As Soft Wings Unfold Chapter Two Six Weeks Earlier Snow is falling; the park is white, All is quiet, and her world sleeps. Through the softness of the snow and the stillness of the night, under a sky ablaze with stars, sparkling in the snow like crystals, once again I am in her world. And she is here within my arms. The love in her eyes warms the coldest night, And I love her. Snow is falling; my world is white, And all around us only silence, He’s with me now; the night is ours, a thing of beauty that we share. My head is on his shoulder; we dream our dream, I’m safe in the shelter of his arms. The icicles form, the snowflakes fall, Brief hours together go by too soon. The sound of his voice warms the coldest night, And I love him. It had been a long and relentless day. The snow had fallen from early morning, coating Catherine’s world in white, filtering through the minutest of cracks, bordering up against doorways, and filling the streets with its relentless white fury, bringing the city to a grinding halt. Trudging home, her orange duffel coat bright against the snow’s brilliance, Catherine held her briefcase beneath one arm, juggling with its weight as it threatened to slip from her grasp, while her mittened hands were stuffed deep inside her pockets. There had been no taxi’s available until the snowplough had been through, or until the salt sprinklers had been out. It was a fair old walk from the office to her apartment building, yet in some small way Catherine delighted at the inconvenience. As she walked, her head bowed low, her scarf pulled up tight around her mouth, Catherine noticed with gladness the steam rising from the drains below, and turned her thoughts inward, to the safe sanctuary beneath the city streets. His world and hers too. Permanently, if he would allow it. Catherine smiled, her eyes dancing with delight, as she pictured Vincent’s surprise when he came above later and saw the snow. The desire to drop a message through a grating and warn him of the weather was immense, but she was stopped by the thought of how surprised he would be not to know when first he stepped into her world later that night. If only she could be waiting for him. She could witness his surprise, share with him in the delights of this winter wonderland. But by the time Catherine had reached her apartment, venturing out again was the last thing on her mind. A shower tempted her, and shedding her clothing, Catherine made her way to its heat, flicking the central heating button up a notch in passing. The hot water cascaded over her body, and Catherine closed her eyes to the feel, imagining not for the first time, that the trails of scented soap were Vincent’s long fingers running silkily over her body instead. Catherine moaned, clamping down hard on the Bond, lest she troubled him with her imaginings. Keeping her desire from him was always utmost in her mind. She knew how it troubled him. How he would insist that the dream ended before their need for one another grew out of proportion and ended in tears. Stepping reluctantly from the shower cubicle some fifteen minutes later, Catherine rubbed her hair dry vigorously with a pink fluffy towel, after wrapping another towel around her body. Walking from room to room, Catherine lit candles, and switched on the stereo, filling the room with soft music. Pushing her feet into moccasins, she stepped out onto the terrace, the blast of icy air forcing her back inside. She frowned. If it were so cold outside, Vincent would not stay long. He would insist that she’d catch her death, he would set her back inside and he would leave. Tears pricked at the back of Catherine’s eyes. The warmth of her apartment beckoned, yet Vincent would never step inside. Something she presumed, to do with the brightness within, there were no shadows in which to hide. Deep down inside Catherine knew it was more than that. Simply to be inside Catherine’s domain, Vincent was confronted with the impossibilities of mixing their worlds. While Catherine was within his, he could dream the impossible dream. When confronted with the harsh reality of modern living Above, he could no longer hide from the fact that they were too different. From completely different worlds and thus at odds with one another. Vincent wanted no reminders of that, safe within the world of let’s pretend. Dressing into warm clothing fit for outdoor wear, Catherine filled a thermos with hot soup, and warmed crusty rolls in the oven. If she left the doors to the balcony ajar while they sat outside, at least they could benefit from the warmth that was lost to the night air. Next she filled hot water bottles as she heard Vincent’s approach. Within seconds of screwing down the last top, Catherine looked towards the balcony, delighted by the pacing shadow that signified his arrival, and dragging warm blankets with her, she raced outside to the safety of his arms. “Did you love the sight of the snow Vincent?” her eyes danced as she held him. “Oh yes Catherine. I knew that something had changed even before I stepped out from the tunnels. There was a scent like no other, a stillness only associated with a fresh snowfall. It assaulted my senses. And there was a brightness that filled the drainage culvert even before I made the last turn up into the park. My heart hammered painfully in expectation. I am sure that my eyes put the brightest star to shame, the moment my sight took in the snow’s brilliance.” Catherine laughed joyfully, “I wanted so much to be there when you first saw it tonight, but I had to walk home from the office, and I was so cold when I got here.” “It is very cold tonight Catherine. I don’t think I should keep you outside too long.” “No Vincent it’s all right. I’ve planned for that. Look, take these blankets, I’ll only be a moment.” She turned to hurry inside, stopping only briefly. “There, see rolled up beneath the table,” she pointed, “there’s a roll of plastic, lay it down first will you Vincent, it’ll help keep the damp from rising into us.” She laughed gaily, leaving Vincent only to wonder at her delight. A few moments later that delight became apparent when she came out again carrying three hot water bottles, a thermos and a basket of freshly baked bread, smothered in butter. The aroma caught Vincent’s nostrils, and at once a hunger pang surfaced. Catherine heard it and laughed, “I can see you’re a sucker for fresh bread Vincent. Me too. Now we can be cosy and warm and eat well into the bargain.” Vincent chuckled, “It was a very thoughtful gesture.” “Thoughtful my foot!” Catherine laughed, “Devious maybe, but never thoughtful.” Vincent cocked his head to one side in question, leaving Catherine to exasperate, “Vincent, I knew you would insist on leaving the moment you got here, to spare me from the cold. And since you won’t enter my apartment, I’ve decided to bring its warmth and hospitality out here to you.” Vincent smiled feeling somewhat contrite. “You did all this for me?” “Not exactly.” Catherine replied truthfully, pouring them both a mug of hot soup, “I didn’t want you to leave so soon. I did this for purely selfish reasons, just to have you stay.” “I don’t believe you could ever be selfish Catherine.” “To get what I want Vincent. You’d better believe it.” Though her words were filled with strands of humour, something in the way she’d said it made warning bells sound in Vincent’s head. He shifted awkwardly as he sat beside her and with trembling hands took the mug of hot soup that she held out to him, his fingertips momentarily touching hers. Their eyes met and locked, and for several heart-stopping moments, they gazed at one another with an unfathomable longing. A look that each would retrieve and savour from memory later into the night and in the days that followed. Without words, each wrapped within their own thoughts; they ate silently side by side, feeling the hot soup warm them from within out. The thick and cosy blankets were wrapped between the cold brick wall and the warmth of their bodies, and they huddled close, their warm breath fanning the cold stillness of the night air around them. Loved and cosseted they remained there, each within a world of their own, happy in the dream that surrounded them. Happy at just being together. And as he watched Catherine eating, Vincent’s mind was filled with expression. Snowflakes softly brush your cheeks, Resting on your lashes like frozen teardrops Was anything ever more beautiful Catherine Than this deep midwinter night? Snowflakes falling silently all around us , shining crystals against the velvet of the sky Soft white snowdrops covering the blackness of the grass glittering in the moonlight twinkling in the starlight. As though the crystal cavern had elevated to your world. I may never see such beauty again, I may never be as happy again, But tonight Catherine it’s ours to share - The wonder, the beauty, the complete and utter peace, (A world all our own) The magical night enfolded them in its warm embrace, and Vincent had never known such contentment. Many hours later as the first pink glow of sunlight signified the approach of dawn, Vincent shuffled Catherine’s sleeping form into his arms. She did not wake, and carefully he lifted her with him, stepping over the threshold to her bedroom and depositing her carefully onto the bed. He’d done this a thousand times, and never worried. Somehow the sleeping Catherine offered no threat, and entering her apartment in this way carried with it no fear. Tenderly pulling the duvet up to cover her, Vincent bade her a silent farewell. Standing there at the side of the bed, he had never felt so drawn to linger. These past few months, something had begun to change between them. It had been a subtle shift at first. A longer lingering look. A tighter embrace. Actions to take his breath away. And this morning as the pink sky turned to gold Vincent felt torn. Torn to stay behind in her world with her. It became almost unbearable to leave with the receding cloak of darkness back to his home beneath the city streets, and spend the day without her. For many indecisive minutes Vincent lingered, his heart spellbound by her beauty. By the gentle rise and fall of her breast signifying even breathing. He so longed to loose himself in her dreams. For long moments he stood there undecided, his mind filled with unspoken words; ‘If I were in your dreams, Catherine, Would you hold me, love me, in a way I could only imagine? In a way I can only dream. Feelings - which come unbidden - I fear are born of my darkness, Or are they merely born of man? This hunger that fills my heart, these longings that bring me shame - Do they come from the part of me that walks in darkness? Or the part of me that is a man? Catherine, I do not understand why they haunt me, Why they fill my dreams. We share what is ours to share, The tenderness, the gentleness Of our time together. Why do I want more? - When I know that for us there can be no more, Only our love, our togetherness, our Bond. Why do images fill my mind? Images that can never be spoken. Why? When everything I ever wanted, Everything I ever dreamed - Is here in my arms? Perhaps in another life, at another time, There could have been more. But now - all that we have is all that there can be, For us there is nothing beyond what we share Except perhaps in our dreams. And dreams - upon waking - are forgotten forever, And nothing remains, But love. Suddenly the need to lay down beside her was staggering. The need so strong it almost became palpable, and Vincent had to ground down hard upon the rising of his desire, as his breathing laboured and looking down at her, Vincent moaned softly at his rising need, his mind continuing in a sea of unspoken words; To have you near is beyond words - Beyond beauty, And still it saddens me - Still it troubles me. For to hold you - to feel you close - Touches a yearning - A need which I thought time had eclipsed, Until your light re-awakened the memory. My heart is content to rest within your heart, To know the peace your love can bring. But part of me knows no peace in your nearness. I dreamt of a love - so pure and untouched, As gentle as my heart would have me believe. But dreams are clouded by reality, And reality destroys the fabric of illusion - so easily - so cruelly - Until love becomes an aching need That pounds with the beat of my heart. I hide that need, I deny it - to myself - to you - But still it taunts me - In your voice, in your smile. And so I dream and let myself believe That it will suffice to love you with my soul, To worship you with my eyes, Whilst I bid my heart be still, Whilst I bid all peace goodbye. With one last lingering look, Vincent wrenched his gaze away from her, and exited the apartment, leaving his dreams behind as he made his way through the silent snow, back to his own sleeping world beneath the city streets, his heart in tatters. When Catherine awoke some hours later to sunshine streaming through her window, she stretched languidly, slowly remembering the night past in detail. Ooh, that look, the way their eyes had met and held, Catherine shivered with remembrance and longing. There had been something in his eyes that became the mirror to the soul, and for once, for one perfect moment she had been able to read all that was written upon his heart. No, she couldn’t have been mistaken. Such a perfect magical night framed by snowflakes drifting down from the heavens had shown her exactly what she meant to Vincent, and Catherine glorified in that knowledge. Perhaps Vincent was unaware of it, but in that moment she had seen how much he had wanted her. Of how much he loved her. And Catherine hugged herself with delight. Looking at the clock, Catherine wondered if she might go Below. It was Saturday, she had the whole day free, and in fact she hadn’t got around to telling Vincent that she had until Tuesday free also. Two weeks working away had secured her a long weekend to play. Catherine smiled to herself as she remembered Joe’s words. “Two days play Radcliffe. I want to see you back here, bright and bushy tailed nine o’clock on Tuesday morning. You got that?” Catherine had smiled, “Thanks Joe. I appreciate it.” A long weekend free before having to go away again. How could she spend it? She could use it to tidy and dust her apartment. She could use it to visit friends. Or she could use it to relax and unwind. To settle herself down with a good book. Catherine giggled; yes she would do that, at least the good book part, it was in whose company she would do it that brought forth the giggles. She needn’t stay Above to spend the next two days engrossed in that pursuit, need she? Alighting from bed, Catherine hurried across to the window to look out. More snow had fallen, and the streets were still silent. Everything had come to a halt. It seemed unusually quiet this morning though, almost as if everything waited for the bubble to burst. Dressing quickly, Catherine made some hot breakfast and coffee, planning her day with care. For some time the friendship that she shared with Vincent had been changing. If only slowly. Subtle differences were occurring in their relationship. After over three years together they had certainly proven that the relationship was a strong one. And growing stronger by the minute. Catherine smiled warmly. It had started that day of the rock fall, when she had known all that Vincent had meant to her, and she could still see and feel everything so clearly, as if it were yesterday. Vincent had reasoned that her courage had saved his life. Catherine had told him it was love. From that moment on, she couldn’t think back to a time when she hadn’t loved him. It seemed to her that from the very first, even so much as the time he had walked her back to the threshold after those first few days spent Below healing after her attack, even at that time she had loved him. And that love had grown, deeper and more fulfilling, as time had worn on. Then had come that dreadful time a few months back when the dark one had encompassed Vincent in its steely vice and battered his mind relentlessly down in that subterranean world of catacombs, stalactites and stalagmites. That dreadful day when she had feared for him so strongly because this attack had been like no other before, and she had gone willingly into that cave to bring back the man that she loved. It was a time she tried to forget. Vincent had almost been lost to her, but something deep in the recesses of his mind had heard her scream his name and the dark one had left him and slowly Vincent had recovered. Catherine smiled at the remembrance of that occasion. The memory of her kissing him that had acted like resuscitation and that had saved his life. But Catherine often wondered about that dark time and its possible causes. Though Vincent rarely spoke of it, Catherine had her own ideas, knowing how her own frustration at times almost drove her to madness. At least she had the hope that someday it would happen. Vincent however harboured no such hope. She wanted him and loved him so much and now Catherine even refused dangerous assignments, fearful that in being involved in such she would unwittingly draw him to her to save her, and risk being exposed himself. Catherine’s love extended so far now that she would sooner handle relatively boring cases, than have Vincent undertake risks to his own life. And thus she protected him now, for which Father for one was more than grateful. At thoughts of Father, Catherine grimaced. For such a long time the patriarch of the tunnels had thwarted the relationship. Believing that Catherine’s company was just a flash in the pan friendship and that she would move on eventually, much the same as Devin had with all his promises. Now three years on Father had warmed to her, and since the death of her own father, had in many respects taken over that role. Catherine found herself more and more confining in him about her hopes and ambitions, especially if it had anything to do with Vincent. Her musings ended with the dregs of her coffee, and Catherine took the crockery to the sink, washed, rinsed and dried them, before stacking them into the cupboard, and hastily stuffing an overnight bag with all the things she’d need, her intention plain. She would spend the two days below. Perhaps with a bit of luck and a lot of gentle persuasion she could have Vincent succumb to his desires and make all their dreams come true. Walking through the warm amber glow of the tunnels some thirty minutes later, Catherine blew softly onto her hands, warding off the winter’s chill that had bitten through the wool of her mittens and chilled her hands to the bone as she had crossed the park earlier. , This softly inviting light that she had grown to love so well, tampered the chill of the tunnels, fooling the traveller into believing that the light gave off a warmth all its own. Or perhaps it was the joyous thought of coming home to a place of candles and light, or even the anticipation of being enfolded into Vincent’s strong arms, that made her glow all over. She smiled, yes that was the answer for definite. As she walked she thought about the two of them, while through the Bond she beseeched Vincent with all her heart to listen, to know, to understand all that she needed of him. Vincent listen to your heart, let it speak to you of beautiful things, Of things that can really come true, If only you would let yourself believe. If only you would let yourself dream. Take me in your arms so that I may know the nearness of your body, so that I may know the feeling of your love - Close to me, touching me. Let me lose myself in the depths of your embrace, In the strength, the beauty, of your body, As sighs, that echo with longing, brush through my hair, touching my soul, Soft as a whisper on the breath of God. How could I refuse your love? How could I refuse the beauty that you offer me? A beauty that lives forever in a heart where love abides. Touch me with your wanting, touch my body with your need, Let all rational thought be lost to the beating of your heart, To the glory of your desire, Only then will I be a part of you, Only then will you live in me. For here in your arms I am lost in the power of your love, A love too deep, too beautiful, even for tears. Here in your arms I am lost to a world of contentment, A world beyond imagining, For here in your arms I am lost in you. Her mind very much filled with her thoughts and that of concentration in the hope that Vincent would hear her words, she slowly stilled as rounding a final corner just prior to the main hub, Catherine felt that the tunnel ahead was filled with a presence. His. Catherine’s heart raced. He’d come to meet her. How could he not? The words of her heart had echoed alongside his, and Vincent had been led spellbound towards her. Once he would always have met her. He knew her every movement. But of late, her desire had plainly transmitted itself to him, and he had grown fearful. Now he allowed her to come to him. But this day, this morning, still with the desires that burned fresh in his mind, he had been summoned to her, without thought, without restraint, nothing, no power on earth could have stopped him. His eyes luminous in the dark shadows watched as she walked toward him, her words touching a chord deep within. “Vincent.” Just one utterance of the singular, his name borne upon her lips had him quivering for something tangible, yet something out of reach, beyond the baseness of his imaginings. “Catherine.” her name upon his lips did no less for her. She positively melted at the sound. His rich velvety voice rippling through her, making her squirm with longing. For long moments they gazed upon one another. The gentle tapping of the underground world fading into the distance. There was nothing but the two of them suspended in time. Each held and expelled a breath, telling themselves that they had to breathe. Catherine tightened her thighs together, feeling a sudden rush of desire that she could not control, travel down from the pit of her stomach. Vincent felt and identified with the feeling. His eyes pools of dark desire seemed to beckon her forwards. Unaware his breathing had accelerated, his own limbs jellied, and a moan erupted from his soul, bringing with it the need to hide, to run, to flee, anything to escape the desire of her eyes and the call of her body. Instead he stood rooted, as Catherine approached, reaching him to stand face to face, without words, without any vocal expression. Vincent could see the burning need, feel its vibrations within her. A fear mounted up as if on wings of eagles and swept through his entire being as he stood gazing down at her breathlessly. If he had doubted the changes till now, he could no longer deny them again. They were there. So apparent, he could taste them, touch them, and oh, how he longed to touch them. Again her name left his lips, stilted, proceeded by a tremor, “Catherine. Are you well.” Dropping her gaze Catherine nodded, “Yes.” “Why are you here?” For the first time Vincent noticed with disapproval her overnight bag and fear seared through him. “I forgot to tell you....” Catherine began licking her suddenly dry lips. Had she forgotten? Of course not. It was just that to have brought it up last night would have broken the spell that had bound them. Vincent was looking at her intently, “What did you forget to tell me, my Catherine?” Catherine swallowed with difficulty. Was that Vincent? His words so deliciously tantalising? The words of her reply tripped breathlessly over one another, “I...forgot to ...tell you...” she stopped, unwilling, or unable to say another thing. Suddenly the whole situation brought forth something frightening. Catherine was stunned. What was it? Why did she feel such unease? She wanted this man beyond all else, why then did she feel such fear? Suddenly it came to her! She could feel him! This knot of fear that unwound and unleashed its restraint pounded alongside her own heart, causing her to stumble, clutching the sleeve of his cloak for support, her eyes never leaving his face, “Vincent! I can feel you!” As soon as she had said it, the feelings were cut short, almost as if a door had slammed shut in her face! Disbelief warred with anger, “How long have you known?” she demanded. “Why Vincent. Why?” with clarity the truth rang out. The probability that she had always been able to share that part of the Bond was beyond words. “You’ve always shut me out! Vincent why?” Her eyes pained him, “I did it to protect you.” he whispered softly, his heart aching. “To protect me? Or to protect yourself?” Vincent said nothing, his pain evident now by the deep furrows in his brow. “How could you encroach upon the rights of another that way? Don’t I count? Don’t my feelings mean anything to you?” Catherine stamped her foot and for a split second Vincent was reminded of an indignant horse, and almost laughed. His mouth twitched at the corners, which Catherine was quick to notice. “So you find this amusing do you. Well I don’t! How dare you Vincent. How dare you presume that I needed protecting from your feelings. We promised to never withhold the truth Vincent, to have no secrets between us. Yet you have seen into the furthest reaches of my soul, and never allowed me the honour of knowing your own.” “I am an unknown entity Catherine. Some things deep within my soul are best not uncovered.” Catherine bit her lip, tugging at the skin mercilessly, her anger subsiding. “So what you have allowed me to feel is an offshoot of that is it?” “What do you mean?” “Your fear. That over-riding knot of fear that I felt back then. Why Vincent? Is it me that you fear so much.” Very cleverly Vincent saw that Catherine had sought to thwart his answer. She knew he feared himself, hadn’t he told her so, so many times? Yet did he fear her also? Perhaps it was just the unknown that he feared? “I don’t know.” he answered truthfully. Catherine relaxed, her mouth once again softening into a smile. “Vincent can I ask you something?” He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling, “Is it legal?” Catherine burst into laughter. Such an answer from him was the least she had expected. “Perhaps not.” she told him truthfully when her laughter had subsided. “Perhaps it isn’t even polite to ask it.” she hesitated. He waited, breathlessly. “Vincent...” she tried again, the words stuck in her throat, and he came to her rescue, “Perhaps these words are best left unsaid Catherine, if they make you so uneasy.” Catherine nodded, “For now yes.” “You will bring them up some other time?” “Oh yes most definitely. When the time is right, but not now.” Oh yes, she promised herself, when the time was right she would ask him again the burning question. For long moments silence loomed between them, Catherine found it impossible to speak. Vincent finally broke the silence. “Shall we go back to the beginning Catherine?” Quietly composed Vincent motioned to her overnight bag. “Oh that.” Catherine had found her voice, “Joe’s given me a long weekend off work, I don’t have to be in until Tuesday. I hoped that perhaps you’d let me spend them with you. Here Below.” she whispered the last two words. Vincent reached for her bag, “Let me carry it for you.” but Catherine hesitated, “I don’t want to cause you pain Vincent. If you’d prefer that I went back Above I’ll go.” It was true he had not allowed her to share the Bond, to let her know his feelings. And if he was on his guard he could avoid any slip-ups in that direction ever again. And surely he could tolerate two days of Catherine’s company? “I want you to stay.” he told her truthfully, his velvety voice easing her turmoil. Catherine hesitated, “Vincent?” “Yes.” “Can I ask you something?” Vincent smiled, “That same something as before?” “Yes and no, well partly actually.” “You know you can ask me anything Catherine.” He spoke softly, belying the nervousness that he felt to hear her ask the question. Catherine licked her lips, glancing away, summoning the courage. “Do you…love me Vincent?” Vincent drew in a sharp breath. He had not expected this. He didn’t know how to reply. There was too much resting upon his answer. Too many things he was not yet ready to face, if ever he was. His silence worried Catherine. She could see the fight within him, and her heart cried out to ease his pain. “I’m sorry Vincent I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. Forget I asked.” She walked forwards, around him, and onwards, leaving him to follow meekly. Her heart heavy. The silence enfolded them in its steely grip. How could he forget that she had asked? And how could she forget that he had been unable to answer? *** *** *** It wasn’t the question that had troubled him. No not the spoken question. It was the unspoken words, the ones that Catherine’s heart had uttered but her mouth had not that troubled him the most. For Catherine knew that he loved her. He had shown her many times that he did, and did he not promise her father that he would love and protect Catherine until his last breath? No, that he loved her was not the issue here. The issue rested on those unspoken words, the ones her heart had uttered. For as her mouth had formed the words, his heart had heard her heart’s echo. ‘Do you want to love me Vincent?’ Vincent knew why she had withheld the full question from him of course. To spare him the pain of answering. Yet said or unsaid the outcome was the same, he knew the import behind her question, and the fear that prevented him from forming an answer. Silently they walked through the amber glowing tunnels. Catherine just a little way ahead, until Vincent reached out a hand clasping hers, halting her progress. His eyes haunted, he gazed down into her face, “Perhaps this isn’t such a good idea Catherine.” he told her adding, “You’re staying Below these two days.” Catherine drew in a ragged breath, nodding “Now I am almost here, at least let me see Father?” she asked. “Of course.” They continued on again in silence, but Vincent continued to hold her hand. The contact brought him relief mixed with pain, longing, desire, and hunger. Emotions he found unnerving, yet he was reluctant to break contact as if drawing comfort from her. As they entered the main hub, all was quiet. Vincent caught her questioning glance; “They’ll be in the kitchen. Its dinner time, are you hungry?” Catherine smiled. It had become a long-standing joke with them. She was always hungry, that hunger transmitting itself to him, echoing within his own members. Once Catherine had joked without thinking, ‘God help you if I’m ever eating for two Vincent.” those words had frozen between them, their implication too deep for words. Catherine had regretted them instantly, but could not take them back. Now they swept through her mind eager to remind her. Catherine blushed; Vincent’s movements became stunted signifying that he too had remembered. Gazing at one another Catherine waited for Vincent to speak. He did not disappoint her. Always the same reasons arose when this memory came to mind. “You are wasting your life with me Catherine.” He spoke quietly, “You should be Above living your life. Your heart yearns for the things unseen. There are children waiting to be born....Above.” Catherine stubbornly as always refused to listen, usually denying his words, this time silent, not trusting herself to speak. Her heart did yearn for the things unseen. Unseen to the world that was. To her friends, to her colleagues, but not to her heart or to her mind. Those children waiting to be born that Vincent spoke of, were very much a part of her dreams. Golden haired, blue eyed children with cute feline faces like that of their father. Her friends would be horrified if they knew. Perhaps Vincent would be too. Vincent was watching her, expecting a response. Catherine gave him one he did not expect. “My life is no longer Above Vincent. My life is here with you. Those children that are waiting to be born are with you. If I have to wait for you until I’m old and grey I will wait, only remember Vincent that old people can’t have babies.” Vincent felt his mouth drop open but was powerless to stop it. He could not believe he had heard right, especially as Catherine was heading towards the kitchen and calling after her, “Come on Vincent I’m starving.” almost as if she hadn’t of spoken words that had suddenly turned his whole world upside down. *** *** *** “You’re unusually quiet this evening” Father commented as Vincent toyed with the food upon his plate. Father was concerned. Generally when Catherine came to stay after a long absence, Vincent monopolised her allowing no one else a look in. Tonight it was almost as if she wasn’t there. Looking across at Catherine Father’s eyes begged an answer. None were forthcoming. Whatever it was certainly wasn’t about to be disclosed by Catherine then. She appeared her usual self, as if nothing untoward had happened, but Vincent’s behaviour bothered him. Had they argued? Perhaps Vincent was perturbed about Catherine’s coming to stay for a couple of days. Father knew how her presence troubled him. Maybe that was it. “So Catherine two whole days off from work, what are you going to do with all those hours?” “It’s all arranged Father.” Mary intervened. “Catherine will spend her evenings with Vincent just as usual, and her days with us. Rebecca needs more candles, Elizabeth wants to show Catherine her latest ‘canvas’ and I would like time to engage in some stimulating conversation for a change.” Father was glad to see that Mary’s words had brought a chuckle from Vincent if nothing else. He was pleased to note that the tension Vincent had displayed was quickly dissipating. Was that perhaps relief he detected? Perhaps Vincent was relieved to hear that Catherine would not be thrown into his exclusive company these next two days after all. Catherine’s next words confirmed it. Looking from Mary to Rebecca and back to Father, giving Vincent just a customary glance, Catherine told them, “Actually, if Vincent agrees, I should prefer to spend the next two days with him. You see, next Friday I have to go away again.” She allowed for a response. Vincent looked up and watched her warily. Again the look concerned Father. “I may be gone for as long as a five weeks.” Catherine went on hardly daring now to look at anyone. “When I return I have been promised two whole weeks holiday for good behaviour,” she attempted a laugh, “ I can spend time then engaged in other pursuits. But these two days, well...” she left it unfinished. It all depended on Vincent anyway. Mary and Rebecca laughed, “We get the picture,” they nudged one another, “Having just spent two weeks apart from Vincent, and going away again so soon, we know when were not wanted don’t we?” they giggled hopelessly, making Catherine and Vincent blush. “And these five weeks away Catherine, will they be dangerous?” Catherine’s mouth formed into a grimace. “No, not dangerous Father. Trying probably, heart rending definitely. I have to interview a child. An abused child and I have to admit I’m not looking forward to it. Not that I don’t want to help her, I do, it’s what I might learn from her that I don’t know if I can cope with. The child is three years old going on four I think.” Catherine fought back the tears. Glancing up, she saw tears in everyone’s eyes. Father cleared his throat, “Then these two days with us you must spend in a relaxing pursuit, may I suggest reading perhaps, listening to music, something that will build you up to be able to tackle this assignment. And you know Catherine, don’t you, that our hearts go with you?” Catherine nodded, “Thank you Father.” “Catherine.” for the first time Vincent spoke, “this child, if she should need sanctuary...” he looked at Father for confirmation. Father nodded, picking up from his son, “Yes Catherine it goes without saying, if this child needs a place to stay where she will find peace and safety, you know you can always bring her here?” Catherine nodded, “Thank you Father. Unfortunately there would be too much red tape. Being out of state, and the authorities involved, it is highly unlikely that the child will be released into my care, and if she were, I would be in serious trouble if I were to ‘lose her’. However, with your permission, I should like to tell her about your world. Not where it is, no not that, but about the love and the peace you have here. And build her up with a belief that there is someplace she could go if the need arose in the future.” Father nodded, “Yes, tell her. Make her believe that all is not lost. That she can escape. Give her your number, let her call you if she should ever run away from home, and then you can bring her here.” Mary looked startled, “Father I cannot believe you are condoning kidnapping.” “It wouldn’t be kidnapping Mary. This child needs sanctuary for goodness sake. If she can’t find it from her parents who can she find it from?” Catherine was nodding. “Yes I agree. Parents should see their children as an inheritance from God, as precious gifts. All too sadly many don’t. Many see children as a life sentence and treat them as prisoners. You know what I wish?” Having everyone’s undivided attention, Catherine went on, “I wish that I could collect together all the street children everywhere, all those in orphanages and in care, and bring them here Below. This has to be the finest place on earth for caring for children. I only wish I grew up here.” “Then you and Vincent would have been children together, and would have grown up together, and then there would have been no problems.” Mary spoke as if to herself, blushing scarlet when she realised she had voiced her opinion. Vincent looked hard at Mary, before glancing at Catherine. He said nothing. But Mary got the distinct impression his mind was filled with possibilities. Catherine yawned. Trying to stifle it behind a hand. “Would you like to take a nap my dear.” Father asked noticing. Catherine nodded, “I think jet-lag is catching up with me. Thank you Father.” Father nodded, “Vincent if you have finished playing with your food, perhaps you might like to escort Catherine to the guest chamber.” Vincent blushed, and rose at once, silently offering Catherine his hand, and the pair exited the kitchen leaving behind a hushed and very bemused audience. “Oh my” said William, “Whatever is happening there?” Father scratched his chin thoughtfully, “I’m not certain William, did you noticed how quiet Vincent was?” Without waiting for a reply he went on, “I think I shall have to speak to that son of mine later, something is obviously not as it should be.” *** *** *** Later as Catherine slept soundly, Vincent drew his knees up to his chin deep in thought and watched her. Arriving back here after lunch, neither of them had said much. Catherine had curled up upon the big bed, and Vincent had drawn the covers over her, watching as her eyes gently closed and she drifted off into sleep. He could feel her weariness. It washed over her in waves, and he would have loved to have gone to his own chamber to rest except his mind was filled with chasing thoughts, brought about by Catherine’s earlier words. Around and around his head they chased themselves relentlessly, until Vincent was able to get his jumbled thoughts into some sort of order as he watched Catherine’s body slumber on in dreams; All we have are dreams, Vincent’s heart whispered as he watched her closely. He felt immensely sad that dreams would be all that they would ever be able to share. He wished that there was more he could give her but he knew that would be impossible, I can give you no more, I know you willingly accept our fate, but the guilt still haunts me, For your heart cries out for a happy life, And my heart longs to make it so. The better part of who I am Tells me I should leave your life, Let you find someone to be part of, Someone who can walk with you in the sunshine, And give you children of your own. Yet a part of me I cannot control Prays our dream will suffice for you. I am tortured by my selfishness, By my need to have you near, By my envy of those who could give you everything that you deserve. What will we do? Perhaps the only path for us to take Is to listen to our hearts, And whatever comes, whatever happens Let fate decree our course. Closing his eyes, Vincent leaned back against the wing of the chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him, and finally allowed himself to drift off into dreamless sleep. *** *** *** To be continued in chapter three>