Deadly Games by Anthony Masters Page A

to gasp. “Don’t be such idiots –”
    But Sid ignored him. “May. Leslie,” he called calmly. “I’m coming to you. Me and Gumbo. We’re coming.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do?” David realised how exhausted he was and what a long way it would be to the top of the well. The mildewed walls seemed to be closing in on him, the shaft getting deeper. The mother cat was cowed now, no longer spitting or showing her claws, as if her instincts were at last telling her that David meant her no harm.
    â€œThey want me,” said Sid. “And they can have me. Now. I’m going to find them.”
    â€œYou can’t sacrifice yourself,” David protested, suddenly realising what the old man had in mind. He was going to drown himself. “They’re not worth it. Tell him, Jenny.”
    â€œI’ve been trying to,” Jenny shouted. “But he won’t listen.”
    â€œGrab the ladder, Dave,” Sid wheezed. “You’re all in.”
    â€œDo you want me to come to you?” Sid asked again. “Do you want me to drown like you?”
    There was a long, painful silence. Then May and Leslie slowly shook their heads.
    David was so cold and exhausted now that he knew he couldn’t hold on to the ladder much longer.
    â€œYou’ve
got
to hang on,” said Jenny fearfully, seeing his freezing hands slip and grab at the rung again.
    â€œListen.” Sid’s voice was slow, calm and loving. “I mean what I say. I can look after you. Really look after you – like any father would.”
    But May and Leslie shook their heads again, gazing up at him blankly, as if he weren’t getting through.
    â€œI love you,” said Sid. “I’ll always love you.”
    They’ve spent so much time resisting love that they can’t recognise the genuine article, thought Jenny. Then she realised that, once again, she and her twin would have to focus their wills, this time much harder than before. But was David capable of anything but trying to keep himself alive? Somehow, she would have to inspire him.
    â€œDavid,
we’ve
got to reach May and Leslie too. We’ve got to focus.”
    He nodded, still hanging on, screwing up his face in grim determination.
    At first, it was like trying to penetrate an iceberg. But the more the twins concentrated, the more they felt they were beginning to get behind the cold walls of hatred and yearning.
    Suddenly the familiar pale glow began again,surrounding May and Leslie, radiating across the stagnant water and up the clammy walls of the well.
    â€œWe’re winning,” said David between clenched teeth.
    The pale light turned a dazzling sunshine yellow and the twins were surrounded by images of the old repair yard in summer. The place was barely recognisable, with most of the machinery buried in bushy undergrowth, a small, hummocky hill running over the engine shed and the upper branches of the tree that grew out of the signal box in bloom.
    Wild flowers were everywhere and sheep grazed on meadow grass that ran beside a small stream. A small whitewashed stone cottage was nearby and on a bench outside sat Sid, reading a newspaper, carpet slippers on his feet.
    May and Leslie were playing in the stream, the silver droplets of water gleaming on their tanned skin. They were no longer ghosts but real healthy children, dashing under a golden sun towards Sid, who had put his paper down and was waving a greeting. Then Gumbo scampered out of the house and rolled on its back in the grassy warmth.
    Sid picked up a towel from the back of the seat and began to dry May’s and Leslie’s hair, both at the same time. As he did so, the images grew faint and the yellow light of high summer began todraw down into the pale light of the well. Then it vanished altogether.
    â€œThere,” said David, knowing that focusing his will, reaching them and seeing their wild, romantic hopes, had cost him