Prologue
Life is very much what you make of it and I should know. To make things easy for everyone, my name is Elizabeth Jackson. Not Lizzy, Liz, or any other short version a bored minded soul might decided is the sport to engage in. My parents christened me, God rest their souls, Elizabeth and that’s what I remain today. I have burnt copper coloured hair worn shoulder length and often hanging in a haphazardly tied ponytail. I have a fair complexion, with sky blue eyes. My nose is somewhat bulbous but not obnoxious, unless I want it to be when I poke my nose into other people’s affairs. A trait that unfortunately isn’t always acceptable to some but eminently useful to me. I’m five foot six with a regular figure, neither slim nor obese. If I indulge in chocolate, which is something I do frequently when things get tough, it decides to add at least an inch around my waist. However, my profession means that I can easily vacate the gaining weight in a matter of moments.
This, of course, brings me to what I do for a living. I’m an Angel.
Hey, I heard the laughter and the comment ‘there’s another kooky number who needs to get a life.’
Life, my friend, is exactly what I’d love to have. Alas, long time ago, 1889 to be precise, my life ended. Today, tomorrow, the past, the future and all in between has no merit for me. What is is. End of story.
That means of course, I’m a boring old fart with an obnoxious attitude and nothing to redeem myself. That in itself might turn you off to continue reading except for one small item—maybe it’s YOU, I’ve been sent to help, which therefore begs the question—dare you walk away?
Chapter One
“Lizzy, we have a potential.”
Elizabeth Jackson scowled heavily and subconsciously glared at her resident mentor. With as much menace as she was able, she mentally growled, “My name is, Elizabeth. How many times do I need to tell you that, Digby?”
A low chuckle answered her question.
“I can ask for a replacement if I’m not satisfied with your help.” Elizabeth snarled.
“Yes, you can. But you’ve been through how many mentors since they gave you this opportunity? Five at the last count.”
Elizabeth threw her head back and the slight wind blew her auburn hair unattractively over her face. Her hand shoved the hair away while blue eyes scanned the room and the empty tables around her. “Six. As usual, you forgot Harry.”
Digby sniggered. “Harry, yes I do forget him. I confess he’s never been the same since he initiated with you. I have to tell you that you can make or break them, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth groaned and drew in a ragged breath. “Potential you say?”
“Yes, Penelope Vitale though you wouldn’t care for that detail.”
“Get on with it, Digby.”
“In exactly three hours our dear Penny will join the deceased unless you decide to help.”
“Has she asked for help?” Elizabeth snapped.
There were a few expectant seconds. “Not exactly.”
Elizabeth looked heavenwards and sighed. “Ever the prevaricator, Digby.”
“She doesn’t believe.”
Elizabeth stood prepared to leave one of her favourite haunts, Marie’s Diner.
“She’s like you,.” Digby’s salacious voice said.
“I don’t care if she’s of the same kidney. If she doesn’t believe, my procrastination will make no difference whatsoever. Deceased she will be. Call me from the dead sleep when you have an indisputable case for me to deal with.” Elizabeth glanced at her bill. “No victim to help therefore no reason for me to be here.
A pretty waitress with a false smile appeared suddenly at Elizabeth’s side. “Enjoy the coffee and chocolate muffin?”
Elizabeth gave the woman a cursory look and nodded. “Yes. Maybe the next time I’m in the area I’ll enjoy the full works.”
The waitress’s smile changed. “Sounds good. The boss will be pleased.”
“Great. Maybe I’ll see you again.”
As usual there was no reply. Her life was a series of encounters with no substance.
“Are you going to help, Penny?” Digby
“No!”
“I’ll make it worth your while.”
Elizabeth curled her upper lip in a snarl.“How the hell can you do that, Digby? You aren’t even a corporeal entity. Everything you do is in my head.”
“Yeah and your head is a real mess. Maybe the next mentor assigned should be a shrink.”
“Oh, lovely. My own personal evaluation exam every time I wake up,” Elizabeth remarked sarcastically.
“She’s going on a blind date with a guy who’s taking her for a boat ride. She won’t come back.”
Elizabeth’s back went rigid. Her mind was traversing memories well in the past that she never buried deep enough not to shake her equilibrium. She shook her head. “Until she requests our help it isn’t possible.”
“It’s a mere technicality and you know it. If you chose, out of the kindness of your Angel heart, to help there isn’t anyone to stop you.”
Elizabeth scowled. “Not exactly true. Isn’t that why you are here?” She stopped at the cash register long enough to pay the bill including a tip. A bonus of the job—she never needed to carry money. Though there were not many perks of this profession that much she had found out in the early days.
“Then I’m the one to be ousted not you. Isn’t that what usually happens? You never support your mentor. You’re a loner Angel, Lizzy, and it makes for quite a debate with the powers that be.”
Elizabeth glanced around the street noting that was nothing much to call home there. She couldn’t even allow the melody of the accents of people around her to give her a false sense of belonging. This wasn’t her country of origin. “Glad I’m of some useful gossip for everyone. When, or, if she asks for help, I’ll be happy to oblige. Now, I need another chocolate fix. Her eyes fixated on a sign that clearly stated ‘Indulge in the best-Kerry’s chocolate burst’. “Ah there that should do it.”
Trust me, you won’t like it.”
“Chocolate is chocolate. I’ll like it.”
Ten minutes later, Elizabeth virtually spit out a bite of what she deemed her favourite food on earth. “This is absolute garbage; I’ve a good mind to…”
“I told you so. Maybe sometimes you’ll listen to a mentor instead of just ignoring our recommendations. We are here to help you. I wish you’d allow that sometimes. Why do you keep yourself aloof of friendship, Lizzy?”
“Friendship? How can someone like me ever have a friend? I’m never in one place or time long enough to cultivate such a thing. I never asked for this, Digby. Whatever I did or didn’t do in my past to be here is rubbish. They should have left me to the long sleep of the dead where most everyone else goes,” Elizabeth bit out.
“You still don’t get it do you? Over a century later and you still don’t get it.”
“Digby, the only thing I get right now is that a person has decreed that what I’ve just tried to consume as my heaven on earth turned out to taste bloody gammy. I don’t forgive that.” Elizabeth strode towards the alleyway where she emerged after waking.
“Will you trust me just once, Elizabeth? Please.”
Elizabeth’s steps slowed significantly, as she continued towards the alleyway. “Tell me again why I should jeopardise your existence?”
Digby chuckled. “Because they gave me to you as a mentor for my superior intellect. .Okay, because this is a case that’s personal to us both.”
Elizabeth replied, “At last honesty. Details please. We have a soul to save.”
Chapter Two
Marion Thomas gazed earnestly at her friend. “I think it’s a bad idea, Penelope.”
Penelope Vitale laughed. Her bleached blonde hair cut in an immaculate bob bounced at the action. “You are such a worry wart, Mari. It’s a date. No more no less. Come on, I’ve been chatting with him for over a year and it is time to meet him. A blind date isn’t exactly the correct term. I’ve seen his picture.”
“Yeah, but what I want to know is why won’t he have a video cam link with you.”
“He’s said for ages his connection is screwy. Come on you know that your friend Cathy and her satellite are hardly reliable.”
Marion scowled. “You could at least meet and have your first real date on solid ground. Like in a public place!”
Penelope laughed. “He’s not a mass murderer, Mari. What an imagination you have.”
Marion dropped her hazel gaze and drew it towards the window of the small apartment she shared with her best friend. “He could be, Penelope. Please reconsider. Have dinner in a nice restaurant overlooking the harbour.”
Penny laughed. “Because I want to have dinner alone with Ben. I’ve been chatting with him for a year. I want to spend my first date getting all up close and physical. Please, Mari, give up on the doom and gloom. You’re worse than my parents.”
Marion screwed up her dainty nose and shook her head. She watched her friend collect her purse and jacket and just as Penny was about to leave, Marion walked quickly towards the door and hugged her friend. “Have wonderful time, Penelope. I’ll want all the details when you get home.”
Penny grinned. “If I get lucky, it might be tomorrow.” Penny winked suggestively. “I’ll fill in all the glorious details when I do see you again.”
As the door closed behind her best friend, Marion bit down hard on her lower lip. Then she looked upwards and whispered, “I hope this isn’t a mistake, Penelope. I have a bad feeling in my gut about this date.”
*
“Lizzy, where are you going?”
Elizabeth blew out a frustrated breath. “To find this, Penelope Vitale, of course. Where else do you think I’m going?”
Digby’s voice in Elizabeth’s head seemed to hesitate. “Shouldn’t we be going to where she’s having the date?”
“I don’t know where she’s having the date do I? We aren’t exactly following protocol. Or, had that slipped your mentoring mind.”
“Ah, right. Yes, of course. Where are we going?”
Elizabeth walked up a short flight of stairs leading to an apartment block and pressed a button on the wall. “You’ll see.”
The buzzer on the wall rang out loudly.
A timid voice asked, “Who is it?”
“Are you, Penelope Vitale?”
“No. I’m the M Thomas on the nameplate.”
For a few seconds Elizabeth digested the answer. “Where can I find, Penelope? I need to speak with her now.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t give out that information since I don’t know who you are. Who are you?”
“My name is Elizabeth Jackson. Penelope is…an old pen pal friend. We go way back. You know…I’m looking up friends in foreign countries kind of thing. She told me that if I was ever in her town to seek her out. I’m only here for a couple of hours it seems such a shame not to make contact with her.” The false sincerity slipped easily off Elizabeth’s tongue. While she waited, she cursed her inability to know exactly where the woman was located. The woman hadn’t formally invited Elizabeth into her life. She’d had to thumb through the outrageously large telephone book to find a listing that was a possible matched. Her sixth sense glowed indicating she found the right name and information.
There was a profound silence.
In an angry tone, Elizabeth said, “Look, are you going to tell me anything of value or not. I’m not wasting what little time I do have, as you tediously prevaricate with me. You either know where she is or you don’t.”
Digby chose that moment to speak. “Give the woman some slack, Lizzy. I wouldn’t give you the time of day with an attitude like that.”
“Lord, love a duck, please give me strength. Look, this is ridiculous. You tell, Penelope, I was here.”
Elizabeth was just about to release the voice button on the intercom when a faint sound.
“She’s on a blind date. All I know is she’s taking a boat out of Frobisher Harbour in… Well, she’s probably already on the boat now. I’m sorry I can’t help with any more information.”
Elizabeth heard the worry in the woman’s voice and rolled her eyes. “Thank you. Don’t worry. We’ll take care of her.” Elizabeth turned away from the apartment building.
Digby quietly commented, “You can be nice sometimes I see.”
“If the moment requires it yes and she seemed genuinely worried. How long does, Penelope, have left?”
Digby replied, “One hour, twelve minutes and ten seconds.”
Elizabeth let out a shrill laugh. “No pressure then. So the countdown is on. We might make the harbour before they set off.”
*
Marion stood at the intercom and gazed at it as if mesmerized. Then she walked slowly towards her computer, gradually sat down, and positioning herself for comfort. As comfortable as her healing body allowed. A car accident almost two years earlier had broken several vertebrae in her back. She became incapacitated for several months at the hospital. Sheer will and determination had decreed she wasn’t going to end up in a wheelchair on a permanent basis. Eight months ago, she’d begun walking with a walker and now, although slow by most people’s standards, she was actually walking unaided for short bursts. A walking stick provided by her physio was something she suffered with and didn’t want to use it in in the long term. Although the doctors had decreed that would never happen, her optimism had been and still was her shining light. Along with Penelope.
Her self-centred best friend had kept her on as half tenant although she’d been unable to pay for anything other than the actual half rent for over a year. Penelope, with her usual breezy attitude, had decreed she could do the household chores as best she could and one day who knew, she might need that help in return. Although Penelope often centred on her own particular orbit, there were times when her friend was simply the best. Those times along with other crucial moments in her life held their friendship together for years. They’d met at eleven years old and now at twenty-eight. The friendship, born of God only knew what, became a part of both their lives.
Her computer came to life when she pressed the spacebar and she looked at the. blog she’d begun two years earlier as a way to help with her mental therapy whilst in hospital. Penelope originally made the suggestion that was now like a second skin to her now.
Flexing her fingers, she began to type.
*
“Bloody crazy, Digby, and you know it.” Elizabeth stared at the colourful regatta of boats in the harbour. “I can’t believe we are in the middle of a blooming fair.”
“You will know when you’ve found the right boat, Lizzy. It’s part of who you are.”
“No, you charlatan. It’s what they made me, Digby.”
“Pardon me?” a gruff voice at her side said.
Elizabeth, hearing a significant change in tone, glanced at a man who was at eye level with her. “Are you talking to me?”
“I could say the same about you,” the man belligerently replied.
Elizabeth scrutinized the man. He had rising bushy eyebrows with a neck that appeared to bulge profusely over a turtleneck sweater.
“Is your name, Digby?”
“No. Therefore, I’m not talking to you am I, squire.” Elizabeth replied.
The man gave her a finger. “Fucking foreigners. They should shoot the whole lot of them.”
Elizabeth watched the man walk away with her face contorting her plain features into a mask of irony. Her eyes scanned the first wharf full of boats and wondered why she’d agreed to do this in the first place. The smell of the water was a benefit for it had no stagnant sewerage floating in its murky depths. There was also the absence of foggy air that clogged the lungs and obscured the view. The chortling laughter of inebriated men and women staggering around was also absent. In fact, this was nothing in comparison her personal situation had been in her earthly body. What the hell am I doing here?
“You need to concentrate.”
“Digby, we might already be too late. Unless she suddenly finds the need to ask for help, we are as much, as I hate to say this, dead in the water.”
“Don’t say that, Lizzy. You’ll find a way. You always do.”
Elizabeth reflected on her accomplishments in her role as an Angel. It had been relatively successful. At least she assumed so as they still held her in containment. The higher powers only brought her out of her dead sleep to help someone whenever her particular talents were required. She never knew who, where, or the year and century. They were always different. Her cases also varied as to the gender of those she helped. Only the theme was concurrent—the natural element of water and imminent death. “Miracles happen right?”
Digby laughed. “Right. We are here and that’s a miracle in my book.”
Elizabeth continued scanning the boats in the harbour knowing that unless a miracle happened, they were doomed to failure. That is something I’ve never experienced as an Angel. I wonder what they do to a default Angel.
Chapter Three
Marion wrote her blog and several online supporters who were now friends that she’d met over the time, commented immediately. They varied from sympathy at her predicament of advising a total stranger where Penelope went on her date to outright curiosity about the so-called pen pal who had arrived unexpectedly. One of her dearest online friends, Christine, asked if it had been wise to say anything at all and if she knew the name of the boat Penelope had actually gone on. Of course, Marion had stated only that it was the harbour and the blind date had been dinner onboard a boat. Beyond that, she couldn’t say more—much as she’d informed this stranger. There were questions about Penelope’s old friend. Marion reflected on the woman before stating that the only thing she distinctly remembered was her accent. British. She also added that the woman wasn’t the polite sort that you always figured the English to be.
Her friend then asked all kinds of questions about what the English woman might look like based on the voice. It then became a fun discussion has Marion’s descriptions bordered on the woman being some kind of reincarnation of the devil. Half an hour later, after closing the blog and the connection with her online friends, Marion began to consider what her friend Christine had said.
Was it a wise move to tell her where Penelope went? The more she thought about it the more it worried her. Fifteen minutes later, she was in a taxi heading for the harbour. If nothing else, she might put a face to the English voice.
*
Penelope was enthralled at the wonderfully gallant gentleman who had met her at the harbour. He was slightly older than she’d imagined but the grey sideburns only gave his ruggedly handsome features depth. His rich deep tones vibrated through her like a tuning fork and if he’d immediately asked her to go bed she’d have done so. A part of her was surprised at her reaction. A swooning maid from an old-fashioned romance novel was far from her style. However, at the moment that is what she felt like. Instead of a kiss on the cheek, which she had half expected, he took her hand and placed a kiss on her palm before smiling at her with dark blue eyes.
“You have beautiful hands.”
Penny blushed. “No one has ever said that to me before, Ben. Thank you.”
“We now have a feast for the lady of the lake. I hope you don’t mind me taking liberties with the environment.”
Penny grinned. “Lady of the lake sounds great to me. I’ve never heard that expression before.”
There was no answer as Ben indicated the boat where they were going to share dinner.
Penny looked over the craft, and she inwardly gasped. “Wow, Ben, how can you afford a boat like this? Are you a millionaire?”
“Not exactly. I have means.” Ben steered Penny towards the gangplank of the vessel.
Onboard the boat, Penny gleefully stored away the memories she was making. Marion would be so envious. It was going to be great relating this wonderful tale to Marion. Her friend might not be socially in her league but she was dependable and a very caring and sharing woman. She knew she was selfish, always had been, always would be. Marion saw through all that and put up with the crap she’d given her friend. It was enough to last two lifetimes. This will wow Marion big time. Marion always loved romance or at least the idea of romance.
“I’ve taken the liberty of providing the means for us to have a fresh dinner, and I’ll be your chef this evening. Penelope, there’s a chill in the air tonight. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable below as I take us out of the harbour.”
“Yeah. It is getting cold.” Penelope pulled her thin jacket closer to her body. “Although, a picnic out at sea sounds perfect to me, Ben.” Penelope moved to the hooded opening that went to a staircase, which she easily navigated and was astounded to find that there was only a melamine table with gleaming knives set out. The picnic food must be fresh. Probably fish. That makes sense. She moved past the table and then came across a small alcove where an ornate chess set was sitting pride of place between two benches. The pieces were a golden colour, each depicting mythical creatures from the sea. Penelope picked up one that had toppled over and marvelled at the craftsmanship. It was an exquisitely crafted mermaid with lifelike facial features that she thought resembled her face. She giggled at the thought. “Silly me. How can that be?”
“I see you’ve found my treasure trove, Penelope. I hope you enjoy playing chess.”
Penelope didn’t have a chance to reply as Ben’s hands moved to pull her towards him and he silenced anything she was going to say with a kiss.
*
Elizabeth grimaced, attempting to concentrate on the boats that were not part of the festival going on in the harbour. That was the key—she knew it. Every second they took to check out a wrong boat meant time was running out for Penelope. They had inspected fifteen boats so far and in that time many more had left the harbour.
“Digby, let’s call it a no go.”
“No!”
The adamant reply made Elizabeth grind her teeth. “I have the strangest feeling that in that ancient deviant mind of yours you might be playing me for a fool.”
“Never. I’d be banished to hell if that happened. Please, Lizzy, give it a little more time. We might get the call.”
“Hell doesn’t exist-except maybe the hell of being an Angel. As much as I hate to say this, we are already too late for Penelope. She’s gone Digby. Let’s leave this place. Whatever vibes you had in this decade are not syncing with the here and now.” Elizabeth blew out a breath and the cooling air made her breath swirl around her. A tangible reminder of another time and place-it made her shudder. “In truth, Digby, I hate the water.”
“To be expected, in the circumstances. I have deduced that fate laughs in our faces.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Fate? Really? What happened to you that makes you deduce that as you aptly put it.”
“I’m originally from the Roman occupation of Britannia, Lizzy. It constantly mocks me.”
Puzzled, Elizabeth considered the remark. Although over the last one hundred and twenty plus years that her education for each decade she travelled increased, she’d never gone that far back in time. The only reference when she was alive as a working class girl about the Romans was with regard to the roads she navigated. Roman soldiers made straight roads.
“I’m going to ask, though I know I probably shouldn’t, what’s your story?” Elizabeth held up her hand. “Oh, and before you say it, we have plenty of time. Unless we get the call, there’s not a cat in hell’s chance we can recover Penelope alive.”
“If you tried harder perhaps that wouldn’t be the outcome.”
“Temper, temper, Digby. Why is this case so important to you?”
There was snort inside her head and she grimaced. I hope he had a handkerchief in there.
“My wife and daughter were taken by Roman soldiers as bed slaves.”
Elizabeth was lost for words. Not one of her other mentors had ever confessed their past to her—in fact, it wasn’t allowed. It was just another rule they’d broken together. That was becoming a singularly interesting pattern. “What happened to them…and you?”
“I tried to retrieve them.”
The words had a depth of meaning neither one of them needed to elaborate.
“To quote the youth of this decade, life sucks. I’m sorry, Digby.”
Elizabeth didn’t expect the excited emotion that exploded in her head.
Digby screamed, “Elizabeth, we have a call.”
The wavelength Digby emanated allowed the request to wash over Elizabeth and rejuvenate her Angel qualities. The next second she was standing at an empty mooring next to a woman who looked decidedly worried.
*
“Are you okay?”
Marion stared unseeing at the empty mooring spot, and wished she’d not been such a fool. A quiet, yet vaguely familiar, tone echoed in her ear. Penelope? In eager anticipation of seeing her friend, Marion turned and saw a total stranger. Flustered, she squinted through her rimless glasses. “I’m sorry did you say something?”
Elizabeth smiled slightly. “I asked if you were okay. You look worried?”
Perplexed Marion asked, “Do I know you?”
“We have never met, if that’s what you are asking. Is there something I can help you with?”
Marion was of two minds. A sense of peace flooded her being while there was a tenseness that needed attention. “I’m being silly. My friend has gone on a date-a blind date. I guess I was worried. You can’t be too careful these days. Can you?”
Elizabeth replied, “Not just these days. On any of our days, Marion. Do you know the name of the boat your friend has gone on? There’s a festival here and hundreds of sailing craft.”
Marion did know this woman but she knew her voice. It was the English person. Penelope’s pen pal. What an idiot I am. “Didn’t you come by the apartment earlier looking for Penelope?”
“Yes. What gave it away? My poker face?”
Marion felt a wave of darkness engulf her at that expression. “I never saw you. It was your accent. It’s definitely not middle America.”
“Hardly. However, your deduction is accurate.”
“Don’t you think this is odd that we met here in this spot? I never told you exactly where.”
“A pertinent detail you refrained from mentioning I might add, which might haunt you later in life. May I ask why you are worried about your friend?”
“I’m not. At least I wasn’t. Not until you showed up.” It was a small lie. She never liked the idea of Penelope going on this date.
Elizabeth let out a cynical chuckle. “Oh, so it’s all my fault. How infinitely American. In my country we wouldn’t be so bold as to blame a stranger to their face. It is considered impolite, my dear.”
Marion was irked. She wasn’t much for confrontational behaviour but the woman was obnoxious. She’d heard it in the voice earlier at the apartment and now, in person, it was even more unsettling. “I’m not impolite! I have manners. Why don’t you just go away? I’ll find, Penelope, on my own.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Sorry, my dear. You requested help and I’m it. Let me show you just what you unleashed by that request to the heavens.”
Marion stepped back and rocked on her cane that she held so tightly that her knuckles went white. “I did no such thing…” She felt her whole world spin into a glorious spiral of light and peace.
*
“I’m with Marion you were harsh.”
“Why, she asked for our help?” Elizabeth felt her nose move in that almost werewolf way that meant disapproval and snarled to her inner mentor. “I don’t have to be nice just efficient. Besides, she can’t blame us if we fail. She conveniently forgot to mention the mooring spot.”
“That’s what annoys you the most isn’t it, Lizzy? She didn’t immediately tell you what you wanted to know right?”
Elizabeth hissed,“Yes.”
“Can’t blame her really.”
Affronted, Elizabeth remarked, “You don’t approve of her attitude do you?”
“You were a total stranger and she was looking out for her friend. You could have been a predator. How would she know the difference?”
Elizabeth scoffed, “I’m a woman not a man, idiot. How do I equate that to being a predator.”
“Woman are predators too, Lizzy.
“You’d know this how exactly?”
“I’ve been around for far more centuries than you. Look, we are wasting time. Let’s find Penny and save her.”
Digby’s inference disquieted Elizabeth. She had never considered a woman as a predator. A man of course she did Women didn’t succumb to that blood lust. They brought life into the world, they defended life, they…were human. “Let’s get this damned assignment over with.”
“Now it’s all up to you, Lizzy. Good luck.”
There was an ethereal silence in Elizabeth’s head. Digby was gone to allow her to concentrate on the task-at-hand. It was now all up to her. Her mission was a choice of paths—her will to allow life or ultimately death.
*
Marion half opened her eyelids to peek at what was happening to her. She wasn’t sure what broke her out of the strange cocoon-like phenomena she appeared to be in but something had. Perhaps the salty aroma assailing her nostrils or the dark wood that a tunnel vision image portrayed brought her consciousness back. Whatever it was, she knew that it had something to do with the English woman. She didn’t feel threatened. If anything, she sensed a calmness that she’d never experienced before. Even the injured parts of her body were not protesting as usual at every movement she made. Maybe it’s because I’m not moving that that particular sensation is gone. Her immediate reaction to what had happened to her was she was in a dreamscape. How else could she describe the kaleidoscope of light on the fringes of the tunnel she had she occupied only moments before. I was asleep and having a nightmare. No, it wasn’t. The whole atmosphere within her sensory zones was one of inner peace and tranquillity. That left only one other obvious outcome. I was hallucinating. She recently started new pain medication and she reasoned that they broken down her body’s natural defences and sent her into a drug induced comatose heaven. A voice infiltrated her mind and spoke to her in a soft tone.
“I need to release you from the bond. Please do not speak or move when I do so. Do you understand me?”
Marion felt her sense of tranquillity shift to mildly aggressive as she felt her lips move. No sound came out yet the words she wanted to say echoed in her head. ‘I understand. What do you mean by a bond?’
The security blanket that had held her dropped away, and the tendrils of light that had flickered around Marion’s body disappeared. Cold dark wood and the salty scent assailed her more potently. Her eyes opened wide and immediately realised that she was on a boat and that they were no longer in the harbour. Her stomach lurched in protest. She’d never been much of a sailor. Though saw no one in the area with her, she said, “Where the hell am I?”
This time, the voice that replied, wasn’t soft. It had the harsh edge that she had originally associated with the strange woman who had come looking for Penelope.
“I gave you a simple instruction. Please refrain from speaking.”
Fearful, Marion lashed out defensively. “I will not! Why have you kidnapped me and how? I never felt a thing. Did you drug me?”
There was a soft laugh in her left ear and Marion turned abruptly but saw no one there. She was quite alone on the stern of what appeared to be a well cared for thirty-foot ketch.
“I said don’t speak. If you do, not only will your friend will be in danger but you will too.”
Marion didn’t understand any of this but the mention of Penelope being in trouble had her gut wrenching in response. She remained silent and decided this was definitely a nightmare and she’d wake shortly. Once she pinched herself, everything would be fine. Her fingers trailed over her arm and she gave herself a sharp pinch.
“You aren’t asleep, in a dream, or having a nightmare.” There was a slight chuckle. “Well, a nightmare is probably closer to the actual. I have to leave you and find your friend. Stay here and be quiet. I will be back for you.”
Marion nodded, unsure of just about everything and waited for something to happen. It didn’t. Okay, I’ll give it five minutes then I’ll find someone aboard this boat. There has to be a skipper.
*
Elizabeth hated defeat.
Her ethereal gaze took in the lifeless form of Penelope Vitale. Her pale sightlessly eyes were open. Her body was in a chair in front of a chess board with her left hand placed over the queen on her side of the board. Blood seeped from a wound to the abdomen and dripped onto a plastic tray on her lap. What evaded the try became a crimson dye over her clothing. Elizabeth gazed deeply at the scene. Her special abilities allowed her to see beyond the barriers of the clothes and the flesh. The woman’s innards were gone and the body cavity resembled a gutted fish. The kill was fresh—within the hour. There was little chance to save this woman. Why didn’t Digby know this? Why am I here?
Her anger transmuted to a violent question that reverberate in her head. “Digby, what the bloody hell is going on?”
“Lizzy, what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Are you blind as well as incompetent, Digby? We didn’t have a chance to save this woman. She was dead as she stepped on this boat. Why have I brought an innocent aboard to witness this murder scene? Tell me, Digby, why is that.”
There were mutterings from Digby in her head none of which were decipherable. She waited for the explanation and as the seconds ticked by her anger mounted.
Except, seconds didn’t fly by for time stood still when she was in angel mode. Everything within the decade stopped allowing her to make whatever adjustments she saw fit to help the victim.
“I…I really do not understand this. We are here to help, Lizzy, or my name isn’t Digby Ignatius Cranford.”
The adamant response and the feeling that Digby was as upset and as startled as she made her think hard. “If we are, then who needs the help? I can’t bring back the dead.”
A noise of footfalls approaching had Elizabeth listening and watching intently. A man entered the small vestibule and gave a smirk of satisfaction as he looked over his fresh kill.
“Oh my dear, Penelope, you look so lovely. Particularly as I don’t need to listen to that awful voice of yours prattling on, though you did impart some useful information about your best friend. She knows the name of my boat and everything you know about me. That means of course I must take care of her just as I have you. You can share eternity together at the bottom of the sea and gossip all you want with the fish.” He moved to carefully flick back a strand of hair had had fallen over Penelope’s pallid face. He kissed her lips. A sharp sway of the vessel had him holding onto Penelope’s body as it slumped to one side. “Do not fear my, dear. I will take care of you.” He replaced her hand on the chess piece. Then swung his gaze to the small steps leading to the deck, “I’ll be back shortly to finish our game, my dear.” He moved towards the steps, climbed up them, and then disappeared through the open hatch.
“We have our answer, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth, as she always did, watched mesmerized by the unfolding scene. The gruesome way the man committed a crime against Penelope and the enjoyment he exhibited fascinated her. It was a flaw in her otherwise offhand way of dealing with the tasks accorded her. Her senses reacted violently as she wondered, not for the first time, if this was what had happened to her.
“Elizabeth, snap out of it. He’s gone. If you don’t act fast we could lose, Marion, too.”
Digby’s voice finally penetrated Elizabeth’s mind and took her away from disappointment at her lack of knowledge about her old life. “I won’t lose a second time today.”
Digby sighed. “Who said you’d failed today, Lizzy? I think that was my mistake.”
Elizabeth began the process of focusing her energy on keeping time dormant and retrieving Marion before the madman could harm her. After all, Marion was the one who asked for help. Perhaps Digby was correct and she hadn’t failed in her task. Yet. “By the way, your real name isn’t Digby Ignatius Cranford.”
A low chuckle followed her metamorphosis into pure energy.
*
Marion felt as if she’d been waiting for hours when in reality it was probably barely a minute or two. The lifting of the hatch to the entrance to the bowels of the boat caught her attention. Her head whipped around to see if whoever came up was familiar. She prayed it was Penelope—it wasn’t.
A smiling distinguished looking man, in a royal blue woollen sweater, and deep grey slacks emerged. Marion bit down on her lip. That woman…the voice in her head really, had told stay put and say nothing. How can I trust a voice? How can anyone trust a voice? The voice was dictatorial and that made her want to listen to its demands. Rivulets of seawater, which had splashed on her face after that last sudden swathe of waves crashing onto the deck, rolled down her cheeks and she wiped it away. To Marion, the calmness of the sea had responded to her inner dread that she was in danger. Where is that feeling of security, I had earlier? Right now, I’d accept it without question.
Marion was exposed. She had no place to hide and yet wondered why she should hide. This man didn’t look threatening. In fact, he was smiling and it made his features gentle for a moment. Besides, she needed to get back to shore and he was probably the person skippering the craft. After sucking in a deep breath, she decided to throw caution to the wind and approach the man. She’d probably fare better if she showed herself than if the man found her and thought she was a stowaway. At the end of the day, her logic told her that this was all a dream and soon she would wake up even if pinching herself didn’t work. Until then, she’d go along with the crazy scenario. That thought caused a bubble of laughter escape her lips and the sound, though not loud, floated on the wind with clarity towards the man.
He turned to look in her direction.
“Hi. Look, I know this is ridiculous, but I appear to be on your boat and I don’t have the faintest idea how I came to be here.” Marion felt her stomach lurch as she saw the man move forward. Where she had seen a softening of his profile as he smiled it was now the complete opposite. He scowled at her—the handsome profile became dark and demonic looking.
The man moved to within a few feet of her position. “Who are you?”
With her courage diminishing, she swallowed hard. “I believe you might know my friend Penelope Vitale. You wouldn’t by any chance be her friend, Ben Adams?” Marion saw a nerve pulsed in the cheek of the man and knew her question apparently hit a nerve. His expression changed slightly and let a slightly charming smile wreath is lips.
“I am. Would you by any chance be, Ms. Thomas? Penelope’s, best friend.”
The words were amiable enough and Marion felt her confidence begin to reassert itself. “Yes, I’m Marion Thomas. Look, I know this seems suspicious, me being on your boat and all, but I can explain…no, I can’t. Though, Penelope, can vouch for my character and I’m truly sorry to spoil your first date.” Marion waited for his response. Penelope is going to kill me.
The man let out a deep belly laugh as he extended a hand to hers.
Marion took his hand and noted that his soft hand had a powerful grip.
“No apologies necessary, my dear Ms. Thomas. I was just telling, Penelope, that I’d love to meet her best friend. Please come down below and join us. I know Penelope won’t mind at all.”
Marion, in that one statement, knew he didn’t know her friend that well. When Penelope saw her, even if it was a dream, she’d probably try to scratch her eyes out or worse, throw her overboard. At least she knew that in a dream she wasn’t likely to die. She’d definitely wake up if that was about to happen. She hesitated as she remembered the warning from the woman called Elizabeth.
“It’s cold up here, Ms. Thomas. Please come inside before Penelop ecomes looking for us. I’m sure she’ll hate having her pretty clothes all messed up with the sea spray.”
Oh, he is right on the button with that one. Maybe, he does know Penelope better than I thought. Once she realised that he hadn’t let go of her hand, she casually twisted her hand to try to free it but the clasp. It grew tighter. “Do you mind letting go of my hand? I’ll be fine and won’t get washed overboard.”
Ben Adams looked down at the thin hand he clasped and then into Marion’s expectant eyes. “I’d feel better if you allowed me to help you.”
Marion reluctantly agreed since she didn’t have her cane to help her. Or do I? Her gaze then riveted to the cane she held in her right hand. She figured there was definitely no other explanation—this was in a dream. “Okay that sounds…”
Marion felt as though her feet were lifting when a momentous shift in her equilibrium happened. She waited for something or someone to toss her into the sea. It didn’t happen. Instead, the calmness and peace that had engulfed her before now miraculously did so again. A cocoon of light shielded her again. Then the irritating yet soothing voice washed over her.
“It’s time to keep you safe and the monster at bay, Marion Thomas. Sleep now.”
Lethargy flooded her body and Marion could ask no questions as she succumbed to the need to sleep. Her eyes closed allowing the tranquillity of the bond she was in engulf her in a deep claming sleep.
*
Ben Adams couldn’t believe his eyes. One second he had unexpectedly captured his second prize of the evening. He had never scoffed at gifts handed to him on a plate and wasn’t about to start. Now she was gone. The glow of an intense red light made him drop Marion’s hand as if scorched by fire and close his eyes to prevent him from going blind at the light emitted. When he opened his eyes again, the Thomas woman had gone much like an apparition. Was that the case? Is she a ghost? Perhaps a ghost of the past, he’d killed so many women in the last thirty years how could he ever recall them all. He jeered at the nonsense of his thoughts and decided that the sea, as it did for many mariners, was merely playing tricks on him.
He had dinner to prepare. Fresh liver and kidneys was his favourite. After that, a satisfying chess game to play with the bountiful benefactor of his meal. After he drew in a deep breath of the salt laden air he smiled. The internet worthwhile foray proved beneficial and perhaps he’d do it again some other time. But not yet. He’d be back, if not this year, then maybe next. He hadn’t outwitted the police this long without his cunning to guide him. When he moored up after midnight and things were quieter in the harbour, he’d seek out the real, Ms. Thomas, and reunite her with her best friend. That would tie up all the loose ends. It was a pity that a talkative Penelope shared with her best friend the details and the name of his boat. Now he’d have to take care of her friend just to be on the safe side.
He shrugged, turned away, and tried to open the hatch. It was stuck and wouldn’t budge an inch. Under his breath, he cursed as he pulled at the latch on the door. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t move. He knew he hadn’t locked behind him. There’s no one down there to do that.
Then, the red light he’d witnessed earlier swirled towards him from the stern of the boat where the figment of a woman had been. The occurrence reminded him of an unexpected fog approaching from the sea. This was vivid. Lights that sparked made the red mist like object appear opaque at times shooting out in all directions with a sizzling sound of an electric current. Ben anxiously looked around him and saw no way of fleeing from the moving object that didn’t seem to be moving that quickly. It appeared to waver as he did as if it were baiting him. An inanimate object can’t do that can it?
The air around him seemed stifled and stagnant. As the mist grew closer, he swore he could hear voices. Some were familiar others not. He wasn’t afraid of a mist. What can it possible do to me? Over the years, he proved he was invulnerable— the police never caught him. I’m clever. No I’m brilliant. He was always on the move never leaving a shred of evidence of who he was or what he’d done. Besides, no one has ever found a body. How can they? I found the perfect place to bury my mermaids of the earth. A burial at sea, where the food was short and the predators even more aggressive than he, was the ideal place for their final resting place. If even a shred of the body appeared it would be assumed the victim had been an unfortunate victim of a horrible drowning or simply a tasty morsel for the kingdom of fish.
“Not this time.”
Ben curled up his lips at the arrogant voice. It was a taunt. It was unexpected but he’d had them over the years and ignored them. Those voices in his head had been a diversion at times but not a deterrent. His mother had him committed for hearing voices and she’d paid the price—his first ever victim. Maybe it was her voice he heard, coming back to haunt him. It would be so pathetically like her.
“I’m not your mother, Ben Adams. She’s in a good place and is happy and tranquil. The evil she unleashed on the world has been forgiven.”
Ben snarled at the inner voice. “Evil? She was the evil one by placing me in that institution! Do you know what happens to twelve-year-old boys in a place like that? Do you? Did she ever understand when I told her? No. She laughed and told me I was imagining things. Well the laugh was on her in the end, I asked her if she was imagining things. I gutted her like a fish.”
“Perhaps I should feed you to the fish too. Would that be a fitting ending for you?”
“You. Who are you but a voice in my head, I don’t listen to you I never have. You’re a wimp you never wanted to kill the mermaids. .You need me to do that. When I reach a hundred kills, I’ll be as powerful as Poseidon and take over his realm.” Ben growled and looked directly at the red mist that now engulfed him. He was held in the tendrils of the light and felt pain, not excruciating, just pin pricks of pain. It was as if he was being prodded by a low electric current. It didn’t hurt him. Nothing hurt him—he was invincible—he’d shown that over the years. “You can’t hurt me. No one can.”
“Sorry to burst that bubble, Ben, but you’re time is over. I can offer you a choice. The fish or the police.”
Ben, with his eyes wild, screamed out as he tried to focus on his boat and not the pain that increased as he breathed. “The fish are my friends. They wouldn’t eat me. The police are morons and they can’t touch me. I’ll live for another day to do this again and you can’t stop me. I chose the police.”
“The police it is then. Just remember one thing, Ben, lawyers are piranhas.”
Ben laughed wildly before his body pitched from one end of the boat to the other. His body bounced off wood and metal before eventually landing in a crumpled heap at the stern of the boat. He watch in horror as the mooring rope wrapped around him and the boat switched course back towards the harbour he’d left a few hours before.
“Enjoy the ride back, you murdering bastard. Your next boat trip will be with, Charon.”
“Charon? Who the hell is Charon?”
“Precisely. Hell and Charon in one breath is very fitting I’d say. Needless to say, you won’t be receiving a coin to see you safely across.”
Ben suddenly lurched forward as a charge of electricity entered his body and he fainted at the intense pain.
Chapter Four
Marion cried in relief, as she heard the verdict of her friend’s murderer. Ben Adams was sentenced to death for his atrocities. Evidence found was his boat on incriminated him of the murders of at least fifty-seven women. His crimes were so heinous that the district attorney never entertained the possibility of a plea bargain. Even Ben’s lawyer resigned himself to the fact that his client was as guilty and made little or no case for his vindication. The more she heard about Ben Adams the more she hated him. Yet, at the same time felt sorry for him. The only defence Ben’s lawyer produced indicated that Ben, as a preteen, after his mother committed him to an institution someone abused him.
She recalled vividly the police waking her from a deep sleep at three that fateful early morning. The two officers told her of Penelope’s death and that they had the man who had done the evil deed in custody. Marion had dreamt something nightmarish that night but the details were sketchy as if shrouded in a mist. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t remember the details.
How she’d gotten on with her life from that day forward had been difficult. At times, it was so hard she’d wonder if her life could ever be happy again. The pain in her body was Now, the pain in her body matched that of her grief over Penelope’s death. Her blog and internet friends had helped her some. Yet, the extraordinary thing that helped her the most was a voice. It wasn’t a voice but more like indecipherable words that brought with it tranquillity. A sensation she knew was familiar but couldn’t quite place. The peaceful noise constantly calmed her down, pushed her to put one foot forward each day, and carry on with her life.
Life was important. A good life was even better, especially as she would now be living it for two people—her and Penelope.
*
Elizabeth allowed a trace of a smile to curve her lips as she stared at the plate of double chocolate fudge cake. A generous dollop of cream and several pieces of chunky chocolate topped off the delicious looking dessert.
“Enjoy,” the waitress said as she placed the dessert in front of Elizabeth.
“I will,” Elizabeth grinned, picked up her fork, and immediately delved into the pleasurable delight.
“You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you love chocolate more than sex,” Digby said.
Elizabeth smacked her lips and didn’t care that the next table looked at her strangely. “Sex, who cares about sex? Angels don’t have sex. This is the only thing that is worth a bean in my opinion. If only I’d known what I do now about chocolate back in my day. I think I might still be alive.”
“Hardly. You’d be over a century and a half old.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Digby, a trifling detail. Hmm, this is delicious.”
“Lizzy, why are you still communicating with Marion Thomas?”
“Communicating? Marion Thomas, who the bloody hell is she? I’m not communicating with anyone. Why did you ask that?” Elizabeth placed another fork full of her treat in her mouth and felt the explosion of sense as it hit all the right spots.
“I’m your mentor…remember we are connected. Marion and Penelope. Do you remember them now? We almost lost the plot.” Digby waited. “Are you saying you don’t know you’re connected or have decided it isn’t my business?”
“It isn’t your business...however, I haven’t been in contact with Marion Thomas, since I put her in a deep forgetful sleep after she left the boat.”
“Well, that’s weird then because I feel the connection.”
“Digby, it’s all in your imagination. Besides, that’s a case that is all cleared up and sorted.” Elizabeth smacked her lips silently as she devoured more of her favourite food.
“Lizzy, it can’t be sorted if I still feel the connection. There has to be more to it.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You must have your wires crossed. In this decade, she’d be what...ten years old. We move on, time moves on for those that are alive. Maybe it’s time you thought about retirement.”
Digby snorted. “Retirement is for those older than I, my dear, Lizzy. Maybe you are right though, it must be the intensity of the case that makes me see the residual energy connection.”
“Yes, of course it is, Digby. You screwed up. We always remember those cases vividly. Now, I’m going to enjoy this and then sleep for a while. Remember to wake me when you receive the official call.” Elizabeth continued to eat her dessert with relish.
*
“Digby what have you to report?”
“Nothing, at least nothing that you don’t already know.”
“But it’s the things we don’t know that are of interest. That is why we have mentors with our angels. They see beyond the light and the darkness.”
Digby related what he’d told Elizabeth. “Maybe it’s just me and I need a rest. She said she doesn’t communicate with the woman. If she doesn’t appreciate that it is happening there isn’t a problem.”
A voice answered, “It is not for her to appreciate, Digby. It for us to do so and eliminate any perceived threat.”
“How can it be a threat? She has no immediate interest. In fact, I’d consider her the loneliest Angel we have. She has no associates to call on and uses up mentors as if they are of no consequence. There is absolutely no reason to terminate any perceived threat. Particularly with regard to Elizabeth. She’s very efficient.” Digby had never defended an Angel as he was so doing—he never needed to in the past. There was a myth in his kind that said once in a thousand years an Angel would be bonded to the living. That event could bring about the end of the tentative thread that allowed the universe to interact between the two if the connection wasn’t terminated.
“We can’t allow the doubt. Elizabeth will not be terminated for she is valuable to us. The human woman however is a simple matter. It will be carried out just as we would eliminate an evil element.”
Digby cried out in outrage. “That’s inhuman! We become the evil doer, if we terminate an innocent. How can you condone such an act?”
“Self sacrifice is part of the ideology. We will implant that notion to this human. Her life was not totally without purpose. After all, she was the key to stopping an evil man killing more women. That is a worthy achievement for any human.”
“And Liz...Elizabeth, what happens if she finds out what you’ve done?”
There was a tremor as many minds tumbled together;
Digby stood his ground as he waited for the answer.
“She will not. That’s where you come into play. You knew one day this might happen and you’ve had training for this event. However, if you feel that you are not up for the task, we will appoint her another mentor. As you’ve stated, she uses up mentors as if they are of no consequence, so she would not miss you or even question your replacement.”
Digby drew in a deep breath. “I’m up for the task.”
“Excellent. We will talk again once it’s over.”
Digby knew he was alone with his thoughts everything around him had gone silent. The big question now was could he do what they wanted him to do. Was it even a viable question? He’d spent numerous centuries in the service of the Angelites. He’d even been an Angel for five centuries. In the early days, there had been a rumour that in the last millennia, an Angel called Cilium, had been sacrificed for the sake of the myth but he had never heard proof of such a thing. Though would I? The council of Angelites would never allow the truth out. If he went along with the situation, would he or their kind be any better than the evil they sort to eliminate on Earth.
Lizzy, he’d always known was different and now he knew why. Perhaps those above him knew, had always known, she was special, which was why she’d never been placed in stasis and reborn again. No one that he’d ever encountered, had had as many mentors and been allowed to remain an Angel. Perhaps it was her calculating attitude when the evil of mankind threatened the innocent and she remained objective, but passive to the pain of their loss. Maybe, if he tried again with the council he could convince them that Marion Thomas wasn’t a pawn that they could sacrifice for some greater plan. Or, at the very least, they could allow her to be reborn again.
Perhaps Lizzy was right and he did need to retire from all this and finally accept a new life with the living. Maybe he’d even connect once more with the souls of his deceased family. If you were exemplary in your tasks, until now he’d been that, they did that sometimes. That was the cusp of it all the real question in his mind and yet answer all rolled into one.
Until now.
*
Marion Thomas felt better than she had in the two years since her friend Penelope’s murder. She had secured a part time job at the local newspaper as a columnist for the local community page. Despite the low pay, she felt, as a voice of the community, she could do something worthwhile with her life. The disability of her injury had forced her to review her options and she had. She spent the rest of her free time at the local women’s shelter helping the kids there acquire computer skills for it was a helping hand to the future. She too had a future. Penelope’s death had hit her harder than she could ever have imagined. Grief was an immobilizing emotion more intense than the physical disability she accepted as part of her life.
Marion left her apartment, just as the phone began to ring. She checked her watch, saw it was a quarter after one and knew she was already late for her daily visit to the woman’s shelter. Should she or shouldn’t she answer? The click of her answer machine had her locking the door. She’d take the call later. It isn’t as if I’m expecting anyone to call.
Five minutes later, she was walking in the sunshine, the warmth of the afternoon late spring sun, heated up her cheeks as she ambled as fast as she could towards the refuge. Checking the street for any sign of a vehicle, she began to the cross the road. In that area of town, it wasn’t that busy and there were no pedestrian crossings. Her slow progress had her constantly vigilant when encountering a road to cross. She knew deep down that it wasn’t likely anyone would run her over. The virtually empty road was generous on both sides with plenty of room to go around her.
A roaring noise was the first sign something wasn’t right. In a split second her sense of well-being was gone as the lights suddenly went out in an explosion of excruciating pain.
*
“Lizzy, I need you.”
There was only silence to the request.
“Lizzy, for God’s sake, wake up. I need you active-now!”
Elizabeth Jackson woke groggily and not as she usually did—gently, and at her own speed. Her senses literally yanked to top speed to where she was conscious.
“Bloody hell, Digby. Was that necessary?” Elizabeth felt her head for any after effect of the jolt of energy that had brought her back from the dead sleep. It was fortunate for her that Angels didn’t suffer the mortal maladies of human beings. Even so, the disorientation it caused her inner mind was not to be sneezed at.
“Yes, it was, Lizzy. Marion, is in danger. Grave danger.”
Elizabeth flexed her shoulder muscles and moved her neck several times. “Okay I assume this Marion person has asked for our help. Where and when?”
Digby let out his favourite sound—a snort. He had many versions and this one best described as a version of a raging bull, “Marion Thomas. Don’t give me all that guff that you don’t recall her. We both know that isn’t true.”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I remember the woman. Here case is filled as complete. How many chances does she want? Better yet, why is she in a dangerous situation again? Didn’t she learn to stay clear of murdering maniacs after her friend died?”
“She did. You know it even though you won’t admit it. However, we haven’t time for that. Marion needs you now. In fact, I’m hoping you won’t be too late to help her.”
“Digby, did she ask for help or is this another of your intuitive visions? We almost got caught out last time and I’m not willing to chance it again.” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and waited in a belligerent stance.
“Please, Lizzy, allow yourself to look beyond that stoic smokescreen you put up as a barrier between every entity, and see what I see.”
Elizabeth drew her eyebrows upwards in serious thought. “Now that is a contravention of the rules, Digby. The council seriously doesn’t allow that kind of fraternization. Just point me in the right direction and I’ll save the girl again. This is her last get out of gaol free card, okay.”
Digby quietly replied, “Yes.”
“Go for it then.” Elizabeth allowed the connection of her energy with Digby’s as he fed her the details.
*
In a split second, Elizabeth was gone and found herself at the hospital. Hospitals she’d found over the century had moved on in saving lives, but at the same time still held that stench of death and despair. She hated hospitals. The Grand Mercy General wasn’t any different. Elizabeth allowed her senses to pick up the conversations going on in front of her as she saw the broken and bleeding body of a woman in the ER.
A police officer was talking on the phone in the corridor next to the ER room Elizabeth was watching. “Hit and run, Sarg. The guy who hit her was coming down the street on the wrong side of the road. A drunk, he was killed outright when the car hit a brick wall. Doctor says she’s barely alive and is doubtful of a recovery. Yep, I’ll wait until I know for sure.”
Elizabeth’s energy moved to the woman lying crumbled and broken as doctors and nurses tried to revive her. “Digby, might have left it too late for me to revive her.” watched the situation until she realised that she shouldn’t be here. They never interfered with accident victims. She least of all since her area of expertise was solely the element of water. “What the bloody hell is wrong with, Digby? Why does he have a connection with this woman.”
“I don’t, Lizzy, you do. You can’t let her die. Particularly as the council made this happen.”
Digby’s statement had Elizabeth doing a mind flip. “What do you mean the council made this happen? It was a hit and run. The bluebottle on the beat just said so. Besides, the man who made it happen is dead. Simple, accidental death to me, or, will be. I can feel her life force ebbing away.”
“I want you to see what I see, Elizabeth.”
“You never call me, Elizabeth. Are you serious, Digby?”
“Yes.”
Elizabeth cautiously replied, “Okay, but I only want to see the pertinent facts for this particular case, not the rest of your baggage or we’ll be here in limbo for the next century.”
“Actually it’s three, but who’s counting. Open up your mind for me, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth dropped her guard and allowed Digby to interact directly with her Angelic soul.
*
Marion was about to leave her apartment, just as the phone began to ring, checking her watch is a quarter after one she was already late for her daily visit to the refuge centre. Should she or shouldn’t she answer, the click of her answer machine had her about to lock the door, she’d take the call later. It wasn’t as if she was expecting anyone to call. Then she remembered the advertisement for the flatmate. As fast as her legs would take her, she reached the phone and she said, “Hi, I’m here.”
Leaning against the wall as she took the call she noted down the particulars of the woman who had called and was interested in her apartment. Marion then ended the conversion. Dialling a familiar number, she apologetically said she couldn’t make the afternoon session at the shelter as something important had come up. She’d be there tomorrow for sure.
As she ended that call the outer doorbell rang and perplexed, she answered it and the same voice that had shown interest in the apartment asked to come into the building.
A few minutes later, Marion opened her door to a woman who she was sure looked vaguely familiar. “Hi, that was quick. Were you waiting at the street corner or something?” Marion grinned and allowed the woman to step into the apartment.
“Something, like that.”
“I wasn’t sure on the phone, but you’re English right?”
“What gave it away? My polite demeanour or another facet completely different.”
Marion wasn’t sure if the woman was teasing her but when she saw a twinkle in the woman’s cornflower blue eyes, she knew she was. “The accent. Are you staying in the US for a while or just for a short time?”
“As long as it takes. Let me reassure you I’ll pay the first six months in advance and sign a bond if you believe it necessary.”
The eyes scorched into Marion’s soul. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling and was somewhat familiar. “I wasn’t worried...well maybe a little. I was thinking that if it was short term, as in three months, it might not be a good option for me. I need someone on a longer basis if possible. Do you have references?”
“Yes.”
Marion wondered if this she would be able to live together amicably with the woman. Warm and fuzzy were not words she’d use to describe the woman. Maybe that was the English for you—she hadn’t met any in person before. She watched lots of TV shows with English actors in them, but never met a true English person in the flesh. “Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living? We might not be compatible ...as in working hours etc.”
“I have independent means. In conventional terms, I don’t work. I’m more of an ageing student.”
Marion chuckled. “Hardly ageing. To me, you look no more than mid to late twenties.” Marion saw what she’d describe as a cynical, twist of the lips. “Sorry, just an observation. If you are a student, what do you study? If you don’t mind me asking?” Marion was certain there was a bristling effect in the room at her question.
The woman answered, “Social studies. It covers a variety of situations. Will you show me the room please? If you agree I’d like to move in tomorrow.”
“Wow. Tomorrow. I didn’t think...sure of course.” Surprised and embarrassed, Marion waved the woman forward and showed her around the apartment.
Fifteen minutes later, she closed the door on the possible flatmate and sighed heavily. With her back lent against the door, she gazed at the business card in her hand. The neat script on the back of the card indicated a bank as a referee along with a contact at the local University. The English woman’s words were as she handed Marion the card, ‘If you feel it prudent to consider me as a candidate to share the apartment you may contact these numbers.’
She’d had the advertisement in the local newspaper for a month and although there were a few people interested, none had been suitable. In a way, she wasn’t sure that this woman was whom she wanted as a flatmate, but she couldn’t keep paying the rent on her own any longer. She stared vacantly at the card before she flipped it over and looked at the name. Once again, that familiar sensation came over her and she puckered her brow deep in thought. Even the name seemed familiar somehow yet she was sure she’d never met the woman before. Marion drew in a deep breath and nodded. “Okay, you’re the best candidate I’ve had in a while. What can it hurt to give it a shot if you’re references work out, Elizabeth Jackson.” With the decision made, she picked up the phone to call the referees right there and then.
*
Elizabeth stood outside the apartment of Marion Thomas contemplating why she’d agreed to do what she was doing. It was going to be interesting—no bloody damn hard. She mentally tried to reach Digby and failed once again. Since she’d intervened at the hospital and turned back time, her connection with Digby had gone silent. Not only that, but her ability to shift time had been taken away. She was alone at this place and time for as long as it took to see this woman safely to a non-interference death. Digby it seemed, had sacrificed all that he was for this to transpire and having read his thoughts on the subject and his apparent discussion with the council she was somewhat surprised. He gave up being able to reunite with his soul family. For what? A human, who is, in my opinion simply ordinary. Marion Thomas wasn’t going to shake the world up with any invention or discovery that would be beneficial to this world. In fact, the woman didn’t even have a decent job. There was no way she could pay her way in this world without having to find a flatmate. That being said, the information Digby had imparted about the council and their sense of justice wasn’t right either. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place and if it hadn’t been for Digby’s sacrifice, she’d not have given this venture a second thought.
One thing she knew, Digby had been incorrect about no definitive connection between her and Marion Thomas. Her angelic senses would have told her. Strangely enough, she had no feelings for the woman. At times, it was hard to read her thoughts and actions. Elizabeth chalked that up to another aspect of her powers that were no longer as strong. Still, she intended to keep her promise to Digby and see it through. What’s another forty odd years in one place? It would definitely be a change of pace. To all intents and purposes, whatever she had left of her angelic life force was wholly committed to keeping the council from harming Marion Thomas. Anything else...well that was the cards dealt to Marion. Just as Elizabeth’s had been over a century ago. Earthly fate was still something that the Angelites. had yet to be totally in controlled of. Perhaps it never will.
Her phone rang. “Thank you for your speedy decision. I’ll move in tomorrow, Ms. Thomas. I’ll see you bright and early.”
Elizabeth allowed a shadow of a smile to cross her lips as she placed her phone in her pocket.
