Two of a Mind (9 page)

I'd rather have nothing than this constant babble.

A few days ago I was worried that I'd never hook-up with my PT – this morning it felt like I had the whole world chattering in my head. This wasn't the connection that I'd expected from the lessons we'd had with Ms Thorogood.

I sent a message to Seth telling him I was still feeling washed out so needed to stay home – alone. I also managed to avoid further discussions with the 'rents. Dad was called into a big meeting in London and Mum seemed happy to leave me undisturbed in my room all day. I needed the space as I hadn't slept at all for the remainder of that night. I was barely coherent and just lay in bed, restlessly tossing and turning, trying to relax. My head felt as though hundreds of tiny miners were trying to excavate the inside of my skull. I could hardly see through my swollen eyelids, having cried into my pillow for most of the night. It occurred to me that I'd done more crying over this last week than through the entire past year. The peace I'd briefly found during the first hypnotherapy session and afterwards in Seth's arms, was a quickly fading memory. I needed to find it again if I was going to keep my sanity.

Mum would normally have been in the room trying to get me to buck up my ideas and get some chores done to show how sorry I was, but she kept her distance throughout the day then surprised me with a significant change in her behaviour. She brought some supper on a tray and put it on my bedside table – I was never allowed food in my room!

“Here you are, love,” she said. “Try to eat. You need something to keep up your strength.”

I turned to look at her. She reached forward and stroked the hair away from my damp face. Her expression of concern was so unexpected I couldn't stop the tears from welling up again. When would I run dry? She gathered me in her arms and I'm sure I could feel her sobbing too.

“There, there. We'll sort this out. Don't worry, Dizzy.” Mum hadn't used her own, private, pet name for me since I'd started at the Academy. I took a little comfort from the sense that my mum was feeling affectionate towards me for once.

I was exhausted but afraid to sleep. Mum looked intently at me and knew that I was struggling.

“I appreciate that you didn't want to take these when you came home from the clinic,” she said, producing a couple of sleeping pills, “but one night's dose won't do you any harm. You need the rest.”

Maybe she was right. I swallowed the pills in the hope that they would knock me out so completely that I wouldn't hear the clamouring in my head nor have any more frightening dreams – although I still wasn't convinced that it had been simply a nightmare. I just wanted oblivion for a few hours.

Mum waited with me until I'd eaten enough supper to satisfy her that I wasn't going to fade away through lack of food. Then she picked up the tray, straightened the duvet where she'd been sitting, lightly kissed my forehead and went to the bedroom door.

“We'll talk in the morning. Let's see if Mr Grey can explain things for us tomorrow, shall we?”

“Yes. Thanks, Mum.” I held back the sobs that threatened to overwhelm me. This rollercoaster of emotions was exhausting. I had to get myself back under control. Maybe Alvin did have some answers. The drugs began to kick in and I finally managed to slip into a dreamless sleep.

If only it had lasted. I woke in the early hours of the morning, sure that someone had been calling to me. Although I was still slightly groggy, I was convinced I hadn't dreamed the voice. The noise in my head was at a tolerable level, maybe I was getting accustomed to it, but it felt like there was an echo of something above the normal buzz. I was reluctant to chase it while the chatter was manageable. I didn't want to turn up the volume, so I lay still and consciously tried to relax using the breathing technique from my hypno session, thinking about a time when I was truly happy.

***

We'd been at the Wallis house for a barbeque the Saturday of Seth's eleventh birthday. Mum and Elizabeth were chatting and laughing as they prepared salads and desserts, while Dad and Samuel continued the centuries-old tradition of the men burning sausages on the grill. I don't know how they managed it on the thermasensor-spit, but they did! Summer had started early that year and it was a warm afternoon filled with buzzing insects pollinating the flowers, and twittering birds as they fed their fledglings. Seth and I sat on the bench that surrounded the big oak tree at the bottom of the garden. I nervously gave him my present and a quick peck on the cheek.

“Happy birthday, Seth. Hope you like it.”

He carefully unwrapped the gift, smoothing the paper before opening the box I'd retrieved from our recycling. I was pleased with myself for finding one just the right size for the antique binoculars that I'd bought at a house clearance sale. They were the sort that had a focussing wheel and lenses – not the modern satellite enhanced digital-sights.

“Jeez, thanks, Dez. They're genuine Leica Ultravids – look there's an old receipt in the bottom of the case: £1,210 – pre-credits! Hang-on, I can just make out the date, 15
^th
April 2009. They were state-of-the-art back then.”

I'd never seen Seth so excited. I knew he was keen on old-fashioned stuff, and binoculars, telescopes and the like were particular favourites. But I hadn't realised how much these would mean to him. He hugged me tightly and gave me a huge, sloppy kiss – on the mouth! – then pulled away embarrassed at his outburst, though still grinning from ear-to-ear. I felt like
I'd
just received the best birthday present of
my
life, instead of being the giver. It wasn't the kiss – still too young to really appreciate that – it was the sheer joy in Seth's face. His boisterous mood was infectious and soon, at his insistence, everyone was taking turns to look at birds, trees, even the neighbour's washing, through his new prized possession.

That blissful afternoon and evening were a cherished memory. Elizabeth was able to ignore her ‘moody-blues', as Seth labelled them, and she chased around the garden with us as though she hadn't a care in the world. Mum was slightly less exuberant but happily joined in with the more sedate activities. When they got tired of the party games, Samuel and Dad sat on the tree-bench and enjoyed a glass or two of vintage Chivas Scotch Whisky. Finally, Seth and I stretched out on the grass and watched the day fade to night as the sun set in a peach-coloured sky. The powerful binoculars seemed to bring the glittering stars within reach and we giggled as we tried to grab them. In our little world all was well and we were comfortable and happy in each other's company.

***

Try as I might I couldn't stop the darkness welling up and obliterating the happy scene. What had happened to make Elizabeth so sad – so desperately miserable that she felt she had to leave her family and friends? She always called Samuel and Seth her ‘darling boys' and it didn't sound naff when she said it – it sounded just right. How could she turn away from that much love? The thought reminded me of something I'd seen in her diary and I reached for my bag hanging from my bed-frame. To save time, I opened the
Handi's
index page and entered ‘darling boys' in the search box. There it was, an entry in the results for Tuesday 26
^th
October 2106, the day Elizabeth disappeared:

For my darling boys;
‘Golden slumbers kiss your eyes,

Smiles awake you when you rise.'

As I read the quotation, I tapped my finger against the screen, a habit of mine when concentrating. The connection brought the cursor back into action and I began to doodle, dragging my finger randomly around the page whilst trying to recall the last few times I'd seen Elizabeth. Had she seemed depressed, preoccupied, distant? No, I didn't remember noticing any of those things or maybe she hid her feelings too well. I wasn't really focussing on the
Handi
screen when, by chance, I noticed the cursor temporarily changed shape in one particular area. I carefully traced over that patch and, so briefly that I nearly missed it, the cursor became a teardrop shape. My gut reaction made me click the enter button on the side of the
Handi
and a new handwritten page came into focus:

My darling boys,

If you're reading this then I'm no longer with you and I hope that you can forgive me. I'd give anything for this not to be the case. It's so much harder when I can't even explain why I left this evening. Please believe that if I could have ended the nightmare any other way, I would have done so.

Writing this hurts – physically, as well as emotionally. I'm struggling against barriers that nobody fully understands yet. I know my vagueness is frustrating, but the answers are here if you can find them. This isn't a cruel riddle to hurt you. Please believe me. It's the only way I can get the message to you.

Read my journal. Remember the REAL me. I need you to do this, please. I need you to see why it had to be this way. MOST IMPORTANTLY – REMEMBER, I LOVE YOU WITH ALL MY HEART AND I HATE LEAVING YOU LIKE THIS.

Sam, my love, be brave for our son. Be strong knowing that I've always loved you and that your love has comforted me through my darkest hours. Although I'm envious that I won't be with you, I want you to find love again when this is over. Share your generous heart with someone new. You'll know when you find her and I give you my blessing.

Seth, how can a mother leave such a wonderful son? It's breaking my heart. But I'll be with you in spirit throughout your life. I'll watch you grow into the caring, supportive and warm man that I can already see in you. I'll laugh with you when you're happy – yes, you will be happy again. Dez will help you, she's a wonderful girl and a good friend. I'll cry with you and share your pain and hope that if you feel I'm with you it'll heal quicker. I'll support all your hopes and dreams so don't you dare lose sight of them! I'm already so very proud of you, my dear, sweet boy.

I must go now. I so want to turn back and stay with you but I can't allow the horror to infect our family any longer.

Take care of each other, my darling boys and forgive me, please forgive me. I wish I could have found another way.

E xxx

Yes, I was crying again. Who wouldn't at such an emotional farewell? I didn't think Seth had seen this. He would've pointed it out to me when he first told me of his suspicions that Elizabeth had killed herself. It was obvious that she didn't expect to come home that evening.

Do I have the nerve to show it to him?

“
Time to go
,” the Comms unit ordered. Celeste touched her earpiece to activate the response mode, “Received and understood.”

She stepped into the cobbled square and mingled with the crowds, constantly glancing around the area to check the position of her team and ensuring they weren't drawing any unwanted attention.

Despite the vast improvement in international relations since telepathic-twinning evolved, there were still a few hot-heads around who thought they could stir the discontented into violent action against the establishment. Occasionally, she was dragged from her cosy office in the City to lead a field operation. Her talents for de-coding, problem solving, and reading people had taken her to a higher grade than simply a desk job and being married to one of the most experienced field officers had its advantages. Often they could be placed in ‘couple' scenarios without the need for pretence – it also added an exciting twist to their real marriage!

Celeste smiled and put her hand to her still-flat stomach. When this project was completed, she would have to tell Jonathan, and her bosses, that field work would soon be off the agenda. She couldn't risk another miscarriage. Anyway, a noticeably pregnant woman always attracted too much attention.

Raised voices brought her out of her reverie.
Damn!
She'd let her mind wander and now had lost sight of two of her team. She couldn't risk using the comms link to check their whereabouts. Her instincts were pointing her towards the disturbance but she knew that if she or any other team-members approached the area they would all be at risk. She opened a black parasol and raised it over her head, ostensibly providing shade from the afternoon sun. Her team would recognise the signal to pull back and reassemble at the safe house. She wandered around the square for another five minutes to ensure her action had been noticed by those who understood it.

***

“Does anyone remember seeing Daniel or Nikita leave the square?” Celeste looked at each of the group in turn. Everybody's face wore the same concerned expression. Two team members missing for over three hours without any comms response could only mean they'd been compromised. All their colleagues could hope for now was that they had simply gone to ground until they could find a safe way out. In the meantime, the project would be suspended until Daniel and Nikita's fate was confirmed.

“Celeste, it wasn't your fault. How many more times are we going to go through it all?” Jonathan was at the limit of his patience. He'd been her staunch supporter during the investigation which had found no blame attached to any individual for the loss of the two agents during the aborted operation. Daniel and Nikita had been caught up in a brief skirmish that had nothing to do with the team's target. Local authorities were dealing with the issue and the department had to withdraw entirely for fear of being exposed during the clear up.

The official findings meant nothing to Celeste. She would never forgive her momentary lapse in concentration as she'd indulged in her maternal musings. This pregnancy had cost the lives of two of her people – people she was supposed to be protecting.