Chapter 3 – 'The Place that doesn't Exist'
IN THE end, Jacqui did get some sleep, but she woke early in the small hours, her mind still in a turmoil. What was this elusive password? She hated being faced with a puzzle that she couldn't solve. After a while she crept out of bed, wrapped herself in a dressing gown, and went to turn on the infuriating laptop.
Was 'There is no key' in fact the password itself? She tried typing in the phrase itself, both capitalised and in lower case: no result. She tried various paraphrases like 'The key is not there', 'The key is lost', 'The key was never made', 'The key cannot be found', 'The key doesn't—'
"Paul!" she shrieked at the top of her voice. "Paul! I think I've got it!" Paul appeared, also in his dressing gown and slippers, looking very drowsy. "Paul! 'The key doesn't exist'. The place that doesn't exist. The place Grandad kept on hinting to me about, but whenever I asked him where it was, he simply replied 'it isn't'. 'Midwich'! That's got to be it!"
She typed in the word, beginning with a capital M. Bingo! A compressed file folder appeared, full of numerous text documents. One of them, prominent at the head of the list, was named To Jacqueline – read this . Jacqui instantly clicked on the file. The first thing that popped up was a scanned-in photo, of a smiling Grandad and Grandma sitting side by side, with a very young Jacqui sitting on Grandad's knee. Jacqui couldn't help shedding a tear or two as she saw this.
The message was on the second page.
"My dearest Jacqueline.
"If you're reading this, two things must have happened. One: I must have passed on: to be honest I shall welcome that, my recent life has been so difficult and Janet has had to help with the typing. Two: you must have guessed the significance of 'Midwich' in the period of my life that I've never divulged to you—nor to your mother. Yes, there was a place called 'Midwich' and it was important. I explain all that I know in the other files on this computer—but you won't be able to read them all at once. It's up to you to find out more—I know you're the person to do it!
"With all my love,
"Grandad."
"Hmmm..." muttered Paul. "I suppose you'll be wanting to read through all the other files on the drive. I wish you luck. As for me, I'm going back to bed. Probably some rambling, half-baked Sci-fi plot of your Grandad's, that he wanted you to work on..."
"Well, I'm going to read through them at any rate," retorted Jacqui. "I'll take a day off work—call in sick or something. I've got to get to the bottom of this. Sleep tight, my dear!"
At that, Paul shuffled off.
The files were sequentially numbered, and Jacqui thought it best to start with the first one, which was titled 'Dayout'. Odd, that: maybe it was a mistyping of 'Day Out'—or possibly Grandad had created it on an even older machine that didn't allow spaces in file names.
Jacqui started reading. Grandad began with a short introduction, stating that Janet and he had indeed lived in a village called Midwich, for two or three years, immediately before they settled in Canada. So there really was such a place, and Grandad had actually lived there! So what was the mystery? Jacqui read on.
"It was my birthday," Grandad wrote, "and we spent the day in London." So that explained 'Day Out'. Of course, simply that they had spent a 'day out' in London. But what was so special about a day in London, enjoying some entertainment but with nothing unusual happening? Grandad continued by relating that, after spending the night in a hotel, they had set out for home early the next morning, stopping in Trayne ("our nearest market town") for some shopping.
Jacqui paused. Well, this was a start: another place-name to check out. Did it also not exist? Reading a bit further on, she noticed the words 'Stouch' and 'Oppley'. She picked up her smartphone and launched the mapping app. Sure enough, Trayne was there, and a mile or two to the west of it Stouch, and Oppley a few miles further west. They were real places. But no sign of any 'Midwich'.
Grandad had helpfully provided a sketch-map in the file: this showed Trayne, Stouch and Oppley clearly enough, with Midwich about four miles northwest of Stouch and a similar distance northeast of Oppley. The three villages formed a neat triangle. But when she looked on her phone, there was nothing shown where Midwich ought to be. She tried switching to the satellite view, but all she got was a blur.
Perhaps Midwich was a secret military establishment—like 'Area 51', reputedly?
She read on. Certainly, in Grandad's day, there had been a road leading from Stouch to Midwich which they had tried to turn into—but a policeman had stopped them. So they parked the car and tried to walk it, cutting across fields.
Next thing that happened was that they both fainted. Completely blacked out.
The rest of the file explained that some mysterious force had rendered the entire village—all its people and animals—completely unconscious. This effect lasted for a little over a day, and was later referred to as the 'Dayout'. At the same time, aerial surveillance had spotted a mysterious object—a 'flying saucer' or 'UFO' Grandad described it—apparently landed close by the village. But when the village recovered from its trance, the object had disappeared.
No wonder Grandad had been secretive about Midwich. If this account was true! It looked suspiciously like a plot for another weird Sci-fi novel that Grandad had never got around to writing.
Jacqui clicked on the file numbered '2' in the series, but to her dismay it asked for a password again. Encryption within encryption!—what had Grandad been up to? Wearily she typed in 'Midwich' as before, but no!—this time a different password was evidently needed.
Ah well. This was as much as Jacqui could take in. She was getting tired, so she crept back into bed and snuggled up against Paul, and was soon fast asleep.
When she awoke, Paul was up and about, and breakfast was already on the table. Jacqui glanced at the clock and quickly washed and dressed. Over breakfast Paul asked her, somewhat disdainfully, what else she'd discovered about 'Midwich' in her nocturnal investigations.
"Well, according to Grandad, Midwich is, or was, a real place, a village out west near Trayne—and Grandad and Grandma actually lived there for a few years. Trayne really does exist: I looked it up and it's a town about two or three hours' drive west of here. Grandad also drew a map showing where Midwich is supposed to be. But when I try to zoom in on there, I just get a blur.
"And something really weird did happen in Midwich seventy years ago, if Grandad is to be believed. The entire population just fell unconscious, for a day, then woke up the following day with no after-effects. And a UFO landed near the village, then disappeared—"
"UFO? You're not going to tell me this is not one of your Grandad's Sci-fi plots, are you?"
"Well, if it is, why was Grandad so secretive? And I can't get into any of the following files: they need a different password and I've no idea what it could be. I'm going to take today off and drive out to Trayne and beyond: seems the best option to find out more."
"Well, all I can say is, good luck, my dear," retorted Paul. "And be careful: if that area is blurred n the Maps app, it's probably intentional. It might be a secret military installation or something of the kind. Like Imber. Don't try to force your way in and get yourself shot. And careful with the camera!" With that Paul set off for work, leaving Jacqui to get ready all she'd need for her investigative trip.
Luckily the weather was fine as she set out, in marked contrast to the wretched rain at the funeral a few days before.
Trayne, when she reached it, was somewhat changed from the town described by Richard seventy years earlier. The main road now by-passed the town, which was largely pedestrianised, with all the usual 'clone' shops and cafes that one might encounter in any medium-sized rural market town. Jacqui parked in the town nevertheless and explored for a while, turning up nothing of interest. She noted that the pub Grandad had mentioned, called the 'Eagle', was still there—maybe the place for lunch later on, she thought. So she returned to her car and drove on.
Stouch, like Trayne, was by-passed by the main road, but she turned off into the village and parked once more. She noted that the main street ran east-west through the village, and was presumably the main road at the time when Grandad had driven along it all those years ago. She walked along the street to the west—and about a hundred yards beyond the last house, little more than a cottage, she came to an impressive-looking wire fence topped with razor-wire, just beyond the right-hand verge. There was a red notice board with white lettering proclaiming THIS IS A PROHIBITED PLACE WITHIN THE MEANING OF THE OFFICIAL SECRETS ACT 1911-1939 – No Entry Unless Authorised.
So Paul had guessed right—this was some sort of secret or military establishment.
Jacqui walked along beside the fence for over a mile, but it continued without interruption: no sign of any gate or other means of entrance. Then the lane veered to the left away from the fence, presumably to re-join the main road. Straight on, alongside the fence, there was just a muddy track. Should she explore further? But she'd left her walking boots in the car. Wearily she retraced her steps.
Just as she was passing the cottage on the left once more, after leaving the fence behind, an elderly lady, white-haired and leaning on a stick, emerged and hailed her.
"I saw you pass this way earlier, my dear," she began. "And you seemed interested in the fence. Are you trying to find out about Midwich?"