The Voice Within

by Roger Penfound

  "What will you do now Freddie? Will you go back to the hospital?" asked Julia.

  "No, I've a few more years left and I want to find some peace. I'll go away somewhere – take on a different identity."

  "Can we help you in some way?"

  "No, thanks. I'm OK. My needs are not great. But I would be very grateful for a bed for the night. It's a bit late to make the journey back."

  Julia showed Freddie up to the bedroom that Doug had occupied whilst she and Doug retired to her room and fell quickly into a deep sleep.

  It was nine in the morning before the combination of birdsong and sunlight bursting in through the bedroom window roused them from their slumber.

  "I'll go and start breakfast," said Julia. "Will you go and tell Freddie breakfast will be about twenty minutes?"

  Doug washed quickly then went down the corridor to knock on Freddie's door. Two taps and there was no answer. He opened the door and looked in. The bed had not been slept in. He hurried down to the kitchen.

  "Julia, there's no sign of him. Are you sure he's not come down?"

  "I haven't seen him."

  "How about outside?"

  "The doors are still locked."

  They looked at each other – trying to understand.

  "We'd better look upstairs again. Check each room."

  They went back up to the landing and worked their way along the corridor. Julia opened doors to rooms that Doug had not been in before – full of antique furniture, ornate vases, huge canvasses and other works of art. There was no sign of Freddie. They tried his room again but there was little evidence of him having been there.

  At the end of the corridor, a shaft of light shone out from behind a door that was ajar. Doug and Julia looked at each other. Without exchanging words they made their way to the room – Kate's room – and Doug pushed open the door.

  Julia gasped.

  Lying in the middle of the floor was Freddie, his hands locked around his own neck. They rushed to him but he was cold.

  "He got him," whispered Doug. "Arthur got his revenge."

  Chapter 25: The village of Billipur, Kashmir, India – six months later

  The sun hung like a fiery globe over the distant hills. In the village square, people busied themselves for the celebration. Tables were set and filled with a variety of local delicacies. At one end of the square, six rows of chairs were set facing a small platform. Bunting and lanterns were strung between buildings. At six o'clock, the guests began to take their places and an elderly priest busied himself with preparations.

  A ripple of applause went up as the groom appeared. Nick was dressed in a white tunic and he wore a small white knitted cap on his head – a sign of his recent conversion.

  As the sun dipped lower and the shadows lengthened, the priest began reciting from the Koran. After fifteen minutes, Aleena appeared wearing a simple red gown decorated with flowers. Gold bracelets adorned her arms. She was led on the arm of her brother. When they reached the platform, Hakim passed her hand to Nick.

  As the marriage ceremony progressed, Doug had great difficulty holding back tears. He felt immensely proud of Nick. Here, in a village in Kashmir, he had found the peace and confidence he needed, amongst people who welcomed him into their community – people whose values he shared. It was a far cry from the morally bankrupt world of phone hacking and corruption that characterised his own world. He squeezed the hand that rested firmly in his and smiled at Rachel.

  The next morning, Doug knocked early on Rachel's door. The hotel was simple but comfortable. It was a twenty minute drive through maize fields and pasture to the village where Nick and Aleena had married the previous day. There were to be more celebrations, more greetings and more feasting.

  The locals had difficulty understanding Doug and Rachel's relationship. They were Nick's parents and they had been married but now they weren't. Yet they had arrived together, sat together and seemed to derive much pleasure from each other's company.

  Doug and Rachel strolled into a simple dining room which looked out onto a walled garden, vibrant with green foliage. The sound of water trickling from a stone urn was mixed with the languid chatter of other guests. In the streets beyond, the shouts of traders and the splutter of motor cycles was a reminder of the rapidly emerging face of 'new' India.

  "Nick seems so content," observed Rachel as they were shown to a table with a crisp white linen cover. "He seems to have a calmness and serenity about him that I've not seen before."

  "Life back home never really worked for Nick. I can see that now," reflected Doug. "That attempt to get him to do a business degree – to focus on a career. That was never his thing. He seems to fit in here."

  "How does that make you feel?"

  "Strangely envious. Maybe he's found something that's worth searching for."

  "It's not too late for you to start searching too."

  "I don't think I'd want to do it by myself."

  "I'm so sorry about Julia."

  Doug's heart felt heavy as he thought back to that last meeting with Julia. After the night in the courtyard at Penhallam, he'd been determined to turn his attention to her needs. He'd been far too preoccupied with his own problems. It was at dinner two nights later that she dropped her bombshell.

  "It's not going to work, Doug. I love you but that's not enough."

  "I don't understand. It's a pretty good start. Surely we can build on that – build a new life together."

  "But I already have a life and I have a husband. We've come a long way together. Things have gone wrong recently but that's no reason to give up. Sometimes, you have to work hard to retrieve what you've lost. You can't always start again. And don't forget, we have a daughter together. I know she's not here physically, but she lives on within us. We need to stay together – to give her life."

  Julia was adamant about her decision and Doug soon found himself back in the old flat in Kilburn. He began to drink again, to deal with the depression that constantly dragged him down. Much of his time was taken up with searching for Nick and Aleena.

  The police had arrested the fake Imam and his friends. They had previous criminal records and their conversion to Islam was a ploy to exploit and extort money from vulnerable followers.

  It was three months after their disappearance that Doug received the email.

  'Hello Dad. Aleena and I are safe. We're in India. I'm sorry we couldn't contact you before but we were scared that we might be arrested. I don't know how much you remember about that day but I thought I'd better give you my account.

  When I entered the lock-up I was held back by the fumes and fire. My first concern was Aleena. I could see that she was in a bad state. I just wanted to protect her. Then I saw the Imam with a gun in his hand. I guess you saw it too because you launched yourself at him and knocked him to the floor. He dropped the gun and I saw you kick it away. I wanted to pick it up, but I froze with panic. There was so much noise and confusion. Then the gun went off. I heard you shout and I saw blood pouring from your arm. Aleena's father was slumped against the wall. The bullet must have passed through you and hit him. In the confusion, we didn't know what to do. There were sirens approaching. One of the Imam's men was shouting that they had to escape. Hakim told us that he knew a way out at the back – through an adjoining property. I'm not proud that we escaped but it seemed the only way at the time. Staying put wasn't an option. How we got to India is a long story which I'll tell you some time. For now, I've made up my mind. I'm going to stay here and marry Aleena. I've met her family over here and they've made me very welcome.

  I hope you can cope with this next bit of news. I'm going to convert. I'm going to embrace Islam. It's partly because I want to be accepted by Aleena's family but also because I need something more in my life which I don't seem able to find back in England. We've never got on and I think that's got a lot to do with our different values. You enjoy the challenge of modern life. I long for the serenity and peace of something that I believe we have lost
. I'm hoping to find that peace here in India with Aleena.

  I don’t know who killed Aleena’s father. Maybe we all did in our different ways. Perhaps it was outside our control. Nick.'

  They were served fresh fruit, yoghurt and tea. It seemed strange to Doug to be sitting across the table from Rachel, the woman he had married twenty-three years ago – yet they had spent so much time apart. He watched as she busied herself preparing tea from a pot, pouring cups for them both. She wore a light cotton shirt that they had bought in the market the day they had arrived. Her hair was longer now and hung in loose strands across her shoulders. He remembered how fearful he had been of meeting her after Nick and Aleena had disappeared.

  It was early July and rain gusted across unseasonably wet streets. Newspaper billboards declared the intensification of the recession and people hurried along pavements clutching umbrellas or hiding beneath hoods. He sat in the window of a tea shop waiting. Somehow, the weather didn't auger well. She arrived wearing an ankle-length raincoat which she removed at the entrance and hung on a stand. Spotting Doug, she headed in his direction. She seemed strangely impassive. Normally, her face would give her mood away. But today – nothing.

  "How are you, Rachel?" She removed a dirty plate from the table and sat down ignoring his question. "Shall I order tea?"

  "What's the latest news?"

  He ordered tea and biscuits.

  "There is no official news. The police are still searching but they have no leads. Aleena's family is proving difficult. They've closed ranks and are saying as little as possible. There is one thing to report though. Hakim has gone missing. The police released him on bail. He was around for his father's funeral but disappeared soon after that. There were reports of fierce family arguments but no one is giving much away."

  "What sort of arguments?"

  "Raff heard through his contacts up there that Hakim had apparently changed his mind and wanted Nick and Aleena to marry."

  "Well, that's pretty academic if no one can find them."

  "The rest of the family are against it. That same old 'shame' thing. So, apparently Hakim packed his bags and walked out."

  "And what about charges? Are Aleena and Nick still wanted by the police?"

  "Officially, the police would like to speak to them but there are no charges pending. The Imam and his lieutenants have been charged with intimidation and extortion, but the murder charge has been dropped. The police are treating it as accidental."

  "That's a relief."

  They talked awkwardly about inconsequential matters. Doug noticed that Rachel seemed distant. Her normally vivid blue eyes seemed dark and lifeless. He took a chance.

  "And how's that new husband of yours – Martin?" He saw her freeze and look away.

  "I have to go now. I've got a meeting in ten minutes."

  She finished her tea quickly and left.

  It was eight weeks later when they next met in the restaurant of a London store. All around them shoppers clutched packages and chatted as they devoured cakes and pastries. After their last meeting, Doug was hesitant about seeing Rachel again. But the recent news that both Nick and Aleena were alive and well had brought life back to Rachel's face.

  "I could hardly believe it when I received that email from Nick. I was so relieved. Isn't it fantastic news? And he's asked me to go to the wedding. Of course, I'm going to go. How about you?"

  Doug had also been invited to Nick and Aleena's wedding which was to take place in a small Kashmiri village where many of Aleena's family lived. He wanted to go but in his present mental state didn't feel that he could cope with being so close to Rachel with her new husband.

  "I don't know yet. I'm trying to get work. I assume you'll be travelling with Martin?"

  Her face clouded over.

  "I suppose you need to know. It didn't work out with Martin."

  Doug stifled a feeling of elation which welled up inside him. Even though she was no longer with him, he had always found it difficult to think of her being with someone else.

  "I'm sorry," he stammered with unusual hesitance. "It's just that I thought that you two ..."

  She sighed.

  "When we were dating it was great. He was attentive – organised. He booked theatres, arranged outings. Everything was planned down to the last detail. It was what I needed."

  "Not like our life together, you mean?" She laughed.

  "Then when we married and he moved in – what had been a big positive suddenly became a nightmare."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Obsessive – constantly tidying. Lists – a list for everything. I couldn't do the laundry without consulting his bloody list. It was too much. I almost began to long for those crazy disorganised days with you."

  She stopped and looked at him. Her eyes were moist. He had an overwhelming desire to throw his arms around her and hold her tight. He tried to speak but his voice croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again.

  "Why don't we both go – as friends, of course. It'll mean so much to Nick. He's our only child. Let's be at his wedding."

  The village was vibrant with the sights and sounds of celebration. Distant relations from outlying areas had made the journey to Billipur as word of Nick and Aleena's marriage spread. Nick's conversion to the Muslim faith was the cause of much excited gossip and speculation.

  Doug and Rachel spent the day greeting a long procession of cousins, arts and uncles. As the sun began to sink and guests started to leave, they wandered away from the centre of the village in search of some solitude. Following a track between low whitewashed houses, they found themselves in open fields. In a grassy clearing a huge chinar tree provided some welcome shade. They sat beneath its vast canopy and instinctively held hands.

  To the east, the snow-capped peaks of the Zanskar mountains glinted in the late afternoon sun. To the west, lay the lush plain of Kashmir leading to the provincial capital of Anantnag. A light breeze rustled the leaves above and sent waves chasing through the fields of ripened maize.

  "What are you thinking?" asked Rachel after they had sat for a while engrossed in their own thoughts.

  "I was thinking back to something Harry, said. 'Science tells us what we are but it doesn't tell us who we are'."

  "What did he mean?"

  "I think I'm just beginning to find out – here in India with my ex-wife."

  They watched as the sun dipped behind a mountain peak and the sky turned a light crimson.

  "Do you remember," said Rachel, "we talked of travelling after university – to India, the Far East, South America? We wanted to find out more then, about ourselves, the world, other cultures. But your job came up on the paper and somehow it never happened. I always regretted that."

  "You gave up a lot for me."

  "It's what people did then."

  "The loss of Mandy hurt you badly."

  "Didn't it hurt you?"

  "Yes. But I had my work. I used that to hide. I left you to deal with her death alone. I realise that now."

  "She's always been with me you know – deep inside. I just wish that I could have shared her with you too – but you shut her out."

  "Maybe it's not too late."

  "What do you mean?"

  "To change. To think differently. Why don't we visit those places, Rachel? You and me. OK, we should have done it twenty years ago but maybe we'll get even more out of it now."

  "But I've got a job."

  "Resign."

  "Who'd pay for it?"

  "I'll sell my flat. Let's do it."

  He was on his knees, holding tightly to both her wrists.

  "But we're not even married."

  "Who cares about that?"

  He kissed her and she moved into his arms.

  The call to prayer drifted across the valley, mingling with the bird song and the mellow lowing of a distant buffalo. There was a timeless feel to the setting, as if eternity and the present had become one.

  "You know, there's one thing I've learnt
from these past few months. We're not alone. We belong to both the past and the future."

  Rachel leant back into his arms.

  "I agree. But I think our duty is to the present."

  Note from the Author

  Thank you very much for reading 'The Voice Within'. I hope you enjoyed the story and found it thought provoking.

  If you did enjoy it, I would be very grateful if you would leave a short review on Amazon. You can do this by typing the title 'The Voice Within' into the search engine on the Amazon Books home page and then scrolling down to 'write a review'. Or you can go straight to:

  US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QU8C0EU

  UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00QU8C0EU

  Reviews are the life blood of success for self-published authors and your help would be really appreciated.

  If you would like to learn more about the background to this book and about other publications please visit my website www.rogerpenfound.com.

  Many Thanks

  Roger Penfound

  Also by Roger Penfound:

  The Guest Who Stayed: Book 1 in The ‘Destiny’ Series.

  In the gloom and austerity of post First World War Britain, three young people are brought together in a sleepy English market town – each with a burning ambition to break away from the shame and deprivation that has beset their youth. The arrival of a war damaged veteran in their midst challenges their idealistic hopes for the future, unleashing passion, deceit and betrayal into their nascent lives. Years later the repercussions of this tragedy return to haunt the next generation. Against a backdrop of a new world war, one couple's search for romance and love is cruelly threatened when a crime hidden for many years is finally brought to the surface exposing the fragile relationships within a family that harbours a terrible secret. This is a family saga set against the backdrop of a world in turmoil where traditional values are turned upside down by the emergence of a new order.