The Guardian's Protector: The Chamber of Souls (31 page)

‘Merry Christmas,’ she offered, holding her manicured nails out for Mark to take her hand.

‘Merry Christmas to you too,’ he returned, taking her hand and reluctantly kissing it. ‘It’s nice to meet you.’ Amy noticed he wasn’t impressed. Amy could also see why he wouldn’t be: her shade was the darkest grey she’d ever seen.

Joan shouted her greeting from the kitchen while Thomas came out.

‘Nice to see you again, Mark,’ Thomas said, shaking his hand.

‘It’s nice to see you too, Thomas,’ Mark responded sincerely, but Amy noticed a quizzical look appear on his face when he did. Catching Amy’s eye, Mark changed his expression at once. Before Amy could ask, Joan and Frank brought through casserole dishes filled with vegetables, roast potatoes, parsnips and gravy.

They sat at the beautifully laid table and as the smell of food hit Amy’s nostrils, her stomach gave a loud growl. Once everyone was seated, Joan tapped her knife and fork together, making everyone face her.

‘I would like to say how thankful I am that we are all together for this meal.’ Amy looked at her confusedly; she’d never given a speech before.

‘Hear, hear,’ Thomas offered, raising an empty champagne glass. ‘Oh, I forgot to pour,’ he added, panicking as he stood to reach the bottle of wine in the centre of the table. He popped it open and, looking embarrassed, poured the adults a drink.

Amy thought his behaviour was odd but, as no one else seemed to notice, she held up her glass, smiled and clicked it together with everyone. As Amy and Mark locked eyes and smiled at each other, Joan sighed as if they were a couple. As she did, Amy witnessed Alicia’s shade darken. It was rather strange to watch, especially as her facial expression remained the same: one of faked happiness. Amy wondered how she could keep such a front when she was obviously feeling some kind of peeved envy.

Amy saw Mark witness it too. Amy turned to Tom, who was chatting away to Francesca, and wondered how he must feel every time her shade darkened when she spoke to him. After everyone ladled food from the dishes onto their plates and began to tuck in, Thomas turned to Amy and smiled.

‘So how was your day at the kitchen, then?’ he asked.

‘Great,’ Amy said. ‘It’s so nice to help out. It gives you a real sense of Christmas spirit.’ Mark smiled at her and as he did, Alicia’s shade deepened. Amy felt just as embarrassed by her shade changing as if she’d said something snide. Although Mark noticed, he didn’t seem fazed. Amy realised he must come across people like her all the time. Amy also realised how she must have looked when she vented her hurt at him and felt deeply sorry.

‘Tom spent some of his savings on hats, scarves and gloves for everyone,’ Mark reported, proud of him.

‘Are you for real or what?’ Alicia asked Amy. ‘Why are you letting him spend his money on
tramps
?’ She made the statement as though she was concerned for Tom and his bank account.

‘Because it’s
his
money! He has a right to do what he wants with it!’ Amy argued, thinking her own shade must have darkened as she did. Tom looked up with worried eyes.

‘And he wants to spend it on
tramps
?’ Frank put in, in an attempt to back up his wife.

‘I know!’ Alicia countered, her shade brightening. She turned her head to Mark. ‘No wonder she’s never had anything in her life. You do realise she’ll never be able to afford to get out of your home, Mark? It wouldn’t surprise me if that was her plan. Aren’t you worried she’ll bleed you dry?’ Alicia spoke to him as if from one affluent mind to another, hoping he would laugh in Amy’s face.

Amy turned to him, knowing he would do no such thing, but wondering what he would say in response. Mark gently laid his knife and fork down on his plate and looked round the table. Joan’s shade was flickering from light to dark, a nervous look on her face. Frank and Thomas remained the same—bright shades of grey.

‘Let me see how best to answer your question.’ Mark’s hand was on his chin in deep contemplation. Alicia leant forward, intrigued by his manner; Amy could’ve sworn she was flirting. ‘I was actually thinking about Amy and the money situation…and you’ve helped me make a decision.’ He turned to Amy and, holding her hand and smiling, his eyes brightened. ‘If we were to ever get
married
…’ he began slowly, revelling in the utter shock of everyone, ‘…we would share a joint bank account. Amy would then be in charge of all the finances. I’m not as good as she is with money.’

‘What?’ Alicia said but Mark turned back to look at Amy.

‘In fact,’ he added, ‘that’s such a good idea, I think you should do it now. But you’re right, Alicia,’ he continued, looking back at her like they were friends, ‘she’s never had anything, so I’d make sure she spent lots of money on herself regularly!’ He finished with his most charming smile and as Alicia’s face turned beetroot, her shade a lead grey, Thomas held in a laugh.

Alicia abruptly stood with her plate and stomped into the kitchen while Joan chased after her.

‘Can I help you with the washing up, Joan?’ Mark offered, as if he had done nothing at all wrong.

‘Err…no…thank you,’ she responded, giving him an awkward smile.

Mark turned to Thomas. ‘Of course, I would ask your permission for your daughter’s hand.’

‘You’ve got it…
son
!’ He laughed and patted him on the back.

Frank gave Mark a suspicious glance and headed into the kitchen. Amy was left gaping at Mark as Thomas cleared the plates.

‘That wasn’t very divine of you!’ Amy whispered, her eyebrows raised in fake shock.

‘I couldn’t help it! She needed that for the growth of her soul!’ Amy giggled. ‘Don’t tell Adaizi!’ he added, giving her a nudge.

Amy couldn’t believe what a day she’d had with him. He would never be the Mark she once thought he was but she felt utterly comfortable around him again. He was still her Mark in one way or another, and she was thankful—her mixed feelings and angst toward him had left her emotionally drained.

Once the table had been cleared, Amy pulled the concertina doors open to enter the living room, and as she did, all her good feelings fell away. Amy stood open-mouthed to see a white, fibre optic tree in the bay window.

‘Do you know,’ Joan said, misinterpreting Amy’s astonishment, ‘no one else has even noticed!’ Everyone looked over. ‘It’s the latest trend, and I think it’s wonderful,’ she added overenthusiastically. Tom looked from the tree and back to Amy, realising she now believed his nightmare.

‘Oh, it’s very nice, Joan,’ Alicia said.

‘Yes, Mum,
very
nice,’ Frank mocked. Alicia sniggered but not so Joan could see. Amy, still in shock, turned to Joan, held her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes.

‘Were you upset the other night, Mum?’ she whispered. Joan stepped back, struck by her words.

‘I’ve got to get the presents!’ she announced, avoiding Amy’s eyes. Amy stared at her mum as she watched her fuss dramatically with piles of presents like she’d lost all her organisation skills. She then stared at her dad, who was usually the life and soul of a celebration, realising there was something off about him too. Amy participated in the gift exchanges, but was observing the sideways glances her parents were giving each other.

As Tom hugged his granddad for his Christmas money, he stopped and looked curiously at his head.

‘What?’ Thomas asked, patting the top of his head to see if his hair was neat.

‘What’s in your head, Granddad?’ Tom asked.

‘A brain hopefully, same as you, lad,’ he joked, nudging him playfully. Joan, who sat in the chair next to them, sat up looking alarmed.

‘I know about
brains,
Granddad. I’m talking about the dark patch inside your head. Right there,’ he said, touching the right side of his head. ‘It doesn’t look nice. Do you want me to make it go away?’ Tom placed his hands on Thomas’ head and Joan let out a squeal, jumped up from her seat and ran into the kitchen sobbing. Tom suddenly took his hands down and saw his granddad in a state of shock.

Amy sat up, open-mouthed and Frank turned, alarmed by Joan’s reaction; she had never lost her cool before, let alone cried. Thomas stood, gave Tom a dark look, then followed his wife into the kitchen. His dark look was just a look; his shade remained the same. Frank’s shade, on the other hand, darkened instantly.

‘What’s going on?’ Frank asked. He then turned abruptly to Tom. ‘What have you said to Grandma?’

‘I didn’t say anything to Grandma,’ Tom said honestly.

‘Why is she upset then?’ Frank asked.

‘Probably because of Granddad’s head. Maybe she can see it too,’ Tom said.

‘See what, Tom?’ Tears welled in Amy’s eyes. Mark held her hand tight.

‘Something is in his head and it’s not nice,’ Tom reported, becoming upset. ‘I was only going to try and make it go away.’

Alicia sneered at him and once again as he looked at his aunt and uncle, Tom realised he’d done something wrong. There were howls coming from the kitchen. Amy and Frank gave each other looks only siblings could; something was definitely wrong.

‘
What
did you see?!
What
?!’ Frank yelled, grabbing Tom by the arms. Frank stared at Tom, his eyes crazed, waiting for an answer.

‘It was black,’ Tom said dubiously.

‘Black?’ Frank snapped. He shook his head, stormed out of the living room and banged on the kitchen door. ‘Dad…Mum…let me in…Dad…
Dad
!’ The door opened and Frank entered. Alicia had no smirk on her face now; it was as worried looking as Amy’s. Amy stared up at Mark and, after searching his eyes to find the most sympathetic look she’d ever seen, she knew it was bad.

When he returned, Frank’s expression and the fact that he had also been crying told her it was something huge.

‘What is it?’ Amy cried. ‘Tell me!’

Frank shook his head. Joan ran straight upstairs as Thomas came back through.

‘What is it, Thomas?’ Alicia asked.

‘We have a guest!’ Thomas hissed, his eyes giving Mark a quick glance before reconnecting with Amy. If only he knew Mark could see what Tom did anyway.

‘So?’ Amy said. ‘He’s
almost
family!’ she added, still holding his hand as if this would convince her dad.

‘I don’t wish to ruin Christmas, so I’d rather not say,’ he said firmly.

‘We know something is wrong, Dad, so just tell us,’ Amy retorted. ‘Otherwise we’ll think the worst.’

‘It couldn’t be any worse,’ Frank answered, scowling at Thomas. ‘So think what you want!’

‘Now then, come on, Frank.’ Thomas made to hug him, but Frank walked back into the kitchen. Alicia and Francesca followed, leaving Amy, Mark and Tom alone with him. Amy stared at him pressingly.

‘I’ve been having headaches,’ he began, unwillingly. ‘The doctor suggested I go for an x-ray…’

‘X-ray!’ Tom shouted, who startled them. ‘That’s the sign I saw, Mum. A man in a white coat took you in a room that said x-ray, Granddad. I saw him and I told you, didn’t I, Mum? But I couldn’t remember the word…’ he said, his voice trailing off as he spoke.

She squeezed his hand and forced a smile. ‘Carry on, Dad.’

‘It’s a tumour, love,’ he said calmly. ‘There’s nothing they can do. It’s lying somewhere they can’t operate.’

‘Oh no…no…’ Amy shook her head and threw her arms around him.

‘I can make it go away,’ Tom offered, stepping forward with optimism but also tearful for the state his mother was in. ‘I can make headaches go away and bruises and burns. I even healed Mark’s bones…’

‘You can’t make it go away, son!’ Thomas snapped, not giving him a chance to explain.

‘Can you let him try?’ Amy pressed. ‘I’ve told you before he
can
heal!’

‘Now you’re talking as silly as him. It’s a tumour, Amy, not a headache!’ Amy was taken aback for a moment, for that was the first time her dad had ever acknowledged Tom could heal at all.

‘But I…’ Tom began.

‘No…’ Thomas began almost angrily, ‘…you can’t!’

‘Just humour us, you stubborn fool!’ Amy screamed in his face as Joan walked back into the room.

‘If the doctors can’t do anything, then how can Tom?’ Joan stood, shaking her head.

‘They say they can’t do anything?’ Amy asked. ‘Oh please, Dad, let Tom try…what have we got to lose?’

Thomas looked to Joan. ‘Just let him try, Thomas,’ Joan reasoned. Thomas sat and nodded, but seemed wary. Amy’s heart began to beat rapidly as she moved out of the way. Mark held her hand again and they both stood as Tom rubbed his hands and stood in front of his granddad.

‘Close your eyes, Granddad,’ Tom instructed. Thomas closed his eyes and leant forward. As Tom parted his hands, a bubble of silvery light glowed and swirled in between.

Joan let out a little yelp but quickly covered her mouth to avoid shocking Thomas. Amy held Joan’s other hand to comfort her.

Tom slowly placed his hands above his granddad’s head and the bubble of light seeped underneath his hair and into his head. More light pulsated above the hairline and sparkled like a halo. Tears rolled down Thomas’ cheeks; Joan squeezed down hard on Amy’s hand as she tried to control her emotions. With a concentrated look, Tom continued to pour more and more light into his scalp, Amy and Joan exchanging hopeful and tearful glances.