Mysterious Mysteries of the Aro Valley by Danyl McLauchlan Page B

to him. ‘The discontinuation syndromes will be aggravated by stress.’
    Yes, Danyl thought at his brain: I know you’re under stress. I’m under stress too, and I need you to find a way to get us out of this situation, not make it worse. His brain replied with a second sullen zap, then his eyes—still casting about wildly—focused on a distant object on the kitchen table, halfway across the room, visible through the gap in the room divider. An old-fashioned corded telephone with a keypad.
    Danyl had Joy’s business card in his pocket. Did it have her home number on it? Would phoning it distract the giant? Possibly not, but it was still better than trying to build a weapon from a sock and some pills in less than five seconds. He took out Joy’s card and punched the number into Eleanor’s phone, his damp, trembling finger slipping on the keypad. He keyed in the last digit just as the giant’s massive hands wrapped around the bedframe and began to lift it into the air.
    Danyl rose with it. He’d grabbed the underside of the mattress and braced his feet against the base. This wouldn’t hide him for long, though. Maybe another second—and then the giant was tipping the bed onto its side and kneeling down, first his torso then his massive face coming into view as the bed tipped sideways. The phone’s display flashed: Connecting …
    The giant’s eyes were the size and intensity of candescent light bulbs. They swept the area below the bed. A mere flicker of its mighty ocular muscles and it would look directly at Danyl.
    The display on the phone changed to Ringing , and the telephone on the other side of the house rang out. Danyl clung to the mattress, his teeth clenched, his breath trapped in his lungs. He hung there like this for a very long time—between two and four seconds—while the giant looked over its shoulder in the direction of the phone. Then it stood, letting the bed drop back down. Danyl lost his grip and fell to the floor, but his whimper of pain was drowned out by the thunder of the giant’s passage.
    The phone stopped ringing just as the giant reached it. It snatched it up and, when it heard nothing but a dial tone, spun about and returned to the bedroom. It lifted the bed again and looked underneath. It looked behind the dresser and glanced into the bathroom. It called out ‘Joy?’ Then it stomped back to the kitchen, muttering to itself.
    Danyl was in the bathroom, lying in the bath below the rim, trembling with fear, holding Eleanor’s stolen phone in one hand and something clenched in his fist in the other.
    He uncurled his fingers to reveal a mass of blue paper screwed into ball.
    Ha! The blue envelope! Danyl had picked it up on the way to the bathroom and he’d done so without thinking about it so that his brain couldn’t stop him. Brilliant.
    There was something drawn on the outside of the envelope, visible between his white knuckles. He breathed out, very slowly, and further unclenched his fingers.
    The envelope opened like a flower. Inside its torn petals was a picture of a spiral.

11
The plot against reality
    Verity’s second photography exhibition opened on a warm evening in mid-summer. The party was held in the showroom of Te Aro Art Gallery. This was a large, bare room with white walls and polished wooden floors.
    Danyl arrived late. He’d overslept. He’d been sleeping a lot, recently, and even when he was awake he never had any energy. He’d barely written a word of his book. He’d even forgotten that Verity’s exhibition was today until he woke to find a Post-it note stuck to his bare belly, reading:

    Darling. I know things haven’t been right between us, but my opening is at five and I’d love you to be there .
    Verity

    The gallery was crowded and loud. Danyl squeezed through a group of nudists clustered around the doorway and peered through the throng, looking for Verity.