(aka Bike) Part 882 by Angharad Copyright © 2010 Angharad
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I was waiting with Tom for what seemed like ages. Gareth’s Landcruiser turned into the drive and pulled up as close to the house as he could, Tom and I got into the car. I felt stupid, wrapped up in a coat with a hat and scarf pulled over my face; sun glasses completing the disguise. Mask might be a better descriptor; it was to hide my face from the waiting gang of paparazzi at the entrance to the drive.
I had spoken briefly to Gareth and he understood with minimum data–I liked him more than ever, apart from being drop-dead gorgeous, he had a brain. He also accepted what I told him without any questions, as if he already knew it or trusted me implicitly, or even thought it was irrelevant–maybe that was it, irrelevant, in which case he wasn’t such an atypical man.
The clowns with cameras flashed and attempted to delay our exit from the drive, one nearly got himself run over and another laughed saying, “Don’t worry she’ll fix you.”
I think there was more chance of finding oranges hanging off apple trees in the garden.
Once on the main road, I felt I could relax a little although Gareth suggested there could be a car following us. Because of the weather, I opted to wear the grey boots with the suit and blouse, though walking through the snow and ice to the car posed a small challenge and I was glad of Tom’s arm to steady my balance and reassure myself he was there for me.
“So why are all these imbeciles freezing their backsides off?” asked Gareth.
“I told you, they think I’m some sort of super healer.”
“Why would they think that?”
“I was at the hospital the same time as whoever this mysterious individual is.”
“Oh, you’re the one I saw on the website–now it makes sense.”
“What does?” Now it was I who was confused.
“Well it had two photos, one of the dormouse down your dress and the other of you in a Wonder Woman outfit–it was obviously photo-shopped because Wonder Woman was a bit more endowed in the breast department.”
“Linda Carter, I expect,” I replied, “Oh how I wanted to be her years ago.”
“I think you’re actually prettier,” said Gareth.
“Aye, sae dae I,” agreed Tom nodding to emphasise the point.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but she was a very beautiful woman in those days, I was still a sort of boy.”
“I don’t believe you, Cathy,” challenged Gareth, “no one as beautiful as you, was ever a boy.”
“Aye, Simon, says thae same.”
“Anyway what was the point of the two photos of from this to this?”
“Oh that’s my fault, the idiot guy from the Echo suggested I was Superman and I don’t think he meant in a Shavian sense. I don’t know if it was a slip of the tongue or what, but that’s what he said, so I corrected him by saying I was Wonder Woman. It was meant as a joke–they took it to mean I was admitting to being the healing person.”
“Which you are, aren’t you?”
“I’m what?” I blushed, was I going to lie to him as well? “What makes you think that?”
“I had a hernia from trying to pull a tree root out of my garden back last summer. I shook hands with you and it tweaked like hell. By the time I left your house, it had healed itself.”
“How does that prove anything?” I was still blushing.
“Scientifically, it doesn’t, unless I could repeat the experiment with the same result. I couldn’t, because the hernia is gone. However, yesterday, I managed to cut myself while doing my impression of Jamie Oliver chopping veg, I chopped my left index finger and thumb instead.”
“Were you doing a finger salad?” I asked with feigned innocence.
“Oh, very good–but–um no, I wasn’t. However, the cuts have healed miraculously–see?” he waved his hand in the air.
“So perhaps it’s Tom who healed you?” I tried to throw in a rather weak red herring.
“No, Tom and I have met before and spent some time together the day I came to meet you. I still had the hernia then.”
I sighed loudly and pouted. Why doesn’t anyone believe me when I lie?
“Look, Cathy, I’m not going to tell anyone, I feel we have enough problems keeping the Pirates of Penzance off our treasure–but thanks, I feel great without that annoyance in my pants.”
“That’s how I felt prior to surgery,” I said off-handedly.
“You what?” he gasped and Tom was chortling.
“Oh nothing,” I blushed again–me and my big mouth.
I took off the sun glasses, it wasn’t really sunny but it at least made it feel like daylight. I noticed Gareth looking at me in the rear view mirror, I pretended not to notice, at the same time I undid the overcoat I was wearing–it was getting quite warm in the car–or I was having a hot flush, perhaps both.
“When did you have the surgery?” he asked.
“A year or so ago, why?”
“I just wondered–I honestly cannot imagine how anyone could possibly want to have that done. Eeewww,” he said pulling a face.
“Think of it as having a noxious growth removed.”
“But it isn’t is it? It’s a functioning piece of kit.”
“I prefer the modified version, an innie instead of an outie.”
“I’m sure you do, but sooner you than me. Couldn’t you have used your miraculous healing powers to spontaneously change your outie into an innie?”
“No, to start with I wasn’t aware of having any such skills. Secondly, it only heals what’s damaged.”
“I’ve just had a silly thought, like you go and have surgery and when the surgeon comes around to check, it’s all grown back again–a sort of groundhog day scenario.”
I shivered, “Perhaps that’s why this thing didn’t happen to me until I was beyond that stage?”
“Whit aboot Trish, she’s got some skills in healing tae.”
“Oh don’t go there, Daddy, it doesn’t bear thinking about. Poor Trish, she’d be beside herself and so would I, for her.”
“So Trish has inherited your powers? That’s interesting, given she’s your foster daughter.”
“I know, but the energy finds what it needs–from patients to healers. It chooses you, not the other way round.”
“So, is this spiritual healing?”
“As an agnostic–I have a problem with that particular term.”
“That’s what I thought. Is this God’s revenge?”
“Don’t even go there,” I cautioned.
“Okay, okay. We’re here folks, do you want me to drop you off and then go and park?”
“No the fresh air will do us good,” I said on both Tom and my own behalf.
We walked to the university building, not on the main campus, but in the biological sciences building, which was part of a smaller campus near the harbour. We all walked together, me carrying my laptop, the case of which was stuffed with files, and my handbag. Tom was laden with a large briefcase bulging at the seams and Gareth had a box file under his arm.
“You look every bit the celebrity,” Gareth said to me.
I laughed, “Don’t be daft, I’m a poor working girl.”
“Whose husband happens to be a duke and own a bank–yeah, poor working girl.”
“Simon isn’t a duke, his dad is only a viscount.”
“Sorry, milady,” he began walking backwards and bowing. Tom was roaring with laughter.
“But look at you, fur trimmed coat and hat.”
“It’s fake fur,” I countered.
“So, it still makes you look a million dollars.”
“No, it keeps me warm.”
“It shows off your figure.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”
“And that suit–that is absolutely beautiful–like its wearer.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Gareth Sage, no matter how many doctorates you have.”
“I know, and I’m glad to hear it.”
Just to confuse him I put my arm in his.
“However, I might still be open to offers,” he said winking at me. Tom looked scornfully at me until I poked my tongue out at him and he knew I was fooling.
We ascended in the lift and a few yards down from there, was a group of people standing around, it looked like someone was lying on the ground.
“What’s happened,” I asked.
“Some fool of a student ran into him pushing a trolley thing.” I worked my way to the front of the group and to my horror saw Perryman, lying groaning on the floor.
“Where does it hurt?” someone was asking.
“My legs, I can’t feel my legs,” he was sobbing.
I shivered–could I help him? Did I want to? Would they let me?
Comments
It's a setup
Perryman is going to do her evil and discredit her.
But earlier:
"—but thanks, I feel great without that annoyance in my pants.â€
“That’s how I felt prior to surgery,†I said off-handedly."
Thanks for the spit take ;-)
Agreed
But we shall see.
Now Cathy's healing spontaneously. If this goes on all she'll have to do lay hands on one of the masses.
Crikey! Cathy
You'll need the wisdom of Solomon to sort that one out! ( But i forgot, You don't believe in all that stuff do you!!)
Kirri
Wisdom
Oh, she definitely believes in wisdom.
And, if she waits long enough, maybe she'll get some. ;-)
Hung over the cliff again!
What an intriguing ethical dilemma for our heroine.
I'm so pleased that this tale has daily installments (aka fixes): I'd hate to have to wait a week to see what Cathy does next.
Whether healing happens or not, it would be good if Cathy is somehow able to obtain evidence of Perryman's perfidity.
Proving Suspicions
Bike Resources
Dilemma
Even if it isn't a setup, I'd say this is one occasion when it would be prudent to NOT use her healing powers. Even if it was someone other than Perryman, there's a small crowd surrounding him, who couldn't be prevented from blabbing to the media.
However, if she does feel the urge to heal, there may be one way to do so without arousing too much suspicion - remotely.
In the past she's attempted healing by just imagining the patient (over a year ago, over the phone from home to the hospital), and on one visit to a children's ward apparently improved the conditions of several patients without touching them.
So if her party continued walking until they were around the corner, just out of sight, she might be able to remotely heal Perryman without being physically present. If Perryman improves and Cathy's not in sight, as far as anyone in the crowd's concerned, she didn't heal him.
Extension: be utterly devious. Wait for professional medical assistance to arrive OR for one of the crowd to start moving him, THEN remotely heal while remaining out of sight.
--Ben
As the right side of the brain controls the left side of the body, then only left-handers are in their right mind!
Its opposite
Before seeing him in need she would probably have rather done him remote harm. But then there are her girls, if they got wind of her letting him come to harm out of maliscious indiference, what a mess she is in. I still feel he is setting her up. If not, and his injury were genuine then he'd use it as a tool rather than have a change of heart from the way Cathy suspects he really is. Ugh I will have to go have some sleepytime tea so I can go to sleep quickly and wake up and wait all day long for the next installment. Oh ghod I feel like I am perched on the edge of a cliff, oh wait, but I am, Angharad left me here!
Wuthering Dormice-882
If Perryman is faking it, will the blue light do something to teach him a lesson? Maybe give Perryman an innie, turn him into 'Perry woman, ;)
May Your Light Forever Shine
May Your Light Forever Shine
He sounds so much....
like my lung doctor (pulminologist for those of you wanting the fancy name). He had (has) trouble understanding how I could want to have something like that "fixed". *sighs* At least he's still treating me for my asthma, and doing a good job there.
Now Cathy has to wonder what to do about Perryman. Quite a quandary you've given her. My guess is, if needed, she'll help. The question then becomes will Perryman become "reformed" by the experience? Or will he continue to be a git? (Is that the right term/spelling? I'm trying to learn terms from the fur side of the pond.)
The byplay between Cathy and Gareth was quite humorous.
Thanks,
Annette
I'd say: Try to.
Yes, attempt to heal Perryman. After all,
Seems to me that goes for healers as well as patients.
If nothing comes off it, so much the better for countering press and publicity.
NOT* Trying to help, could ultimately lead to such negativity by admonishing herself and self-doubt that she'd loose the 'gift'. Which is a double-edged blessing if you ask me.
Indeed Cathy lives an interesting life.
I sincerely thank you Angharad for your continuous offering of fine reading, it's a returning daily joy.
Jo-Anne
*) Edit -some 7 hours later- : 'NOT trying to help' I mean. I forgot to add this crucial word. *stupid*
Love Cathy's wisdom on the energy
Although the talk of annoying things in pants is good, that's the key in this installment for me. Cathy knows that she can't choose exactly who to heal and what to do. I believe that she can't really resist the need to help someone if she can. I seem to remember her helping a criminal a while ago.
And the comment on the energy only heals what's broken. I still can't help but wonder if Cathy and Trish wouldn't view their physiology as broken enough to need healing. I keep expecting a little miracle with Trish after a long period of cuddling Cathy for some reason and 5 year olds, no mater how wise and mature beyond their years, need cuddling.
Oh wait!
Perryman is sick... mentally sick, he is into kiddy porn! Maybe she'll blue light that? But with a bad taste in his mouth so what gets him off always leaves him sick, so then he tries to sue her for taking away his perversion. No, don't think this is remotely going to work.
Maybe she can just make it turn black, wither and die? All dry and brittle and it just snaps off in his hand one morning?
Heal a rival?
If I was her I wouldn't. It would confirm what the Globe has been saying. She better bow out this time. I even feel Perryman is faking it and testing Cathy's power to torment her. If Cathy wants to stay out of the limelight, She needs to pass him up.
Also, with Perryman not there because he is being taken to the hospital, Cathy's group may win the money.
If Perryman is faking
there is nothing to heal and Cathy is at no risk at all. It's not like she tells everyone to stand aside as she chants and does weird hand motions. If he's faking, she'll know it.
Oh, Wow!
Now what does Cathy do? Fix the bastard up in front of everyone (and have the Southampton papparazzi after her, too) or let the bugger die? Don't you hate ethical decisions late at night? (It's after midnight, here -- well, there, too, I suppose!)
Thanks for the suspense, Ang! It only adds to the enjoyment!
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
x
Yours from the Great White North,
Jenny Grier (Mrs.)
Oh My
Does it ever end for her. She just might as well admit it and go on.
Hilltopper
the guy is unlikely to hurt
the guy is unlikely to hurt himself that much for a setup. so either it's fake or he'll be grateful afterwards.
Danger, Danger! Shoal! Ware shoal! Cry I!
Walk away Cathy. Just Walk away!
Beverly.
Yep
Just like telling the truth, it doesn't mean it has to be done ALL the time.
Perryman deserves to have his bottom crippled so he cannot go after more children. A just outcome.
Kim
Oh, the lines Bonzi comes up with.
"If he was on fire in the courtyard, I wouldn't piss on him to put him out", wonderful concept, however, I'd piss on him anyway.
If Cath wants to heal him, tell Perryman of the Urination Method. You know, the same thing GB said to the Rhodesians. Look how well it worked for them ! Sorry, my Bonzi kicked in.
Cefin