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From Another Place Ch. 01

By: soroborn



Author's note: This story is a counterpart to my previous piece, "From Heaven..." I decided to see what would happen if I started with the same situation, but -- as you'll see -- a lead female character who is very different from Ariel. I'm not sure whether the idea will work, but I'm going to persist with it for a while -- the possibilities are interesting.

Thanks to hodunk, cannd and others for the feedback and appreciative comments on "From Heaven..."; I hope you enjoy this story, though I have a feeling it may be darker and not such easy reading (or writing!).

(I should also mention that of course this piece, even more than the last one, owes a lot to the Screwtape Letters) 

********

As I came in to land, I folded my wings, settling lightly on the balls of my feet. The path was rough, small stones and twigs pressing through my thin soles.

I looked around. It was getting dark, and I could feel that the breeze was cooling. I gave the little shrug that I'd been taught, and my wings vanished, leaving me with only a slight tingling between my shoulder blades.

I started to walk toward the lights in the distance, remembering the instructions I'd been given: Find him, do whatever it takes to turn him.

As I reached the first buildings, I started to pass people, in couples and groups, and I smiled inwardly as I picked up the edges of their thoughts -- the men stealing glances at the scantily-clad girls, the young women longing for love and wondering what they would have to yield to get it, or at least some facsimile of it.

I felt eyes on me, and turned, seeing a group of young men looking at me. "All by yourself, darling?" one of them called, his companions grinning. I returned his glance, tempted, but I reminded myself of my mission.

I walked on, sensing that I was close to my goal. I reached an intersection, and deliberately stepped out as though in front of the oncoming traffic. I felt a hand on my shoulder restraining me. "Careful -- you just missed the green."

I turned, and felt a surge of satisfaction, of anticipation. It was him.

"Thanks, Tim." I gave him my most appealing smile.

His face took on an expression of puzzlement. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

I grinned. "You could say that -- it was quite a while ago." He smiled. "Can't be that long ago -- you can only be around my daughter's age, right?"

I returned his smile, but didn't speak.

He shook his head. "Sorry, the memory's not as good as it was, remind me of your name?"

"Just call me Amy," I said. 

"Well, pleased to meet you again, Amy. I'm sure when you tell me how we met, everything will start to come back to me."

He paused. "Are you in town for long?"

"I don't know yet," I said truthfully. "Depends how things go."

"Where are you staying?"

"I haven't found anywhere yet, I've only just arrived."

He smiled. "Then that's easily solved. You're welcome to stay at my place for as long as you need -- now Sally's at college, there's plenty of room."

"Thanks, Tim," I said, "that'd be great."

"I was just walking back to the car," he said. "Is there anything else you need to do in town just now?"

I shook my head. "Then let's get home," he said, "and I'll find us something to eat. Do you have any luggage anywhere?"

"No, travelling light," I smiled.

We walked together to the side street where his car was parked, and he held the door for me. I settled in the leather seat, and he slid behind the wheel.

"Don't forget your seat belt," he said, leaning close to me as he reached across to fasten my belt. "Compulsory in this state."

I nodded, distracted by a hint of fragrance from his skin. "Nice smell," I said without thinking.

He smiled. "I'm glad you like it -- Sally usually gets me aftershave for my birthday, and this one's my favourite."

He started the car, and I glanced out of the window as we headed out of town, the seedy downtown buildings giving way to wide avenues lined with trees.

Tim turned in through wrought-iron gates, pulling up outside a large Georgian-style house.

"Impressive place," I said.

"Thanks," he replied slowly. "It feels very empty now Sally's gone. And Sarah..."

I nodded, trying to imagine how it felt, to lose someone that close to you. If I could know how he was feeling, perhaps I could use it as a lever.

He opened the front door, letting me go in first. I smiled to myself -- if he knew who -- what -- I really was, I doubted he'd show me such courtesy.

Tim indicated the stairs. "Up to the first landing, the door on the right, that's Sally's old room. It has an en-suite, take your time freshening up, then we'll have something to eat."

I followed his directions, and closed the door of the room behind me, sitting on the bed to gather my thoughts. So I was here, and he'd accepted me, though I'd have to be even more creative in explaining how he and I had first met.

I glanced at myself in the long mirror on the wall, wondering how he saw me -- dark hair and eyes, my dress in a shimmering silver fabric reaching just below my knees.

I opened the door and followed the sound of Tim humming quietly to himself. I reached the kitchen, and he turned. "How about pizza?"

I nodded. "That'd be great." I pulled a sense of something strongly-flavoured, spicy, from his mind. "I really like it hot -- jalapenos. And a few olives?"

Tim grinned. "My favourite."

He picked up the phone and ordered, then glanced at me. "Drink?"

"Please."

"What's your poison?"

I glanced up sharply, then grinned, realising it was just a figure of speech. "Do you have vodka?"

"Sure. Tonic?"

"That'd be great -- ice and lemon too, if you've got it." He busied himself making drinks, then handed me a glass, moisture beading on the cold surface. "Cheers."

I sipped, tasting the alcohol on my tongue, and for a moment I was tempted to allow it to affect me a little, to let Tim think my inhibitions were loosening. Regretfully I decided that it was too soon, that such a direct approach would risk him pulling away, offended. I'd have to be much more subtle.

I sat down, crossing my legs, and Tim sprawled on the sofa opposite me. "So, put me out of my misery, when did you and I first meet?"

"I suppose it was when Sally was about fifteen," I said. "I remember her being a bit of a scamp." But not mischievous enough, I thought to myself. My attempts to use what had happened to drive her into wholesale rebellion had never quite come off.

Tim nodded. "It was a difficult time for both of us. But she's a good girl, always has been."

I forced myself to smile. "I'm glad."

I paused. "I moved away after a year or so, and I haven't really been back since, but then this job came up."

"That's great," Tim said. "What will you be doing?"

I hesitated briefly. "I can't really talk about it."

Tim picked up my hesitation, and held up his hand. "Don't worry, I understand. The world's a lot more complicated these days, and even the good guys have secrets."

And the bad guys, I thought to myself.

There was a knock at the door, and Tim went out to answer it. He returned carrying two large flat boxes, handing one to me.

I opened the lid, and breathed in the heat, and the spicy tang of the peppers. "Mm, smells good."

We started to eat, and I saw Tim beginning to perspire a little. "This is my favourite," he said, "but it is pretty hot."

He glanced across at me. "You look as cool as a cucumber."

I shrugged. "Guess I'm used to it."

When we'd finished eating, Tim said, "Another drink?"

I shook my head, doing my best to look demure. "One's my limit."

Tim nodded. "Work tomorrow. Do you have to start early?"

"Not really. I'll fit around your routine." I smiled inwardly: Tim had no idea how close to his routine I intended to be.

"OK. Well, I'm going to have an early night, you're welcome to read or to watch TV if you're not ready for bed yet."

I stretched, and pretended to stifle a yawn. "Actually I'm pretty tired myself."

I followed Tim up the stairs, turning at the door of Sally's room. "Night, then."

"Night, Amy."

I shut the door behind me and sat down on the bed, then closed my eyes and reached out my senses to the room across the landing.

Tim was already in bed, and as he drifted off to sleep I began to watch the random impressions and fleeting dreams that chased through his mind, looking for anything that I might be able to use.

The morning light started to filter through the curtains, and I sensed Tim stirring. By the time he reached the kitchen, his hair wet from the shower, I was sitting at the kitchen table. "Morning, Tim. I made you coffee."

He smiled. "Thanks."

He took a sip. "Two sugars, just right. How did you know?"

I shrugged. "I guessed -- the sugar bowl was on the counter."

He opened a cupboard. "You OK with cereal for breakfast?"

"Sure."

Tim filled bowls for us, and poured milk onto his. "Sally always loves the crackling noise these make."

He glanced at me. "Wish I knew how you girls do it. This time in the morning, and you're already dressed, not a hair out of place."

I grinned. "Long practice..."

When Tim had finished eating, he put his bowl in the sink. "I have to get going. I left you a key on the hall table so you can come and go. Do you know what time you'll be back tonight? I'll cook something."

I thought for a moment. "That'd be great. I'll be here when you get back."

"OK. I hope your first day goes well, and your boss isn't too hard on you."

I suppressed a shiver as I thought of what my superiors might well do to me if this assignment didn't go as planned, but I gave Tim a warm smile. "Hope you have a good day too."

I watched Tim walk to his car, then get in and drive off. As the car disappeared from sight, I walked out into the hall, ignoring the key on the table. I glanced in the mirror, feeling the usual sensation of lightness as I willed myself into invisibility. 

I stepped through the closed front door, hardly noticing the faint hum as the ghostly outline of the timber passed through me.

I stood on the gravel of the drive, and gave a shrug, feeling again the familiar sensation of my wings arching behind and above me. I flexed them, rising into the air, and soon I was behind and above Tim's car, watching as he drove down the freeway, already preoccupied with the work waiting for him at the office.

I extended my senses, and noticed a truck on an intersecting road, its driver oblivious to the lights against him at the approaching junction as he spoke on his cellphone.

I thought rapidly. It was no job of mine to keep Tim from harm, but I'd not even had a chance to begin the task I'd been sent here for -- to twist him where I could, to corrupt or embitter him. To set him firmly on a path leading away from the light.

"Damned if I do and damned if I don't," I muttered. I projected my will at the lights, turning the one facing Tim red. I watched as he slowed, the speeding truck shooting across the intersection in front of him. I felt Tim's heart accelerate, then he shook his head. "Someone must be looking out for me."

He continued on his journey to work, parking outside the office building, and I followed him up to his office and took up a position in the corner.

Nothing as dramatic happened for the rest of the day, though I did surreptitiously give his mug of coffee the final push it needed to slide off the edge of the desk as he moved a stack of papers. I was rewarded by a mild curse as Tim mopped up the spilt coffee with napkins, and he was perceptibly more impatient with his secretary for the rest of the afternoon.

At the end of the day, Tim made the journey home, and as he approached the gates at the end of his drive, I pulled ahead of him, landing in the hall and quickly returning to visibility. I slipped the key into a fold of my dress, and went through to the living room, settling back into the chair I'd occupied the previous evening.

I heard Tim's key in the door, and he walked into the room, looking tired. "Hi, Amy. How did your day go?"

I smiled. "OK -- think the boss was pleased with one or two things I did. You?"

He nodded. "Though I nearly didn't get there at all -- some idiot ran a crossing as I was on the way, it was pure luck that the lights were changing to red as I got there."

I managed what I hoped was a convincing frown. "Wow, I'm glad you're OK."

Tim smiled. "Well, maybe it's more than just luck, maybe someone is looking out for me."

He looked at the sofa, then said, "I know if I sit down, I won't want to get up again to make dinner."

"I'll give you a hand," I offered.

"That'd be really helpful," he said. "Anything particular you'd like?"

"Let me take a look in the freezer. Perhaps I can surprise you."

"I'll open a bottle of wine," Tim said, "After the day I've had, I could use a drink."

We went through to the kitchen, and Tim found a bottle, pouring a generous glass for each of us. "Cheers."

I sipped, then put my glass down on the kitchen table and opened the door of the freezer.

"Great," I said. "You have all sorts of stuff -- I think I could make a pretty good Chinese."

Tim smiled. "Go right ahead."

I started to pull pans from the shelves and select spices from the rack. Soon I had several pans sizzling on the stove, and Tim said, "That smells great."

"You sit down and enjoy your wine," I said. "The great thing about Chinese is that it doesn't take long."

After a few more minutes of stirring and adding an extra pinch or two of spices, I piled food on plates and joined Tim at the table.

"Wow," he said, "this is amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?"

"I had a summer job working in a restaurant, and I picked things up from the chef as I went along." I forbore to mention what century that summer had been in, and that my main reason for being there was to encourage the chef into an opium habit that eventually ruined him.

Tim closed his eyes as he savoured a mouthful. "Great."

We finished eating, and Tim refilled our glasses. "Shall we get more comfortable?"

We went through into the living room, and I took the same seat as the previous day while Tim sank into the sofa with a sigh.

He frowned. "Work again tomorrow, but then we can enjoy the weekend."

He glanced across at me. "Unless you already have plans?"

I shook my head. "I don't want to be in your way, though."

He shook his head. "Are you kidding? Having company will be a real treat, and I can show you around a little as you're new to the area. We can get out of town, it's not far to the desert and I know some places where we can see some amazing wildlife."

"I'd love that," I said.

We talked for a while longer, then Tim suppressed a yawn. "I think that wine has made me even more ready to get some sleep," he said, "I'll leave you to it -- see you for breakfast."

Again I waited till he was upstairs, and this time went into his room, willing myself into invisibility before sitting in the chair that faced the bed. This time the thoughts that fleeted across Tim's mind as he slept were more fragmentary, darker, and he tossed and turned restlessly.

When he came down to breakfast the next morning he still looked tired. "I had all sorts of disturbing dreams," he said, frowning. "Can't quite remember what they were."

After breakfast he set off for work, and I followed his car closely through the heavy traffic. The day was uneventful, with little opportunity to try Tim's patience, and he arrived back at home looking more optimistic.

"That's over for another week," he said as he was hanging up his coat. "My turn to cook -- how do you fancy Italian?"

"Great," I said. I followed him through to the kitchen and sat down at the table.

Tim cooked spaghetti bolognese, going heavy on the garlic, and despite myself I enjoyed the rich tomato flavour of the sauce, enhanced by the parmesan Tim offered to grate over my meal.

Again we went to bed early, and I contented myself with watching him sleep. I was certain the weekend would provide enough opportunities to suit my purpose.

In the morning after breakfast Tim bustled around preparing for our trip. "How about a picnic for lunch?" he suggested. "I've got stuff in."

"Good idea," I said. He quickly packed a bag, and we got in the car. A few miles out of town, Tim turned off onto a dusty track, driving for while longer before pulling up.

"It's a bit of a walk down to the canyon," he said, "but I've brought water, and it's worth it when we get there."

After we'd walked for about an hour, Tim was starting to perspire, and he wiped his face with a handkerchief, taking a long drink from the water bottle.

He looked across at me. "It doesn't look like the heat's getting to you at all," he said, "you obviously tolerate it better than I do. But you still need to drink."

He wiped the top of the bottle with the back of his hand, and passed it to me. I drank, then handed it back.

We reached the bottom of the canyon, and Tim stopped. "Cooler here."

He pointed up at the rock face. "There's what we came to see."

I shaded my eyes and looked. "There's a ledge."

He nodded. "Wait." He leaned against a boulder, and I leaned next to him, feeling his arm just touching mine.

After a few minutes, I saw a dark shape in the air above the canyon, and a bird came to a landing on the ledge. It was carrying something in its talons, still moving, and I sensed a reaction further back in the ledge. I carefully extended my senses to look closer.

"There are chicks," I said.

Tim smiled. "Yes, there are four -- and the mother seems to be a good hunter, they're doing well."

I saw the image in his mind of the female bird swooping on an unsuspecting small creature, and I felt a thrill pass through me at the reminder that in this world, every creature was either predator or prey. 

From Another Place Ch. 02



We watched the chicks being fed for a few minutes, then Tim said, "Let's walk a little further up the canyon. We might see the other bird of the pair hunting."

We set off, Tim pointing out various features and interesting plants as we walked.

"Up ahead a little way there's a place where crows roost," pointed Tim. 

I looked, seeing the black shapes among the dusty leaves. I smiled to myself, remembering all the associations of these birds with horror, death, the battlefield.

Suddenly, all at once the birds took flight, beating their wings strongly and vanishing towards the west. Tim frowned. "That's unusual. I didn't hear a shot, and we're too far away for us to have disturbed them."

As he spoke, I felt a tremor beneath my feet, then the shaking became stronger. I saw momentary panic in Tim's face, then he said, "Quick – we need to shelter in the lea of that boulder."

Before we could move, there was a cracking, splitting sound and a section of the canyon face directly above us started to detach. Without hesitating, Tim grabbed my hand and pulled me down, wrapping his arms around me, his hands shielding my head. I felt the impact of rock crashing to the ground a hair's-breadth from us, then a rain of smaller stones and dust.

When the rockfall had ceased, Tim released me, and stepped back, concern in his eyes. "Are you OK?"

I struggled to find words. "You... you protected me. You could have been killed!"

Tim gave a dismissive shake of his head, holding his hand out to help me up. "We'd better get back to the house." We picked our way out of the canyon, and back to the car.

"Are you OK to drive?" I asked. "I've not learned yet."

He nodded. "I'll be fine."

When we got back to the house, Tim said, "I need to change – I'm still covered in dust. Are you sure you're OK? I don't want you going into shock."

I nodded. "I'm fine. You go up, and I'll make us coffee, get the lunch ready."

Tim went upstairs, and I put the kettle on, then sat at the kitchen table to think. In the last two days I'd saved Tim's life once, though he didn't know it. But now he'd chosen to protect me, at the risk of his own life. Of course, the rockfall couldn't have harmed me, but to Tim I was just a young woman he hardly knew, yet...

I shook my head. It didn't really change anything. My mission was still the same, and I still had to find Tim's weaknesses, exploit them to achieve my goal.

I made the coffee, and after a few minutes Tim came down. He sat opposite me and picked up his mug. "Thanks."

I tried to think how I should react. "Well, thank you again for..."

Tim looked embarrassed. "Anyone would have done the same."

He glanced across to the kitchen counter. "We should have something to eat."

"Sorry," I said. "I forgot about the lunch." "Not surprising, really," he smiled, getting up to unpack our picnic.

We ate in silence, then Tim said, "You probably don't feel like going out again this afternoon. How about we sit in the garden? You could even use the pool – I don't bother much, but it's always ready for when Sally visits."

"Sounds great," I said. I thought for a moment. "Is she due to come home for a visit anytime soon? It'd be great to see her."

Tim nodded. "I think she was planning to come next weekend – I'll call her later to let her know you're here, I'm sure that'll firm up her plans."

He got up from the table. "I'll wash up. You go up and change if you want to swim?"

I nodded. "Sure."

I went up the stairs to Sally's room, and stood in front of the mirror. I pictured the effect I wanted, and my silvery dress faded out, replaced by a bikini in bright yellow. As an afterthought, I added a gold bar in my now-pierced navel, and grinned to myself as I saw the young woman who now appeared in the mirror – attractive, with a hint of something less than innocent.

I made my way out to the garden, finding Tim sitting in a recliner, concentrating on a novel. He glanced up, and although his face betrayed nothing outwardly, I picked up his thoughts – pleasure, lust quickly suppressed, a powerful twinge of loneliness, a flash of his wife's face and regret.

He smiled. "Almost wish I'd decided to join you."

I returned his smile, and walked over to the edge of the pool, diving in gracefully. I surfaced, turning back, and caught Tim's eyes on me for a moment before he looked back at his page. I swam a few lengths, then pulled myself out onto the side of the pool, curling my legs beneath me and coiling my long hair over my shoulder.

Tim glanced up. "You look like the Little Mermaid statue."

I shook my head. "Don't know that one?"

He smiled. "The story goes that a mermaid fells in love with a prince, and begs to be allowed to become human so she can be with him. Her wish is granted, but the cost is that she will always feel as though her feet are walking on sharp knives."

He paused thoughtfully. "The end of the story is that the prince has to marry someone else, and the mermaid throws herself into the sea. Instead of drowning, she becomes a spirit of the air, and she is told that if she does good things and weeps for the sorrow she sees in the world, after three hundred years she will be given a soul of her own and go to heaven."

I felt as though something had pierced my heart. Tim could have no idea of the effect his story would have on me, but I remembered – so long ago – my last moments in heaven, before the choice I'd made took me down, out, into the blackness.

"Are you alright?" asked Tim anxiously.

I nodded. "Sorry, I was miles away. I'd love to see a picture of that statue."

I stood up. "Think I've had enough swimming now."

I glanced at Tim. "I forgot to bring a towel down with me. Any chance you could..."

He got up. "Sure, no problem." I watched him walk to the house and return with a large towel. I smiled at him, turning my back, and felt him hesitate for a moment, then drape the towel over me. I turned to look at him over my shoulder, gratitude and just a hint of something else on my face, and once again I felt him suppress his feelings as he stepped back.

"Thanks, Tim," I said, wrapping the towel around me. "I'll come down again in a minute."

I went upstairs and changed back to my usual appearance, being careful to leave my hair wet, then joined Tim again by the pool.

He looked up. "I was wondering what we should do for food tonight. Perhaps we should go out somewhere, a sort of celebration that we're still alive."

"Sounds great," I said. "I didn't really bring anything to wear for an evening out, though."

He smiled. "Sally left a lot of her clothes when she went to college. I think you two are similar in size –" here I picked up a flashback in his mind to an image of me in my bikini – "and I know she won't mind if you borrow something."

I nodded. "OK – I'll take a look."

We went back into the house, and Tim went into his room to change while I explored Sally's wardrobe.

As I'd expected, most of her clothes were fairly conservative, but at one end of the rail I found a long dress in a dark silk fabric, cut low at the back.

I slipped into it, smoothing it over my stomach, and reached behind me for the zip. Then a thought occurred to me. I quickly picked up a bottle of perfume from the dresser, dabbing a few drops on my neck and wrists, then went to the door and opened it.

"Tim?"

"Hmm?" I heard him answer.

"Can you help me with this zip?"

He came into the room, and smiled. "That's the dress Sally wore to her eighteenth."

I turned to let him pull the zip up, and as he caught the scent I'd used – his daughter's – I grinned to myself, feeling his simultaneous attraction and confusion.

He cleared his throat. "So you're ready then?"

I nodded. We went down the stairs, Tim's eyes on me as I walked in front of him. He held the car door for me, then slid behind the wheel.

We set off further out of town, and after a few miles I spotted lights ahead.

"That's where we're going," Tim pointed. He pulled into the car park and again opened the door for me, watching as I stepped elegantly out of the car.

We went in to the restaurant and were quickly seated. Tim turned to me. "I think the occasion deserves champagne, don't you."

We ordered our meal, then the sommelier approached with a bucket on a stand and opened the champagne, expertly pouring us each a glass then returning the bottle to the ice.

Tim lifted his glass. "To life."

I echoed his toast, reflecting inwardly that life – real, joyful, grateful life – was exactly the thing I was here to taint, to deny him.

Our starters arrived, and I felt the tang of the sauce, the crispness of the lettuce. "This is good."

Tim nodded, looking up from his soup. "By the way, I hope you don't mind, I'll be going to church in the morning. You don't have to come, if you want a lie-in."

I used my napkin to hide my confusion. Of course I didn't want to go to church, but I needed to know what Tim was hearing.

And, I reflected, these people wouldn't be perfect. Every opportunity for stirring things up, a little dissension.

"Of course – I'd love to come," I smiled.

When we'd finished our main course, Tim asked, "Dessert?"

"Mm, please."

The waiter wheeled over the trolley, and I chose a rich gateau with the aroma of cherry brandy.

Tim smiled. "I'd love to, but I think there's enough alcohol in that to put me over the limit. I'll take the fruit salad, please."

We lingered over our coffee, then finally Tim said with a hint of regret in his voice, "We'd better get going if we're getting up in the morning."

Tim paid the bill, and we drove back to the house through the darkness.

"Well, straight to bed, I think," Tim said. We walked up the stairs, and as I reached the door of Sally's room I said, "Tim?"

"Hmm?"

I paused. "Goodnight – and thanks again." I looked into his face, tilting my head upwards a little.

I felt him hesitate, then he bent to me, his lips barely touching mine. "Night, Amy." And he was gone.

I went in and closed the door behind me. I thought for a moment, trying to consider my strategy. Well, perhaps the church service would produce something unexpected, something I could use.

I sat down, and once again reached out my senses to Tim's room. As he dreamed, I sifted through his emotions, and I stopped, shocked despite myself. Amid all the confusion I'd caused – swimming that afternoon, then wearing Sally's dress, her scent, our fleeting kiss – I sensed something else, something I hardly recognised.

Love?

I shook my head. Even if somehow he might feel something for what he thought I was, if he knew the truth he would be repelled, appalled.

The next morning, we had breakfast, then walked down the road in the warm mid-morning sun to the old Norman church. The vicar greeted us at the door, and Tim introduced me as an old friend of his daughter's.

I stretched my awareness, and caught the edge of a couple of conversations. "...half his age, is she really just a friend of his daughter... dress is a bit short for church, no decency these young people..."

I grinned inwardly. This was exactly what I'd been expecting. This I could work with.

The service started, and Tim looked at me, startled, as I hit the first note of the hymn in a clear, pure voice, the sound seeming to float toward the vaulted ceiling of the old church building.

As we sat, he said, "That's quite a voice you have."

I forced a smile. "Oh, I used to be in a choir." But that was a long time ago. No singing now.

Tim was about to reply, when the pastor announced the Bible reading. We waited as an elderly gentleman found his way to the passage, then began.

"In the sixth month of Elizabeth's pregnancy, God sent –"

I folded my arms. The last thing I wanted to hear was the account of how – when we thought we were finally beginning to make some progress – everything changed.

I shook my head. I was still here, wasn't I – no-one had stopped me coming, nothing was keeping me from doing what I wanted to Tim.

The pastor spoke briefly after the reading, then we sang another hymn and he gave the blessing.

"You have a lovely voice, dear," said an elderly lady who'd been standing in front of us."

"Thanks," I muttered. I followed Tim around as he chatted to various people, then after a while I said, "Shall we go?"

"OK," he replied. We shook hands with the pastor again, and walked down the path from the church.

"What would you like to do for lunch?" I asked.

"Let's go to the supermarket," Tim said. "There's a café there, and we can get what we need for the week."

I caught his glance back up the path, and grinned inwardly. So he had conflicts about shopping on a Sunday, but we were going anyway. Good.

We went back to the house to pick up the car, and Tim drove us to the shop. We walked into the café, and Tim said, "Pick anything you want."

I looked at the menu. "All day breakfast sounds good." All that fat and salt – no harm to me, but not good for a man in his forties with a desk job.

"Great idea," said Tim. He ordered for both of us, and we got drinks and sat at a table by the window.

"I'll get us some newspapers for this afternoon," he said. "What did you think of church?"

"OK," I shrugged. "I caught a couple of comments, though – some of those old ladies have sharp tongues."

He frowned. "I'm sorry, Amy. I hope I didn't put you in a difficult position." Again I found myself struggling for words, but recovered. "Well, everyone's human, despite what they say about 'do unto others'."

Tim sighed. "You have a point."

Our food arrived, and I watched as Tim ate, obviously enjoying the treat.

"How's yours?" he asked.

"Mm, good."

When we'd finished eating, Tim found a trolley and we walked up and down the various aisles. When we reached the biscuits, Tim reached up and took two packets, bright pink, with a picture of marshmallow centres.

"Sally's favourite," he said. "I always get a couple of packets when I know she's coming."

We filled the trolley, and I helped Tim pack at the checkout. He paid with his card, and I remembered that he was one of the fortunate ones, enough money not to have to worry.

We drove home, and Tim unpacked, then said, "You settle down with the papers, and I'll give Sally a quick call."

I went through into the living room, and I amused myself reading about earthquakes, floods, famine, and all the more human signs of a broken world – divorce, abuse, violence.

Tim returned, smiling. "Sally will come next weekend – she's looking forward to seeing you again."

I sensed a hesitation in his voice, knowing that Sally would remember the ambiguities of our earlier relationship, the times when we'd got into trouble and I'd been less than willing to take my share of the blame. 

Still, she had benefited from my ability to attract the boys in her class, always making sure that I pushed one of them in her direction when we went out. Not that it had every really led anywhere...

I pulled myself back to the present. "That's great."

Tim sat down, picking up a colour supplement and starting to read. "I do like looking at the clothes the celebrities wear to the Oscars."

The afternoon passed quietly – Tim got up to make us coffee – and soon it started to go dark outside.

"Do you want anything else to eat?" Tim asked.

I shook my head. "Lunch was great. But you have something if you like?"

"Think I'm OK. Want to watch a DVD?"

"Sure."

Tim knelt to riffle through the discs under the TV. "This one – I like Nicholas Cage and Meg Ryan."

He started the film playing, and we settled down side by side on the sofa to watch. As the plot began to unfold, I looked at him, seeing him smiling. "I guess this isn't really very close to the truth, but it's fun to speculate."

We continued to watch, and I gasped as the main character was involved in an accident. "Is she OK?" He didn't speak, and I looked across to see tears running down his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'd forgotten the ending – I don't think I've watched it since Sarah died."

Trying to work out what he'd expect of me, I put my arm tentatively round his shoulders, feeling his body shake with grief as the character left behind reflected, "I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss of her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One."

I thought back to the story Tim had told me the previous day, then shook my head, telling myself that there was no such thing. What I was, I was, and that was it.

Tim looked at me questioningly. "You OK?"

I nodded. "We should get some sleep. Work tomorrow."

As I removed my arm from Tim's shoulders, I sensed a hint of disappointment, then he took a deep breath. "You're right."

We went upstairs, and this time as we parted Tim made no move to touch me. In his mind I sensed him remembering his wife, closing out any thought of me.

Damn, I thought, then caught myself. It didn't matter what he thought of me, as long as he wasn't pursuing goodness. For all I cared, he could lose himself in hopeless longing for a lost past, or sink into bitterness – why had it happened to him?

I sat down on the bed, wrapped in my thoughts, not even bothering to listen to Tim's sleeping mind.



From Another Place Ch. 03



The next day I followed Tim to work as usual, taking up my position in the corner of his office. I was determined to make a real start on my assigned task, and I took opportunities where I could – switching pages between documents when he left his desk, deleting one or two unread emails.

My interference soon paid off, and Tim spoke sharply to his secretary about the mixed-up documents. Towards the end of the day he took a phone call, and I saw him struggle with his anger as he insisted that he'd received no such email, so how could he be expected to respond?

By the time he reached home, I was sitting in the living room, and I heard the door slam, then his dispirited footsteps in the hall.

"Hi, Amy," he said in a tired voice. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good – I think I'm making progress. You?"

He shook his head. "You know you have those days when nothing seems to go quite right? I'm really beginning to wonder if the job's getting on top of me."

"Are you sure you're not coming down with something?" I asked. "Maybe you should see the doctor. Or maybe a break would help, to away from it all for a bit."

He brightened, and I inwardly cursed my big mouth.

"Sally will be here at the weekend," he said. "I'm looking forward to that."

He smiled at me. "How about I try and cook that Chinese you did for us last week? You can tell me if I'm going wrong."

"Sure, that'd be great." We went through into the kitchen, and Tim busied himself preparing the ingredients. Soon the pans were sizzling on the stove, and he grinned at me. "I think I did OK there."

We sat down to eat, and I saw Tim relax visibly. "That's better," he said. "And Amy?"

"Hmm?"

"I really appreciate having you here – I'm enjoying the company."

"I'm glad," I said, inwardly wondering if my plan – getting close to him in order to have the best opportunity for troublemaking – had been a big mistake.

We finished eating, and Tim said, "I'll probably feel better for an early night. You're welcome to stay up for a while if you like."

He went upstairs, and I sat down on the sofa, looking out into the clear night. I almost imagined that I could heard the music the stars made as they turned in their courses, the melody that had been the constant backdrop to my life until...

I shook my head. Wasn't it better to be on the winning side? Despite Tim's unexpected resilience today, these human creatures were weak, easily distracted. It usually took only the slightest touch to turn them from pursuit of the good, direct them to the easy way out.

I climbed the stairs to my room, and checked on Tim. He was asleep, the anxieties and frustrations of the day fading instead of whirling in his mind as I'd hoped.

"Well, there's always tomorrow," I said to myself.

Over the next few days, though, my plans came to nothing. Despite my interference, Tim's company was awarded the contract he'd been working on, and he was in meetings most of the time, making plans, agreeing the details. Each evening he arrived home tired but more optimistic.

Suddenly it was Friday evening, and Tim grinned at me across the kitchen table. "Sally should be here soon. I've got a surprise planned for both of you this weekend."

As if on cue, I heard a key in the door, and then footsteps. Tim got up from his seat, and as Sally came through the doorway he hugged her, lifting her off her feet.

"Oof, steady, Dad," she said, breathlessly. She glanced across the room and I felt suddenly uncomfortable at meeting this young woman again.

"Hi, Sally," I said.

She smiled uncertainly. "Hi, Amy. It's been a while."

I nodded. "Did Tim tell you? I got a job back here, 'fraid I can't really talk about it."

She nodded, sitting down opposite me. "You'll have to tell me what you've been up to since school. College is great." And she launched into an account of her classes, her friends, their parties.

Tim grinned. "Slow down, Sally. We have all weekend to talk, and I bet you're hungry. I thought I'd order pizza for us – Amy goes for the same stuff as me, but I can get you your favourite too, and extra pineapple."

"Great," said Sally. Tim went out into the hall to phone, and she turned to me. I felt a brief struggle in her thoughts, then she smiled warmly. "It's good to see you again, Amy. I know we seemed to get into a lot of scrapes at school... But after all, we were a lot younger then. And now look at you – working already! I know this is going to be a great weekend, especially if Dad's got a surprise for us – he's good at those."

Damn, I thought to myself. Granted it would be useful to have her trust, especially if this job was going to take longer than I'd thought. But it would have been easier in some ways if she'd settled for cool politeness, barely hiding her suspicions that the girl she'd know at school – always just avoiding serious trouble – must have some hidden agenda in seeking out her father.

Damn these humans and their capacity for... grace. There. I'd said it. Somehow the word burned in my mind, a searing ache, and at the same time seemed to offer – what? Hope? Peace?

I dragged myself back to the present. "Yes, Tim mentioned a surprise. I don't have any idea what, though."

"And I'm not going to let you tease me for hints," said Tim, coming through the door just as I finished my sentence.

"Pizza'll be here in a minute," he continued. "Anyone want a drink?"

I nodded. "I'd love a vodka on the rocks, like you made me the other night."

Sally raised her eyebrows. "That sounds tempting," she said. "Yes please, Dad."

Tim made our drinks, and we went through to the living room. "So what have you been doing since you moved, Amy?" Sally asked.

I began my carefully-fabricated story. "Well, I finished school of course, but I wanted a break before college so I travelled – the usual places, South America, Australia, the Far East." "Wow," said Sally. "That must have been amazing."

I nodded. "I discovered I have an ear for languages, that made it really easy for me to get along. When I came back, I decided to take a course, get to grips properly with a couple of the languages I'd started."

"Of course by then the security situation had changed," – I carefully didn't say exactly which security situation – "and I was approached at the end of the course to take on this job. When they told me I'd be based back here, of course I thought of you, and running into Tim when I arrived was pure serendipity."

I stopped, watching their expressions to see if my mixture of truth and blatant fabrication had convinced them.

Tim nodded. "Well, you can count on whatever help you need from us, Amy."

Just then there was a knock on the door, and Tim got up to fetch the pizza. He returned with the boxes, lifting the lids in turn until he found Sally's.

"Here you go," he said. "Sure you don't want just a sprinkle of something hotter? I have some chilli powder."

Sally made a face at his teasing and took a bite of her pizza. "It's perfect as it is."

I opened my box and started to eat, the jalapenos providing the heat I craved.

When we'd finished our meal, Tim said, "Well, I'm ready for bed, don't know about you two."

Sally nodded. "Come on, Amy. You can tell me more about your travelling."

We went upstairs, and Sally said, "You can have the bathroom first – I have to unpack a couple of things."

I went through into the en-suite, grateful that the arrangements still allowed me the privacy I needed. I thought for a moment, then shifted my dress into a long t-shirt. I splashed water on my face, flushed the toilet, and went back out.

"That was quick," said Sally, smiling. "Dad put in the en-suite because he said I always took ages in the bathroom."

She passed me, closing the door behind her, and I sat down on the bed, trying to think what my strategy should be for the weekend. I could have lifted the details of Tim's surprise from his mind, but somehow I'd held back, telling myself that my reaction would be more convincing if I waited to hear it from him.

Sally emerged from the bathroom in a t-shirt almost identical to mine, though with a cartoon character on the front. She saw my glance and grinned. "I know, it's not exactly the sexiest of nightwear, but I've always like the Disney stuff since I was a little girl."

She indicated the bed. "Which side do you prefer?"

I shrugged. "You can have the side nearest the bathroom – I don't usually have to get up in the night to pee."

Sally got into bed, and I hesitantly slid in beside her. She pulled the covers over us and turned out the light.

"Now," she said, the anticipation obvious in her voice, "tell me everything – all the stuff Dad doesn't need to hear."

I thought rapidly, trying to decide which of my experiences would fit with the story I'd told, and would paint a picture of a young woman continuing to indulge her rebellious streak, without pushing too far the boundaries of what Sally – with her conservative upbringing - would be able to accept.

"Well, I've had boyfriends, of course. One guy I met travelling – " I pictured Raoul's face in my mind – "he was a great kisser."

Sally giggled. "And did you... you know?"

"Sure," I said.

"What's it like?" asked Sally tentatively.

"You mean you haven't...?"

I sensed Sally blushing. "Well, of course I've fooled around – for God's sake don't tell Dad – but no, not all the way."

I suppressed a flinch at her casual use of that word, filing away what she'd confided in me for when it might be useful.

"I guess it's different for everyone," I said. "The important thing is to find out what you both like – don't assume anything's off limits, if it feels good then go for it."

I thought back to the time I'd spent with Raoul. Of course, my ability to sense his thoughts and feelings had given me an unfair advantage – it had been almost disappointingly easy to seduce him, then betray him, leave his relationship with his wife in ruins.

I could tell that Sally wasn't completely convinced by my casual attitude. "Has there ever been anyone, you know, special – who you've thought about staying with?" "Not really," I said. "But maybe you're right – maybe one day soon my prince will come riding in and carry me off." I thought back to Sally's fixation with Disney, and I could tell without even reading her mind, the images that my words conjured up.

I felt her becoming drowsy, and she turned over. "Well, g'night, Amy. Sleep well."

"You too," I said. I turned my attention to Tim, finding him already asleep, his mind filled with anticipation of the next day's surprise.

The next morning, Sally stirred, blinking sleepily. "Hi, Amy. Did you sleep OK?"

I nodded. "You?"

"Definitely. I had all sorts of strange dreams though – you know, those ones where you want to call out, to tell someone something, or to warn them, but your voice just doesn't seem to work."

"Strange," I said. "Don't think I've ever had one quite like that."

Sally bounced out of bed. "Let's go downstairs – Dad will have to tell us what our surprise is now."

I did my best to imitate her enthusiasm, and followed her as she dashed downstairs.

Tim was sitting at the kitchen table. "Morning, sleepyheads," he grinned. "So you want to know what we're doing today?"

"Please," said Sally breathlessly.

"So here's the deal. I booked a day at the spa, the full works – swimming, sauna, massage, makeup." At first Sally's face lit up, then she looked anxious. "You're not going to tag along with us through all that, are you, Dad?"

Tim grinned, shaking his head. "I know when I'm not wanted. Actually, I've arranged a couple of rounds of golf with the chairman of our new client – there's a course at the hotel. We'll join you for lunch, but apart from that I'll stay out of your hair."

Sally wrapped her arms round him and kissed him. "Thanks, Dad. I'm sure Amy and I will have a wonderful time."

I managed a smile. "Definitely."

I pretended to think for a moment. "I don't really have a suitable costume, though, Tim – that yellow one I wore for the pool the other day is a bit skimpy."

I could see Sally looking at me, then at her father, but she obviously dismissed the thought. "That's fine – I have a spare."

"So, breakfast?" asked Tim.

"Just cereal for me, if we're swimming first," said Sally.

"Sounds good," I said. Tim fetched the box for us, and I watched as Sally poured milk into her bowl, then smiled, bending her head to listen to the cereal crackle.

When we'd finished breakfast, Sally said, "Come on – let's go upstairs and get our things. We can shower at the spa before we get into the pool."

We went up, and Sally opened a drawer. "Here," she said, "this should be OK."

I looked at the conservative one-piece swimsuit she held out, its dark colour almost guaranteeing that its wearer would fade into the background.

"Thanks, Sally," I smiled. "It's great."

We went back down, to find Tim loading his clubs into the boot of his car. "OK, you two, hop in."

Sally and I slid into the back seat, and Tim got behind the wheel. "We'll have to get you a chauffeur's cap," teased Sally.

The journey to the spa was only a few minutes, and Tim dropped us at the entrance, then drove off in the direction of the clubhouse.

Sally grinned. "Great – we're on our own. This is going to be brilliant!"

We went into the reception area, and Sally gave our names to the girl behind the desk.

She walked back to me with a slip of paper and a key. "OK, swim first. Sauna, then massage. Lunch at twelve – Dad's back for that with Mr Marshall, of course. Then after lunch we have a mud treatment, and the beauty suite."

"Sounds fantastic," I said. "OK, which way's the pool?"

Sally pointed, and we walked through into a tiled area, a hint of chlorine already in the air.

"Here are the lockers," pointed Sally. She started to undress, and I followed suit.

She glanced across at me. "You have amazing skin – how do you do it?" I resisted the temptation to give the answer we'd always used as a joke when I was between assignments – "immortality and brimstone" – and shrugged. "I guess I get it from my mother."

Sally nodded. "Well, maybe the mud pack will help mine. Come on, let's shower."

We showered quickly, then pulled on our swimming costumes and walked through to the pool area. Without hesitating, I executed a graceful dive into the water, surfacing and turning to look at Sally. She slipped in to the pool, and swam over to me.

"Not sure we're supposed to dive from the side," she said.

"OK," I smiled. "I'll remember. It was pretty good, though, wasn't it. Do you see that guy over there, looking in our direction? I'm sure he was watching."

Sally looked uncomfortable. "I guess."

She brightened. "You want to do some lengths?"

"OK."

We swam side by side for a while, and I was careful to imitate Sally's way of breathing between strokes, even though I didn't really need the oxygen.

After a few lengths, Sally said, "Want to race?"

I grinned. "OK – how about two lengths?"

She glanced at me. "Three, two, one, go!"

I pushed away, using a crawl stroke to take me through the water, and when I reached the other end, I did as I'd seen the professionals do, turning like a seal under the water and striking out in the other direction. I easily beat Sally, and she caught up with me, out of breath.

"Wow," she said. "You're pretty fit. Good job the sauna and the massage aren't competitive events."

Aren't they? I thought to myself. I had some ideas of my own about that.

Sally glanced at the clock. "Our session with the masseur is in about half an hour – just time to fit in the sauna and a dip in the plunge pool afterwards to cool down."

We got out of the pool and walked to the sauna room. No-one else was there, and I sprawled across the lowest bench while Sally sat opposite me.

"Do you want to throw the water on?" she said.

"Sure."

I scooped up a generous amount of water with the dipper and threw it over the hot stones. Clouds of steam rose, and Sally waved her hand, giggling. "You might have overdone it, Amy."

I leaned back on the bench, enjoying the heat. I glanced across at Sally, seeing her perspiring freely. I wondered if she'd notice that I didn't seem to be sweating, but she had her eyes closed.

After a few minutes she stretched. "Wow, that really feels good. A little more steam?"

I threw more water on, though not as much as previously, and changed position.

"Phew," said Sally after a few more minutes, "I think that's about as much as I can stand. You ready to cool down?"

"Sure," I said. Sally opened the door, and I could see goosebumps on her skin as the cooler air touched her. I followed her, and we slipped into the plunge pool together.

"Brrr!" she said. "That's a real jolt to the system."

She climbed out of the pool. "Right – time for a massage."

We picked up towels from a stack, and dried ourselves as we walked towards the massage room. When Sally opened the door, the masseur looked up from the clipboard he was holding.

"Sally and Amy, right?" he said. Sally nodded.

"Good to see you. I'm John, I'll be working you over today," he grinned. "So who's first?"

"You go ahead, Sally," I said.

"OK," said John. "Let's start off with you face down."

Sally took up the indicated position on the table, and I watched as John started to knead her muscles, gently at first, then digging deeper.

"Wow," said Sally, "that really feels good."

John smiled, and began to work his way down her spine, his thumbs pressing in on either side. "That'll deal with some of the tension." He reached the bottom of her spine. "OK, time to turn over."

As he began to massage Sally's upper arms, I reached into his mind, finding what I'd expected – a mixture of professional concentration with carefully-controlled pleasure at the opportunity to be so close to an attractive young woman.

He moved down to Sally's feet, and she squirmed a little as he massaged her soles. "I find most people are ticklish there," he grinned.

He stepped back. "OK, you're done. Amy's turn."

I changed places with Sally, resting my cheek on my hands, and relaxed as I felt strong hands begin to touch me. I opened myself to John's thoughts, anticipating every move, and I heard the smile in his voice as he said, "You make a pretty good subject, Amy, you seem to know what I'm going to do next."

He took his time, and when he started at the top of my back I shifted slightly to straighten my spine. He worked his way down, and I willed him to travel just a little lower.

"OK," he said. "Time to turn over."

I grinned, and turned onto my back. He started to massage my upper arms, but I could sense that his attention was elsewhere on my body.

"I bet you enjoy your job," I said.

He nodded. "It's always good when clients leave more relaxed than when they came. I do physiotherapy, too, if you'd be interested."

He continued massaging me, ending up at my feet. I grinned when he touched my soles. "That's nice – I don't think I'm ticklish, actually."

I felt his regret as he stepped back. "Well, that's it, I'm afraid. Hope you enjoy your lunch."

As we made our way back to the changing room, I could sense Sally's mixed feelings as she spoke. "He was a bit of a hunk, wasn't he. But I could see you flirting with him – I wasn't sure about that."

I shrugged. "He enjoyed himself too. No harm done, and maybe he'll leave his number at the desk for me to pick up when we leave."

Sally's eyes betrayed her shock, but she smiled. "I guess."

We got dressed, and walked back to the reception area. Tim was standing there with an older man in expensive golfing clothes.

"Mr Marshall, this is my daughter Sally, and her friend Amy," he introduced us.

"Good to meet you, girls. Call me Bob."




From Another Place Ch. 03



"Have you enjoyed your morning?" asked Tim.

Sally nodded. "Thanks, Dad, today is great."

We walked through to the dining room and found a table. A waiter took our order for drinks – I opted for a Bloody Mary, heavy on the Worcestershire sauce.

I looked at the menu. "Wow, this looks excellent. I think I'd like pâté, then the veal sounds good. Or maybe a steak, really rare."

Sally glanced at me. "Think I'll go for the melon. Steak sounds nice, but I prefer mine done for a bit longer."

The waiter brought our drinks, and we ordered – I went for the steak in the end.

"So how did the golf go?" Sally asked.

Bob grinned. "I think Tim's got the idea – I won the round by four strokes."

Our starters arrived, and I concentrated on spreading my pâté thickly on the toast that came with it.

"What's on the agenda this afternoon?" enquired Bob.

"Mud pack, then the beauty suite," answered Sally. "We get to try some different makeup."

Bob smiled. "Never understood that mud thing, myself."

We finished our starters, and the waiter brought the next course. "Gosh, that really is pink," Sally said, looking at my steak.

We passed on dessert – "Still got all that walking to do," said Bob – and Sally and I went back through into the spa.

"This looks like it," said Sally, and we went through a door into a light, airy room.

"Hi," said the girl sitting by the entrance. "I'm Jane, one of the beauticians here. You're booked for face packs, right?"

Sally nodded. "I've never had this before."

"Don't worry," said Jane. "Nothing to it. Take a seat." We sat down, and Jane said, "Before we get going, do you want music while you're here? Some people have trouble sitting still, not talking."

Sally nodded. "Something light."

Jane touched a control, and soft music came from concealed speakers. 

She fetched a container, and said, "Do you want to go first, Amy? Then Sally can see that it's not so difficult."

"Sure."

I leaned back, and closed my eyes as Jane carefully applied the mud to my cheeks, then to my forehead, adding more layers.

"OK?" she asked.

"Mm-hm," I managed.

I turned my head, careful not to move my face, and watched as Sally received the same treatment.

"OK," said Jane. "So we leave that for a while – I'll be over there, if you need anything just wave."

I settled back, and reached out my senses, seeking Tim. I found him where I'd expected, walking round the golf course, and I watched in my mind's eye as he teed up for the next hole.

He raised the club, and as he went to strike the ball I gave him a tiny mental nudge.

"Oh, cracking shot," I heard from Bob Marshall. "Right on the green. Wouldn't be surprised if you made an eagle on that one." He teed up, and this time my mental nudge was more to distract his attention.

"Damn," he said. "In the rough at the side..."

I grinned mentally, and left them to it. Hopefully I'd done enough to take the shine off Tim's careful attempts to let his client win the afternoon's round as well.

I drew my attention back to the spa, and eavesdropped on Sally's thoughts for a moment.

Her mind was filled with a mixture of images – John the masseur, her idea of Raoul, someone else I didn't recognise – and I felt an inward satisfaction as her half-formed thoughts swayed between desire and guilt.

I was jolted out of my eavesdropping by Jane. "OK, time to take this off," she said. I submitted patiently as she carefully removed the mud from my face and wiped away the traces. "Does that feel better?"

"Mm," I said, "feels good."

I watched as Sally was released from the mud on her features, wriggling her nose and lips. "Hmm," she said, "it does make a difference, doesn't it."

She turned to the beautician. "Thanks, Jane."

Jane smiled. "No problem. Now scoot! it's time for the finishing touches."

Sally reached for my hand as we made our way down the corridor, and I felt the unaccustomed warmth of her fingers against mine.

"Here we are," she said, turning a corner. Despite myself, I stopped, impressed. Two chairs stood in front of a mirror, its frame surrounded by bright bulbs, and I saw every variety of makeup imaginable – powder, foundation, mascara, eyeshadow, nail polish.

"Come and sit down," invited the young woman standing to the left of the chairs. "I'm Marie, and I'll be doing my best to turn you two into works of art."

We sat, and she looked at us carefully. "Amy, you have... a wonderful complexion. Unusual – I don't think I've ever seen anything the same. I have some ideas, some quite dramatic shades, maybe even a smoky tint to the foundation?"

I grinned. "Sure."

She moved on to Sally. "Mm, Sally, you have such an innocent, clear look. Maybe for you something less dramatic, a few touches to bring out what you already have?"

"Screw that," said Sally. "I want the works. I want every man who passes me to look, look again, and keep on looking."



From Another Place Ch. 04



I felt a jolt of triumph, and Marie raised her eyebrows. "OK -- you're the boss. Take a look at what I do with Amy, and see if any of the colours or techniques grab you."

She turned back to me. "So, I'll start with the nail polish."

She picked up a bottle, its tint dark, almost burnt. Sally watched as Marie knelt before me, cupping the sole of each foot in her hand as she applied the polish.

Marie straightened, and took my hand. "I don't even need to do anything to your nails before I start," she said, "they're perfect."

She started to coat my nails, and I relaxed, enjoying the sensation of the slick dark fluid, almost like crude oil. First one hand, then the other, and she stepped back. "Just a minute for that to dry."

She put the top back on the bottle. "So, is this for a special occasion?"

Sally glanced at me. "Dad didn't say, but maybe he'll let us go out tonight."

I grinned. "I like the sound of that. I bet I could find us somewhere..."

Marie glanced from Sally to me. "Well, I'll do my best to make you two stand out, wherever you end up."

She picked up a bottle, and started to apply the foundation to my skin, the liquid gliding on smoothly.

I saw Sally watching, fascinated, as Marie continued to transform me, moving from colour to mascara to eye shadow. She stepped back, and nodded. "One last thing."

She ran her finger along the tubes of lip gloss. "Can't improve on a classic."

She picked up the tube she'd chosen, and carefully coated my lips with the deep crimson. "There."

She moved aside to let me look in the mirror, and I made a satisfied noise deep in my throat.

Marie turned to Sally. "Now you're sure you want to look so different?"

Sally nodded.

"OK," said Marie. "It will need to be a little more conventional, given your colouring, but trust me, you'll still turn heads."

She looked at the selection of nail polish. "Something that'll contrast with Amy's."

She picked up a bottle and held it against Sally's skin. "Yes, this one."

She knelt again, painting Sally's toenails with the pale blue tint.

"I like it," said Sally. Marie took her hands, and said, "Just a little work on the cuticles and a touch with the file, these'll be fine."

She worked on Sally's nails, then wiped them with a faintly scented lotion.

Sally watched as Marie brushed the polish on smoothly, then she leaned back, closing her eyes, to let the glistening liquid dry.

Marie started with a lighter foundation on Sally's skin, then added colour, moving on to blue tones in the eye shadow, a hint of sparkle. Mascara emphasised Sally's lashes, and a dark pencil sharpened her brows.

"Now for your lips," she mused. She stepped back, and nodded.

She picked up a tube of gloss. "Not quite so dramatic as Amy's, but trust me, in contrast to the shades I've used elsewhere, this dark red will have quite an effect."

She coated Sally's lips, and moved aside.

"Wow," breathed Sally. "I look really different, don't I."

I grinned. "Now we just have to find out if you get the effect you wanted."

I thought for a moment. "If Tim does let us go out, we'll need to decide what to wear."

Sally smiled. "I have a red dress Dad bought me for the autumn ball at college -- it'll go perfectly with your makeup. I went shopping a couple of weeks ago, and found a blue silk dress in the sales. I think it'll suit what Marie's done with me."

I nodded. "Sounds great."

We thanked Marie, and walked out to the reception area. Tim and his golfing companion were just coming through the door, and I relished the expression on their faces as they caught sight of us approaching.

"That's... quite stunning," said Tim, looking at his daughter with a thoughtful expression.

She smiled. "I'm glad you're impressed. How did the golf go this afternoon?" I waited, expecting Tim to look embarrassed, but instead Bob Marshall spoke. "It was a close thing -- your father beat me by one stroke on the last hole. I hooked my first shot in to the rough on the tenth, and I was a couple of shots behind for most of the round from then on."

He turned to Tim with a grin. "Proves you're not one of these bootlickers who lets the client win every time -- I like that."

I suppressed my frustration, conceding another loss, and waited for Sally to float her idea about the evening.

I didn't have to wait long. "Dad," said Sally sweetly, "seeing as Amy and I have put so much effort into looking amazing, would you... could we go out this evening, just the two of us?"

Tim's face betrayed his reservations, but Bob clapped him on the shoulder and boomed, "Of course they should go, Tim. Everyone needs to let their hair down once in a while."

"We'll be careful, Dad," Sally said earnestly. "You can drop us in town, and we'll phone a taxi from one of the big firms to bring us back."

"OK," said Tim. "I guess the two of you should be able to look after each other."

"Yay!" said Sally, kissing him on the cheek and throwing me a delighted look. "Come on, then, Dad, we need to get back and change."

"Bye then, Bob," said Tim. "I'll call you on Monday to talk about those details."

We walked back to the car, and again Sally and I sat in the back seat while Tim drove us home. We dashed upstairs and changed, Sally grinning broadly when she looked in the mirror.

"See, Amy, my dress goes perfectly with these shades."

She looked at me. "You look amazing -- kind of sexy-scary, if you know what I mean."

I grinned. "That's the plan."

We went downstairs, and again I watched Tim's reaction.

"Fantastic," he said. "Just remember, stick together."

"Yes, Dad," Sally said dutifully.

We got in the car, and Tim set off in the direction of the city centre. "This is just like when you were at home, Sally," he teased. "Dad's taxi."

He pulled up outside a smart club in a brightly-lit street. "I think this place has a reputation for being safe."

Sally glanced up. "Might be a bit expensive?"

Tim reached into his jacket pocket. "Here -- don't want you having to accept drinks from strangers."

Sally grinned, and carefully folded the notes, putting them in her purse. She leaned over to kiss Tim on the cheek. "Thanks, Dad."

We stepped out of the car. "Have a good time," said Tim, then he was gone.

Sally glanced at me, hesitation mixed with an unmistakeable hint of rebellion in her expression. "Here? Or somewhere a bit more interesting?" I grinned, and reached out my awareness to a group of provocatively-dressed young women walking by, lifting their destination from their minds. "I know a place."

We walked away from the brightly-lit club, turning down a side street, and I smiled to myself as I recognised the seedy locality where I'd first arrived in the city.

"Here," I said, turning in through battered double doors. The atmosphere inside was smoky, and the music had a trance-like, hypnotic quality.

I glanced at Sally, seeing a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty on her face. "Come on -- I'll get us some drinks."

She reached in her purse, but I said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

I walked up to the bar, catching the barman's attention. "Bloody Mary for me, heavy on the Worcester sauce, and for my friend here, a Blue Hawaii."

The barman grinned. "Nice to see someone who knows their drinks."

He poured my Bloody Mary, then Sally watched with delight as he mixed her cocktail in a shaker, pouring the blue liquid over ice and finishing it with a flower at the edge of the glass.

I reached into his mind, giving just the slightest of nudges, and his eyes lost focus for a moment. "Thanks, ladies -- enjoy your drinks."

He turned to serve another customer, and Sally glanced at me, puzzled.

I grinned. "First one's free for the girls -- encourages us to stay."

"But..." She shook her head, dismissing the thought, and took a sip of her drink. "Mmm, this is nice. Pineapple, coconut?"

I nodded. "And a blue liqueur for the colour." I didn't draw her attention to the liberal dash of rum.

I sipped at my Bloody Mary, enjoying the heat of the peppery sauce, and looked around. "There's a table."

We sat down, and I could see Sally relaxing. "This is OK."

I opened my senses to the mental chatter in the dimly-lit space, enjoying the undercurrents -- desire, guilt, disillusion.

I glanced across at Sally, and she returned my look. "Can we dance?" she asked.

"Definitely," I said. We got to our feet, and I concentrated for a moment, ensuring that anyone tempted to occupy our table would feel a vague but irresistible sense of unease.

We walked to the dance floor, and I watched slightly surprised as Sally gave herself over to the music, closing her eyes and swaying with the rhythm, moving her arms sinuously.

After a few minutes, the track changed, and Sally said, "That was great -- I really got into it -- but I think I need to cool down for a minute or two, get some fresh air."

Before I could answer, she started to make her way purposefully in the direction of the exit. I went back to our table to pick up my wrap, then walked towards the door, but before I reached it, I felt a stab of utter terror from Sally's mind.

I forced my way through the people in my path, ignoring their irritated looks, and stepped out into the street. I followed the unmistakeable trace of Sally's mind, turning into a narrow alley beside the club.

At the far end of the alley, Sally stood with her back to the fence, confronted by two men. "Don't be scared, darling," sneered one, "stick with us and we'll make sure you have a real nice time tonight."

I could see the fear on Sally's face, but she managed to speak, defiance in her voice. "Don't you dare touch me."

I moved round the corner, and positioned myself between Sally and the two men. "Trust me, this isn't your lucky day," I told them.

The one who'd spoken glanced at his companion. "Say, Jed, this one looks real interesting -- more spirit to her than the other one. Guess now we don't have to share..."

I turned my back to Sally, and for a brief moment let them see me in my true form, the awful reality of which my makeup was only the merest suggestion.

Seconds later they were running as if the hounds of hell were behind them. I went to Sally, taking her hands in mine. "Are you OK?"

She nodded shakily. "Amy, I was so frightened."

She hesitated. "They ran away?"

I thought rapidly, and put an edge of fear into my own voice. "I... Sally, I pulled a gun on them. I have it for work, I'm not supposed to carry it when I'm off duty."

I looked around. "I don't think they'll be back, but we'd better get out of here." Sally nodded, forcing a smile. "I didn't get to finish my drink," she said.

I took her arm, and we walked back to the main street, hailing a taxi. I gave Tim's address, and the driver moved off.

I felt Sally relax, and I had time again for my own thoughts. A huge sense of disbelief began to overwhelm me. Without any real effort, I'd brought Sally into a situation where any one of a dozen things could have happened -- violence, a plausible but predatory stranger slipping a date-rape drug into her drink, or just a meaningless encounter leaving her feeling tainted. She'd even walked away from me by her own choice, into a situation that had only one possible outcome.

And I'd thrown it away. My easy chance to destroy Tim's contentment at a stroke, to give him something -- on top of the grief he already bore -- to resent, wrap his bitterness around, torture himself with.

I shook my head. No time for regrets, only results. I'd have to salvage the situation, try to keep what I could, and hope for another chance.

I turned to Sally. "I'm really sorry," I began. "I should never have taken us to that place, I was stupid. I just wanted to show off, prove how into everything I was."

I hesitated. "Please don't tell Tim. I promise I'll never do anything like that again."

Sally put her hand on mine. "It's OK," she said. "It's partly my fault -- I wanted to see what it was like, to do something I knew Dad would really be freaked out by."

She looked at me anxiously. "You don't think you'll get into trouble? You know, threatening them with --" she glanced at the cab driver -- "that?"

I shook my head. "I can't imagine them telling anyone, and anyway, how would they recognise us, even if they knew where to look."

Sally squeezed my hand. "OK."

The taxi pulled up at the bottom of Tim's drive, and Sally fumbled in her purse for the fare. "Keep the change," she said.

The driver smiled, looking at the notes in his hand. "Thank you, miss. You take care now."

Sally took my arm as we walked up the drive. She pulled out her key and turned it in the lock. As we walked into the hall, Tim appeared from the living room.

"You're back early," he said. "Is everything OK?"

"Fine," smiled Sally. "We just had one drink and danced a little."

She turned to me. "That cocktail was really nice, Amy -- perhaps we could get Dad to make it for us."

"What was it?" asked Tim.

"A Blue Hawaii. With a flower and everything," grinned Sally.

Tim nodded. "Makes sense -- you liking pineapple and all. I'll pick up a bottle of blue curacao next time I go shopping."

Sally suppressed a yawn, and I knew the shock was catching up on her.

"Come on," I grinned. "Can't go to sleep till we've got our makeup off." We went upstairs, and helped each other unzip our dresses and hang them carefully back in Sally's wardrobe.

"I've got some cream that's supposed to be really good for getting makeup off," said Sally. She went through into the en suite, returning with a tub and a stack of cotton wool pads.

"I'll do you first," I said, taking a pad and liberally covering it with the cream. Sally's makeup came off easily, and I made sure I got every trace, using a final pad to cleanse her neck and throat where Marie had carried the foundation down.

Sally looked in the mirror, and smiled wistfully. "I still have the nail polish for a day or so, anyway."

She turned to me. "OK, your turn."

She began to wipe off my makeup, and as her hands moved gently, almost tenderly, I realised I was fighting not to be touched by the affection and friendship I could sense filling her mind.

I made a mental gesture as though to push away something irrelevant. Sally finished her task, and smiled at me. "Back to your usual self."

Was I? I wondered. I found myself trying to remember what it had been like before -- before the falling, the darkness, then the almost unbearable heat. The force I'd felt taking hold of me, transforming me, somehow turning my lightness into what I was now, needing the heat, craving the flavour of everything dark, bitter...

"Amy?" I heard Sally's voice. "Are you OK?"

I wrenched myself back to the present. "Sure. I'm just a little tired."

Sally smiled. "Well, you can take first turn in the bathroom. I don't mind if you're asleep when I come out."

I went through to the bathroom, grateful for a moment by myself. I quickly shifted into the long t-shirt Sally expected me to wear for sleeping, and remembered to flush the toilet, rinsing the last traces of the cream from my fingers.

I went back out, and Sally slipped past me, smiling. I lay down in the bed, and closed my eyes.

A few minutes later I heard Sally return, and felt her slip in beside me.

"Amy?" she whispered.

"Mmm?" I feigned a sleepy response.

I felt her hesitate. "Thanks for today. The fun parts were fun, and... thanks for what you did in the other parts."

I nodded. "Thanks, Sally. Sleep tight."

I felt her hand touch my shoulder, then she settled into the pillow, closing her eyes.



From Another Place Ch. 05



I was shaken out of my dark reverie by the sound of the alarm on Sally's phone. She reached out and picked it up, silencing the alarm.

"Dad said you didn't mind coming to church," she said.

I managed a smile, while groaning mentally. I consoled myself with the fact that the sharp-tongued old ladies might have something to say worth hearing.

"Do you want a shower now, or after breakfast?" Sally continued.

"After breakfast is fine," I said. "You go ahead."

She went through to the bathroom, and I heard her singing softly to herself as the water splashed.

"I'm going down," I called. "If Tim's not up yet I'll make the coffee."

"OK," she called.

I went down to the kitchen and put the kettle on. I heard footsteps on the stairs, and glanced up to see Tim coming down.

"Morning," he said. "Looks like it's going to be a nice day. Maybe we can go for a walk after lunch."

I nodded, feeling more cheerful. After all, church was only an hour or two, then the day was our own again.

I made the coffee, pouring a mug for Sally, and after a few more minutes she appeared in jeans and t-shirt, her hair still wet. "Morning, Dad."

She sat down at the table, and Tim grinned. "Got you a treat." He took a bag from the counter and passed it to Sally. She opened the top, and looked up at him, smiling. "Danish pastry – I love these."

She slid the pastries out onto a plate, and offered it to me. "You choose first, Amy."

I saw the image in her mind of her favourite – a cinnamon whirl – and despite my intentions, I couldn't bring myself to disappoint her. I took the apple pastry, and Sally grinned. "Looks like you get pecan and maple again, Dad."

Tim nodded, transferring the pastry to his plate. Sally took hers, and bit into it, her eyes closed. "Mm."

I quickly finished my pastry, and said, "Well, looks like I'll be the last one ready."

"Don't worry," said Tim. "The service never quite starts on time anyway."

I went upstairs, and decided to try the shower – my hair would have to be wet anyway to convince Sally and Tim. I made the mental gesture that disappeared my t-shirt, and got into the cubicle, turning on the water.

I stood under the spray, enjoying the feeling of the water on my skin despite myself. I picked up a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed a little onto my hand. The scent was of apples, and I rubbed it through my hair, then rinsed out the foam.

I turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, quickly drying with a towel from the rail. Then I went back through to the bedroom and stood in front of the mirror.

I chose jeans and t-shirt for today's outfit, like Sally's but just a little tighter in one or two places. I turned, and grinned at my reflection, satisfied with the effect.

Sally and Tim were in the hall when I got downstairs. "Time we were off," said Tim.

Again we walked the short distance to the church, and the vicar greeted Sally enthusiastically. "Good to see you again," he said. "We miss you in the young people's group."

We went in and found seats, and I listened in on the various conversations. To my disappointment I didn't hear anything especially negative, though I caught a flash of interest in me from a quiet-looking man who sat at the back.

The organ started to play, and we stood for the first hymn. This time I took care to moderate my singing, and I listened to Sally's clear, innocent voice as she put her all into the ancient words.

We sat down at the end of the hymn, and a white-haired man approached the lectern.

He began to read. "And the angels who did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their proper dwelling—these he has kept in darkness..."

I felt a sudden urge to be elsewhere, anywhere but sitting in the hard pew of this sacred place, listening to a mere human discussing my fate. I whispered to Sally, "Sorry – I really need to get out."

She shifted to let me pass, her face showing concern. "Are you OK?"

I gulped, only half-feigning nausea. "I'll be fine."

I stumbled out into the daylight, and found a bench by the graveyard. I heard steps behind me, and Sally sat next to me. She waited patiently, not speaking.

I felt something surge inside me, something irresistible, and I heard myself speaking, as though someone else was using my voice.

"Sally, I..."

She took my hand. "It's OK. You don't need to tell me. Something like this happened to me, about the third or fourth time I came here."

She paused. "I wasn't even listening to the sermon, and I just felt like there was a weight pressing on me, too heavy to carry. I found my way out here, and suddenly I knew I had to change, to let go..."

I couldn't stay silent any more. "Sally," I said, the words forcing themselves from me, "you don't understand. I'm not what you think I am."

She smiled, shaking her head. "I know I've not seen much, not done much. But it doesn't matter, there's nothing you could do that would make..."

I shook my head. "I can't change what I am. And even if I could, there's my job to consider. My employers... Well, let's say you don't just walk away from them."

Sally looked up. "Amy... You don't really work for a government agency, do you?"

"No."

She reached for my hand. "There must be something we can do. You could go and stay with my aunt, she lives in an out-of-the-way place nobody's ever heard of."

I avoided her eyes. "Trust me, they're insanely good at finding things – and they never give up."

"What about the authorities? You must have... information, something they can use. They'd be able to protect you."

I was about to reply, when people started to spill from the church door, the service over.

Tim found us. "Are you OK, Amy?"

Sally glanced at him. "Dad, can we go out somewhere for lunch? We need to talk."

Tim nodded. "Sure."

We walked back to the house in silence, and Tim unlocked the car. Sally and I got into the back seat, and Tim started the engine.

"I know where we can go," he said. He set off out of town, turning off onto a narrow road leading up to the rocky edge overlooking the valley.

Tim concentrated on driving, slowing to avoid the sheep that strayed or lay sprawled onto the edge of the tarmac. We reached the top, and Tim continued on, the road dipping down again and winding into a steep, thickly-wooded valley.

Just before the road flattened out, Tim pulled into the car park beside a stone-built pub with an eagle on its sign.

"The food here is great," said Tim, "and it's out of the way, I thought that would suit us."

We got out of the car and went in, finding a table. "I can't promise cocktails," said Tim, "but what can I get you two to drink?"

"Just a shandy for me," said Sally.

"Amy?"

"Sure, the same," I said.

Tim went to the bar and Sally again took my hand. "You know you can trust Dad."

I nodded, reflecting on this strange human trait of placing trust in fallible people.

Tim returned with a tray. "Right, girls, two shandies."

He put our drinks on the table, then picked up his own glass. "A pint of decent real ale for me."

He sat down, and Sally glanced at me. "Go on, Amy."

I felt again the tinge of nausea I'd experienced in the church. I took a deep breath.

"Tim, everything I've told you till now has been a lie."

His eyes widened, but he didn't speak.

"I was sent here by the organisation I work for, and my target... was you."

I heard Sally gasp. "Why?"

"I don't know," I said truthfully. "I was just given my instructions."

Tim leaned forward. "What exactly were you supposed to do? Industrial espionage? Insider information for a hostile takeover?"

I shook my head. "Not the company. You."

"But why?" Tim repeated Sally's question.

"I wasn't told. But the ones I work for are very good at what they do. They specialise in making things... unpleasant, for anyone who crosses them."

I saw Tim shiver visibly. "I can't imagine what I could possibly have done to offend them."

He glanced at Sally, and I sensed that his first concern was for his daughter.

"Amy," he said, "listen to me. You're the only one who knows how any of this works. Will you help us? I know I'm asking you to put yourself in jeopardy."

I felt something change inside me, with a sense of nagging familiarity I didn't have time to explore. "Yes."

I saw Tim relax. "Well, we need to make plans. But let's get something to eat first?"

Sally picked up the menu. "Don't know about anyone else, but I really like the sound of the chef's special – look, beef ragout?"

Tim nodded. "Sounds good to me. Amy?"

"Sure."

Tim walked to the bar to order our food, and Sally turned to me. "Are you OK?"

I smiled wryly. "I don't think there's any going back from here."

Tim came back to the table. "About five minutes, she said."

He turned to me. "The first thing I need to understand is, how much time do we have? When will your superiors realise something's wrong?"

I thought for a moment. "This was a long-term assignment, but they don't trust anyone – I'm certain another operative will check up on me, but I have no idea how often."

Tim nodded. "Makes sense. So whatever we decide to do, it needs to be soon."

"Amy," Sally interjected, "you said they could find you wherever you went. Is there anywhere at all that's safer, where we could get some help or protection?"

I visualised the blue-green globe spinning in blackness, and the little strategic information I'd overheard before I came on this assignment.

"There are a few places," I said thoughtfully, "if we can reach one."

Tim took a deep breath. "Well, no sense in half measures. We should go back to the house, put together what we can, and get going."

He shook his head. "I'll have to dig into the savings – sorry, Sally, this is going to hurt your college fund."

I glanced at Sally. "Maybe not."

"What do you mean?" asked Tim.

"I have some... capabilities," I said carefully. "I can get us virtually anything we need in terms of money, travel, permits. The only way we could be held up is if we run into another operative."

"What happens then?" asked Tim.

I hesitated. "We'll have to hope for an act of God."

I braced myself for the scalding sensation I expected on saying that last word, but to my vast surprise there was only a moment's bitter taste, then nothing.

Tim looked at me incredulously. "That's it? Hope for a thunderbolt from heaven?"

I looked across the table. "I know Sally understands."

I turned to her. "Sally... This might be hard for you to grasp, but everything you've believed – it's more true than you could possibly imagine."

I saw the emotions chase across her face – fear, incredulity, hope. "Amy, tell me one thing."

"Ask away."

She glanced at Tim, then took a deep breath. "Those two guys at the club. You didn't really pull a gun on them, did you?"

I ignored Tim's startled look. "No. I showed them something. A glimpse of a reality they weren't prepared for."

Sally nodded. She turned to Tim. "Dad, I know you've got little reason to believe Amy, given what's happened. But I know you trust me."

Tim nodded slowly.

I heard the emotion in Sally's voice. "Please, try to believe this."

"OK," said Tim. "I'll give it a shot."

Sally got up from her seat and wrapped her arms round him. "Thanks, Dad. I just know that things'll happen along the way to convince you it's true, you'll see."

A waitress approached the table. "Sorry about the wait."

Tim smiled at her. "No problem."

We started to eat, and Sally said, "This is good – I see why this place has the reputation it does."

Tim sipped at his beer. "I suppose I'd better make the most of this – who knows where we'll end up."

When we'd finished our meal, Tim glanced around. "Well, we'd better get going." We walked back to the car, and Tim started the engine. "So, home first then."

We retraced our route to the house, and I followed Tim and Sally into the kitchen.

"So, Amy," began Tim. "What should we pack?"

I made a decision. "OK. Clothes for a hot climate, but a few warm things too. Sunscreen. If you have hats, pack those."

Sally managed a weak smile. "Great – I can work on my tan."

Tim stood up. "OK – I'll go and get the suitcases out."

He went up the stairs, and we heard a thump, then another as he pulled cases from a shelf.

"Right," he called down the stairs. "Better get cracking."

Sally and I went up, and Sally picked up the nearest case. "This is the one I always used to use when we went away."

She glanced at me. "You don't really have much stuff, do you, Amy?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about me."

We went into Sally's room, and she started to open drawers, piling clothes on the bed. "I'm definitely taking those two dresses we wore yesterday, and the black one."

I watched as she folded everything neatly, piling things into her case. She closed the lid, and put the case on the floor. I picked it up. "It's not that heavy."

Sally dabbed at her eyes. "It's not much to start a new life with. Do you think we'll come back?"

"I don't know." I felt a strange impulse, and reached out to touch her shoulder. "I'll do my best for you."

She put her hand on mine. "I know. Thanks, Amy."

Tim looked round the door. "Ready then?"

Sally glanced up. "OK, Dad."

We went down the stairs, and Tim said, "I assumed we'd being going to the airport, so I called a taxi."

I nodded. We heard the sound of a car pulling up outside, and Tim opened the door, taking our two cases outside.

The driver put the cases in the boot, and we got into the taxi.

"Airport, right?" asked the driver. "Do you have your flight number?"

Tim glanced at me, and I shook my head. "Just drop us at the international departure area."

"OK."

We set off, and Sally looked back at the house as we drove out of the gates, then looked away, a determined expression on her face.

The traffic was light, and we were soon pulling into the dropoff area at the airport. Sally found a trolley and we piled our cases on, then Tim pushed it through into the check-in area.

He stopped the trolley at a distance from the row of desks, looking up at the airline logos. "OK, Amy, you said you didn't need me. Time for you to do whatever it is you do."

I glanced at the departure board, then walked purposefully over to one of the booking desks. The young woman behind the desk looked up as I approached, her makeup emphasising her flawless skin and dark eyes.

"Hi, can I help you?"

I smiled, already reaching out to sense the thoughts passing over the surface of her mind. "I'm hoping you have three seats available on today's flight 18."

She glanced at her screen, and I saw the image in her mind of an empty row in the upper section of the aircraft.

She looked up. "We have three together in business class."

I nodded. "That'd be fantastic."

As she tapped in our details, I reached into her mind and adjusted just a few strands of thought, taking more care than I might have done previously. I saw her eyes lose focus momentarily, then she regained her concentration.

The printer on the desk whirred, and she handed me a sheet of paper. "Thank you – do enjoy your flight."

I walked back to Tim and Sally. "All sorted."

Tim looked at me with a puzzled smile. "If you say so."

I looked at the departure board. "We should check in."

I walked towards the check-in desks, and Sally grinned at me as I headed for the business class sign.

Tim handed me his passport and Sally's, and started to unload the cases onto the belt. I put the booking sheet and the two passports on the counter, and smiled at the young man behind the desk.

He picked up the documents, and again I briefly manipulated what he saw, convincing him that everything was in order.

He tagged the cases and printed our boarding passes. "Have a good flight."

We walked towards the "Passengers Only" sign, and Tim said, "I really have to see how you handle this, Amy."

"Actually," I grinned, "this will be the easiest part."

We walked through to the security area, and I approached the nearest uniformed officer. A quick touch of his mind, and he was immediately alert, his eyes looking at us keenly. "Follow me."

He led us to a door at one side, swiping his card and shielding one hand with the other as he entered a sequence of digits. We went through the door, finding ourselves in a featureless corridor. Our escort pointed. "Through the double doors at the end, you'll be in the departure area.

I followed him with my mind, and as he reached his station, I quickly blurred any memory of the last five minutes.

"Right," I said. "We have a little while before we have to board – Tim, how about you buy us a coffee and a Danish pastry each."

We found a coffee shop, and Sally and I sat down while Tim went to the counter.

Sally turned to me. "How did you really do all that?"

I paused. "Sally, it's not something I can easily describe, but I can show you."

She glanced across the table hesitantly. "OK."

I touched her hand, reaching out to her mind. I saw her eyes widen as she sensed my presence in her thoughts, and I withdrew again, making sure I left her mind undisturbed.

Tim returned carrying a tray. He glanced at Sally. "Are you OK?"

She nodded. "No problem, Dad."

I glanced at the tray. "Cinnamon whirl, apple Danish, pecan and maple. Reminds me of something..."

Sally grinned. "When Dad finds a formula, he sticks to it."

Tim sipped his coffee. "Are you going to tell us where we're going yet?"

I smiled. "Well, I can tell you the first stop – we'll be boarding in a moment anyway. We'll be flying to the Middle East, but that's only half way to our final destination."

Tim nodded. "Makes sense." We took our time over our pastries, and as Sally was running her finger over her plate to get the last crumbs, I glanced at the departures board.

"We can board now," I said.

When we reached the departure gate, I presented our boarding cards and we walked down the corridor toward the plane, Sally's heels clicking on the metal floor.

We reached the door, and the stewardess greeted us. "Welcome aboard." She directed us up a set of steps, and another attendant showed us to our seats.

Tim settled into his seat. "I could get used to this," he said, fastening his lap belt.

We heard the engines spin up, and Sally's face displayed a mixture of anticipation and fear. "This is the bit I don't really like."

The plane started to move, and she closed her eyes. I touched the surface of her mind, and I saw her smile. "Amy, I can feel you."

"I thought it might help," I said softly.

The note of the engines rose to a scream, and the plane hurtled down the runway, the nose finally lifting into the air.

Tim glanced at me. "Well, for better or worse, we're on our way." 



From Another Place Ch. 06



The plane reached cruising altitude, and the engine noise reduced. Sally opened her eyes. "Thanks, Amy."

Tim looked across at us. "Maybe sometime you'll tell me what's going on."

A stewardess approached us. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just apple juice for me, please," requested Sally.

"I'd love a glass of red wine," I said.

Tim thought for a moment. "I'll have a coffee – I'll stop at one so I can get some sleep later, though."

The stewardess served our drinks. "There'll be a meal in about half an hour, then we'll dim the lights. Of course you can use the headphones and watch a film if you'd prefer."

She moved away to serve the other passengers, and we sipped our drinks.

Tim looked at the screen in front of him. "The entertainment system looks pretty sophisticated."

He touched a control, and Sally suppressed a squeak as the screen switched to a live camera view from the tail of the aircraft, the curve of the earth clearly visible, the blue of the atmosphere fading to black.

"Actually it's beautiful," she said.

I nodded. "It is."

I thought back to the day all this was made, and the arguments about our response. Destroy it? Enslave this new race, this disgusting mixture of matter and spirit? Deceive them and twist them away from whatever idealistic purpose they'd been made for? In the end the decision was made: enslave where we could, enjoy their pain and the suffering; tempt and harass those who wouldn't yield; do everything in our power to make this pretty blue bauble self-destruct.

And it had all been going so well. On a large scale, wars, atrocities, genocide. The so-satisfying greed, injustice, the divide between the haves and the have-nots. Then murder, abuse, violence, the constant pleasing background of resentment, hatred, lust.

But then everything changed. At first it was just rumours – another young woman pregnant in dubious circumstances. So what? That usually turned out well – shame, rejection, another child with a shadow over his life. Then more rumours – stars, kings, predictions of an early death that would tear his mother's heart. A pogrom, infanticide, flight to a foreign country.

"Amy?" I heard Sally's voice calling me back to the present. "Have you decided what you want to eat?"

I glanced quickly at the menu. "Lamb sounds fine. Thanks, Sally."

I flipped the table down in front of me, and Sally passed me a tray. The food was good, and I savoured the spicy tastes. Sally tentatively sampled her couscous, and nodded. "This is OK."

We finished eating, and the stewardess took our trays. "Think I will try and sleep," said Tim. As the lights dimmed, he tilted his seat back and pulled the thin blanket over him.

"How about you?" I asked Sally.

She shook her head. "I know we're on the run, sort of, but I'm too excited. Here, put the camera view on my screen and the map on yours, and we can pretend this is the bridge of a spaceship or something."

I couldn't help smiling at her imagination. I touched the controls, and Sally traced the path of the plane on the screen with her finger. "So many countries."

We watched the track of our journey creeping across the map, and Sally turned to me.

"Amy, tell me a little more about where we're going."

I grinned. "Well, it's further east – we'll get another flight in Dubai. It'll be warm in the day, about twenty degrees, but at night it drops below ten, that's why you'll need more layers when the sun goes down."

I paused. "The place I'm taking us is beautiful, but the people really don't have much, they're struggling to survive."

I thought for a moment. "We thought that would make them an easy target, but somehow it's gone the other way. We don't know much about what's going on in there – it's hard for us to operate there now – but it seemed the obvious place to take you and your father."

Sally nodded. "So how do you know so much about this place?"

I hesitated. "Sally, if I tell you this, you'll know what I'm really capable of. I don't want you to hate me."

She shook her head. "That's in the past. I know you're changing. Tell me?"

"There was a young woman," I said. "She was engaged – her marriage was arranged for her, that's the custom there, and at first she was happy with her fiancé. But she started to have second thoughts, and she told him she wanted to break off the engagement. My assignment was to cause as much trouble for her as I could, and I went to him, caught him at the lowest point emotionally, turned his disappointment in on himself."

I looked up at Sally to watch her reaction. "He killed himself – took poison."

She shuddered. "And the young woman?"

"She was devastated. And I made it worse. His family blamed her, demanded compensation from her family for his death. That's the wreckage I left."

Sally was silent for a while, and I felt the emotions running through her mind.

She looked across at me. "Amy, would you... Would you do that again?"

I felt again the nausea I'd first experienced that morning in the church, and my mind flickered back over everything that had happened since I returned. Tim's generosity, his respect for boundaries despite my efforts to tempt him, his instant action to protect me in the canyon. But most of all Sally. Accepting me, forgiving me, despite the bad influence I'd been at school. The fun we'd had together at the spa, her trust in me as we went out to the club. And finally, how easily she dismissed my part in getting her into a very ugly situation.

I took a deep breath. "Sally, I have changed. I don't know what it means, I didn't even know it was possible, but you're right."

She put her hand on mine. "Of course. I knew something was happening – I told you, it happened to me just the same."

I felt something break inside me, and suddenly I knew I was free. I looked across at Sally. "You'll have to teach me again what it is to be good."

She nodded. "Of course, darling."

She yawned. "Sorry, Amy. What time is it back home?"

I glanced at the screen. "About eleven."

"I think I will have to try and sleep for a while after all," she said.

I nodded. "We still have about five hours."

We reclined our seats, and I helped Sally arrange the blanket over her. "Sleep tight," I said.

I turned my attention back to the map, watching the distance between us and our final destination decreasing. What would we find there? Would Tim and Sally really be safe? My thoughts occupied me as the plane flew on into the night.

***

The cabin lights brightened gradually, and I heard Tim stirring next to me. "Did you sleep OK?" I asked as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Sure," he said. "Is there much longer to go?"

"About an hour," I said. "They'll bring us another meal."

I saw the stewardess approaching, and touched Sally lightly on the shoulder. "Wha..." she managed. "Breakfast," I smiled.

She sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Strange dreams," she said indistinctly.

I helped her put her seat upright, and took trays from the stewardess, setting Sally's down for her.

Sally grinned, her face still sleepy. "My favourite cereal."

She poured milk, then listened to the crackling before starting to eat. The stewardess returned with coffee, and Sally drank gratefully. "I need something to wake me up."

We'd just finished our second cup of coffee when there was a soft chime, and the note of the engines changes. I looked across at Sally's face, her expression just a little anxious.

"It's OK," I said. "We're starting to descend."

Once more I reached out gently to soothe her mind, and her face relaxed. She glanced out of the window, and said, "Gosh, there's a lot of sand."

I nodded. "Keep watching, and you'll see some of the buildings – look, there's the Burj."

The plane touched down smoothly, coming to a halt at one of the gates. Tim glanced at me. "OK, over to you again, Amy."

We left the plane, and Sally's eyes widened as we reached the airport concourse. She took in the vaulted glass ceiling, the wide areas of polished stone flooring, the glittering shops. "Wow."

I looked around, spotting the airline booking desk off to one side. "You two find somewhere to sit – this won't take long." I returned to them after a few minutes. "All sorted. Our connecting flight is in about an hour, our luggage is ticketed on through."

Sally looked at Tim. "Dad, can Amy and I look at the shops?"

"Sure. Just keep an eye on the time."

Sally linked her arm through mine as we strolled round the shops, looking at the expensive items on offer.

"You said the people where we're going are poor," she said.

I nodded. "Most of them would never even have a chance to leave their village."

"Let's just get a coffee and sit," she said thoughtfully.

We found a coffee shop and Sally bought us drinks, then we sat down at a table overlooking the concourse.

Sally shook her head. "I still can hardly believe everything that's happened – not when I see all these people going about their ordinary lives, most of them with no idea of the sort of things you've shown me, Amy."

I nodded. "But there are plenty of prompts for them to look beyond."

We sat in silence for a while, sipping our coffee. Sally glanced at her watch, and said reluctantly, "We'd better find Dad. We'll be needing to board soon."

We walked back towards the gates, finding Tim reading a newspaper. He looked up as we approached. "Time to go?"

I nodded. We walked toward the gate, and again I presented our boarding cards. This time the plane was smaller, and I'd chosen first class for the extra legroom. As we found our seats, Sally grinned. "I could get used to travelling like this."

Tim glanced at her. "Depending what happens when we reach our destination, this might be our last flight for a long time."

She nodded, her face serious.

We were soon in the air, and again I brought up the map on the screen. I pointed to a relatively flat area between tall mountains and a river delta. "That's where we're heading."

"I love mountains," said Sally. "Will we see them?"

"On a clear day," I replied, "and it's not a long journey to the foothills."

Again the stewardess brought drinks and a meal, and Sally looked thoughtful. "I suppose this is lunch," she said, "though I've lost all sense of what time it really is."

"Try and get some more sleep," I said. "We have quite a distance to travel by road when we arrive."

She followed my advice, and again she and Tim slept while I watched the map screen. I looked out of the window, and felt something I thought I'd lost forever – a thrill at the beauty of the sunrise ahead of us, the light sparkling on the snow-capped tops of the mountains in the distance.

As we neared our destination, the plane started to descend, and Sally stirred. "Mm," she said, "I feel better for that. Is Dad still sleeping?"

I glanced at Tim. "Think so. Seems a shame to wake him up."

I touched Tim's shoulder, and he sat up. "Nearly there?"

I nodded. "Then I have to arrange our travel the rest of the way."

We watched the dusty green and brown landscape below us approaching, till finally the plane crossed the airport boundary and touched down. This time we disembarked directly onto the tarmac, walking down covered stairs. As Sally stepped onto the ground, she shaded her eyes with her hand. "Gosh, it's bright."

We followed the rest of the passengers over to the terminal building and waited at the carousel for our cases. Tim pulled them off the belt and onto the trolley he'd found.

"Right," he said, "which way?"

We walked towards the row of immigration desks, and I left the officer we passed with a vivid impression that all our papers were in order, visas checked and correctly stamped.

I spotted a foreign exchange desk, and glanced at Tim. "We need some local currency – just a few pounds' worth."

He reached into his pocket. "This is everything I've got."

I changed the money, and returned to him with a thick wad of local notes. "Trust me, this will go a long way."

Wide doors led out of the airport concourse into what seemed like total chaos, and Tim stopped. "How are we ever going to get through this?"

I grinned. "Don't worry." I opened my mind to the impressions around me, and soon caught a picture of a dusty four-by-four, large enough to carry the three of us and our luggage.

I reached into my memory, and approached the taxi driver, addressing him fluently in his own language. He looked up, surprised, and replied.

"This is perfect," I explained to Tim and Sally. "He can take us the whole way, and he knows the area where we're going."

The driver slipped through the crowd, and a few moments later reappeared behind the wheel of his vehicle. He quickly loaded our cases into the boot, and Sally and I got into the back, leaving Tim to take the passenger seat.

We set off, and I could tell Sally was trying not to be overwhelmed by the flood of impressions – the heat, the roads, the people and animals everywhere.

I took her hand. "Don't worry – we're leaving most of the chaos behind, it's much quieter where we're going."

"I'm OK," she said. "It's absolutely amazing."

We left the city behind, the potholed road passing between rows of makeshift shops, then out into the countryside, areas of forest alternating with carefully-irrigated fields.

"It's like this for several hours," I said. "I've asked our driver to stop in a couple of hours so we can get some water and something to eat, then when we get nearer, to take us somewhere we can get accommodation for the night."

The two hours seemed to fly by, and we pulled up at the side of a road overlooking a forested valley, with hills in the distance. A small wooden building stood off to one side, and I handed the driver some notes. He returned with bottles of water, packets of crisps, and a plate of freshly-sliced pineapple. I checked that the water was still sealed, then handed a bottle each to Tim and Sally. "Drink plenty."

We sat at a low wooden table in the shade of a parasol, and Sally drank, then took a slice of the fruit. "This is fantastic."

When we'd finished refreshing ourselves, we got back in the car and carried on. The sun was starting to set, and I checked with the driver that we could still reach our destination.

"He says it's no problem," I explained to Tim and Sally. "There's a jungle lodge close to where we're going – all the Western facilities we'll need."

Sally grinned. "I'm starting to feel as though I could use a hot shower."

"It has been a long journey," I agreed.

After another hour, the driver turned off the road, and we saw lights ahead shining through the dusk. He pulled up outside the lodge, and I paid him, adding what for him would be a generous tip.

We walked to the reception desk, and the manager looked up. "Can I help you?" he said.

"I'm hoping you have a room for us for tonight," I said.

"Suite, AC?" he asked.

I glanced at the tariff guide displayed on the board. "Sure."

He barked a command at the porters, and they took our luggage and vanished. Tim looked concerned, and I flashed him a reassuring smile. "Suite number two, overlooking the courtyard, at the top of the stairs," said the manager, handing me a key.

We followed his directions, finding the door already open and our luggage inside. I tipped the waiting porters, and they made the characteristic gesture of respect and left, smiling broadly.

Sally went in through the door, and we heard her exclamation of surprise. We followed her in, and I looked round the suite. The room was large, with two double beds, and a ceiling fan turned lazily. At the far end another door led to a private balcony, and to the left through an arch I saw a shower room.

Tim flicked the switch on the wall that activated the air conditioning, and I felt the cool air on my face. I sat on the nearer bed, testing the springs. "This'll do for Sally and me."

Tim lay down on the other bed, his hands behind his head. "You two can have first go at the shower."

Sally glanced at me. "Come with me, Amy? There could be spiders, or... or worse."

She opened her case, taking out her wash bag and the t-shirt she usually wore to bed, and I followed her into the shower room. We looked carefully around, but there was no sign of any creepy-crawlies.

Sally undressed, and turned on the water. She stepped under the shower, and began to wash. "Gosh, that feels better."

She rinsed shampoo out of her hair, and turned off the water. I handed her a large towel, and she wrapped it round herself. "Your turn."

I glanced across at her, and made the mental gesture that vanished my clothes.

She gasped. "I've never seen you do that before."

I shrugged. "Doesn't seem any point in pretending any more."

Sally looked thoughtful. "Might be better if you kept up appearances with Dad – I don't think he's quite ready for everything you can do."

I turned on the shower. "I think you have a point."

I washed quickly, getting the dust out of my hair, then Sally handed me a towel.

I dried, then raised my eyebrows at Sally. Suddenly I was wearing a long cotton nightshirt.

"Cooler in this climate," I said. She nodded, unwrapping her towel and pulling on her own t-shirt.

We walked back into the bedroom, and Tim glanced up. "Everything OK?"

Sally nodded. "Amy and I are ready for bed."

Tim stood up. "OK – I'll have a shower myself. I take it there weren't any spiders?"

"No – or any snakes," smiled Sally.

She turned back the bed and slid under the thin sheet. "Come on, Amy."

I slipped in beside her, and she wrapped her arms around me. "It feels really strange to be so far away from home." She paused. "Amy, do you... do you have a home?"

I didn't answer, and she tightened her arms. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Everything has changed so much, I don't even know where I belong any more."

She turned so that she was looking directly into my eyes. "I do. With us."

I sighed. "Let's get through this first, then maybe things will be clearer."



From Another Place Ch. 07



In the morning Sally woke, her arms still around me. The room was cooler, and she shivered.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

She stretched. "Pretty good, actually."

I glanced across the room. "You awake, Tim?"

"Mmmf," I heard.

"Come on," I said. "Breakfast first, then the last step of our journey."

Tim pulled clothes from his case. "I'll go in the shower room to change."

He disappeared, and Sally dressed quickly, in a long skirt and a cotton blouse. "Right, Amy, your turn."

I thought for a moment, then changed my long cotton nightshirt for an outfit like Sally's.

Tim reappeared in trousers and a shirt. "Will this be OK?"

I nodded. "Let's go."

We walked back down the stairs and into the dining room. "Sorry, Sally," I said, "no cereal today. But I think you'll enjoy what they have."

I walked to the kitchen door and spoke briefly to the cook. He nodded, and turned back to his work.

We found a table, and a waiter approached. "Coffee, tea?"

I turned to Tim and Sally. "Neither will be quite as you're used to, but I think you'll like them."

"I'll have coffee, please," requested Tim.

"Tea, please," said Sally. I nodded. "And for me."

He returned with our drinks, then went to the kitchen door. The cook handed him a tray, and he brought it to our table.

Sally looked at the plate that stood on the tray. "What are these?"

"A kind of flatbread, deep-fried – think of them as a sort of croissant."

I took one, and spread it with butter, then jam from a small pot, and Sally and Tim followed suit. Sally bit into hers, and smiled. "These are good."

I nodded. "The locals think it's crazy, eating them with butter and jam."

We finished our breakfast, and I went out to the reception desk to arrange transport. After a few minutes, a car appeared, and I wondered to myself if the battered vehicle was capable of making the journey.

We got in, and the driver set off, returning to the main road. We negotiated potholes for a few minutes, then turned off onto a track, bumping our way through stands of palm trees.

The road emerged into the open again, crossing a small stream. In the distance I saw the destination I'd been aiming for ever since we left home. Ahead of us was a high wall, painted a light yellow colour. The driver drew up by modern-looking glass doors, and we got out of the car. I paid him, and the car pulled away.

I turned to Tim. "This is it. If we're going to find any protection, it's here."

He nodded. "Whatever happens, Amy, I want to thank you. You've already taken a huge risk."

He turned, and took Sally's hand. "Come on."

We walked through the doors and into the reception area. The dark-haired girl behind the desk looked up, and for a moment I was tempted to reach for her mind, but I reminded myself that we needed the goodwill of these people.

Anyway, I reflected, for all I knew she had the power to resist even me. I honestly didn't know what these people were capable of.

Tim stepped forward. "Hello," he said. "Can we talk to whoever's in charge?"

She smiled. "Of course. Go through, someone will meet you."

We walked out into the sunlight. At the far end of the enclosed space, a group of children was playing a makeshift game of cricket, and from an open window I could hear the sound of singing.

A door opened, and I waited to see who – or what – would emerge to meet us.

From the relative dimness within stepped a tall figure, a man in his late forties or early fifties, wearing a black academic gown.

Tim took half a pace forward, about to speak, but I could see the man's eyes widen as he looked at me.

He turned to Tim, and spoke, his voice stern. "Do you not know what you have brought to us?"

He shook his head. "But then, perhaps you are her puppets, not responsible for your actions."

He shifted his attention to me. "You play a dangerous game, coming to us so openly. Tell me, for what purpose are you here? What can you hope to gain?"

I was silent for long moments, knowing that he knew me for what I was. Then I did the only thing I could think of to convey the change in me. I sank to my knees in front of him, heedless of the dusty ground, and bowed my head, resting my chin on my chest. 

I raised my head again, to see him shaking his head. He spoke under his breath, and I caught his words. "Do you not know that we will judge angels..."

He stretched out his hand, and I took it, getting to my feet.

He looked into my face. "What were you, in your proper sphere?"

My voice was steady as I answered. "A principality, my lord."

He made a dismissive gesture. "Don't call me that." He softened the rebuke with a smile, and turned to Tim.

"Please, forgive my harsh words. To the best of my knowledge, this is the first time that any of those who fell, has set foot on the path to redemption."

Tim shook his head. "I don't really understand much of this. My daughter Sally knows more than I do. I'm Tim, by the way."

"Welcome, Tim, Sally. I'm David Cook, though most people here call me Professor, I'm sure you can guess why."

The professor turned to me. "And how shall we call you?"

I smiled hesitantly. "To the family, I'm just Amy. Will that do?"

He nodded. "We can discuss your real name on another occasion – it may be needful."

He turned back to Tim. "Please, let me organise some refreshments, and you can tell me more of your story."

He led us past the building from which he'd come, and onto a shaded verandah. A young woman came from an inner room, and he spoke to her briefly in her own tongue. She nodded, and returned inside.

"Please, sit," indicated the professor.

When we were seated, he said, "While we wait, perhaps I should tell you a little of what we do here."

He indicated the children, now sitting in a circle around another young woman as she read to them. "We have the orphans, of course – their home is the building at the far end of the compound. And the school, over there. The training centre – that's my particular responsibility."

The young woman returned, carrying a tray with a jug of some kind of juice, glasses, and fruit. The professor nodded his thanks, and she left.

"Please," he said, spreading his hands, "refresh yourselves." We drank, and Sally picked up a piece of fruit.

"This smells very... unusual," she said.

The professor smiled. "Like a number of other things, it's something you either love or hate. Try it."

Sally took a tentative bite, and chewed slowly. Her doubt gradually changed to pleasure. "Actually, it's very good."

"So, Tim," said the professor briskly, "tell me how you come to be here, and how we can help."

Tim glanced at me, and began to tell the story from his point of view. When he came to the place where I confessed my secret identity, I could see the professor unsuccessfully trying to hide his amusement.

"Amy," he said, "I'm impressed by your creativity. I imagine Tim has all sorts of speculations running through his mind – the Mafia, Al-Qaeda, even one of Ian Fleming's arch-villains."

He turned back to Tim. "The truth is simpler, but I have to say infinitely more frightening."

I could see Sally nodding as the professor continued. "Perhaps the easiest way to introduce you to what's really happening is if I find you a copy of Paradise Lost."

He turned to Sally. "I'm sure there are things you want to add to your father's account."

She nodded vigorously. "I've seen Amy change – in a way it's like what happened to me."

She reached for my hand. "I don't understand everything, but I know Amy says we're in danger. Can you help us?"

The professor looked grave. "It's true that because of what's happening here, it's more difficult for Amy's former organisation to operate, but if they have a compelling reason, they can still bring influence to bear."

He paused, and I felt him come to a decision. "None of this is a coincidence. There must be some purpose behind it, something for good."

He looked at Tim. "I need to ask you to decide. You're welcome to stay here, but if we're to help you, you have to trust us, and submit to the outcome, whether or not you fully grasp what's happening."

Tim nodded. "I understand."

The professor stood. "In that case, let me go and make arrangements. I take it you were staying nearby last night?"

I nodded. "The jungle lodge."

"I'll arrange for your things to be fetched," said the professor. "Please, feel at home. The midday meal will be ready soon."

He stood, and walked across to the reception area, speaking to the young woman behind the desk. She nodded, and picked up the telephone.

He returned to us. "That'll be no problem. Let me show you to your rooms."

We followed him to the end of the verandah, where steps led up to the second storey of the building.

"When we built this, we added facilities for visitors," the professor explained. "It's fairly basic, but you'll have everything you need."

He pushed open a door, and we walked into a hallway. Ahead and to the right were bedrooms, and to the left was a shower room almost identical to the one at the lodge.

Sally glanced at Tim. "Can Amy and I have the one on the right?" she asked.

"Sure," Tim nodded.

"I'll leave you to settle in," said the professor. "You'll hear the bell for lunch, just come downstairs and I'll meet you."

Tim went through to his room, and Sally and I explored ours. There were windows on three sides, and a cool breeze blew through. From one window we could see out of the compound onto open fields, with forest in the distance. Here and there long-legged white birds stood, occasionally stabbing their beaks into small pools of water and retrieving insects or small frogs.

Sally turned to me. "This is an amazing place. Whatever happens, I'm glad we came. Thanks, Amy."

As she gave me a hug, there was the sound of a bell from outside.

"That must be lunch," she said.

We went back down, finding Tim talking to the professor on the verandah. We followed them inside, finding a large table already laid with covered dishes. Three young women sat at one side of the table, talking animatedly to one another in the local language. They fell silent as we entered, and the professor turned to us.

"Let me introduce you to some of the other members of the team."

He indicated the three young women in turn. "Akuti, Neela, Taruni. They do most of the work around here – looking after the children, cooking, taking care of guests, greeting visitors."

We sat down at the table, and the professor put his hands together and spoke a brief grace in the local tongue.

"Now," he said, "try a few of these things – we always make sure there are some dishes that are a little less spicy, in case visitors do come, and Neela will remember anything you particularly like."

We started to eat, and I saw Tim nodding appreciatively. "This is good."

"Are you OK, Sally?" I asked. "I know you're not great with really spicy food."

She smiled. "Sure. Generally I can tell from the colour how hot things are going to be."

Akuti spoke, and the professor nodded.

"The rest of the team will be back later," he explained. "They're usually out most of the day travelling round the villages. We'll all get together after the evening meal and we can look for guidance on what our next steps should be."

When we'd finished eating, the professor said, "Your cases should have arrived from the lodge."

We walked back to the reception area, finding our cases waiting for us. Tim glanced at them. "I'll take these upstairs. Why don't you two go and meet the children?" Sally and I walked to the far end of the compound, where Akuti was teaching the children a song. We listened for a while, and Sally tentatively began to imitate the simple chorus, mimicking the actions. The children started to giggle, and Akuti smiled. "You teach them?"

Sally grinned, and we spent a happy time working through "Row, row, row your boat," then "The wheels on the bus," and "Hickory Dickory Dock."

Akuti glanced up. "Time for the children to have a drink."

The children obediently trooped back to the main building, and we followed them. Neela was waiting with jugs of squash, and we drank with the children, even getting a biscuit each.

"OK, time for a nap," said Akuti, and the children made their way back to their own building with her.

She returned from settling the children, and I saw Taruni walking from the reception area. I felt the anticipation in their minds, and I turned to Sally. "You might find what happens next... unusual."

I didn't tell her of my own apprehensions – whether I'd changed sufficiently to be able to bear these young women entering into the presence of the being I'd learned to hate and fear above all.

The three sat down, including us in their circle, and each of them put their hands, palms up, in their lap. Neela began to speak softly in her own tongue, and as soon as the first syllable left her lips the atmosphere changed. But instead of the condemnation I'd feared, I felt only acceptance, love, infinite compassion.

I felt Sally's hand on mine. "It's OK, Amy."

The young women spoke in turn, then fell silent, only their lips moving. I felt the sensation of a great weight moving, lifting from me, a door opening, light pouring from it.

Taruni opened her eyes, and smiled at us. "Enough for now – more later when everyone's here."

She stood gracefully, and returned to the reception area, while Akuti went to see to the children.

Neela smiled. "Time to start cooking – you come?"

We followed her into a kitchen area, two wood fires burning, each sending a thread of smoke through a vent in the roof.

"Please, sit," Neela invited, pulling two low wooden stools from nails on the wall.

We sat down, and watched Neela moving around the kitchen, preparing vegetables, filling a large pot with rice and adding water.

She glanced at us, and smiling, took some of the peeled potatoes and quickly grated them. She formed them into flat cakes and put them into a pan over the flames, the oil sizzling. We watched fascinated as she turned the cakes over and over, then slid them onto a plate.

"Eat," she smiled, holding the plate out to us.

Sally took a cake, moving it from hand to hand and blowing on it, then carefully took a small bite. "Mm, delicious."

I took one myself and nodded. "They're good."

Neela continued her work as we ate the snacks she'd prepared for us, and after a few minutes we heard voices outside. Neela glanced up. "Everyone's home," she said.

Sally and I stood. "Thanks for the snacks," Sally said.

We went outside, and found Tim with the professor.

"Let me introduce you to Amrit and Anjali," the professor said.

The young woman turned, and I felt everything I thought I'd left behind come crashing back on me.



From Another Place Ch. 08



Sally glanced at me, seeing the look on my face. "Amy, are you OK?"

I shook my head. "Later." Sally squeezed my hand reassuringly.

"Anjali and Amrit run the centre, oversee the work in this area," explained the professor. "I've told them about Amy."

I heard the sound of the bell, and Amrit smiled. "Time we all had something to eat," he said.

We went through into the dining room, the assembled company now taking up all but one of the seats at the table.

This time Amrit gave the grace, and we started to eat.

When the meal was over, Amrit stood. "Let's go over to the conference room and talk."

We walked across to the training centre, and Amrit led us to a large room with a conference table in the centre. "Please, sit," he invited.

I glanced sideways at Anjali. She had no way of knowing that I was the one who had brought so much pain into her life, but I still felt uncomfortable.

Amrit began. "So, Amy. The professor has explained how the three of you come to be here, and I accept his judgement that you yourself are no longer entirely what I'd have taken you to be."

I was desperate to ask him how he and the professor could discern my true nature, but I kept silent, nodding in reply.

"So there's only one question. What's likely to happen next?"

I thought for a moment. "It won't take them long to realise we're gone from Tim's home, and to follow our tracks. I'd expect them to use whatever influence remains to them here, to confront you."

"What will their objective be?"

I hesitated. "Certainly they'll want to punish me. Apart from that, they will simply want to do as much harm as possible to everyone here, stopping at nothing."

The professor nodded. "The thief comes only to steal, and kill, and destroy."

Anjali spoke for the first time, her voice clear, quiet, with an undertone of peace and contentment that shook me to my core. What had happened to the broken girl I'd left staring blankly at her bedroom wall, her arms wrapped around herself in some vain attempt at protection, comfort?

"There's no need to be afraid," she said. Again I felt what seemed like a hammer blow, hearing the words that would have been mine, if only I hadn't let myself be drawn away, bent beyond all recognition from the purpose for which I'd been created.

"We don't need to fear," she repeated. "You know what was done to save me."

With those words, she bent her head briefly in a gesture of acknowledgment to the professor. "And we always remember."

I resolved to ask the professor as soon as I had the chance, what Anjali's words meant.

Amrit nodded. "You're right. We should let our guests sleep, while we make the preparations we can."

He turned to me. "Amy, I assume you won't be sleeping."

I shook my head. "But I'd like to stay as close to Tim and Sally as I can."

He nodded. "As you wish."

Tim got up from the table. "We'll leave you, then."

Sally and I followed him back to the main building and up the stairs. Tim wished us goodnight, and we went into our room.

We quickly got ready for bed, and Sally slid in beside me under the thin cotton sheet.

She turned to face me. "Amy?"

"Mm?"

"Anjali is the girl you talked about on the plane, isn't she."

I nodded. "I need to know what happened afterwards. I need to know how she was saved, as she put it."

Sally smiled. "I think you have more idea than you know. In a way it's like what's been happening to you – there's a way back for everyone, whether it's from your own rebellion, or hurt inflicted by someone else."

From downstairs we heard the faint sound of voices speaking in turn, and I felt an unmistakable echo of the love and compassion I'd experienced as we sat with the three young women that afternoon.

Sally settled more comfortably beside me, and I watched as her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

I stretched out my senses, seeing Tim already asleep in the next room. I skirted the downstairs room where our hosts sat, feeling a reluctance to intrude. The children slept peacefully in their own place, and I could find no sign of any other presence or influence within the walls of the centre or approaching it. But I remained vigilant.

In the morning, Sally stirred, opening her eyes and smiling at me. "I slept really well," she said. "It just seems so peaceful here."

I returned her smile. "I'm glad. It seems too quiet to me – I can't help wondering what's coming."

We didn't have long to wait. As we were finishing breakfast, Taruni walked in, her face clearly signaling her concern.

"The police are here."

Amrit and Anjali got up from the table, and I followed them in my mind's eye. As they reached the reception area, a large man in a crumpled uniform looked up. Nearby, two of his subordinates lounged, their faces showing calculated contempt.

"I always knew we'd catch you out," he began. "The orphans – well, who cares about a couple of kids, stops them begging. I always made it clear I was against allowing your training centre, clearly a cover for some kind of subversion, and run by a foreigner at that.

"But this time you've gone too far. Three more foreigners, with no real evidence that they're entitled to be here. One of them some kind of criminal – we're waiting for confirmation from headquarters exactly what charges she's wanted on."

He smiled coldly. "So now we have every reason to close you down – hand over the foreigners to whoever's sent for them, detain the rest of you. I don't see any reason why you should get special treatment, we'll put you in the cells with the other scum."

It was clear that he and his men were only puppets – albeit willing ones – and I searched for the presence of one like me.

I didn't have to look far. In an official car, parked behind the police vehicle, sat a figure – outwardly female, but to my senses not remotely human. I veered away, but I knew she was aware of my scrutiny.

I was dimly conscious that at the breakfast table, there was a palpable feeling of power in the air, and I turned my attention again to the scene in the reception area.

"Please," said Amrit, "by all means invite your superior officer to join us."

Again I wondered how he could know. The senior policeman was clearly taken aback, but gestured curtly to one of his subordinates, who walked back out to the road and leaned cautiously over to the window of the car.

The door opened, and she stepped out of the car, ignoring the junior officer as he scrambled to keep up with her. She faced Amrit and Anjali.

Amrit began to speak, and I waited to see how he would confront her. But instead of a challenge, or even a defence, his words were quiet, as if he spoke only to himself.

"Even the archangel Michael, when he was disputing with the devil about the body of Moses, did not himself dare to condemn him for slander but said: The Lord rebuke you!"

Suddenly the atmosphere changed. I felt a suffocating presence, as though I was struggling to breathe, but the sensation quickly passed.

I saw Amrit's accuser clutch at her throat, her face a mixture of shock, anger, frustration. She tried to speak, but no words came. She turned, stumbling out of the door toward her car. Her lieutenants followed her, but she ignored them as she wrenched open the car door and threw herself in, gesturing curtly to the driver to move off.

Amrit relaxed visibly, and he and Anjali rejoined us at the table.

"Our accusers will think twice before returning," Amrit said. He looked round the table. "I think this calls for a celebration."

Akuti spoke. "The children haven't had the chance to greet our guests properly."

Anjali nodded. "That's a great idea."

Akuti got up from the table, and we watched her walk over to the children's building and go in through the door. When she emerged, the children were following her, each one carrying something.

As they approached us, I saw that each child held a garland of flowers, and Akuti smiled. "If you'd like to stand up..."

Tim, Sally and I stood, and each of us received a garland. The children lined up, and at a nod from Akuti, they began to sing, accompanying their words with actions.

When they finished their song, we clapped enthusiastically. "Well done," smiled Akuti. "Now, children, please go back to your rooms to tidy up, and I'll be over in a little while for class."

"Now," said Amrit, glancing at Tim. "We should talk about your plans. It seems obvious that you should remain with us for your own protection."

Tim nodded. "I'm going to need your help. I can get in touch with my brother to ask him to handle things at home – sending on more of our things, clearing the house, putting it up for sale. But he'll need to send documents for me to sign, that sort of thing."

He turned to Sally. "I'm sorry, darling – this will mess up everything for you at college."

Taruni spoke. "I know the principal at the university here. I can arrange for Sally to meet him, go through her studies so far. I'm sure he'll allow her full credit, and she'll be able to carry on here."

I glanced across, seeing tears in Sally's eyes. "Thanks," she managed.

Amrit look at me. "And Amy. I think you still have some way to go on the path that's been prepared for you."

Sally looked alarmed. "Amy has to leave?"

Amrit shook his head, smiling. "No, I think Amy's journey lies inside her now."

I nodded. "I'm going to need a lot of help."

I turned to Anjali. "You need to know that I –"

She held up a hand to stop me, smiling. "I know. It will be part of your journey – and mine too – for me to tell you how grace came to me."

As she spoke, the room seemed to fill with an irresistible scent, like the freshest of apples, the clean smell of a pine wood, newly mown grass.

I saw Sally's nostrils flare, and Tim looked around, searching for the source.

Amrit smiled. "Another sign we've come to associate with the presence that protects us here."

The scent faded, and Tim shook his head. "I can see I have a lot to learn."

The professor spoke for the first time, amusement clearly evident in his voice. "Amy, I can think of a role for you here. The students will be returning for their classes soon, and I can't think of anyone better qualified than you to teach on... Well, on things we've only read about, but you were there."

I nodded thoughtfully. "You have to remember, for most of the time I was on the wrong side. A lot of what I was told was lies, propaganda."

The professor's smile broadened. "Even better. You can talk about how the lies were supposed to work."

He glanced around. "I'm sure I had a copy of the Screwtape Letters somewhere..."

***

And so it turned out. Tim's house was sold, and Tim gave Amrit part of the money to buy land, extending the centre. Amrit built in the extra space, giving Tim a place of his own, and in the same building creating a self-contained flat for Sally and me to share. Sally got into the college as Taruni had expected, and I soon discovered that the professor was right – the courses I taught were always oversubscribed.

I noticed, though, that Amrit was still worried. He succeeded in keeping his concerns from Tim and Sally, but I could still read his thoughts.

One day when Tim and Sally were elsewhere, I found him during the coffee break. "I know something's bothering you, Amrit."

He nodded. "I don't need to tell you that our adversaries will use truth as well as lies when it suits them. It's true that the three of you don't have any valid residence papers – I know how you got through the border controls when you arrived."

This time it was my turn to try out my growing belief in the power that had brought us all to this point. "Have faith, Amrit."

We didn't have to wait long. A few days later, Sally and I were sitting on the verandah, and we heard Amrit's car arriving. He and Tim walked through the reception area, but our attention was diverted from them by the young woman accompanying them. She seemed a few years older than Sally, and I detected an air of sadness in her thoughts, a sense of loss almost but not quite accepted.

Tim approached us, hesitation evident on his face. "Girls, I want you to meet Sushanti..."