Chapter 12
Finally Suzanne saw the welcoming gates of the hospital just ahead, saw the wandering pedestrians and meandering drivers looking for somewhere to park. She pulled the car at speed through the corner, balancing between the need for caution and the more pressing need to be at her daughter's side. She drove past the parking area across the juddering speed humps straight up towards the main entrance which was the closest access point to Emily's room. The sound of the police car was still wailing in the distance behind and judged by the increasing volume, was rapidly closing in on them. Suzanne pressed her car on again at gathering speed, squealing up towards the entrance before braking heavily as her destination was finally achieved. The car skidded to a juddering halt but not before mounting the footpath and grazing the edge of a rubbish skip that had been left precariously just a few metres from the entrance. As she turned off the engine and looked up, Suzanne noticed the 'No Parking' sign just over where her car sat balanced half on the road, half on the footpath but it was good enough. Alexander did not wait; he leaped from the car and rushed round to the driver's side. Taking Suzanne's arm he dragged her after him up the entrance steps.
"Which way, which way." He called
"Straight ahead... the last door on the right... Room 12." She gasped.
Alexander let go of Suzanne's arm and sprinted up the corridor. Suzanne was still dressed for work in heels and a tight skirt and was hardly equipped for sprinting but she did her best to keep up.
Mason heard the sound of running feet along the corridor, he could hardly imagine that it was anything to concern him but he turned towards the door for an instant. The protective cover from the needle had already been removed and he had just pressed the sharp point against the intravenous bag when the door burst open and Alexander fell into the room gasping and out of breath. Seeing what was about to happen, he lunged at Mason with a scream of anger that came from deep within his being.
"Stop that you bastard."
With flailing arms and more luck than dexterity, he knocked the syringe from the murderer's gloved fingers. It was a triumph of passion over competence as Alexander was in no way a match for John Mason who had been momentarily unbalanced by Alexander's precipitous entrance. Almost at the same moment a security guard burst into the room. With his army style leather boots and navy blue jumper, with swinging identity tag round his neck, he looked the part. But looks can be deceptive. On the wrong side of fifty with burgeoning plumpness, the security officer was not used to action, his duties mostly involved making his quietening presence known and occasionally escorting malleable, if rowdy, inebriates from the premises on busy weekends. Confronted by the two men he found himself ill equipped and unsure of which one to try and constrain. The message he had been given had hardly alerted him of any prospect of danger:
It's probably just a hoax call Raymond but just slip along to Artemis ward and see if there's anything amiss in Room 12.
He was certainly not expecting to have to engage in a fight. John Mason had already decided to speedily withdraw, his mission would have to be temporarily aborted. With a single blow he felled Alexander, the punch was delivered, mid chest, with enough force to briefly incapacitate the stranger without causing any lasting harm. Alexander, who was by no means a fighting man, doubled up and was caught briefly unable to breathe. He sank to his knees and turned his eyes to the security guard. He was of heavier build than Alexander but posed little difficulty to Mason. As the man rushed him, Mason side stepped his swinging fist, caught Raymond's arm in a lock and then with minimum force, chopped the side of his neck. The guard fell momentarily stunned, his overweight frame hitting the floor with a muffled thud and a gasp of wheezy exhaled air. John Mason made his rapid exit from the room, face covered with a hastily retrieved cap having already picked up the dropped syringe. He walked along the busy corridor at a brisk but normal pace with his head lowered while making the syringe safe again in its tube. Merging seamlessly into a group of animated visitors he passed a woman who was slithering along the corridor in stockinged feet, her shoes clutched precariously in her hands. She did not notice the man the in the leather jacket, her focus was desperately held on getting to her daughter.
What caught Mason's attention was the sprinting policeman. Tall, mid twenties, the man looked fit and potentially a threat. The retreating assassin prepared to defend himself but he suspected that the sprinting policeman's interest lay elsewhere. The policemen was gaining on Suzanne again and it had now become a matter of personal pride for him not to let the dangerous driver escape. Mason crouched to supposedly retie his shoe lace. A position from which he could readily launch an effective counter attack should that be necessary. It was not. The policeman took no notice whatsoever of the crouching man as he slithered up the polished floor of the corridor. Mason slipped away unnoticed through the entry and vanished into the afternoon bustle.
Suzanne finally caught up and burst into Emily's room not knowing what to expect. Despite the urgency she could still not really comprehend what any of this had been about, but on sinking by the side of Emily's bed she saw that her daughter appeared to be unharmed. She still seemed to be sleeping peacefully, still in her coma but now she was breathing without any assistance. Suzanne looked across to Alexander.
"Are you all right?"
"There was this guy, he had a syringe..."
"Oh my god Alexander... What happened?"
"There was a bit of a tussle... but I managed to stop him injecting whatever it was."
"It was that close... If we'd got here just slightly later... Her eyes flooded with tears, tears of relief. She held out her hand to Alexander and he moved closer and took it. "Thank you Alexander, thank you so much... I still don't understand how you knew about this but I think you've just saved my daughter's life."
She had more to say, a thousand questions to ask but her words were cut short as the policemen burst into the room. Suzanne looked up at him with her eyes still full of trembling emotion. The officer saw the prostrate guard the anguished woman crouched by the young woman's bedside. He assumed they were mother and daughter and quickly took the view that what he had been drawn into was much more than a simple traffic violation. There may have been scant excuse for the way the woman had been driving but he could see that there had clearly been a good reason. He held up his arms in a signal that he posed no threat, that he had some sort of an understanding of the situation. He turned away and made a call for back-up. There was soon a presence of nurses and doctors on the scene. The security guard who had taken a heavier blow than Alexander was quickly taken care of by the medical staff. Alexander, who was now mostly recovered from his brief encounter with John Mason, stood over Emily. Her mother was holding her hand, looking relieved but still confused about the events of the afternoon. All she was certain of was that Emily was safe and from her perspective, little else mattered.
Alexander's breath was taken away again by the sight of Emily in her hospital bed. There was absolutely no doubt that this pale fragile woman was the muse he had grown to know so well but now made flesh and blood. It was a shock to see her as a real person but also an indescribable joy. In her pallor she was truly beautiful to his eyes and overcome by the desperate emotions of the past hour, could not help bending over the unconscious woman and tenderly kissing her lips.
Emily's ghostly incarnation had returned to the garden and made her way to the now nebulous membrane desperately hoping that Alexander would get there in time. She was vaguely aware of a man in the room but could not tell what he was doing, could do nothing to help herself. Then there had been the sound of fighting, followed by the sound of her mother's voice. What followed next was hard for her to describe, it was the most exquisite moment in her life that jolted her out of her private universe for ever. It was like a powerful but painless electric jolt arching through her entire being, pulling the fragmented parts back into a coherent whole. Once again she found herself turned inside out; her consciousness was suddenl
y shocked into animation by the emotion of nothing more profound than a kiss. The membrane shattered into a million shards of scintillating nothingness and the living breathing Emily Wilcox was back in the world.
As Alexander's kiss fell on her lips, as their breath mingled and the warmth of their skin touched, the sleeping woman's eyes suddenly opened. Awakened from a deep sleep as if she had been an incarnation of some sleeping beauty from a half remembered childhood fairytale.
Emily had opened her eyes, and everything had changed again. The memory of herself as an apparition had evaporated as if none of it had ever happened, her last memory was of slowly cantering across the fields on Juno's back, a misty day filled with contentment and happy expectation. Suddenly she was thrust back in the real word, the world where ghosts do not exist. The world where she did not know, and had never met anyone by the name of Alexander Havers.
"Emily, darling you're awake..." Suzanne was trapped between panic and ecstasy as she struggled to believe what she was seeing.
"Mum... where am I... what's happened?" Emily's words were slurred but distinct enough.
"It's all right darling, you're safe. You have been unwell but now you're safe again."
Emily looked up at Alexander, she saw kindness in his eyes... maybe something more than that. It tugged for an instant at her fragile emotions but was soon lost as she gazed at a face she simply did not know. Instead of the recognition that Alexander had hoped for, he was shocked to see only bewilderment in her expression. Despite everything they had shared, she no longer even knew who he was. The realisation hit Alexander like another punch and he fell back against the wall stunned into silence.
Emily's doctor had been crouched examining the security guard, checking for signs of concussion. The man seemed to be fine, if a little shocked but would need to rest. The doctor's attention was suddenly diverted by Suzanne's excited voice.
"Doctor Partington... It's Emily, she awake."
The doctor quickly pulled the curtain screen around his patient's bed and excluded everyone except Suzanne from her room. Alexander found himself shifted from the centre of the action to the periphery. There were by now a group of police officers taking statements but even they appeared uninterested in him. Suzanne was understandably occupied with her daughter and no longer had need of his help. His mood had shifted from extreme anxiety and nervous excitement through a transient moment of joy to sudden and total deflation. He was left feeling like an uninvited guest at a party. As was his nature, never wanting the limelight, he sidled away unnoticed, left the hospital and took a taxi back to the cottage.
The cottage was unchanged, still as inviting as it had ever been but now it was empty. His eyes scanned the rooms and the garden but he knew he would no longer find his muse. In saving Emily, he had killed his Moon goddess, his Artemis, the one who had been at his side through every stage in the creation of their book. He opened his laptop and read the prose that she had gifted to him and grieved for her until the afternoon turned to evening and the lights of a car flashed along the narrow, hedge lined, lane and stopped outside the cottage. A police detective knocked on the door, he simply wanted to hear Alexander's version of the events. Alexander had expected that he would be questioned but found that he had little enthusiasm for constructing a believable explanation of the events that had unfolded on that momentous day. Whatever he told them, short of lying, was likely to have him certified and committed to an institution.
He invited the detective in offered him a seat, which he accepted, and a cup of tea which he declined.
"Now sir, you are Mr Alexander Havers?"
"Yes that's right."
"Could you tell me in your own words what happened this afternoon?"
"Well I knew that Emily Wilcox was in danger, someone was trying to kill her. I called her mother and we drove to the hospital. I was able to stop the killer who ran off and then the policeman arrived... I guess you must know the rest."
"The difficulty we have sir, is that you are the only witness who claims to have seen this anonymous killer."
"What about the security guard? He must have seen him."
"I'm afraid the security guard is under the impression that it may have been you who hit him, he claims not to have seen anyone else."
"But he was knocked unconscious..."
"Exactly sir." He looked at Alexander with an unsettling expression.
"We also are having some difficulty in understanding how you knew that Miss Wilcox was in danger in the first place."
"Err... It was just a sixth sense, I just had a feeling."
"You had a feeling that a young woman you had never met was in danger. And you just happened to know her mother."
"Yes."
"I think you can appreciate that your explanation appears a little incomplete sir. I wonder if you would accompany me to the station. This matter really needs to be followed up in greater detail."
"Are you arresting me?"
"No sir, not at this stage, but we would appreciate your cooperation in helping us with our enquiries."
Alexander found himself in a dingy formal interview room. There were two officers, both detectives. The senior was a man of forty years, a sergeant with a world weary look in his eyes. Alexander felt that whatever he said, this man had probably heard it before and would automatically assume it to be a lie until there was some independent evidence to support it. His colleague was a young woman constable, still fresh faced and as naive as she was eager. Alexander had a dilemma. If he told the police the truth as he understood it, they would either not believe him or assume that he was in need of psychiatric care. Either option was not what Alexander wanted. If he chose to lie then he could start digging a hole for himself from which there may be no way out.
"Now sir, you understand that the interview is being recorded?"
"Yes."
"I wonder, now that you have had time to consider your position, if you feel able to clarify what happened earlier this afternoon."
"What I told you earlier was the truth. I can't explain how it happened, but there was some, I don't know... Let's call it a telepathic link to the woman in the hospital. She told me that she was in danger, she told me who she was but not where she was... So I called her mother and we rushed together to the hospital. Suzanne Wilcox was the agent from the agency that arranged my lease on the cottage "
"And the cottage actually belongs to Emily Wilcox?"
"I discovered that later, but yes."
"Go on Mr Havers."
"When I got into Emily's room, there was a man, clearly not a medic, who had a syringe of what I assumed to be poison and I managed to knock it from his hands before he could use it. Then he punched me, hit the security guard and left. That's all I really know."
"And who was this man with the poison?"
"I have no idea, I have never seen him before, I honestly just don't know."
"And this syringe of poison... What became of that?"
"The man hit me and I was out of action for a moment. I can only assume that he took it with him."
"And can you offer any motive for the attack sir?"
"No none at all."
"Would you be able to recognize this man if you saw him again?"
"I really don't think so he was just average looking sturdy, my height. It all happened so fast, I only got a quick glimpse of him. Believe me sergeant, I want this man behind bars as much as you do... more so. Look we were chased most of the way by a patrol car, the police driver must be able to confirm that we had only just arrived at the room."
"We have Constable Thatcher's evidence... We still feel, there's something you are not telling us Mr Havers."
Alexander shook his head.
"We have spoken briefly to Miss Wilcox, and she claims not to know who you are and that she certainly did not warn you that she was in danger."
"OK I have to accept that but, apart from the dangerous driving, and the assault on the security guard, there has been no crim
e committed. What do you want from me? I have told you all I know. Unless you have some evidence against me..."
"We just want the truth, Mr Havers and I don't feel we have heard it yet."
The officers left the room and then a few minutes later the young woman constable returned.
"You are free to go Mr Havers, at this stage there are no charges we wish to bring against you at present."
What they did not reveal to Alexander was that the security footage, which had just been viewed, clearly showed that another man had been in Emily's room; in fact what it showed clearly corroborated everything that Alexander had told them about the events in Room 12. The man caught on the security camera however, was not clearly visible and could not be identified. It was clear to the police that the actions of Alexander Havers had no overt criminal intent and had almost certainly saved the young woman's life . His fanciful explanation of what had happened was clearly an attempt to conceal something, but at this stage that appeared to be his own business and they had more important enquiries to worry about than a young man's dalliances with a comatose girl.
Alexander turned away from the offer of a ride home and took a taxi back to the cottage. As he walked through the familiar door, he felt that he could no longer call it home. The cottage seemed empty without his muse and Emily would soon have need of it herself. He had taken the lease on the understanding that he may have to leave on short notice but the events had unwrapped themselves so suddenly that he was cast into a depression by the situation he now found himself in. He tried to eat some leftover pasta. Slightly charred from inattentive stirring, he found that he had little appetite. As he sat at the table with his head in his hands, he realised that their book with Emily's significant contribution was the only tangible evidence that he now had of their time together. The past months of shared companionship had simply vanished as if they had never existed.
Although Emily had been brought back to life and Alexander could never for an instant regret that, she was lost to him, dead to him. He stumbled to his bed with an empty feeling. It should have been a day to look back on with pleasure, the day he had saved Emily's life. Instead it had left him as a person of interest in a crime in which his part had been completely innocent.
The next morning he was woken by a phone call from Suzanne. Her mood was the opposite of Alexander's. She had been given the gift of her daughter's life, pulled back from the abyss. She wanted to thank Alexander for what he had done the day before, but more than that she wanted to know how he had known about the danger that Emily was in:
"So Alexander I still have no understanding of how you knew about what was happening, or why anyone would want to hurt Emily."
"Can you come to the cottage Suzanne? I'll try to explain, but it's a story that you will have trouble believing. I can hardly believe that any of it it happened myself."
A short time later they sat together in Emily's cottage drinking coffee and eating doughnuts that Suzanne had brought. Alexander told her his perspective of the events of the past winter months. Suzanne fell silent as Alexander told his tale. It was not an account that made sense to either of them but Suzanne, unlike the police, chose to believe everything that Alexander told her. How else could he have known about Emily unless she was somehow there with Alexander?
"Thank you for telling me all this Alexander... It rather clarifies your early concerns about poltergeists. I can see it was as strange to you as it sounds to me. I've talked to Emily and she remembers very little of her time in the coma. The memories may come back in time... She does remember dreaming about the cottage but nothing else yet. The cottage was always a special place for her... Maybe in her coma she managed to find a way to get home, back to the place that she loves." Suzanne took Alexander's hand and could see that he was as confused about what had happened as she was. "I feel that the world has many mysteries which we may never be able to make sense of Alexander, we just have to accept that this is one of those strange things that does does not fit in with our understanding of how the world works." Suzanne held her daughter's saviour in a long embrace and then before she became overcome with emotion left him alone to face the silence and solitude.
He still found the cottage a pleasant enough place to be living in, but it was no longer as welcoming as it has been. He had no hope, now that Emily was recovered, that he would ever see her apparition again and accepted that he may simply be destined to spend his life alone. His promise to Emily that he would save her and that they would be together again was only half fulfilled. The memories bound up in the cottage were now painful to him and offered no comfort. It was with sadness that he booted up his computer, and instead of working on his novel, started a search for rooms to let. At least he still had the book, a joint effort between himself and Emily which he could finish and cherish. The Kiss of the Moon would keep Emily's memory alive for him for the rest of his days; until perhaps the Sun and Moon might finally kiss somewhere close to the edge of eternity.
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