As I’ve said, he’s a sensitive, thoughtful and smart young man and I love him with all my heart, so I got dressed and ran to his car through the drizzle when he arrived.
“I wish da had your good taste - poor mums has been dying to refurnish our home but he refuses, insisting he is comfortable.”
“He’s the lord of the manor and all of that stuff and has to be obeyed?”
He laughed. “Something like that.”
“I sincerely hope you will not end up being ‘something like that’ also.” I poked him in his side, as if about to tickle him and he squirmed. I laughed, “You’re a manipulative monster, you told me in the hope I’d convince your da to give Sandi a free hand.”
He grinned back at me, “You see? You are of some use after all.” I chased him around the room to tickle him and we finally collapsed on sofas, laughing like two naughty children.
Sandi was not too happy that her baby boy was moving out, but she became caught up in his excitement so only mildly told me off for inspiring him to lead a life of debauchery. A few days later she phoned me at the office to ask if I’d heard from Pol. I told her I had not. Late that afternoon she called again and I heard her worry. I promised to check at his apartment and closed the phone, asked and was told he has not been to work and felt my hands go clammy with cold sweat.
“Edti, you better come with. While I put on my coat, please ask my secretary to come in.” She’s been with me for over ten years so I dared confide in her what I wanted her to do. She was nervous at having to play such an odd role, but she did not object. We met Edti and went to the apartment. When he did not answer the door I extended my senses to feel for his presence. Nothing.
Amanda, my secretary, stayed at my side as we called on all the occupants of the building. I explained that my nephew is missing and that I have brought a clairvoyant to try and sense where he is, but that the presence of others in the building is making it impossible for her to sense him, could they please come outside for fifteen minutes. Only one man refused, the others sympathetic to our worry left the building.
Amanda and I went from the basement to the roof, I even checked in the lift shaft, but I could not sense Pol. We thanked the people and drove to Edti’s home after dropping off Amanda.
“I better go home in case he phones me. Call me if you hear from him.”
We spent an anxious night, phoning each other often. At seven in the morning I made myself a coffee and sat by the east window to watch the sun creating and uncreating its moving shadows of roofs and chimney pots as it rose into the sky. My eye fell on the newspaper of five days ago, idly noting the article about our joint venture with the Russian government, when I sat up with a start, fear pounding through me. Quickly I washed and dressed and left for the office.
At ten o’clock we received the expected phone call. They asked for Edti and I kept my ear close to his so as to hear their demands. They wanted a million pounds in cash by four that afternoon. I nodded to Edti and he confirmed we’d have the money ready. Thank goodness they do not have the same banking laws in this reality, though it would not have stopped me. We drew the cash and waited. When they called I answered.
“This is his aunt. We have the cash, so tell me how you want to arrange the exchange. I will come with the money on my own. We have not called the police and want to keep this quiet, so there is nothing for you to fear.”
They told me where to deposit the money and ordered me to leave immediately. If the cash is as demanded and not marked, they will release Pol.
I hugged Edti. “I have to go, I’m his only chance.”
“If they see you following them they’ll kill him.”
“They won’t see me. Edti, who else would you trust? Surely you’re not willing to depend on their good will?”
“No, you better go. I’m frightened for him Jina.”
“So am I.” Robert, I silently vowed that if they harmed my Pol, I would kill them, even if it meant I was judged by the Cherinians and punished by the loss of my link.
I first returned home, quickly changed into dark clothes I could fight in and wearing a brightly coloured coat with six thin but strong ropes tied to my belt I drove out to the drop off point. I left the bag exactly where I was instructed to leave it and walked off without looking back. I drove a couple of blocks and then ran back in my soft takkies without my coat now, hiding within a derelict building that had a window overlooking the bag. A few minutes later a man collected the bag, gave a thumbs up and walked away. I waited for the person in hiding to leave, straining my senses to feel him. As he left his hiding place I followed, staying as far from him as I could while still able to sense him. I had to close the gap as he came to a more heavily populated area, but he did not look back often and probably would not have recognised me if he did see me.
He entered an old building and I strained to sense Pol. His mind, or should I say, the signature of his emoting, is so familiar that I was certain I would sense him if he was anywhere within the building ahead of me. I drew a blank and only sensed four men in the ground floor flat and a family upstairs. I drew close to the door the man had passed through to gauge the possibility of my breaking through. I decided I could not smash through. I searched and found a window at the side of the building that was just fractionally open. As I felt the men rejoicing at the sight of the cash I climbed in and inched my way to the door. I heard voices and stood still to listen.
“Get rid of him Frank and meet us where we agreed.”
“I’m not leaving without my share.” There was an argument and then they split off his share. As they were concentrating on that I inched the door open until I could place each of them. I rushed in as they turned, slammed the palms of my hands against the ears of one man, kicked another and swirled, sank to my haunches and shooting up I kicked and hit. Within seconds all of them were on the ground, except for the one I’d identified as Frank, he was screaming from the agony of burst eardrums. I grabbed a gun and stood back. I ordered one of them to tie the others with the ropes I threw at him. He hesitated so I aimed at the leg of one of the other men and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot within an enclosed area deafened me.
“Either you tie them or I shoot each of them and you so that you cannot cause me trouble.” He quickly knelt to tie them. I then made him lie face down with arms stretched out and checked the ropes and knots. Satisfied I went to him and ordered him to place his hands behind his back and tied them.
“This is what will happen. You will lead me to my nephew. If he is alive and unharmed, I’ll release you. You will then be free to return to your friends to release them and share your money. If any of you try anything like this again, I’ll come after you, but I will not be so soft next time - I’ll kill you. As you might have noticed, I am trained and could have killed all of you just as easily as I knocked you down, so don’t even think of testing me. Get to your feet.”
Two blocks further we entered an alley and walked to a metal door. He opened it and led me down the stairs to where Pol was lying tied up, on cold concrete. I removed his blindfold and he blinked.
“You did not like the apartment I found for you? I can’t say I approve of your new living space.” He gave me a weak grin.
“I desperately need to use a toilet.”
“Hold on a few minutes - I have no intention of changing you if you soil yourself.”
“Don’t make me laugh, I’ll wet myself.”
In the street once more I untied the kidnappers’ hands. “Take Frank to a hospital, I burst his eardrums and he’ll be in agony. He was the one about to kill my nephew so he’s been punished. The rest of you are getting off easy so count yourselves lucky and disappear from my sight as quickly as you can.” I held Pol to me so that he would not stagger and we returned to my car. I dropped him off at his mums and went for a shower and change of clothing.
“This was a lesson we all needed to learn. We have to be very careful, especially of our two little girls. It will not be pleasant having bodyguards by your sides all the time, but I want them for the children. We are in the news too often and we will be targets if we do not take precautions.”
“You expect us to live the rest of our lives as if we are under siege?”
“If we were in America, things would be worse, count yourselves lucky that there is less violent crime here. This lifestyle comes with being fabulously wealthy.”
“Why did you leave the money with them?”
“I don’t want them coming after us for revenge. They would not have just wanted money next time. Anyway, at the time, my mind was on Pol, not on getting back the money.”
Forty one years. My body age is fifty! I never imagined myself getting this old. It is flattering that I still have relatively young suitors, though they are few and far in between as everyone calls me the ice queen or the ice bitch. A few years back, Pol got into a fight when someone made such a comment before him.
It is time I go to Athens as I’d planned, Edti and Jakob can take care of business. I asked Pol whether he’d like to come with me. I pointed out to him that it will not be a holiday, he will have to help me put together deals. Since his Greek is good enough for him to understand any negotiations, he is the perfect choice. Before leaving I went through all my family, healing them, even if I’d just healed them.
As the plane floated over Athens, I pointed out to Pol the sights of antiquity he will see later from close up. The sight was also a revelation for me. Knowing something intellectually is never the same as actually seeing the differences with your own eyes. I was shocked at how small Athens is. The small airport in Glyfada looks to be in good condition and as we entered it, Pol was amazed at how noisy the Greeks are. We took a battered taxi into Athens and I talked to him in Greek so that he does not try to cheat us.
We had booked at the Grande Britagne Hotel next to Syntagma Square. Pol stood on the balcony staring at the efzons in their white kilts as they marched up and down before the tomb of the unknown soldier. He was also fascinated by the crowds who even from the second floor could be heard above the sounds of traffic. He muttered that the air smelt different and I smiled as I unpacked my clothes.
“Wait until you enter a bus packed with them. You’ll faint from the smell of garlic.”
“Are you alright?”
I sat on the bed. “No, I’m not. God but I miss them. There is nothing worse than losing people you love, especially your family. If I could only see even Alki it would help.”
“Can’t you find him?”
“What would be the point? At best he’d not be much more than a child. He would not yet be the grizzly bear I love.”
“Have you really given up on Robert and Cherine existing here - even if Alki does?”
“I cannot find his father Wilfred. I found an Eric Blake but no Marian. I don’t know her maiden name.”
“It will be sad if Cherine is born without a Robert.”
“I’d be happy, she should be able to link me for me to send Vincent’s sliver - we can always find her a Robert from another reality. Anyway, now is not the time to get depressed, I have Athens to show you.” I laughed. “It’s going to be quite an experience for me also, it’s still primitive compared to the Athens I know. I find it shocking how different everything is.” My words were quickly proven when we saw someone delivering blocks of ice to apartments. We’ve been used to having refrigerators for so long now, it seemed weird to us, like stepping back in history. We walked the roads rising steeply on the sides of Lykavittos, which is in the centre of the city, with apartments and some small and old houses to either side, amused that there are still dirt roads, though they do have concrete slab paving.
Having used my healer on Pol since he was born, he has almost the same endurance as I do and is slightly faster in his reactions than most Normals. He needed all his agility to avoid bumping into people on the pavement and from being knocked into the street and being hit by a car. We walked down a street filled with shops selling materials for clothing and curtains, when Pol called out. A little girl of about five had let go her mothers hand and tried to run across the street. A car hit her, she fell down and the tyres bumped their way over her tiny body. There was no way she could be alive, but I smashed people out of my way and threw myself to the tar, covering part of her bloodied and broken body with mine. I could sense her mind dimming and I screamed within my mind at my healer as I desperately tried to hold on to her soul. I heard Pol shouting from above me, ‘Stamateiste, xheri ti kanei’ (Stop, she knows what she is doing). They must have thought I was a doctor and since they thought she was dead, nobody interfered, only her mother throwing herself at her daughter to take her into her arms. My healer reacted by giving her a shock so that she pulled back. I ignored everything, staring into the tiny face, willing it to stay alive. Pol told me afterwards that people clambered over the car, smashing their fists at the windows in an effort to get at the driver. If they’d got to him they would have killed him without it being his fault.
I cried out with joy when I saw her lips twitch and her nostrils faintly moved as she took a faint breath. An old women cried out, ‘Einai magissa, tin efere piso’ (She is a witch, she has brought her back). The crowd muttered, but nobody dared interfere and they even stopped the police from pulling me away.
All traffic was diverted for over an hour while a ring of people crowded around us watched, muttering to each other with awe when the little girl opened her eyes. Her mother reached for her, but Pol stopped her. When the little girl cried and tried to reach for her mother, her mother ordered her not to move, but she caressed her cheek while tears poured down her face.
When I sensed my healer was finished I let go and tried to come to my feet. Pol helped pull me up and I leant against him, everything spinning around me. Dumbly I watched as the mother took her bloodied daughter in her arms and searched for wounds. Of course there were none and I knew what to expect when they realised, so I softly asked Pol to get us out of there. The crowd would not make way for us and a policeman planted himself firmly before me.
Softly I asked him, “Can’t you let me go, forget you saw me?”
“No, you must come to the station.”
Urgently I spoke to Pol in English, “Go to the hotel, you must not stay.” I saw his mutinous face. “That’s an order Pol.” I saw the stubborn look settle in his eyes as he refused to listen and stuck next to me. A police car arrived and we were bundled into it.
I could not understand why they were being so aggressive and hostile until I sensed their emoting and realised they were afraid of me. Unfortunately they had separated Pol from me and they were not as afraid of him. When he repeated he had nothing to tell them apart from what he’d already related, they started to beat him.
I screamed out, “Stop it, he knows nothing, I healed the child, not him.”
It was a long time before they allowed a phone call to the British consulate. When they heard my name, the ambassador himself arrived with an official from the Greek Ministry of Justice. I told him about the beatings and told him I’d confessed to everything to stop them. The official was furious with the officers and as we were guarded to the ambassador’s car we could hear him shouting at them. We were taken to the ambassador’s home and shown to bedrooms to freshen up.
Pol was in shock, but also trembling from affronted anger. I went to his room and held him tightly to me until his trembling ceased while my healer rid him of his pain. I pulled at his face, “When are you going to learn to listen to me?”
“Under such circumstances? Never. How can you imagine I would abandon you to those savages.”
“Pol, they are good men, they were terrified. At this time, in this country, they still fear magic.”
His eyes widened. “Gosh! You brought her back to life.”
“No, I cannot do that here, I only held on to her.” I shuddered. “I was certain I would lose her. Can you imagine what the crowd would have done to us if she’d died? If there is a next time, stay apart from me.”
Our clothes were brought from the hotel and after I insisted, we moved into the Pendeli Hotel in Kefalari. Not as comfortable, but I was happy to be out of the centre of Athens and at the one place in this world I can feel close to my family.
I could not sit in the hotel, I needed to take a walk around the square. As we walked through the park and I saw the church ahead I saw lights to my left and cried out, grabbing hold of Pol’s biceps. The Eidelweiss exists and it was open. I grinned up into his face. “You are going to have a Baked Alaska.”
He grinned at my childish excitement, “What is it?”
“Ice cream, but ice cream as you’ve never had before.”
He deliberately misunderstood so as to tease me, “Gosh! It must be special for you to be so excited.”
I’ve never been an aficionado of Baked Alaska, not enjoying the taste of the alcohol in the sponge cake, but this time I ate it all. I even drank one of those horrible Greek coffees Robert loves. I was flying high and in the back of my mind I knew I would fall to the other extreme once I was back in my room and cry the whole night. It did not matter, I could almost imagine my family sitting all around me. It was fitting that from all who I love in this world, that I was sharing this special moment with Pol.
The next morning we came out of the hotel, turned right and walked away from the square as I wanted to show Pol where the most expensive houses in Athens will be built someday. After the last house, we could see empty land and a dry river bed between us and the mountain. I explained about the marble from Pendeli, the best in Greece and only rivalled by some in Italy. As we talked and I pointed out where this or that would be, it struck me, why not buy as much of that land as I can? When I told Pol he hardly managed to tell me he’d been wondering when I’d make the decision, between his laughter.
I do not mind paying a bit extra, but I do not want to pay three times whatever the land is worth. As a foreigner they are bound to cheat me. Alki is only about fifteen years old, Elia about eighteen to twenty. I can’t think of anyone older than them I’d trust. Dimitri is old enough, but I would not have a clue where to find him. I decided I’ll have to fall back on my senses.
I did not speak to anyone about the land and concentrated on showing Pol more of Kifissia and Kefalari. The stories I’d told him came to life as he saw specific buildings or streets I’d mentioned. “In a way, all of Athens and these suburbs are a bit better off, as is all of Greece, for they were never occupied by the Germans. However, they are worse off as more Greeks from Turkey emigrated to Germany with the result that this country has been deprived of the culture, money and factories they built in my reality.”
“But that means the Greeks are more Greek, never having changed from what they were.”
I was amused by the way logic sometimes leads us astray when we don’t have all the facts. “I think most educated Greeks would not consider that an advantage. Remember, they spent four hundred years under the Turks, absorbing much of their culture and attitude towards life while losing what they should have inherited from their ancestors. It is strange but true that the Greeks in Turkey and Egypt kept more of their traditions because they were not under the same pressures. I think we’ll also find it more difficult to find honest Greeks.”
“I say, you can’t be right! Surely honesty depends on the character of the person?”
“Not really, it depends just as much on the culture they grow up in. Do you see that shop on the corner? That is where Robert buys his artist materials. Here it is a general store with merchandise most shops in London would throw into the rubbish bin. That building there has been pulled down and replaced with a shopping complex.” When we sat he was hungry for more stories and so he fed the nostalgia trip I was on.
Early this morning we walked the land I wanted when we spied a shepherd with his flock. The dogs were not aggressive and only sniffed us. I spoke respectfully, calling him grandfather, and we talked about the land. He told me the owner of a large part of it is selling it for forty thousand English gold pounds. I converted that to sterling pounds and decided it is a good price.
“What about the land on the side of the mountain?” I pointed.
He scratched his head and then his unshaved chin. “I think most of that belongs to the government.”
The ambassador was kind enough to make enquiries and suggested an attorney who is considered one of the best in Athens - which to me implied he was not honest. I took what was offered and we sat poring over maps as I outlined the land I wanted to buy. He returned with prices and I haggled until I sensed he was going to balk and made my firm offer in writing, specifying that was the total price. He came back with additional costs that he said the buyer always bears. We haggled. In the end I estimate I paid about thirty percent above the present value. So, a few extra people made money, but my alter family will make a killing as the city expands and people want houses in that area. I had plans drawn up, ordered bulldozers to clear the land where roads would be and left a large central area as a park. I placed beautiful metal fencing with scrolling and decorative tips (while prices are still affordable), designed the layout and had trees planted and built three gazebos and an imitation of an ancient open air theatre with rooms for changing and equipment. All that beauty and expense for the purpose of planting the trees in the shapes ‘S>G’. If Samantha does not notice the symbolism, either Robert or Claudia will. The boulevard that travels around the park I named ‘Boulevard Dominique’ and had it tarred. Everything was registered properly and accepted by the authorities before I relaxed and stopped flying to and fro.
I’m back in Athens again. I worked with an architect and had a house that exactly resembles our Athens home designed. The architects were intrigued by the main bedroom, but I refused to explain. They are submitting the plans for approval and the house will be built on a choice piece of our land with lots of space for a big garden, tennis court and swimming pool. I planted non-fir trees all around and had fig trees, mulberries, cherries, lemon trees, pomegranates and tangerines planted in what will our orchard. I opened an office in Kifissia and employed a secretary to keep it open for builders, gardeners and so on to be paid and coerced into doing their jobs. The secretary is a forty year old women whose bark is just as vicious as her bite. With the salary I’m paying her, she is determined not to give me any reason for firing her.
Forty two years. As I’d foreseen, Pol has fallen in love and I rarely see him now - mostly only at work. At the office he is serious and hard working, determined to learn the business and also prove he does not only hold his position because of being Edti’s son and my nephew. I cannot fault him for that, but I miss him so much. Jakob has realised and visits or invites me out for a meal or theatre more often, but there is an emptiness in me most of the time.
Nearly the end of another year. This one has dragged on for too long, I’ll be glad to see it pass.
Forty three years. I must find something to fill my empty hours. Amelia and Jini are not little girls anymore and they have lots of friends, so I do not get to spend that much time with them. At least I still see everyone every Friday night, but now Pol brings his girl with. Her name is Abigail. He calls her Abi-love and she pulls a face every time.
I’ve taken time off and am staying in Kefalari, ostensibly to do business and keep an eye on the builders (we caught them not using the correct ratio of cement to sand). I spend hours sitting at the Eidelweiss with a book on my lap, staring into my mind and filling my heart with moments from my Cherinian life. It all seems so long ago. I am convinced Robert will not love me anymore, for the spirit he loves in us has aged and withered. Is there any point to carrying on?
I stirred myself after writing the above - I hate it when I pity myself. I marked the roads I know will become the busiest thoroughfares, bought land, secured permits for sixteen petrol stations in Athens and the suburbs and two on what will be the highway from Athens to Salonica and two outside of Piraeus on the road going to the Corinth. It took some hard negotiations, some financial greasing and I gave a ten percent share to a Minister and secured a permit for the land and permission for a jetty for tankers to deliver crude oil to our refinery. I undertook to supply the other Greek petroleum company that has petrol stations with twenty percent of our production at market price.
I had detectives search for Alki. They found him in his village. I drove there, but could not stay overnight in a hotel, as there were none close by. I persuaded a woman to put me up for a few nights for a fee that brought huge smiles to her face when she told her neighbours. I met Alki, a young teenage boy, and talked to him, trying to inspire him and fill him with dreams of going to Athens to make a fortune. We also talked about other things and I’m pleased, he has the same quick and strong mind and personality ours has. I’ll have to see to it that he has a secret helping hand when he does go to Athens as a young man.
Seeing and talking with Alki, though he is too young to remind me much of my pappou, has taken its toll on me. The woman I stay with must have sharp ears for she told everyone I cry many nights, so they’ve decided I’ve suffered some personal tragedy, the current story being I’ve lost my husband and children in an accident. It has made everyone solicitous of me and even Alki makes time in his young life to talk with me or go for long walks, determined not to let me sink into silence and my thoughts. I better leave.
Forty four years. I’ve reached the point where I’m actually eager for Pol and Abigail to marry so that they have a child. I see now that I’m only able to give my heart in a way that gives some meaning to my existence here if I have a child to love. Adults need to have a life of their own and it is only children who are open to sharing theirs with an adult who loves them. If things had been different in our reality and it had been I with fifty husbands happy to share me, would I have taken another husband here? I suppose so. Just thinking that gave me a funny feeling - I don’t mean sexual, more of the kind that showed me how deeply ingrained is my dislike of having more than one man as my companion or lover in my life.
I was attacked in the media by a pro-green group, claiming that I am a hypocrite. They seemed affronted by the fact that I preach now and then about the ills of pollution yet I am a major shareholder of seventeen ships that pollute the sea and thirteen mining operations that rape and pillage mother Earth. I was advised not to reply directly and gave my arguments to our PR department. They answered that trade and commerce are necessities, but I show my concern in practical terms, for instance, by maintaining our ships at high costs to us at far above industry norm, specifically to minimise possibilities or incidents of pollution and that, as far as our mining operations go, we are one of few mining groups that rehabilitate the land, even though it is not a legal requirement or condition of the permit at this time.
Pol and Abigail have broken up. He sat with me last night, feeling sorry for himself and railing against her. I curtly warned him that he was dropping in my esteem by criticising her instead of examining his own faults and trying to apportion a share of the blame on himself. I was being unduly harsh and he too felt so, for he left.
A house was put up for sale where the front windows face Green Park. I bought it and put up my house for sale. Now at least, when I’m being moody and stare for hours out the window, I won’t be staring at windows and walls.
Pol slammed into my office today and chased my secretary out. He raged for half an hour and I did not have the heart to blame him. He had just found out that the reason Abigail left him was because she is pregnant with the child of another man. He is not only hurt, but also filled with bitterness. I too feel betrayed, for I had liked her and thought she might be a stabilising influence on him when he is too much of a dreamer.
Oh God, how complicated life becomes! We’ve just found out the truth. Abigail went to a party without Pol, but with his agreement because a friend of hers from schooldays was holding it. There she was raped by one of the drunken guests. That was why she’d turned cold and withdrawn. I’ve had to spend these last two days concentrating on calming down Pol, as he wanted to go out and murder the man. I pleaded with him to consider Abigail and how miserable she must be feeling, knowing that not only was she raped and not only has she lost her love, but that society will blame her and snigger every time they see her with her child. I asked him to visit her and become her strength, whether he decides to bring her back into his life as his love or not.
Pol brought Abigail to our Friday gathering at my house and announced they are getting married.
I visited Abigail without Pol knowing. I used all the words I’ve ever read about how she should not blame herself, that she is the victim and that she must go for therapy so that she lances the guilt, anger, bitterness and hate that fill her mind. I must have found some good words for she wept in my arms. I made her wash her face with cold water and sat opposite her.
“Do you trust me Abigail?”
“Of course. In what way?”
“That I’ve only come here with love and concern for both you and Pol.”
“Yes.”
“Then I ask that you not only trust me, but also try to understand. Sweetheart, before you two marry, I must take Pol away for a short period. It is important that he not only love you, he must also love the child. If he hates the child, he’ll end up hating you and himself. I must find a way to force him to take a good look at his motivations and love for you, but also at the hate and anger that he’s trying to bury because he loves you.” Once she’d agreed, I got down to more prosaic and practical matters, like her wedding dress, where they would go on honeymoon and so on.
Now I’m faced with a problem I do not know how to handle. How do I do all I promised her? I have no idea how to go about it. I wish Themi were here to advise me, an invisible ghost by my side prompting me to say and do the right things. I’m so frightened I’ll mess up things for both of them. I’d rather go fight another De Beers or those stupid government ministers.
Pol was puzzled at my insistence that he join me on an unnecessary trip to Rome and at Abigail’s support of my wishes. He knows me too well and realised it was a conspiracy and gave in without grace, muttering that I think I can run his life as if he were still a child.
For the first few days I acted as if we truly were in Rome for the purpose of sightseeing. Then I led him down the street Robert had walked, showed him where the blonde child prostitute had accosted him and we walked the roads he had until we reached the entrance to her dingy apartment. We wondered whether that poor child would be born in this reality and have to face the same future as her alternate. I asked him whether, knowing her likely bleak future, he thought we have a right to interfere when she is born and buy her a happier life. He asked what I meant.
“I meant what I said. I’m certain her mother would part with her as a baby for a nice cash payment. We could then find her good parents who would bring her up with love - or do you think she’ll be a prostitute because it is in her genes?”
He is a perceptive blighter. “Are you trying to tell me that Abigail’s baby is not to blame, that I should not hate it? I have no intention of doing so, boy or girl, I’ll love it. As for your question, why don’t you adopt her yourself? You need a child in your life.”
“By the time she’s born I’ll be really old.”
“With the years you’ll live, so what? Do you think she will not love you because you are old?” He’s turned the tables on me and now I’m the one trying to work out how I feel.
“When I return as a Cherinian, I wonder whether you’ll like me as much, as a bossy little girl.”
He grinned. “You mean I can spank you when you’re naughty.” He saw the look in my eyes and chuckled. “Will you still be my aunt.”
“Always.”
This evening the weather was warm and we joined the crowds and sat outside the hotel at the coffee shop. I talked as if I were recalling my life, starting with the choice of my soul. I then went on to speak of how the Sparklers tell us that every soul is re-born pure, however evil their previous life had been.
“Every time a soul denies its potential, either through laziness or by hurting another, even when it fears, we find that a part of it darkens. Hate darkens it more than anything else. Despite our being Cherinians we too find spots of darkness growing in us. That is one advantage of going to the void - we can see when a loved one is not happy or is feeling guilty. You might think it strange that we consider it an important gauge for, surely as telepaths, you’d say, we should know. The truth is, if you fool yourself and bury what you are feeling we might not sense it. Going to the void makes the truth visible for all to see.”
“Surely it is impossible for anyone to be an angel all the time?”
“None of us are angels, or souls of pure light. We have our faults and weaknesses. Being Cherinians just means that we try harder to attain the impossible state of being the ideal our rules guide us towards. It may be impossible to reach a state of perfection, but the joy and challenge is in trying to achieve it.”
“Is Robert the least ideal of all of you?”
“Because he has killed? You’re not going to like what I’ll tell you. Up to now, my mother, Samantha, is the furthest from being her ideal.” I narrowed my eyes in thought, perplexed. “Perhaps she is also the closest to being the ideal.”
“Not Cherine!?”
“Cherine? All you have to do is see the devils dancing in her eyes and you’d know she is not. It is funny, Robert treats each darkness in our souls as a challenge, except for Cherine. I think it is partly because he fears her becoming a creature of pure light.”
We talked well past midnight and I was pleased, as I usually am with him, that his questions and probing sometimes gave or led me to new insights for me to puzzle over. I keep very close to me, locked deeply so that none of my loved ones sense my terrible fear and guilt when I talk of Cherinianism. If Robert never finds me, I have committed a terrible sin against their hearts and souls by lighting a candle of hope and filling them with dreams that won’t come true. The worst of it is, that much of what I’ve told them was out of my own weakness, my need to speak of all that my heart yearns for.
Pol and Abigail chose to get married in the small country church where my mums and da got married. Of course everyone from the village came and it saddened me to see how they have aged and how many faces were missing, gone on to their next lives.
I suggested to Edti and Sandi and only when they agreed did I tell Pol. I sent them to America for their honeymoon. When it ends they will not return. I have appointed him overall manager of all our operations there. That way no tongues can wag when their child is born less than nine months after the wedding. It is strange for me having to adjust to so many prejudices and I’m glad I came here as a child, or else I might have found it extremely unpleasant.
Forty five years. Another five years and I’ll have been apart from my family half a century. I cannot bear the thought of living another eighty years without seeing them. I dearly love my family here, but they do not fill the emptiness in me. With Pol gone, for good this time, I have far too many hours alone, so I stay at the office until late, trying to fill the emptiness with my work and plans for expanding the business. That it is mostly pointless if I am found and my loves here are made Cherinians does not matter. The wealth will serve them and much of it will be used for helping those who are destitute and living without hope.
I have not written much about sex, especially once Pol started reading my diary I had to keep certain of my thoughts and needs a secret. My healer keeps me at peak health, so it means my libido is high. There is no way I could make love to or with anyone. After all these years and for the rest of my life, it is and will always be only Robert and my Cherinian family that I want that way. I’ve met attractive men I’ve found interesting and sexy, I’ve also had to endure the heartaches, and sometimes the anger, of men who’ve fallen in love with me. I arrived here with the idealised looks I’d chosen for myself, and with my peak health I appreciated that it was inevitable I’d hurt many. That is not a problem that belongs to this reality only, even on our own Earth we’ve had to suffer the pain of those who find us irresistibly beautiful, so I never get angry or haughty. I’ve met women who act is if they’ve been insulted when a man they do not like (or someone they consider ‘below their station’) falls in love with them. I’ve never understood that, do they not also have souls and hearts? How can anyone feel anything but flattered. Even when a woman loves me, I feel her pain.
In the end we did not have to sell all our diamonds at a discount, but our entry into the market has slightly depressed the market and the prices are now about three percent lower than they were before. We have also had an effect on the market with regard to the food we grow. Our customer base has changed and we no longer supply America and Europe, almost all our harvest being sold within Africa. For that reason we subsidise our farms and sell as cheaply as we can. It is ironic, for it means that if Robert comes here and supplies everyone with a food machine, our overall profits will temporarily increase as he supplies the poor first. If that happens, I am determined to spend a fortune in rehabilitating our farms and revert them to their wild state.
Jakob has just learnt that my problems with our government were caused by Jetrol! It seems he realised I have unnatural powers (as he puts it) and is terrified of me, seeing me as a threat to all Normals. Jakob explained to me, when he saw how distraught I was, that his fear was partly caused by the fact that he was in love with me and that when I showed no interest he grew to hate me. In my mind, the Jetrol I first met is still vibrantly alive and it makes me want to weep to think that I was the cause of his drawing into himself, hiding within his hate, all the promise I saw dead because of me.
I was invited to a supper at the palace. I was saddened to see how old King George looks. Not only old, but also unhealthy, and I saw his fingers trembling. I decided to hell with everything, I do not care to live here for much longer, I’ll find a way to end my life. In the reckless mood I was in, I decided that our king has also been my friend and I owe it to him to help.
He found a moment to whisper to me, “My cousin suggests you ask for an audience.”
“I regret I will not be able to. Please pass on to him that I cannot at this time for reasons of health. Your majesty, could I have one hour or more alone with you and the Queen?”
He raised an eyebrow, but came to a decision. “Why not, I doubt you plan to assassinate us. When you are leaving you will be led to a room. Please wait for us.”
As they entered the room I got to my feet but he waved for me to sit down. “You have a new prognosis that will distress our government?” He actually looked more alive, as if he anticipated the trouble he expected me to provoke.
“Your majesties, I am a far more dangerous woman than I appear to be. I have certain gifts of the mind not possessed by others. My prime gift is healing. I asked to meet you because I no longer think of you as my King and Queen. To me you also feel like friends and I cannot bear to keep my secret at cost to both of you. I need to touch you in turn. I will need at least an hour with each of you. Will you trust me?”
With hooded eyes that bore into me he gave a slight nod. “Our government suspects you have extrasensory powers. What do you intend doing?”
“I wish to return both of you to full health. You will not become younger, but you will feel younger and full of life again.” I did not mention that they would also live longer.
He spoke to his queen, “Please see to it that we are not interrupted and return to us.” He reached out and touched my hand. “Is the contact sufficient?”
“It is, please do not break the contact, whatever you feel. Some problems can cause unpleasant tingling or discomfort.”
Over the next one and a half hours he seemed to blossom, his paper thin skin returning to the glow of health. His queen forgot she was queen and showed her awe as she stared at him. When I released his hand and made to touch her, she withdrew before allowing me to touch her. He paced up and down as he waited, filled with energy and excitement. I smiled.
“You may talk if you wish, it will not affect my healer.”
“Why have you kept your ability a secret? So many thousands you could have helped.”
“Will you keep my secret from your government if you see that I am no threat to your people?”
“You have our word.”
