The Fetch by Robert Holdstock Read Free Book Online

wide over her son’s face, but frozen, immobile as life was pumped slowly back into the corpse.
    Michael suddenly shuddered and gulped breath, then screwed up his eyes, flexed his arms and began to wail.
    ‘Oh thank God. Thank God.’
    ‘Get the doctor. Quickly … get him out here … quickly …
    ‘You do it. Give me Michael.’
    She snatched at the boy, clutched at him, weeping helplessly as she subsided back on to the slurry. The double bed, which had been hanging precariously from the ruins of the ceiling, slowly slid through the gap. Richard caught its edge as it fell, and steered it away from danger.
    He felt oddly calm, serene, his head clear, his vision sharp. He stopped and surveyed the scene in the room. Half the ceiling was down, plaster dust still swirling from the ragged edges. Worms flexed and struggled in the mud. Several sharp, bright shapes glistened. The stench of wet soil and fresh blood – had he cut himself? – was almost overpowering.
    When he reached the phone he couldn’t use it.
    What was he going to say? How would he explain what had happened? The last thing he wanted, now, was for anyone to see this mess.And if they took Michael to hospital and were asked how he came to have dirt in his stomach …
    Suddenly dizzy with confusion he replaced the receiver and stepped back into the mud-strewn living room. Susan, cradling Michael, had calmed him. She sat on the mound, her feet buried in earth up to the ankles. She was rocking slightly.
    ‘Is he all right?’
    She sang and nodded.
    ‘I’ll bring the doctor out if you think … if you think it’s necessary … ?’
    She watched him for a long time, rocking and singing. He felt cold and sick. Finally she shook her head.
    ‘He’ll ask some awkward questions. I don’t know what to do …’
    Again, she nodded, smoothing Michael’s hair, holding him tightly to her.
    She went on singing.

SIX
    Richard returnedto the phone and called Jenny. She was incoherent with tiredness when she answered, but rapidly woke up when she heard the tone in Richard’s voice.
    All he had said was, ‘We’ve got a real problem. Could you come and fetch Susan and Michael? I’ll have a suitcase of clothes ready to take.’
    ‘Yes, of course … it’ll take me half an hour …’
    ‘Thanks.’
    Then he helped Susan out of the mud and up to the bathroom. He felt oddly calm, almost unreal. It was a form of shock, he knew, but he welcomed the fact that he felt no sense of panic. That would come later, he imagined. He had also expected Susan to want to leave the house immediately, but she too was in a strange, dulled state, and all she wanted was a bath.
    Even a bath in
this
house.
    She was mostly silent as they went upstairs. She undressed Michael, then herself, as Richard drew the water and tested it for temperature. She settled into the shallow bath and closed her eyes for a moment. She still held Michael, and together they cleaned the infant. The child was surprisingly quiet, apparently undisturbed by his near-fatal experience. When the mud was washed away, Richard ran a second bath to rinse them, then left Susan alone as he packed her clothes for her, and the bottles and sterilizing equipment, ready for Jenny’s arrival.
    He was trying to keep a clear head,trying not to let the pure alienness of this event start to panic him. He had an idea that he would stay in the house and clear away the mess, shifting the massive earthfall into the garden, maybe even as far as the quarry. Get the house clean. Get the
ghost
out of the place.
    What had done this? What power could have done this?
    ‘Keep calm!’ he whispered to himself as he prowled the rooms downstairs, waiting for Jenny. ‘Keep a firm grip …’
    Jenny was wearing jeans and a heavy jumper, and without the touch of make-up that she normally used her eyes looked pale and tired. Her hair was tousled, her breath sweet with peppermint, and she shuddered uncontrollably as she stood in the doorway of the sitting