Benedict 03 - Seeking Crystal

by Joss Stirling

  I’m not good at hiding my feelings and Diamond has a gift for sensing disturbance; I wasn’t going to get away with pretending I was OK with being cut out. She stopped twiddling her bracelet. ‘Oh no, I’ve made a mistake, haven’t I? I projected on to you what I would be thinking, but that’s wrong. You wanted to be asked to do something. I thought you would hate the whole wedding thing and run a mile. I just wished to spare you.’

  Yeah, you go on telling yourself that, Diamond. You might have thought that in the nice part of your brain, but even you have the darker side that wanted to avoid getting the disaster-area sister involved in your big day. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t. ‘No, no, it’s OK. It’s your wedding—you do what you want.’

  But Diamond was now trying to repair her error. ‘I’ve already asked Manatsu, but I’m sure she’ll appreciate the help. We’re getting the dresses made in London where Topaz’s brood live—that seemed most convenient—but she could send you the designs. I’d love your opinion.’

  Too late for that. ‘Really, stop flapping, Diamond. You’re right; I’m going to be busy if I do get that job. I’ll be lucky if the signora gives me the day off for the wedding, knowing her.’ Right now, I’d prefer not to come.

  ‘I know what! I need someone to organize my hen party. I’ve already asked Karla, Sky; and Phoenix to come out early to enjoy Venice with me. Who better than you to make sure we have a great time?’

  Actually, there were busloads of people better than me. ‘I don’t know, Diamond, I’m not sure. What about one of your Italian friends—wouldn’t they do it?’

  Diamond was not to be deterred. She had decided on this sop for me and now had persuaded herself I was the answer. ‘It would mean a lot to me if you did it.’

  I’m about as resistant as a marshmallow. Emotional blackmail wins every time. ‘Sure. OK. Just don’t blame me if I make a mess of it like I do everything else.’

  Diamond hugged me. ‘You won’t.’

  But I no longer believed her. All that stuff about my talent for fashion had clearly meant nothing when it came to something that was important to her. I now understood why family weddings were such a minefield; I was feeling aggrieved when really it was nothing to do with me. She could and should do what she liked on what was her day. ‘I’ll see you in a month or so then?’

  ‘Yes. You can keep living in the apartment, you know, whatever happens.’

  ‘Thanks. I’d better get going. Didn’t you book the taxi for five minutes ago?’

  ‘Actually, Trace insisted that one of his family drive you.’

  Oh no. I could guess what was coming. Just as I thought my day couldn’t get any worse. ‘Who exactly?’

  ‘Xav. He’s the only one at a loose end at the moment.’ She nudged me. ‘See, you’ve got a lot in common. Have you, you know, checked him out?’

  I snorted. ‘I don’t think you mean that to sound quite the way it came out.’

  Diamond laughed. ‘Well, that too. Trace does come from a family of outrageously handsome brothers. And Xav is the right age.’

  ‘C’mon, Diamond, it’s me we’re talking about. I’m barely a Savant and Xav is clearly a skilled healer for all his other obvious character flaws. What are the chances of two in the same family turning out to be the ones?’

  She flipped my hair behind my ears, reaching up to do so. ‘I know. Call me optimistic.’

  ‘You felt it with Trace right from the start, didn’t you?’

  She nodded.

  ‘With Xav, it is safe to say all I feel is a violent dislike. Chalk and cheese. Oil and water.’

  ‘Sorry. I can’t help stirring things. I want you to be as happy as I am.’

  ‘Trust me, that wouldn’t be the case if I found myself shackled to Xav Benedict by a quirk of fate.’

  Diamond accompanied me down to the lobby to say goodbye. At first we couldn’t see my driver, then I spotted him stretched out on a chair in reception, head back, eyes closed. Yep, Xav had really risen to the occasion: recognizing the urgency of making the check-in for an international flight, he was asleep.

  Diamond shook his shoulder gently. He was fortunate she was with me; if I had been in charge of his wake-up call, I’d’ve grabbed an ice cube from the bar and stuffed it down his neck. I have a weird sense of humour, according to my sister.

  ‘Wha—oh, it’s you.’ Xav got up and stretched, all long limbs and fluid shoulder rolls. ‘Sorry, I pulled an all-nighter yesterday.’

  I dumped my case near his toes, pleased when he hastily gathered them in. ‘Such an exciting social life you lead.’ What a witch I sounded, but I couldn’t help myself; somehow all my decent impulses flew off like water shaken from a dog’s coat when I came into his presence.

  He grinned at me, amused by my bad temper. ‘An all-nighter, at the hospital.’

  Diamond elbowed me to behave. ‘Xav’s volunteering as he intends to study medicine.’

  The one thing I had liked about Xav was that he seemed as useless as me; now that illusion was burst. ‘Oh. Sorry. Good for you.’

  ‘It’s OK, darlin’. I’m glad I had you fooled. Got an image to maintain, you know? So, this all your stuff?’ He eyed my modest suitcase. ‘What time’s the flight again?’

  Diamond gave him the details as I showed signs of saying something rude.

  ‘We’d better get going then. See you later, Diamond. I’ll make sure little sister gets her plane.’ He marched out towards his car, carrying my case on his shoulder like a Nepalese porter climbing Everest.

  I gave my sister a hurried kiss and chased after him. For once, someone had longer legs than me and I had to jog to catch up. He chucked my case in the back of his jeep and then opened the door of the passenger’s seat for me.

  ‘Climb in, Beauty.’

  I frowned at his overly cute name for me. He jokily called all women a variation on this theme—darlin’, sweetness, cupcake—but I was the only one I’d heard him call ‘Beauty’. I did not appreciate him making a joke at my expense but I had no idea how to retaliate in kind. If I called him ‘handsome’ I’d only be adding more puff to his over-inflated ego.

  I got in and prepared my next remark as he climbed into the driver’s seat. ‘So, you want to be a doctor then?’

  ‘Hey, are we going to have a normal conversation?’ He put the car into drive. ‘Yup, if I can afford it. I’m trying to earn some money to pay my way through college.’ He pulled out into the traffic, following the signs for the airport.

  He had better cut back on the high price fashion items then. ‘But I thought your family was rich.’

  ‘No, we’re not. Only Wonder Boy Yves has the dough and none of us will touch a cent, though he does try to sneakily give us stuff. Sorry to disappoint but we’re just plain working folk. Mom and Dad are ski instructors in the winter and run a white water rafting school in the summer. Dad also manages the ski lift. I’d be the first doctor in the family if I make it through.’

  I had a brief vision of him wafting through a ward round with adoring nurses following on his white coat tails. ‘I don’t know what it’s like here, but European doctors have to be very careful how they address patients. Have you not heard of political correctness?’

  He smirked. ‘Heard, but in my opinion that’s a fancy name for being polite.’

  ‘It might surprise you, but women like to be treated as equals. If you call your female patients “cupcake” you’ll find they slap you,’ I waited a beat, ‘with a writ.’

  He hooted. ‘Don’t worry: I know where to draw the line. I’ll just make sure I call the men “cupcake” too so no one can accuse me of ignoring equal opportunities. But thanks for worrying about me, Beauty.’

  ‘Please stop calling me that.’ I folded my arms across my chest.

  ‘Fine.’ Drumming the steering wheel, he glanced at me briefly before turning back to the traffic. ‘Hey, Beau—my respected and very equal cupcake, what’ve I done to annoy you? Every time I talk to you, you get all riled up li
ke a cat. I keep expecting that any moment I’m going to get scratched to bits, you know, like Androcles.’

  Andro-who? ‘I just don’t like people who pretend I’m something I’m so clearly not.’

  ‘Huh?’ He looked genuinely puzzled. ‘You’ve lost me.’

  ‘It’s not difficult. When you look like me, any comment about my appearance is going to be an insult or a lie.’

  He had the gall to laugh. ‘What?’

  ‘OK, I’m tall: get over it. I want to be judged for who I am, not what people see.’

  ‘Ah, you are one of those intellectual girls who like to be admired for their brains rather than their beauty? I’ve heard Europe is full of those.’ He hummed a little tune and moved smoothly to overtake a truck.

  ‘I’m not intellectual,’ I muttered.

  ‘Strange, because girls here are usually happy with praise of both. I like to make people—and here I do mean girls as I’m not into sweet-talking the other kind—I like to make them feel good about themselves. Inside and out.’ He gave me a wink that had the blood rushing to my cheeks.

  ‘Just don’t feel you have to try with me.’

  He gave a theatrical sigh. ‘You are one complicated chick.’

  ‘Chick!’

  He laughed. ‘Knew you’d rise to my bait! Just knew it. You’ve got to realize, darlin’, that “tease” is my middle name.’

  ‘Oh, really? Did you know that “punisher-of-those-who-call-girls-chicks” is mine?’

  ‘Nope. That really trips off the tongue, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Just bear it in mind, Mr Benedict.’

  ‘Anything you say, Miss Brook.’

  He put the radio on to cover the silence. Train’s ‘Hey, Soul Sister’ blared out before he could adjust the volume. He was one of those who sang along as he drove, tapping the beat out on the wheel. I loved this song but now I wouldn’t be able to hear it without thinking of him bopping away to the chorus. And the words—just let’s not go there.

  Finally the signs announced that we had arrived at the airport. Rather than drop me at the door, he took the ramp to the short stay car park. When he cut the engine the radio died.

  ‘Before you get out, Crystal, there’s something I promised Trace I’d ask you.’ He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, suddenly not his usual self at all, like a cloud had passed over his sunshine.

  ‘What’s that? Is it something I can do for Trace in Venice? I’m happy to help, really I am, even if I give the impression I’m a bit … ’

  He cocked an eyebrow, interested in the unexpected direction I’d taken. ‘Go on: even though you’re … ?’

  ‘A grump?’

  Xav roared with laughter at that. ‘You said it. Yup, if you were one of the seven dwarfs, that’s the one I’d pick for you.’

  ‘And you’re what? Dopey?’

  ‘Got it in one. He’s my role model. But no, it was nothing like that he asked me. It’s just that he’s got this thing that I have to check if I have a soulfinder bond with every Savant of the right date of birth even if it seems, um, unlikely.’

  ‘Diamond’s the same. But look at me, Xav, and tell me what you think is going on here. I saw your brother and my sister—bang: instant link, just like that.’ I studied my nails; I’d managed to get them French polished at the hotel so could pretend to admire them. ‘I don’t quite see that for us, do you?’

  He gave me a wry grin. ‘I’m glad you said it. And no. You and I—we are, I guess, not on the same wavelength.’

  ‘You’re DVD region one and I’m two after all.’

  ‘Yeah, exactly. But could we just do it, so I can say we tried?’

  ‘Do what?’ I squeaked, having all sorts of embarrassing images of passionate kisses in cars waltz through my mind.

  Xav chuckled, a deep rich sound reminding me somehow of mellow red wine. ‘Crystal Brook, be ashamed of yourself, girl! We’re in a public parking lot. No, not that. I just meant could I talk to you telepathically?’

  ‘If you want me to be sick in your car, then be my guest.’

  ‘That bad?’

  ‘Yes. I’m not joking. I get really, really sick when I try it with my family. It sounds stupid, but I’m not much of a Savant, and it seems that gift didn’t quite take with me somehow.’ I shrugged, powerless to explain what I didn’t really understand.

  ‘How about I try just the tiniest touch. You can shut me out as soon as you start feeling bad. Deal?’

  I checked my watch. ‘I’m not sure I have time.’

  ‘You’ve printed off your boarding pass already?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Then you have time.’ He wasn’t going to let me get away with this.

  ‘OK. Just a touch. And please, don’t laugh at me if I am ill.’

  He held up his hands. ‘Would I?’

  ‘Yes, you would.’ I remembered him joking when I’d succumbed to concussion. I’d been so annoyed I’d chased him out of the hotel room and insisted on being allowed to sleep off my headache without further medical intervention.

  ‘Character assassin.’ He offered me his hand. ‘I won’t laugh. Pinkie promise.’

  Taking a deep breath, I let the tips of my fingers rest on his palm. I closed my eyes, sensing his presence stealing up my arm like warmth from a stove on a cold day. It didn’t hurt at first, but as soon as he prepared to make the mind link, my brain started to protest, my stomach churning as if I’d been strapped to a roller coaster and we were doing a series of corkscrews.

  ‘Can’t!’ I whipped my hand away and clamped it over my mouth, eyes brimming with angry tears. I knew better. I couldn’t do those mind tricks others found so easy. I was a complete failure as a Savant and there was no point even going on thinking of myself as one.

  ‘Just take deep breaths. It’ll pass.’ Xav’s tone was anything but mocking. He was no longer touching me, but his voice was soothing, helping me breathe through the crisis.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes until I had pulled myself back together.

  ‘I’m OK.’ I blinked back the tears, my insides still shaking. ‘Now do you believe me?’

  ‘I never thought you were lying. I just … Look, Crystal, you know my gift?’

  I nodded.

  ‘It helps me see things. I sensed something was wrong in there but I can’t tell more unless I look deeper.’ He gestured to my head.

  That got me fumbling for the door release. ‘’S OK, Xav. I haven’t got time for that now.’

  He sprang out of his side and was holding the door open for me before I’d even untangled my handbag from the seatbelt. ‘I don’t mean to upset you but you need to do something about it. See a doctor back home, one who knows Savants, if you don’t want me to touch you.’ He was a bit angry but I couldn’t help the fact that I just didn’t want anyone messing with me.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that. See doctor. Thanks.’ I extended the handle of my suitcase and started trundling it across the tarmac.

  ‘Goodbye, Crystal.’

  I glanced back; he was leaning against his car watching me with the strangest look on his face. Xav, serious—no, that just did not seem right. I was really scared now.

  ‘Bye. Thanks for the lift.’

  ‘No problem. Take care.’

  I ran for the terminal, wishing my suitcase didn’t make such a racket as it bounced along behind me. I’m not sure why I felt so panicked. I think I was fleeing from the fear that he had found out that I was not even one of them. I had always believed I was some aberration, an offshoot from a true Savant. Was the truth written in my brain somehow?

  As I queued to drop my bag, he sent me a text.

  Hey, Lion, Let me know how it goes with the doctor. Androcles

  That was the second time he’d mentioned that character. I quickly googled the name and read the legend of the Roman slave who removes the thorn from the foot of a wounded lion. I now knew what my reply should be.

  Grrr.

  Rio d’Incurabili, Dorsodur
o, Venice

  I let myself in to the courtyard through the canalside gate and dumped my shopping bags on the little mosaic garden table.

  ‘Hey, gorgeous.’ I knelt down to give Nonna’s old cat, Barozzi, a scratch under the chin. This lazy marmalade general of the feline world had taken the plinth under the tabletop as his command post, the spot from where he hissed challenges to Signora Carriera’s beagle and gazed disdainfully at the birds who had long since rumbled to the fact that he was too bone-idle to chase them. I could hear Rocco barking inside the downstairs apartment. The signora had sent me home early (by which she meant when it was still daylight) to walk him for her. I got out my keys. ‘Ten second warning, Barozzi: Rocco is about to be unleashed.’

  Barozzi closed his eyes. He was right not to be impressed: Rocco’s idea of being a fierce dog was to let out a barrage of hysterical barking. Any hint of opposition from the cat and he fled to my skirts. Dogs are small in Venice due to lack of living space but the cats grow large as it is a paradise of many mice and no cars: the natural order reversed.

  Opening the heavy locks of our neighbour’s front door, I let the beagle free to do a preliminary sniff round the garden while I mounted the external staircase to our second floor flat. Venice gets newer the higher you go: Signora Carriera’s apartment was late medieval, heavy timber beams and gloomy rooms. Ours had been added later and was only a few hundred years old, the ceilings high with plenty of light. As I put the groceries on the kitchen counter I could look out across the little courtyard with its strings of washing, tiny patio, and masses of potted plants to the high wall and then to the Canale della Guidecca, the broad stretch of water that separated Venice proper from its satellite islands. The sun was sinking over the cranes and roofs of the Guidecca suburb opposite, nearly horizontal shafts staining the pale walls of the kitchen apricot and reminding me that I didn’t have long if I wanted to walk Rocco in the light.

  Changing into a pair of black running shorts and white T, I shuffled off my smart work shoes and swapped them for trainers. Xav’s warning about seeing a doctor a few weeks ago had made me more conscious about my fitness and I had taken up running. Much to my own surprise, I was even enjoying it. It had given me the excuse not to see any medical person. Without Diamond to bully me into going, I would never enter a clinic on my own. As the running proved, I felt fine, so that meant I was fine. And I was fortunate I lived on one of the few stretches of Venetian streets where it was possible to jog in a straight line. The broad pavement called the Zattere that went along the edge of the Canale made a decent track and was not too crowded with tourists.