As Soft Wings Unfold Chapter Four Coming down the steps to his chamber Father paused. He’d more than expected to find Vincent there. He hadn’t seen anything of his son all day and had already looked inside Vincent’s chamber, then through to the bathing pool that they both shared, through to the kitchen area and back to his own chamber, and Father was concerned. Catherine had been away before, many times for long periods of time, but Vincent wasn’t handling this parting terribly well. In fact Father had never known him to be so…distant. Yes that was the word. Oftentimes Vincent would be together with Catherine in the Bond, but Father knew those looks, those expressions his son wore when he was dwelling deep inside himself. The way he had seen Vincent lately drew no comparison to those other times. This was different and with Catherine away for at least another two weeks Father worried how Vincent might continue to cope. There was another thing too. Unless someone else had passed one on, Father knew that he had not passed any letters to Vincent from Catherine during this latest absence of hers and that too was most unusual. That Catherine had not written to his son troubled him very much. As Vincent so obviously didn’t want to be found, and as Father was determined to find him, he made his way to the chamber of the falls assuming here he would find Vincent. He was right. Vincent sat his back propped against a wall staring out at the immense fall of water, while idly caressing the china rose that Catherine had given to him. He did not hear Father’s approach and looked up startled when the older man spoke. “Vincent, is something troubling you?” On his feet in an instance, Vincent helped Father into the chamber and encouraged him to sit down by his own place, then he sat back down again. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Father told him well aware that his son had not yet spoken. “And now you have found me.” Vincent half smiled, “Was it important?” “No. I just hadn’t seen you all day. I wondered if something might be troubling you?” “Nothing more than ever there is.” Vincent replied softly. “Catherine?” “Yes Catherine. I miss her Father.” “I had noticed. It’s been a long separation Vincent, especially as she hadn’t been back long before going away again. Perhaps you should concentrate on the two weeks holiday Joe has promised her off when she returns this time." Suddenly Vincent heard something and raised a hand while tilting his head, “Listen Father!” Vincent could hear a message on the pipes, “Someone is looking for you now, it seems you are needed in the hospital chamber.” “Oh Lord yes, I need to give Peter a hand with the supplies, I’d forgotten he was coming. Will you be coming back with me?” “No Father I will stay awhile yet, I have more thinking to do.” “Whatever it is Vincent, whatever the problem remember that Catherine loves you, we all do.” “Yes Father I know. Thank you.” Vincent helped his father to his feet, brushed the dust from off his clothes and handed him his stick, “Go with care Father.” They embraced and kissed before Vincent settled himself down again and listened while Father’s footsteps receded away. When he was alone again, Vincent resumed his thinking. Earlier he had almost convinced himself that it was time to stop being selfish and think of Catherine’s future. The words she had spoken to him about having his children kept clamouring to be heard but he did not want to hear them. He knew only that Catherine had needs and desires and that he could not fulfil them. He had to let her go, had to make her see that the way ahead would hurt them both but the break had to be made and for their own sanity neither should see the other again. With tears gathering in his eyes, Vincent made himself agree to this decision, for really there was nothing else to be done and believing he had at last found his way, Vincent stood up, and walked with a heavy heart back towards his chamber. Climbing into bed some time later Vincent felt he knew the way ahead, and allowed a little of what he was feeling to wing its way to Catherine’s heart in the belief that he could prepare her for all he had to say. However Catherine’s whispering heart surprised him with its answer. The sadness I feel (from you) is all encompassing, It holds my very being in its icy hand I feel an emptiness, A fear of this sadness that consumes me. A despair tells me the dream has died The bond is broken. In my aloneness I reach for you . The keeper of my dreams You hold out your hand Touching my fingers I speak your name and I feel your answer Invisible arms encircle me Your breath softly brushes my cheek Warmth and strength flow through me Dispelling the sadness and the fear. Through your gentleness posses me Take my heart and hold it next to yours, Lest I fear this world may break it Let your love fill my heart and mind, Through a bond that will last a lifetime And a dream that will never die. When Vincent awoke in the morning he was surprised to feel a kind of peace wash over him. Catherine may not have written him a letter, but last night she had responded so strongly to his earlier convictions that she had entered his heart while he slept and had filled his mind with words that even now he could remember clearly. They were words that he may have used to her on another occasion and he identified with them clearly. Try as he might he wasn’t alone in this. Not only that but the expression of those words touched a chord in his heart. For some reason Catherine needed him, his love and affection. She was hurting. He could feel it so strongly, and he wondered as to the reason. He could feel no love in her this day for a third person, only sadness. And yesterday he had felt a sudden fear radiate from her that had distressed him greatly. Now part of him glorified in believing that the love directed toward another these past few days had altered and that her heart had returned to him. The other part of him wanted to reach out to her and encircle her in his arms, to comfort her in his firm embrace. He felt almost sickened by the distance that prevented them this, and wished he could contact her. Suddenly, he didn’t know why, but once the idea sprang to mind he wondered why he had never thought of it before. He could write to her! He knew the hotel where she was staying, and he could write to her there. Joyous he hurried from his bed to his writing bureau longing to put all he felt onto paper. Dearest Catherine, What can I say to you? Vincent expelled a breath of humour. Those words were the very ones Catherine had spoken long ago when he had returned her to the threshold at the foot of her apartment building. He went on; My mind has been full of the things that you said to me the last time we were together... Vincent paused. How could he continue with this? His chaotic emotions could not be placed into words upon paper. It was impossible. He picked up the sheet of paper, and screwed it into a tight ball. No, whatever he had to say to Catherine he would do so to her face. There were still things he had to sort out in his mind. They were still a long way from working things out between them. For all his resolve, he still held onto his fears. And until he had something to tell her, it was best he tell her nothing at all. Replacing the pen to its place, Vincent dressed quickly, donning his boots and cloak. He needed to get away, far beneath the home chambers into the darkened tunnels of the subterranean world, for only there could he find the truth, and only there could he face the dream. Nearer the home chambers most of the tunnels had been cleared of sharp rocks that stuck out from the tunnel walls, but lower down and in the dark Vincent had to take care. Large outcrops of rock threatened to knock him out if he didn’t duck at the required moment. Thus his pace in the darkness was slow, affording him more time for thinking. As he walked along the all-consuming darkness reminded him of walking through the park on a very dark night and he began to let his mind drift to how it felt whenever he went Above. I love the night The deep black velvet of the night The beauty of the park – The grass changing colour in the shadows of moon and cloud. The city is brighter than day But the city I know is dark There cloud-filled heavens hide the stars The mists rise above the streets So like the mists winging gently through the tunnels. I am part of the night I am one with the night One with the darkness that envelops me, Enfolding me in invisible arms, protecting me. The daylight will never be mine But I am content to live through the night For out of the night I found you And only at night can I hold you And no day could hold a happiness more complete. But, thought Vincent, what if the night alone was not needed to hold his love. What if the possibility was placed before him that he could hold his love during the daylight hours, but not in her world, no never that. But here, down in his world among the rocks and the waterfalls and the whispering gallery. What then if that was possible? Could he really grasp hold of the promise that Catherine held for him in her eyes? Walking onwards, Vincent continued to let his mind drift with expression; Catherine, Let me know that your heart believes All that I see in your eyes. Should I dare to dream that you could really love me? And all that I am? Not wholly a man – Yet with a man’s heart, a man’s need To hold you. To touch your beauty, your softness To give myself completely to you. For all my life and beyond Catherine, I long for your touch. And yet I fear its power As I fear myself, my longings, Only the night has wings And only in dreams can we truly be together With nought but love between us But if dreams were reality Would you be afraid? If I were to speak the thoughts I feel Would you be ashamed that one such as I Could wish to be loved – To be touched by your beauty, To be held by your softness? Would you turn from me? From the darkness within that gives life to these thoughts? That is something that I dare not imagine. The reason my dreams cannot be reality, The reason I must live with this silent pain – This helpless yearning – That can only exist within the depths of my dreams, Within the softness of the night, Whilst I, Catherine, my love, Will dream of a dream that cannot come true, And lose myself forever in the promise of your eyes. For some reason Vincent felt like weeping. The sadness galloped over him, and he ached for the comfort of Catherine’s arms. It came to him suddenly that Catherine was right, they were on the threshold of a new world. Before it had been his world and her world, now something had changed. It was becoming their world, a world of their own making. A world that they could share together. With his back to a wall Vincent allowed his body to slide to his haunches to lean against a smooth part of the rock and dwelt deep inside himself. The Bond as ever tingled deep within and he could feel the steady beat of Catherine’s heart alongside his. She was peaceful now, possibly sleeping. The anguish and the sorrow of the past few hours had left her. What he would give to be laying down beside her now and holding her tenderly in his arms. On occasions he had experienced this wonderful joy. When she had been ill or grieving for her father after his sudden death, when she had needed the comfort of his strong arms around her. If he allowed himself to believe, he could be anything. He could be the man that she saw in him. With the darkness surrounding him he could not see his hands, but he could feel the fur and he could feel his fangs with the length of his tongue, even the darkness would not lie to him. Yet Catherine had accepted all those things, and still she wanted him. If only he could see everything through her eyes. Slowly in that dark place he brought everything to mind, everything that they had ever shared. He had to change his feelings toward her. It was what she wanted, and he could not live without her. If they stood on a threshold now to another world he had to find the courage to step through it with her willingly. Catherine was every bit a part of this destiny as he himself was. When he thought about that hard enough he realised that Catherine had accepted long ago her part in all of this, and gladly too. Realisation of that made him feel so strange. If he could not deny their destiny, or if he could not run from it, then he must face it, for there were endless possibilities for him if only he could accept them. For the first time in all of his life Vincent began to climb down the other side of the mountain. It seemed that it had taken everything he had to get up the one side to reach the pinnacle, but now he had, and from where he stood the way was clear. Why hadn’t he seen it before? He couldn’t believe how clear it had become. True he still had his fears, but together they would get past them. Catherine was not afraid and neither should he be. His heart joyous Vincent believed. He was free. Free to love, free to realise his dreams, and if he thought he ached for Catherine’s return before it was nothing to how he felt now. Though he still did not imagine that he could ever make love to her, because of the savagery of the ever-present dark one the way ahead was brighter. And in an instant he unleashed his restraint upon the Bond and sent all his emotions winging their way through to his love. Then closing his mind off to his turbulent thoughts for the last time he allowed the Bond to enfold and guide him to a place where dreams can only come true. *** *** *** Back at her hotel Catherine mulled over the day’s activities. It had been a long and trying day, and any application she made to take Rachel out in future, she could well see would be refused. After the police had escorted her back to the home, and had satisfied themselves that Catherine was in charge of the child they had left her to face the music. And all Catherine could do was stand and accept the ticking off that Dr Johnson gave her, well aware that Molly Cook was gloating in the background. Why the woman despised her so, Catherine did not know, but after today she would gladly never to have looked at the woman again, but for Rachel and the promise she had made her. Whether Rachel went Above or Below was the least of the problem. The main cause of her distress was knowing that she would now need to put in an application to foster Rachel in order to be able to take her away at all, and that in itself brought about it’s own responsibilities. To provide for a child such as Rachel Catherine would need to prove that she had a home and an income coming into that home to keep a child. But if she were to spend time with the child she couldn’t be at work, and if she didn’t work she wouldn’t be bringing in an income. The circle was vicious. Now if she had a husband or a partner that supported her things would be easier, and as wonderful as it would be to have Vincent marry her, she knew that still was not the answer. Catherine worried well into the night about the problem eventually feeling so tired that her head and heart ached and she lay herself down for some much needed sleep hoping that things would seem much brighter in the morning. In her dreams she could see Vincent. Somewhere at the back of her mind, she felt guilty that she had paid him so little attention these past few weeks. The week away before she had met Rachel he had been on her mind constantly, but now Rachel’s needs overrode her own. This night though thoughts of him were strong, stirring her awake in a dreamy kind of way, the Bond thrummed vibrantly with life telling her that Vincent was thinking about her deeply. Catherine smiled in her sleep, she had rather left him with an ultimatum, and wouldn’t normally have done so, but things were changing between them, yet it seemed that only she moved forwards out of the ever spinning circle that had previously wrapped its soft wings around them. Catherine longed now for the moment when those wings would unfold and soar into the sky taking her and Vincent into the unknown with courage and trust. She loved him so much, and nothing about him held any fear for her. In her dreams she could see the perfect life that they would lead if only he would allow it. She would make him allow it! Deep down inside Catherine allowed her subconscious to reach out to him. She had to make him see that with love anything was possible. Vincent, do not be afraid of yourself – Of your feelings. You could never hurt me – You must know that. Please trust yourself. Love is not always gentle. There are other feelings too – Strong, violent feelings, Feelings that can make you cry with their power. ,br> Don’t you know how many times I have wanted so much more Than to be held in your arms? Than to only imagine the feeling of you Do not ask to be forgiven – There is nothing to forgive. To desire, To be overwhelmed by desire, Is much a part of love As the peace I find with you’ I love everything about you – Your gentleness, your strength Even the power of your darkness Accept your wants, your needs As part of the man that you are The man I love And one day, perhaps sooner than we know We will pass through the fear Through the darkness – Into the light. Deep inside herself Catherine spoke the words, and felt them being absorbed by him. A great joy filled her that he was not blocking her off from him as once he may have done, afraid to hear her inner heart whisper. The delight was such that it seared through Catherine starting her awake, and she lay for some moments, a tranquil smile upon her face, her heart bursting with love and happiness. Vincent was letting her in! He was absorbing her deep into his heart, and that to Catherine could only mean one thing, that he was at last dwelling on her words and allowing their connection to bind them together in a way he had never before allowed. The Bond wrapped its gentle tendrils around the two of them and Catherine felt it so strongly that she wanted to weep with gladness. The final two weeks that she had to be away stretched ahead into infinity, and Catherine groaned, for the desire to rush home to Vincent’s arms had never been so strong. She felt so happy! Yes things were definitely changing she could feel it deep inside. Was it possible that those soft wings were at last unfolding? *** *** *** Every bit in tune with Catherine Vincent delighted in her sudden response to his delving deep inside the Bond. Almost on another plane the two of them flew in perfect precision, and yet even so far away, he felt her close. The feeling warmed him, though the ache was unbearable in the knowledge that they were as yet two long weeks apart. Still something this night had bound them as nothing else ever had. Their destiny had linked them, but the Bond had wrapped around them like swaddling bands, holding them tightly together, and Vincent could feel that from now on nothing he said to Catherine against a union would have any impact. This night, the Bond had united them, and all the fight against it had drained him. It was a wonderful feeling that swept over him now. He was free. Free from the chains that had bound him to a life of aloneness. And now he was no longer alone. Peace washed over and through him like the gentle lapping waves of the sea, and for the first time in his life Vincent was complete. The way ahead was wonderfully, wonderfully bright. And for the first time in his life Vincent felt as though some great wings within his heart were unfolding and freeing him from his fears, ready to soar into endless flight and into a wondrous dream come true with his Catherine. He wanted to shout out that wondrous feeling from the rooftops, so happy was he and he contemplated the way ahead with no more doubts and no more fears, just glorious endless happiness with the woman that he loved. Deep inside his heart was full of expression, words that just had to be said to describe the way that he felt, not knowing that similar words had entered Catherine’s mind just hours earlier; Soft wings unfold – And I see beyond the mists, feel beyond the pain I see love reaching out to me And I can no longer deny it No longer resist it For that love is my life, my reason for being. Soft wings unfold – Recalling memories of a life without love – The life that I was born to inherit – Until that wondrous night…until you. You have brought me a dream beyond imagining – A dream that only now I dare take in my hands and enclose . Soft wings unfold – Caressing words not yet spoken, lips not yet touched. Once words were all we had – all we could deserve We saw the sunrise in the mirror pool And asked for no more – until now – Until the emptiness of our words echoed in our hearts. Soft wings unfolding – Closing around us. Tightening – enveloping Hearts and bodies. Now there is naught but love between us – And we are one. *** *** *** He didn’t know why it was, and he wasn’t about to rock the boat in asking, but Father could only rejoice in the changes that had come back with Vincent during his time below. For the first time since he had known his son, he felt that there was something complete about him, and watching him was a real pleasure. He seemed to give off an aura that spelt happiness with a capital H. That he still missed Catherine was obvious in the very many occasions that Vincent spent by himself in deep thought, but when Vincent came away from those thoughts now, it was not with the sadness that once settled about him. It seemed that Vincent now gained strength from the moments he spent dwelling inside the Bond, and Father could only marvel at that. As always Father followed the papers, and he was quite unprepared to find a column which spoke of the case that Catherine was working on out of state. It told him that the case had been a traumatic one, and that the reporters would be out in full force for the final day, which Father noted was the following day. He read also that a television crew would be at the court to bring the case into the homes of the millions of people who had been following it through their local newspapers. Father showed the report to Vincent, “I think we should find a helper Vincent and watch it on their television tomorrow night. You might see Catherine on television, and I think that would be good for you.” “It’s been almost five weeks Father if the case is wrapping up maybe Catherine will be home earlier than expected.” “Perhaps Vincent, but in a case as delicate as this one, she may have to stay behind with the child for a while. I shouldn’t pin your hopes too much on the five week deadline.” “Then yes, I should like the chance of seeing her beforehand.” Vincent told his parent, “If nothing else than to see that she is well.” Over the last few days, those feelings of love Vincent had felt coming from Catherine for a third party had dissipated, but not so the sadness. There was also a feeling of anger, frustration and hurt, that he could not begin to understand, but on a lower level she was sending him her love and responding to his emotions via their connection. And he hoped that she would know that he had reached a decision about their relationship now. The following evening Father had it all arranged, and together he and Vincent went to the home of a helper living close to the tunnels who secured the shutters on his shop front for extra security, and brought Vincent and Father inside to watch the news on his television set. The case had been finalised earlier in the day, and the cameras had not been allowed inside the courtroom, but both Father and Vincent were thrilled to find that a microphone inside the court had transmitted to the outside world everything that had been taking place therein. As they listened, Vincent pictured Catherine inside the courtroom. There was a hustle and bustle of shoes and coats as people stood while the judge entered the room, and then a hushed silence settled over the people. A brief summary of the case was then issued before the attorney acting on behalf of the defendants came forward to present his information. “Members of the jury, you see before you today two people, Malcolm Thorn and his partner Gillian Truman both loving parents, who have been incorrectly accused of abusing their only child Rachel. Over the past four weeks you have heard how neighbours have lied and told the court that Rachel has been a victim of mental, physical and sexual abuse, but there is no record of any of these things happening to the child. You have also been told how the parents moved into the area they now live at in June of last year, and because they were wealthy people moving into a lowly area after meeting with hard times, the neighbours shunned them and called them names. You also know of the lies that were issued by these neighbours when Malcolm Thorn and Gillian Truman refused to become involved in an act of violence in a racist matter as a type of inauguration to be accepted in the neighbourhood. Members of the jury, I tell you that Malcolm Thorn and Gillian Truman are innocent of the crime set before them, that they did not and would not abuse Rachel, and that they should be allowed to have their daughter returned to them.” There was a few seconds silence, before Vincent’s heart jumped in his chest as the sound of Catherine’s voice filled the courtroom. “Members of the jury, over the past five weeks you have seen both Malcolm Thorn and Gillian Truman hold their hand upon the Bible and pledge the truth. However, what you have not seen is the tiny hand of Rachel Thorn place her hand upon a Bible and also speak the truth. Unfortunately the authorities continue to fight to bring children into the courtroom so that they might be allowed to tell their side of things but the law continues to fight against this request. So people like Malcolm Thorn and Gillian Truman continue to get away with such crimes, and children like Rachel continue to be abused. However, members of the jury I say to you, that I have spent the past five weeks in the company of Rachel Thorn, and if I may be permitted to do so, I should like to place my hand upon that same Bible and speak Rachel’s truth.” “Objection.” The defendant’s attorney called out; “This is highly irregular so late in the day.” “Your honour if I may be permitted to speak?” Catherine’s voice asked. “You may speak Miss Chandler.” “My reasons for this are thus. I have tried to handle Rachel’s case to the best of my ability, but even I can see that the way things look are not good for the child. If I were a member of the jury I think that all things considered I would be only too happy to believe that the parents have been wrongly accused. And that is why cases like these are so frustrating, because the main person, the one that has suffered is considered too young to give evidence. Well I have spent the best part of five weeks coming to know Rachel and it has taken all of that time for her to trust me enough to speak of her past and I should like on her behalf to address the jury now.” For a few moments a hushed silence drifted over the courtroom as everyone waited for the judge to speak, finally he found it inside himself to allow this, “Go ahead Miss Chandler you have our full attention.” Catherine thanked him, her heart full, and walked over to address the jury. “I have here some drawings by Rachel. Remember she is only three years old, so they aren’t that good, but she told me what they refer to and as you will see I have written this down at the foot of the page. The first drawing baffled me. I thought it was of a street lamp at first. You will notice the long white pole with the glowing amber top. You will also notice that Rachel has scribbled over the drawing. When I asked her why, she told me, ‘because it’s a horrid cigarette’. This second picture shows a house. Four walls, windows, a door, the typical house drawn by a three-year old, but notice the curtains. While three of the four rooms have the curtains open during the day, this one does not. Again notice if you will that Rachel has scribbled over that window. I asked her why and she told me it was her room. Nothing peculiar about that except for the fact that outside the sun is shining and that Rachel hates the dark. This final drawing shows a plate of food. See how brightly the vegetables are coloured. The orange of the carrots, the green of the cabbage, even the potatoes look creamy as if large spoonfuls of butter were added. I asked Rachel why she had drawn such a picture. She told me that it was her wish to eat something as wonderful as this. All right so none of these drawings on their own mean anything but in light of the information we have heard this last month, they make perfect sense. First the reason for this plate of food. How many three-year olds do you know that crave the taste of cabbage? Second why would Rachel draw a picture of her darkened bedroom if she hated the dark? And third why would she scribble over a drawing of a cigarette? And why draw the cigarette to start with? In Rachel’s own words I would like to tell you why. I have here a tape recorder with those answers of Rachel’s upon, however I know that I am not permitted to play them in court, so I have written her answers down word for word, and in Rachel’s own words this is what she told me.” Catherine drew in a deep breath, choking back the tears, though her voice wavered as she spoke; “I hate cigarettes. Daddy presses them against me to make them go out. They hurt and make me cry, and then daddy takes me up to my bedroom, and throws me onto the floor and closes the curtains and locks the door, and I have to stay in there for days, and I get so hungry.” Wiping the fallen tears away Catherine went on, “ I asked Rachel what her mother does while all this is happening, Rachel told me; “she bangs on the door and tells me to shut up crying or she will put out her cigarette on me too.’ We have heard that there was evidence of burn marks upon Rachel, without them the neighbours would never have grown suspicious. And we have heard how Malcolm Thorn and Gillian Truman both insist that Rachel had brushed past them, and caused the lighted end of their cigarettes to burn her face, and those reasons have been accepted. But I ask this, if that were true why does Rachel hold such fear for this occasion. If it were only an accident then surely those parents would have hugged and kissed their child better and made certain that she forgot all about it to an extent that she was careful around them when they had a lighted cigarette in future. But not to the extent that Rachel fears that her parents may stub out a cigarette on her on another occasion. These are only small things I know, seen in the eyes of a three-year old, and as such could be taken as an over active imagination, but there are other things. A week ago, I unfortunately found myself being arrested when two officers saw Rachel biting and kicking me after I had tried to pick her up to help her onto a swing. Perhaps this will highlight the terror felt by Rachel at so innocent a gesture. And those police officers stand by outside this courtroom to testify to that occasion. Members of the jury, I ask you why would a child that age be in terror of being picked up? Why would she misconstrue my attempt to help her? What did she believe I was intending to do to her? And who has hurt her so badly in the past that Rachel will not even allow the simplest of things as the holding of hands? I have come to know and love Rachel very much, but I cannot extend that love to her for fear she will believe I have an ulterior motive in mind that will lead to pain for her. Rachel craves love and affection but she mistrusts any move to direct it to her. It makes me want to weep.” Catherine choked back more tears, “how can we place her back into the hands of those who through their cruelty have robbed her of her innocence and of that trust. A trust that is the only means with which to grow and develop a good heart in this evil world we live in. Those are my words but the experience is Rachel’s. May you allow Rachel to speak to your heart with the only thing that Rachel does believe in and know exists - the truth. Thank you.” A heavy stillness surrounded those in the courtroom and Catherine through a blur of tears was happy to note that the members of the jury were dabbing at their own eyes. And for the first time in the whole of the case, Catherine took heart that justice would be done. It seemed to take only minutes after the jury had left the courtroom before they were back again, their verdict done. As it was read out Catherine let the threatened tears fall with relief – guilty. Rachel’s parents were found guilty and the courtroom burst into applause. Vincent listening in at the home of the helper wiped away his own tears and could feel those tears of Catherine’s He had felt them earlier in the day when the case had been brought to fruition and had wondered at their source. He had felt her tears mingled with gladness, and an overriding satisfaction that should have told him the verdict but did not. After the many conflicting emotions coming through from Catherine over the past month, he wasn’t sure what to believe anymore. But he knew who those feelings of love were directed at now, it was Rachel because even now several hours after the verdict was done he could still feel Catherine’s radiating love for a third person and knew that all things considered they could only be for the child. But that led to a great sorrow. Whether Catherine had reached the conclusion yet he did not know, but soon Catherine would be leaving, and the child would have to be left behind. Father’s thoughts it seemed ran along the same lines. “When Catherine comes home Vincent, she will be changed. This case has affected her like no other I think. We shall have to be very sympathetic and offer her our love. I only wish she could bring the child to us.” Vincent nodded, “This too I wish. We have everything Rachel needs with us, but Catherine knows of this. Don’t worry Father, if she can find a way, Catherine will work it out.” To his father his words were positive to himself they were not. He grieved with Catherine for the predicament she found herself in. He could only continue to open the Bond fully and send her all of his love in the hope that in doing so he would help her find the strength she needed to see her through the next few days. *** *** *** Catherine had a great deal of thinking to do. Now that Rachel’s parents had been jailed for fifteen years, the sentence such so that Rachel would be an adult before their release, Catherine found herself in an unusual predicament. She had fought and won many cases since leaving her father’s firm, but none had affected her quite like this one had had done. This was one that she just could not walk away from. A week before she had made Rachel a promise, and Catherine knew full well how a promise broken to one so young could rock the foundations of an already unstable future. Besides this, Catherine wasn’t entirely sure that she wanted to break the promise to the child. Though her circumstances were such that she wasn’t in a correct position to foster a child, Catherine eventually decided that no amount of worrying about it would make things any different. So one morning three days after the case had finished, Catherine found herself arriving early for an appointment with Child Care Services to put in her application to take Rachel home with her. Ushered into an office some moments later, Catherine was impressed with the décor. It was as far removed from the dismal children’s home as it could be, and she wondered why money had been spent on the place when the children’s home needed it so much more. She was offered a seat by a young woman who asked her to wait a few moments and someone would be with her shortly, giving Catherine time to look around the room. It was spacious and light. Painted a soft blue with light green hues, the desks and filing cabinets were in varnished white pine, and against the light grey blinds of the floor to ceiling windows were three large tubs of leafy plants. Upon the walls were paintings of flowers in soft pastel colours and one large clock in white with gold hands and Roman numerals. As Catherine finished surveying the room, the door behind her opened, and Catherine swivelled the chair around to see a tall man with a sheaf of papers tucked under his arm ushering in a woman equally as tall, and looking very much like him. Catherine guessed that they were twins. Both extended a hand to her as they passed by, introducing themselves as Stephen and Naomi Barnet and gesturing that she should remain seated, before taking up their places behind the desk in front of her. “Miss Chandler, your reputation precedes you, and your affinity with Rachel Thorn is very well documented. We have read thoroughly your application to foster the child, and in the normal circumstances such a request would be instantly denied. However, we have talked the matter over with Dr Johnson and now feel that it would be in Rachel’s best interests to continue to have you as part of her life. Had the circumstances been different and you had of been living in this state, you could have continued to visit Rachel at the home, and by going through the normal procedures your application to foster would have taken many months to finalise. However, we do realise that Rachel needs you, and that with you she has responded to such a degree that Dr Johnson feels that to separate the two of you now would only lead to Rachel’s demise. Therefore we are granting your application to foster Rachel for six months, at the end of which time the situation will be reviewed and acted upon accordingly. And if you pass with flying colours Miss Chandler there will be the opportunity for you to adopt Rachel if you would consider it.” Catherine let out the breath she was holding, and the two people smiled. “I’m sorry it has to be so harrowing Miss Chandler, but it is over now. All that remains to be done is for you to sign the papers and then collect them later this afternoon and then we will bring Rachel to your home the week after next.” “That long. I was hoping I could take Rachel home with me the day after tomorrow. Perhaps I could come back to collect her, I shouldn’t think she has ever been on a plane before.” The Barnet twins looked from one to the other, then back at her, “We do need to see your home Miss Chandler, and for that Rachel will only be told that she is visiting you until we decide if your home meets our standards, but we also understand your concern. Perhaps you could come back here at the weekend and then one of us will accompany you back home, just to satisfy ourselves for the sake of the records, though Dr. Allcot has painted a very high opinion of you and your home in his reference.” Catherine nodded, ‘good old Peter’ she thought to herself. “Yes I will explain to Rachel that I will be unable to visit for two days but will return at the weekend. There is no need for her to know that I am going home. That might panic her.” Stephen and Naomi passed a glance again, smiling with surprise, “Miss Chandler for one who has never had children of their own, plus the fact that you were an only child you have a marvellous aptitude with children. With everything you have said you put Rachel’s needs ahead of your own. I find that truly commendable.” “Thank you.” Catherine warmed to the man, and rose from her seat. They made the final arrangements and then she left, walking back out into the winter sunshine and feeling lighter of spirit than she had for many a day. Afterwards Catherine couldn’t believe she had done it. It was almost laughable. There she was just a few hours later holding in her hands the fostering papers, signed sealed and delivered with the promise that if she passed the test then one day she could adopt Rachel as her own. She laughed when she thought of how Father would love to hear how she had managed to bring the child home with her after all. And then she frowned when she wondered what Vincent would make of a ready made family, and her heart ached that perhaps now this had given him the way out from making that final commitment to finalise their dream. With a child to love and provide for now, he would surely have sound reason to insist that she needed none of her own, and certainly if that meant any of his. Yet did that really matter in view of all Rachel would gain? She would take Rachel Below, and the child would be happy, and Catherine would see her come to life and forget the past just as she had seen countless children come to life down there over the past three years. Catherine could hardly contain her joy. At least part of her dreams had come true, to take a neglected child from off of the streets to live Below. And it made her feel so good inside that she hugged herself with delight. At last Catherine was heading for home, the last six weeks behind her, and with her future stretching ahead of her. Had Vincent given any thought to the questions she had left him with? That he had allowed her a sense of him through the Bond had signified a change in that direction for which she was grateful, but how much had he accepted the ultimatum she had left him with? Leaving the airport Catherine was filled with delight to see the snow falling and imagined Vincent’s delight when he saw it later as he made his way to her apartment. “There must be something significant in snow girl’ she told herself with a grin, ‘the last time you saw Vincent it was snowing then.’ And she remembered the happy evening sat upon her balcony wrapped in thick blankets with hot waters bottles and delicious food. Tonight though she had other plans. Tonight she would not bring out the blankets and hope to spend the evening solely on her balcony in his arms. Tonight she hoped that they would become closer, and after six weeks apart she doubted that she would be able to keep her hands resolutely at her sides. A soft moan escaped her as she visualised her hands buried deep in Vincent’s hair, his lips pressed close to her own. Reaching her apartment Catherine surveyed her home and pictured it in the eyes of the Child Care people, and of Rachel, wondering what the child would make to living there until she could take her Below. Then her thoughts returned to Vincent as a flare of excitement ran through her that she knew to be coming from him. He knew she was home! Quickly she showered and dressed in a robe she knew that he favoured, then despite the chill of the night Catherine went with her heart bursting with happiness to stand upon her balcony to await the arrival of her love. *** *** *** To be continued in chapter five.