‘But the wars, the wanton destruction of water, air and earth—where is the choice there?’ I ask.
‘We are the hidden hands. Our job is to provide the catalyst. Yours is to use it. Violence, war, hatred, green control, enslavement, genocide, torture, moral degradation, prostitution, drugs—all these things and more, they serve our purpose. What do you do in relation to our urgings? Will you succumb to the darkness or will you stand and shine your inner light? If I put a gun in your hand, I am giving you a tool. It has the potential to be either positive or negative. The outcome depends on you.’
I drop my face into my hands. My heart feels so heavy.
‘Remember always that it is just a game. No one really gets hurt or dies. Offstage we are all the best of friends.’
I turn on her angrily. ‘Dress it up all you want. I don’t want Sorab to play catalyst. I want him to have a normal life.’
‘Can you look beyond what your eyes are showing you? Express love and happiness in a world of fear and darkness, and if you can, you will be as a beacon of light into the darkness.’
I look at her. ‘All right. I take up your challenge. We’ll see who gets Sorab.’
‘Goodbye, Blake.’
She presses a button and the car comes to a stop. I get out and close the door and the car moves away.
Thirty-One
Lana Barrington
How can I describe that moment Brian brought Sorab back to me? I had been told to stay indoors, and I was standing at the window that looks out to the gate when I saw them. Oh! I wanted to cry or call out to Sorab, but I couldn’t. I was so happy I lost my voice. There was not a word I could say. I turned around and ran to the front door. And it was Sorab who spoke first.
‘Mummy,’ he said.
I burst into tears. I couldn’t help it. I grabbed him from Brian and squeezed him so hard he squealed. Then he held onto my neck and said, ‘Sorab home.’
‘Oh, darling. Yes, you are. You are home.’
He waved at our housekeeper and he blew Geraldine a shy flying kiss but he wouldn’t leave me. I wouldn’t have let him go to anyone else anyway. I took him inside and he was hungry, poor thing. We made him scrambled eggs and a slice of toast and afterwards I let him have a red lollipop. I was so happy but all the time I kept glancing at the phone.
Finally, Blake calls to say he is on his way home. His voice trembles with emotion.
‘Are you happy, Lana?’
‘Yes, I’m happy.’
‘Good,’ he says softly.
‘Is everything all right, Blake?’
‘Yes, everything is just fine.’
And I laugh, a shaky, nervous, overjoyed sound. I feel as if we are just starting again. We’ve been given a second chance.
‘Say hello to Sorab,’ I say and hold the phone to his ear. I don’t know what he says, but Sorab listens intently and suddenly grins.
I am still holding Sorab pressed against my body when our housekeeper comes in with a slim black box.
‘Someone dropped this off at the front gate,’ she tells me.
I take the box from her curiously, snap it open and frown.
Inside, nestled on velvet, is Blake’s watch.
Epilogue
‘Time and the ocean and some guiding star and High Cabal have made us what we are.’
—Sir Winston Churchill,
Prime Minister, UK, 1940–1945 & 1951–1955
The woman awakens to the sound of a child’s laughter floating in through the open windows. She smiles and stretches, then strokes her belly. It is just beginning to show. A very small bump. She sits up and, hooking her feet into slippers, goes to the window. She can see her husband and son at the bottom of the garden. The boy is perched on his father’s shoulders and trying to peer into a bird’s nest.
She has the urge to run to them, but she doesn’t. Instead she savors that scene, a moment of beauty and joy. We have survived something so profound that it has bound us together like a tightly woven rope, she thinks. We aren’t the same fun-loving innocent people we once were but we are finally free.
Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion she finds herself running out of the bedroom and down the stairs like a child. Hurtling towards them.
At the double doors that lead to the garden she takes off her slippers and steps lightly on the tiles. They are already sun warmed. It is a beautiful day and there is not a cloud in the sky. The grass is cool under her feet. Before the man or the child have realized, she is already there. She throws her arms tightly around his waist and lays her cheek against his warm shirt. He stumbles forwards slightly with surprise and her son squeals. ‘Oh, Mummy,’ he scolds, ‘you’re going to make Daddy and I fall down.’
‘Daddy and me,’ she corrects automatically.
Her husband doesn’t say anything, just looks down indulgently at her.
‘What are the two of you doing?’
‘We’re looking at bird’s eggs, but we’re not allowed to touch them.’
‘That’s it,’ her husband says and puts the boy on the ground. Then he turns around fully to look at her. ‘Hey, gorgeous,’ he says to her.
‘You have no idea how often I dreamed of this day,’ she says.
‘Look, Daddy. I found a beetle,’ the boy cries and holds out his cupped palms.
‘Be careful, Sorab,’ his father warns. ‘You don’t want to kill it. Even the lowly beetle’s life is precious to it.’
The woman raises her eyebrow. ‘Don’t you think it's a bit early for philosophy lessons?’
‘No,’ says the man. ‘It’s never too early for him to learn wrong from right.’
‘But Mummy kills ants all the time,’ the boy says.
‘Well,’ sighs the man. ‘Mummy only kills them when they come into the house and make a nuisance of themselves.’
The boy opens his hand and the beetle flies out of it. He begins to run after it and the man turns to his woman.
‘Do you ever miss that other life, Blake?’
‘Never,’ he states emphatically.
‘Nothing at all?’
He lays his hand on his wife’s belly and spreads his fingers out. ‘You are more beautiful to me today than ever.’
‘Answer the question,’ she teases.
He looks into her eyes and makes a mental note of their color, how it has deepened with her pregnancy. ‘Oh Lana, Lana, Lana,’ he sighs softly. ‘When I met you, my heart was a blank canvas. Now, it is a kaleidoscope of color, rich and eternal.’
She smiles and lets his words warm her insides.
This is just the beginning…
Because this is a totally reader-generated effort –
here is another constant reader request.
POV
Blake Law Barrington
When Lana Returned Home After Kissing Jack
She opens the front door of the apartment and finds me standing in the corridor. She stops and stares at me. I know her so well I can almost read her thoughts. Why is he home? Why is he looking at me like that? It’s a funny thing, but that look of surprise—For fuck’s sake, she has no idea at all what she is doing to me—totally flips my switch. And I start to move. Without thinking.
Without control!
In a flash, I have crossed the room and closed the door. I watch myself bend my head to kiss her and then rear back as if burned. Fuck her. She really does carry his scent, too. I want to strangle him. How dare he? How dare she? My eyes blaze into hers. She looks at me as if I am a maniac. Then I really lose it. Things happen so fast it’s a blur. I grab her by the upper arms and the next moment I have lifted her off the ground and she is lying dazed. Yup, flat on her back with me crouching over her like a fucking beast. I pull her skirt up and tear her underwear with my bare hands. Then I grab her legs by the kneecaps and open them wide. I jerk my face between her legs, and like a dog I sniff her pussy. The scent is sweet and familiar. My first reaction is to lick her and fucking take her right there. Stamp her with the scent of my possession. But I realize that I am holding onto legs that have been shocked into total stillness.