Copyright© 2012 Angharad
All Rights Reserved.
I homed in on the tiny pulse of blue which answered by search; it was like a beacon flashing weakly in an ocean of darkness; a lost soul in purgatory.
I tried to infuse it with the energy I had with me, but something was stopping me and I didn’t know what. I was sure that Trish was alive but that she was unconscious and that her situation was anything but good—in fact it felt as if her position was very precarious and that time was against me.
I tried to speak to her soul—yeah okay, scientific it ain’t, but you get my drift. She’s unconscious but even then we can respond sometimes, even if it’s only mind to mind stuff—but I seemed unable to speak to her, either she was in a situation where her mind couldn’t hear me or something was preventing me. Either way, I felt very anxious and frustrated. It’s like she was behind a wall and I knew she was there but I couldn’t see, hear or reach her.
I withdrew a little and asked the light to help me protect and recover one its servants, which Trish is—I find a conciliatory approach is most helpful in achieving a positive outcome.
The blue light gave way to a white and then a brilliant golden light manifested before me. “Why do you call us?”
“I need your help.”
“To do what?”
“To save my daughter.”
“And why should we help, when you’ve rejected us in the past?”
“For mercy’s sake, we’re talking about an eight year old child, who is also a vehicle for your healing light.”
“She is one of my handmaidens?”
“Yes, milady.” I tried to keep calm, if the seething I felt inside manifested itself I’d be left on my own and I’d have wasted even more time.
“Very well then, how do you want us to help?”
“I feel she is in great peril and that time is short to save her. I know she is on board a ship and unconscious, probably hurt. Please keep her alive and allow me to locate her so I can direct people to rescue her.”
“And what will you do for us in return?”
“Tell me what you want me to do?”
“I’ll do it.”
“This is your promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
“You will be held to your word.”
“My word is my bond, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“How befitting a noble’s wife.”
“Please, time is getting short.”
“All you humans are obsessed with time.”
It comes of being finite you dumb...
“Catherine, your deference is preferable to your insolence.”
“Here she is,” the light vanished and I found myself stooping over a tiny body at the bottom of an iron ladder which felt very near the bottom of the ship—it was damp, no wet here—could I be in the bilges or very near them. Something hummed in the distance, a pump—bloody hell—what was she doing down there?
I couldn’t touch her, when I tried my hand went through her body—I was essentially just an energy form linking with her. I realised as I thought about it, she must be just above the bilge because that’s full of water amongst other noxious substances and the humming seemed to come from beneath the floor.
I had no idea which end of the ship I was in—the sharp end or the blunt one—what do they call it bows and stern or some such thing. I’m a landlubber and quite happy with my lot.
I felt myself being drawn away from her as the ship began to move and I realised the ferry was sailing out of the port.
“Are you all right?” asked Simon as I came back to our hotel in France.
“She’s fallen down a ladder, she’s on the ferry near the bilges.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I saw her there, she’s unconscious but still alive.”
Simon speed dialled Henry. He relayed what I’d seen. “Well get after it.”
“The ferry has sailed and Dad’s not on it, they did a search of where they thought she could be and they couldn’t find her.”
“So what’s he going to do?”
“He’s contacting the police, but he doesn’t think they’re going to believe him.”
“They have to—um tell him to tell the chief of police that his wife’s misconceived, she’s got a problem with her fallopian tube, the right one—tell him that’s what the pain is and she needs to see her doctor urgently.”
“Okay, I’ll try it.” He spoke to Henry and while he was doing so, I called reception from the room phone.
“Hello, it’s Lady Cameron room 67.”
“Yes, Lady Cameron, ’ow can ’elp you?”
“I need to hire a private jet to fly to Menorca, immediately.”
“I don’t know if that is possible, madame.”
“Make it possible—I don’t care what it costs, just get me on a plane within the hour.” I put the phone down just as Simon finished talking to Henry.
“What was that all about?”
“I’ve asked them to arrange a jet to fly me to Menorca.”
“Us, get packing.”
I began flinging things into a case while Simon went down to reception, he came back up as I closed my case and zipped it up.
“The cab is waiting, the pilot’s on his way—this is costing a small fortune.”
“You value money more than one of our children?”
“No of course not.”
“I don’t care if we have to buy the friggin’ plane as long as it gets us to Menorca and saves Trish.”
“Dad’s chartered a helicopter, the copper went white when he told him about his wife. He said you must be a witch.”
“If I was I’d have got on my broomstick long since, c’mon, we’re wasting time.”
The taxi tore through the Parisian streets and all the excitement of Brad’s win had faded into the background as more pressing issues dominated my consciousness. The cabbie seemed to know where to go, as he drove the large Peugeot to a waiting executive jet and minutes later, after we explained what had happened, we were on board it and waiting for permission to taxi to the runway and take off.
It took two long hours before we landed at Mahon airport, and a further twenty minutes before we got through customs and into a cab to travel across the island to Ciutadella. Monica had taken the others to the villa and only Julie and Stella waited for us at the ferry port.
“Henry’s on the ferry with the chief of police. He was well impressed with your distant diagnosis—he phoned his wife and told her to go straight to hospital and demand to be examined. She didn’t even know she was pregnant. He’s going to phone as soon as they know something.”
“She was lying at the bottom of a ladder and it felt very low in the ship.”
“What was she doing there? No wonder they couldn’t find her, that’s off limits to passengers.”
“It’s Trish we’re talking about, remember?” I felt a chill in the air and shivered, I hoped they weren’t going to be too late. Simon noticed me shivering and wrapped his jacket round me and then put his arm around me and pulled me to him.
“She’s gonna be okay, I just know it,” he said though I think that might have been a bit of optimism to try and cheer me up.
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