The Fetch by Robert Holdstock Page A

rifling pages, tossing toys, gasping with his strange pleasure.
    The door of his room opened suddenly and the light went on. Michael jumped, coming quickly awake, shocked as he stood in the middle of the chaos in his room, staring up at his father. He was still holding a pair of shoes, about to toss them. In a disorientating blur he realized he had only been dreaming of Chalk Boy.
    ‘What on earth are you doing? What’s all this yelling?’
    Parental eyes surveyed the untidiness. Sleepy gaze focused angrily. ‘You woke us up.’
    ‘It wasn’t me.’
    Michael looked around. There was no sign of Chalk Boy. Comics and books were strewn around, clothes were draped over shelves and thedesk, even the lamp by the bed.
    ‘Go to bed, Michael!’
    The words were angry. His father watched him until he was below the covers, then turned off the light, adding, ‘I’ll expect this mess to be straightened before you come down to breakfast. Do you understand?’
    ‘Yes,’ Michael said, confused.
    ‘And no more noise!’
    ‘Chalk Boy?’ Michael hissed when he was alone again, in silence. But the room had nothing but shadows now.
    The shadows were filled with voices, old voices from another time. They stalked around him, like ghosts, like the apparition of Chalk Boy, come to taunt him, come from tearful years gone by. Michael leapt into bed and buried his head below the pillow.
    The sounds were muffled in his imagination and after a while he started to listen again, straining to hear them, to remember them, lying there, now staring at the ceiling, aware of the heavy pendulum movement of the clock on the landing, recalling the raised voice, and the crying, from the sitting room below.
    He closed his eyes and squeezed back tears. But the voice shadows wouldn’t go away, brought on by that flash of anger in his father’s face just a few moments ago, that look that had been such a terror to him for so long, from so long ago …

    ‘We made a mistake. We have to face it, Sue, we made a big mistake.’
    ‘You’ve been drinking. You’re disgusting!’
    ‘Keep your voice down. We don’t want the whole world to know.’
    ‘We did
not
make a mistake. If you just showed more interest in him. If you just behaved like his father instead of brooding all the time that hedoesn’t have your
genes
…’
    ‘I can’t relate to him. Don’t you understand that? We’re like chalk and cheese. There’s nothing there. Nothing in there. Do you understand me? It’s a void. His head’s a void. Our relationship is a void!’
    ‘Keep your voice
down
. The poor little devil is only upstairs. He’ll hear.’
    ‘We were so hasty. If we’d just waited, Carol would have come anyway … I’m sure of it …’
    ‘Sometimes I hate you.’
    ‘I know you do. Sometimes I hate myself. But for Christ’s sake, what pleasure is there in him? One child, we said. That’s all we wanted. One child. A natural child—’
    ‘And it didn’t happen. And Michael is part of us now.’
    ‘But he’s
not
. Maybe he is to you. But to me he’s a stranger! He’s cold. I can’t get close to him. It’s the ghost in him, Sue. I’m sure it is. It disturbs me.’
    ‘Nothing’s happened for ages. The haunting’s gone.’
    ‘He haunts
me
. He frightens me.’
    ‘He just wants affection! You don’t bloody well try.’
    ‘I
do
try. But he’s empty. He’s always watching. It was a mistake.’
    ‘We can’t give him back, Richard.’
    ‘Don’t patronize me. I know we can’t. But what am I to do? He’s a stranger in my house. Carol is warm. I can feel her warmth even though she’s only little. She giggles, Sue. She sees me and laughs.’
    ‘Surprise, surprise.’
    ‘You know what I mean. We
feel
for each other …’
    ‘What a bastard you are …’
    ‘I can’t help it. It’s like living with a ghost. I never felt right about adopting—’
    ‘You were such a bloody coward. Such a lying coward. If you’d just once expressedyour doubts we could