The Book Keeper

by Amelia Grace

  ‘You look beautiful!’ I whispered to her. She smiled at me and a tear fell from the corner of her eye. I breathed in and out deeply, and smiled coyly at her whilst the pastor welcomed us all to our marriage ceremony.

  Within fifteen minutes, Georgia Harrison became Mrs Cohen Darcy, we were declared husband and wife before God and our families, and we left the church floating on our love.

  We shared in a mouth watering wedding breakfast with our families before heading off to catch an international flight to our honeymoon destination, still unknown to my beautiful wife.

  I never pictured that the Pacific Ocean was so vast. It appeared that it would never end until the islands of our destination came into view. The French Polynesian Islands. They looked small from the air. The dark green vegetation outlined by the white beaches and the the vivid shades of emerald, turquoise, azure and royal blue waters was captivating. Georgia looked mesmerized as we circled Bora Bora before we descended to land.

  ‘Mrs Darcy, we have arrived,’ I whispered into her ear.

  She squeezed my hand.

  ‘Mr Darcy, you are incredible. This is every woman’s dream honeymoon. Definitely a thousand hearts and flowers!’ Georgia said, her voice quiet, and then she kissed me lightly on the lips.

  We transferred from the airport to the shuttle boat and then off to the Hilton Bora Bora Hui Resort Spa.

  I held Georgia’s hand as we walked along the jetty to our Over Water Villa. The deepest blue water of Tahiti was here, and our villa sat over it. I walked in silence beside Georgia. For one, I was taking in the magic of Bora Bora, and two, I wanted to see and hear Georgia’s reactions to my choice in accommodation where we would spend our first week as husband and wife.

  A gentle breeze played with Georgia’s hair as she looked out over the deep blue waters of the lagoon. Her face was angelic in it’s pure bliss. Her beauty radiated from within her. My heart skipped a beat or ten as I ogled this amazing woman who was now my wife. My. Wife.

  We stopped at the front entrance to our Villa. I unlocked the door, and then lifted Georgia up into my arms to carry her over the threshold. She giggled in delight as I performed this age old ritual with ease. I pushed the front door closed behind me with my foot, and then kissed Georgia lightly before I placed her feet back onto the polished wooden floorboards.

  She twirled around as she looked at the interior of the Villa. It was nothing short of spectacular. The ceilings were high and woven, and were composed of a wood and white theme. The walls and furniture featured deep, rich woods. A king size canopy bed dominated the room. It’s dark timber contrasting to the white linen bed dressings, and light airy white curtains hanging from the canopy, gathered at the four corner posts. It oozed romance.

  I heard water lapping underneath the Villa, and was drawn to a glass floor panel that showcased the amazing lagoon and marine life below. We both lay on our stomachs to look through the glass. Immediately, we were held spellbound at the sight beneath our Villa, a marine habitat teaming with life and colour right underneath us. Personally, I was in awe. I rolled over onto my back and looked to my left. Glass opening doors opened to a large deck area where we could dine or sit on the padded sun-lounges.

  The entire Villa was unforgettable. It was what dreams were made of. It would hold in our memories forever. I reached over for Georgia’s hand, and moved it to my lips, brushing them lightly against her skin before I kissed her hand.

  ‘I love you Georgia. Here’s to the beginning of the rest of our lives together,’ I said, my voice low, emotional. Georgia turned her head to the side and smiled at me, melting my heart.

  ‘And I love you Cohen, the man who captured my heart,’ she replied before she moved over and kissed me teasingly, and then passionately, accelerating my beating heart and my desire for her.

  She pulled away as she heard the knock on the door. I got up and answered it. It was of course our luggage, and a note informing us of our dinner that would be served on deck at sunset, a gift in celebration for our marriage.

  ‘Mrs Darcy, may I serve you champagne out on the deck overlooking the lagoon whilst I unpack our trunks,’ I asked my new wife. She smiled at me, and then curtsied.

  ‘Merci,’ she replied. I took her hand gently in mine and lead her outside to a sun lounge. I kissed her forehead and then disappeared inside, poured two flutes of champagne and returned to her.

  ‘Pour ma belle epouse, for my beautiful wife,’ I said smoothly as I handed her the champagne.

  ‘Merci mon mari belle, thank-you my beautiful husband,’ she replied, her voice silky, luring. I bowed to her and then returned inside the Villa to organise our suitcases.

  I returned to Georgia a short while later. She looked remarkably relaxed. Was it the location or the champagne, or perhaps a combination of the two?

  ‘Mon amour, my love,’ I said as I sat beside her on the sun lounge.

  ‘Mon amant, my lover, soon to be,’ she responded, looking into my eyes seductively. I leant in to kiss her, lightly at first, until she deepened the kiss making my head spin. I pulled away from her, having difficulty catching my breath.

  ‘The sun is setting, dinner will be here soon, my Heart,’ I said, my voice husky.

  ‘Aye,’ she responded, running her fingers over my lips, leaving an electrical trail in their path.

  And right on cue, the doorbell rang. Dinner had arrived. I left Georgia once again to open the door for room service. With professionalism, an amazing assortment of delectable foods was placed upon the outdoor dining table for us, adorned with five candles to set the romance of the evening. As I seated Georgia at the table, I looked over at the sunset. Everything was perfect.

  I picked up my wine glass.

  ‘To my beautiful wife, thank-you for everything, merci,’ I said, starting to choke up as I spoke the words. Georgia smiled shyly at me.

  ‘To my amazing husband, you make my heart sing, merci,’ she said, and then clinked her glass with mine, and sipped her white wine, our eyes lost in each other.

  After the sun had melted into the ocean, and the first stars twinkled in the night sky like diamonds, the dark clouds moved in. And with them the first drops of rain.

  Georgia and I rushed inside the Villa, closed some windows and then stood and listened to the rain falling upon the roof. I stood behind Georgia, wrapped my arms around her and pulled her against my body. She relaxed against me, and rested her head against my shoulder.

  ‘J’aime la pluie,’ she whispered.

  ‘I love the rain too my love,’ I responded, then lowered my head and kissed her bare shoulder, and then her neck and below her ear.

  ‘I’m so in love with you Georgia,’ I said, becoming hungry for her.

  She turned around in my arms facing me, and then ran her hands up my chest to the back of my neck.

  ‘And I’m deeply and madly in love with you,’ she whispered against my lips before I kissed her passionately. She moaned as I deepened the kiss, and then her fingers worked busily unbuttoning my shirt, and removing my trousers, my underwear.

  ‘Mr Darcy, you’re not running away from me tonight?’ she asked teasingly as she ran her fingers lightly over my skin, sending tingles throughout my entire being.

  ‘You are the fox that is making me melt,’ I answered her, covering her face and neck in kisses.

  ‘Then do I have permission to eat you up Mr Darcy?’ she asked licking her lips.

  ‘Certainly Mrs Darcy, I surrender myself to you. I am all yours, now and forever,’ I answered looking deeply into her eyes.

  ‘Cohen,’ she whispered before kissing me again. I pulled away.

  ‘Turn around wife, so that I can undo the thousand buttons that keep me from caressing your beautiful body,’ I ordered. Georgia smiled at me before she about faced.

  I kissed her skin at each button that I unfastened. Her skin was so soft, so warm, she smelled sensuous sending my senses into overdrive.

  At the last button, I ran my fingers over her pe
rfect back, and then pushed the straps of her dress off her shoulders, letting her outfit fall to the floor. She stood naked before me.

  I kissed her shoulder and her neck, and then turned her to face me. Her body was unblemished, sensuous.

  ‘Georgia,’ I whispered, as I moved my lips to hers and caressed her body before pulling her body against mine. I was struggling to keep my strong desire for her under control. I had to take my time. I couldn’t rush anything.

  I bent down and picked her up in my arms, and carried her to the king sized bed.

  Gently I placed her in the centre of the bed. She looked up at me longingly, and then pulled me down on top of her.

  ‘Mon amant,’ she whispered.

  As the rain fell with more intent on the roof of the Villa, and the lightning lit up the heavens with its applause of thunder, Georgia and I sealed our love, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm, our hearts beating as one.

  I had given her my gift of purity, as she had done also to me. Our emotional, spiritual and physical bond could not be broken. Our marriage vows were sacred, written across our hearts.

  I could never have imagined that our love could be so powerful, so encompassing. It has been said, that love conquers all, and now I truly believe it, understand it.

  This was the beginning of our lives together, and I was truly blessed, and deeply thankful.

  Chapter 25

  It was time to burst our bubble of wedded bliss, and return to the land of the living after an absolutely mind-blowing honeymoon on the Tahitian Islands.

  Our return to reality was bumpy as we sorted out our belongings, moving my possessions to Georgia’s apartment. Perhaps I should have taken her up on moving my stuff before the wedding, and then we could have spent our time indulging in desires of the flesh. But then again, being forced to wait for our physical union seemed to make it even more sweeter, more intense.

  As I lugged the last box of my belongings out the door of my old apartment, Jack came running up to me. He held something in his hand.

  ‘Mate, you left this behind,’ he said huffing and puffing as he held up a brown leather book.

  ‘Oh, yeah, the bloody book,’ I remarked. He flicked through the pages, I could see writing everywhere on every page, even illustrations or diagrams or such. I raised my eyebrows surprised that I could now see the text. Bloody book!

  ‘Strangest book that I’ve ever seen. Blank pages don’t come bound in brown leather jackets like that anymore,’ Jack remarked, and then smiled at me. ‘I’ll miss you buddy. And I’ll be looking for you at work. Don’t be a stranger!’ he said as he patted me heavily on the back.

  ‘Right back at you, and ah…..thanks….ah…..thanks for everything,’ I managed to launch out of my jumbled mouth. I nodded to him and then turned to venture to load my car, and head off to my new life with my amazing, beautiful wife.

  I parked the car on the side of the busy road, grabbed the old torn box, and then hoofed it across the busy road. In doing so, I heard the dull thud of the object that had slipped off the top of the jammed box. Once I reached the pavement, I turned to see the bloody book sitting in the middle of the road. And within ten seconds, a truck came along and ran over it, and then a car, and a bus, each time the bloody book moved towards the opposite side of the road until it was sitting in the gutter.

  Relieved, I placed the box onto the pavement, and prepared to cross the busy road to retrieve the bloody book. At that moment, an old lady picked it up and tossed it into the waste bin, and then the garbage truck arrived emptying the bowels of the rubbish bin into the belly of the truck. And just like that, the bloody book was gone. This time for good.

  After being run over, ripped apart with a loss of innards, thrown into a rubbish bin and jammed into the stinky crap of the Refuse Truck, there was no way that the bloody book could survive.

  One part of me was saddened, the other freed from the burden of the bloody book. But life is like that. One door closes, another one opens.

  I ran my hand through my hair, picked up the box from the pavement, and then headed towards the apartment building.

  I strode into the apartment grounds rearranging my clothing, and running my hands through my hair, hoping that I smelt good and didn’t look past my use by date after all of the moving that I had done.

  I pushed the buttons to Georgia’s apartment. .

  ‘Bonjour Ami,’ she answered.

  ‘Ah, yeah….. livraison de pain d'épice pour Miss Georgia,’ I responded.

  ‘Entrer Monsieur, ‘ Georgia said.

  ‘Merci,' I said, smiling to myself.

  As I opened the door to her enormous smile, I knew that life couldn’t get any better.

  ‘Mr Darcy, where are the gingerbread men that you had to deliver?’ she asked.

  ‘They ran away,’ I answered as I leaned in to kiss my wife.

  ‘Good, the apartment was getting too crowded with them living here as well,’ she said.

  She helped me sort my stuff before we finally put our feet up.

  ‘Cohen, where is the book?’ she suddenly asked.

  ‘Well….I did have it with the last box, but an unbelievable catastrophic chain of events separated the book from me. It was totally destroyed. I saw it. It is irreparable. It’s kinda sad you know. It did have sentimental value because it brought us together. It was unique. And I could finally see the text on the pages. Eerie, weird. It is definitely gone, never to be seen again,’ I said morosely.

  ‘You think?’ Georgia remarked. ‘We’ll see Mr Darcy. It is a book of circumstance, of revelations. It’s inspiration lies in its ability to surprise even the true unbeliever. You’ll see,’ she commented in a thought provoking way.

  ‘Mutato Nomine De Te Fabula Narratur,’ I recited from the brown leather cover of the bloody book.

  ‘With the name changed, the story applies to you…..’ Georgia whispered, ‘ a special book indeed.’

  Epilogue….

  I saw him before he saw me.

  Good.

  I wanted to look him over. Having a clone of oneself was absolutely intriguing, spooky even. Excellent fodder for the nature versus nurture debate.

  He stood under the white marquee at the front entrance of the five star restaurant. He wore black trousers and a white long sleeve shirt. He looked exactly like me, the way that he held his posture, and the way that he positioned his head, chin slightly down. The only difference was the styling of his hair. His dark brown hair was shaved quite short, whilst mine was short back and sides, a longish fringe and sculptured side burns.

  As soon as he saw me, he smiled shyly, and then looked to the ground in front of him. Was he as nervous as me about our meeting? As soon as he looked back up I smiled and nodded at him, and as I came closer, I held out my hand in greeting.

  As soon as our skin touched, a cold shiver ran down my spine. It was like shaking my own hand. Weird. Odd.

  I kept telling myself I am not he, and he is not me. We have separate bodies, heartbeats, minds, feelings, souls, consciousness of thought.

  ‘Ethan,’ I said to him, masking my nervousness in my voice.

  ‘Cohen,’ he replied, ‘I am so very thankful that we can meet.’

  ‘Curiosity got the better of me brother,’ I remarked. He smiled a genuine smile, free of the tension that was on his face before, and then indicated for us to enter the restaurant.

  We sat opposite each other at the table. Normally, I would observe the table ware and décor and comment on their beauty, if I was with a woman. But I didn’t even notice the table setting in front of me. I was busy scanning Ethan’s face, his expressions, his mannerisms.

  ‘Thank-you for saving my life Ethan,’ I said to break the uncomfortable silence as we sat down. I clasped my hands on the table in front of me. Strangely Ethan did the same thing at the same time, but then when he saw what we had done, he moved his hands apart.

  ‘I was glad to be able to help you. Saving lives is what I do. We very nearly lost you
to eternity, but I was damned if I was going to let that happen,’ he remarked.

  ‘Aah, but then you could have had the girl while I played pushing up daisies,’ I added. He chuckled at my comment, and I felt more at ease with him.

  Why was I sitting here in this fine restaurant with my clone? There were so many reasons, but the top of the list of questions, foremost was, I wanted to know if he was a good guy. I had always wondered about have a double somewhere else on the earth. Would one be good and the other the exact opposite? This question also related to my clone.

  ‘How long have you known that you were not born of the womb?’ I asked, getting down to the nitty gritty.

  ‘You mean a clone?’ he asked, wanting clarification of my question.

  ‘No. I mean ‘of the womb’. You could have been transferred to the womb of a surrogate mother, had the scientists chosen that path to follow,’ I elaborated.

  ‘That is true Cohen. You have done some research I notice…..from the age of seven, my scientist fathers – plural, were very open with me about my coming into being. But I believed that the artificial sterile environment that I was raised in was the norm for all people. I became aware of my abnormality at the age of thirteen when I started studying medicine, and hence the creation of life.’

  ‘How did you feel when you learned about natural conception of life?’ I asked.

  ‘I was……very angry, hostile even. The grieving process, you know. But now I have accepted it. I have mourned the loss of a different ‘normal’ type of childhood……you can’t go back and change things you know…..’ He stopped talking. The pained expression on his face told me that the memories of growing up were still particularly raw. I felt extreme sorrow for him, and guilt. Guilt that my childhood was so happy, loving and nurturing.

  ‘I am glad that we met Ethan. I don’t feel so alone in the world now, if you can understand that,’ I added.

  He put his hands over his face, ran his hands through his hair, and then wiped away a tear as he looked up at me.