Two of a Mind

by S M Stuart

  I brought the cookie jar to the table and absentmindedly started to munch as I opened Elizabeth’s Handi. Once again I felt like I was intruding on her private life but Seth nodded for me to continue.

  Many of the entries were mundane – appointments with her bookkeeping clients, reminders about Parents’ Evenings at the Academy, birthdays, anniversaries etc. There were some saved e-zine snippets about handicrafts, recipes, or gardening tips. She even had some celeb gossip in there, didn’t know she was interested in that. There was also a wide range of archived news articles; from the legislation effecting her work to political debates and crime reports.

  “I’m not sure what I should be looking for,” I said. “It all seems fairly ordinary to me. What did you see that made you feel she … That it wasn’t an accident?”

  Seth came to sit next to me and leaned close so that he could key commands onto the Handi screen.

  “Why did she keep these?” he asked, bringing the news archive up on to the screen. “All those horrible murders, deaths and accidents used to really upset her when they came on the news. So why would she remind herself of them? And here…” He started to scroll through the Handi’s pages. “There’re all sorts of weird quotations throughout the entries. Some even pop up when you’re looking at the news reports.”

  “Maybe she liked to keep a reminder of the things she’d read.”

  “No. She didn’t read all those books. I’m sure of it. Maybe some of the classics but there’s some obscure stuff and some of them just aren’t her – if you know what I mean. Look.”

  Seth brought up a page with an orange background and a flashing white exploding text box: ‘The rich are the scum of the earth in every country.’ The text was in a blocky black font as though the message was being thrown out of the page at the reader. Elizabeth had annotated it with ‘Quote: The Flying Inn: G K Chesterton (1874-1936)’

  “See? That’s not the way Mum thought. She always said there were good and bad in all walks of life, no matter where people came from or how much they had in the bank. You know how tolerant she was of others. And I never heard her speak of G K Chesterton so it’s not like he was one of her favourite authors. Why would she keep a quote like that?”

  “Seth, I don’t know. What’re you trying to say?”

  “I feel like she’s trying to get a message out. But I just can’t find it.” He scrubbed at his forehead with clenched fists, his shoulders hunching up towards his ears. I reached over to rub his neck and shoulders with large sweeping circles.

  “S’okay, Seth. We’ll work on it together. We’ll suss it out somehow.” I felt a tightening in my stomach as I massaged his broad back – I hadn’t noticed how muscular he was, he’d always seemed so skinny. He gradually relaxed and turned to look at me. My breath caught as I returned his gaze. His soft brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears and his face was slightly flushed.

  “Hmph,” he muttered, embarrassed by his reaction. He looked at the washing-machine and gestured towards it. “Thanks, Dez. I’ll just get that lot out while there’s still some sunshine. Then we can take another look.”

  The spell broken, I turned back to the Handi while Seth went into the garden with the freshened laundry. He had a point. Some of the entries did seem uncharacteristic of Elizabeth so maybe she was trying to say something. I started from the beginning – a key to the highlighted entries in her diary section: yellow signified client meetings or calls for her bookkeeping business; green for personal reminders such as dental appointments, Academy events and so on; pink was for birthdays and anniversaries. But there was nothing to explain the occasional blue markers, the first of which appeared on Saturday, 31st January 2105.

  “Seth,” I called through the open back door. “Have you any idea what the blue markers are for?”

  “Be there in a minute.”

  I checked the second year of entries. The blue markers were on different dates so they weren’t anything that occurred on a regular basis. But then her client appointments weren’t on identical dates either so it probably wasn’t a big deal.

  The warmth from the afternoon sun shining through the kitchen window was making me drowsy again. I sat with my chin resting on my free hand as I scrolled through the Handi’s pages.

  “… do you mean? … started first time yesterday … come on Troy, I said…”

  “What?” My head slipped from my hand as I came back to myself.

  “What?” Seth asked from the doorway.

  “What? … No, stop,” I said. Inside my head was buzzing like that irritating murmur you get in a room full of people all holding different conversations at once. Must be left over effects of the hypnotherapy. I thought. Or those bloody drugs that rotten nurse pumped into me.

  “You okay, Dez?” Seth stepped forward and hesitantly put his hand on my shoulder.

  Why is he suddenly so awkward with me?

  “Feel a bit queasy,” I said. “Can you get me some water, please?”

  “Sure. You’re not gonna keel over are you?”

  “No. I’m fine, promise.” I managed a smile. “Just got a bit too hot in the sunshine.” I shifted my chair around the table so that I was in the shadier part of the room. But it wasn’t the heat that was freaking me out. The murmuring was still there and I kept getting snippets of conversation coming through clearly like a Holo-Comms receiver picking up audio broadcasts. I felt myself shaking my head as though I was trying to dislodge an insect from my ear and Seth was giving me worried look.

  “Dez. What is going on with you?”

  I felt a sudden wave of nausea and headed for the sink.

  “Sorry.” I broke my promise and crashed down as the buzzing overwhelmed me. When I came round, Seth was bending over me, gently patting my forehead with a damp cloth. His eyes were ringed with dark circles and his lips were clenched tight. I was shivering despite the summer heat and I couldn’t seem to get it to stop.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you home.”

  He picked me up with only a little stumble as he manoeuvred me into his arms.

  When did he get so strong?

  “No.” I struggled to get my feet to the ground. “I’m fine now, honest.”

  “Whoa!”

  Too late. We both ended up back on the kitchen floor.

  “Guess you are!” I could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

  “All right. I’m not fine. But I’m not going home.”

  “Well, tell me what’s up.”

  “I don’t really know. I’ve got this noise in my head. It’s making me feel sick and dizzy.”

  “Sounds like vertigo. My gran used to get it. You need to get something for it, Dez.”

  “No! I’m not going anywhere near that clinic if I can help it. Ow, it’s difficult to concentrate … I … can …hardly …” I just couldn’t get any more words out.

  Seth picked me up again and took me into the sitting room, carefully lowering me onto the sofa. He went upstairs and came back with a familiar bottle – his mother’s lavender oil. Elizabeth was an amateur herbalist, preferring natural remedies to synthetic drugs. He poured a little of the oil into his hand and gently started to dab it onto my temples, lightly tracing circles around my closed eyes and whispering endearments that he probably didn’t think I could hear,

  “Don’t worry. It’s okay. I’m here.”

  His soothing voice and the sweet lavender were helping. The murmuring faded slightly so that I could start to think coherently again and I opened my eyes. Seth’s face was so close to mine I could smell the warmth of his skin, the left-over zesty fragrance of his morning shower overlaying the perfumed oil he was massaging into my forehead. I lifted my head to take the kiss that had been hovering between us all afternoon. Good job I didn’t throw up earlier. I giggled before I could complete my intention and Seth leapt back, embarrassed that he’d been caught so close to me.

  “Er. Just about to er … I was er …” he said.

  “S’fine. You were just maki
ng sure I was okay,” I offered.

  “Yeah. Yeah. I was just making sure you were okay.”

  “Are you okay now?” he added.

  “Feeling much better, thanks. That lavender oil seems to have done the trick.” My head had cleared. Maybe the dizzy spell had been brought on by the hypnotherapy session and the hot sun through the kitchen window after all.

  “Well I don’t think we should do any more today,” he said. “I’ll take you home before you have another funny turn. We can look at Mum’s diary when you’re feeling better. Sorry, I shouldn’t have pressured you so soon after you got out of the clinic.”

  “Don’t worry, Seth. I’m all right, really I am. But, I will go home and have an early night. That hypno stuff must be more tiring than I imagined. I’m whacked.”

  I packed Elizabeth’s Handi away into my bag despite Seth’s argument that I shouldn’t bother myself with it any more. I wanted to look at it alone. Make some notes. See if I could see any pattern to the entries or connections that Seth might’ve missed. I finally convinced him that I’d be able to handle it without freaking out again.

  The afternoon was beginning to cool and, although the shivers were now under control, Seth insisted that I draped his jumper around my shoulders as we started the short stroll to my house. Samuel came around the corner just as we reached the end of their drive.

  “Hello, Dez,” he said. “Nice to see you out and about. How’re you doing?”

  “Good thanks, Mr Wa … Samuel.” We all laughed at my stuttered response and I warned Seth with a loaded glance that he wasn’t to mention my dizzy spell.

  “It’ll take me a while to get used to calling you that,” I added, turning back to Samuel.

  “It’s fine, love. You call me whatever you like, as long as it’s not late for my dinner!”

  “Oh, Dad. That’s so lame!”

  “I know, Seth. I know.” Samuel grinned and winked at me, enjoying the mild embarrassment he was causing his son. “Take care, love. See you later, eh?”

  “Yes. I’ll be round again tomorrow. And I’ll remember the ginger biscuits.” Much to Seth’s surprise, I took his hand and dragged him out of the drive. Samuel’s smile widened when he noticed the gesture.

  Now I see where Seth’s lovely smile comes from!

  CHAPTER 15

  Ellingham: May 2089

  “She looks adorable.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re her doting granddad!” Jade laughed. “But on this occasion, I’ll allow it.”

  Bethany continued to spin on the spot making her multi-layered skirt flare out almost parallel to the floor. Finally she was too dizzy to stand and collapsed on the floor, giggling uncontrollably.

  “Careful.” Jade picked up the breathless child. “You’ll make yourself sick and ruin the dress before we even get there.”

  “We’d better be making tracks,” Matt said. “Eddie and Trish are meeting us at the church. We’ll see you there.” He gave his daughter and grand-daughter a proud hug.

  Laura watched from the doorway, enjoying the sight of the three generations in a warm embrace.

  “Come on,” she said. “You know how nervous Jonny is. He’ll need his godfather to give him a push towards the altar if he gets stage fright.”

  “Poor lad, I’d be nervous marrying into the Dévereux family too.”

  “Be nice. Little ears hear all,” Laura whispered, nodding towards Bethany who was now hopping from one foot onto the other, still full of energy and excitement.

  Luckily the eight-year old was busy admiring the sparkling sandals that her mother was holding. Too eager about the wedding to listen to Gramps. Being a bridesmaid was a very important job – Aunty Ce-Ce had told her so – and she wasn’t going to let Aunty Ce-Ce down. She frowned at her knee, recently grazed and now sporting a lovely, knobbly scab. Mummy had been so careful to keep her indoors for weeks ahead of the wedding but the day before yesterday Bethany ran to the gate to collect a parcel from the postman and promptly tripped on the gravel path. Her loud cries were more to divert Mummy’s cross response than from any real pain.

  “Don’t worry Betty-kins,” Jade now soothed, noticing her daughter’s sudden change of mood. “Your knee won’t be so noticeable under your fancy tights. We just need to be careful we don’t scrape off the scab, don’t we?”

  Jade struggled not to laugh at Bethany’s serious nodding then her breath caught as she noticed her child’s resemblance to her great-grandmother – still missed after all these years. Jade felt a sudden prod of guilt that she’d been too busy to follow through on her promise to help find out what Julia had been searching for.

  “Muuu-mmee!” Bethany’s whine brought Jade back to the present.

  “Sorry, lovely,” she said and continued to smooth the lacy tights over her child’s wriggling legs.

  ***

  Despite the groom’s nerves everything followed the meticulous planning of his beautiful bride. Laura felt only a brief stab of jealousy that Jade had chosen not to marry Bethany’s father, despite numerous proposals. Laura hadn’t had the chance to indulge herself as the mother-of-the-bride, however, being godmother of the groom on this occasion had it’s advantages. She and Matt were included in all the family portraits of the day so she could enjoy the involvement without the stress of the organisation.

  “Remind me again who that couple are with Jen,” Matt whispered as the toasts came to an end.

  “Samuel went to school with Jen and Celeste and that’s his girlfriend Elizabeth.”

  “Phwar. She’s a looker!”

  “Matthew Simpson.” Laura playfully slapped her husband’s arm. “You’re old enough to be her father.”

  “Ah so it’s only that you consider me too old for her. Not that you’re jealous, at all.” Matt smiled as he kissed his wife’s pouting lips.

  “Behave you two!” Jade interrupted. “Anyone would think it’s your wedding day.”

  “I hope that we’ll still be just as loving when we reach our thirtieth anniversary,” said the new Mrs Hanson, approaching the table.

  “My dear girl,” Matt said. “I’ve never seen Jonny happier. He’s besotted. Whatever you’ve been doing together in that office of yours has done the trick.” He gave an exaggerated wink and earned another slap from his wife.

  Celeste blushed slightly. “If I told you I’d have to kill you,” she replied with her own sly wink.

  CHAPTER 16

  Ellingham: 31 July 2110

  Things are getting complicated.

  I couldn’t work out what was really happening in my relationship with Seth. We were best friends; always had been and, if I had my way, always would be. But I realised that, for me at least, it was developing into something more. I thought about the way he’d cared for me earlier. Was I imagining that the way he felt about me was changing too?

  I stretched to relieve the stiffness in my neck and shoulders. I’d been hunched over the desk in my room trying to tune out the white noise in my head that had returned during dinner. I’d made my excuses and left the table before dessert, coming to my room before Mum got into full flow about me going out when she’d said I shouldn’t.

  So much for improved mother daughter relations! I thought.

  As I leaned backwards, Seth’s scent wafted up from his jumper, draped over the back of my chair. I’d forgotten to give it back to him when we’d reached my house. I tried to rekindle the relaxed, safe feeling I’d experienced that afternoon when he’d been massaging my face and the noise in my head had diminished. Although the reminder of his smell was comforting it didn’t do the trick and the voices continued to chatter incoherently. At least I didn’t feel quite so sick this time. Maybe if I concentrated on something else I could ignore the internal racket.

  Elizabeth’s Handi was charging up in the last rays of sunlight on the window ledge. I’ll have another look. See what I can come up with. When the unit turned on I chose ‘Random Access’ – an opportunity to let fate decide
where I’d start.

  News Archive: Sun 14 Feb 2106 (France)

  This morning, in a gruesome parody of a Valentine’s Day tryst, the bodies of a young couple were found in the gardens of the Théâtre Marigny, Paris. Police wish to speak to anyone in the area of the Square Marigny, Avenue des Champs Élysées, Avenue de Marigny and/or Avenue Gabriél between 9 o’clock yesterday evening and 7 o’clock this morning – the time that the awful discovery was made by one of the groundsmen.

  POP-UP: ‘How alike are the groans of love to those of the dying.’ Under the Volcano, ch12: Malcolm Lowry (1909-57)

  (DOM: 13/02)

  Oh great! Just when I was beginning to think about the romantic possibilities with Seth, Fate chooses to throw this up at me. The Pop-Up quote seemed apt enough, although macabre, but what was that notation at the end about? What did it mean? My mind was full of that bloody noise and I couldn’t filter it out to work on the riddle of what DOM stood for. I knew it was something obvious. I could feel it on the tip of my tongue but the more I tried to track it down the louder the murmuring voices became.

  With a frustrated sigh, I switched off the Handi, put it back into my bag and went to bed hoping that a good night’s sleep was all I needed to clear my head permanently.

  ***

  The colour of the buildings, smudged monochrome from the past centuries of smoke and exhaust fumes, mirrors the slate grey winter sky. The temperature steadily drops and a light wind chases the Parisians home early from their work and shopping but we’re immune to the chill as we walk along the Champs-Élysées arm-in-arm, chattering excitedly about our plans to marry. Tomas chose the ring weeks ago and it fits me so well that I’m amazed he knew the sizing without actually taking my finger to the jewellers! He was too excited to wait until tomorrow – Valentine’s Day. I’m glad he didn’t wait. Now we can spend the rest of the weekend celebrating. Tomas has managed to get a table at Café Lenôtre, I hate to think how much all this is costing him. He can tell by my expression that I’m worried.