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He's Her (The Vicarage Bench Series)

Page 6

by Mimi Barbour


  “I don’t want better. I want you.”

  “Thanks, I think.” His droll spark of fun brought a smile to join the relief on her face.

  “Rhett, you are a good man. You’ve taught me about human nature. To open my eyes and see people as they really are and not how I want to see them. From you I’ve learnt that I’m every person’s equal and I can demand to be treated respectfully. Most of all, you’ve shown me the beauty of love between a man and a woman, and I want to feel it again and again, but with you. Only with you.”

  “Well, sugar, then I guess we’d better find out where I am. Sounds strangely bizarre put like that, doesn’t it?” He chuckled at his own joke.

  She giggled in reaction. It was an emotional valve, like the one used in a steam cooker before there’s a chance of it blowing up. “I’ll go and find Nurse Freise.”

  The disconcerted nurse faltered when Carrie approached. Her head bent down for a second as if to beg for help from a hidden source. Her shoulders lifted as her resolve strengthened. She put both hands on her desk and pushed herself upwards.

  “My dear, I’m most terribly sorry for the way things worked out. Such a shame!”

  “Where is Mr. Parks, nurse?”

  “Mr. Parks’ brother flew in yesterday morning. He got permission from the doctors to move his brother and took him back to America on the evening flight. Seems he was in a hurry to get back to Vegas to keep the family business afloat until such time as his brother wakes up. A truly strange phenomenon indeed, Mr. Parks was. Had all the specialists scratching their heads—except that is, for our own Dr. Andrews.”

  “Dr. Andrews?” Carrie’s ears perked up, listening to the nurse’s chatter.

  “Psychiatry is his field of expertise, and he’s quite brilliant. He consults on many unusual cases. He became very insistent that I pass on his card and impress on you, Miss Temple, how imperative it is for you to call on him. He wishes to speak with you personally. His instructions were for you to see him at his office, which is in his home. You’re to go there at any time convenient to yourself. Bless my soul, the man was adamant that you seek him out. If you wish to use the telephone here, I’m sure it would be acceptable, under the circumstances.”

  “You’re most kind, nurse, thank you so much.”

  “Not at all, dearie.”

  The older woman’s sharp scrutiny had noticed the telltale signs of tears on Carrie’s cheeks, and Carrie appreciated the nurse’s compassion.

  Soon after Carrie called the doctor, she was ringing the doorbell at Dr. Andrews’ house. While she waited, she felt an uplifting of spirits, a flow of positive thinking that came along with her habit of looking on the bright side of every situation.

  “Your cheeriness is driving me crazy. Why are you so happy?”

  “Why are you so negative? Rhett, have some faith in Dr. Andrews. He has wonderful credentials. This is 1967, not the middle ages. Psychiatry has become an accepted form of medicine today and has helped many people.”

  “Right. Crazy people. These guys are all a bunch of shysters. My stepmother has been fleeced for years by a psychiatrist and, if anything, he’s made her meaner and nastier than ever.”

  “I’m sure there are charlatans in every branch of medicine, but what do we have to lose? He’s the only professional person who has shown any interest in your situation, and until we hear what he has to say, I want to feel good about it.”

  “Fine! We’ll talk to him, but afterwards, I’m afraid, we’ll need to make travel arrangements. You have to take me to Vegas, as my strength seems to be waning, maybe because my body is so far away.”

  “Rhett, what a right pair of idiots we are. Of course there’d be a difference. But how can we travel? I don’t have any money, and I need to work. And what about the Poppets? How ever can I leave them?”

  Just then the door opened and a studious-looking, middle-aged man stepped out and reached for Carrie’s hand. “Hello, my dear. I’m Dr. Andrews. You must be Miss Temple.” The doctor’s bifocals were perched halfway down his nose, and he peered over them to assess the woman in front of him. “I believe you were with young Mr. Parks when the unfortunate incident occurred.”

  “Yes, I’m Carrie Temple. I’m very relieved you could see me today.” Her instinctive trust for this man had her relaxing instantly.

  “Please, come into my office and take a seat.” He led her into a spacious older home sparkling with cleanliness and order. Carrie thought vaguely he must have a housekeeper or a wife to look after him.

  “What if he keeps it this way all by himself?” Rhett couldn’t help but point out the possibility.

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “I stand corrected. Well, I would stand if I had any legs.”

  “That’s why we’re here.”

  “May I offer you a cup of tea or a glass of sherry?”

  “No, thank you, Dr. Andrews. Why did you wish to see me so urgently?”

  “I want you to explain exactly what occurred on the day Mr. Parks blacked out. It’s imperative you not forget anything. I need to know, in sequence, everything, absolutely everything, that happened.” So saying, he sat in a comfy brown leather chair across from her and picked up a writing tablet and a pencil.

  Carrie told him about walking towards the unsmiling man and feeling taken aback by the grumpy look he’d given her when she smiled at him.

  “He made me so nervous that as I cut the rose to bring to my Gran I unexpectedly pricked my finger. I felt a bit uncomfortable, almost faint, for a moment. I remember I sat down on the same bench, next to Mr. Parks, and if I’m not mistaken I dropped the rose and he picked it up. I rather think he may have pricked his finger also, because he flinched and then dropped it. That’s the last thing I remember him doing before he stiffened and fell over.”

  The doctor put his writing implements down slowly, leaned towards Carrie, and scooped both her hands gently into his. He smiled into her eyes and said something so disconcerting that she couldn’t catch her breath.

  “Mr. Parks,” he said, “can you hear me? I’d like to talk with you, now, if you don’t mind.” His voice was adamant and knowing.

  Carrie smiled and relaxed while a deeper timbre answered the confident man. “I’m astounded, Doctor. How did you know what happened? And that I’ve joined with Carrie?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve had previous experience with that particular rosebush and bench. How are you feeling, Mr. Parks? Are you quite comfortable?”

  “Please call me Rhett. I’m experiencing a sense of weakness now, with my body so far away. Sir, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to be back with my own flesh and bones. Can you help us?”

  “Yes, my dear fellow. I feel completely optimistic. I do believe I can. But it won’t be possible until your body is brought back. We need all of you here. We can do nothing until then. I do promise you, though, that making the exchange is achievable.”

  The two people—three new friends—spent the next hours going over all the circumstances, and one thing became abundantly clear. Carrie would be flying to Las Vegas.

  Thank goodness for the two hundred pounds she’d robbed. Maybe crime did pay after all.

  ***

  Arranging for the time off work was exhausting. Mr. Browning resembled a belligerent twit, but Carrie persevered and left his office victorious. Her stomach, twisted in knots, ached for hours afterwards, while her interior companion fumed silently. In the end, she accepted the discomfort and considered it a small price to pay for a trip she’d never envisioned making.

  The Poppets were surprisingly supportive and encouraged her to take the holiday. The fib she concocted, about being hired as a companion to travel to the States with the fellow in the hospital, was accepted without question. In fact, her grandmother insisted on a shopping trip, in order for Carrie to get some new clothes, and even purchased a new suitcase to put them in. Her grandfather slipped her an envelope as she stepped toward the taxi waiting to take her to the airport
. His orders were barked in a joking tone accompanied by a cheeky wink. “Have a spot of fun, Carrie, or you’ll feel the back of me hand on your backside, if you don’t.”

  Chapter Nine

  Carrie arrived in the fun city late the next evening. From the window of the plane the city looked like a thickly jewelled necklace spread over a sea of black velvet. The place hummed with activity. Even the buildings, teeming with people, seemed alive. Each casino’s thousands of coloured lights were as active as a continuous fireworks display and the brilliance kept the darkness of the night from intruding anywhere in the downtown limits.

  Her eyes were rounded pools of amazed disbelief as the taxi delivered her to an ostentatious, flamboyantly decorated building. What looked like a fairground, including a fake roller coaster, was plastered over the outside of the building, depicted in a variety of different coloured lights. Her mouth open, her neck stretched, she stared at the happy crowds of noisy guests coming and going from the dazzlingly grandiose entrance.

  Counting out the unfamiliar money to the chatty taxi driver gave her a moment of discomfort, but with Rhett’s help she soon paid him his fare, adding a substantial tip. The talkative fellow hadn’t stopped his recital about the highlights of the city since they’d left the airport, but he was a happy chap, and she had been delighted with his informational exuberance.

  Rhett wasn’t. Probably due to the stress of the last few days, his attitude had become increasingly more difficult. Carrie had felt ready to pull her hair out by the time they landed.

  She slowly made her way inside the casino, her head swivelling like a bobblehead doll, eager to see in every direction at once. The cacophony of sounds stunned her. Liveliness such as she’d never witnessed before abounded, sparking her youthful appreciation for excitement.

  “Oh darling, what a wonderful place.”

  “It is something else, isn’t it? Looking at it through your eyes and with your reactions has made me see it in a totally new and refreshing way. ”

  Her driver cheerfully led the way to the reception desk and set her one modest suitcase near her feet.

  “Thanks, ma’am. Great gabbing with you. Hope you have a wonderful time here, and don’t forget—call me if you want to be chauffeured around the city. Here’s my card.”

  “Thank you for an informative drive, Mr. O’Nalley. I will call you if I have time to see the sights. Take care of your two boys, and tell your wife she’s right lucky to have such a nice husband.”

  Carrie found his blush only added to the sweetness of his personality. She wasn’t aware her sincere interest had adjusted his normally disgruntled behaviour, or that her friendliness had loosened his reserve and encouraged him to blather on about his personal affairs.

  Still under the glow of Mr. O’Nalley’s friendliness, Carrie was unequal to dealing with the snippy girl in reception. It took only a few minutes for Rhett to take over and handle the difficult desk clerk who had at first refused her request for an immediate interview with Ashley Parks. A quick phone call by the chastised girl and Carrie was cleared to see him in fifteen minutes, just enough time for her to freshen up after her long flight.

  She slipped into a honey-coloured cashmere dress that emphasized her colouring and draped her figure, showing off her stunning, long-legged build. A string of pearls, secreted in her makeup case by her grandmother, adorned the front of the garment and further softened the tone. From the restored hairdo of twisted gold encircling her head to the suede pumps on her feet, a perfect match to the color of her dress, she looked warm and golden.

  Standing in front of the mirror, she heard Rhett whistle in her mind and she giggled.

  “You look too damn good for my little brother.”

  “Why, thank you, kind sir.” She curtsied. “I guess I can’t put it off any longer. Best to get it over with. I only hope he doesn’t call Security and have me booted out of the hotel.”

  She expected a difficult meeting awaited her and would have preferred to put it off until morning. But Rhett would have none of that.

  “I couldn’t bear the wait. Our priorities are clear—get Ashley on board and get me back to England where that damn bench awaits. The sooner we get started, the sooner I can relax.”

  “Yes, please do. Relax, I mean. Your nerves are tearing my insides apart. But you’re right. We shouldn’t put it off.”

  Soon, Carrie stood in front of Ashley’s closed door. Nervously, she rethought and practised the words she would use to convince the man of the impossible. “What if he doesn’t believe us, Rhett?”

  “He will, don’t worry. Go right in.”

  She ignored his direction and knocked. The man who opened the door to her was a smaller version of his older brother. The similarity astonished her.

  “You must be Carrie Temple. Please, come in. My name is Ashley Parks.”

  The front desk had obviously warned him she would be arriving. He was prepared with his welcome. She instantly liked his eyes, which sparkled with a love of life. His good humour was revealed by the many laugh lines of his face, and she felt like he was an old friend from the get-go. His mouth smiled with kindness, and his soft handshake held Carrie’s longer than strictly necessary or appropriate.

  “Yes, I’m Carrie Temple. Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Mr. Parks.”

  “My pleasure. Please. This way.” He stepped back from the door and invitingly held it open with one hand while waving her towards a pair of comfy-looking, plush red sofas with the other. The sofas faced each other and were straddled on either end by square oriental tables of carved wood. On the farthest wall, overwhelming the room with its reflections, hung a huge, round, bevelled mirror, ornately framed in gold.

  A black lacquered chest sat under the mirror and the intricately painted Chinese dragons arrayed on the front were eye-catching. Arranged on the top of the chest was a Chinese vase full of red flowers, fresh and exotically tall. Their strange scent filled the room and mixed pleasantly with the smell of cigarette smoke wafting up from an ashtray on the table nearest Carrie.

  “Can I get you a glass of wine?” Ashley asked her politely.

  “Yes, please. White, if you have any.” Carrie unconsciously caressed the sofa’s lushness, even as she was biting off all her freshly applied lipstick.

  Ashley walked over to a large liquor tray on wheels and poured wine into two long-stemmed crystal goblets.

  She watched him move smoothly and experienced an instant affection for Rhett’s handsome brother.

  “He’s a ladies’ man. Don’t be taken in by his smooth ways. He goes for anything in skirts.” Rhett, in a snit, was once again pushing her buttons.

  “Thank you, kind sir. I like being referred to as ‘anything’.”

  “Don’t get cute. You know what I mean. Watch his hands and watch him.”

  “You’re being cheeky and bloody silly.” Her patience was wearing thin.

  She took the opportunity to check out the large and sumptuous working space at the other end of the oversized room. The black lacquered desk was huge, situated in a rounded corner between two floor-to-ceiling open windows. Silky golden drapes and valances framed the breathtaking view of lights from The Strip, Vegas’s main street of casinos. The ivory-coloured shaggy carpeting spread so thick and lush her high heels sank into it. It was a man’s room, large and luxurious, and it reminded her of Rhett.

  “Yep, Sweetheart, it’s my office.”

  “Okay, Miss Temple, what can I do for you?” Ashley passed her glass over, his fingers brushing hers. “I know you were the last person to see my brother before his breakdown, and for that reason I’ve made the time to speak with you, but I’m remarkably busy. Please tell me why you’re so all fired up to talk with me. I have to admit your message of urgency intrigued me.”

  “I appreciate your seeing me. I’m afraid I have rather disturbing news, but Dr. Andrews assured me we would need your help.”

  “Dr. Andrews? The bumbling idiot who was the so-called expe
rt your English doctors referred me to? He rambled on like an old fool about rosebushes and time travel and some such nonsense. Let me tell you, I couldn’t get Rhett away from that quack fast enough. Silly old...”

  Interrupting Ashley, and for the first time out loud in front of another person, Carrie called on her intimate guest for help.

  “Rhett, talk to your brother. I’m off.”

  The young man’s body stiffened.

  “Ashley, you will listen to me and do not interrupt. Dr. Andrews is not a quack. He is completely correct in what he told you. Don’t look at Carrie that way. I’m speaking, using her voice, but these are my words. Ashley, sit down, you knucklehead, before you fall down.”

  Ashley had risen at the change in Carrie’s tone of voice and mannerisms. His face whitened. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out. The glass clutched in his hand tipped and allowed a sudden splash of wine to fall.

  “Are you paying attention?” Carrie’s speech deepened further and took on his brother’s exact accent.

  At the barked question, Ashley fell over the black leather hassock directly behind him and rolled to the floor. The glass disappeared with him. He scurried, crawling, as far away from the strange woman as possible. He was completely spooked.

  “Get over here, you silly fool.” Disgust for the young man’s behaviour became evident. “Settle down and listen. I have no time for this nonsense. I want you to take my body back to Dr. Andrews as soon as it can be arranged. He knows exactly how to undo this mess that Carrie got us into.”

  Her voice changed back to her own lovely sound except that it was higher and slightly squeaky.

  “Me? Well, I like that. You’re the silly sod who picked up my rose and got yourself pricked. I didn’t force you.” Carrie’s niceness level had been breached. She slapped her hands on her knees and shot to her feet. She stomped three paces, then realized Ashley was scuttling away from her. His eyes were wild and huge. She made herself take a deep breath. Rhett, in the meantime, knowing he’d pushed her too far, took the wisest course. He faded.

 

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