THE POLICEWOMAN was very kind and sat next to Jacqui, allowing her to sob on her shoulder. Jacqui was too shaken to use the phone; besides, her throat was so dry that she could barely speak. Meanwhile, the other officer offered to phone Adam. And within minutes, so it seemed, Adam was at her side and giving her a hug. This was some comfort. Seeing that Jacqui was no longer alone, the police officers tactfully took their leave.

Once Jacqui had composed herself somewhat, Adam helped her to collect some essential belongings, and guided her to his car. In no time at all, so it seemed, they were on the motorway and racing full-tilt towards Nottingham. Fortunately there was little traffic at that time of night, and even more fortunately, as they approached the East Midlands area, much of the flooding had subsided and the motorway was now clear. They reached the hospital in the early morning while it was still dark, and almost dashed to the ward where Nathan was on life support.

*

Nathan looked so small and still, with all the tubes attached: almost like a doll, but there was no visible change in his general appearance and no sign of any injuries. Thelma was there, her face tear-stained, looking so different from when Jacqui had first seen her—jeans and tank-top, no make-up, no scent—that Jacqui barely recognised her. But when she did, they embraced each other tearfully. United in grief, all their differences forgotten. Adam, too, joined in the mutual hugs.

They stood watching Nathan for quite a while, waiting to see if he showed any sign of movement—but there was none. A doctor appeared, and told them that he was very sorry: it was too early to give a prognosis. Thelma whispered to Jacqui that Paul’s body was in the hospital mortuary: she had already been to see him but they wanted one of his next-of-kin to formally identify him. Jacqui wanted to go and see him anyway, so they called for a nurse to conduct them to the mortuary. There, Paul seemed so small—but quite calm and peaceful. There was a police officer there and Jacqui went through the formalities. Then she felt his cold hand and touched his cold cheek, thinking of all the good times they’d had—then she sank partly into Thelma’s arms and partly into Adam’s, and burst into convulsive sobs. She realised that, for all his faults, for all his deceits, she had really loved him all the time…

They remained by Nathan’s side for most of the day, hoping against hope for some change. Paul’s sister Lesley, who had only just been tracked down and contacted, phoned so say that she and her parents were on their way and would arrive that evening. Jacqui tried to phone Helen, but there was no reply. She left a voicemail. She then tried Joyce Dawson, but Joyce could not say where Helen might be. All they could do was wait. Late in the afternoon they were shoo’d out of the ward: the doctor promising to call them immediate­ly if there was any change.

Thelma said she could put Adam and Jacqui up in the flat she had shared with Paul, for which they were extremely grateful. They could sleep in her bed, while she would make do on the sofa. Jacqui was more or less composed now, and she agreed to phone around as many of their friends who had not yet been notified, while Lesley, who had just arrived, took on the task of contacting Paul’s more distant relatives, and the undertakers.

The days passed, drearily. Nathan showed no change. News reports confirmed that twenty-six people had lost their lives in the local flooding. Paul was no more than a statistic! There were forms to sign, arrangements to make, the death to be registered. The coroner agreed to Paul’s remains being released for burial.

*

So it was on a cold, damp January morning that Jacqui, Adam and Thelma, along with Paul’s parents and Lesley, and a few other friends and relatives, stood in a dismal cemetery watching Paul’s coffin being lowered into the grave. Jacqui was wearing a sombre black dress which she had had to buy specially for the occasion, and her black coat. Thelma was similarly attired. They clung to each other and to Adam as the grave was slowly filled.

They were walking back to the car when Jacqui’s phone rang. It was Helen.

“So sorry I didn’t call you earlier, but I’m sure you must have had much on your mind. And yes, I got your voicemail. Terribly sorry to hear the news about Paul: I can guess how you must be feeling. And poor little Nathan! Is there any change in him?”

“Not much. He moves his hand now and again, and his eyelids flutter. We’re still hoping.”

“Listen, Jacqui, there have been some developments at Wist­bourne. I know it’s a bad time, but I really need you there straight away.”

“But—but I’m in Nottingham. I’ve just come from burying Paul.”

“I know that, Jacqui. I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t really really important. But there’s been a change with the Sous. They seem much more agitated. And Corporal Townsend had another go at trying to make some contact with them. He heard the voices in his head, very faintly—he could hardly make anything out. But the message seemed to be ‘Please bring talking woman. Please bring Jacqueline Hartmead’. So they’re asking for you by name. Not me, not any of my men. You.”

“But—but…”

“Please, Jacqui—please do this for us. It could be the most important thing that’s ever happened on Earth. I’m sure Adam can take care of things, your end, until you return. Just tell us where the cemetery is, and stay there. We’ll find somewhere to set down the helicopter. We can be with you in little over an hour.”

Jacqui had run out of arguments, so she acquiesced. Thelma and Adam led her to a little chapel that stood at the edge of the cemetery, and they sat there in silent thought, while Paul’s parents and Lesley stopped at the graveside for a while longer, then took their leave and returned to their hotel. Sure enough, just over an hour later Jacqui heard the buzz of an approaching helicopter. It settled down on a grassy area adjacent to the new graves. Jacqui kissed Adam and Thelma, and made her way towards Helen who was coming to meet her.

*

The flight took little longer than the one from London had. Jacqui guessed that this military ‘chopper’ was a good deal faster than civilian models, because it seemed almost no time before they were descending towards the familiar tarmac in the centre of Wistbourne. As usual, the jeep was waiting to transport them to the Manor. Jacqui could barely wait to don her breathing kit: then she dashed straight to the habitat still in her black coat and dress. She knew how to operate the airlock now: within seconds she was in the chamber.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The Sous were thrashing about more vigorously than she had ever seen them—leaping clean out of the water from time to time. When they sensed her presence all three focused their Big Bells at her: not just Wiggy. And the message was clear:

> “Our Kin have made contact with us. They approach. They may even be here. Rescue has come: we expect to be taken to our home planet. We want to thank you.”

“I did very little,” said Jacqui. “Just came to visit, from time to time.” For the first time since first making their acquaintance, Jacqui felt somewhat annoyed with her strange ‘friends’. Dragging her all the way here to Wistbourne, from her ex-husband’s funeral of all things, and away from where she should be: at poor Nathan’s hospital bedside…! She just hoped her thoughts weren’t being conveyed to the Sous. But if they were, the Sous showed no reaction.

> “You gave us hope,” they continued. “You communicated with us, when there were no others to communicate with. Without you we might not have survived.”

“Whether I had any part in it, I am glad you will meet beings of your own kind at last. I wish you well for your journey home.”

When Jacqui rejoined Helen in the Manor, and explained what she’d heard, Helen was ecstatic. “They’ve been interesting to look after, but honestly I’m glad we’ll be shot of these creatures. I’ve seen my fill of extraterrestrials now: won’t need to go to any of those Steven Spielberg movies any more! I wonder what sort of ‘space­ship’ will be coming to collect them. Another ‘blimp’ perhaps. Shall we look out and see if one’s coming?”

Despite her longing to get back to Adam and Nathan, Jacqui felt she might as well make the most of her impromptu Wistbourne trip. So the two of them stood out on the tarmac ‘green’ armed with powerful binoculars, and scanned the skies eagerly, but there was no sign of anything—not so much as a speck in the sky, apart from the usual passing aircraft.

It was beginning to get dark, and still no sign of any UFO. “Would you like to stay the night?” asked Helen. “You can sleep in my room here if you’re willing.”

Jacqui phoned Adam who reassured her that Nathan was now making good progress. He was off the life support and breathing normally, and the doctors were hopeful that he would make a full recovery—although it was too early to say if he’d suffered some brain damage. Thus encouraged, Jacqui agreed to sleep over at Wistbourne and return to Nottingham the following day—by train if the helicopter wasn’t available.

*

It must have been about midnight when Helen shook her awake. “They’ve arrived. Come and look!” she whispered excitedly.

So they quickly dressed and rushed out onto the village ‘green’. Sure enough, there was a big oval shape, like an airship, hovering over the village. It was bathed in a faint yellow glow, slowly pulsating—just as Bill Smyth had described in his vision all those years ago. Several of Helen’s men were nearby, also watching in amazement. One of them was training a video camera at the ‘blimp’.

“Shall we activate a searchlight, Sir?” he asked. “Get a better view?”

But Helen refused. “We don’t want to frighten them away. Just go on filming them in infrared.”

As they watched, the ship gradually descended and settled down on the ‘green’. It rested there for quite a long time, still faintly glowing—but nothing seemed to be happening.

“Are we meant to introduce ourselves?” asked Jacqui, a bit flippantly. “Bang on the door and wait for the ‘take me to your leader’ stuff or what?”

“Let’s just wait and see,” replied Helen. And sure enough, a few minutes later, Jacqui heard a sort of rustling, scraping sound behind her. Wheeling round, she saw the three Sous approaching. Yes!—the Sous crawling over the dry land, and seemingly able to survive in the Earth’s atmosphere. How they had got out of their habitat, Jacqui couldn’t begin to guess. They wriggled towards the ship and stopped, a few feet short.

As Jacqui and the others watched, dark lines in the form of a rectangle appeared on the side of the ship, where no lines had been visible before. A hatch slowly opened, revealing a darker interior. It folded down so as to serve as a ramp. At once the three Sous wriggled forward, mounted the ramp, and disappeared inside the ship.

“Wait!” shouted Jacqui suddenly, on impulse. It had dawned on the journalist in her, that no-one had ever seen the interior of an alien spaceship. What a scoop that would be, if she could get a few snapshots!—and she still had her smartphone with her. “I haven’t said a proper good-bye yet!” she yelled. And before anyone could stop her, she dashed towards the ship. “Stop! Come back!” screamed Helen, but Jacqui paid no heed. In a moment she had bounded up the ramp.

*

Inside was a dimly red-lit space, devoid of any furniture or other objects. There was no sign of the Sous, and she could see no obvious doorway on the far or side walls. Not much of a subject for a photo­graph, she felt, with some disappointment, as she stepped gingerly towards the far wall. She was still looking for a door, wondering whether some ‘trick’ would make one appear, when she heard an ominous humming sound behind her. Twisting round in a panic, she saw that the hatch was closing. She raced towards the opening, but too late: the hatch had sealed shut and disappeared, and she was trapped inside the ship.

“Stop! Help—let me out!” she screamed, hammering against the space on the wall where the hatch had been. Suddenly, as she continued pounding, she felt dizzy once again. She had a sensation of falling, and the walls of the chamber seemed to be closing in on her. She was falling—falling—into a dark-red, almost black space. But only for a moment: then the scene suddenly changed—

—She was lying on her back, on a sort of soft bed. She was no longer in the bare chamber in the spaceship. Instead she was in a kind of small dome bathed in a soft, reddish light. The walls appeared to be translucent but she could make out nothing through them, except at one point where a brighter light appeared to be shining—also reddish. It was warm, but the air seemed to have become a bit thinner. She could breathe reasonably easily, but wondered what had happened. She had a slight feeling of nausea. Had she fainted? And had she been moved to another room in the ship, or had she been rescued and taken somewhere in Wistbourne? This dome looked like no room she had ever seen in the village, or elsewhere, but there were many secrets she had yet to learn. But why this strange place? And what had become of Wiggy, Wally and Weeny? She felt for them as her friends: had they fainted too?

With an effort she sat up, feeling somewhat light-headed and still a bit sea-sick. Then she realised she was naked. In some indignation, she looked around. The dome floor was awash with water, just as the Sous’ habitat had been. There was no window, no visible entrance, except a small tunnel like the entrance to an igloo, below the water­line and only a few inches across. Well, a Sou might get through that, but she couldn’t. And where were her clothes? The only ‘furniture’ in the dome was the bed-like structure she’d been lying on, and an upright cylinder with some kind of hinged lid on it—possibly a commode. She stood up in the water, which was only a foot deep, and peered under the ‘bed’. Nothing. What madness had possessed her so recklessly to board the ship! And where was she? She could only sit on the bed and wait.