by Ben Oakley
Another conversation with Jess from that day jumped into my mind.
Relationship's going well, the plan's coming together, she had said.
I'd like to meet him one day.
I hope that day comes soon but if it doesn't, then you'll find me on the shoreline of a new ocean with a new life, a better life.
“A better life,” I said to myself. Drake had said a similar thing to me in Camden Square.
All we ever wanted is a better life for the both of us, on the shoreline of a new ocean in a better world.
I pulled my phone out my pocket and called home.
“Stansey, quickly – was Jennifer Cane ever married?”
“One moment!” I heard her scoff down a part of the sandwich. “Yeah, it looks like it, back five or six years ago.”
“What was her maiden name?”
“She was Jennifer Drake.”
“Thank you.” I hung up, sighed deeply and looked at the shimmering of the water on the surface of the canal.
Michael Drake was deadcalm1978, brother of Jennifer Cane.
Somehow, Drake and Jess had met each other and fallen in love again. Maybe they had found each other through the connection with Foster? Maybe it was on forums talking about the Blood Streams? Whenever and wherever they met, they must have realised they had been in Linden Psychiatric Hospital at the same time.
In a grim turn of fate, Foster thought he had killed Jess. Then Drake or Jess would have found it out when the news reports came in. Instead of going to the police themselves, they saw it as an opportunity – to disappear.
I phoned Berg, against my better wishes.
“Berg, where's Michael Drake?”
“Drake? Oh, he was discharged from the UCH two days ago, haven't heard from him since. What's he done now?”
“I'm not entirely sure he's done anything.”
I hung up again and put the phone back in my pocket again.
I was in a daze.
If they worked together to find out who had taken Jess and who had killed Drake's sister, then they would have amassed a large amount of research. They were working to find out who the killer was themselves and he was right there in front of them.
With Natalie's completely different look and Foster's disguise, both sides were unaware of who was in front of them.
They couldn't have been sure it was Foster, so instead of reporting him, they sent all the research to me to get him. Did they plan to elope all along? Was it the plan that Jess was always talking about with me?
“Where are you Jess?”
You'll find me on the shoreline of a new ocean with a new life, a better life.
They took an opportunity to rid themselves of the past and vanish without a trace, to live their lives the way they wished to. Unencumbered by rules, medical diagnoses and past lives. They wanted to escape their own personal Immortal Hour's and fly off to a new world and a new life.
But was it fate or choice? Would anyone really know if fate had made a choice for them or if they had made the choices for themselves?
They say love is written in the stars. In a strange twist of fate, Jess had finally found her salvation, with Drake, in anonymity.
I didn't blame them for disappearing like they had done. But I hoped to one day see Jess again – on the shoreline of her better world.
“Good luck, Jess,” I said to the skies, “good luck.”
Fifty Six
So then I made it to my destination. Where else was I going to go?
Little Venice, the bench closest to the water. There she was, head in a book, lost in a world of mystery and illusion. She had her bag beside her, full of snacks and a notepad full of observations about the world around her.
This was Miss Jameson's small world and I was a visitor, dropping by to offer my thanks. To repay the favour, the kindness and the assistance.
“Same spot?” I said as I approached the bench.
She noticed me and rested the book on her lap, “oh my dear, come take a seat. How are you?”
“I got stabbed a little bit, so I guess that's a talking point.”
“Oh my! Sit down, before you bleed all over the grass.”
“I'm all patched up good but I knew I had to come and see you.”
I sat beside her and she bit her lower lip to hold in her excitement. She dropped the book back into her bag.
“And here you are!” she said.
“Miss Jameson, I have something for you.”
“Oh you tease.”
I took out the two apples from my pocket and handed them to her. She cupped her hands together and I dropped them in. She chuckled and then laughed to herself.
“Thank you for helping me,” I said.
“Anytime, Harrison.” She put the apples in her bag. “Say, I heard on the grapevine that you did it.”
“It said that I did it?”
“The news doesn't quite go as far as naming you. It mentioned some others I didn't pay attention to, but I knew who it really was.”
“I had help from others, I'll never take full credit.”
“Be kind to yourself, Harrison. You're too modest, let this one bathe you in adoration.”
It was my time to chuckle, “I'm not one for being adored.”
“Sometimes we have to accept love and compliments so we can spread that joy to others. If you encourage joy to come into your life either accidentally or of your own will, then accept it and allow it to become part of you. Don't push it away.”
I leaned back on the bench and enjoyed a deep breath of fresh air, slightly cool but calming nonetheless.
“I never really see myself as someone special at all,” I said. “I don't really like to be lifted up and praised. It doesn't work for me, I don't wanna come across as arrogant or big-headed. I guess I prefer to hide away from the limelight.”
“You are special Harrison, I saw it in you when you first traipsed over here with your messy hair and your nose for a good conversation.”
“How do you know I'm one of the good ones?”
“It's your spirit, your humbleness, your desire to repay that which is offered to you freely. Each and every one of us makes up the threads of human civilisation, just as the roots of a tree reach out for sustenance. You are as special as the next person.”
I nodded slowly and smiled as I stared into the waters of the canal. I sure had found a good one in Miss Jameson. I had a feeling I'd be on the bench many times in the near future.
“I suppose we're all part of something bigger,” I said.
“Harrison,” she tapped my arm, “you didn't come all this way to bring me two apples, and you're certainly not here for philosophical chit-chat.”
A wry grin appeared on my face, “you know me too well already.”
“What can I help you with?”
I scrunched up my nose and flexed my face muscles to release the tension. The waters of the canal moved a little faster as a small rowing boat floated by. The ripples hit the side and splashed small drops onto the path in front of the bench.
I turned and faced Miss Jameson who was looking at me with a knowing smile on her face. She raised her eyebrows as if to say; don't hang about, ask me now.
I leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly in case anyone was listening nearby.
“What do you know about the Portent Hotel?”
~~~End~~~
Coming soon for August 2019.
Portent Hotel
A Harrison lake Mystery
www.benoakley.co.uk
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