“What’s bothering you?” he asks kindly, pouring them two glasses of Bordeaux. Augustus regards the wine wearily. Why can’t Randolph refrain from these human pleasures? Or at least spare him? Yet he doesn’t raise any objections, there are more important things bothering him at the moment. Deep in thought he strokes his short brown beard.
“It’s the selection of the new candidate that’s worrying me,” he starts to explain. “The next eclipse of the moon is only three days away and that’s a very short time for such a fundamental decision.” Randolph suppresses a smile. Augustus is such a worrier!
“I can assure you, I’ll only need a few seconds to know if a candidate is the right one or not.” Augustus raises his brows in astonishment. He’s already witnessed the selection process five times and only with Rupert and Cassius was the decision instantaneous. Will and Natalie both spent a full week at this castle, and Ruth had been here over a month before she was accepted. “Sometimes it’s the candidate himself who’s not ready,” Randolph answers the unspoken question. “But tell me why you have doubts, Augustus. Ruth is completely convinced by her choice,” he prompts. Augustus swirls the dark red wine in his glass without drinking it.
“I think Ruth is prejudiced. She likes him so she’s trying to get him into the family. But not for the right reasons. I suspect she’s using him to make Cassius jealous.” There, he’d said it. Augustus hates gossip but he can’t ignore this one. Randolph laughs out loud.
“Ruth will always retain her human traits, you can’t resent that, can you?” Augustus shakes his head reluctantly. All of them still retain their human attributes, after all. “Or are you worried that Natalie will deny her consent?” Augustus looks up quickly. It’s eerie how Randolph appears to read his mind at times. But maybe it wasn’t hard to guess this time as Natalie steadfastly refused to come to Scotland.
“Natalie told me she’ll agree if you approve of him,” he mutters. “When I let her know she’ll join us immediately. But she seems very sure that you’ll reject him.” The thought has crossed his mind that Natalie knows something nobody else is aware of. He sighs deeply. “But that’s only one of my concerns. Greg’s only important to one of us: Ruth. Will’s more or less unconcerned but not opposed because Ruth’s his sister, Rupert always follows Ruth’s example, you know why, and Cassius couldn’t care less. Not a brilliant situation, I’d say.” Randolph takes the bottle from the table and tops up his glass.
“But there’s something else, isn’t there?” Here he goes again but it’s easy for him to see through somebody he’s known for centuries.
“Well,” Augustus clears his throat. “Natalie seems to have found someone else,” he admits. “It’s a girl, and Natalie’s been watching her for months now.” Randolph leans forward.
“Does she fulfil all our requirements?” He has to ask because Natalie sometimes simply ignores the Arash laws. He is, however, prepared to excuse this kind of behaviour because she’s still a very young Arash. Nineteen years are really nothing compared with eternity! Augustus coughs self-consciously.
“Natalie claims she has the right charisma.” Randolph nearly chokes on his wine. “The right charisma? Surely she didn’t say that! She knows that the first prerequisite is to be born on a day when a comet’s near the earth. Regardless of charisma!” Augustus shifts uncomfortably in his chair. Natalie’s his daughter in the family structure and he wants to defend her although he knows Randolph is right.
“She’ll verify the facts before New Year’s Eve, she promised.” Randolph shakes his head.
“Hopefully that’s not too late. Ruth’s candidate was born under Halley’s Comet in 1986. A powerful comet, that’s a good argument for Ruth’s choice,” Randolph interjects. Augustus grumbles something inaudible into his beard. “Don’t worry too much!” Randolph gets up, the meeting clearly over. “I’ll make the right decision. Haven’t I always done?”
Augustus does have faith in Randolph’s judgement, but there’s something else that bothers him. Something he doesn’t want to talk about. Since before Christmas he can’t find the ring anymore, the ring he gave the new candidate twenty years ago. Randolph’s ring. Randolph thought it was lost, disappeared with her in the sea, but Augustus knows better. She gave it back to Augustus on that last day of the year, the day before her death. It was the day when she refused to become one of them. The day his hope to make her his partner died. After her refusal he’d have had to delete her memory, so that all knowledge of the Arash was gone, but he hadn’t been able to do that. He still wanted to hope that one day she’d change her mind. But everything was destroyed the next day, his hopes, her life. Later on, Augustus couldn’t bear to return the ring to Randolph, his only memento of her. He hid it in his house in France, in a desk drawer, and looked at it nearly every day. To remember his love and his loss. The whole family gathered in that house some days ago and now the ring is missing. Could it be that Ruth took it to give it to Greg? If he happened to have the ring it would be a great point in his favour, although she’d have to come up with a good story.
Chapter 8
I have to confess that I’m rather uncomfortable at the thought of tomorrow. Spending New Year’s Eve alone at home is always depressing. Everything’s bound to come up in the course of this long night: self-doubt, bitterness, despair... The soul is turned upside down. On top of this, the first of January is the anniversary of my mum‘s death. This is simply too much, I know that from experience. So I decide to make arrangements for the next day and go shopping in town. Sleeping tablets for the worst case scenario – don’t misunderstand me, just to help me sleep! – wine and something to eat as my fridge is completely empty. Maybe one or two films, then the dreaded evening will fly by.
Outside it’s frosty, with grey snow clouds in the sky. People with red cheeks and noses, unrecognisable in their scarves and hoods, hasten through the streets, loaded with food and drink for the big party. I shiver and snuggle into my warm blue coat. The pharmacy shopping’s already done but now I don’t know where to go. I really don’t feel like shopping right now so I wander aimlessly through the streets. A supermarket would do but I hate supermarkets. Especially today there’ll be loads of people and long queues at the check-out. I always classify people according to the contents of their trolleys: the family mum, the two-person household with the high-priced items, the student flat shares and, well, the sad single household like mine. No, I will not expose myself to that ordeal. Better to defrost the lone pizza which is still sitting hopefully in the freezer compartment and some cornflakes, without milk. I’ve just decided to return home when the cathedral clock strikes a quarter to six. I have to hurry if I still want to buy some films.
Head down, I’m quickening my pace when I hear a sound in front of me. Click clack, click clack, loud and rhythmic. An unmistakable sound which I love, the sound of very high heels. Curiously I look up: in front of me is a slender girl whose high-heeled boots are clicking on the pavement. Involuntarily I fall into step with her but soon the sound stops as she disappears into a small shop directly beside the cathedral. I’ve never noticed it before and wonder if it’s new. It certainly doesn’t look modern, it’s a small delicatessen, rather old-fashioned. Curiously I examine the bright shop window but there’s no name above the door. A gust of wind swings the rusty sign which only shows a kind of drawing that glows silver, its lines forming a rectangular prism. The scraping sound of the old metal gives me goose bumps but I still keep looking at the window display: two huge Parma hams dangle from the ceiling above an array of exotic fruit. Papayas, melons, mangoes and some fruit I’ve never seen before, lying seemingly artlessly arranged between bottles of champagne and red wine. Pink flowers that look good enough to eat nestle between dark purple plums. The left-hand side of the window is crowded with delicious cheeses and – how strange! – a small figure of a sleeping cat.