The store manager knew him. Instead of opening one of the small, more commonly used booths, he unlocked the biggest one in the front. Alex put on the Sinatra CD. Night and Day was the first cut. He took Miranda’s purse, set it on a stool at the side and extended his hand. “Shall we, milady?”
Miranda and Alex simply swayed for the first few bars while Frank Sinatra spoke the opening lyrics. Then as the melody started and the speaking turned to singing, they moved in perfect time with each other and to the song. Within the confines of the booth, they somehow managed to dance in more than shuffle steps.
Sinatra’s Where or When followed, the dynamic of the lyrics rocked Miranda. She’d done this. She didn’t know where or when, but she’d danced with Alex before. She saw the two of them. It was a brief image and as real to her as dancing with him now was. The random flashes of Alex didn’t distress her like the ones of Ian. Why they didn’t puzzled her. But part of the inexplicable pieces and roller coaster emotions since meeting Ian came together for her. Just as she knew she’d danced with Alex in a place she couldn’t name, she knew all the visions of Ian were based on a truth she couldn’t remember. What role she played in those vignettes remained a mystery.
Sinatra went into another Cole Porter song. As she and Alex continued to dance to the romantic music, Ian’s behavior the night of their dinner drifted into her thoughts. She’d practically offered herself to him on a silver platter and he’d turned her down. Why?
“I’d like to ask you something. Please, be honest. This is important.” Miranda hated the tone in her voice. Whining or sounding needy and weak wasn’t her style. The slippery slope to utter wimp loomed yet she couldn’t stop herself. “I know I’m attractive. But, would I ever be attractive enough for a man...well, like you?”
Alex’s penetrating stare bore through her flesh and bone.
“What are you really asking me?”
She shrugged. “I’m curious, is all.”
He took his time before he answered. His hesitation gave her second thoughts about the way she phrased her question. But, to recant or attempt to reword would probably result in disaster. She’d dug a verbal hole and stepped in it. No need to pull the dirt in after her with an elaborate explanation.
“I’m a conceited bastard. I don’t like being an also ran or second choice.” His eyes started at her lips, traveled the length of her and back in sensual perusal. “You don’t strike me as a mistress type and I’m a mistress kind of man. But, if you’re asking me would I want you in that way, then I’d say...”
****
“Have you seen Miranda?” Ian poked his head into Kiki’s office and asked. “I’ve been looking all over for her. We talked for quite awhile this morning. Then, she disappeared.”
“Sorry, I haven’t seen her either.”
He looked down the corridor as though he expected Miranda to suddenly materialize. “I need to run an errand. If you see her and she asks, tell her I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
Ian considered mentioning Miranda’s quiet mood the past couple of days. It crossed his mind, Kiki might have a clue. He didn’t, believing it better to talk to the source. In the meantime, he run to Sound City and buy the Sarah Brightman CD’s he wanted. Kiki told him Brightman was a favorite of Miranda’s.
He stopped short of the store. There was a flower stand across the street. Why not get her a bunch as a surprise? He made a u-turn and darted into the road. Ignoring the driver’s angry honking, he barely made it to the center divider ahead of the fast moving Royal Mail van. Four traffic lanes separated the flower stand from Sound City. He bounced on the balls of his feet for a second before making another honk inducing mad dash for the sidewalk.
He people watched, while the vendor wrapped the double bouquet in green tissue paper. Large, plate-glass windows lined the front of the store. A steady stream of customers came and went.
Ian’s relaxed gaze drifted to the inside of the shop, to Alex and Miranda—the woman he loved and the best friend a man could have dancing. His hands flexed at his sides as he walked to the curb.
“Sir, your flowers.”
The vendor handed him the arrangement. Ian took them without looking away. He thought about surprising the couple and then changed his mind. Instead, he sat at an outdoor table of a nearby Starbucks that gave him full view of the music store.
One cup of coffee grew cold as he kept his vigil. She said something to Alex that had him looking pensive and serious. Whatever he said back made her smile bigger than she had with Ian the past two days. After what seemed an eternity, their dancing ended and they left the store, stopping in front.
They appeared so happy.
In six hundred years it never occurred to Ian to strike Alex. There’d been arguments. There’d been rough sport in the lists, but never had he wanted to raise a hand in anger against the man he was closer to than any other. All of that changed in an instant.
Alex caressed her cheek and ran his hand along the curve of her jaw and kissed her. Ian shot up. He swore every expletive possible as his view was blocked by the red bus.
Moments later, the bus pulled into traffic.
Alex and Miranda were gone.
Ian searched the crowds across the road. Then, he saw her. She sat in the back of the bus, by the rear window of the upper deck on the bus. All Miranda had to do was look down and she’d see him. He kept pace with the bus for about ten yards, running along the curb, willing her to turn his way. Instead, she turned the other direction and waved. Ian stopped and followed her gaze. Alex stood a few feet from the bus stop, waving back.
Ian sat at the outdoor table, the flowers and coffee forgotten.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
He sighed and thought back to the day he and Alex were given their new lives.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Basil and Guy leaned on the crenels of the ruined parapet. This was the seventh new century they saw. Celebrations had started early and were the liveliest welcome of a new century they’d seen.
“Are you terribly disappointed?” Guy asked.
“Not terribly, no. There’ve been worse disappointments. I had hoped to be reunited with Elinor by now. It’s been over two plus decades since we parted...since her death.”
Multiple explosions filled the sky in the distance with red, white, and green, star-shaped flashes. With a shrug, Basil added, “For such as we, that’s the blink of an eye in time. Still, I expected to be among the living again by now.”
“Maybe this decade.”
Another explosion close to Badger Manor sounded and more fast burning starbursts lit the area.
In the corner, something moved in the shadows. Basil turned to look. A small-boned blonde sat on a pile of broken stones. The intruder wore a modern style blue suit and white silk shirt open at the collar.
Guy had also turned. “Who’s this then?”
The stranger appeared without them hearing. Unusual for a mortal.
They walked over, unalarmed by the mysterious presence. No one had managed to surprise them since their demise. The possibility of frightening either was beyond comprehension also. As Basil once said, “how do you scare a ghost?”
The blonde stood. “Good evening.”
Basil and Guy nodded and mumbled “evening” back as they drifted past. The stranger suddenly appeared in front of them. The knights exchanged glances. Mortals didn’t move that fast.
Curious, Basil asked, “What are you and what do you want?”
“I am Gaby. The two of you are my assignment.”
Guy moved closer to within arm’s length of Gaby, eyeing the blonde carefully. In death as in life, Guy always wanted to know who he dealt with, friend or foe, man or woman. He picked up a lock of Gaby’s shoulder length hair. The pale strands glistened in the full moon’s light and reminded Basil of the wet threads of a spider’s web.
The stranger stood quiet under the scrutiny.
“What is your given name? Gabriel? Gabrielle?”
Guy asked and let go of the lock.
“Just Gaby.”
Basil smiled.
“What are you thinking?” Guy asked, seeing his smile.
“I was remembering back to that first night at Elinor’s. When I materialized, she mistook me for an angel. She was disconcerted by my physical appearance. She said she always believed angels were blonde and androgynous.”
Basil’s smile faded. “What do you mean we’re your assignments?”
“You were promised another chance at life. I am here to show you some possibilities.” The diminutive Gaby looked from one to the other, expressionless. “Come or don’t come. I must know your decision. I have others to attend to this night.”
“We’ll come,” Basil and Guy answered in unison.
****
They found themselves in the Sisters of Mercy, a country hospital near Cheltenham. The complex resembled a manor more than a medical facility. Every patient had a private room, even those on the national health. The busier, well known London hospitals sent their hopeless cases to the Sisters of Mercy.
“I would prefer to resolve the easier matter first,” Gaby said.
Basil knew he should be ashamed, but he hoped the comment referred to him.
It didn’t.
Gaby addressed Guy, “I have a young man to show you. I believe he will be satisfactory.”
Basil and Guy followed the guide into a room where a male patient about twenty-five years old lay asleep. A metal stand held a bag of fluid connected to a needle inserted into the man’s hand.
Guy’s eyes widened. “He looks so much like me.”
“He is your descendent over many generations through your sister. My superiors noticed the resemblance immediately and thought you might be interested.”
Guy lingered by the foot of the bed. “What is wrong with him?”
“He is in a coma, the result of a motorcycle accident. Whether he recovers or not depends on you.” For the first time since the meeting on the parapet, Gaby displayed a modest amount of emotion. “I see worry in your eyes. Let me put your mind at ease. Excluding this circumstance, he is healthy. There will be no permanent effects from the accident.”
“Thank you. I did wonder.” Guy stepped to the side of the bed and laid a hand on his descendant’s arm. “My nephew,” he whispered. “So few of my family survived the Civil War, I didn’t think there were any more of us.”
“Time grows short. You must choose,” Gaby said, firmly.
Guy looked over at Basil. “What about you?”
“Go. Don’t lose this opportunity. No matter what is in store for me, you must take this chance.” Whatever the future held, the centuries old burden of guilt that weighed on Basil’s soul would now be lifted. “Your fate is your own once more.”
“I’ll see you soon my friend.” Guy turned and stared pointedly at Gaby. “I’d better.”
Neither agreeing nor disagreeing, Gaby asked, “Are you ready?”
Guy smiled at Basil and with a single, small nod said, “Soon,” then to Gaby, “I’m ready.”
Wary, Basil stared at the now empty space where Guy had just stood. A mute Gaby offered no words of reassurance.
The man in the bed groaned and shifted. His eyes opened, and he looked at Basil. “I feel like I was hit by a lorry. And, this needle hurts like the devil. If there was a Frenchman here, I’d say stick it in his arm.”
Gaby laid a hand on Guy’s shoulder. “Welcome to your new life, Alex Lancaster. You should take things easy at first. You will need to learn how to work with two sets of memories but my superiors and I have every confidence in you.”
“Shall we?” Gaby said to Basil and indicated the door with a sweeping gesture. As they left, Gaby glanced back and smiled, “For the record, you were hit by a lorry.”
In the corridor, Gaby spoke in a serious tone. “Your options are not so easy. There are no distant relatives to present you. Instead, I will show you two young men. Both are the age you were when your mortal life ended. Ready?”
“Yes. Absolutely, yes.” Basil flexed his fingers at his sides in nervous anticipation.
They entered a room where a ginger-haired fellow lay. Freckles blanketed the grey pallor of his face. His lips had a bluish hue and under his thin covers the man’s body appeared wasted, almost emaciated.
Basil tried not to recoil. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He overdosed on a narcotic cut with toxins.”
Basil backed away and shook his head.
“Let me give you the details before you say no.” Gaby brought a hand up in mock surrender. “This was his first time ingesting heroin. The concoction triggered a heart attack. Since this is his first time taking the combination there’ll be no long term physical damage. Between modern medicine and healthier living, most of what has been done to his heart can be repaired. A normal life is more than possible.”
“No. He is nothing like the man I was. I cannot do this, not with him.” Basil hurried from the room.
Gaby joined him. “There is one more.”
“Show me.”
In the room across the hall lay the second man. Basil approached. The man in the bed was tall and broad shouldered, extremely pale, with dark hair, dark as Basil’s. His features were similar to Basil’s but different. His cheeks had sunken in, as though he’d lost interest in food, circles under his eyes gave them a bruised appearance.
“What is wrong with him?”
“There are extenuating circumstances with this one. They may make a difference to you.” With those words, Gaby pulled the covers back to reveal thick bandages on each wrist. “He is a suicide or will be should you reject him. Some might find the taking of one’s life unforgivable. I must warn you, as I did Guy, you will have mixed memories. Some of his sorrow will come to bear on you.”
“It’s not a matter of forgiving or not forgiving. That is between him and his God.” Basil turned the man’s wrist over and ran a finger down the length of the bandage. “He appears to have done a fine job. The cut is vertical and quite deep from the feel of the padding.”
“A competent young man. He was thorough, even to the end.”
Basil studied the face that may or may not become his. He stared hard at the man’s nose.
“It is quite grand, I admit,” Gaby said, eyes fixed on Basil’s nose. “But, straight.”
Basil touched a self-conscious finger to the bump on his crooked nose. “Mine was straight, once, a long time ago. As a young knight, I missed the target during a tilt. I took a solid blow in the face by the quintain.” Basil shook his head. “The nose isn’t important.” Depressed, he stepped away. “I don’t think he’s suitable. I’m not sure I want any part of those memories.”
Gaby looked thoughtful and sat on the corner of the bed, hands folded. “These are the only two I have to show you. I cannot guarantee when another opportunity will arise.”
Basil shook his head no again.
“There’s something else you should know,” Gaby added. “Elinor lives. She no longer goes by that name, obviously. But, she lives.”
“Where is she? Tell me.” Basil reached out to grab Gaby by the suit’s lapel, then dropped his hand to his side and tried to calm himself. “I must know. There are promises involved.”
“I am Gaby, not Cupid. I have said all I can on the matter. I need your decision.”
Basil opened his eyes a crack. He felt no pain from the cuts. He expected to. He’d been cut many times in his mortal life and in general most were grievous. He knew little of modern medicine but assumed this painlessness resulted from it. He opened his eyes completely.
“Welcome to your new life, Ian Cherlein.” Gaby patted his leg.
“What about the scars? They are the mark of a coward. I would hate to have other people believe such of me.”
“I can fix that. I am certain my superiors won’t object.”
Basil looked up to say thank you but Gaby was gone along with the scars.
****
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Ian watched Alex walk back into Sound City. He stood, throwing down twice as much money as the bill required next to the untouched coffee.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Chapter Fifty-Six
Ian spent the rest of the day chastising himself for suspecting Alex. Miranda seemed genuinely pleased with the flowers. Her reaction helped him rein in his jealousy and concentrate on the details of his plan.
She hadn’t come into his office except on business since his return. It was unusual. It would’ve seriously concerned him but she had agreed to give him the time he needed. He figured this was her way of doing that.
His plans came together fast. Today was the day.
"Julian, you've outdone yourself. I’m impressed with how accurately you duplicated these replicas,” he said, when the set designer brought the requested props. “From a distance no one would know they're painted and not true tapestries. Really well done, thank you."
The normally cantankerous designer beamed. His crush on Ian was common knowledge. "Thank you for the opportunity. Are you sure there isn't anything else you need me to do?"
Ian didn’t notice the adoration in Julian’s eyes. "There is one more favor you could do for me. If you'll direct Symington's Transport to my office when they arrive, I'd appreciate it. They're delivering these someplace else this afternoon."
Julian agreed and lurched forward as Ian gave him a hard pat on the back. Alex nearly ran into the little man in the doorway as he worked to recover. A collision would’ve driven him back into Ian’s chest. Julian mumbled a quiet curse in Alex’s direction and made his way down the corridor with mincing steps.
"I'm glad you're here.” Ian closed the door and laid the canvases out flat on the floor. “What do you think?"
"They're brilliant." Alex eyed the hangings and took a step back. "The old poof must be quite smitten with you," Alex sighed dramatically, patted his heart and plopped into a nearby chair. "So, I take it you've lined up a place to substitute for Ashenwyck?"
Heroes Live Forever (Knights in Time) Page 26
