be back on solid ground, and he recovered rapidly.
“Like ants in a Lego set,” he chirped, gazing about him.
A streak of lightning ripped through the darkness and the thunder rolled. Then sirens started – lots of them. The port police were responding to the emergency outside the Landguard Fort. So too were the fire engines and the ambulances. In a matter of moments, they were all speeding through the gates.
“What’s going on out there?” Shiela asked as she drew alongside the others. “Is that screaming?”
Howie was holding the book to his chest. “The flock is bleating,” he muttered. “They are lost and abandoned and searching for the way. I shall paint this night, I shall paint…”
A savage crack of lightning directly overhead caused everyone to look up. There were sparks spitting from the lamp towers.
“They’re going to have to buy new cameras tomorrow,” Jezza said simply. “Let’s get on with what we came here for.”
Miller, Dave and Charlie heaved the great Gothic-looking object out of the container and set it down the right way up. A reverberating clang went echoing between the container canyons.
Shiela approached it warily. It was a great metal chair, no – it was more like a throne. She wandered around it, careful not to get too close. There was something unpleasant, almost malevolent, about it, not just because it was heavy and ugly or because it was too large for a normal-sized person to sit on comfortably. Crafted from fancy cast-iron work, with curling fronds and interlocking patterns, it seemed more than what it appeared to be, as though it had another purpose. Each arm was formed to be like a cage, so was the seat and the high back.
“It’s horrible,” she said.
Queenie had no such misgivings. She was already using it as a prop to dance suggestively around. Manda had found the beers and was necking her first while Tommo brandished a plastic bag and brought out a packet of burgers and some baps.
“Let’s get this party cooking!” he said.
“Don’t be a cretin all your life,” Jezza told him severely. “Chuck that crap away and get the coals.”
The lightning continued to crackle overhead.
“I’ve never seen an electrical storm like this,” Charlie declared. He lifted his hand and viewed it through his thick lenses. The hairs were standing on end. “The air is charged with static!”
“Gather around the Waiting Throne,” Jezza told everyone. “Not too close, and keep away from the containers. It might get a bit … frisky up there.”
“Ow!” Manda cried as a whisker of blue light leaped from the can to her lip. She dropped it and the beer went foaming over the floor.
“What’s going on?” Miller called.
“We’re just charging up,” Jezza answered. “This is the best place for it – all this wonderful metal, like a massive aerial.”
“Tuning into what?” Shiela asked.
The man smiled at her. “Whom,” he said.
“I love it!” Queenie shouted, tingling as she stroked the arm of the iron chair.
“Ow!” Manda cried again. This time her necklace was throwing out millipede legs of energy and she removed it hastily. It jumped and twitched on the ground.
“I advise you all to get rid of any jewellery now,” Jezza told them.
Bracelets and rings were hurriedly taken off and Charlie had to lose his glasses. Shiela could feel her hair lifting and there was an unpleasant tang in her mouth.
“Like licking a battery,” Tommo said, voicing her own thoughts.
He had been bringing out the bags of charcoal. Now Jezza ripped them open and, taking one to the chair, twisted one of the designs in the ironwork. The top of an arm hinged open. It took three bags to fill the space beneath. Then he went to the other arm and did the same there.
The lightning continued to flash and split the sky.
Shiela had been staring up at the giant cranes. The electricity was leaping between them, arcing across the port in a spectacular display.
She could not
“Like ants in a Lego set,” he chirped, gazing about him.
A streak of lightning ripped through the darkness and the thunder rolled. Then sirens started – lots of them. The port police were responding to the emergency outside the Landguard Fort. So too were the fire engines and the ambulances. In a matter of moments, they were all speeding through the gates.
“What’s going on out there?” Shiela asked as she drew alongside the others. “Is that screaming?”
Howie was holding the book to his chest. “The flock is bleating,” he muttered. “They are lost and abandoned and searching for the way. I shall paint this night, I shall paint…”
A savage crack of lightning directly overhead caused everyone to look up. There were sparks spitting from the lamp towers.
“They’re going to have to buy new cameras tomorrow,” Jezza said simply. “Let’s get on with what we came here for.”
Miller, Dave and Charlie heaved the great Gothic-looking object out of the container and set it down the right way up. A reverberating clang went echoing between the container canyons.
Shiela approached it warily. It was a great metal chair, no – it was more like a throne. She wandered around it, careful not to get too close. There was something unpleasant, almost malevolent, about it, not just because it was heavy and ugly or because it was too large for a normal-sized person to sit on comfortably. Crafted from fancy cast-iron work, with curling fronds and interlocking patterns, it seemed more than what it appeared to be, as though it had another purpose. Each arm was formed to be like a cage, so was the seat and the high back.
“It’s horrible,” she said.
Queenie had no such misgivings. She was already using it as a prop to dance suggestively around. Manda had found the beers and was necking her first while Tommo brandished a plastic bag and brought out a packet of burgers and some baps.
“Let’s get this party cooking!” he said.
“Don’t be a cretin all your life,” Jezza told him severely. “Chuck that crap away and get the coals.”
The lightning continued to crackle overhead.
“I’ve never seen an electrical storm like this,” Charlie declared. He lifted his hand and viewed it through his thick lenses. The hairs were standing on end. “The air is charged with static!”
“Gather around the Waiting Throne,” Jezza told everyone. “Not too close, and keep away from the containers. It might get a bit … frisky up there.”
“Ow!” Manda cried as a whisker of blue light leaped from the can to her lip. She dropped it and the beer went foaming over the floor.
“What’s going on?” Miller called.
“We’re just charging up,” Jezza answered. “This is the best place for it – all this wonderful metal, like a massive aerial.”
“Tuning into what?” Shiela asked.
The man smiled at her. “Whom,” he said.
“I love it!” Queenie shouted, tingling as she stroked the arm of the iron chair.
“Ow!” Manda cried again. This time her necklace was throwing out millipede legs of energy and she removed it hastily. It jumped and twitched on the ground.
“I advise you all to get rid of any jewellery now,” Jezza told them.
Bracelets and rings were hurriedly taken off and Charlie had to lose his glasses. Shiela could feel her hair lifting and there was an unpleasant tang in her mouth.
“Like licking a battery,” Tommo said, voicing her own thoughts.
He had been bringing out the bags of charcoal. Now Jezza ripped them open and, taking one to the chair, twisted one of the designs in the ironwork. The top of an arm hinged open. It took three bags to fill the space beneath. Then he went to the other arm and did the same there.
The lightning continued to flash and split the sky.
Shiela had been staring up at the giant cranes. The electricity was leaping between them, arcing across the port in a spectacular display.
She could not
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