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Soul to Soul

By: Moondrift



"Oh, how nice to see you here," said a female voice.

I looked round in surprise to see a woman apparently pinned against the wall by a leering young guy dressed like a derelict gypsy.

I was at an art preview and had I been wandering around somewhat apathetically with a glass of lousy champagne in my hand. I was only there because a friend of mine, Ted, was exhibiting, and the works on display were of about the same quality as the champagne. I was wondering what I could say to him that wouldn't sound too unpleasant. 

The woman had a desperate look in her eyes that seemed to say, "Please rescue me."

I thought I knew her, but couldn't think from where or why.

Understanding her plight I plunged in and said heartily, "Hello, I didn't expect to see you here. I'm just going to take a look in number three gallery, have you been there yet?"

"No...no, I have not."

"Let's go and take a look together," I replied, not knowing what else to say.

The young gypsy look-alike man glared poison at me, and then saying to the woman, "I'll catch up with you later, sweetheart," he wandered off.

The woman, with a look of overwhelming relief said, "Thank you for rescuing me. I did not want to be rude to him or make a fuss in public, but his breath was terrible and he wanted to escort me home. He was suggesting that we could get together for what he called 'some conviviality'."

"Glad I could be of use," I replied. "We have seen each other before, haven't we?"

"Yes, we are neighbours."

"Ah, of course."

I had only just moved into one of the new houses they were building adjacent to the city centre in an attempt to bring back people in to the CBD. They were really quite luxurious places but semi-detached. Since they had only just been completed all of us living in what was called, "The Close," were strangers, but I did recall seeing the woman a couple of times.

Trying not to make it too obvious I took an inventory of her. About five feet six in height, she looked around forty and, unlike most of the people at the preview, was dressed rather simply in a soft grey dress that covered her from neck to knee. Most of the females at the preview seemed bent upon displaying as much of their mammary glands as possible, but this dress gave only a hint of softly rounded breasts and a well proportioned figure. 

Her dark hair was cut straight at near shoulder length; her dark eyes were startling in their brilliance and her face had a classical appearance, rather like one of those Greek goddesses.

"Were you really going to the number three gallery?" she asked. 

I laughed and said, "No, I've already been there; I could see you needed rescuing so I said the first thing that came into my head."

"You were very kind. I do not like to be rude, but another minute and I would have had to say something nasty, he was so insistent."

She had a beautifully modulated voice but her careful pronunciation suggested that English was not her native language.

"We are neighbours," she went on, "but we do not know each other's names. I am Elizabeta Imra, but here I call myself Elizabeth."

"Andrew Davies," I responded.

She extended a small hand to me and when I took it I found her grasp surprisingly firm and warm. 

By some unspoken mutual consent we continued to chat and I could see the rag bag young man had already found himself another victim, an apparently more willing one. The girl, with naked breasts virtually hanging over the top of her dress, was pinned against another wall chattering and giggling while the young man stroked her thigh.

"What do you think of the paintings," Elizabeth was asking." 

I made a grimace.

'Yes, they are not very fine," She said. "Do you wish to stay?"

"No, in fact I was about to go home."

"I also; would you be so kind as to escort me?"

This had me a bit taken aback. The formal way of making her request was rather quaint and touching, but when I'd met Anne for the first time it was me who had done the asking.

"I...er...yes, if you'd like me to."

"Yes, I like; I do not think you would want conviviality...I do not know that word, what is conviviality?"

"Well it means...er...warmth, friendliness, but I don't think the young man meant it quite like that."

"No, I also think. He tried to touch me here," she said, briefly laying a hand on her breast.

Not knowing how to respond to that I simply said, "Shall we go then?"

"Yes, we go, thank you."

As we left I saw and could not avoid Ted, my friend who was exhibiting. I'd hoped to delay the moment when he would ask for my comments about his work. 

He was surrounded by a gaggle of young females. I am not sure that it was his paintings that had drawn these young women to him. It was more likely that his allure resided in his good looks and, being somewhat cynical, I thought, "Also his money." He had been left rather well off by his now dead but once doting parents.

Breasts seemed to be in vogue, and I suppose I am old fashioned, but I prefer a bit more concealment. It's not that I have any objection to breasts, Anne had very desirable breasts, but they had been for my eyes and touch only. I was glad that I was escorting someone who seemed to take the same attitude as Anne concerning public breast exposure. 

Ted spotted me, and momentarily disengaging himself from his admirers came toward me and asked, "Well, what did you think?"

I'm rather proud of the response I made on the spur of the moment. 

"Ted, you've really done it this time."

He looked very pleased, and in a display of false modesty said, "Oh, do you really think so?"

"Yes, of course I do." Fortunately he did not ask me what I actually thought he had done.

Elizabeth had gone a little ahead of me and Ted grinned and muttered something about, "You're flying a bit high there old boy."

Wondering what he meant I was about to ask, but one of the girls had drawn him away saying, "We're not going to let you desert us."

I caught up with Elizabeth and we made our way outside.

Our houses were only ten minutes walk from the gallery and neither of us had bothered to use our cars. As we walked along I asked, "What brought you to the gallery, were you an invited guest?" 

"No, I just saw the advertisement in the newspaper about the exhibition, so I went along. I thought I might see something I would like for my house." 

She gave a throaty laugh and went on, "I did not read the date correctly. I did not realise that tonight was for preview guests only and they did not at first want to let me in, but then the man at the door changed his mind and said he thought it would be all right as long as I did not tell anyone. I think he was the owner of the gallery and he hoped I might buy something and he would get his...what is the word?"

"Cut, I think you mean, or percentage."

"Yes; I did not buy, and you?"

"No, I didn't really intend to anyway, I went along because my friend Ted who's exhibiting invited me."

"The man with all the girls?"

"Yes, that's Ted."

"A very handsome man, but not a good artist I think."

We had entered The Close and Elizabeth's house was the first one we came to.

We stopped and she said, "You have been most kind to escort me. I was a little afraid the young man with the bad breath might try to follow me home, but I think not because he seemed to be having conviviality with a young lady."

Somewhat formally I said, "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Elizabeth, I hope we shall talk again soon."

"Yes, you are kind, thank you."

"Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"Goodnight, Andrew."

I started to walk towards my front door, but Elizabeth called after me, "Andrew."

I turned, "Yes?"

"It is still early; would you like to join me for a drink?"

"You mean, in your place?"

"Yes...oh, am I being too presumptuous; you think I am..." she was struggling to find the right word. "You think I am too...too bold?"

I smiled and replied, "No I don't think you're being too bold or presumptuous. None of us in The Close know each other yet, so I suppose we need to make a start."

"I have some very fine wine; it will take away the taste of that terrible champagne."

There was something almost poignantly ingenuous about her and for the first time since Anne I found myself being drawn to a woman. 

The house was identical to mine only other way round. They were two story places, and apart from the small entrance hall (referred to by the agent who sold me the place as "The Reception Area"), there was a lounge, dining room, kitchen and laundry, plus a toilet. In addition there was a small room that the agent had called, "A rumpus room," although given its size I didn't think you could kick up much of a rumpus in it. Upstairs were two bedrooms, a bathroom and shower plus another toilet; really an ideal place for people living on their own.

I've sometimes wondered about the superfluity of toilets people demand these days. In some houses with no more than four or five people living in them there are three and even four toilets. The impression is that people spend a great deal of time urinating and defecating. 

We went into the lounge and I was struck by the elegant simplicity of the furnishing. Upholstered in golden brown were three armchairs and a rather comfortable looking sofa. A coffee table in walnut stood in front of the sofa, and in one corner was a plant stand, also in walnut, with a somewhat voracious looking plant in a pot. It was to a cabinet, again in walnut, that Elizabeth went, and pulling down a flap revealed a mini-bar.

"You will sit, Andrew?" she asked. I sat in an armchair and she indicated the walls and said, "You see why I went to the exhibition."

There were no pictures.

She sighed and went on, "I shall have to look elsewhere for what I want, yes?"

"Yes, I suppose you will."

"You like wine?"

"Yes."

"I do have whisky, gin, vodka and..."

"Wine with be fine."

She poured two glasses and handed me one and then sat opposite me. Raising her glass she said, "I drink to our future as neighbours."

"Our future as neighbours," I responded.

We drank. 

"May I ask you about yourself, Andrew? – I am not too bold again?"

"No, not too bold," I laughed, "What would you like to know?"

"You do work?"

"I'm a road traffic engineer."

"That is good...er...interesting?"

I smiled and said, "It can get a bit complicated at times, trying to balance everybody's demands, but yes, it's interesting; and you?"

"I have recently opened a small boutique dress shop."

"Is it going well?"

"It is only beginning and it will take time. You see, I sell Ruthvenia designs."

"Ruthvenia designs?" I asked, puzzled. 

"Ah, you are like many people in this country, you have never heard of Ruthvenia."

"No, you must tell me about it."

"Perhaps some other time, Andrew, but this I will tell you, Ruthvenia has many dress designers and so I open a shop here to see if I can sell some of their designs."

"Expensive?"

"I do not know how to say it properly." She thought for a moment then suddenly she glanced at me, laughed and said, "You know roads, so if I say my prices are middle of the road, you understand?"

"Yes, not too dear and not too cheap."

"Yes, that is right. You must come and see. I look at your roads so you come and look at my shop."

I laughed and said, "I can come and look at it, but don't expect me to buy anything."

"Ah, there is no lady that you can buy for?"

That touched a raw nerve but I said, "No...there is no one to buy for."

"Such a pity. You are a nice man and..." She stopped and then continued in a solemn tone of voice, "I have said something that I should not and I see by your face you are pained; I am sorry Andrew."

"That's all right," I muttered; and trying to change the subject said, "This is excellent wine.

"Yes, that is one of the things you do well in this country, make wine."

"How long have you been in this here?"

"A little more than twelve months."

"And you like it?"

"Yes, but it can be lonely at first; but now I know you and we can talk sometimes, yes?"

"Yes, I'd like that, Elizabeth."

I could not understand why such a pleasant and attractive woman should be lonely. If I was enjoying getting to know her, then there must be plenty of others who would delight in her innocently direct manner. 

I finished the wine, and when offered a refill I said, "Better not, work in the morning, so I should be going."

She accompanied me to the front door and there offered me her hand. As I took it she said, "I am glad we are neighbours, Andrew, and...and if I sometimes say things not correctly, you will forgive me?"

"You say things beautifully, Elizabeth," I replied, "so there's nothing to forgive, and I am glad we are neighbours; goodnight."

"Goodnight Andrew."

I released her hand and went to my house thoughtfully. 

I didn't see Elizabeth until the next weekend. In the meantime there were some things that puzzled me about her. Perhaps not directly connected with her was, "Where the hell is Ruthvenia?"

I looked it up in the index of an atlas, and after some searching found it to be little more than a dot on the map. The other puzzle was why she seemed to draw back from telling me about it.

The next thing was, what was a lovely woman of her age doing living alone? I suppose it could be pointed out that I was about the same age as her and also lived alone.

I wondered if she had a lover, male or female, but I had never seen anyone coming or going from her house. I decided it was not any of my business whether or not she had a bedtime companion, and tried to get rid of the thought.

It wasn't until the next Saturday afternoon that I saw her again. The houses had brick paved courtyards at the back. On three sides were brick, earth filled troughs. These were intended to be planted with flowers or small shrubs, and I was examining them as I tried to make up my mind what to put in them.

There was a high brush fence dividing my courtyard from Elizabeth's. Suddenly Elizabeth's head appeared over the top of the fence.

"Good afternoon, Andrew, I heard you moving around."

"Good afternoon, Elizabeth." 

Referring to her appearance over the fence I said, "You must have grown a couple of feet since I last saw you."

She laughed, "Ah, no, I am standing on a chair."

A sudden wave of panic lanced through me. 

"No don't...get down Elizabeth...please get down, it's not safe."

"It's perfectly all right, Andrew, I will not fall."

"Please...please...you don't realise how... I've got a step ladder, I'll get it and I can talk to you over the fence."

"You are distressed Andrew, I am sorry, I shall get down."

I got the step ladder and placed it near the fence and climbed up until I could see into Elizabeth's courtyard. She stood there looking up at me.

"It was kind of you worry about me, but I was perfectly safe."

"Yes, perhaps, but it made me think...something happened once...I don't want it happening to you."

She let the matter pass and said, "I was wondering what to plant and I thought you might be able to help me."

"I was wondering about that myself. You don't want anything that's too big. I was thinking of going to the plant nursery to see what they've got."

"Could we go together, Andrew?"

"Yes, they're open on Saturday afternoons." 

I had seen her small dark blue car, so I said, "It might be better if we used my car. If we buy any plants they'd fit better in mine."

"Yes...yes," she said eagerly, "I will come to your door now."

I got down from the ladder went inside, and picking up my wallet headed to the carport. As I backed out Elizabeth was waiting for me. She got in beside me and off we went.

We spent about and hour wandering round the nursery and asking the staff what they recommended. I think we both ended up with more plants than we'd intended to buy, and the car was like a forest as we drove back.

I helped unload Elizabeth's purchases and then my own. It was starting to get dark, so more action had to wait until Sunday.

Sunday turned out to be a bit more surprising than I'd anticipated. Over the fence I could hear Elizabeth working away while I settled my own plants. In the midst of this Ted, the artist, arrived.

I dreaded that he might be going to ask me about the exhibition, but his real intention was to pass on what he thought was some exciting information.

Ted was one of those people who like to drag out their gossip, hoping to keep the hearer in suspense.

"Well you're a crafty one, " he began. 

"Am I, in what way?"

"Pretending to be mister nice guy; the grieving widower and all that." 

"Cut that out Ted, I won't have you..." 

"Okay, okay, but that bird you were hanging around with at the exhibition..." 

"If you mean Elizabeth, then keep your bloody voice down Ted, she's just over that fence." 

"Sorry, sorry," he whispered, "she's you neighbour, is she?"

"Yes, and I intend to remain neighbourly with her, so don't you start criticising her, she's a very nice person."

"Yes...yes...no doubt she is," he said with an unpleasant leer on his face. "Mixing with the upper crust these days, are you?"

"Ted," I said in an exasperated voice, "If you've got something to say, just say it, I'm busy."

"You don't know who she is, do you?"

"She's Elizabeth Imra, she's from Ruthvenia, she hasn't been here long and she's a thoroughly nice lady, and I bet you've never heard of Ruthvenia."

"No doubt she is a nice lady, he grinned, and a bloody good looking one, and yes, I have heard of Ruthvenia."

"When did you here of it."

"The evening you were at the exhibition, and you don't know who she is, do you?"

"I told you she's..."

"Ah yes, but has she told you all, dear boy. For example, her real name is Elizabeta and..."

"She told me that."

"She may have, but do you realise you're mingling with royalty?"

"Go away Ted, I haven't got time to listen to this garbage."

"But its true, Andrew, I swear it. There was a guy from the Immigration Department at the exhibition, and he told me...he recognised her because there was a bit of a fuss about her coming here. I wanted to talk to her but the girls...you know; and the next thing the two of you had cleared off."

"You clear off as well, Ted, I want to start planting." 

"All right I'm going. I only came here to tell you in case you didn't know..."

He paused, and then portentously went on, "She's the Crown Princess of Ruthvenia."

"What? Oh don't talk rubbish."

"She is, I swear it. Better mind your manners or it'll be 'Off with his head.'"

"I don't believe you Ted, and in any case, what's a Crown Princess doing here?"

"Okay, you don't believe, then ask her. I just came here to tip you off that you may be stepping outside your league."

"I'm not stepping inside or outside anything Ted; she's just a very nice neighbour, and that's how I intend to keep it, so go away. I'll have a drink with you some time soon, but I'm still trying to get things in order around here, okay."

He bowed mockingly and said, "Yes, your highness," and left.

Hoping that Elizabeth hadn't heard any of that I got back to planting shrubs, but unfortunately Ted had also done some planting. 

You know how it is? Some one tells you something, and even if you want to forget it, it still keeps milling around in your head. That's how it was with Ted's information.

The worrying thing was that he'd got some things right, like the country and the name. He must have been truthful about the immigration guy because how else would he know about those things?

Thinking it over, Elizabeth was a bit different, but not, I thought, in a princess way. And if she was a princess what was she doing living in a semi-detached house in a less than famous city like ours? 


Soul to Soul



No, it was too ridiculous, and I certainly wasn't going to ask Elizabeth about it. Ted was just embroidering a bit of information he'd got in order to set me up.

I got on with my planting, resolved to forget the whole thing. 

I didn't see Elizabeth again until the next weekend. We took another trip together to the plant nursery because what we'd bought the previous weekend hadn't gone as far as we had hoped. 

I must admit that I did look at her with considerable interest, trying to detect if there were any signs of royal demeanour. But then, I didn't really know what that would look like. She wasn't haughty, disdainful or remote; she was just exceptionally pleasant Elizabeth. 

But Ted's bit of planting had its effects. I won't make any pretence; before Ted's story I had been mildly attracted to Elizabeth. Nothing wildly passionate – I wasn't ready for that yet – but she was good to look at. 

Now I found myself backing off from even that mild attraction, and becoming more formal in my manner than my admittedly usual rather conventional style.

Elizabeth seemed to detect something in my manner and she asked, "Is there something wrong, Andrew?"

"No, why?"

"You seem a little distant. Have I said or done something to upset you?"

"No...no...it's just...oh well, just one of those days?"

"Those days?"

"Oh, nothing really, my mind seems to be somewhere else."

"Would you like to come and see my garden, Andrew?"

"Yes, I would."

I unloaded my plants first and then helped carry Elizabeth's into her courtyard.

As far as she'd gone with what we'd bought the previous weekend, her planting seemed to have been more effective than mine. It's strange how some people seem to have just the touch for certain things. They seem to be able, without any undue effort, to make an excellent job of whatever it is. 

With Ted's princess business still niggling away I asked, "Did you have a garden in Ruthvenia?"

"Yes, we had a garden."

"And you worked in it?"

"A little, when I could."

"What did you do when you lived there?"

"Oh, I had a...a government job."

"Was it an important job?"

"Some people thought so."

"But not everyone?"

"Most people...why are you asking me this," she said agitatedly, "you know what I do now so why do you ask me about Ruthvenia?"

Her prevarication urged me on, so I took the plunge.

"I know you'll laugh at this Elizabeth, but someone told me that you are the Crown Princess of Ruthvenia."

She had been about to pick up a plant. She remained stock still for a moment, then straightened up, looking at me.

She didn't laugh. "Who told you that, Andrew?"

"Just a friend of mine."

"Do you believe him?"

"I didn't but now I'm starting to wonder."

"That is why you have been a little strange today."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"It always the same."

"It's true then?"

"Not quite. I was the Crown Princess."

"Was?"

"Ruthvenia is now a republic."

"Oh, did you have to flee...where you in danger?"

She smiled and said, "No Andrew, I was not in danger. Since now you know who I am, or was, I had better tell you the whole story, but not now. This evening - you will visit me this evening?"

"Yes, if you want me to, but you don't have to tell me if you..."

"I think I do have to tell you Andrew, you will see why." She smiled a little wanly and continued, "I would like to invite you to dine with me, but I am still learning to cook; you see how it was, I never had to cook."

"I'm not much good myself," I replied ruefully. "Perhaps we could both go to a restaurant together one evening."

"Yes, I would like, but we shall see. Eight o'clock?"

"Eight o'clock; I'll be there. And by the way, your garden is looking very good."

"Thank you Andrew."

I left to cook my own meal, but was so engrossed I ordered a pizza by telephone instead.

At a couple of minutes to eight o'clock I was at her door ringing the bell, feeling rather agitated but at the same time intrigued.

The princess opened the door looking very pleasing in a simple white cotton dress, but no more royal than on previous occasions. I was ushered into the lounge and asked to sit.

It was the same armchair I had occupied on my previous visit, and once more Elizabeth sat opposite me.

Her dark eyes gazed at me for nearly half a minute, then she sighed and began to speak.

"You wonder why I did not tell you about who I was?"

"No, it's your own business what you tell me or anyone else."

"Yes, but always people seem to find out and they change."

"Change?"

"Being Crown Princess is all in the past now, but still it hangs with me...what you say here, like a foul stench?"

"A bad smell," I corrected. "But you don't smell bad at all, in fact you smell rather nice."

"You like?"

"Yes...but I'm sorry, I was just making a silly joke."

"Ah, I see. I do not always understand the humour of this country."

"I still say you smell nice."

"What I am saying Andrew is this; people learn I was once Crown Princess; some do not seem to like me after that, or others become...how do you say it? Obsickness?"

"I think you might mean obsequious."

"Why they do that I do not know. You see how I live, you see I do not have lots of money or jewels, I do not have even influence; so what they hope I give?"

"Perhaps they like the idea of knowing royalty."

"Yes, perhaps so, but I am no longer royalty. Ruthvenia is a republic now."

"A revolution?"

"No, no, people think that, but no revolution. My father suggested it."

"Your father?"

"Yes, King. Every week the prime minister come to him and makes report and they talk. One day my father say to him, "Prime minister, why do we still have monarchy?"

The prime minister say, "Your majesty, the people are devoted to you; you are our Head of State."

My father say, "What do I do? I live in a big palace, meet visiting dignitaries, attend banquets, open things and sign documents; it is you and the Assembly who does things, so what need of me?"

The prime minister say, "The people would not have a republic. We should have to hold a plebiscite and I assure you they would vote against a republic."

"Prime Minister," my father say, "hold a plebiscite and I will speak to the people on television and radio and tell them they should have a republic."

"So what happened?"

"They held the plebiscite."

"And?"

"The people voted for a republic."

"So your father and the family were out of a job?"

"No, not quite."

"Why...how...?"

"Under the new constitution they had to have a President."

"Yes?"

"They voted for my father."

"Well I'll be damned."

"And what does he do now? He lives in a palace, meets visiting dignitaries, attends banquets, opens things and signs documents."

"So nothing changed?"

"Yes it did. There was no longer a hereditary Head of State, so I was no longer the Crown Princess who would one day be Queen."

"Does that make you sad?"

"No...no, I think I would have been a very bad Queen, mainly because I never wanted to be Queen."

"But you could have stayed in Ruthvenia?" 

"Oh yes, but I thought, there may be something I could do for my country, but what? I had spent so much time learning to be Queen I had not learned any other skill."

"It was my mother who said to me, 'Elizabeta, you know about our clothes designers, you have worn many of their creations, why do you not help them?'" 

"So I came here and opened my shop to sell clothes designed and made in Ruthvenia. It is a very small start but perhaps it will grow. But you see Andrew, I have had the big things and they are not very...what would you say? Comfortable? I thought I wanted small things and have small friends, like you."

I wasn't too sure I liked the adjective "small," but I thought I saw her point., and said so.

Looking at me keenly she went on, "There is much more I could say, but I am thinking, Andrew, you might have become my friend, but now you know about me, do you think that is no longer possible?"

"You want me to be your small friend."

"Oh Andrew, as soon as I said it I knew I had said it wrong, but what could I say? It is sometimes nice to have people waving and cheering when you pass among them, and having people bow when they speak with you, but it is not real...I mean...there is no touching of soul with soul...do I say that right?"

"Yes, very right."

"Soon after I met you, I think to myself, 'He is a nice man and I would like my soul to touch his.' You escort me and then we buy plants together, and when you did not want me to stand on the chair because I might hurt myself, I think, 'He wants to be my friend, and our souls touched.'"

I could see that she craved ordinary relationships, and although she believed that people changed in relation to her when they learned about her royal background, I was sure it was not the whole story. Some of the problem lay with her. She had never learned how to have an ordinary, open relationship, except perhaps with her family.

That thought gave rise to another. She was around forty years of age, I guessed; had she ever been married? I didn't know how to approach that, but almost as if Elizabeth sensed my thought, she asked, "Have you ever had a great love, Andrew?"

"Yes, I once had a great love."

"Your souls were one?"

This imagery was strange to me, but understanding its drift I replied, "Yes, our souls were one."

"It is beautiful when it happens like that."

"Yes."

"Did it...are you...your love is it...?"

"She died."

"Oh, that is sad; is it right to ask how?"

"She fell of a chair."

"Fell off...ah, so that is why..."

"Yes, she was standing on a chair to get to a high cupboard and she slipped, fell and hit her head on the corner of the table."

"Is it long ago?"

"Just over two years."

"Perhaps you are lucky...she was lucky..."

"Lucky, how the hell could either of us be lucky, she died."

"Yes...yes...I understand Andrew. I was thinking of Ector."

"Ector?

"He too had an accident, but he did not die. He was to be my consort when I became Queen. Our souls were one and that is unusual."

"How is it unusual?"

"Ah yes, you do not understand. One day my father say to me, 'Elizabeta, you must marry because you will need a consort one day.' It meant finding someone from another royal house – a prince. My father say, 'It is difficult, but I will not make you marry if you do not think you could love.'"

"So what happened?"

"It sounds not nice, but a list was made of eligible princes, and then they were invited to stay with us for a while. It was Ector I loved. He was so kind and gentle; he did not brag or show off, he was just himself when he was with me. I knew our souls would become one."

"And he died?"

"No, he still lives."

"But then, why..."

"Your beloved died from an accident; my beloved had an accident, but he did not die, not properly."

"I don't understand."

"He was riding a horse at the head of the palace guards. It was on the long road in front of the palace. There were people, tourists, watching the parade and cheering and something happened to make the horse shy. It ran off into the crowd injuring several people. Ector was trying to bring it under control when it ran under a tree; Ector's head was struck by a branch and he fell off."

"Almost like Anne's accident; a head injury."

"Yes, but Ector did not die; he is what you call a carrot."

"A car...oh, you mean a vegetable." 

"Yes; he does not speak, he knows no one, and he must be fed and washed and he lies in bed with things attached to him."

"You mean he is really dead to life?"

"Two years I hoped, and then my father say, 'Elizabeta, the doctors say he will never recover, you must have formal divorce and than remarry.'"

"I said know I would not; I had promised before God that Ector and I will be one."

"The archbishop came to me and he say, 'Your highness, your husband will not recover, and even if he did a little his brain is so badly damaged that he could not be your consort. It is not God's will that you should go on waiting for something that will never happen. You have a God given responsibility to your people.'"

"In my heart I knew he was right and a divorce was secured, although they called it an annulment. But even though they ended my marriage I could not bring myself to remarry."

She smiled sadly and said. "Do you know Andrew, it was the republic that saved me."

"How?"

"The republic does not need a Crown Princess or a future Queen and Consort. There was no need for me to marry again."

"And that's when you came to this country?" 

"Yes, with my idea – perhaps my foolish idea – that I could do something for Ruthvenia."

"Will you stay?"

"Perhaps; I am told that eventually I could become a citizen and hold dual citizenship."

"Yes, I've heard of that."

"Are you my friend, Andrew?"

"If you want me as your friend, Elizabeth, then yes, I am your friend."

It seemed very odd, this formal way of arranging a friendship, but perhaps that was the way royalty went on, or maybe it indicated Elizabeth's uncertainty about her self. Whatever the case, I found it strangely moving.

It was getting late, so I rose and said, "Thank you for taking me into your confidence; I'm very honoured."

She rose and took my hand and said, "Our souls have touched tonight, Andrew."

Her look and words were so earnest that I felt near to tears. Someone who once had probably been seen above all pain and sorrow, who had to hide her emotions, had opened herself to me.

Greatly moved I said, "Goodnight, Elizabeth, I shall be here if you need me."

"And I if you need me, Andrew. Goodnight."

I left her, a thoughtful man. From the first moment of seeing her, when she was being harassed by the gypsy look-alike, I felt protective. Perhaps it was something to do with a palace upbringing. No doubt that had its particular realities and difficulties; the formal relationships that did not allow for intimacy beyond the bounds of the palace. Even her relationship with beloved Ector had been within the constraining bounds of royalty. Now she had exposed herself to the world beyond the palace and was struggling to cope.

By chance she was my neighbour, and also, seemingly by chance, a meeting at the exhibition, and for whatever reason she had cosen me to open herself to and, yes, she was right, our souls had touched. "What beautiful imagery," I thought.

I suppose in a way we were both souls seeking to touch, because ever since Anne's tragic death I had been, in Elizabeth's terms, a lost soul. It was true that I had friends – people like Ted with whom I would have an occasional drink with, and the only women I had any real contact with were the wives or girlfriends of my male friends and acquaintances.

But Anne seemed to have so absorbed me that after her death there had seemed to be no desire to find another female companion. It struck me how similar my lot was to Elizabeth's. Her Ector still lived his living death, and Elizabeth had resisted suggestions she divorce and take another husband. She too felt that there could be no other soul to entwine with hers.

Over the following weeks we had our restaurant dinner together, and that was followed by several more such evenings. We went together to buy more plants until our troughs were full, and then we went on to free standing plants in large pots and planter boxes.

We looked at each other's gardens, discussed and advised about what was to be done. Elizabeth asked me to go to another art exhibition, and this time she bought a painting. It was a magnificent sea-scape. She explained that Ruthvenia had no sea coast but she loved the sea.

Since we have many fine beaches here we got around to talking about them and we agreed on visiting one together.

I think at this point I should explain something about myself. Obviously I was well past there age when sperm filled testes constantly demand release. My experience with Anne was not, to use Elizabeth's terms, entirely concerned with the soul; it had a definite physical aspect as well – a physical aspect that had been deeply satisfying.

Now that's a thought. Perhaps soul and body belong together and sexual contact with one you love is part of soul meeting.

I am not suggesting that I was totally devoid of interest in women; it was more a case of my not being able to work up enough interest to pursue female flesh.

That day on the beach with Elizabeth changed things a little. If it was true that she wore a very revealing bikini, I would say so; but it was not the case. It was as much what she did not reveal in her one piece bathing suit, as what she did reveal that added physical to soul.

That one piece moulded to her figure, and she was lovely. Yes, even old-fashioned me got an erection looking at her. There were other women on the beach who might just as well have been naked for all that they had covered, but for me there was only one woman on the beach, Elizabeth.

In her ingenuous way Elizabeth made it worse. At one point she said, "You look at me strangely, Andrew, is something wrong?"

Incredibly, but after a bit of inner tussle, I said just what I was thinking. "I'm looking at you Elizabeth because you are so lovely."

She smiled and then said very softly, "You like, Andrew?"

"Yes Elizabeth, I like very much."

Then she spoilt it by saying, "Ector, he also liked very much."

So it was still Ector - poor vegetable Ector - who filled her thoughts. For a moment I thought I might get my revenge by saying, "Anne liked very much," but I decided it would be childish. This dear, almost naïve woman, never said anything to deliberately hurt, it just came out as it was. I either accepted that or our souls would cease to touch.

She smoothed my ruffled feathers a little by taking my hand and saying, "You are like Ector, so kind and gentle." Our souls touched again.

After that I did not really know where I stood with Elizabeth. She had disturbed my grief inspired celibacy. We went out together increasingly, in fact you could say we were constant companions. The problem was, the inner fire, having been rekindled, was turning into a fierce conflagration. Yet I could not bring myself to disturb what on the surface looked like a calm, beautiful friendship.

Jealousy, that green eyed monster, stepped in and had an unexpected outcome.

Under a window at the front of the house I had a small window plant box. One Sunday morning I was just inspecting it when I saw a car draw up outside Elizabeth's house. A tall and very good looking young man stepped out and approached her door. 

When she opened the door there were joyful outcries. It was in a language I could not understand, but the content was clear from the sounds of their voices. My interpretation was, they were two lovers meeting after a time of separation.

"So that's it," I thought. "I've been a filler-in. She's used me until the real thing comes along."

I went inside, and in my envious turmoil I couldn't settle to anything.

It must have been about half an hour after seeing the young man when my doorbell rang. I didn't want to see anyone, but it rang again, a long urgent ring.

When I finally opened it I was confronted by a shining , exuberant Elizabeth.

She grabbed my arm and breathlessly said, "You come...you come quickly Andrew...must meet...come..."

I thought I was about to have my face rubbed into her joyful meeting with her new soul mate, but I went along with it just so that I could grovel a bit more in my misery.

I was dragged into her lounge and saw the young man sitting in an armchair. He rose as we entered.

"Look...look Andrew, Jeffris, my son, he come...not tell. Jeffris, this Andrew Davies."

"Elizabeth, you never told me you had a son."

The young man extended his hand to me saying, "I am very pleased to meet my mother's lover." 




Soul to Soul



There was a brief ominous pause, and then Elizabeth went into what sounded like a tirade in her own language. The young man interjected occasionally but it was Elizabeth who held the floor.

I saw a flush of embarrassment creep over the young man's face and finally he turned to me and said, "Deeply I apologise...is language...my mother she say you her very dear friend so I think..."

Elizabeth interrupted, again addressing the young man in her own language, then he went on, "I thank you for being friend to my mother and she now need friend. I bring her sad news."

"He come all this way to tell me that they took Ector off the life supports and he has died. I have beautiful son."

She hugged him and spoke again in her own language. I had never known Ector so I couldn't feel sorry about his death, but I could feel sorry for Elizabeth.

"I'm sorry to here that, Elizabeth; if there's anything I can do...?" 

Unexpectedly she smiled and said, "No sorrow, his soul in heaven now. Come we have much to do."

"Er...what have we got to do, Elizabeth?" I asked, wishing I had her simplicity of faith.

"My lovely son bring priest from Ruthvenia, he awaits us in chapel; we go and pray. Must change, you wait, speak with my son."

"Lovely" was perhaps not quite the right word for Jeffris. He was certainly a handsome youth and appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen years of age.

"Awkwardly I began, "So you've come all this way to tell your mother about your father's death?"

"Yes, grandfather say, it better than letter or telephone."

"Yes."

"You are mother's...er...dear friend?"

"I believe so?"

"Your souls have touched?"

"I...er...yes, I think our souls have touched."

"Your souls have touched but you do not think she is beautiful. I have heard of such soul meetings before; what you say, it is a friendship...er...plasticnic?"

"I think you mean Platonic; and yes, I do think your mother is a very lovely woman."

"You think?"

"Yes."

"You think her face and body are good to look upon?"

"My God," I thought, "like mother like son. He says it like he feels it."

"Yes, she is very good to look upon."

"And your souls have touched?"

"Yes they...look Jeffris, if you mean are we very good friends, yes we are."

"I mean, but not understand."

The convoluted conversation was starting to get on my nerves so I asked irritably, "What exactly is it you don't understand, Jeffris?"

"Mother say you very good friend and your souls have touched, yes?"

"Yes."

"You say your soul touch hers, yes?"

"Yes...yes Jeffris."

"You also say she good to look at, yes?"

"Yes she is but..."

"Then why you not my mother's lover?"

"Jeffris, we...I...er...your mother and I we're..."

"We go."

Elizabeth had entered the room. She was dressed in black, and damn it, she looked lovely in it. 

"We go now," she said again.

"I...I'll see you when you come back," I said.

"No...no Andrew, you come, we pray. Priest waits for us."

"But I don't...I'm not dressed for church."

"No matter; I tell priest you friend and foreigner, he understand, come."

She took my hand, and unresisting I let myself be dragged out to the car Jeffris had arrived in. It was a great black Rolls Royce and chauffer driven; I was almost bundled into it.

As we drove away I gasped, "Where did you get this from?"

It was Jeffris who answered; "My grandfather president, your government honour him."

He paused for a moment then and said rather proudly, "I am president also."

"You're...how..."

Elizabeth intervened; "He means he is president of the Ruthvenia Trade Union Alliance."

"What!"

"Great honour," Jeffris said. "My grandfather and I argue often, but it only matter of form."

"My God," I thought, "what sort of Musical Comedy State is Ruthvenia? The King demands it becomes a republic and the gets elected President; his grandson is President of the Trade union Alliance, and his daughter is trying to run a shop here."

I wondered what the rest of the family were doing. Was the president's wife, the late Queen, leader of the Left Wing Socialist Party?

Jeffris seemed, like his mother, to have the knack of picking up on one's thoughts.

"My grandmother is chairperson of the Nurses Union; she and I also argue; she ask too much."

Elizabeth picked up the flow and said rather sadly, "My sister leads the Right Wing Neo-Fascist Party, 'Ruthvenia for the Ruthvenians,' it only got five members.

We pulled up outside a small chapel that announced that it was the "Orthodox Church of Ruthvenia." I had never seen it before.

We went inside and it was aglow with candles. 

Not one, but two priests awaited us. They both bowed to Elizabeth and said, "We greet you, your royal highness. 

Elizabeth made the introductions. "Father Alexis, Father Alexandrios, my soul friend Andrew Davies."

"Welcome brother Andrew," Father Alexis said. "We shall pray for the soul of His Royal Highness, Ector."

"And also the soul of Andrew's soul bond Anne," Elizabeth added. 

"At your command, highness," Father Alexandrios said.

Elizabeth and Jeffris knelt at the altar rail. Not wanting to be the odd one out I knelt with them.

The priests began to intone in what I supposed to be Ruthvenian. At one point we were given candles. Elizabeth and Jeffris lit theirs from some of the other candles, and trying to keep up I did the same. Our three candles were place upon the altar. There was some more chanting and then the priests came to us and placed their hands on our heads, saying something I did not understand, but it felt like a blessing.

The priest kissed Elizabeth and Jeffris on their cheeks, and then kissed me.

In English Father Alexis said, "You are free, my son, you are richly blessed."

Elizabeth said, "Thank you fathers, I honour you; and Father Alexis, on your return to Ruthvenia tell his Holiness the Archbishop I remember him with much tenderness."

"I will, your Highness," Alexis replied.

Both priests bowed to Elizabeth and we left. 

Back in the car Elizabeth said, "Now you see what it is like to be a princess. The Ruthvenian Orthodox Church has never come to terms with the republic, even though the Archbishop is the secretary of the Left Wing Alliance."

I wanted to express my confusion, but Jeffris intervened.

"Mother, I must leave tonight. The Printers Union wishes me to negotiate for them a new contract."

He glanced at me and then Elizabeth. "Now your souls are released you will have much to talk of. Will we soon see you back in Ruthvenia, mother? My grandfather grows old and the presidency weighs heavily upon him. The people await your return, and you know what they will want."

"Yes," replied Elizabeth, "but I must first make my soul union here."

I felt as if I was – if I might put it crudely – a spare prick at a party. 

We had arrived back at Elizabeth's house and we alighted and went inside. It was all very weird, and it went on in that oddly formal way that had begun at the chapel.

"Mother I leave you now. Soon we shall be together and..."

"We shall argue."

He smiled and said, "I hope so mother."

"Tell the printers that I think that their one hundred and twenty five Ruths each week should be one hundred and fifty."

"I shall tell them mother, and the prime minister, and that greedy media baron; is he not of this country?"

"He was, my son, but he changed allegiances to get more profit."

Farewell, then, mother."

He bowed and kissed her hand, and left.

"Andrew, have we got time to go to the plant nursery, I want to get plant for my bedroom?"

"Yes your high...Elizabeth, but what was all that about?"

"Ah, yes, you did not understand."

"What?"

"The priests prayed for the soul of Ector. They prayed that he would now release my earthly soul so that I may unite my soul with another. I told them about Anne, and they also prayed to her. She said she released your soul and all of us would meet again in paradise. Is that not beautiful?"

"Yes...yes," I replied, not sure about this heavenly liberty. "Shall we go to the plant nursery?"

We got the plant but I felt as if was living in some strange fairy land.

Elizabeth seemed unperturbed by what had taken place, but me...what had I got myself into?

I must admit that I was rather fed up with what I saw as this royalist mumbo jumbo about releasing souls and meeting in paradise. I was very fond of Elizabeth, but all this stuff wasn't on my mental screen. I started to wonder if I should have less to do with Elizabeth before she got me rising up to the seventh heaven.

Going back to work settled my mind a bit. The nice, everyday problems of sorting out who wanted what were a solace. It was mid-week when the wheels fell off again.

I had been working late and when I arrived home a doleful Elizabeth was sitting on my doorstep.

"Andrew, I have been so foolish."

"What?"

"I went out and shut the door, and left my key inside."

"Ah." Naturally our doors were designed so that once shut they could not be opened without a key.

"What can I do, Andrew?"

"Well, I could try and get one of those burglar-proof screens off one of your windows, but I haven't got the right tool bit. Or you could call a locksmith, but I don't know whether they work this late; you'd better come into my place and we'll try and telephone one of them." 

We tried endless locksmiths and none of them were answering.

What can I do?" wailed Elizabeth.

Well, you could go to a motel for the night," I replied, "or...or...why not sleep in my second bedroom?"

"Ah, Andrew, you are so kind. I sleep here."

"On second thoughts," I said, "you sleep in my bed; it's much bigger than the one in the second bedroom."

"No...no...you kind, I sleep in second bedroom."

"As you wish," I replied, almost adding, You're Royal Highness." 

"It is good," she replied, "I cook?"

As it happened we managed to produce between us a meal of sausages and mashed potatoes, plus some other vegetables.

After we had eaten and cleared up we sat talking for a while about plants, restaurants we might visit, and possible visits to the beach. All very innocuous, and as far as I was concerned very dubious, given how was feeling about royalty.

When it came time to go to bed Elizabeth said, "I have nothing to wear in bed."

I suggested that she might wear one of my spare sets of pyjamas, but deciding that they would be far too big for her, we settled on one of my shirts.

Elizabeth showered and bade me goodnight with a virtuous kiss on the cheek and her now familiar, "You very kind." 

I took my shower and then got into bed. 

I know this sounds all very pure and insipid, but believe me it wasn't. The vision of Elizabeth in my shirt, and in the room right next to mine, gave rise to lustful thoughts; this despite my tentative resolve to have less to do with Her Royal Highness.

Crisis time came at God knows what hour of the night. A hand touched my shoulder.

"Andrew...Andrew..."

"Wha...what...?"

I tried to shake off the fog of sleep. In the dark I could not see her, but obviously it had to be Elizabeth.

"I lie to you, Andrew."

I reached for the bed light switch and turned it on. Elizabeth was kneeling beside my bed.

"I tell you a lie, Andrew, you forgive?"

"What lie?"

She held up a key.

"I did not lose key, only pretend."

"Why...why pretend?"

"You kind, I knew you let me stay with you."

"Yes...yes, but why?"

"Our souls."

"Now don't start that again."

"One day at beach you say you like, yes?"

"Yes, but..."

"My son, he said, 'Mother, this man Andrew, your souls have touched in friendship; I think your souls must be one.' Now Ector and Anne have released our souls, I think also our souls should be united."

"United?"

Suddenly Elizabeth seemed to have a grasp of English she had not demonstrated before.

"You stupid man, I love you, why you not see that?"

"I...I..."

"You say you like, you gentle friend, why you not take me to your bed? Ector gone, Anne gone, I...our souls....I love; you not love me?"

"Elizabeth I..." 

I stopped. It was strange, I felt as if I was free of Anne. I was free to love again – was that because of all the praying and chanting in the chapel?

Elizabeth insinuated herself into the bed.

"You like, I make our souls one."

She pulled close to me, her body was warm and soft; I got warmer.

"How I tell you I love you," she whispered close to my ear. "You like, I give."

She was still wearing my shirt, but now she pulled it off and lay back on the bed.

"You see me on the beach and like; look now and like. I prayed that you like me; I lie to you about the key; see how I want our souls to be one?"

I looked at her in the dim light of the bed reading lamp. She was beautiful, but I had known from the start she would be. Those soft rounded breasts with their delicate pink nipples, and the little triangle of pubic hair, she looked so chaste.

"Oh yes, Elizabeth, I like, I love." 

"And it is good that our souls should be one?"

"It is good."

Afterwards, when passion was momentarily spent and I held her in my arms, she asked, "It is good?"

"It is good, my love."

"Soon we go before Father Alexandrios and make our soul vows before God?"

"Yes, on one condition."

"What is that?"

"You do not stand on chairs again."

"Only if you promise not to ride horses." 

I have learned to speak Ruthvenian, but it still feels strange to stand one pace behind the newly elected President. But then, at night in bed we know that our souls are one.

Elizabeth does not stand on chairs, and I do not ride horses.