madden's solicitor had obviously phoned 'you know who' and that 'you know who' was the top man. God knows how many others he has in his pocket Charlie thought. It was unprecedented for a Chief Inspector to get involved in the routine enquiries of a criminal investigation and certainly not to demand the release of a material suspect. He had been well and truly got at.

'After Mr Madden has been released, I want to see you in my office Detective Sergeant.'

'Yes of course, sir.' Charlie put the phone down. 'You're free to go now Mr Madden, but do not leave town, I will want to speak to you again. You may at that time perhaps be in a position to explain what your car and men were doing at the murdered woman's house.'

Jack just smirked, adjusted the topcoat on his shoulders and left the interview room.

Charlie prepared himself to receive the Chief Inspector's bollocking and strict instructions to keep away from Jack Madden.

The Chief Inspector's secretary announced Charlie's arrival and a gruff, abrupt voice on the intercom replied: 'Send him in.'

'Sit down Charlie. Now what's all this business with Jack Madden? He has some very powerful friends who can make it difficult for us.'

'No-one is above the law sir, as I'm sure you will agree.'

'Don't be bloody clever with me Detective Sergeant; you know damn well that if he has broken a law then let's charge him. If you don't have any evidence then we have no right holding or interrogating him.'

Well sir, I believe he has something to do with the murder of the old woman, Mrs Thoms. Although I don't think he was actually involved, some of his men certainly were.'

'Do you have any proof of this?'

'Yes, I have an eyewitness.'

'Who is this witness and where is he?'

'His name is Alfie Mills, sir, and I don't know where he is at the moment.'

'Do you have a sworn statement from him?'

'Well,' there was a long uncomfortable pause, 'no we don't sir.'

The CI was apoplectic.

'So what the hell were you thinking of Detective, interrogating Mr Madden on such flimsy grounds?'

'There was something else, sir, which I couldn't raise with him at this juncture because it would have been too sensitive an issue given we are still collecting evidence surrounding DI Morrison's death.'

'Enlighten me, Detective Sergeant.'

'In DI Morrison's desk drawer was a number of brown envelopes that contained cash. I believe these were payoffs for some sort of services rendered by the DI for Mr Madden.'

'Are you suggesting that DI Morrison was taking bribes? How do you know they were anything to do with Mr Madden. Was there a note with them? Did it have his name on them?'

'No, there was no note or anything written on them but they're being tested now for fingerprints and I believe we will find Mr Madden's prints all over them. As to whether he was taking bribes, I'm afraid the evidence points that way, sir, and something he said to me the day before his death would suggest that he felt enormous guilt and it got too much for him.'

'Mr Madden does not have a criminal record therefore his prints will not be on the database. So how will you know the prints on the notes will be his?

'That's why I was hoping to detain Mr Madden. Usual process, sir, take fingerprints of all those who may be involved if for nothing else but to eliminate them from enquiries.'

The Chief Inspector was looking decidedly uncomfortable; Charlie was getting dangerously close to having Jack Madden in the bag. That meant he was personally extremely vulnerable.

'Very well, Detective, keep off Mr Madden's back until you have concrete evidence against him and I want to know what that is before you bring him in again.'

Charlie left the Chief Inspector's office extremely deflated and was to be further dejected when he returned to his office. PC Gary Foden was waiting for him.

'Any news on the fingerprints off the banknotes yet Gary?'

'I'm afraid there's bad news gov, the envelopes and cash have disappeared, so they never got to the lab.'

'What the hell do you mean, they've disappeared? How could that have happened, you were there all of the time weren't you?'

'I got a message that I was to go to the Chief Inspector's office straight away. I didn't know why, but it was the Chief Inspector so I went. When I got there, his secretary said that the CI had not sent for me so I rushed back to the DI's office realising that it was a deliberate attempt to get me out of the room. I didn't know why until I saw the desk drawer was empty. I promise gov, I was only gone ten minutes.'

'It's ok Gary, you weren't to know. They clearly didn't want those prints checked out. Do you remember at what time you called up to the CI's office?'

'Yes gov, I remember it well, it was just after you had left because his secretary said: "You've just missed your boss."

'Someone in this nick is doing Madden's dirty work, Gary. Get me a list of everyone who was in that office when you were called away and another list of who was there when you got back. My guess is that the money is still here.'

Gary produced the list Charlie had asked for. The names were the same before and after he had been called away except for Gerry, the desk sergeant, who was leaving DI Morrison's office as Gary approached it.

Charlie picked up the phone and another desk officer answered it.

'This is DS Adams I want to speak to Gerry, constable, get him to the phone for me.'

'I'm afraid you've missed him DS; he left about fifteen minutes ago. Something about having a bad stomach.'

Charlie slammed down the phone.

'Damn, he's scarpered and no doubt took the evidence with him. I think it's time I got my friends from the Met down here, this is getting out of hand.'

'Won't that be a problem for the Chief Inspector if you don't clear it with him gov?'

'Unfortunately, he's is part of the problem, Gary, so I'm going to have to go around him. Do me a favour, watch my back for me, I'm going to need all the help I can get.'

'Course, gov, I'll do whatever it takes.'

John watched Jack's car turn into his drive. 'Damn, what's Alfie doing?' There was no sign of him and now Jack Madden was back he could be in serious trouble.

Jack got out of the car and instructed Ice: 'Find that Alfie guy. Take as many boys as you need but find him and I don't care how long it takes; he appears to be the one that fingered you and Shinzy grabbing Maisie at the old woman's house. Get him out of the way and Charlie Adams has nothing.'

Ice got back behind the wheel and drove back out, passing John as he exited the drive.

Alfie was at the back of the house trying to find a way in without alerting any of the guards Jack had left behind when young Al spotted him.

'Who are you and what are you doing at my Dad's house?'

'My name's Alfie and I'm here because I want to get Maisie out of here. I know she's here Al and I'm certain you don't want to see her harmed, do you?'

'No I don't but if my Dad finds you he'll kill you. I've already watched him murder Shinzy. He has a wicked temper and you don't want to cross him.'

'I know exactly what he is like Al; Maisie has told me all about him, which is why we need to get her out of here. Will you help me?'

'Would you be shocked if I told you that I hate my father?'

'Not at all Al and I would understand. You have put up with a lot and I know you're a good kid who deserves better. So does Maisie, so will you help me?'

'Yes, what do you want me to do?'

'First, I need to know where she is being kept and how many of your Dad's men are in the house. Then I need to find a way into the house without being seen. Can that be done?'

'I will get you in but you will have to make your own way to Maisie's room. It's locked at the moment but I have a key and will unlock it.'

Al looked up and pointed out roughly where the room was. It had no window and was on the first floor but could be identified by its unique oak carved door. 'There's only Chopper here, the rest are all out doing different jobs for Dad. Ice has gone off somewhere but I don't know where. He's the one you need to avoid; he's not like the others.'

'Thanks, Al. Now show me the way in.'

Al took Alfie through the rear entrance and into the house. Alfie followed and had not stopped to realise that he was in fact talking to his other self; he hadn't had time to think about it.

Once inside the house, Al turned nervously to Alfie and showed him the direction he should go to get to Maisie's room. He was about to part company with Alfie when he spotted his father heading for the stairs. He pushed Alfie out of sight behind a corner wall and held his finger over his lips.

He stepped out of the room. 'Hi Dad, where have you been?'

'Mind your own business, runt, and keep out of my way. I am really not in the mood for you right now.' He carried on up the stairs shouting: 'Chopper, where the bloody hell are you?'

Chopper came scampering to the top of the stairs. 'Here boss, I'm here.'

'I take it our guest is still enjoying our hospitality.'

'Sorry boss, what guest?'

'Maisie you bloody idiot.'

'Oh right, yeah, she's ok but I think she's still juiced up. I think Ice overdid it a bit last night. She's coming to but a bit groggy.'

'Well, she's going to be more than groggy in a short while. I've a little gift for her.' He waved a small plastic bag in the air and laughed. 'When she's had this I want you to take her down to the old railway station and dump her. As far as the police are concerned, she'll be just another junkie who's OD'd. Go and get the other car out of the garage and bring it around the front.'

Al listened to this with horror. He rushed back to where he had left Alfie to tell him what he had heard but he had gone.

Alfie had decided to go back and speak to John, to tell him to go and get DS Adams. He recounted his conversation with Al and persuaded John to go and tell the Detective Sergeant. John pleaded with Alfie to be careful and then watched as the young man re-entered Jack's domain. John drove off knowing that he had to bring DS Adams as quickly as possible.

Jack walked into the room where Maisie lay on the bed. Nothing was clear for her, it was all a foggy mist, so she didn't recognise who had entered. Maisie didn't react either when she heard his voice; she was too weak.

'Hello Maisie, missed me have you? I've got a little present for you.'

She was too weak to respond.

Jack prepared a syringe and mixed the white crystals with some water, then filled the pump with a lethal dosage of heroin. He knew that users who injected often overdosed because it was quite common. He grabbed her arm and she tried to pull away but was too exhausted. He needed to make sure that the needle entry was in the right direction, as if she was injecting herself. Pointing her arm away from him, he plunged the needle into her and drained the container. He got up and threw her back onto the bed; the effects of the drug were almost immediate.

Al didn't know what to do, his father was going to kill Maisie; he couldn't let that happen. Rage engulfed the young man and all fear left him. He went to the kitchen and took a sharp knife from the knife block. 'I'm not going to let him do this to her,' he said, and bounded up the stairs. He concealed the knife behind his back as he entered the room.

Jack was leaning over Maisie having administered his deadly poison. He turned swiftly when he heard the door open. 'What the fuck are you doing here? Get out before I kick your arse you little...'

'What have you done to her Dad?'

Al tried to peer past his father at Maisie's prostrate body and saw the needle and a residue of white powder.

'I told you to mind your own business and get out of here didn't I?'

Al exposed the knife in his hand.

'Get away from her Dad. She needs an ambulance, you've hurt her haven't you?'

Jack stood to his full height and laughed, his hands on his hips. 'Now what are you going to do with that then? I know for certain that the little runt that I have the misfortune to call my son wouldn't have the bottle to do anything to his lovely daddy, now would he,' he mocked.

He was so busy laughing and mocking that he didn't react to Al lunging forward at such speed and with such rage, plunging the knife into his father's belly.

Jack looked down in shock and disbelief at the knife protruding from his gut and sank to his knees. His shirt started to change colour to a bright crimson as his lifeblood spilled out of him. He fell backwards, gasping.

'What the hell have you done you little... Get a doctor quick. Al, please phone the paramedics before I bleed to death. For god's sake help me.' He was in a semi sitting position against the wall next to the bed, clutching his stomach.

Al stood there motionless.

The door sprang open and Alfie burst in. His immediate concern was Maisie. He rushed to her side and gently lifted her head from the bed. She was semi-conscious and her pulse was hardly noticeable. Alfie tried frantically to rouse her but she was losing consciousness and her pulse became still. Alfie had promised John that he would stay in control of his emotions no matter what happened but he couldn't contain what he felt right now, cradling Maisie in his arms. Tears rolled down his face and he gently kissed her on the lips, which were now blue and cold.

Jack was still groaning and begging his son to get a doctor, Al remained frozen.

Alfie got up from the bed and walked around the other side to where Jack sat semi propped up against the wall.

'Who the hell are you?' Jack winced as he spoke.

'Hello Jack, my name's Alfie, Alfie Mills. You don't know me but I know you and I have a score to settle.'

'Get a doctor for Christ's sake, the little sod has stabbed me.'

'Has he now, well we can't have that can we.'

It was Alfie's turn to mock. Alfie took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the handle of the knife so that it was completely clean and not too gently either. Jack was now very weak and cried out with pain; he tried to grab Alfie's arm, but Alfie gripped his arm tightly and looked Jack squarely in the eyes before casting it to one side. Putting the handkerchief in his pocket, he grasped the knife handle with his bare hand. Jack's eyes widened.

'What the hell are you doing? Don't kill me please don't kill me, get a doctor, I'm bleeding to death here.'

'I'm just paying back some old debts Jack. No, I'm not going to finish the job that Al has so admirably started, that would be too good for you. Perhaps when you eventually die you may end up somewhere where you will really pay for all the wrongs you've done.'

Al was still transfixed, but Alfie just sat on the bed and smoothed Maisie's hair from her face.

Jack gasped his last breath and his head rolled to one side.

Al looked on aghast. 'Why did you wipe my prints off the knife, they'll blame you now.'

'Yes I know Al but when I cleaned the knife handle of your prints I might have been a little rough, so I probably helped him along a bit. You don't have to say anything ok; you came in here and found your father like this. Let them come looking for me; I promise you Al I will be just fine. I need you to promise me something in return.'

'Anything Alfie. What is it?'

'You'll be on your own now because I know you don't have any family, so use what he leaves behind wisely. Make sure Maisie gets a decent funeral and get rid of all the low life that hangs around here. DS Adams will help you with that. Finally, get the book that your father kept and give it to no-one except Detective Sergeant Adams, he will be here shortly. It's important Al, no-one but DS Adams. It will go a long way to making this place better to live in. If it gets into the wrong hands then all this,' Alfie pointed to Maisie and Jack, 'will have been for nothing.'

'Yes I understand Alfie. But where will you go if the police are going to try and arrest you for Dad's murder?'

'Don't worry; I'll be in a place where they won't be able to follow, trust me. Now go get the book, quickly.'

Al scampered away and Alfie went to Maisie's side for the last time. He lay by her side and tucked her head into the crook of his arm, just as he had done before.

'I know you are now in a better place Maisie and I wish I was with you but at least I know you are happier than you have ever been. And sad as it is for me, you won't remember the short time we had together.'

He kissed her softly, got up and whispered: 'Goodbye.'
To attain happiness in another world we need to believe something, while to secure it in this world we must do something.

Charlotte Perkins Gilman

Chapter 18
Alfie left the house by the same route that he came in and made his way to the space in the bushes where John and he had watched the house-entrance driveway. John was waiting in the car when Alfie joined him. He was relieved to see him in one piece. 'DS Adams is on his way Alfie and I believe he has a team with him from the Met. Something has happened and it looks like he may finally have evidence against Jack Madden; it's obviously conclusive enough for him to bring in the Met.'

'No-one needs to worry about Jack Madden anymore.' Alfie paused. 'He's dead. Before he died he gave Maisie a massive drug overdose and now she is dead too and I couldn't save her.' Devastation was written large on Alfie's face.

John was shaken. 'What happened? How did he die? Did you kill him Alfie?'

'I won't say who killed him, and it's not important anyway but he is dead and I'm not the least bit sorry. He looked exactly like my stepfather so I knew that he died in my real world when he killed my mother; I didn't have to kill him.'

Alfie gave John the full story about how he had entered the room and found Maisie virtually unconscious on the bed. About how he had frantically tried to revive her and how she had died in his arms. He explained that Jack was dying of a serious knife wound and that he had made sure it was only Alfie's fingerprints on the knife and no-one else's.

John had figured it out. 'It was Al, his son, wasn't it?'

'It doesn't matter John, the most important thing is that Al has got the book and he is a witness to what Jack and his gang have been up to, including several murders. I told him specifically to give the book to DS Adams and to make sure Maisie has a decent burial. I know he'll do what's right for this town now.'

'Alfie, I'm truly sorry about Maisie. I know you thought a lot of her. I wish there was something more I could say. I know what it's like to lose a loved one and it hurts a lot.'

Alfie's face was certainly full of hurt and sadness.

John moved quickly on. 'Why did you leave your prints behind Alfie? Surely you must know that you'll be hunted down for Madden's murder?'

Alfie smiled confidently. 'Firstly, they don't have my prints on record here and, secondly, I am now going to head back to the white gate and go to see Mr K for the last time, so I'll be well gone before they start looking for me. I'm not sure they'll spend a lot of time looking for Jack's murderer anyway; they'll have far bigger fish to fry when they get the book off Al.'

John was suddenly elated. 'Does that mean you are going back to pick up your life in your own world and we don't have to come back here?'

'I guess that is the plan, Headmaster, sir.'

John laughed heartily; it was the first time Alfie had referred to him as Headmaster or called him sir for as long as he could remember. 'Well young Master Madden, I suggest you get moving. I have to go to Madden's house, I was told by DS Adams to meet him there.' No sooner had John finished speaking than three police cars roared into the driveway in front of them; it was DS Adams and his team. 'You had better get going...' John started to say but Alfie had already disappeared. John drove into the driveway and parked up near the police cars.

Charlie Adams was already in the process of cautioning Chopper who had patiently waited for his boss to appear. An officer cuffed and led the hapless thug away to one of the police cars. As they approached the house Al came out carrying a ledger. 'Which one of you is DS Adams?' he asked nervously.

Charlie recognised Jack's son. 'I am. What can I do for you young man? We are rather busy and I need to talk to your father urgently.'

'I need to see your badge.'

Charlie was slightly amused and puzzled. 'Ok, here it is.'

Al carefully examined the police badge.

'Are you satisfied that I am who I say I am? Now, I need to speak to your father. Is he available?'

'No, he's not available, he's dead and he killed Maisie and Shinzy and lots of others. Here's the book that Alfie asked me to give to you.'

'Alfie? Dead? What on earth are you talking about son? We need to go inside and you should start by telling me everything from the beginning.' Charlie tucked the book under his arm and put his other arm around the shoulder of the young man, leading him into the house. He barked some orders to the team. 'Get that lowlife down to the nick,' pointing to Chopper, who was looking decidedly crestfallen in the police car, 'and send a team out to round up the rest of Jack's men. Gary, have the team stand by for when I have spoken to this young man.'

Al told DS Adams everything that had happened, omitting the part about his involvement in his father's death. He admitted that he didn't care that Alfie had fought with his father after seeing what he had done to Maisie. Neither did he care that his father was dead. Now there would no more beatings, no more being sworn at and insulted, humiliated. He felt relieved, not sad.

Charlie listened attentively and was saddened that a young boy should appear so detached after the loss of a parent but he was yet to learn what horrors the young boy had endured at his father's hand.

DS Adams called out to PC Gary Foden: 'Get the team upstairs, young Al here tells me that his father and a Maisie Butler can be found in one of the rooms on the first floor. Treat it as a crime scene, Gary, because I have no doubts that this young fellow is not making this up. Get a WPC over here to take care of Master Madden. And I want Mr Carter brought in here; I need to know where his friend Mr Alfie Mills is.'

Whilst PC Gary Foden went about his tasks, Charlie took the opportunity to scan the contents of the book. After turning a few pages Charlie's mouth hung open with what he was seeing. He called his colleague Frank Stafford from the Met and showed him a selection of its contents.

'Is that enough for us to get the Met anti-corruption unit involved?'

'Good grief, Charlie, how the hell has all this been kept under wraps? I'll get them mobilised straight away.'

Gary Foden came back into the room.

'I'm afraid Mr Carter is nowhere to be seen. One of the men saw him driving away a few minutes ago.'

'Get a call out on him; I want him brought back here. Do we have an ID on his car?'

'Strangely no, DVLA has no record of the registration or the car make Sarge.'

Charlie looked mystified. 'Have the team found anything upstairs yet?'

'Yes, and I think you should come and take a look.'

'Ok, wait here with this young man until the WPC arrives.' Charlie left with his Met colleague and found the room that the crime team was working in.

The coroner had finished examining both bodies and was waiting for the crime team to release them to the coroner's office. Charlie asked for an early appraisal of the causes of death.

'The girl definitely had a high dosage of a drug, not sure exactly what type until we carry out some tests, but she definitely overdosed. The male was stabbed in the abdomen and then slowly bled to death. Both died, in my estimation, about two hours ago.'

'Thanks, doctor.'

There was nothing to suggest that the boy had not told the truth but he was puzzled by the disappearance of John Carter and Alfie Mills. They had turned up on his manor insisting on the arrest of Jack Madden, who was now dead and they were nowhere to be seen, very odd, he thought. Instead of pursuing Mr Alfie Mills he secretly believed the young man should be given a medal for getting a hoodlum like Jack Madden off the streets; he wasn't going to expend a great deal of energy trying to bring him to account. He had more important things to do, the Met anti-corruption team had been mobilised and were waiting for deployment. All Charlie had to do was hand the evidence over to them.

He returned to the station and met up with the anti-corruption squad led by Frank Stafford. The suicide note of his friend David could now be released and the envelope of money could be checked for fingerprints. He made sure Gerry the desk sergeant was isolated and a thorough search of his house made. The important thing was that he didn't make any phone calls or speak to anyone. Charlie Adams preferred that when the inevitable arrest was to happen he would want to make it himself but he realised that he may have a bigger catch to go after and didn't want to miss it, so he let the Met team arrest him.

Later, a phone call from Frank Stafford who arrested and interviewed Gerry Cotterill gave Charlie all he needed to know for his next task. A task that was onerous yet at the same time something that would give him great satisfaction.

The Chief Inspector's secretary protested loudly as DS Adams and another officer from the Met strode past her and straight into the Chief's office.

'What on earth is the meaning of this Detective? How dare you just barge in here without an appointment?'

'Chief Inspector Allan Paceman, I am arresting you on suspicion of corruption and dereliction of duty in that you have been in receipt of illegal payments and provided services to known criminals for them to commission crimes. That you knowingly received illegal payments as a share of monies received from the sale of drugs to a known criminal. Those drugs were the property of the Crown following searches made by your officers. Anything you say will be taken down and may be used in evidence against you.'

The Chief Inspector spoke with outraged indignation. 'How dare you make accusations against me, I'm your senior officer. I am the senior officer in this bloody station, how dare you? I'll have you pounding the beat Sergeant.'

He was spluttering badly and his face was blue with rage.

'I will tell you this Chief Inspector; I have in my possession a ledger that itemises every transaction that was made by Jack Madden to every police officer, every politician and local councillor in this station and in the town. It shows times, amounts of cash paid, what was received in return and from whom. You are mentioned several times, sir. We have also arrested PC Gerry Cotterill, who has admitted that on your orders he had to remove the evidence from DI Morrison's desk and dispose of it. Unfortunately, his greed was his undoing, just like the rest of you. Instead of destroying the envelopes and cash, he decided to keep it for himself. He has now been very helpful in a number of other areas. Do you still wish to protest your innocence Mr Paceman?' Charlie emphasised the 'Mr'.

The Chief Inspector slumped back into his chair and wept uncontrollably. Charlie called on two uniforms to escort, what would soon be, the ex Chief Inspector away.

Charlie's next job was to help plan the series of arrests that would involve several police officers, local politicians and some senior figures in the town. Charlie asked Frank Stafford to arrange for the Crime Prosecution Service that covered the Met to be informed. He didn't want any local CPS lawyers involved because he trusted no-one in that organisation in Wensford.

He made a mental note that he should take a special interest in Al and perhaps help him out in some way. The boy had a lot of guts and deserved a better life.

PC Gary Foden came in with an update for Charlie.

'Absolutely no sign of either Mr Carter or Mr Mills. We ran a trace on them with Bletchford police, they have no record of anyone of that name in the town; the fingerprints on the knife have been checked and are unknown to us. So, what do you reckon I should do now Sarge? They seem as though they never existed.'

'Nothing Gary, absolutely nothing. Jack Madden is dead and good riddance, let's leave it at that. Now, we've got a town to clean up, that's what's important right now, let's get to it.'

Alfie arrived at the white gate and looked back once more at the town. He remembered Maisie and her shiny auburn hair, her hazel eyes and gorgeous smile; then there was the small beauty spot on her left cheek and, thus, the picture of her in his mind's eye was complete. He took that picture with him as he went through the gate.

He arrived at the oak tree having ambled through the meadow from the gate and was about to call out Mr K's name when he heard a voice from behind him.

'Hello Alfie, good to see you back here.' Mr K sat on his trademark bench surveying his meadow and the meandering river in the distance.

Alfie got up and sat with him on the bench.

'So, Mr K, what do I do now?'

'Well Alfie, I believe you have already decided what you do now by coming back here. I think what you're really asking is: "What do I do after I go back?" Do you remember when you first came here, you didn't know what to do, you were unsure about your destiny. I told you that there would be people around to help you and I believe that's what they did. With that help, you chose a path and fulfilled what you came here in search of. The next part of your journey will be much easier, I promise. And the people who supported you here will also be there for you in the next stage of your life. So, why don't you rest now and prepare yourself for your return.'

'But Mr K, there are so many things I need to talk to you...'

The Keeper had left and Alfie didn't get the chance to ask his questions. He fell asleep under the oak tree for the last time.

* * * * * * *

Nurse Amy Brannigan carried out her usual routine in Alfie's ward, reading dials, checking fluid levels and generally making sure Alfie was comfortable. She suddenly heard a very quiet but distinct voice coming from the direction of Alfie's bed. She listened carefully, it was Alfie and he was talking in his sleep. Amy went to the door and beckoned one of her colleagues to come to her.

She whispered: 'Get Doctor Grant and Doctor Paige here straight away, Alfie is talking.'

Nurse Brannigan went back into the side ward and tried to make out what her patient was saying.

Alfie's eyes were wide open as he lay on his side in his hospital bed; The Keeper sat alongside him and held his hand. 'I know you still want answers about Maisie Alfie.'

Alfie cut in: 'But why did she have to die Mr K? Why couldn't she have lived her life out in Wensford. It was going to be a fine place to live in?'

Amy couldn't see or hear Mr K but could hear Alfie asking questions of someone. She saw that he was now awake but kept her distance so that he would not be frightened. Whoever he was in conversation with certainly had a calming effect on him. His pulse, blood pressure and temperature were all normal for the first time since his admission. She was overjoyed but needed to contain her excitement at least until the doctors had been to see him.

'Maisie needed to move on, she had a path to choose as well Alfie. Had she chosen to stay where she was it would not have been with you. That would have meant her spending the rest of her time being unhappy. She is now in another life and I can tell you that she is very happy.'

'But where she is, she doesn't remember me.'

Alfie knew the answer and didn't expect one.

Nurse Brannigan listened intently to this one-sided conversation and was fascinated.

'No Alfie, she doesn't, that is part of her new life. It is completely separate from the life you knew her in. And I'm sorry that in making her happy it has made you unhappy but it is essential that the paths people choose can only be altered by them. I promise you Alfie, you will find what you're looking for right here, trust me.'

'What do you mean, find what I'm looking for?'

Mr K started to recede from Alfie's vision; he let go of his hand and Alfie reached for him.

'Don't go, Mr K, I'm not sure what you mean...find what am I looking for.'

Mr K had faded out of view and Alfie was now alone, apart from Nurse Brannigan standing near the doorway listening.

She tentatively walked over to his bedside.

'Are you alright Alfie? Can I get you anything?' As she got closer, she saw that he was crying softly. Amy sat by his side and gently wiped away his tears.

Doctor Grant and Jennifer Paige rushed into the ward. As they got to Alfie's side ward Nurse Brannigan held a finger to her lips, urging the doctors to be quiet.

'Alfie, Doctor Grant and Doctor Paige are here to see you, is that ok?' she asked in a very gentle tone.

Alfie nodded.

'I'll just leave you for a moment while the doctors talk to you. See you in a short while young man.'

Peter Grant approached. 'Well Alfie, you have given us quite a few scares since you came to us, but I am really glad that you appear to have recovered. All of the monitors we've got you hooked up to are reading normal. How are you feeling now, any headache, are you hungry?

Alfie turned onto his back. 'No Doctor, no headache and yes I am hungry.'

'Well, first thing is to get you unhooked from all this paraphernalia and then we can get some hot food down you. We need to get you putting some weight on.'

He suddenly noticed Doctor Paige at the end of his bed and was about to call her name when he realised that would be a little difficult to explain. So, he smiled at her and she smiled back at him. They were the smiles of friends.

'Jennifer, I'll just remove the drip and disconnect the monitor. I'm sure Alfie will feel a lot more comfortable. When we've cleared all this stuff away, I'll go and organise his dietary requirements with the nursing staff. Perhaps you would like to spend some time with Alfie.'

'Yes, thank you Doctor Grant I would.'

Whilst Peter Grant was removing various cables and tubes Amy Brannigan put her head around the door.

'Do you have a moment Doctor Paige, there are just a couple of things I need to discuss with you?'

'Yes of course Nurse. I'll be back shortly Alfie.' Jennifer smiled and winked at him as she left.

Amy ushered Jennifer to a discreet area away from the side ward and spoke in a hushed tone.

'Alfie was talking earlier. At first I thought he was asleep but then realised he was awake. I'm convinced he was in conversation with someone and he referred to him as Mr K. Of course, I understand that he was probably still in his sleep mode and was dreaming but the conversation seemed so real. He was also talking about someone called Maisie and then asked whomever he was talking to not to leave. I noticed he was quietly crying so I went over and comforted him. I don't know whether any of this is relevant, Jennifer, but I thought I would let you know.'

'I don't know what the relevance is at the moment Amy, but I'm sure it's important for Alfie's recovery. My first impression is that he is coming out of his dream state and there is a slight confusion for him as he emerges into the real world. That might explain why his conversation appeared so realistic. Thanks for letting me know, I hope I'll learn more after I have spoken to him.'

Jennifer knew, of course, what had occurred and was impatient to find out more from Alfie. 'Was Mr K really here?' she asked herself.

Doctor Grant had now finished clearing the monitors and cables away and was settling Alfie down. He was glad that Jennifer had returned so that he could get on with writing up Alfie's medical notes and plan a recovery programme. Doctor Grant noted that the boy was a bit underweight and there had been a little muscle wastage so he needed building up.

Jennifer re-entered Alfie's room as her colleague was leaving and pulled a chair up close to Alfie's bed. 'So, how are you feeling young man?'

It was difficult for both of them having to go through the charade of the doctor-patient relationship but it had to be done for a short while.

'I feel ok Doctor but I'm a bit hazy on what happened and I'm very hungry.'

The room was now empty of nursing staff and Jennifer took Alfie's hand in hers and squeezed it gently. 'I'm so glad you're back with us; John will be so pleased. By the way, where is John? Did you see him on your travels?' Jennifer looked around to make sure no-one could hear her.

'The last time I saw him was outside Jack's house; he was going in there to meet up with DS Adams who had gone to arrest Jack Madden but Jack was dead.' Alfie's eyes filled up. 'Unfortunately, so was Maisie. I tried to save her but couldn't, it was too late.'

'Tell me everything that happened Alfie, from the beginning please.'

After listening intently to the events leading up to Alfie's last contact with John, Jennifer was amazed by how much strength he showed, how, for a boy of his age, mature he had become.

'I am truly sorry to hear about Maisie, she deserved better.'

'That's ok Jennifer; I know she is happy where she is now. Although she won't remember anything of her past life, including me, at least the bad stuff that happened to her won't be part of the world she is in now. Mr K told me that and I believe him.'

'Was Mr K here with you when you woke up?'

'Yes, just for a short time. He said that I was to trust him; that I would find what I was looking for here. I didn't understand what he meant and wanted him to explain but he just faded away.'

Peter Grant popped his head around the door.

'Doctor Paige, can I have a word for a moment?'

Jennifer slipped her hand from Alfie's.

'I'll be back soon. What is it Peter?'

'I just wanted to know if you were able to gain an insight into Alfie's current state of mind. His vital signs are perfectly normal and somehow I don't think they should be at this stage. I would expect some heightened levels as his body adjusts from a deep sleep to consciousness.'

'I really can't give you an assessment just yet Peter, it's too early. I want to spend a lot more time with him in private so that he and I can build a relationship. Give me a few days or perhaps a week and I'll let you know more then.'

'Ok, but I think we should keep him in the hospital for a short time until his strength is built up and we have an idea of his emotional state following the death of his parents. Does he know yet that his stepfather and mother are dead? If he doesn't then why hasn't asked where they are? If he does know then why is he not reacting as one would expect a young boy to do in those circumstances? Lots of unanswered questions Jennifer; I trust you will provide me with some answers.'

'I'll try Peter, I'll try.' Jennifer returned to Alfie's room slightly at a loss about how they would handle those questions. 'Where on earth is John? He needs to be here helping me out and anyway I miss him.'
Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.

The important thing is not to stop questioning.

Albert Einstein

Chapter 19
John raced the car towards the white gate, fearing that the police may stop him. After being told by Alfie that Jack Madden and Maisie were dead, and given the manner of their deaths, he knew that the authorities would undoubtedly want to speak to them both. 'What, then?' he thought. 'They could be held for days. Or worse, they could be charged with the murder and locked up.' He needed to get through the gate in order to escape this other reality; this strange world that had been the centre of his dreams, yet it was every bit as real as his conscious world. The white gate was visible directly ahead of him and he raced the car towards it. He stopped and got out, checking that he had not been followed, and as he approached the gate he watched the car gradually fade and disappear; he was no longer surprised by the happenings in Mr K's world.

He slipped through the gate effortlessly and with some relief saw the familiar surroundings of the tranquil meadow with all of its wonders and, despite the number of times he had been there, he continued to be in awe of the place. He decided he would go down to the river and rest a while and take the opportunity to soak up the ambience before setting out to meet up with Jennifer. The river wasn't far away and he strolled through the wild flowers and gently waving grasses, allowing his fingers to touch them softly as he passed by. At the river, he lay down on the sloping bank that overlooked the calm waters; his thoughts drifting between Jennifer and Alfie and then this whole adventure; Mr K and the worlds through the white gates. 'How could it have been possible?' he thought. He put his hands behind his head, looked up at the sky, and marvelled at how a dream could be made so real. Then he remembered that all of the dreams that he had ever had appeared to be real whilst he was dreaming them, even when they were weird dreams. 'Wasn't that the case for everyone?' he asked himself. 'So what if when we dream we are actually entering another world? It's happened to me, to Alfie, to Jennifer - why not indeed?' John was enjoying the debate with himself and then questioned whether we would able to dream to order and re write fate or destiny.

A voice from behind him broke into his thoughts. 'Absolutely not, John.' Mr K had appeared with all the trappings of his usual visits - walking cane, soft cap and slatted bench. He leaned forward, hands resting on his walking stick. 'The dreams you have are not in your control, they are merely possibilities, views into other dimensions that may or may not provide options.'

John turned and moved to sit alongside The Keeper on his now familiar bench.

'But what about Alfie's dream then Mr K? Surely he had some control, he had to make choices?'

'Yes, that is so, but his choice was about staying in the world he was in or moving on to another. The worlds he saw with you and Jennifer were just possibilities; he could not influence them. Let me explain by use of an analogy.' 'In your dreams you are an extra in a play, if you like, you are given a script and a part to play. You cannot alter the script only play the part; how you play the part defines your uniqueness. Alfie didn't like the part he had to play so his coma was a way of trying to change it. I just gave him possibilities and, of course, some help from you and Jennifer.'

John paused after spending a little time pondering on what Mr K had said. 'I think I understand what you're saying, but what now?'

'Well John, you will go back to your world, you will be very happy with Jennifer and all you might remember of my world is that it was a dream, albeit for you, a very real one. On the other hand you may find it difficult to separate what you have experienced here with your real world. You can consider that as a quite unique privilege.' Mr K smiled warmly and touched the peak of his cap. 'Goodbye John.'

He was gone before John could ask him what had happened to Alfie, where he was and was he safe.

He found himself resting once again at the riverbank and he suddenly felt very tired as he listened to the water trickle its way across the smooth pebbles on the riverbed - he fell asleep.

* * * * * *

John awoke in his familiar bed, his hair tousled from a restless night. His first thought was to call Jennifer, then he remembered his dream. He vividly remembered Mr K telling him that all he would remember would be that it was a dream and to him personally, a very real one at that.

He thought: 'What if he and Jennifer never really fell in love, made love? What if the dream really was just that, a dream?'

His mind raced, looking for any evidence to support the belief that he and Jennifer really did fall in love and make love under the oak tree. He remembered vividly having dinner at Jennifer's apartment and drinking champagne and making love. He remembered lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bedroom, listening to music and dancing. Could all of that have been a dream? Then the smell of the rose; just thinking about it brought the aroma back to the very room he was in. What if this whole damned thing was just a crazy dream? Was this what he meant by it being difficult to separate, he wondered? Over his coffee and toast, he pondered on his earlier thoughts.

'What if I go to the hospital, see Jenny and just whisk her off her feet and kiss her? What if she slaps my face in return? What if Alfie is still in a coma and none of what we did in the other Wensford really happened?' He was full of doubts. The possibility that it could all turn out to be unreal frightened the hell out of him. Concentrating on his work would help clear his head, he hoped. He decided to go back to his old routine of putting on a clean, crisply laundered white shirt, school tie and smart suit and then drove off to Wensford Secondary.

Maureen Weston watched as the Headmaster strode into the office. He was back to his well-groomed self, immaculately turned out and very purposeful.

'Good morning Headmaster.'

'Morning Mrs Weston.'

He glanced momentarily at her to return her greeting before gliding swiftly into his office.

"My word, there's a turnaround," thought Mrs Weston. "I wonder what has happened?"

John spent the day in his office hardly making a sound. Mrs Weston noted that he had not made any calls either internal or external. John had to get things straight in his mind before he made his next move. He had decided to phone the hospital and enquire about Alfie. Depending on the response, he would then visit and hopefully casually bump into Jennifer, eager to see that sparkle in her eyes that was there in his dreams, especially at the oak tree. If that glow wasn't there then he would just have to accept that his dreams were just that; his dreams or possibilities, as Mr K would put it.

The intercom burst into life shaking him out of his thoughts.

'I have a caller for you Headmaster.'

John was completely disinterested.

'Put them through Maureen.'

The indifference in John's voice was palpable.

'John Southill Wensford Secondary speaking, how can I help?'

'Doctor Jennifer Paige here,' she said mocking his officious tone. 'John, where in heaven's name have you been, I've been waiting for you to call me or come into the hospital?'

'Jennifer,' John muttered sheepishly. 'Everything ok? I mean Alfie, is he alright?'

'John, you sound worried, what is it?'

'I can't really say on the phone but just answer this question for me Jennifer, what happened at the oak tree really did happen didn't it?'

'The oak tree, of course, it did darling, it was a special moment and... I don't suppose we should go into detail on the phone, do you?'

John shouted out: 'It was real, you remember everything?'

'Of course I do John, how could I possibly forget. What on earth is the matter, why are you asking me these questions?'

There was a long silence.

'John, I sincerely hope you're not losing it. Why don't you come over and have a chat with Alfie; he's fully conscious now and recovering.'

John recovered his composure. 'Alfie's awake?'

'He certainly is and there's so much for us to talk about, so get yourself over here and then we can go back to my place. We have some champagne to finish, remember?'

John was elated. 'Yeah, I sure do Jenny, and I'll be there in about an hour. Don't worry about me; I will explain why I asked you about the oak tree later.'

'Ok darling. Do hurry, I've missed you terribly.'

John had been riddled with doubt as a result of his conversation with Mr K and had questioned every event that had occurred in the past weeks and months, especially those he cherished the most. Having spoken with Jennifer, he was convinced that the two of them couldn't be that mistaken at the same time and about the same things. And if they were, then it would just be two crazy people who were madly in love living in a dream world. 'That'll do for me,' he thought.

Maureen had heard most of the conversation and quickly switched off her listening override on the telephone master control. She was puzzled more than shocked. There was nothing wrong with two adults speaking to each other in endearing terms; her puzzlement surrounded the reference to the oak tree. She had no idea what that was about but then thought no more about it.

John tidied his desk and left the office. 'Goodbye Maureen, I'll see you tomorrow.'

She thought he looked a lot more relaxed than he did when came in this morning and she deduced that the phone call he received had a lot to do with that.

After leaving his office, John decided that he should call on Mrs Thoms before going to the hospital, despite his burning desire to see Jennifer. He remembered how upset she was when she was told of the tragedy in Alfie's life and how she felt responsible for the events that unfolded that night. She would be so happy that Alfie had recovered and would be able to resume his life.

John parked his car outside Mrs Thoms' house and walked down the path. As had happened previously, the door opened before he had the chance to ring the bell. She had watched excitedly as he approached and moved, as quickly as her arthritic joints would let her, to open the door.

With a beaming smile, she welcomed John.

'Hello, Mr Southill, so good of you to come by, please come in and sit down, let me take your coat. Would you like a cup of tea and a biscuit?'

John smiled warmly and was always pleasantly amused when she greeted him. She would fire off numerous questions before he stepped over the threshold.

'Thank you, Mrs Thoms, that would be very nice. But if you don't mind, I'll take a rain check on the tea and biscuit because I can't stop too long; there's a very important visit I have to make.'

Mrs Thoms looked puzzled. 'I hope it's nothing unpleasant Mr Southill.'

'On the contrary Mrs T, I'm going to see and speak to Alfie.'

He waited for the news to sink in.

She threw her hands to her mouth to stifle her astonishment. 'Are you saying he's awake and you're able to talk to him? Oh my word, oh my word.'

'So I am told, but I haven't seen him yet. I'm on my way there now. I know you would like to see him Mrs T, but I believe his visitors are being limited for the moment. I promise that as soon as I can get you in to see him I will come here and pick you up personally.'

Mrs Thoms was overjoyed and rushed off into the kitchen. John was puzzled at her sudden departure and could hear lots of rustlings. She re-emerged carrying a small parcel.

'Will you take this into him for me Mr Southill. It's just a few of my iced buns, I'm sure he'll need a bit of feeding up having laid in that hospital bed for so long. Oh my, I'm so happy that he's ok.' She had a job keeping back the tears that filled her eyes, dabbing them gently with a tiny white handkerchief.

John was glad he was able to bring her this news, he had often thought of how much sadness and unnecessary guilt she must have piled upon herself. Now, he was hopefully able to remove that burden. He took charge of the small package and for the first time gave Mrs Thoms a hug. He said goodbye and left, waving to her as he got into his car.

The hospital didn't appear to be as foreboding as it had done on previous visits; Alfie was awake. The only thing that bothered him was that Jennifer appeared to have been part of the same dream. Given what The Keeper had told John, it didn't make sense that she and Alfie would be part of his dream and be fully aware of it in their conscious world. He distinctly remembered Mr K's words: "All you will remember of my world is that it was a dream, albeit for you, a very real one." It didn't seem to suggest that all three would have the same dream and be able to interact with each other about it. It just seemed so odd. As John approached the ward he saw Jennifer coming out of Alfie's room and quickly disappear through another door, so he didn't get the chance to catch her attention.

'I'll go and see Alfie now and meet up with Jennifer later,' he thought.

He received a nod of recognition from the receptionist nurse and made his way to Alfie. To see him sitting up in bed was a surprise given his last visit to the hospital when he was concerned that Alfie wasn't going to make it - he looked pale and thin. Even now, he was considerably thinner than the muscular, slightly older young man he last saw just before he left Jack Madden's house. Mrs Thoms was right, he needed feeding up.

Nurse Amy Brannigan was finishing her chores in the ward. 'Here's your Headmaster from school Alfie, that's nice of him to come and see you; I'll leave you, two boys, alone then. Just ring the bell on your bedside table if you need anything.'

John waited until Amy had left and went over to Alfie's bedside; he grasped his hand warmly. 'It's really great to see you awake and back with us Alfie, how are you feeling?'

'I'm ok John, I mean Headmaster. Sorry, I feel a bit weak and very hungry.'

John passed him the parcel from Mrs Thoms. 'It's from one of your fans, Mrs Thoms; she thinks an awful lot of you.'

Alfie busied himself opening the package while John explained a strategy he had been considering to avoid unnecessary questions or questions they might be asked that they couldn't answer.

'We should start on a formal footing Alfie until we can legitimately get on to first-name terms. If you start calling me by my first name too soon, the staff here are going to ask how you just happen to know it and also start them wondering about our relationship. Same thing applies to Jennifer also. You ok with that?'

Alfie was busily munching into Mrs Thoms' iced buns. He nodded his head and mumbled: 'Yeah, of course, Headmaster.'

It was just as well because Nurse Brannigan entered the room. 'What's this then Mr Southill? Alfie has been put on a special recovery diet; he shouldn't be eating stodgy cakes and the like, not yet anyway.' She removed the package of buns and the half-eaten one from Alfie's hand,

'I'll see whether Doctor Grant will allow you to have these back. In the meantime Mr Southill, I would appreciate it that you don't bring any more food parcels in for the patient. We're perfectly capable of seeing him fed and watered, thank you.'

The nurse left and the pair laughed, albeit in a slightly subdued manner.

'John, Mr K was here, right here with me and I was awake. He held my hand and we spoke for a little while. Only I could see him because Nurse Amy was in here and she obviously couldn't see or hear him. I don't think I'll be seeing him again, though, judging, by the way, he said goodbye and just faded away.'

'No, I don't think any of us will be seeing him again Alfie. I met up with him when I came through the gate and he said something to me that I still don't fully understand. I need to talk to Jennifer about it tonight.'

'He said something to me too that I didn't understand, but he had disappeared before I could get an answer from him.'

'What did he say?'

'Something about I would find what I was looking for here. Trust me, he said.'

'I would guess Alfie, that he's talking about you settling into a new life, in a new home, finishing your education and perhaps going on to university. Maybe he's saying that you will be happy doing all of those things, that it's just about being happy.'

'I just felt it was something more than that. I still don't know what I'm going to do. I'm still only fourteen; I don't want to go back to my old house, ever, although I would like to get some of my stuff. I don't know what's going to happen about the house or about me; where will I live; will I have to go into care?'

'In good time Alfie, in good time. All of these questions will be answered. The important thing now is that you get yourself fully fit and let others worry about what happens when you leave here. I'm going to see Jennifer now so I will see you tomorrow. Is there anything you would like me to bring in?'

'No thanks John, I mean Headmaster. Odd really, I feel I just need some sleep right now, I'm very tired.'

John feigned a worried look. 'Don't you go off anywhere you shouldn't because I would like to spend some time here if you don't mind.'

A broad smile spread across Alfie's face as he said goodbye and settled down into his bed. John waved his hand in a salute-type motion and left the ward.

The most pressing thing for John now was to contact Jennifer. He needed to see her face, look into her eyes. He approached the reception desk and asked: 'Can you page Doctor Paige for me please,' in an attempt at humour that seemed to escape the receptionist. 'I'll be in the visitors' waiting room.'

He decided that 'page Doctor Paige' had probably been done many times already and felt slightly foolish.

'Yes, of course, Mr Southill. I'll let her know you're here.'

John was browsing through the ubiquitous piles of Hello and Motoring Weekly magazines when the door opened and in walked Jennifer. Their eyes met and he saw that she was aglow; everything about her oozed warmth and radiance and he swept her up into his arms.

'Darling, it's so good to see you again. I've missed you so much.'

They kissed passionately and eventually Jennifer was able to speak.

'I've missed you too, so much, I really, really have, but what was all that about earlier on the phone? You had me very worried.'

John took Jennifer by the hand and led her to sit down.

He explained what Mr K had told him. How he had initially interpreted it; how it had worried him that he would come out of his dream and find that she would have no recollection of the events they experienced together.

'Jennifer, I was horrified by the thought that we never fell in love; that we never actually met. It was almost like a second heartbreak for me.'

Jennifer threw her arms around John's neck and kissed him gently on the cheek.

'I'm so glad that we did meet and fall in love and lay under our oak tree.'

She looked up at him with a mischievous smile. 'Make no mistake John, it did happen, I have no doubt about it at all.'

He smiled at her and realised that Jennifer was real; actually in his arms and that he really did love her and he didn't have to worry about waking up and finding she wasn't there. But there was still a massive unanswered question. How could it be? How could three people enter into the same dream, be part of that dream and be able to recollect each other's activities in the dream and out of it?

'I just don't see how it could possibly happen, Jenny, yet I know that it did.'

'Didn't you tell me that he tried to explain to you what is actually happening to us in our dreams by way of an analogy?'

'Yes he did and I guess that I more or less understood what he was getting at.'

'Well, think about it for a minute.'

Jennifer used her vast experience to try to interpret what The Keeper had told John. 'He said we are all given a role to play as part of a script; we play out that role in our dreams. The dreams are extensions or possibly different options to the world we currently occupy. Sometimes the dreams are weird and we can't understand them. That may be because the role we have has become entwined with another; a sort of overlap or blurring that confuses us. So we remember the dream as being weird or strange. At other times, our dreams are vivid and almost real. They appear to be real because the script is clear and we can, therefore, play out our role.'

'What I think has happened here is that we have been given a script and a role that are all part of the same play.Which is why we can interact with each other in our conscious state with the full knowledge of the part we played in our dreaming state. Sounds crazy I know but it's the best I can come up with.' What I am unsure of is why. Why would The Keeper give us this opportunity? An opportunity to see alternative existences. I'm sure that if it was a frequent phenomenon that I would have heard of it in one of the many medical journals I read.'

'Perhaps, Jenny, it was something to do with our individual circumstances that brought us together. We've all had losses and we were drawn together through Alfie, who also suffered a loss. Perhaps The Keeper saw an opportunity to put a few things right. I'm sure that he must do it all the time, but the difference is we've been given the privilege to witness it. I don't know why but I'm certain he doesn't make mistakes or do anything unintentionally.'

'That's a very good point and you could be right John, but I guess we'll never know. I'm just immensely grateful that it has turned out this way. And if it was a preordained drama, that we were, by design, given a role to play, then I'm glad.'

John noticed a note being pushed under the door. They exchanged puzzled glances and John picked the note up. He read it quickly and immediately opened the door to see who had delivered it. As he peered down the corridor, he saw the back of a white-haired gentleman wearing a flat cap and a white coat disappearing out of sight. He went back in, closed the door and read out the contents of the note to Jenny.

"You are not alone, there are others in your world that have had similar experiences. When choices need to be made we cannot assist, only guide. People like you are called upon to assist on our behalf. You have been chosen."

It was signed simply - K.

John and Jenny sat down and were stunned by this revelation and spent some time considering what it meant. John carefully folded the note and put it in his pocket.

'I don't think for one minute that anyone would believe us if we decided to tell this story, do you?'

'Not a chance; let's go and finish our champagne.'

Jenny linked John's arm and they walked out together.

Doctor Grant started Alfie on his recovery regime and was pleased with his progress. Jennifer had had several sessions with him and it didn't seem as though he was troubled by the events that sent him spiralling into a self-induced coma.

After several weeks of physiotherapy and a strict diet of mainly carbohydrates, Alfie was starting to look really well.

Detective Sergeant Adams swished his way into the ward one day and approached Peter Grant in his usual gruff manner. 'I'd like to talk to the boy, Doctor, is that ok?'

'Detective, the boy, has a name, it's Alfie Madden and I'm not sure it's a good time yet to bring up the events that brought him in here. Can it not wait a short while while we get him back to full fitness, both physically and emotionally?'

'Alright Doctor, perhaps you'll be good enough to let me know when it would be a good time for me to speak to Master Madden. We have some loose ends to tie up before I can close this case. Here's my card.'

He swished his way back out of the ward.

Peter didn't like DS Adams, probably because of his brusqueness, and thought he would do well to soften his tone a bit. He had no sooner got the detective out of his head when he was approached by a representative from social services, a heavy-set and heavily made-up middle-aged lady.

'Hello Doctor, my name is Mrs Simmonds from social services. I've been assigned to,' she looked down at her notepad, 'an Alfie Madden. I believe he is in your care at the moment.'

'Yes, Alfie Madden is in my care and what may I ask is your interest in him?'

'I am familiar with the events that led to his admission to hospital and as far as we know he has no family to take care of him once he is discharged. We will be taking him into care until he is old enough to fend for himself. So I would like to see him to inform him of what will be happening when he is well enough to leave hospital.'

'Will you now?' Peter was hostile. 'The boy has gone through a horrendous ordeal. The last thing I would expect him to want to deal with emotionally would be the establishment coming on to him like a bull in a china shop, telling him that they're now taking control of his life.'

'He doesn't have a choice Doctor, and neither do you. He's under age and has to be taken care of.'

Peter was furious, he did not like her snooty, officious attitude. 'I am his doctor and I will decide who sees him and when. Now, if you leave your card I will let you know when that might be.'

Mrs Simmonds was not happy. 'Of course Doctor, here's my card. I trust you will give us ample time to see him and make appropriate arrangements before you discharge him.'

'Yes, of course, but that will not be for some time yet, I can assure you. Now, will you allow me to get on with my work?'

Mrs Simmonds left the ward, sour faced and rather hurriedly.

Meanwhile, John and Jennifer's relationship had blossomed; they were ecstatic in each other's company and outside of their work they were constantly together. One evening, over dinner, they discussed moving into either John's or Jennifer's place as a couple; they were virtually living as a couple now anyway. They went through the pros and cons of each other's house. They concluded that Jennifer's was the best option for now; it had two bedrooms while John's had only one, although his living area was slightly larger. They agreed that John would sell his place and they would eventually look for something larger. Their evenings together were magical. They sat together wrapped in each other's arms listening to music and enjoying a glass of wine. They talked about their future and their recent adventures in Mr K's world and it naturally followed that Alfie's situation would come up.

'What do you think will happen to Alfie, Jenny? It won't be long now before he is fit to leave the hospital. He surely can't go back to that place in Rosamond Street. If he wants to go there to collect some of his belongings, I think I should go with him.'

'I agree, he shouldn't go there on his own. As to what will happen to him if he is discharged is simple. He will be taken into care by social services until he is of age to go off on his own. There's a chance he could get fostered in the meantime, but carers can be a bit reluctant with teenage boys.'

'That would be terrible. He's already gone through enough and something like that may be just enough to tip him over the edge. Can you get Peter to delay his discharge for as long as possible while we think this out?'

'I'll give it a try. I'll speak to him tomorrow.'

John took the glass out of Jennifer's hand, put it on the table, and put an arm under her legs then one around her waist and powerfully lifted her up to carry her to the bedroom. She put her arms around his neck and nibbled at his ear, then while kissing his neck, she unbuttoned his shirt. Their passion erased everything from their minds except their desire for each other. Tonight and this moment was all that mattered.

The next day at the hospital Jennifer made a point of seeing Peter Grant before she started her schedule to talk about her concerns about Alfie's discharge. She caught up with him at the coffee machine and joined him. 'Must have the obligatory shot of caffeine to start the day eh Peter?'

'Ah Jennifer, I'm glad you've come by today. I had a couple of visitors yesterday regarding Alfie and I have to say I wasn't overly happy about either of them.'

Jennifer listened to Peter describe his encounters with DS Adams and the snooty Mrs Simmonds from social services.

Jenny responded. 'First of all, I don't think it's a good idea for the police to be reminding Alfie of that terrible night just yet. He's really not had time to come to terms with it.' Jennifer knew, however, that Alfie had indeed addressed all of his issues and had come to terms with them. It was useful for her to use Alfie's relaxed demeanour in her strategy to delay his discharge. She could legitimately argue that he was yet to demonstrate his grief and he would need her support until then. 'As for social services,' she continued. 'We need, John and I that is, at some time to consider how we can help Alfie once he is discharged and we would appreciate you delaying his discharge for as long as possible; can you do that?'

'As for the police, I agree Jennifer entirely; I've already told DS Adams that it was too soon. He won't be back until I phone him. I have no idea what John and you are contemplating, but I will try and keep Alfie here for as long as possible. Just what is going on with you two, or is that too intrusive a question?'

'No it's no secret Peter, but we've decided to move in together and that may give us an opportunity to help Alfie if you follow me. We need some time to work it out.'

'I am so happy for you Jennifer. Since you and John got together, I've noticed a massive change in you; there's a sparkle in your eyes and a glow about you. I'm truly delighted for you both and, yes, I'll give you as much time as you need.

Jennifer kissed him gently on the cheek. 'Thank you, Peter, you're an angel.'

The days and weeks rolled by quickly. Mrs Thoms visited several times and always brought something she had baked for Alfie, much to the chagrin of Nurse Brannigan. Peggy Thoms spent as much time with him as she was allowed. She talked about all the people Alfie knew and what they were doing; how they all missed him and looked forward so much to seeing him again.

Alfie was gaining strength every day and Peggy noted that he was getting back to his normal self. There were constant interruptions from Mrs Simmonds, who was persistent in wanting to speak to Alfie. Peter Grant was getting to the stage where it was becoming difficult to find excuses for her not doing so. He decided he must speak to Jennifer and warn her that the time was approaching when he would have to consider Alfie's discharge, which would necessitate allowing social services access to him.

Nothing had been heard from DS Adams, thankfully, but Peter thought that, depending on Jennifer's assessment, he might have to call the detective soon.

He decided that he would speak to Jennifer and called into her office. He knocked and entered. 'Hi Jennifer, just need to run some ideas by you, ok?'

'Of course Peter, come in and take a seat.'

'I will need to discharge Alfie very soon now. There's very little excuse medically that I can use to allow him to stay on. Of course, I will need your medical opinion about his state of mind. But I can't imagine that, even in the event that he still has some issues, it would be sufficient to keep him here. He is certainly in good spirits and appears quite happy. When the decision is taken for him to go, the question will be to where? That brings the social services into the frame and they want to speak to him before he leaves. Also, the police still want to speak to him about the deaths of his parents.'

'Ok, Peter, I think you should call DS Adams and arrange for him to talk to Alfie, but I should be there with him when that happens. I would also want to speak to John this evening because I think we have a plan that will solve a lot of these issues. I'd appreciate it if you can hold out for a couple of days until John and I have everything we need to present to social services.'

'What are you two up to?' Peter was puzzled but could see the excitement in his colleague's eyes.

'We are going to apply to foster Alfie and later to adopt him. We have discussed it at length and we're both absolutely convinced it's the right thing to do.' Jennifer was beaming.

'I know you are both very happy, but this is a massive step, Jennifer. You're really sure about it?'

'Yes, absolutely, that boy needs a loving environment and we can give that to him and, before you think it, it's not about me replacing Jason. This is a different chapter in my life and it's equally important for John too.'

Peter was, of course, unaware of how the lives of John, Jennifer and Alfie had become so intertwined. Peter Grant was convinced her sincerity was undeniable.

'It's a wonderful thing you are both doing and I wish you the best of luck. You know I will be happy to support you as much as I can.'He got up, hugged Jennifer and left the office, leaving his friend with a broad smile on her face.
All our dreams can come true,

If we have the courage to pursue them.

Walt Disney

Chapter 20
The time was drawing near for Alfie to leave the hospital and although it had not yet been discussed with him, he was aware of the consequences of such an event. He never raised the subject with his doctor or the nursing staff in the forlorn hope that if he didn't bring it up then others wouldn't either. He was now fully fit and he knew that it wouldn't be too long before he would be told he had to leave. He also knew that he would probably be taken into care and he hated the idea. Each day was starting to become an ordeal; waiting for the words 'Alfie you can go home today.' 'Go home' he thought, 'where was home?' During this time of uncertainty he often thought that perhaps he took the wrong option. Maybe he should have stayed with The Keeper and taken his chances but he remembered Mr K's last words to him, 'you will find what you are looking for here, trust me.' He believed him and it gave him comfort. And he had John and Jennifer who had become great friends rather than Headmaster and Doctor but he still played out the charade of referring to them by their official titles.

To keep himself occupied he started to help around the ward, he would sit and talk with patients and get them drinks or find a book that they wanted to read from the hospital library. He had become an additional member of staff. Patients and staff appreciated his cheery nature, his willingness to help and for the patients he was a great listener. Sadly, when he returned to his bed especially as everyone settled down for the night, he would become dejected and pessimistic about his future. It was to his credit that he hid these feelings from everyone else 'they all have far more problems than I have,' he thought as he considered some of the patients with very serious illnesses. Each morning as he was awakened, invariably by Nurse Brannigan, he would put on a brave smile and prepare himself for another day waiting for the dreaded words, 'Alfie you can go home today.'

During the intervening weeks, John had moved in with Jennifer and they had prepared the apartment for what they hoped would be a third member of the 'family'. There was no difference in opinion between them about taking on the responsibility of Alfie; they were quite excited by the idea. They agreed that their first objective was to discuss it with him, as there was always a possibility that he would not wish to live with them. Assuming that he did like the idea of living with them, they then had to cross the hurdle of convincing the redoubtable Mrs Simmonds of Social Services that their plan was in Alfie's best interest. Then deal with the associated red tape that would ensue.

Peter Grant, in the meantime, had decided to phone DS Adams and following a gruff and rather an abrupt greeting from the policeman, Peter introduced himself. 'Hello Detective Sergeant, this is Doctor Grant from Collingham hospital, I'm calling to tell you that I will be discharging Alfie Madden in a few days time. So if you would like to speak to him you can do so. I would like to let him know when you're calling so that he is prepared for your questions.'

'That will not be necessary now Doctor, the powers that be do not think the boy could add anything to what we already know. I've looked again at the case notes and have to agree with the coroner that the causes of death are clear. The young man did nothing more than try to protect his mother before he was knocked unconscious. My boss and the CPS are satisfied that further discussion with Alfie would achieve nothing. So, thank you for calling to let me know and by the way, wish the young man well for me would you, tell him I think he's very brave. Goodbye.' Charlie put the phone down before Peter Grant could respond.

Peter looked blankly at the mouthpiece on the phone he was holding and spoke into it sarcastically, 'Goodbye to you too Detective Sergeant and thank you.'

He had no sooner put the phone down when he turned to face Mrs Simmonds, who was looking rather stony-faced. 'I must insist on seeing Master Madden immediately doctor. I do not believe there are any real medical reasons why you should deny me the right to do my job. If necessary, I shall apply to make him a ward of court and have him removed from your care to another hospital for a second opinion about his medical condition.'

'Mrs Simmonds slow down, please,' Peter was tired of all the hassle he was getting. 'I do not intend to delay your meeting with the patient any further. I am now satisfied that his emotional state is stable enough to take in what you will be discussing with him. However, I must insist that the hospital resident psychologist Doctor Paige is present during your first visit with him. It is essential that she is there to assess his reaction to what the implications are of what you will be telling him. Do you agree?'

Mrs Simmonds agreed and said 'So, can I go in and see him now?'

'I'm afraid not. Doctor Paige will not be available until tomorrow, but I will alert her that she will be required and will phone you to discuss a mutually acceptable time for you all to meet. Now, if you don't mind Mrs Simmonds I have other patients to attend to.'

The initial feeling of victory felt by Mrs Simmonds turned quickly to an embarrassing rebuff. The skin on her neck from under her chin down to the V of her cashmere jumper had flushed a bright red. Peter couldn't make out what the colour of the skin on her face was under her considerable pan stick makeup. She stomped off the ward clutching her folder of papers inwardly furious at what she thought was the Doctor's lack of respect for her position of authority.

Peter smiled as he watched her storm off the ward; he just loved winding her up.

John and Jennifer had agreed that it was crucial that they would fully discuss their proposal with Alfie before they made any approaches to social services. They needed to be sure that living with them was what he wanted and that he understood that the relationship between them would change slightly. They were well aware, for example, that they would have certain parental responsibilities and he would need to respect them. There would be house rules and a commitment to the 'family' as Jennifer liked to call it. Alfie needed to understand the uncertainty about Mrs Simmonds, who may lodge some objections, which may prevent Alfie from moving in with them.

They rehearsed what they needed to say to Alfie many times and set off to the hospital to see him.

Today, Alfie wasn't wandering around the wards being helpful; instead, he sat on his bed looking rather glum. He was acutely aware that any day soon he would be told that he was leaving the hospital. He would be taken into care into some godforsaken home for orphans in some godforsaken place miles away from here. Normally, he would be visiting other patients, laughing and joking with them and running small errands; today he just wasn't in the mood to behave any differently to the way he felt.

'Hello Alfie' Jennifer was the first to greet him as she entered the room; John was quick to follow with a cheery 'Hi young man.' His despondency momentarily left him but quickly returned when he deduced why they might both be here. They've come here together to soften me up before social services get here, I'll bet, he thought, which only served to intensify his gloom.

'What on earth is the sad face for?' Jennifer asked as she sat on the side of the bed.

'What is it,' John asked, 'are you getting a bit bored being in here? Well, if that's the case young man, I'm sure that when we tell you the news we have. It will cheer you up, we hope, ' John also said sensing Alfie's cheerlessness.

Alfie looked up with a deep sadness in his eyes, 'you don't have to pretend everything is ok because I know what you've come here to tell me. I know that I'm going to be discharged and I'm savvy enough to know that I've got nowhere to go so I'll have to be taken into care. I suppose you're here to tell me that, aren't you?'

John and Jennifer looked at each other and started to smile knowing that they would be able to dispel Alfie's fears, well almost, assuming they could get past social services.

Jennifer was quick to sympathise. 'We understand why you would would feel as you do and we haven't come to tell you about being discharged. John, perhaps you would explain to Alfie why we've come here.'

Alfie's demeanour immediately improved.

John went straight to the point, 'Alfie, Jennifer and I want to know if, provided we can arrange it whether you would like to come and live with us.'

Alfie's eyes lit up, his face a picture of astonishment.

'You really mean it; you want me to live with you? Really, really, you're serious; you're not joking are you?' Alfie's excitement was tinged with doubts. How could they possibly want me to live with them, why would they want me to? He thought.

'Alfie, we believe you're a good kid, you've had a rough life and we think you deserve better. We can give you that better life especially now that we have made a home together. Jennifer and I think this is also a chance for us to complete our happiness. We shall be very happy indeed if you would agree to be part of our family.'

Alfie leapt off the bed into Jennifer's and John's arms, almost knocking them over. 'Yes, you bet I would agree; I'm so happy, thank you; I promise I'll be no trouble.' He was bubbling over with excitement.

'Whoah, young fella,' John needed to temper Alfie's eagerness, 'there are some hurdles we need to cross before anything can happen. Social Services have already started to make moves to take you into care once you have been discharged; I think you already understood that would happen. We may have a bit of a battle with them. Then we need to agree a way forward once we have permission to take you into our care. It's not as straightforward as you might think Alfie.'

'No it certainly isn't folks' Peter Grant had overheard the latter part of John's conversation as he came into the room. 'The fearsome Mrs Simmonds is not a happy bunny; she is threatening to get Alfie made a ward of court and into the care of social services. I don't think I can stall her much longer. I have to allow her to speak to Alfie. Fortunately, I got her to agree to do that in your presence, Jennifer. I will have to call her soon and give her some appointment options.''

'Let's get it over with Peter; I think the sooner, the better. I'm available at anytime but I think we should meet her before she sees Alfie. I want her to have the opportunity to hear what we propose before she makes any decisions about taking Alfie into care. We have spoken to Alfie and he has said he wants to live with John and me so there shouldn't be any problem. It will just be a matter of paperwork, one hopes!

The look on Alfie's face became sombre as he absorbed what was said. The option to him going into care was once again a real possibility although there was at least a glimmer of hope.

I'll call Mrs Simmonds and arrange for her to come in tomorrow, is that ok with you both?' Peter Grant said, addressing John and Jennifer. 'As for you young man, are you comfortable that this Mrs Simmonds will at some point want to speak to you probably as soon as tomorrow when she has spoken to Doctor Paige and Mr Southill?'

Alfie sullenly mumbled 'I suppose so.'

The agreement was reached with Mrs Simmonds and she duly arrived the next day at 2 pm. She was ushered into a meeting room that had been set aside for Jennifer and John to present their proposal. They had spent the previous evening finalising what they would say and more particularly had prepared themselves for any awkward questions they may be asked.

As their visitor entered the room, John stood up and said 'hello Mrs Simmonds, nice to meet you.' He offered his hand, 'this is my partner Doctor Paige, my name is John Southill and I'm the Headmaster at Wensford Secondary school; please, sit down.'

Mrs Simmonds sat in a chair opposite John and Jennifer and waited for John to initiate the discussion.

John started, 'Mrs Simmonds, may I start by explaining why we have asked to meet you and our personal interest in Alfie. We have spent considerable time with him since he came into the hospital. As a pupil in my school, I had some contact with him there and Doctor Paige has been the clinical psychologist assigned to him. We are aware that Alfie has no relatives and that when he leaves hospital; he ostensibly has nowhere to go and no one to care for him. His parent's house was rented and is to be returned to the owner after the family's personal possessions have been released by the police...'

Mrs Simmonds interrupted impatiently, 'I am perfectly aware of Alfie's situation Mr Southill, it's my job; so can you please get to the point.'

Jennifer interjected with a hint of annoyance. 'We all have a job to do Mrs Simmonds and I'm sure you will agree that hastily taken decisions about Alfie's future will not be in his best interest. The reason we have asked to speak to you is that we wish to take him into our care. We have discussed it with him and he has made it abundantly clear that it is what he wants. He most certainly does not want to be put into a care home. Unless you have any specific objections. We would appreciate it that after you have spoken to Alfie and satisfied yourself that what I have told you is exactly as he wishes, that you facilitate the necessary approval and paperwork.' Jennifer was in a very uncompromising mood.

Her adversary was almost dumbstruck, she hadn't expected this. 'Doctor, it's not that simple; once the boy is discharged, he will have to go into care until alternative arrangements are made. As a priority, we would need to know more about the suitability of his proposed carers especially if they were not related; that can take months. As he will be a ward of court and officially in the care of the social services, another court hearing would be required for the court order to be changed. Again, this may take some time. And may I ask how long have you been living together as partners because this may have a bearing on the suitability question?'

John and Jennifer were not prepared for this line of questioning. John responded, 'when the appropriate application paperwork is provided we will divulge all information that the court requires. As to your implied doubts about the suitability, I'm sure there isn't a court in the land that would question our credentials. I'm the Headmaster of a Secondary Modern school of over 800 pupils. Also, my partner is a clinical psychologist with years of experience dealing with children. We are probably more qualified than anyone else in this regard.'

'That would be for the court to decide and as I say, that could take months.' Jennifer noticed a poorly disguised smirk on Mrs Simmonds face as she spoke. Jennifer couldn't hide her irritation.

'Mrs Simmonds you may think that this is some sort of power game, but let me make this perfectly clear to you. It is my professional opinion that if Alfie is taken into care away from the few people he trusts, even for a short time.There is grave danger of him slipping back into a coma, from which he may never recover.'

'Surely that is overstating things a bit, Doctor. The boy's coma was caused by his head injury in the fight with his stepfather and as far as I am aware he is fully recovered from that injury.' Mrs Simmonds still felt in control.

'I don't know who told you that, but I suspect it was the police. Allow me to give you the full and accurate facts of Alfie's so-called injury. His head injury was no more than a mild concussion and he soon recovered from that. His coma, however, was self-induced in order that he could escape the horror of what he saw that night, especially the violent death of his mother. We have spent months carefully bringing him back to this reality. There were times when we almost lost him in trying to do so, he was so determined that he did not want to be here. So, there is a distinct possibility that if he is faced with, what he may consider, another tragedy in his life, he may revert to his coma state. That is my professional opinion Mrs Simmonds and if you wish to take responsibility for what may happen then so be it. We will fight you in the court to have your care order rescinded, but I'm afraid that might be too late. And we will hold you accountable.'

Mrs Simmonds did not say anything immediately and was assessing the scenario that confronted her.

Jennifer on the other hand was patient and knew exactly what was going on in the bureaucrat's mind.

After what seemed like an age, Mrs Simmonds sprang into life, 'I will consider what you have told me Doctor and will defer my decision about Alfie for the moment. I hope to be able to come to you in a couple of day's time with a proposal. I hope you can persuade Doctor Grant to keep the patient here until we have a plan that is in the best interest of the boy.'

'Of course, Mrs Simmonds, I'm sure Doctor Grant will take my advice and we look forward to hearing from you in a couple of days.'

Mrs Simmonds got up and made her exit. 'Goodbye Doctor, Mr Southill, I'll be in touch.' She left the hospital with an air of superiority but inwardly she knew she had lost the battle and would not take any risks by going against a doctor's opinion. Her boss would have even less of an appetite for an open fight with a professional especially since the care home abuse scandal they were only just getting over. Mrs Simmonds now needed to find a way of allowing the couple to formally apply for care of Alfie. But at the same time make it appear that it was her decision and not something that was forced upon her.

Two days duly passed and a meeting was arranged between John, Jennifer and Mrs Simmonds. Doctor Grant had extended Alfie's stay but had to manufacture an excuse about his slower than expected rehabilitation; hospital management were fussing over bed occupancy. Peter felt his life was plagued by bureaucrats like Mrs Simmonds and the hospital management.

'I have decided after considerable thought to allow your application to take Alfie under your care,' Mrs Simmonds said.

Jennifer and John were overjoyed but restrained themselves as much as they could.

The social worker continued 'there are some conditions that must be adhered to if this to become a more permanent arrangement. Your initial care permission is to be for 3 months or until a satisfactory suitability assessment has been carried out.' John's hackles went up.

'The temporary order and assessment is standard practice Mr Southill so please don't get too sensitive about it. In the event that everything is satisfactory and Alfie remains agreeable then a more permanent care order can be put in place. I will need to speak to Alfie now to ensure that he is agreeable to going into your care and that he understands the arrangement. As previously agreed with Doctor Grant, I believe you were to accompany me Doctor Paige. As I am not going to tell Alfie that he will be going into a care home I'm sure that it will be unnecessary. In fact, as I will want to assess his response to him being told that he is going into your care. I think it would be best if you are not there so that there can be no question of him being unduly influenced.'

John and Jennifer waited patiently for Mrs Simmonds to return which seemed like an eternity.

She approached the meeting room where the couple sat waiting; the door had been left open so that they could see her leave Alfie's ward.

'I'm satisfied that Alfie is happy to go into your care and that he understands that it is a temporary measure while an assessment takes place. I will draw up the appropriate documents and will discuss them with you both after Alfie has moved in with you.' Mrs Simmonds was much more amenable and was pleased that she had achieved her aim of maintaining control or at least giving the appearance of being in control. She shook hands with Jennifer and John and bade them farewell.

As soon as she was gone the pair rushed into Alfie's ward. He sat on his bed with a grin from ear to ear. When he saw them he leapt from the bed and threw his arms around them, they responded in a sort of group hug and danced with joy.

They all agreed now was the time that Peter Grant could initiate Alfie's discharge. Fortunately, the doctor was just entering the ward when they were discussing that event. 'What's this then Alfie, conspiring to leave us are you; I may just make up an excuse to keep you here a bit longer.' He said jokingly.

Jennifer said, 'we shall have to get some clothes for Alfie so I might need another day for me to do some shopping, is that ok Peter?'

'Yes, of course, I have to draw up the necessary paperwork and I'm sure Nurse Brannigan will want to say goodbye; she's not here until tomorrow.'

John said, 'I have to speak to social services because I believe they will have been given the keys to Alfie's house before it is returned to the owner. Alfie and I will go there to collect whatever belongings he wants to bring to his new home.' John was now sombre, 'Alfie, are you sure you want to do this, if you give me a list I can get whatever you need, that will save you having to go there?'

'Yes I'm sure, Headmaster; I'll be alright if you're with me.'

Peter Grant was delighted that he had brought Alfie through his ordeal even though he had been pushed pretty hard by Jennifer. But he was discharging the young man on a happier note than when he first admitted him, and for that, he gave himself some credit. 'Well then, I am so pleased for this new family I see in front of me. I do wish you all the happiness in the world so I'll leave you now to get your arrangements in order and I'll go and do what I have to do.'

The next day was the day of Alfie's discharge from the hospital. Jennifer had bought him a smart outfit including the most up to date trainers with which Alfie was extremely pleased. There were lots of happy faces, but some tinged with sadness, especially Amy Brannigan. She had watched Alfie come into the ward a battered and emotionally torn young man. She had watched the struggles of the doctors battling with decisions about his life and she had observed Alfie himself fight the demons within him. Now she saw a bright, healthy and a more mature young man getting ready to start a new life. She was very happy to see that he was now fit, well, and would miss him greatly.

Alfie walked straight over to Nurse Brannigan and kissed her gently on the cheek, 'Thank you, Nurse Amy, for looking after me, I know how much work I caused you. I'm really glad it was you who looked after me.'

Amy's eyes filled, but she retained her model nurse behaviour, 'that's alright Alfie; you were a model patient... most of the time!' She smiled warmly at him.

After saying farewell to all of the nursing staff, Alfie then went directly to Doctor Grant who had stood aside while the farewells were being said. Peter Grant held out his hand to shake Alfie's but Alfie ignored it and threw both arms around the doctor's neck. 'Thank you, doctor, if it weren't for you, I would be in a different place today.' Peter Grant was obviously unaware of what Alfie really meant but was pleased by the unusual show of affection by a discharged patient.

'It was my pleasure Alfie and I'm so glad that you now have a new life to look forward to. He finally managed to grasp Alfie's hand and affectionately said 'good luck young man.'

Alfie walked out of the hospital flanked by John and Jennifer, his new parents, looking back only once to see the people who had cared for him waving him goodbye.
Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle

and the life of the candle will not be shortened.

Happiness never decreases by being shared.

Buddha

Chapter 21
On their first night together, the three of them sat down to a dinner cooked by Jennifer. It was considered a special occasion because it was Alfie's first family meal for as long as he could remember. She decided it should be something simple, nothing too elaborate. They had no idea what Alfie's tastes were and didn't want to overwhelm him with something fancy. So, she plumbed for a juicy roast chicken with sage and onion stuffing, roast potatoes and a selection of vegetables. Jennifer couldn't resist at least one special item to finish, a home-made strawberry meringue with lashings of fresh cream.

They didn't talk very much during the meal because Alfie was so focused on what he was eating; it was as if he hadn't eaten in weeks but was clearly enjoying every mouthful. Neither Jennifer nor John wanted to interrupt his enjoyment. As the last forkful entered Alfie's mouth, he slowly replaced his utensils and leaned back in his chair.

'That was fantastic... what am I to call you both?'

It was a question they had thought about as soon as it was decided they were to be his carers. Now Alfie had brought the subject up it needed to be discussed.

John had already worked out the way they should play it, for the moment anyway.

'I think, Alfie, that in our company here at home, which is your home too, we should be on first name terms. Let's face it, you're almost an adult and that's what adults do. But there are going to be exceptions. For example, it would be inappropriate for you to address me as John in school. It would also be unacceptable to call Jennifer by her first name in her workplace if ever you went there to visit her. In my case I think it's simple, Mr Southill or Headmaster, that would be the same as all the other students. '

'Simple,' said Alfie, 'If I'm at the hospital I'll just call Jennifer Doctor. Is that ok Jennifer?'

'That's perfectly fine with me Alfie. I hope, though, that you're not going to feel uncomfortable with that sort of formality.' Neither John nor Jennifer wanted to raise the question of him calling them Mum and Dad; that was some way off and would be insensitive at this stage they thought. Jennifer was convinced it would happen when Alfie is ready.

'We also need to discuss your schooling Alfie,' John continued. 'Initially, you will have to go to Wensford but if you are unhappy with that, then I can arrange for a change of school for you. There may be some pressure put on you from your peers once they find out what your relationship is with the Headmaster.'

'I'm really not bothered about that John. I liked Wensford and I would like to go back there. My first worry is not school but going back to my house for my things. I don't really want to go there, but I have to. At least I know it will be for the last time.'

'I've already said Alfie, I will be happy to go for you but I know that you want to do it for your own reasons, so I won't try and dissuade you. I'll be with you every step of the way and if it gets too tough then we head for the door and to hell with the things you leave there, they can be replaced. Is that a deal?'

'That's a deal, Headmaster.'

Alfie couldn't hide how happy he was and decided he should go to bed because he was feeling tired. It had been a long and very exciting day.

When they first arrived at the apartment, Jennifer had taken Alfie to show him his bedroom. He was gobsmacked by the way they had furnished and decorated the room. It was bright, airy and comfortable with pastel colours and light-coloured furniture. His new foster parents, or carers, he really didn't know what to call them yet, had spent a lot of effort in preparing the room for him.

'You can change the decoration to whatever you want Alfie, we've left it deliberately neutral,' she had told him.

It gave him a warm glow inside. This was an emotion he can't ever remember feeling in his young life. 'If you don't mind then I'll say goodnight. Thank you both for everything you've done. I don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you.'

'We're not looking for any payback Alfie; if you're happy, then we will be happy too. That will be payback enough,' Jennifer said, already overjoyed by the way things had worked out.

Alfie leaned over and gently kissed her on the cheek. 'Goodnight Jennifer.'

She said: 'You've set a precedent now Alfie, I'll expect a goodnight kiss every night from now on.'

He smiled and blushed slightly then walked over to John holding his hand out to shake his hand.

John stood up and put both arms around him in a bear hug. 'The men in this house don't shake hands, we hug each other, ok?' It was a hug of genuine sentiment and feeling. 'Goodnight Alfie, see you in the morning,' he said, with a very affectionate smile.

'Goodnight John and thank you.'

As he sat on the edge of the bed, Alfie allowed tears to run down his cheeks. He didn't know whether they were tears of joy or relief or just a release from all the tension he had experienced in recent days. He now believed he should never have doubted whether he had made the right choice; he was absolutely right to come back. As he lay back on the bed and looked up at the clear sky outside the window, he whispered a thank you to The Keeper.

After breakfast the next morning, John had rang the school and informed his secretary that he would not be coming in until the afternoon. He left instructions that he wanted to speak to Michael, his deputy, before assembly tomorrow.

He then had to address the task of accompanying Alfie to 43 Rosamond Street. He needed to get it over with quickly, he thought.

They drove to Alfie's house in silence. The journey wasn't long but because of its significance it appeared to be more arduous than John would have expected. They pulled up outside number 43. John watched Alfie stiffen. 'You sure you're up for this young fella? It's not too late to head back.'

'No, I'll be ok, let's just get it done quickly please.' Alfie looked pale as he got out of the car and walked gingerly up the path. The garden was as unkempt as he had remembered but, of course, there would be no-one here to do anything with it. The curtains were still there, a dirty grey and badly hung. The whole atmosphere surrounding the house was unpleasant.

John had collected a key from social services and opened the front door.

Alfie hesitated.

John said: 'Shall I go in first?'

Alfie whispered: 'Yes please John.'

John walked into the hallway followed closely by Alfie. It was cold and smelt damp. There was something else in the air that John could smell and it wasn't dampness. Maybe it was his imagination and the fact that knew what had gone on here but he smelt malevolence. Whether that was something that could be smelt was another matter. But whatever it was it certainly wasn't damp, he thought.

Alfie started to make his way to the kitchen as if something was pulling him there to see it again.

John grabbed his arm. 'You don't need to go in there Alfie, there's nothing for you to see, just bad memories. Let's go upstairs and collect what you want and get out of here.'

'John, I need to go in there just one more time. Will you please come with me?'

'Yes, of course, Alfie, but let's not dwell too long, eh.'

Alfie edged the kitchen door open and slowly stepped inside. John stayed close to him.

The kitchen table was still pushed to one side, away from its normal position, but thankfully the blood had been cleaned off the walls and floor.

Alfie stood there transfixed. The memory came flooding back to him in a vivid picture. He started to panic as he saw his mother being pounded against the wall and Jack with a knife protruding from his gut. He winced and turned his head away as if to avoid seeing the nightmare again. He wanted to be sick.

John took hold of him and virtually carried him out of the kitchen. He held Alfie tightly in his arms as the boy sobbed uncontrollably. He held him close for some time, comforting him, stroking his hair and using his powerful arms to reassure Alfie in his distress. 'Come on Alfie, I'm taking you home. You don't need anything from here. You've been through enough, let's go.'

Alfie had started to calm down a little. 'But John, I need my clothes, school uniform, all the stuff I need for school. It's all in my bedroom.'

John put the car keys in Alfie's hand. 'You go and sit in the car and wait for me. I will go upstairs and pack a bag of everything I see that you will need. Ok?' Within 10 minutes John had returned to the car with a small suitcase, which he threw into the boot.

'That's it, Alfie. If there's anything else you want, we're not coming back here for it. We'll buy whatever you require elsewhere.'

'I'm sorry for losing it back there John. Thanks for helping me.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for Alfie, no-one deserves to go through what you have and I'm very proud of the way you have handled yourself. I don't know of anyone who would have coped as well as you have. Come on, let's go home.'

John drove away from 43 Rosamond Street and Alfie never looked back.

John dropped Alfie off at the apartment and went straight to school. He walked into his office, said hello to Mrs Weston, and asked if she had arranged for his deputy to come and see him.

'He'll be here at two o'clock Headmaster.'

'Thank you, Maureen. Send him straight in when he arrives.'

There was a light tap on the Headmaster's door and Michael Cochran entered. 'You asked to see me, John?'

'Yes Michael, please sit down. I know you are aware that Alfie Madden is now in the care of Jennifer and me. I have been a bit worried that he may be subjected to some grief from his fellow students when they find out that he's a member of the Headmaster's family. What's your take on it? How do you think I should handle it?'

It pleased Michael that he was being asked advice for what was ostensibly a personal issue. 'John, you have no need to be concerned. The pupils here think Alfie is a hero. Since they have been doing their voluntary work for the people of Alderman Avenue they realise just how much effort he put in for them and how much admiration he has gained for the school. No-one would hear a bad word about him. In fact, a suggestion has been put to me by a delegation of his peers.'

Michael explained what the suggestion was and John was overjoyed by it.

'I think it's a wonderful idea. I'll see you tomorrow then at assembly. Alfie will be with me.'

Over dinner that evening John asked: 'How are you feeling about going to school tomorrow Alfie?'

'I'm a little bit scared to tell you the truth, but I suppose I will be ok after a day or two. Would it be possible for me to go and see Mrs Thoms tomorrow evening after school?'

'That's a good idea, Alfie,' Jennifer said. 'Perhaps we could go with you, I'd like to meet her.'

'Yes that would be great and I'm sure Mrs Thoms would love to meet you too.'

Alfie had not contemplated the idea of introducing his foster parents. The idea excited him.

'That's settled then,' John said. 'After school tomorrow I'll go with Alfie and we'll meet you at Mrs Thoms' house about 4.30, Jenny. I'll get Mrs Weston to phone her and check that it will be ok for us all to descend on her.' John spent a little more time getting himself ready this morning. It was going to be a special day and one that he would be proud to remember. He put on one of his better suits and a newly acquired crisp white shirt. He always was well turned out but today there was a spark in his eyes and a spring in his step; his clothes matched his demeanour. He had earlier confided in Jennifer what the plan was at the school and asked if she would like to come to the school with him. 'After assembly you will be able to get back to work, so you shouldn't miss too much.'

'Just you try and keep me away,' she said, 'I wouldn't miss it for anything.'

'Ok, but you will have to travel separately and try to park your car out of sight so that Alfie doesn't see you.'

Alfie came into the room dressed in his school uniform - smart blue blazer and grey slacks with a white shirt set off by the maroon school tie. He was tense and apprehensive about his first day back. John took his arm and made him stand alongside him. He was ramrod straight and Alfie tried to emulate him. He and John stood together waiting for an appraisal from Jennifer. She looked them up and down like an officer inspecting the troops.

'I think you're both very smart, a credit to the school, and I'm very proud of you both. Now off you both go and make sure you both put a good day's work in,'she said as she looked at them with an impish grin.

John and Alfie said goodbye to Jennifer and made their way to Wensford Secondary. John was deliberately running a bit late because he needed time for Michael to get everything prepared. He parked his car up in the Headmaster's car park bay and Alfie got out.

'Goodbye John, sorry, Headmaster, I'll see you later.'

'Just a minute Alfie, I'd like you to come and be introduced to Mrs Weston, whom you haven't met yet. It won't take long and you won't be late for assembly, I promise.' They walked into John's office; Alfie was still very nervous. Mrs Weston sat at her desk and looked up as they entered. 'This is Master Alfie Madden, Mrs Weston, and he's returning to school today after a long absence.'

Alfie shook her hand and said: 'It's very nice to meet you, Mrs Weston.'

'And nice to meet you too Alfie,' she replied.

Alfie looked at John expectantly, as if to say: 'Is that it? Can I go now?'

John said: 'Come along Alfie, I'll walk with you to assembly.'

Instead of walking to assembly by way of the student corridor, as the pupils would do. John took Alfie through the tutors' room and into the assembly room from the side, the way the tutors would enter.

Alfie suddenly realised he was actually about to enter the assembly hall via the tutor entrance and onto the stage.

John sensed his reluctance.

'It's alright Alfie, come with me.'

John guided him onto the stage.

As Alfie stepped out, he saw, to his horror, the whole school in front of him. Michael started to applaud and as he did so the pupils slowly started to rise from their seats and applaud with him. It got louder and louder with whistles and cheers.

Alfie looked at John with a questioning look on his face and the applause went on. Then he saw at the back of the hall Jennifer applauding and cheering along with the students. He was totally overwhelmed. Alfie just could not understand what was going on.

Michael Cochran waved his hands to quieten things down and gradually the students sat down and became hushed.

'I know this will be an extremely embarrassing moment for Alfie because he has never had the recognition he deserved, nor ever asked for, before. As his colleagues, we know what he has done for others, despite his own personal difficulties, without ever complaining or asking for anything in return. Most of you have worked on the Alderman Avenue volunteer project and have seen just how much Alfie achieved. As a result of that hard work the project is to be expanded to other schools and colleges and will be supported by many local organisations.'

There was a loud cheer.

Michael held his hand up and continued looking directly at the young man who stood petrified on the stage.

'Alfie Madden, you have been a shining example to everyone in this school. We felt, not just your fellow students but tutors also, that you have deserved this accolade from them and a thank you from us all. You have fostered pride in this school and as a result of your work and attitude we are held in the highest esteem in the community and we thank you.'

Alfie saw Jennifer at the back of the hall wipe away tears as the students once again rose from their seats and applauded. Alfie didn't say anything, he couldn't. He walked over to the deputy head, thanked him, and then to the Headmaster.

'Thank you, sir I really don't...'

John held up his finger to his mouth and smiled.

Alfie turned to the standing mass of his colleagues and waved. They cheered. It was getting too much for Alfie so he quickly left the stage.

John said: 'Come to my office Alfie until you have had time to calm down. I know that must have been harrowing for you. We are all very proud of you.'

'If you don't mind, Headmaster, I want to get into school, do some serious school work and get some sort of normality back into my life.'

'I understand. Off you go young Madden, I'll see you later.'

It was obviously a very strange and stressful day for Alfie and he tried very hard to concentrate but with not much luck. This once quiet, unassuming boy who preferred to be on his own suddenly was inundated with other students who genuinely wanted to be near him and talk to him.

'Was this what The Keeper meant when he said I would find what I was looking for here?' Alfie wondered. He somehow, didn't think so.

As the day drew to a close, he was glad that things should start to quieten down now. He ambled off into the Headmaster's office where he had agreed to meet John before they went off to see Mrs Thoms. Maureen Weston had earlier confirmed that she was available for them to visit.

John spent some time clearing away the papers he had been working on and had a phone conversation with Michael.

'Thank you for what you did this morning Michael, it would not have been right for me to give that speech. I couldn't have added anything to it; I agreed with every word. Thanks once again.'

The intercom clicked on.

'Master Madden is here Headmaster, shall I send him in?'

'That won't be necessary Maureen; I'm ready to leave now.' John left his office and joined up with Alfie. 'Goodnight Maureen I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Goodnight Headmaster, goodnight Alfie.'

John and Alfie left and drove the short distance to Mrs Thoms' house.

As usual, Peggy watched for John to arrive. She was particularly excited today because Alfie would be with him and she was to meet John's partner, Jennifer.

Jennifer had already arrived and waited in her car for John and Alfie to appear. They got out of the cars together and Jennifer greeted Alfie with a big smile. 'I am so proud of you Alfie, to have so many of your school friends cheering for you, it was such a proud moment.'

Alfie was still shaken by the magnitude of what had happened, especially after he found out that it was his fellow students who instigated it without any influence from the tutors. 'I'm still stunned Jennifer, I really don't know what to say.'

John said: Let's go in. Mrs Thoms will be waiting at the door.'

As predicted, Peggy opened the door before John could get a chance to knock. 'Come in please; come in, so nice to see you all.' She led them into the lounge. 'Please sit down.'

John introduced Jennifer. 'It's lovely to meet you Mrs Thoms; I've heard so much about you.'

'Why don't you call me Peggy, please?'

'Ok, Peggy.'

'My niece is here and she is making us some tea and I'm sure she'll find us a nice bit of cake. I haven't seen her for a long time. It's my sister's girl and they live an awfully long way away. It's so lovely to have her come here to visit.'

A young girl, about Alfie's age, came into the room.

Peggy Thoms announced: 'Ah Maisie, come and meet my friends.'

Alfie's jaw dropped open, as did John's and Jennifer's.

The girl had shiny auburn hair, hazel eyes and a small mole on her left cheek; she was the image of the Maisie he knew in the other Wensford.

Maisie put the tray on the table and said to Alfie: 'Whatever is the matter, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you ok?'

Alfie shook his head to clear it.

'I'm very sorry, it's just that you remind me very much of someone I used to know.'

Maisie smiled at him that same smile that he saw when he and the other Maisie were together.

John and Jennifer had now recovered and were in deep conversation with Peggy. She was so excited when she was told about events of the morning in Alfie's school.

After tea and Peggy's delicious cake, Peggy suggested that Alfie should take Maisie to see the Pattersons and Frank Stolman. 'And you might like to look at what your fellow students have done here while you were away. Go on, off you go, you don't want to be in here listening to my old gossip.'

Alfie got up and sort of nodded to Maisie in a gesture of: 'Shall we?'

She got her coat. 'Yes, why not,' she said.

Peggy Thoms got up and with her arms folded over her ample bosom she looked out of the window at the two youngsters walking down the path. 'They make a lovely couple don't they?'

John and Jennifer agreed.

They were still stunned by the likeness of Maisie to the other Maisie. Was this an amazing coincidence or simply part of the grand design?

Peggy picked the single red rose that stood in a vase on the window and held it close to her. She then turned to them and said, 'I always knew Alfie would find what he was looking for here.' She smiled and gave a knowing wink.

If a man could pass through Paradise in a dream, and have a flower presented to him as a pledge that his soul had really been there, and if he found that flower in his hand when he awoke – Aye, what then?

Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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