54

The man without eyelids had driven the three of them back from the car park by Llyn Ogwen south, the length of Wales, out through Bristol. The journey only took a few hours, but Ella and Conor took the opportunity to sleep despite the discomfort of the vehicle. Conor found it strange at the service station in Cardiff how nobody took a second glance at their strange keeper. Frankly, no one seemed to pay the three of them any mind at all. They exited the old Land Rover Defender near Platt Park, which led into woods that would eventually bring them home.

It was late when they reached their oak. Very late. Conor was glad he’d slept. He knew he needed to be alert for whatever came next. The strength of the man without eyelids was made apparent again as he heaved himself first to Conor’s branch and then up to Ella’s with total ease. Ella had adopted Conor’s branch as her own now, leaving Calum’s to the new youngest. He placed his can of Monster from the service station in the twisted root.

“To whom will you go?” The man asked, looking out at the three houses ahead of them as they peered out leftwards from Ella’s branch towards the faint outline of Mrs Careen, Number Seven and Mr Armitage.

“Mr Armitage’s, of course,” replied Conor - the only possible play for safety - “he’s the only one that can tell us anything about the three sisters.”

“Not so fast,” replied his sister, “are we sure about that?”

Conor paused, he realised then that there was no way of guaranteeing finding safety with Mr Armitage. More likely they’d be taking the man without eyelids, the man who accepted their fathers scalp as sacrifice, into the house of the two people Conor had left in this world. The way to safety was to do what this man wanted. He thought of Mr Armitage, unable to listen to a word his brother said. His total absent-mindedness and aloofness. He’d drawn nothing from the loss of the sisters, that had simply expedited his emptying.

“What about Number Seven?” He asked Ella, “he must be one of the empties?”

They stood and watched as a dark figure emerged crossing through Mrs Careen’s back garden, through the hedge-hole and down through the barricades of Number Seven, the shape moving like it was avoiding land mines. The back door opened and the outlined dark stepped inside and was swallowed.

Ella was laughing, “but we’re not looking for someone empty, are we, Con. We need someone old and full. Believe me, he is - diseased but full.”

The three of them descended the oak and began moving towards Number Seven. Conor and Ella walked behind their foul guardian.