Three to See the King

12

I didn’t really like going on the roof, not if I could help it. It seemed a bit high to me, and I’d actually never been up there before. Nonetheless, one afternoon I found myself clambering round on top of the house as if it was second nature. This was all to do with the chimney, of course, and Mary Petrie’s insistence that it still needed lengthening.

‘No point in doing it yet,’ I said, when she raised the subject. ‘It’s practically autumn now and we won’t be opening the shutters till spring.’

‘Oh yes, and then you’ll find another excuse to put it off,’ she replied. ‘I want it done now.’

‘We haven’t got a ladder.’

‘Look!’ she snapped. ‘Do you want me to go up there and sort it out myself?’

‘No, no,’ I said. ‘I’ll take care of it.’

I wasn’t sure how I was going to lengthen it exactly, but I decided that if I went on the roof and carried out an examination, then she’d probably be satisfied for the time being. Having seen Simon, Steve and Philip all go up there without a ladder, I knew it must be possible. I waited until she’d gone for a walk, however, before I tried. To my astonishment I found it quite easy once I’d managed to scramble over the eaves, and by the time she came back I was an accomplished climber. I made sure she saw me at work with a tape measure, checking the length of the chimney against its diameter, as well as taking a note of the circumference. Then I tried to get down, and found I couldn’t.

She’d already gone inside when I made this discovery. The trouble was, when I dangled my foot over the eaves I couldn’t find anywhere to place it. At the same time I felt sudden beads of sweat developing all over my body. I sat there trying to keep calm and puzzling how the others had found it so easy. When I thought about it I realized they were simply more used to it than I was, especially Steve, who’d done countless alterations to his house. It just needed practice, that was all, so after a while I tried again. It was no good, though. The moment I began my descent the beads of sweat returned and I had to go back up. Now I was certain I was stuck.

Just then my eye was caught by the sight of some travellers in the distance. Such people had become so commonplace over recent weeks that if I’d seen them from the ground I’d have barely given them a second glance. From high up here on the roof, however, they appeared in a new perspective, and therefore held my gaze a little longer. Long enough, in fact, for me to notice that they weren’t heading west, as I would have expected, but directly towards me.

Peering more intently I saw that there were three of them, and that they were walking single file in the steadfast purposeful way I’d come to recognize amongst these migrants. Why, I wondered, were they coming to my place? I was about to call Mary Petrie and warn her when something about the first of the three attracted my attention. At the same instant I knew it was Simon Painter. Behind him strode Steve Treacle and Philip Sibling.

The effect of seeing my former friends was to propel me onto my feet, completely forgetful of my fear of heights, and turn away from them. They were sufficiently far off for me to pretend not to have seen them coming, so I fumbled in my pocket for the tape and then proceeded to take all sorts of measurements around the roof. I recorded, for example, the dimensions along the eaves, the rise of the roof above the gutters, and the distance between the gables. I continued like this for another ten minutes or so, all the time making sure I never glanced towards the approaching visitors.

Finally I heard the door opening down below, followed by Mary Petrie crying out.

‘Simon!’ she exclaimed. ‘Steve! Philip! How nice of you to come!’

In feigned surprise I looked round, expecting to see three faces gazing up at me. Instead, they were lost from view, presumably gathered in a cluster around the doorway.

There arose a babble of excited voices, and then I heard Simon saying, ‘He’s on the roof, but he hasn’t seen us yet.’

‘Well, he’ll be glad you’ve come,’ replied Mary Petrie. ‘He’s been missing you all terribly.’

‘What’s he doing up there?’ asked Steve.

‘Oh, he’s messing about pretending to measure the chimney. He’ll be down in a minute.’

I heard a boot scuff the ground, and next thing Steve appeared with a big grin on his face.

‘How’s the weathercock?’ he called.

Tine!’ I replied. ‘Never been wrong yet!’

‘That’s good! Are you going to come down and say hello then?’

His tone of voice wasn’t at all like the abrupt and impatient Steve Treacle I was used to. Instead it was what I could only describe as ‘more than friendly’. He was still smiling, and for some reason this made me feel quite vulnerable up there on the roof.

‘I can’t get down!’ I heard myself say.

‘Oh dear!’ he replied. ‘Wait there and I’ll get help!’

Moments later the others had arrived on the scene, offering words of comfort. I couldn’t see Philip, but I could hear someone scrabbling up the tin walls, and in a moment his head appeared quite close to me.

‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘You’ll soon be safe.’

The next few minutes were a blur of helping hands and guiding voices. In an utterly helpless state I was manoeuvred downwards until eventually I stood swaying on solid ground.

‘There, there,’ said Simon, putting his arm around my shoulder.

‘Thanks,’ I mumbled. ‘I thought I was going to be there for the night.’

‘You’re alright now, though, aren’t you?’

‘Oh yes. Never better.’

My weak attempt to make light of the matter didn’t appear to register with my rescuers. Instead, they all stood round enquiring how I felt and asking if I’d like to lie down for a while. It occurred to me that because of this incident I was now indebted to the three of them, and my actual feeling was one not of relief, but of irritation. To tell them would have been churlish, however, so after I’d recovered sufficiently I invited them into the house.

This was the first time that Simon, Steve and Philip had sat down at my table together, yet I couldn’t help noticing how relaxed they all seemed as a group. It was almost as if they’d spent many days and nights doing nothing but talking and getting to know one another. This I could imagine Simon doing quite easily, but I wouldn’t have expected it of Philip. Nevertheless, there he was in the thick of the conversation, speaking with great confidence to Mary Petrie. For her part she appeared to find our three guests quite fascinating. I’d assumed she would do her disappearing act up the stairs as soon as we got inside, but instead she joined us in the kitchen and started asking all sorts of questions.

‘So,’ she began. ‘What brings you back to these parts then?’

‘I suppose we’re on a mission really,’ replied Philip.

‘A mission?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We have an important task ahead of us.’

‘Don’t tell me you’ve come to fix the chimney?’

‘Not primarily, no.’

Philip glanced at Steve, who was now gazing intently in my direction.

‘Is that why you were on the roof?’ he asked.

‘Sort of,’ I answered. ‘Just having a look really. We think the chimney needs lengthening.’

‘I see.’

‘I suppose you wouldn’t know how to do it, would you?’

I asked the question as casually as possible, because I didn’t want Steve to think I was dependent on him in any way. There was a long pause before he replied, during which I realized he had ceased his habit of continually drumming on the table top.

Instead he sat calm and still in the place opposite mine, with his hands resting before him. Then, at last, he spoke.

‘I can’t do it for you,’ he said. ‘I can only show you how.’

Simon and Philip were seated each side of him, looking as though they approved of every word. Their eyes were on me, and I felt like I was being urged to accept some generous yet unspecified offer. At the same time I saw that Mary Petrie was regarding our visitors with a bemused expression.

‘Oh well,’ I said. ‘Good job I’m a fast learner.’

Steve nodded his head solemnly.

‘Do you have any spare pieces of tin on the premises?’ asked Philip.

‘No, sorry, I don’t.’

He looked genuinely surprised. ‘What, none at all?’

‘No.’

‘But what if a stranger came by and asked for some?’ said Simon. ‘What would you do then?’

‘Don’t know,’ I replied.

‘Has it never happened?’

‘No, actually, it hasn’t!’

Mary Petrie must have realized that this line of talk was beginning to nettle me, because she suddenly rose from her seat and said, ‘I don’t suppose any of you have eaten?’

‘Not for some hours,’ said Steve.

‘Alright,’ she announced. ‘I’ll prepare something.’

‘You’re so kind,’ remarked Simon. ‘Thank you.’

The previous atmosphere of conviviality quickly returned to the table, and for the time being they stopped interrogating me about whether I had any spare pieces of tin. Then I remembered a question of my own.

‘By the way, Simon,’ I said. ‘How did you get along when it came to putting your house back together again?’

This caused all three of them to look at each other and smile. It seemed my enquiry had triggered off some happy collective memory.

‘Oh, quite a disaster really,’ Simon replied. ‘None of the parts would fit properly.’

‘My fault, of course,’ added Steve. ‘We couldn’t tell the roof from the walls, the back from the front, or anything. It was like a pig’s ear when we’d finished.’

He had now turned slightly pink and sat there with a bashful grin on his face, as if joyfully recalling some past foolishness. This was a complete change from the assertive confidence he’d shown a few moments earlier, and I was at a loss to explain why. Meanwhile, the other two appeared equally delighted that things had gone so wrong with Simon’s house.

They exchanged further smiles, then Philip said, ‘Fortunately for us, Michael Hawkins had the solution.’

A murmur of assent arose from his companions, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Mary Petrie glance at me.

‘Really?’ I managed to say.

‘Oh yes,’ declared Simon in an eager voice. ‘Michael built his own house of tin, you see, so he knew what had to be done. With his guidance we simply took mine to pieces and made it whole again.’

That was lucky,’ I said.

‘Oh, it was more than luck,’ said Steve. ‘There’s so much that Michael has learned, because he’s lived out there so long. He’s studied the lie of the land, and he knows which way the wind blows, and when the sun will rise and set. He showed us the best place to build our houses.’

‘So that’s where you’ve all moved to, is it?’

‘Us and many others.’

‘Just to be near this Michael Hawkins?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And we’d like you to join us.’

‘Me?’

‘Well, both of you really.’ Steve now included Mary Petrie in his gaze. ‘Michael has requested it especially.’ ‘Well, why didn’t he come and ask us himself?’ ‘Because he’s far too busy.’ ‘What with?’ ‘He’s creating a canyon for us all to live in.’