The In-Between

Other books by the author

The Cloud Catcher

Chimera

Bursting with Life

The Boy in the Book

Stories People Tell

Local Voices

Boy & Girl Saga

Boy & Girl - Book One

In Search of Lost Girls - Book Two

We Girls - Book Three

Colourful People - Book Four

The Storyteller’s Quest

The Reaches - Book One

The Keeper’s Daughter - Book Two

The Starless Square - Book Three

Table of Contents

Other books by the author

Table of Contents

Prologue.

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

18.

19.

20.

21.

22.

23.

24.

25.

26.

27.

28.

29.

30.

31.

32.

33.

34.

35.

36.

37.

38.

39.

40.

41.

42.

43.

44.

45.

46.

47.

48.

49.

50.

51.

52.

Annexes

The Author

Boy & Girl

In Search of Lost Girls

We Girls

Colourful People

The Boy in the Book

Bursting with Life

The Cloud Catcher

Chimera

Stories People Tell

Local Voices

The Reaches

The Keeper’s Daughter

The Starless Square

Prologue.

The In-Between! Sounds like some spiritist mumbo-jumbo. Don’t tell me you’ve been table-turning again.

Ellie chuckled. Grandfather Aanan had a strange sense of humour. It was you that coined the expression, she reminded him. How could you forget? You were short-listed for a Nobel because of it.

So I was. So I was. He laughed. That’s what you get from spending too many late nights doing research. Rank confusion. Or maybe it’s too many impertinent questions from your granddaughter. He unfolded a handkerchief with exaggerated care and wiped his eyes that had watered from too much laughing. But seriously though, what do you want to know?

I get it. There’s an in-between, but between where or when or what?

See that mug of coffee?

Ellie nodded, perplexed. What was the old man getting at?

Take a swig, he said, proffering the mug.

She hesitated. She was not fond of coffee, especially as Aanan liked it strong. Without milk or sugar, it was so bitter. She pinched her lips at the tartness of the liquid and shook her head as if that could rid her of the taste.

Exactly, he said with a chuckle. But what if it had been hot chocolate?

It wasn’t, she replied with regret, wiping the traces of coffee from her lips.

True. But elsewhere, in a parallel universe, it certainly was.

So you are saying the in-between is a space between alternate universes? In that case, there must be an infinity of in-betweens to cater for all the parallel possibilities.

That was the beauty of my discovery, the one that had me winning a Nobel in some alternate universe, he said, increasingly animated by the idea as he took the mug from her and downed a mouthful. There’s only one.

1.

Here, Ellie said, hurrying to take the bread knife from her grandmother’s trembling fingers. Let me do that.

I… Her grandmother’s eyes lit up as if she’d just had a brilliant idea, but that light rapidly faded, giving way to a frown followed by a look of consternation. The old woman sank back into herself, not physically but mentally, as if she were fed up chasing wayward ideas. Her lips remained slightly apart in anticipation, but no further words were forthcoming.

Ellie cut a slice of bread, making sure to place the serrated knife on a high shelf, well out of reach. Jam? she asked. Silly question. Her grandmother was past being able to make such choices. But Ellie couldn’t help trying.

Honey, her grandmother said, surprising both Ellie and herself. Yes, honey. The look of triumph on her grandmother’s face at such a hard-won success had Ellie looking away to conceal her tears. She busied herself reaching for the honey from a shelf and spread it on the bread before cutting the slice into bite-sized pieces.

It took the old woman a while to come to terms with the sticky bread, but she finally managed to push a morsel into her mouth, sucking her fingers once she had. Ellie was spared having to watch her grandmother laboriously eating by the arrival of Thalia, her grandmother’s nurse. The young woman, who lived in, was returning from a short stay with her own parents. Greetings, Thalia, Ellie said. How were things at home?

Fine, the young nurse replied, invariably short on words. Thanks for asking. Thalia turned her attention to the old woman, only to look back at Ellie over her shoulder, saying, Grandfather’s looking for you.

Thalia called him ‘Grandfather’ even though he was no grandfather of hers. Grandfather and Grandmother, that’s what they called the two, although Aanan called his wife Buppe which amounted to the same. Her grandfather wasn’t hard to locate. At that time of day, in fact at any time of the day, he was in his library pawing over his books or scribbling his latest ideas. She found him absorbed in a black notebook. Ah, Ellie, he said looking up from his reading. You asked me about the In-Between.

She nodded. It had been several days. She was surprised he remembered. She shouldn’t have been. His mind was as sharp as ever and his memory excellent. Thank heavens he’d been spared the plight of his wife.

I’d like you to have this, he said, holding out the notebook. It’s my notes on the subject. As he relinquished the book, he added, Take great care of it. It’s Nobel Prize material. He chuckled. But seriously, many unscrupulous people would like to get their hands on it.

She was touched by his trust, but at the same time, she couldn’t help suspecting he was having her on. Who could possibly be interested in such a shabby, old notebook? No doubt if she read it, she’d understand.

He seemed to flare her scepticism, because he said, "For once, I’m deadly serious. No one must know. If they were to learn it was in your hands, some people would stop at nothing to get it.

His warning sent a shiver down her spine. She was tempted to glance over her shoulder to check nobody was watching, instead she flipped open the book to the first page. Her grandfather’s handwriting in a no-nonsense script was clear and legible. She read the first lines: There is one unique In-Between. All universes can and must be accessed through it… A flippant thought had her wondering if such a narrow passage would lead to traffic jams.

I would like you to read it a page a day and, when you have, I want you to explain what you’ve understood.

I don’t get it, she replied, running her fingers through her hair. Why should I explain what you’ve written and obviously understood yourself?

We use writing to fix our thoughts and communicate them to others, but words are not always sound messengers. An author rarely has a chance to hear what his reader has understood. He made a grimace. It’s probably better that way. As for this particular book, I want to make sure your understanding is as close as possible to what I had in mind. Or if it differs, see if my ideas need changing.

That her thoughts might challenge what he’d written seemed highly improbable, but she appreciated him being open to the possibility. Sounds a bit like the tests they set at school. So saying, she was aware she was just making conversation. Truth be said, nothing in the real world could be akin to the useless tests school forced them to endure."

I doubt it, he replied. Most of the time, school flings information at you with little or no consideration for whether you understand. All you have to do is restitute what you’ve been taught. Understanding is not necessary.

Aren’t you being a bit harsh? she replied, closing the book and pocketing it. Some teachers are genuinely interested in learning rather than teaching.

I suppose it’s possible school has changed since I was a boy. It’s been a while. Turning back to his papers, he said, a broad grin belying his strict tone, Now run along, I have things to do.

It was a game. She knew it. But it still irked her to be dismissed. Are you sure you don’t need me to help you take your medicine? she shot back.

Be off with you, impudent hussy! At which both of them burst out laughing.

Ellie lived in a converted loft in the attic of her grandparents’ house reached by a spiral staircase with its own entrance at the back. She’d lived there ever since her parents died in a car accident some five years earlier. When she reached sixteen, her grandfather had decided to have the loft converted so she could live independently, but, despite her newly won freedom, she spent much of her free time with him and most evening meals she continued to take with her grandparents and Thalia.

Even though she was almost eighteen, her grandfather insisted no boys were allowed in the loft. The limitation had little impact as all her close friends were girls. She had to smile at his naivety. How mistaken could you be to think no mischief would come of two girls being alone together in a bedroom? Her mind drifted to Aline, a girl her age, whose recent visits could hardly be described as innocent. Brushing aside enticing memories, she sank into an armchair and retrieved Aanan’s book from her pocket.

Having read and re-read the first page, one thing remained annoyingly illusive. Were all these parallel worlds a simple iteration of this one? Or were there completely different worlds that in no way resembled hers? If ever anyone were to embark on travelling between worlds, the answer would be crucial. Imagine popping up in a world where the atmosphere was all wrong, or the inhabitants were inherently hostile to humans. She was just making a mental note to raise the question with Aanan when the clang of a distant bell announced the evening meal.

Only two places had been set. Where are the others? she asked, taking her place opposite her grandfather as the cook bustled in bearing a tureen of soup.

Bubbe was exhausted after all that bread and honey… A hint of a smile formed at the corner of his lips. For all his amusement, his wife’s absence touched him deeply. Was it so surprising? They’d been together for more than sixty years. Surely he longed to continue having his wife at his side, the love of his life, his faithful companion, a sounding board for all his wild ideas. Instead, she was irretrievably absent, smitten by a disease that had crept up on her leaving in its wake a trail of mindless devastation. Thalia put her to bed and asked to have the evening off. So we have the meal to ourselves. I trust you’re hungry.

She wasn’t. Her appetite had fled. However, not wishing to be seen as absent herself, she made a show of accepting a bowl of soup. Luckily, one tentative mouthful was sufficient to reawaken her hunger. The soup was delicious. They ate in appreciative silence. It was only when cook had cleared away and they’d wished her good night that Ellie had a chance to ask the question that had been bothering her.

She opened her mouth to speak when Aanan startled her with a question of his own. Have you ever wondered what it’s like to travel to other worlds?

Talk about synchronicity! Ellie exclaimed. I’d just been asking myself about the difficulties of such travel. When he didn’t respond but instead waited eagerly, she went on, Reading the first page, I was wondering if all parallel universes were a clone of this one. Or if they differed so much, travelling to them would be life-threatening.

Theoretically… When he began like that, she knew to get comfortable, a lecture was about to begin. His answer surprised her. To be honest, I don’t know. There being infinite universes, it’s hard not to imagine ones radically different from ours.

Where his questioning was theoretical, hers was practical. How on earth would you chose which to visit? Just the prospect of an infinite choice was mind-boggling. Added to which she had nightmare visions of stepping into a world shroud in poisonous gas. Travelling could be suicidal. And your ‘in-between’, is it habitable? Or is it just an obligatory passage? Would the choice of worlds be visible from there?…

Hold your horses, he exclaimed, raising a hand to ward off the avalanche of questions.

How can I? she retorted, frustrated. I have as many questions as there are universes... She didn’t get any further as a violent crash from the back of the house rang out followed by a series of smaller percussions like a shelf-load of saucepans being flung across the kitchen one at a time. Ellie dashed to see what was going on, followed by Aanan limping as fast as he could.

The kitchen was in chaos. Chairs had been overturned. Saucepans and their lids lay scattered across the floor. And in the midst of the turmoil, unscathed but lost to the world, stood her grandmother surveying the scene, a frown creasing her brow. Aanan took his wife gently by the arm and led her away, both of them limping, as he kept up a steady flow of endearments.

Ellie had just righted the chairs and was about to return the saucepans to their shelves when Aanan appeared in the doorway visibly shaken. Her condition is getting worse, he said, bending to pick up a saucepan lid at his feet. He halted midway, a hand going instinctively to the small of his back, his lips parted in pain.

Let me do that, Ellie said, shifting a chair in his direction. Why don’t you sit down. You’ve had a shock.

We talk glibly of parallel worlds, he said, easing himself onto the chair. To think that in one of those worlds, possibly many, someone has the very remedy we need for Bubbe.

Ellie dismissed the idea as wishful thinking. No one, to the best of her knowledge, had even travelled between universes and certainly not brought back some new fangled medicine. There were so many ways such a harebrained scheme could go wrong.

2.

However, did you come up with the idea of the In-Between? Ellie asked, downing the last of her tea.

I knew there were multiple universes, Aanan replied, proffering the tea pot which Ellie declined. Physics had postulated such a possibility for quite a while. The popular notion was that these multiple universes lay on top of each other like layers of an onion without any significant space between.

But if that were so, why couldn’t people move freely between them?

I asked myself the same question. My first hypothesis was about time rather than space. What if multiple universes coexisted in the same space but in a different timeframe?

That seems a rather unsatisfactory explanation. Each universe already has its own timeframe.

True. To work it would require a different sort of time between the universes. That in turn led me to the idea of a different dimension. What if each of these universes existed at the same place, at the same time, but in an additional dimension that enabled them to coexist? You might call that dimension an index of possibility or change or improbability.

How am I supposed to get my head round that?

I agree. It gave me a headache too, he said, making a face. We tend to refer to the dimensions we know. But that index would correspond to neither physical distance nor span of time.

Space and time make sense. We experience them every day. What on earth would this new dimension correspond to?

As far as I can tell it simply exists so that distinct universes can coexist at the same time in the same space.

That’s a really lame excuse.

Aanan chuckled. Tell the Creator that. I’m sure he or she had her reasons. But seriously, I imagine it has other roles of which we are not aware.

How come we never see any indication of such a dimension, except in the minds of half-crazed scientists and over inquisitive schoolgirls?

He sketched a bow in recognition of his new-found role, but his expression remained sober. Yes. That troubled me too. The only explanation I’ve come up with is that being inside the dimension we cannot perceive it. I know, he continued before she could object, I’m sure you’d call that lame too.

If what you say is true, Ellie said, surprised at her disappointment, it would preclude any possibility of voyaging between universes.

Why so? Our senses might not be aware of it, but that’s no reason why we couldn’t work with it. He yawned twice in rapid succession. Enough adventures for one day. It may not be time for your bed, but it’s certainly past mine. See you on Sunday.

Her grandfather was not religious, but he generally kept quiet on Saturday and spent most of the time with his wife. Centuries’ old traditions perdured even when they no longer made sense. There would be no meals on Saturday, but Ellie had her own supplies. Back in her rooms, see pulled out her grandfather’s notebook and eased herself into a low-slung armchair.

Opening to the page she’d already read, she turned over to find the next page blank. For a brief moment, she wondered if her grandfather had meant her not to read the book on Saturday. But that would be absurd. He might be a little crazy, but he was no fanatic. A quick check indicated that alternate pages were indeed blank. Maybe he’d left room on the left-hand page for notes. Not that she’d dare write there. Unless she had some way of removing her scribblings.

Armed with a pencil, a sharpener and a giant eraser, she began reading. The second written page was filled with speculation about the nature of the In-Between. Aanan was inclined to believe it was empty, being subject to neither space nor time which he saw as exclusive properties of universes. Ellie had her doubts. Being outside space and time, life itself would be untenable? How could a heart work without time in which to beat? That would make the In-Between an impenetrable barrier to all living beings. As she re-read the page, she found herself disagreeing that travelling between the worlds was impossible. Confronted with such an obstacle, she was tempted to pick holes in her grandfather’s theory.

If, on the contrary, the In-Between didn’t hinder people travelling between worlds, then why did so few people do it? Could universes be surrounded by a protective layer, rather like the body was contained by skin? Such a boundary would hold in the universe and might well render communication between universes more difficult. It would also distinguish a universe from all others. Aanan’s notes made no mention of such an envelope.

Rubbing her thumb over the palm of her hand, she thought of the role skin played. Not only did it retain what was inside, but it also held that which was not itself outside, to a certain extent. In addition, it afforded some measure of communication between inside and outside. The thought gave her hope. Of course, comparing the universe to a body could be misleading. But doing so came with some fascinating possibilities. Her mind ran after a couple. Could universes collide, and what happened if they did? She quickly dismissed the idea. Surely if they didn’t exist in the same space, there was no way they could collide. And what about viruses? If a virus could insinuate its way into the body, was there something comparable with universes? The thought was so gruesome, she closed the book and strode the length of the loft in search of distraction.

Her telephone buzzed. Who could be calling at such an hour? It was Aline. Well, she’d wished for a distraction. You’re phoning late, she said, accepting the call.

Late? What planet do you live on? It’s nine o’clock on a Friday evening! Aline exclaimed. The time when all respectable girls our age are getting dolled up to go out.

If proof was needed, Aline’s words really did indicate they lived on different planets. On my planet, Ellie replied, people like me are preparing for bed. It wasn’t true, but she wanted to underline the contrast.

Is there room for me?

Where?

In your bed, silly.

I suppose we might just manage to squeeze you in if all the others agree.

How many? Aline asked, sounding positively rakish.

Seven, Ellie shot back. She chose seven because it was a magical number and suitably unlikely.

Wow! Aline said, the word almost a purr. I’ve never done it with so many.

Ellie knew full well the girl had never done it with anyone, apart from her and then only tentatively, but she would willingly have pursued the game when Aline abruptly swore. Blast. My parents have just arrived. They weren’t supposed to be back till Saturday evening. I should go.

I’ll give you a call when all seven of us are together again, Ellie teased.

Quit messing with me. I’d be more than satisfied if there was only you under the eiderdown waiting for me.

I tell you what, Ellie said, when I do go to bed, I promise to think only of you. If those pesky parallel universes didn’t get in the way.

I suppose that’ll have to do, till next time. As for me, I won’t just be thinking of you. I’ll be…

I can imagine, Ellie said, not wanting to be roller-coastered by graphic details. She knew from experience such thoughts could prevent her from sleeping. Goodnight, she said, and hung up.

After her stimulating exchange with Aline, she needed something to calm her. Had it not been night, she’d have gone for a walk. Pacing the loft was no substitute. Instead, she stepped out onto the tiny balcony that had been carved out of the sloping roof and put her eye to the telescope. A stiff breeze had chased away the clouds. With the moon still below the horizon, the myriad of stars was a breath-taking sight. For a long moment all else faded in the immensity of the universe and tears welled in her eyes. In the face of such a spectacle she felt both insignificant and omnipresent. To think, beings in millions of universes could be staring up at such an awe-inspiring scene, each one unique.

She shifted the telescope to focus on Orion and its nebula. That a celestial skin could contain so much was hard to believe, all the more so that the whole universe was apparently expanding at an ever increasing speed. With a shock, she realised the pressure might become too great, causing it to burst its ‘skin’. What would happen if it did? Or what if that envelope finally contained its expansion, forcing it to sink back on itself? She shivered. The night air was cold, but her thoughts were glacial. She had jokingly treated Aanan as crazy, but it would seem she was by far the crazier of the two.

Back inside, she pulled a blanket tight around her shoulders and curled up in an armchair thinking of Aline in a vain attempt to get warm. It was the middle of the night when she awoke, stiff and cold, with a vague recollection of having met a woman. The encounter had been significant, but, try as she would, she couldn’t recall who it was or why it seemed so crucial.

Unable to get to sleep, she recovered her grandfather’s notebook and, climbing into bed, turned to the third written page. Aanan had suggested she read a page a day, and technically, because midnight had come and gone, it already was the next day, so she plunged into the text only to resurface almost immediately, disappointed. Her own meanderings had already pushed back the limits much further than Aanan.

Clambering out of bed, she went in search of a pencil. She finally found one concealed under a book on the small table by her bedside. Back in bed, she began writing her own notes on the left-hand page. Under the title, A Skin, she added a subtitle, An Envelope to Contain a Universe. She halted there, staring at the remaining blank space. If she wrote everything she had in mind, she’d probably fill half the book. Adopting a style similar to her grandfather’s, she synthesised her thoughts in a number of pithy sentences, many of them questions. Her last one, having reached the bottom of the page read, How could a minuscule living being pass through a skin that retained whole galaxies and massive black holes?

For a while she was caught up in the pull of a black hole, wondering if it might be a breech in the celestial skin. If it was, the next question was: Where did all the matter go? Did it overflow into the In-Between? She shuddered at the thought of a giant drain sucking the life and light out of the worlds, clogging up the In-Between as it did. Surely that would render travelling between worlds impossible. She tried to shrug off the catastrophic imaginings that beset her. One thing was clear, a black hole was no suitable passage to the In-Between.

A glance at her phone told her it was almost dawn. She hauled herself wearily out of her bed and donned warm clothes. She’d go for a walk as soon as first light appeared. In the meantime, she was hungry. Breakfast it was then.

The breakfast things cleared away, she donned her coat and was about to leave when, as an after thought, she pocketed her grandfather’s notebook. Intuition warning her not to leave it lying around. Aanan had warned her unscrupulous people might try to steal it, although she had no idea how anyone would know of it’s existence.

3.

Excuse me miss. He appeared from nowhere, startling Ellie as he planted himself in front of her, a solid rock of a man. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts she hadn’t seen him coming. Not that there was any way she could have avoided him. You wouldn’t happen to know where Professor Bachman lives?

Being a naturally helpful person, she was on the point of indicating her house, when Aanan’s words of caution sprang to mind and she feigned ignorance. Come now, the man said, his words almost a sneer. I know you’re his granddaughter. So stop messing with me.

If you know who I am, then I imagine you know where I live, Ellie said, desperately trying to get a grip on her fear. So why do you bother asking?

Apparently his patience was limited. He made a lunge for her, a pair of meaty hands flung forward to grab her. She might have been distracted before, but now she was more alert than ever. She ducked, side-stepped and, pulling the canister of pepper spray from her pocket, squirted the entire contents in his face. He screamed. Not waiting to see if her efforts had sufficed, she turned and ran, straight into the waiting arms of a second man.

With her arms clamped by her sides, any remaining spray was of no use. Instead she drew back her foot and kicked the man as hard as she could in the shins. He bellowed in pain, but didn’t let go. Guessing he couldn’t put much weight on one leg, she leaned with all her force in that direction and the man toppled, dragging her down with him. It didn’t help. The stubborn creature refused to relinquish his hold although his grip was no longer so vice-like.

She couldn’t knee him in the groin, which would have been her next move, as she had her back to him. Rather than struggle to escape - she probably wouldn’t have succeeded - she jabbed her foot blindly backwards hoping to connect with his damaged shin. She missed. Unfortunately, her efforts rolled her over with him coming out on top. The air rushed her lungs as his weight bore down on her. As for breathing, it was hard with her face shoved into the gravel of the path. She ceased all movement and let herself go limp. She wasn’t going to win this battle.

Enough! a stern female voice commanded.

Ellie didn’t expect the man to let go, but to her surprise he rolled over and struggled to his feet. This don’t concern you, he warned, hobbling pathetically on one foot. His colleague was no better off. He clawed frantically at his face, as if that could rid him of the pepper spray.

Do you think I’m going to stand by and let you molest this girl? the woman asked, her tone leaving no doubt about the answer. Now Ellie could see her, the woman looked very old, although she had none of the stoop or trembling hands of her grandmother. In fact, she looked remarkably fit. It was not just the discrepancy between age and fitness that troubled Ellie. The woman looked strangely familiar, although she couldn’t recall when they might have met. Now get on your way, the woman said, helping Ellie to her feet. Before I inflict far more damage than this girl has already done.

The woman’s words had Ellie imagining all manner of gruesome punishments. Apparently the men took her threat seriously, because they turned and hobbled away without a word.

You need to be more careful, the woman said as Ellie open her mouth to thank her. She didn’t get a chance. The woman turned and strode away. Ellie called after her, but the woman had already disappeared, swallowed up amongst the trees that lined the path. Ellie stood there flabbergasted, her face stinging from its encounter with the gravel, her lungs still heaving from the fight. Had that really happened? It was more like a dream. A dream! Yes. That was were she’d met the woman. She was the elusive figure from Ellie’s dream.

The damage to her face was not as bad as the stinging made her believe. A little disinfectant and some healing ointment and all would be fine. Unfortunately, there was no balm to calm her shaky nerves. Who were those men? And who was that woman? She would’ve asked her grandfather, but today was not the day to bother him. She toyed with the idea of phoning Aline. But, had the girl been out half of the night partying, now was probably not the best time. And anyway, the attack was not the sort of thing she’d discuss with her. In fact, they talked very little. Ellie would have preferred to confide in someone, but there was no one. As for staying alone in her flat, it was not an appealing option.

The café had seemed a good idea. Surrounded by people, she felt safer and, just for good measure, she’d brought along a new canister of pepper spray. She’d completely emptied the last one in her desperate attempt to fend off her attackers. She set her mug of herbal tea down and squeezed onto the bench behind the table. It was mid-morning and the place was busy, but she’d chosen a table close to the emergency exit.

She desperately wanted to continue reading her grandfather’s book, but she dared not pull it out in such a public place. Someone might be spying on her. As she sipped her tea, she wondered why the men had grabbed her. If her grandfather was right, why were they after the notebook? What use could it be to them? The answer was obvious. If they found a way to travel to other worlds, they could plunder them, just like they’d plundered this one. The damage would be incalculable.

The prospect was so horrific, she was tempted to destroy the notebook. But, her grandfather had entrusted it to her. It was his life’s work and she was bound to keep it safe. Anyway, the thugs wouldn’t get very far, even if they did snatch