Chapter 029: A Holiday In France
"We
are arrant knaves all. Believe none of us."
Hamlet,
III, 1 - William Shakespeare
Whistling a tune I was walking back to my chambers after dinner when I
suddenly heard the agitated sound of stiletto-heels behind me.
"Ah dear, I was just looking for you. There is still so much to do.
Do you have a moment?" Who else but Aunt Flora? Before I knew it she had
grabbed hold of my arm, guiding me in the direction of her chambers.
"It's like this," she began, then
hesitated. "Oh, but of course you wouldn't understand, being a man and all.
You see, I've found this beautiful ensemble which I intend to wear at the ball,
but I need some jewelry to go with it. Now, I have some pieces that would fit
perfectly, but I seem to have left them on Shadow Earth, although I do not know
precisely where. Let's see, when was the last time I wore them? I'm sure it
wasn't in New York. I know! It was at that party with Marie Antoinette. In
Lyons. I have a villa there, although I haven't actually been there in ages. Ah,
here we are."
Flora guided me into her suite and had her maid bring us some tea. Next
she started rummaging in one of her closets.
"Now, where is it? I know it's got to be here
somewhere. Aha!" She emerged from the closet with a large portfolio which,
when she opened it, contained several rather good landscape paintings and some
portraits. She picked one out which showed a beautiful, 18th century style,
French villa.
"That's what it is supposed to look like. Do
you think you will be able to find it? I think I've left them in the safe. It
should be well ward with Pattern. At least, I think I did ward it, didn't I?
It's all so long ago. Anyway, you're bound to find it, there's only one safe.
The jewelry consists of various pieces all skillfully made of gold and rubies.
You'd better bring everything you find in the safe, just to be sure."
Up till now Flora had not really given me any chance to get a word in,
which in a way amused me. I was aware, however, that I did owe her a favour from
when she had taken care of that business with Suzanne's aunt Lilly. I was also
aware that Aunt Flora had not forgotten about that. Ah well, with still
something like six weeks until the ball and nothing better to do, I guess I
could spare the time to fetch Flora's jewels. I could even take my time and make
a little holiday of it.
"Does this villa have a name?" I asked, looking up from the
painting.
"No," Flora replied, "I never bother
with names. It's near some village, what's it called, ah yes: Garasse." I
nodded. That should be enough to go on. Chances were somebody else was living
there now, but I would cross that bridge when I came to it.
Flora's maid returned with the tea and after she had put the paintings
back in the portfolio we had tea and conversation. Of course Flora gathered
every little bit of information from me that I was slightly willing to part
with. Can't be helped, though; it's just not worth the trouble to try and stop
her. The de-briefing lasted for about an hour and a half after which I was
dismissed. I found that I didn't really have a reason to wait till the next
morning before setting out, and because I was looking a bit forward to the trip
I decided to start my journey right away. First, though, I went round Diana's
chambers to inform her of my sudden travel plans. One should at least let
somebody know where one's off to, I guess.
Diana tacitly listened to my explanation of why I was leaving. She looked
somewhat tired, but also a bit depressed and nervous. Sigh. Still the same old
problem.
"About the ball," she said, "I don't
know about protocol, but how am I supposed to go there: by myself, or is it okay
for my father to accompany me? That is, if you're not going with someone
else..."
I noticed that I still didn't feel used to her calling me father. It
takes a long time for feelings to change, I guess. Still, her question was a
valid one. It wouldn't do for either of us to go alone, I knew that. We could go
together, but then it would probably be interpreted as a father taking his
daughter to her first major social event, sort of presenting her to the outside
world. There was another thing that I should consider, though: the matter of
Monias's future queen. I had already picked up that Monias was looking for a
possible bride and I realized that me accompanying Diana to the ball could be
construed as me presenting him with one. Okay, if those were the consequences,
then so be it. There was no chance of Diana going to be married off without her
own consent, I would see to that.
"It would be an honour to me if you would accompany me to the
ball," I told her. She smiled a wan smile, but when she saw my look of
concern she quickly reassured me that she would be alright. I had my doubts
about that, but it seemed that there was not much that I could do about it.
Before saying goodbye, though, I urged her to go and visit my father,
remembering the way he had helped me come to terms with my feelings about
Coral's death. I just hoped he could help Diana a little too.
Half an hour later I was making my way down to the docks. I knew that I
could use the Pattern to transport me to Shadow Earth in a manner of minutes,
but since this was also supposed to be a bit of a holiday I decided I might as
well make the trip enjoyable too. With only a fresh set of travel clothes and a
few essential items I hit the road. The quay master directed me to where a few
small pleasure crafts of the Royal Family were harboured. I picked one that I
could easily handle on my own and set out for open sea. When I got enough of a
distance between me and Amber, I started shifting, taking it slowly. If I timed
it just right I could keep a beautiful night sky during my whole journey,
arriving in Marseille at the break of dawn. There I could catch a train or rent
me a car.
The slow nature of my Shadow shifting left me enough room for my thoughts
to stray to other matters. Diana. What was I going to do about her? What could I
do? I knew I was her father, but I just still didn't feel like it. The love was
still very strong, with the ever damning passion lying in wait for a moment of
weakness which was bound to come. That was the main reason why I couldn't spend
too much time with her. It had to be resolved, though, and soon for her sake,
for she seemed to be suffering worse than I was. I really hoped that Dad could
help her pull through.
From Diana to Deirdre was a relatively easy step. I had visited her
briefly in the Infirmary after I had been to see Adrian. She seemed to be close
to regaining consciousness, even moving a little now and then. I still didn't
know what I was to expect from her, but for once I didn't feel too apprehensive
at the thought of seeing her awake again. Who knows, she might even prove a help
to Diana and me. I guess there wasn't anyone else with a better grasp of what
was going on and the things Diana and I were feeling, and from that short
outburst of hers after the first ritual had misfired I'd say that she at least
cared for her granddaughter.
Women... My whole life seems to revolve around women. All my problems
seem to stem from my dealings with women. And now Aunt Flora's got me working as
a messenger boy! Maybe I should go and be a monk or something. Naah, that would
never work, I knew that. I'd get bored as hell in no time at all. I tweaked the
stars overhead a little to bring them closer to the right configurations. Earth.
I was going back to Earth. Suzanne. I should really go and talk to her, I knew
that. I had avoided it up till now, shirking the uneasy task of having to tell
her that the son I had gone searching for was in fact the girl she had become so
jealous of when I had finally found her again in Shadow. No, I wouldn't go to
her as yet, but I would do it sometime soon. She deserved as much.
When I finally pulled into Marseille with a warm morning-sun shining
through the rigging, I had again assumed the guise of Dorian Grey, part- time
artist and full-time rich eccentric. I took some pains to shift all my official
papers and stuff into place, hoping that this time they would hold up under
close scrutiny. An American Express card was all I needed to buy me a mooring
place for my boat and rent me a comfortable sportscar to take me to Lyons. Again
I took my time, enjoying the landscape by choosing rather scenic routes and
stopping by for meals or something to drink at regular intervals.
I found Garasse without any trouble; it lay in what I would call the
general vicinity of Lyons, but far enough from that city to retain a nice
country mood. There was only one hotel in the village, fortunately with enough
vacancies to give shelter to non-booking travellers such as myself. The food was
quite good, as were the local wines that I savoured sitting in front of the
hotel later that night. They weren't as good as Bayle's of course, but still
well worth the trouble of taking a few bottles home with me. Would be a nice
surprise for Adrian when we had our next conversation.
As I sat there taking the balmy night air, the wines and the rather good
view, I couldn't help but notice some of the local village beauties occasionally
glancing in my direction and talking amongst themselves in somewhat agitated
tones. They really mustn't be used to tourists like me around here. The next
time they looked in my direction I smiled and raised my glass to them. Some of
them blushed and looked away, but one met my gaze and held it for some time.
Hmm, fascinating, captain. But no, I chided myself, I shouldn't. As it was I had
enough trouble with women already.
The next morning I went on my quest for Flora's lost jewels. A visit to
the local tourist information office told me that there were indeed a lot of old
country villas near the village where in days long past the aristocracy would
spent many a summer. Some of them were still standing, most being in the hands
of private citizens, but a few of them were currently for sale. Well, I
reasoned, if Flora's villa was among these, it would mean I could avoid the
awkward solution of breaking in and searching the place by simply buying it.
After all, money is never really a problem.
The estate-agent turned out to be the wife of the man running the tourist
information. Small villages... I told her I might be interested in acquiring a
villa in these parts, but that it would have to be one with a bit of a history.
Madame Bouchard was very eager to show me around and we spent the whole of the
morning and the afternoon looking at old villas. Most of them were far from
perfect and if I really had wanted to buy one it would have needed a rather big
makeover. Madame was pleasant enough company, and in the end I began to feel a
bit guilty about not buying anything from her. Tough luck, though: the house I
was looking for hadn't been among the ones she had shown me.
On the way back in my car Madame kept angling to see which one of the
villas we had visited had my preference, and I in turn kept politely evading her
questions, when suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw a villa flash by, and
damn it if it wasn't the one I was after. For a moment I considered turning
back, but I figured I had already done enough for one day, and besides I didn't
want to hurt Madame's feelings. I took careful note of my surroundings, though,
to make sure that I would be able to find the same spot again.
Another quiet evening, another perfect meal and another fine bottle of
wine on the table. Yes, this was my kind of holiday. The good weather was still
holding up, so I had opted for having my dinner outside on the patio in front of
the hotel. I was sitting there quietly, enjoying the last bits of my dessert,
when I noticed somebody standing in the nearby shadows. I looked up to see that
it was the same girl from the night before. She was looking at me with an intent
and curious gaze. I smiled and after a moment so did she. I mused a bit on her
presence there, then I thought, what the heck, as long as I didn't get too
involved. I smiled again at her and beckoned her to join me at my table, and
after a moment's consideration she did. I had the smiling patron bring us a
second glass and a fresh bottle, and then we started talking.
Her name was Sophie Bouchard and she was the real estate-agent's
daughter. The hotel belonged to her uncle, but then the village was mostly
family anyway. She said they didn't get too many tourists around here so early
in the season, and certainly never anyone like me. I laughed and told her that
people like me weren't too common. I explained to her that I was on holiday,
secure in the knowledge of my family's fortune. When I told her I was an artist
she became quite interested. She told me that she was still busy finishing her
last years at school, but after that she was planning on going to Paris to
become a painter. One of her other uncles had already taught her much of the
basics and according to him she had real talent. Intrigued I aked her to show me
something of her work, but to my surprise she offered to do a new piece, here on
the spot, with myself as the subject. I laughed, but I saw that she was really
serious, for she produced a set of drawing materials and a fresh sheet of paper
from the shoulderbag she was carrying.
"Okay," I said, still laughing, "but I think you need a
bit more light to really make it work." Her expression was still serious as
she said that the light would be good enough in my room. That stopped me
laughing. I regarded her in silence for a while, then I shrugged and led her
upstairs.
"Strip off," she said as the door closed
behind us.
"What?" I burst out.
"Strip off," she said again. "I only
do nude studies." There was a hint of a smile around her lips, but it was
no more than that. Okay, if that was what she wanted, then she was going to get
it too. Half a minute later I was lying naked on the bed, while she was busy
sketching on a chair in the corner. As she worked on I had enough time to study
her in more detail. She was very slim, like most French girls tend to be, with
short curly brown hair, deep brown eyes and a lovely tan. Her tight T-shirt and
short summer skirt didn't leave much to the imagination, and I soon found myself
struggling to focus my thoughts on other matters and hoping for her to finish
soon, lest her drawing change from art into overt pornography by a mere physical
reaction. She took her time, though.
Finally, she took one final look at her work, nodded once and handed it
over to me to study and criticize. The drawing was very good and I told her she
did indeed had talent. There was also an eerie quality to her work, though. Did
I really look that tense? Was that hint of sorrow really present in my eyes?
Sophie caught me frowning and she said that she had only drawn what she had seen
in me. I hastened to assure her that her work pleased me very much, which
brought the smile back to her face.
"Well," she asked, "are you going to show me a bit of your
work in return?" I looked at her and her smile deepened. "I'm sure you
can do marvelous things with nude models," she said.
"I ought to warn you, then, that it will be a
one-time study only," I said. She considered this and nodded slightly. Next
thing she was in my arms and we were kissing. Her clothes came away quite easily
and I found that I hadn't been the only one who had been fighting to get his
mind onto something else. There, naked on my bed, I re-drew every curve of her
body, until she cried out for pleasure. Afterwards we fell asleep in each
other's arms, happy, fulfilled and tired. This sure was one terrific holiday.
The next morning I woke to find her already gone. I felt a bit of
disappointment at that, but only a bit, for I soon reminded myself of my
resolutions not to get too much involved. She had left me the drawing, though,
and had written a short dedication under it: to my artist; true art touches the
heart. I smiled and rolled it up so as not to damage it on my return journey to
Amber. I wasn't as yet sure what I was going to do with it, but I didn't want to
leave it behind.
After breakfast I took my car for a spin, heading for the place where I
thought I had seen Aunt Flora's villa the day before. About a quarter of an hour
later I pulled up beside a big, heavy, iron gate. Yes, this indeed was the house
I was looking for. There was quite a long drive from the gate to the house,
though, and I couldn't detect any signs of life in or around it. I concentrated
and tried to make out if there were any traces of Pattern in the villa. There
were, so this had to be it. There was also something else, though: dogs, lots of
them. Whoever lived in this villa now was more than a little concerned about
burglars it seemed.
Okay, so burglary was out. How to get inside, though? I knew that I could
easily hop into the villa by using the Pattern, but for once I wanted to see if
there wasn't nother way to do it. I didn't want to get to be too reliant on my
special abilities and a bit of ingenuity training is never wasted. I could of
course just ring the bell, but what would I do to convince the residents to
invite me inside. Suddenly it hit: I would masquerade as a journalist doing a
piece on old villas. Surely that would flatter the egos of the people living her
enough to get me inside. I would, however, need a camera and some official
papers to be really convincing, so I went off again, buying a camera in the
nearest town and shifting some of my papers into press passes, all the reciting
some of the things I was going to say to them.
Finally, after something over an hour, I returned at the gate and rang
the bell. Nobody answered, though, so after a while I rang again. Again nothing.
Funny, none of the dogs seemed to be reacting to it too. Then I saw something
moving at one of the front windows on the second floor. So there was someone at
home after all. Why didn't they open the door, though? I rang the bell a third
time and saw that the figure at the window was waving at me. I waved back and
gestured towards the locked iron gate. The figure just kept on waving, then it
disappeared. A few moments later the front door opened and a figure emerged,
probably the same one as I had seen at the window. Before he or she could step
outside, though, the figure became totally surrounded by a great horde of
vicious dogs. So the dogs were supposed to keep people inside? There was
something rotten in the village of Garasse. The figure now called out to me, and
I could tell from the voice that it was a woman. Her words were totally lost on
me, though, except for a loud cry of "Help!".
Hmm, so much for sublety. There were some strange things going on here,
and I was going to find out what they were. A moment of concentration and one
Pattern hop saw me standing at the same window where I had first noticed that
woman. Downstairs I heard her cry: "Don't go! Please, get me out of
here!" To my surprise she appeared to be talking English, with a slightly
posh accent even. I realized she must have seen me disappear.
First, though, I wanted to find out whether there was anyone else in the
house. I did a mental sweep of the entire building, but I couldn't detect anyone
but the woman downstairs, who turned out to be a girl and a punk girl at that.
There was something odd about her I noticed, although I couldn't precisely say
what it was. I found a staircase leading downstairs and I went up to her. She
heard me coming and before I had got to her she was already calling out to me.
"What? How did you get inside? Well, I don't
want to know, just get me out."
"Calm down, calm down," I said,
"okay, I'll take you with me if that's what you want. I've got some
business to take care off first, though."
Now that I had got close enough to her I realized what was so odd about
her: she had Amber blood! I got the same feeling from her as I had from Diana
when I had first become aware of being able to detect such things: she was
Family, but she hadn't walked the Pattern yet. Suddenly the whole matter of Aunt
Flora sending me on this rather insignificant errant took a completely different
turn. There was no way that this girl being here was just a coincidence, and I
was eager to hear Flora's explanation, or this girl's for that matter. Oh boy, I
had a feeling that I would have a lot of explaining to do to her as well. Just
start with the easy part.
"My name is Dorian," I told her.
"I'm Elayne," she replied.
"Okay, Elayne, just stay close while I finish
my business here."
"And then you're going to disappear just like
that other loonie, are you?"
"What?" I asked. "What loonie?"
"Oh, some kind of idiot who thought we were
still in the middle ages. He kept on lugging this big sword around with him and
he had a panther for a pet, can you imagine. He just disappeared in a swirl of
rainbows." Hmm, that sounded like someone I knew. I took out my Trumps and
searched for Alexander's.
"Yeah," she said, "that's the guy.
Hey, that's cool stuff. Are they antiques?"
"Sort of," I replied. "He just
disappeared you said?"
"Yeah, I told you already. Look, are we very
far from Sellafield?"
"Er, yeah, I'd say pretty far."
"Oh god," she sighed. Dear, oh dear, what
had happened to this girl? And how did Alexander fit into this picture?
"Look," I said, "we'll talk later. Now I've first got to
find something." I turned away from her and started concentrating again on
finding traces of Pattern. The trail was soon found and it led to the cellar, to
a very old and dusty wall-safe. Little, glittering lines of Pattern had been
used to lock it, but they were easily dispelled. Inside I found a small box
containing the several pieces of jewelry Aunt Flora had sent me for plus a small
packet of letters held together by a pink ribbon. Hmm, I wondered whether or not
I should read them. Perhaps later. First Elayne, though. She was standing close
beside me, apparently affraid that I would vanish just like my cousin had.
"You might experience some strange things in a minute," I told
her, "but don't worry. They're just my way of getting you out of
here." She looked a bit apprehensive, but she also seemed eager to take any
possible way of getting out of here. I wondered how long she had been here
already. I concentrated once more and Patterned us both back outside the gate,
next to my car.
"Where is this?" she asked suspiciously. I pointed towards the
house. "That's not what I mean," she said. "Where is this in
England?"
"Well, you see, we're not in England, we're in
France. Near Lyons, actually."
"But that's not possible...," she began.
"Calm down," I urged her, "I'm also
not entirely sure of what has happened."
"You," she said, "you have found some way to teleport
things. What has that got to do with me? I haven't seen anything! The only thing
I've done is cut through the fence near Sellafield, that's all! I don't know
anything and I don't want to have anything to do with it!" Oh dear, she
seemed to think that I was some kind of secret agent or something. Dorian Bond,
007. This only made it harder to explain everything to her. Why was I always the
one who had to do these kind of things?