The Day the Call Came by Thomas Hinde

Author:Thomas Hinde [Hinde, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Valancourt Books
Published: 2014-08-12T16:00:00+00:00

PART FIVE

I heard it that evening. I was in the back drive, looking north. I ran.

I took it in the office. I lifted the receiver and at once I heard the disconnecting click. I worked the rest, giving the ready-to-receive flashes. There was a second’s pause, then the steady buzz began. I could hear nothing else. As I sat at the office desk, holding the receiver to my ear, looking out through the open door at the sunlit lawn, I heard steps and Molly was coming past.

‘What is it?’ She stopped at the doorway, staring in. Her eyes were frightened.

Perhaps what frightened her was the look of drawn worry which I had allowed to come on my face. I re­laxed it quickly. I made a sign for her to be quiet, as if I was listening. I put my hand over the mouthpiece and said, ‘I’m not sure.’ I took it away and went on listening. I was starting to hear things.

For a second more she stared in, then went away.

As when they’d given me the escape procedure I was hearing them through the dialling tone which never stopped. The difference was that they were fainter, as if they had gone much farther away.

They were so faint that I wondered if they’d been there all the time but I’d not been listening with enough care. At first I couldn’t hear what they were saying. Then I caught it. ‘Beware H.Q. Beware H.Q. Beware H.Q.’

They went on like that for perhaps a minute and then without warning stopped. I gave the receiver a shake, I can’t think why. I said, ‘Are you there?’ Again I flashed the ready-to-receive combination. Nothing happened. I was worried and frightened.

I went into the garden. I showed myself to Molly as I went, as if with purpose, across the lawn towards the tennis court.

‘What happened?’

‘Nothing,’ I said, going on towards the tennis net which I lowered.

Passing her more slowly on the way back I said, ‘Per­haps it’s out of order.’

‘Do you think so?’

‘Could be.’

‘Then why does it ring?’

‘Some fault which disconnects us as soon as it’s lifted.’

She wasn’t convinced, but she thought I might believe it.

I went from place to place in the garden, trying to work it out. Who or what was H.Q.? It wasn’t our word for the central organization. It stood for no local place I could think of.

I tried not to let Molly see how I was moving rest­lessly about with nothing to do, but twice she noticed me and I think she guessed. I went into the house. Per­haps I should go to my attic, but at that time of day it would be unusual.

It was a warning, that was all I could tell. There was something desperate about the far-off way it had come to me and the way it had been cut off.

We had supper. The telephone was still worrying her, I could tell. I was irritated that she should be worried, giving me this new burden. It passed and I talked to the children.

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