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Authors: David Moody

BOOK: Trust
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        I decided to go for a walk. I started off wandering through the centre of the village but quickly got fed-up. The population was still artificially swollen by holidaymakers and alien-spotters alike. It was time to take myself away from it all for a while. If no-one wanted to be with me then I didn’t want to be with anyone. It was time to be as antisocial as I was beginning to feel.

        I walked away from Thatcham and soon found myself wandering along the rough coastal path that I often followed when I ran. I had allowed my training to slip recently and it had been almost two weeks since I’d been out running. I could have run tonight, I thought guiltily. Never mind. I would get up early tomorrow and run first thing. Well, that was the plan…

        The sky above me was clear save for a few light speckles and bands of clouds on the edge of the horizon. The huge orange sun was just completing its steady daily descent from high, casting long, dragging shadows all around. I stopped walking and looked directly up and then down and out to sea, following in my mind the path that the alien ship had taken when I had watched it first arrive.

        I silently walked on.

        Along with the rest of the world I had now had over a month to get used to the idea of our playing host to visitors from another planet. Just about everyone else had, however, seemed to have taken to the role much better than I had. Everyone else had been caught up on an all consuming tidal wave of euphoria and excitement. So why did I feel like the only one still sitting on the beach paddling up to my ankles? Although all of the initial strangeness and uncertainty I had first associated with the presence of the aliens had quickly disappeared, I still felt distant and unconvinced. While the rest of the world welcomed the visitors into their homes with open arms, mine were still firmly crossed in front of me.

        I stopped walking again. I sat down on the grassy hillside and stared out over the gently rippling ocean.

        Perhaps I was being too hard on them? After all, it wasn’t their fault they were stuck here, was it? They hadn’t (as far as I was aware) done anything wrong. I remembered the alien I had spoken to in Dreighton earlier in the day. She had seemed genuinely sad and remorseful when she’d walked away from me.

        Who knows what she might have left behind to travel and work in space? I didn’t know anything about their emotions, relationships, feelings and society and yet it had been clear to me from her words and her manner that the creature in the city needed her home and familiarity as much as I did. And I had to stop calling them creatures. Bloody hell, even the dumbest alien was probably a thousand times more intelligent than any human genius - how insulting and derogatory of me to use a word which made them sound base and uneducated.

        But it still didn’t feel right.

        I had to go with my gut reaction, and that gut reaction was saying wait - bide your time - don’t jump in with both feet.

        I’m a strong believer in gut reaction, and have been ever since I met Siobhan. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like without her. She was the one who pulled me out of the mire when we lost Mum and Dad. If it hadn’t been for her strength, love and determination I would have crumbled - no question.

        I met her at a party that I hadn’t wanted to go to. It was at a friend of a friend’s house (who I couldn’t stand) and I had decided not to go. It was only the promise of a free drink and quick exit after a few minutes that persuaded me to change my mind. And thank God I did. I remember very little about that night - just walking into the living room and meeting Siobhan.

        As soon as I walked into the room I focussed on her and didn’t take my eyes off her all night. I can’t remember what we did or said in the first few hours we were together, I just knew that it was right. The music, lights, drink, dancing and other distractions had faded into insignificance next to her. The fact that she had arrived at the party with another man meant nothing.

        I knew from the first second I saw her that we were going to be together. Gut reaction told me that we would.

        One day soon I would finally pluck up the courage to ask her to marry me.

        So what was my instinct saying to me tonight? I lay back on the grass and looked up into the light blue sky which was beginning to darken as night rapidly approached. I could see a thin crescent moon - almost translucent against the heavens and I stared at it for a while and tried to comprehend its incredible distance from me. The furthest distance I had ever run was thirteen miles. Hard to believe that the moon was over seven million times further away than that. At that moment in time I could completely understand why the alien in the village had seemed so low and disheartened. Even with the most advanced form of transport ever seen, they were still an inconceivable distance from everything that mattered to them.

        I stood up and stretched. The wind had picked up and a few small waves had appeared on the otherwise still surface of the sea. I watched as small white splashes of foam were kicked up around the base of the Devil’s Peak. Since I had arrived in Thatcham I had wanted to hire or even buy a little boat so that I could sail out there and wallow in the peace and isolation that I was sure I would find on the small rocky island. Joe Porter once told me that there was a small cove on the side of the island facing away from the mainland. He told me that he’d sailed out there with more than one girlfriend and shared many illicit moonlight rendezvous during his long and colourful past. The notion of being out there alone (or almost alone) was strangely romantic and appealing. Imagine being the only living creature for miles around…

        The green and comfortable world around me suddenly seemed a much smaller place now that the aliens had arrived.

        They had shown us that the barriers keeping us confined to our world could be broken. But at the same time their arrival had made me think of myself from a new perspective. Although I remained at the centre of my own little world, I knew that I was a completely insignificant cog in an unimaginably huge and complex machine.

       

       

15

       

        Twenty to eight. Monday evening.

        I stood next to the wide bay window in my living room and looked down onto the village below. Even though it was late and the light was fading the streets were still alive with bustling activity. By this time of year Thatcham was usually silent. I noticed that the leaves on many of the trees I could see from my house had begun to show their first signs of curling and turning from green to golden-brown. The arrival of Autumn was imminent. All of the greenness I could see would be replaced by yellows, oranges and golds during the next few weeks.

        I turned around as Siobhan entered the room. Inside the house was dull and full of evening shadows and at first I could only see her silhouette. As she walked towards me the fading light coming in through the window revealed her in all her beauty.

        She wore tight black jeans and a loose white top which hung open casually. She knew I was staring at her and she was enjoying the attention. She was flirting with me. `Okay?’ she asked.

        I nodded and wrapped my arms around her. For a few long seconds I stared deep into her eyes before kissing her. `I’m fine,’ I whispered, nestling my face against her soft, smooth cheek. `What about you?’

        She lifted up my shirt and ran her long fingernails down my back before grabbing hold of my backside. `I’m not too bad,’ she whispered.

        Siobhan sat down on the couch and pulled me down next to her. I kissed her again. `I love you, you know,’ I smiled. `I know!’ she laughed gently.

        I had been with Siobhan for a long time now (by my unimpressive standards) and I still found it hard to believe that she had chosen to be with me. It wasn’t that I thought there was anything particularly wrong with me, it was just that she was so damn perfect and… `Do you want me?’ she asked, pulling me close and quickly derailing my train of thought. Her breath tickled my skin. She knew that she hadn’t really needed to ask the question. I always wanted her. `I want you,’ I gasped, my excitement rapidly rising. I fumbled clumsily to undo my belt and fly. She brushed my hands away and undid my trousers herself. `Then take me,’ she whispered.

        I undid the buttons on the front of her blouse and was about to push it back off her shoulders when she froze. `Shit!’ she snapped, suddenly sitting upright. `What time is it?’ `Who cares,’ I mumbled as I continued to undress her. `I do,’ she insisted. `Bloody hell, it’s nearly eight.’ `So?’

        She gently pushed me away. Feeling suddenly rejected, selfconscious and concerned, I stood and pulled up my trousers. `Sorry, love,’ she sighed, smiling as she pulled her blouse back on. `I almost forgot.’ `Forgot what?’ I asked, frustrated and desperate to make love.

        She reached across for the television remote control and switched on the set. My heart sank. `You must be joking,’ I protested. `You’d rather watch some stupid programme than…’ `It’s not a stupid programme. Bloody hell, you have forgotten, haven’t you?’

        I shrugged my shoulders. `I must have. Haven’t got a clue what you’re talking about.’ `Come on,’ she smiled, `we can try again at half-past. We need to watch this. It’s important.’

        As I wandered over to the window realisation suddenly dawned. Monday night, eight o’clock. It was time for `Visitor Update’. I gazed down into the suddenly silent village and cursed the bloody aliens yet again.

        Visitor Update was shown in every conceivable language in every country. Its purpose was to educate the population in all aspects of alien life. Their biology, psychology, history, sociology and just about everything else was covered in handy half-hour blocks. In the short time that it had been on screen the programme had gathered a following which bordered on the fanatical. Even I usually watched it. I didn’t know of anyone who hadn’t seen it.

        Don’t get me wrong, the programme was always interesting and useful, but I couldn’t understand why it was so popular, and why the rest of the week seemed now to be planned around eight o’clock on Mondays. Given the choice between watching half an hour of alien home movies and making love with Siobhan, I knew which I would have preferred. But she was hooked. She hung on every last second of footage, like just about everyone else seemed to.

        Tonight I couldn’t bring myself to look at the screen. I went out to the kitchen and made a drink.

        I stood in the living room doorway watching Siobhan as the kettle boiled. She was half-dressed and completely transfixed.

        Eventually she sensed that I was watching her. `Come on,’ she sighed, looking over her shoulder. `Come and sit with me.’ `Wouldn’t you rather I waited until your programme had finished,’ I replied sarcastically.

        Her face dropped. `Don’t be like that. You know I’d rather…’ `Rather what? Watch a television programme than make love with me?’ `But it’s not just any old programme, is it? This is important.

        This affects all of us.’ `So put a tape in the video recorder, record the fucking thing and let it affect us later on then.’

        She shook her head sadly. `Come on,’ she said again. `Sit down.’

        The kettle was boiling. I went out and made the drinks.

        I stood alone in the kitchen and fumed silently to myself. She had me wrapped around her little finger and she knew it. I wanted sex with my girlfriend now, was that too much to ask when she obviously wanted it too? I didn’t want to sit through half an hour of bloody alien propaganda and then have sex with her. But the worst thing was, as desperate and pathetic as it might have sounded, I knew that I would have sat through a week of bloody propaganda if I knew that making love with Siobhan would follow.

        Calming myself down (it wasn’t really her fault) I went back into the living room and sat down next to her. She shuffled herself around and lay across my lap. She pushed herself up against me and I revelled in the warm caress of her delicate body on mine. Having her this close was soothing and reassuring.

        Oh Christ, I thought, what’s the matter with me? Why do I feel so out on a limb? Am I that untrusting? Why couldn’t I just sit back and accept the situation in the same way that everyone else had? The fact that I didn’t share everyone else’s utter fascination with the aliens was really starting to bother me. I felt like I was building up a wall between myself and the rest of the world.

        I’d missed the first five minutes of the programme but I hadn’t missed much. A report from Dreighton and some footage from the alien homeworld, but nothing that I hadn’t seen before.

        The next half-hour dragged.

        By the time the programme had finished the faint light in the room had disappeared almost completely. Siobhan got up and switched off the television, plunging the room into a deep, murky darkness. She walked back towards me and I knew that she was undressing. I took off my shirt and, for the second time in an hour, undid my trousers. She lay down on top of me and my excitement rose as I felt her naked body on top of mine. `Still want me?’ she asked.

        I didn’t answer. Wrapping my arms around her I rolled off the sofa, reversing our positions so that she lay on the carpet with me on top. She took hold of me and gently guided me into her. `I love you,’ I whispered. `I love you too,’ she hissed in reply. `Now fuck me.’

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