Like apples of gold in silver carvings…only this time it was the other way about. Silver in gold. Vincent could see it oh so clearly, Catherine, silver clad amid a glittering array of golden light. She was smiling, laughing, and in her hand, she held a slim crystal glass that twinkled a myriad of colours beneath the dancing light and surrounded the amber liquid within. And then the picture changed and Vincent found himself standing behind a man whose eyes bore directly into Catherine’s back with murderous intent. And though Vincent’s claw tipped fingers reached out to strike the man from off the face of the earth, his hands met nothing but air and a sinister cackle of laughter told him of his futile attempt to kill. Another sequence revealed another moment in time and Vincent was watching a new scene unfold. His Catherine, fear in her eyes as a knife descended down toward her face, returning those horrors of old to her petrified mind. And Vincent so near yet so far able to do nothing about it…though he roared and though he lunged and though he tore at her captors with his lethal claws he touched nothing, nothing at all…and the nightmare went on…and on…and on…


With the candles burning low around the chamber and casting a soft peach glow along the fringes of the shadows Father whispered his son’s name and patted his cheek, hoping that it would bring him round even knowing full well the danger associated with doing such a thing to his unique son while he slept. Still this particular nightmare had gripped his son for the last two days, on and off, in fact, every time that Vincent had closed his eyes to rest.

Of course he’d seen this happen before, it wasn’t the first or last time his son would be troubled so, but Father knew he would never quite get used to seeing the type of fevers and the nightmares that tormented his son, Vincent. Being a physician was the worst of it, being a doctor and unable to do a single thing to help made him feel so inadequate and so distressed that Father was constantly searching through new and old medical journals to see if he might find some miracle cure that would stop such things happening to his son. For to have to stand by and watch and know that he ought to have been able to do something more than mop the sick man’s brow reduced Father to a mental state of tears and despair. In fact, it was despair, Father decided, that had caused the latest illness to befall his son and Father could see that falling in love had not helped his son’s disposition one iota. It had only added to the burden of his fears, had only increased the nightmares, and the visions tenfold as the bond that connected Vincent to his ladylove Catherine fed him her every emotion, fear and desire.

Slowly heavy lids lifted over blue eyes and Father winced at the pain within them, “I know this is difficult for you Vincent, but try to wake up.” The concern in Father’s tone was evident.

“I…I…can’t…” Vincent whispered his eyes mere slits of dull blue light.

“Then let me help you, here sit back against the pillow, force yourself awake. This is doing no one any good, and each time you lay down to rest the dream seems even worse than before.” With his hands beneath Vincent’s armpits Father tried to heave his son back against the pillows. He fought a losing battle for Vincent was far too big. “Help me Vincent. I can’t do this alone.” Father puffed.

“Father…please…leave…me…be…”

“Leave you? Vincent you may not realise the depth of this fever, look the flannels are wringing, you need to wake up and take in some nourishment, here drink this water before you dehydrate.”

“Thank you…Father.” Vincent inclined his head forward enough to drink from the offered mug. He drank it all though at first he felt it was the last thing he needed, then his head fell back against the pillows as though the simple excursion had been far too much for him.

“I’m worried about you, Vincent. Is this the same nightmare?”

Vincent nodded.

“The one about Catherine at the social gathering?”

Again, Vincent nodded. His eyes dulled further and Father knew that his son was looking inward seeing the pictures only he knew.

“Yet Catherine has told you, she has no functions to attend until later in the year, and she has no planned trips out of the city. Maybe this is just a nightmare, of the sort most people have. It might not mean anything this time.”

Slowly Vincent shook his head, “It…does…have…meaning.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’ve…told…you.”

Father winced. His son was always deliberate with words but speaking so few right now, indeed took great effort so Father asked sympathetically, “yes I know Vincent, but tell me again. I wrote down everything that you said the last time, maybe there is something additional now, something you have overlooked. Has the face of the man been revealed to you yet?”

“No.”

Father sighed wearily, “Here, have some more water. William is sending some soup, I’ll bring it to you when it arrives. Until then Vincent try to wake up, for it appears that each time you close your eyes the nightmare returns. And I worry about you, Vincent anything could happen if you slip into another fever. Each seems to be worse than the last. In fact…” he left the words unsaid as he saw the questioning look enter his son’s eyes.

“Your heart Vincent. I may not be able to undo these awful nightmares and visions surrounding you right now, but I can bring down a fever if you work with me on this. If your blood pressure rises any higher your heart will suffer. So, try to remain conscious by dwelling on other things. This vision seems to strike you every time you close your eyes.”

From somewhere deep inside of him Vincent summoned enough strength to answer; “And if I am meant to have this vision?” He paused searching for further strength then went on slowly, “Father how can I hope to protect Catherine… if I am not permitted to follow through on the nightmare… for only in dreams can I… identify the man that means her harm.”

“Yet you said, his face is not revealed to you?” Father asked his voice surging with renewed hope and crashing as his son replied, “that is so… but each time Father… the nightmare reveals something new to me… it might only be minimal of no consequence now… but it is helping me to build the picture.”

Taking up one furred and overlarge hand in his own, Father stroked the back with the pad of his thumb, “Vincent, have you thought…” It was something that had been at the back of his mind for too long, ever since Vincent had first related this particular vision to him.

“What Father? Have I thought of what?”

For a moment Father hung his head unable to voice his suspicions, but remembrance of the night just gone, the fever, the sweat and laboured breathing, the thrashing upon the bed of his son forced the idea into words. “You told me that recently, you and Catherine had spent many happy hours watching videos? Is that correct? As he saw his son nod Father continued, “I wondered if the content of whatever you have been watching has in fact stimulated these nightmares perhaps fed your imagination with fantasy and fiction rather than fact.” Father braced himself for the outburst he expected, surprised when it did not come.

“I too wondered at first.” For the first time in a long time Father saw his son smile, or maybe it was a wry grimace, whatever it was gone in the blink of an eye leaving Father only to assume what he had seen as Vincent went on. “Some of the video’s were travel logs… countries I have only ever dreamed of… then Catherine began to hire films pertaining to books I have read… documentaries of life… wonderful animals plants… majestic mountains… Oh, Father… I have never seen such wonders!” For a moment Vincent’s eyes glazed with remembrance, a whisper of a smile hovering around his lips that this time Father did not imagine he’d seen.

“And then?” Eager to press on Father prompted his son.

“Then…”Vincent sighed, “Someone lent Catherine a movie she had never seen… unlike the rest whose content she knew… she had no way of forewarning me of what may come… In fact she was as surprised as I by the violence portrayed… in what had at first appeared to be a harmless tale of love and affection. We were both shocked by what we saw… even though I know what it is to see…that amount of… blood.” He issued the last word on a whisper so slight that Father had to strain to hear him.

All was quiet for several moments following that revelation and then Vincent began to speak again slowly in his usual soft tone but not now a whisper. “Father, we’ve never watched another video since that day… even though Catherine obtained some more that were of safe content… it was as if that machine… that recorder had spoken to me of things I ought not have known… even though I knew of them all along.”

“Then the experience frightened you?” Father asked understanding how it must be for his unique and sensitive son.

“Yes.”

“And since then you have had this vision?”

“Yes, although not as a direct attachment to what I saw, but rather as if the machine itself was reaching out to me, speaking to me, showing me things not yet perceived, almost as if it holds the answers, or the warning of something future.” Vincent shook his head and clearly his parent could see how hard it had been for his son to come to terms with the nightmares he had been experiencing. They were indeed different, coming out of a strange appliance - a machine rather than directly out of his mind. That was, in itself, so difficult to comprehend, but then understanding everything about his unique son had never been straightforward.

“So you don’t think the nightmare portrays something that you saw for an instance? I take it that it was only an instance?” Father asked wondering if the two of them had sat through the film regardless.

“Catherine has a wonderful device that switches the machine off… without ever leaving her chair. A remote control she calls it. No Father, don’t worry… the moment blood was spilled before our eyes… Catherine shut the machine …and the horrifying spectacle off from us.”

“But not quite soon enough. You know Vincent when I was a very small boy and saw something quite frightening on the television screen I found that on the rare occasions I was allowed to see the film all the way through I wasn’t half as frightened as the times when I was ushered from the room and prevented to see what actually happened.”

Cocking his head in a way that Catherine and half the community held dear, Vincent’s eyes begged his father to explain.

“I found that my imagination made up a more terrifying ending than the one I should imagine would have been presented on the screen. The imagination is a marvellous work of art Vincent, and the brain never shuts down not even in sleep. Tell me what more can you remember of the programme you were watching?”

For a long time Vincent was remembering and then haltingly he began to speak. “Mountains…snow…sunshine so piercing it hurt my eyes…then the picture switched to another place that I supposed was at the same moment elsewhere in the world a gathering…he paused his eyes opening wide as the realisation hit him…Father!”

Father nodded smiling gently, his relief so obvious Vincent could feel it and the delight in his tone so evident when he replied, “You see my boy! What you have been dreaming is part and parcel of a never-ending story. You never knew the outcome of the video, so you made one up, and it was, is, far more horrifying than I suppose the real ending was. This is what I mean when I say the brain never sleeps and its creativity is brilliant, one can only marvel…” his voice trailed away as his son looked at him with doubt forming in those bright blue eyes.

“What? What is it?”

“All this is very well, but how can Catherine be a part of this dream? Why would my mind make up an ending that involves violence toward her? Why does it not end with me saving her, rather than fade away leaving me with the terrible fear that I cannot save her in time? That doesn’t make sense Father, it doesn’t!”

Father couldn’t argue that point. It was true, but then it was not true. In the face of what Vincent and Catherine so often endured and be it that the mind made up the most ridiculous of plots when sleeping, gave Father good reason enough to tell his son exactly that, but then again…

“I don’t know Vincent, could be an accumulation of fact, fiction and fantasy all rolled into one, but the utmost thought here is this. What you have been dreaming, imagining, hallucinating is not and will never be something that is to happen, but rather a figment of the imagination that stirs within you to believe it is yet to be, because Catherine is involved. I think you can quite happily realise now that your nightmares and fevers will be a thing of the past when it comes to reversing that thought process as something that will never be.”

Vincent wasn’t so sure, but he was relieved that in all probability Father was right, although…it had seemed so real and he’d like nothing more than to get on with his life, but every time he closed his eyes, he was enveloped in the grip of that awful nightmare. Sometimes even when he were just dozing in his chair with his eyes open, all he could see before him was a room full of people somewhere up above, Catherine in a long silver gown, and the eyes of one man boring down on her with malicious contempt. How was it he could always see those eyes, but never his face? How was it he knew that murderous intent was in that man’s heart? How was he so sure that the anger and resentment was directed at Catherine? Vincent didn’t know, but he knew that this was no ordinary nightmare, no ordinary vision. He was receiving it for a reason and he was to use it to save Catherine’s life. But how? How when he knew no dates, no names, no faces and Catherine had promised him that she had nothing arranged, no gathering to attend and more importantly she didn’t possess a silver gown?

He sighed, grateful for Father’s comforting presence, yet wishing she was with him now. His beloved Catherine, only to see her face, hear her voice, know that she was well, believe Father’s assumptions that the nightmare was just the tail end of a film he had not completely seen.

With determined effort Vincent pulled himself up off the bed, pins and needles shooting through his feet as he put them to the ground, and waiting as they subsided he reached across to the bedside chair to reach the clean clothing Mary had put out for him earlier.

“I see you are feeling better?” Father grinned knowingly.

Unable to worry him further Vincent smiled, “Thank you for your understanding Father.” And swept him into a bear hug almost stifling the older man, still Father did not mind, it was all he could do from letting tears spill down his cheeks, he was that happy. His son appeared well again, thank goodness he had thought about that video.

“Go and have that bath Vincent. A long leisurely soak will be just what the doctor ordered.” He chuckled, “I’m sure all will be well now.”

Vincent hoped so too, but even as he made his weary way toward the area where he and Father bathed, he was uncertain because once again the pictures were gathering behind his eyes. And the knot of fear that threaded around his heart whenever he thought of Catherine had not abated throughout the whole discourse with Father even though the things he’d said had been so logical.

Why would the mind create a faceless man and yet give him a name that had no meaning? For of that he had not been able to tell, for until that moment he had not grasped that the man did indeed have a name known to him. And that name made no sense, no sense at all, for that name was like no other.

Effects, the name…it was Effects, but that didn’t make any sense at all.

Breezing into her office and ducking behind the leafy plant, Catherine slid into her seat and pulled the nearest file forward her heart hammering as she stole a quick glance in the direction of her boss’s office door.

“No such luck, Radcliffe!” His voice at her side made her clearly jump, and despite his annoyance he laughed, “So what was it this time, a sick aunt, uncle…monkey…monkey’s uncle? Or is that what I am to put up with you? You’re late! As if you didn’t know, and that makes it the forth time this week.”

“I’m sorry Joe, it won’t happen…”

“Again? Wasn’t that what you said on Monday? Oh and let’s get this right, on Tuesday? Wednesday? And today Thursday? How will tomorrow be any different? Look kiddo,” his voice softened, “If it were only me, you could drag yourself in here duvet included every morning, but John…well John is noticing and breathing down my neck…but hey don’t let that worry you he will soon by pass me and breathe fire down yours!”

“As I said Joe…” Catherine shrugged wishing she could give him a reasonable explanation for her dark rimmed eyes, wan complexion and so many late arrivals.

“Someone is sick.” He interjected for her, “Someone who is a faceless, nameless figure in your life, or rather not so much in your life, but for a certainty in mine. If I didn’t know you so well, I’d start to believe you make him up, that he is some imaginary friend from your childhood. In fact, for all that I know of you, I still know so little. Cathy when it comes to who you really are, you are like a closed book.” He sighed knowing nothing he said would have her talk and he hated to pry, even when John was sending him daggers through the glass of the partition from across the other side of the room and wanting to know her latest excuse.

“Maybe you should take some time…” He ventured twisting an elastic band around the fingers of one hand by force of habit.

Catherine looked up, the question in her eyes, “some time? Sick leave a vacation? What Joe?”

“A vacation might do you the world of good, Radcliffe.” Joe told her simply, “bring you back to us bright eyed and bushy tailed. Something is eating at you kiddo, bet you haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks. What is it late nights? Boyfriend keeping you up till all hours is he?” Joe winced even as he said it, it was one thing knowing and accepting that Catherine had a secret lover, another speaking of him so literally. It hurt. He loved her too, and it hurt.

“Actually Joe, its none of that, well not quite.” Catherine’s voice seemed to come to him through a fog of pea soup, faraway and unreal like it took every ounce of her strength even to begin to tell him of her troubles.

“You don’t have to explain.” Joe told her acutely aware of the pain in her eyes wishing he hadn’t even started this, had just let her slip in unnoticed, she always gave more than one hundred percent anyway, was often working way past five o’clock when everyone else had gone home, and often way into the late evening come to that. How could he and John be so callous? This woman gave them her all, what did a few minutes after nine matter?

“I do. At least I want to try. Joe, I’ve been having some pretty nasty nightmares.”

He raised his eyebrows at that, “You said it was family trouble. Led me to believe that someone was sick… like an aunt or some one.”

“I know, I know, but I didn’t want to worry you.” Catherine rubbed sweaty palms along the side of her short black skirt something she rarely did Joe was quick to notice. Catherine was always impeccable, and doing such a thing unthinkable, she’d usually get up and go to the washroom, cool herself down there.

Well you’re worrying me now kiddo. Joe thought as he watched her wring her hands together, even fiddling by tucking her pink blouse more firmly into the waistband of her skirt. Joe noticed these things as easily as he’d notice that the telltale gathering of storm clouds would bring rain. He was unaccustomed to seeing Catherine anything but spot on and it was unimaginable that she would literally just throw something on for want of being dressed and presentable. Never had she needed or thought that she had needed to tuck in anything, feeling secure in the knowledge that everything was just as it should be. That before leaving her apartment nothing about her could be called into question. She was always perfect in every way, even down to the last hair on her head being exactly where she expected it to be. Her silence worried Joe further but when he found that she was looking up at him with a wry grin he realised that it had been his silence that had caused hers.

“You ready Joe?” She asked flippantly, and detecting the humour in her tone he sighed with relief. It was as if the sunshine had just peeked out from behind those gathering storm clouds…

His lopsided grin and warm brown eyes sparkled as he nodded, and then the sun went in, the clouds came back and Catherine told him at a low whisper, almost as though walls had ears…

“I think I’m going mad Joe.”

He would have laughed but she sounded so serious. “You believe that?” Wide-eyed Catherine nodded, “I don’t want to do, but it would make a lot of sense. I keep seeing things. Things that aren’t there and voices in my head and a name. And it’s the name that slams into me day and night. Yet on waking, it’s elusive to me, unattainable. It frightens me Joe, it’s not like a dream, more like a vision, a warning…”

Joe could see her fear was real, solid and it frightened him. “Have you ever experienced…”

“Anything like this before? No Joe, not like this. The strange part is I can see nothing that could trigger it, and even if it was to happen it would be impossible.”

“Why? How so?”

At his question Catherine, despite the way she was feeling laughed somewhat mockingly, “because it involves…you…and…” her eyes were sober as she contemplated his reaction.

“And?”

Taking a deep breath Catherine wondered if she had already revealed too much, but what the hell, she was telling him nothing, and if it was only some garish nightmare after all…”my partner.” She added eagerly awaiting his response.

“Your partner? The mystery man? Well I take heart that I get to meet him if only in your dreams, Radcliffe!” Was that distaste she detected? Fury? From Joe? Why?

“Or even that you should dream a dream that contains me.” He said very softly and politely perhaps too politely. “Look Cathy, don’t get me wrong, but this doesn’t sound like a nightmare to me. I take it, have always assumed, that your partner is on witness protection but even so he and I meeting wouldn’t be that bad. I am the assistant DA after all. I can keep a secret you know. It would be a pleasure to meet your mystery man.” He winked at her hoping to ease some of the tension that he detected spreading around the two of them like some sinister cloak blotting out everyone within twenty yards of where he sat with one hip on her desk and she very demurely on her chair behind it.

“If you saw him, you wouldn’t say that.” Catherine gasped smacking a hand to her mouth furious that she had even uttered aloud the words in her head. But too late Joe was looking at her searchingly, “Why what’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing.” The answer was too swift and to Joe sounding too false. He wondered but said nothing as a few memories clambered behind his eyes. Catherine safe when she ought not be safe, walking away unscathed from a case where bodies lay strewn around, throats slashed guts ripped out like some wild animal had been unleashed in the vicinity and she hadn’t even batted an eyelid. Like she had known…

“Look Joe, I’ll take some time off like you suggested,” she grinned at him hoping to find favour in her next request, “Can I start my vacation now?”

They looked at one another for long moments with unfathomable regard, hard to tell what lay behind her eyes, hard to say what lay behind his. Catherine knowing only that she had said more than she had intended and the need to flee was paramount before he asked her something that would completely throw her off her feet.

He nodded, unable to speak, unable to risk opening his mouth. For suddenly there were so many questions and he didn’t want to see or hear her fob him off with excuses or lies or deceit and neither did he want to put her through any of that. He’d always wondered of course, and too many cases had simply been swept under the carpet. It was a wonder that as yet, no one had connected her to those murders, or that she had been present or in the vicinity of every one of them.

Another time, Joe told himself, there’ll be another time…and if her dream came true? What then? Joe shrugged, he’d never liked to believe in such things, and he wasn’t starting now. Even so as he watched her pick up her things and head to the door thanking him and bidding him goodbye, Joe didn’t like the feeling that stole over him as he remembered the little she had said.

What was so bad about his meeting her partner? And why would meeting him… No what had Catherine said? There had been a definite emphasis on seeing him… So why would seeing him not bring pleasure? Joe found that he couldn’t answer the question. And for some indefinable reason someone walked over Joe’s grave and the shiver that ensued frightened him to hell.

A few nights later as Vincent was seeing Catherine home, he was thoughtful. Father had spoken to them both at length on what he deemed as a possible explanation for Catherine’s nightmares and Vincent’s visions, in that one fed off of the other, and although they’d agreed this could be so, Vincent still wasn’t convinced.

“Penny for them?” Catherine asked with a smile as they finally reached the white blue light beneath her apartment building, “You’ve been very quiet ever since we left the home chambers Vincent, is something still bothering you?”

“Yes. Catherine I know you have told me a thousand times, but are you certain that you have no social events planned?”

“Vincent, I’ve checked and double checked my diary and there is nothing I’ve missed. Surely, you aren’t still worried? Father’s explanation was plausible to me. At any rate, I feel certain I’ll get a good night’s sleep from now on. We should have watched that movie Vincent, saved ourselves all of this. After all, it’s not like we haven’t seen that kind of violence before. Perhaps I was being too hasty when I switched it off.” She smiled up at him, hoping he would accept what she was saying.

He smiled and his eyes did brighten but Catherine wasn’t certain he was convinced. “All the same Catherine, if you could keep ever vigilant, and avoid silver ball gowns I for one would be grateful.” It was the sort of request that had warranted humour but when none was forthcoming Catherine knew he was deadly serious and she sighed. “I will Vincent, please try to put it out of your mind. If I have to go anywhere in silver you’ll be the first to know, I promise.”

“If its all the same to you Catherine, if you have to go anywhere in silver I would wish that you did not go at all.” He spoke gravely, his eyes full of apprehension.

“You’re serious aren’t you?” A shudder went through Catherine.

“Deadly. I’m sorry Catherine, but if there is one thing I have learned when it comes to you, is any vision I have is there for a reason. And whatever Father thinks I still believe that this is a warning and even though the visions may be intensified by your nightmares, I still believe that they are happening so that I might help you. My only worry is that I will not reach you in time.” He paused the continued, “Catherine would you do something for me?”

Taking up his hands in hers she replied with eyes wide, “Anything, Vincent you don’t even have to ask.”

“Go and see Jenny, see if she is having any similar dreams about you.”

“I’m sure if she had then she would have been in contact al…ready.” The last word came out slowly as if Catherine had thought of something.

“What is it?”

“Jenny has left a couple of messages on my machine this week asking me to call her. I’ve been too tired to remember till now.” A shiver ran up Catherine’s spine. Accepting Vincent’s visions as fact was one thing, but Jenny’s? Well Jenny had seldom been wrong not that Vincent hadn’t, but she deemed that he was too close to the problem to see things logically.

“Then might I suggest that you go up to your apartment and I’ll meet you on the balcony in five minutes to see what she has to say. If you don’t mind that is?” He asked looking down at her with anxiety in his eyes.

“No, I don’t mind. And if it’ll waylay your fears I’m all for it. See you in five.”

Catherine was playing back the messages when Vincent knocked on the balcony doors less than five minutes later, he stepped into the apartment remembering to remove his boots, and Catherine caught a breathless sight of golden furred legs as he unlaced the boots almost forgetting what she was doing.

“Are you going to ring her?” Vincent asked when he heard that Jenny made no mention as to why she had called, only that she was eager for Catherine to call her back.

Catherine checked her watch, and noting that Jenny should be home by then dialled her number. It rang three times and was picked up. Catherine flipped the knob that would allow Vincent to hear whatever Jenny said.

“Jenny?”

“Cathy that you! Oh, thank God. Girl where have you been? I’ve been worried sick!”

“What do you mean? I’ve been here or at work.” Catherine replied with a hint of amusement.

“Its not funny Cath. You haven’t returned my calls that’s what I meant. So what gives? That boss driving you into an early grave or something?”

“I have been tired Jen, but nothing to do with Joe. I’ve been having some bad dreams that have kept me awake at night.”

There was a pause at the other end and Catherine prompted “Jenny? You still there?”

“Yes, sorry. Look Cath these dreams they wouldn’t be anything to do with a social event would they?” Vincent gasped and Catherine sent him a wary look.

“As a matter of fact yes. Why?”

“Its just that I’ve had some very bizarre dreams about you recently. Cath, does the name Effects mean anything to you?”

“Effects?” Catherine laughed out loud, even as Vincent seemed to pale before her eyes. “No it doesn’t, what sort of Effects? Special Effects?”

“I don’t know Cath. I just see this guy and I hear someone refer to him as Effects. I know it sounds ridiculous, but that’s all I can make out of the name, and at any rate, he responds to it. And he keeps looking at you with murderous intent in his eyes. I’m really worried Cathy. Its like that other time with The Watcher. I wasn’t wrong then was I?”

“No.” Catherine told her friend sombrely.

“Cathy I tell you, I wish you’d stop playing with fire. Why can’t you be the normal suburban housewife like Nancy, I don’t have half the dreams about her that I have about you?” Jenny laughed despite the seriousness of the matter.

“I do appreciate what you are telling me Jenny, and I will take care, but as I don’t know anyone that is referred to by such a name, I can’t really help you. Is there anything else that might help me put a face to the name?”

“Nothing. Its elusive, I haven’t even been shown his face. I can see the back of him though. He has fair ash blonde hair and in my dream he’s wearing a silver suit. Well I guess its grey, but its very light grey.”

“A silver suit and a silver ball gown…” Catherine murmured. Both her friends had got an adversity toward silver. Her eyes danced with merriment.

“Why did you say that? Have you been having a similar dream?” Jenny sounded puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“I never told you about the silver ball gown. So why did you say that?”

“Whoa next you’re gonna tell me I’m wearing a silver ball gown?” Catherine tried to make a joke of it, but Vincent looked so aghast that she sobered up and became serious.

“Actually yes, though I didn’t realise till now. In fact, I can remember more of it now. You are standing in the centre of a huge room, people all around. You look for all the world as if you’re wishing you were anyplace but, and this guy is standing to the left of you picking at a plate of munchies and staring straight at you.”

“If you can see all that Jen, and see him from behind how do you know that he has murderous intent in his eyes?”

“I don’t know. I’m just wondering that myself, cos I never see the front of him. So maybe the murderous intent is in his heart. At any rate Cathy, he is one dangerous man where you’re concerned. So have you any social event coming up?”

“None at all.”

“You say that as though something has prompted you to look already? I get the feeling that there is more to this than you are letting on, care to share it with an old friend?”

Catherine looked to Vincent the question in her eyes and Vincent made a snap decision. When it came to Catherine there were some risks worth taking, and he and Jenny together could be a united front in protecting her. “Ask her to come over, I’ll meet her.” Vincent whispered. Even so, Jenny heard him.

“Who was that?” She asked mystified, “Cath, I thought you were alone.”

“No. Look Jen, can you come over? I know its late but there is someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Give me twenty minutes.” The line went dead and despite everything, Catherine laughed out loud. Jenny never could resist a mystery.

In the twenty minutes it took Jenny to arrive, Vincent and Catherine deliberated as to whether or not they were doing the right thing. Catherine had her doubts but Vincent seemed unnerved at meeting her friend saying it was time that Catherine had someone on her side of the riverbank and who better than Jenny who obviously cared for her a lot.

All too soon a light tapping at the door signalled Jenny’s arrival, and for some reason Vincent remained seated on one of the sofa’s while Catherine called out ‘who is it’, then answered the door.

“This is…” Catherine nervously began to make the introductions as Jenny swept into the room eyes everywhere and the ready smile upon her lips in greeting widened even further the moment she clapped eyes on Vincent.

“You!” She cried cheerfully. “I should have known it would be you!” Vincent and Catherine exchanged puzzled glances.

“Do you know me?” Vincent asked surprised.

“Not exactly, but we have met, well sort of.” Jenny came to stand in front of Vincent as he rose to greet her and she was awed by his size but didn’t find him intimidating as Catherine had surmised she would.

“I was visiting Narcissa when you came to see her and….”

“WHAT!” Catherine exclaimed as Vincent paled before her eyes.

“What? What did I say?” Jenny asked mystified.

“You visit with Narcissa?” Vincent asked stunned.

“Well yes, Narcissa is an old family friend. I’ve often thought that some of her magic rubbed off on me, because it’s since we met that I’ve had visions and that weird kind of stuff.” Jenny told them as if she hadn’t said anything amazing at all.

“Then where do you visit with Narcissa,” Catherine asked while Vincent already knew. There could only be one place if Jenny had seen him there.

A wry grimace spread across Jenny’s face, “Oh, I’m sorry Cathy I can’t tell you. But he knows.” She nodded toward Vincent.

“Do you mean in the tunnels?” Vincent asked.

“Shhh” Jenny scolded looking in Catherine’s direction, then asked of her, “Or do you know about them too?”

“About the tunnels? Yes I do. Look Jen can we sit down, all this is making me feel rather giddy. I had no idea you knew Narcissa.”

“What you know her too? So do you both know of Paracelsus?”

“What’s he got to do with it?” Vincent asked doubtfully.

“I just met him once, when I visited Narcissa. He seemed to be giving her a hard time, but she cackled and ranted and he called her a crazy woman, and it quite made me laugh I can tell you. He swept away with the tail between his legs and boy did he look mad or what?” Jenny giggled remembering, “I sure wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”

“There are some that would say that of me.” Vincent told her sadly.

“Why?” Obviously, Jenny saw nothing wrong in his appearance. “You’re beautiful.” Catherine warmed to her friend’s reply.

“Now let’s get this straight. You know Narcissa and the tunnels, and you’ve seen Paracelsus, but do you know anyone else?” Catherine asked.

“No. Except this one here. Don’t know your name though. Care to enlighten me?”

Vincent held out a hand in greeting, “It’s Vincent and I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance, Jenny.”

“Hi Vincent, same here. So let’s get this straight. You are Cathy’s mystery friend?” She looked from one to the other of them, “Or do I detect that you are more than friends?”

Vincent blushed, Catherine too. And Jenny laughed out loud, “Oh I get it, you’d both like to be more than friends. Say no more, nudge, nudge wink, wink if you get my drift.” And she laughed again embarrassing the pair further still.

“And why not?” Jenny added. “In my opinion, no actually in my dreams you’d make the perfect couple. I thought I only dreamed about you Vincent because of the one time I saw you as I hid behind Narcissa’s curtain when you came to visit, but I know now why in those dreams you were always connected to Catherine. Used to worry me no end that.” She laughed some more, a relieved kind of laughter as the last piece of the puzzle fell into place. Then on a more sombre note went on, “And I bet Vincent, that you are having dreams about Catherine too, am I right?”

“Yes, Jenny you are very astute.”

“Astute my ass! Nothing to it. You came to Narcissa and spoke at length about a vision that you’d had. I’m sorry to have eavesdropped, but you must understand never having seen any one like you before I hung onto your every word. I have a feeling you detected I was there, or that someone was there, because you kept asking Narcissa if she was alone. She replied she was never alone and so fobbed you off. But I think she was afraid that if she told you she had a visitor you might have left and not returned to tell her what troubled you so.”

“My problems are usually related to Catherine, it’s a wonder you never suspected anything when I mentioned her name.” Vincent told Jenny.

“I seldom think of Cathy as Catherine, its reasonable to accept that I didn’t make the connection. Besides, how was I to know that Cathy knew of you? Cathy doesn’t usual mix in the paranormal circles and there are millions of Catherine’s in the world.”

“That’s true. Well you can’t know what a relief it is to know that you have already seen me and that you know of the tunnels, which reminds me, you obviously haven’t been shown the rest of the underground world?”

“No. Narcissa made mention to the fact that other people lived around her. After meeting Paracelsus, I can tell you I didn’t want to meet any of the others if he was anything to go on, but I can’t imagine you mixing with his sort, especially you Cathy?”

“You’re right there.” Catherine agreed with a shudder.

“Other people do live in the tunnels Jenny and you will have to meet them. They are kind people, people who for one reason or another have left the world above for sanctuary. We have children among us too, and Catherine has proved a valued helper of our community. I should like to extend that invitation to you also.”

“I’d like that. I have often wondered what went beyond Narcissa’s realm. Tell me is she well?”

“She is. I visited with her only last week. I wanted to know the reasons for the visions I have been having regarding Catherine. You and I seem to be seeing the same man and I too know that the word Effects is applicable to him.”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking about that Vincent. You remember that remark Catherine made regarding Special Effects? Well what if his name isn’t Effects after all, but rather FX, you know the letters F and X. It might be a nickname or a code name or something. Maybe he’s a spy.”

Vincent pondered that a few moments before finally agreeing, “Yes Jenny you could be right. At least it’s more understandable than Effects, but I still don’t know anyone with those initials.”

“Maybe Joe would.” Catherine said thoughtfully. “He mixes in some unusual circles.” She added with a hint of laughter and checked her watch, it was after eleven, and she knew Joe would be in bed by then. “I’ll call him in the morning, its too late now. Will that be alright?” She then explained that she had taken some leave.

“In that case,” Vincent told her “why don’t you spend the time with us below, and Jenny could come for the weekend and we’ll show her around?”

Jenny jumped at the chance, and as Catherine agreed, it was sealed.

“I am so looking forward to this.” Jenny remarked as she left the apartment an hour later, “You don’t know how long I’ve wished to know where Catherine mysteriously vanished to so often.” All three laughed and when Catherine closed the door behind her friend, she went into Vincent’s arms for the hug she had needed ever since Jenny had arrived.

“Oh Vincent, just to think she knew about the tunnels all along. And you! She’d even seen you before. How wonderful it is to know she could keep a secret like that and not even tell me.”

“Then you are as unique as each other and its good that you are friends. I am so happy Catherine that at last you have someone from your world to trade secrets with.” He kissed her brow.

Catherine sighed her agreement, “And what better person than Jenny.” She whispered with eyes shining bright with happiness. And for the first time in three years, it felt as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

To be continued in part two.