Simon noticed me surveying the vista. ‘Not too shabby when the sun’s out, is it?’
He pushed his glasses up onto the bridge of nose. Simon was a few years older than me, in his early thirties, six foot two and a little overweight. He had a loud voice and the demeanour of an overgrown schoolboy. To my perpetual astonishment, he also appeared to be highly attractive to women – or at least a certain type of woman. The type who like overgrown schoolboys. This wouldn’t have been an issue if he wasn’t married.
‘Where are these UFO nuts camped out?’ I asked.
Simon pointed and we made our way across the hill before descending the steep, grassy steps at Ecclesbourne Glen. At the bottom of the glen we began the long climb to the cliff top. By the time we reached the summit, Simon was puffing like a broken-down steam train.
I looked up and saw what we had come for. A pair of blue two-man tents were pitched behind a row of blackberry bushes. I waited for Simon to catch his breath and we strolled over to where two men were examining the tents.
The first man – tall, early twenties, goatee – stuck out his hand and said, ‘Good morning.’
He was American. Despite the heat he was wearing a leather jacket, which had WATCH THE SKIES spelt out in Tipp-ex on the back, below a crudely drawn picture of a UFO. ‘You must be the guys from the paper.’
We introduced ourselves. Richard Thompson. Simon Ryder.
‘Pete,’ he said. ‘Beautiful day, huh? And the forecast says we’re going to have clear skies tonight. Great watching weather.’
The other man – forties, receding blond hair and wire-framed glasses, a pair of expensive binoculars around his neck – looked us over. ‘I’m Andrew Jade,’ he said, as if he expected us to have heard of him.
When neither of us showed recognition, Andrew Jade went on. ‘I’m so glad you could find the time to come and talk to us.’ He spoke slowly, as if he was choosing his words meticulously. Maybe he was just wary of the press. I guess he was used to people ridiculing his beliefs.
‘Is it just the two of you?’ Simon asked. His breathing had just about returned to normal.
‘Oh no,’ replied Andrew. ‘There’s Fraser. And Marie.’
As he said this there was a rustling sound and a young woman of about twenty-three pushed her way out from between two bushes. She smiled and came over.
She had long, very pale red hair and was slim and small-framed. Her eyes were concealed behind oval sunglasses, and a tiny silver stud glinted in the side of her nose. She wore a plain black T-shirt and olive combat trousers. She offered me a slim hand. It was warm. Without speaking a word, she stepped backwards and sat down, apparently exhausted, in one of the lawn chairs.
Pete winked at Marie and I tried to tear my eyes away from her. She seemed unaware of my attention. She sat back in the chair and turned her face towards the rich blue sky. Because of her shades, I couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or closed.
‘Fraser’s gone into town for provisions,’ said Andrew. ‘He should be back soon.’
Simon looked thoughtful. ‘Fraser? Wasn’t that the name of one of the country rangers who reported seeing the lights?’
Andrew nodded. ‘That’s him.’
‘I thought he was meant to be off work, sick.’ He scribbled something in his notebook.
‘He’s frightened,’ said Marie. We all turned to look at her. She took off her sunglasses. She had large round eyes, the colour of blue light shone through frosted glass. She smiled. ‘He’s seen something he can’t reconcile with what he believes.’ She smiled, showing a gap in her front teeth. ‘He doesn’t realise there’s nothing to be scared of.’
Simon rolled his eyes. Usually, I would have done the same but there was an ironic lilt in her voice – like she was aware that others might find her words ridiculous – that stopped me from sneering.
Simon looked at his watch. ‘I haven’t got much time, actually. Do you mind if we get on?’
Andrew shrugged. ‘Go ahead.’
Simon asked them in a bored tone of voice about the lights – was this a common form of sighting? What were they hoping to achieve by camping out and keeping watch?
‘Are you expecting a landing?’
Andrew shook his head. ‘We don’t expect this encounter to go beyond the first or second kind. We’re not looking for anything other than a sign. I don’t know how deeply you want to get into this, but we don’t believe that the time is yet right for full contact.’
‘So you’re not expecting to meet any aliens tonight?’ Simon smirked as he spoke.
‘Of course not. All that we hope for is . . . some information. A sign.’ He held his hands out, palms upward.
‘I see.’ Simon scribbled. ‘Tell me, have any of you ever been abducted? Have you ever seen an alien?’
‘No, but I know a man who has,’ Pete sniggered.
Andrew ignored the young American. ‘I hope you’re not poking fun at us, Mr Ryder.’
‘As if I would do such a thing.’
I tuned out of the rest of the exchange and turned to look at Marie. She had leant back in the chair again and put her sunglasses back on. A gentle breeze stirred her hair. She was beautiful and . . . cool. Like one of the alternative, unattainable girls I’d fancied at school, the type who had boyfriends at university and hung around with rock bands.
‘—going to take some pictures? Richard? Wake up!’
I snapped back into the real world. ‘Sorry, what was that?’
Simon tutted. ‘I thought for a minute your brain had been abducted. I said, are you going to take some pictures?’
I looked at Marie, who appeared oblivious to this exchange. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep. I readied my camera and said, ‘OK. Can you stand in front of your tents? Actually, it might be better on the edge of the cliff.’
I decided that a picture of them with the open sea behind them would be most apt and dramatic. Pete and Andrew posed by the stringy fence with its faded red DANGER sign. ‘Marie?’ I said.
‘Leave her,’ said Andrew. ‘She won’t have her picture taken. She doesn’t believe in it.’
‘Oh.’ I shrugged, trying to hide my personal and professional disappointment. A picture with a pretty girl in it was a lot more likely to get a prominent slot in the paper. ‘I guess it will have to be just you two handsome guys then.’
Andrew frowned. Pete gurned. I took a few shots.
‘Right,’ Simon said, ‘I think that will do.’
I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to talk to Marie some more. Or just stand and look at her.