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The beautiful story of the special love between Vincent and Catherine and an abused child that enters their lives.
With poetry by Katrina Relf
Solace
For so long I walked the darkest nights,
The moon lying hidden by stormy clouds
I searched the empty streets for what?
For a dream that I knew I would never find?
And the city lights that once I loved
Offer little solace in their glow.
All hope had long since left my life
When suddenly you came to me.
You gave me comfort when there was none
Brought light to the misty corners of my world
You showed me kindness where there was hate,
And helped me open up my heart.
Your fingers touched my tormented soul,
And slowly I began to heal.
The sun may never shine on me,
But the moon has a beauty all its own,
It softens even the darkest night,
And comforts those who walk alone.
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AS Soft Wings UnfoldForward
The only sound to be heard was the wind. Even the rain fell in silence. It’s own melody drowned out by the relentless buffeting of autumn’s breath, bringing the leaves from the trees fluttering down to the earth in a blaze of red, russet and golden hues.
The grounds were immense, bordered by a high wall upon which the scarlet fragments of Virginia Creeper feasted. Its tendrils embedded deep into the mortar. Against the wall itself the wind had flattened the summer’s glory of Delphinium, Larkspur and Hollyhock until only a slimy green mass of entwined stalks remained upon the saturated earth.
A long winding gravel path that was overrun with weeds and long grass rounded the circumference of the wall and travelled on past the summerhouse (where barbecues were held on warm summer evenings), right on up to the door of the large house itself. Here it ended as five large steps leading up to the great oak door began.
Beyond the door a long dismal corridor awaited visitors and residents alike. Painted three quarters olive green and a quarter beige the lighter of the two gave way to a white ceiling hosting a flickering strip of fluorescent light that led the way from the main entrance to the dormitory, filled now with relatively few children.
Only last week the corridor had been a hive of activity as people from all over the state had arrived to collect children to take them back to their homes for the festive season.
It was the way of things here.
Generally the children’s home housed in the region of forty or more homeless, neglected or abused children and the building would be filled with their chatter and tears throughout the hours of every day. Yet once a year the home opened its doors to willing arms that would provide a special time for the home’s inhabitants.
Sometimes it proved a risk to do this, but in the main the authorities realised that a good deal of children found willing families to take care of them. Families that would continue to visit and eventually adopt because the festive season brought forth a warmth towards the children that wasn’t usually present at any other time of year. A reminder of which provided the stimulus needed to open a heart to the plight of the children.
Rachel pressed her pert little nose against the coldness of the window rubbing away a little circle where her breath had clouded the glass. The radiator positioned along the wall beneath the window was almost cold. It wasn’t just the children that needed special attention. The building was old, in need of repair and modernisation, the radiators long ago furred with so much lime-scale that they bubbled and groaned with air pockets and refused to give out their heat.
Yet warm or cold Rachel felt neither, nor did she see anything outside to interest her. The outside world was dank and dismal with the rain falling in spasms interspersed occasionally with a ray of sunshine, so short lived that a blink would miss it.
Her little arms folded across her chest and her hands tucked firmly into the well of her armpits was the only indication that Rachel did in fact feel cold, though she did not complain and she did not think to ask for something to warm her.
Behind her two people watched her with interest and concern. Their voices low. One a doctor by the name of Gerald Johnson a man of some distinction and well qualified in paediatrics and how the law stood in relation to an abused child. He had spent the best part of his life campaigning for a change in the law so that children like Rachel would be able to testify to their brutal past. Thus they would spend less time in care and more time with foster parents who might love them while their parents or guardians were brought to trial.
The other person a care assistant was also a long-term member of staff and in many ways harder than most. At first when Molly Cook had come to work at the home, her heart had gone out to all the waifs and strays. She had wanted nothing more than to take them all home with her, but in time the wickedness of the world had shown her a different child. One who had learnt the basis of survival from an early age, in many respects a vicious child, unfeeling, cold and without a conscience.
In the main the eighties had bred this kind of street child, the survival of the fittest, and it had been a long time since Molly had seen the vulnerability of innocence. Thus Molly did not recognise the unfeeling stance of Rachel as any different to the modern day child. Rachel showed the same indifference despite her tender years, and the Molly knew the pattern of things. Governmental money spent on children with a heart made of stone was a useless waste, for no sooner would a child leave the care of a home and be fostered than would some other evil person thwart that child’s future for his own selfish gains. And the child would end up back on the streets.
Molly believed that even fostering was a farce. Many people applied to foster in order to get government handouts yet would seldom spend the money on the fostered child, using it to top up a low income or to spend it on frivolous things and thus again the child became neglected.
It was a rare person who adopted an abused child. Rare that a person with a heart, a good heart would come along and offer a child a home purely for unselfish reasons, purely for the benefit of the child. Yes that was a rare occurrence indeed. In Molly’s opinion most childless couples with a good heart wanted only babies.
Nonetheless every year the home opened its doors and let in people who provided all the right qualifications and gave permission for all of its children to be taken to the homes of relative strangers for the festive season. In the slim hope that one or two of the children might find someone who had that rare and good heart.
But at that precise moment in time even if Rachel had displayed signs of being anything but street-wise Molly would not have noticed. She and the doctor were among the oldest members of staff, and in the early days of their working together a brief affair had sprung up between them. It lasted only until Dr. Johnson’s wife had become suspicious, and then it had ended almost as quickly as it had begun. But now Dr. Johnson’s wife had passed away, some eight months since, and Molly harboured a secret yearning to secure him to her again.
At fifty-five years old Dr. Johnson was still a distinguished man with the physique of a man half his age. He jogged around the perimeter of the grounds daily, and swam regularly. And in all the years they had worked together Molly had schemed and hoped that one day he would be hers again.
Standing together now Molly only half heard what he was telling her, her concentration otherwise directed on the way his lips moved, the way his dark brown hair, still quite thick and only slightly greying at the temples lay in soft waves around his face. His eyes, green with flecks of gold had always appealed to her, and as she studied him she could well remember those hands, gliding over her soft curves and ached to feel them doing so again.
“So she should be arriving at any minute.” Molly was pulled out of her retrospection with a jolt as Dr. Johnson pulled back his sleeve to check his watch.
“Who?” the question came without forethought, and Dr. Johnson frowned, “Molly you haven’t heard a word I’ve said have you? What is it with you just lately?”
For a moment Molly stared at him wide-eyed, he couldn’t have forgotten surely? In all the years they had spent working together much to the chagrin of his wife, he had always considered her feelings in all of this, had never failed to notice that she had continued to hold a torch for him. Didn’t he know that was why she had never married?
Although eight months without his wife wasn’t long, Molly was beginning to think it was time he started to notice her again.
She was still pretty and at fifteen years his junior was still young enough to give him a child if they were to marry sooner rather than later. She would make him a good wife, and they would be happy.
“Molly?” Dr Johnson frowned. To think that he ever had eyes for this woman. He shook his head, she was vain and hollow and it would appear that just lately her heart was no longer in her work.
If she didn’t soon buck her ideas up he would have to let her go.
Molly looked up sharply, something in his tone making it so. She worried when she saw him shake his head “Sorry did you want something from me?” she asked the purposely twin-barrelled question.
“I was telling you that the district attorney will be here soon, shouldn’t you get Rachel ready?”
Molly stared across to the child as if seeing her for the first time, “Rachel?” she questioned, her mind suddenly void of anything to do with the child.
“Are you all right Molly? Is something bothering you? You seem to be more than a little distracted these days?” Dr. Johnson was filled with concern, perhaps the woman was ill?
Molly shook her head “I’m all right.” How could she tell him? Didn’t he know?
Dr. Johnson stared down at her for long moments, “Get the child ready will you Molly, then come and see me in my office, we really need to talk.” His eyes gave nothing away, but Molly’s heart thudded with excitement, her face and eyes lit up, stunning Dr. Johnson by the sudden transformation, and almost laughed as Molly remained unmoving just staring up at him.
“Rachel?” he reminded her with a grin and a nod towards the child.
“What? Oh yes Rachel. Of course Gerald I’ll get her ready at once.” She made to move towards the child, and Dr. Johnson stopped her, “Shouldn’t you be going to the clothes cupboard first Molly, you’ll never get the child dressed otherwise.” His eyes twinkled with humour.
Molly stopped, blushed scarlet and stammered an apology, twirling round to change direction toward the clothes cupboard instead. Dr. Johnson grinned at her and shook his head again something was definitely amiss. Perhaps their talk later would reveal the reason.
Something caught Rachel’s eye. The dancing leaves had held her attention for several minutes, and she had been drawn to their colour, when something distinctive, brighter and better drew her eyes from them.
A yellow taxi had drawn to the curb, that was nothing new, quite a few had drawn up there the week before but from this one alighted a woman, and her bright orange duffel coat provided a brilliance that outshone the autumn colours.
Rachel watched the woman pay the taxi driver and turn around to look down the long gravel drive toward the house. She hitched her bag higher upon her shoulder, and stepped forward, her black knee high boots shuffling the leaves underfoot.
On the corner of the drive stood a man. Rachel had seen him before. He sold toys to visitors coming to see the children. Rachel watched the orange lady walked past the man, then stop turn back and ask about something.
From behind him, the man extracted a bag, and from the stall in front of him he picked something up, put it inside the bag and handed it to the orange lady. She passed him some money, smiled and thanked him, and continued on her way.
Molly came up behind the child; “You must get dressed young lady. Someone is coming to see you today.”
Fear coursed through Rachel and she cowered away. “It’s all right no one will hurt you. Now be a good girl and let me dress you huh?”
Rachel side stepped along the wall and brushed against the radiator her eyes wide with fear and Molly despaired. It was always the same. This child just refused to let anyone help her dress, and she was too young to make a good job of it herself.
“All right if that’s the way you want it.” Molly lay the clothing down upon the bed, “Get yourself dressed.” She turned, walked towards the door and exited without looking back she had better things to do. Gerald wanted to see her and Molly couldn’t get to his office soon enough to find out why.
Turning back to the window tears formed in Rachel’s eyes. She could no longer see the orange lady and the tears fell in a steady rhythm.
Lifting the large brass knocker, Catherine teetered on the top step and let the knocker fall back against the door before stepping back and down one step to a more comfortable position. She waited. Her scarf pulled up tightly around her neck and ears to ward off the wind’s chill.
After a minute or two she heard footsteps, and the sound of bolts sliding back, before the handle turned and the large door groaned as it was opened inwards.
A ready smile lit Catherine’s lips, a warmth radiating through to the gentleman beyond who scrutinised her with pleasure.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“I’m Catherine Chandler from the District Attorney’s office in New York. I’m here to see a Dr. Johnson about a child in care here.”
“I’m Dr. Johnson. Welcome Miss Chandler, do come in, we have been expecting you.”
“Thank you.” Catherine stepped into the corridor beyond, accustoming her eyes to the flickering light from the ceiling. Dr. Johnson noticed, “We keep meaning to get it replaced. It drives everyone nuts. But somehow the money is always needed elsewhere.”
“Remind me before I leave to give you a donation.” Catherine smiled, “And make sure you spend it on a new light. Now do we see the child first, or is there anything I need to know?”
“I believe you are well versed in the details surrounding this case?”
Catherine nodded, patting her bag to indicate the files within.
“Then we may as well go and see Rachel now.”
They stepped forward, and Dr. Johnson closed the door to the outside world behind them, leaving the bolts drawn back.
“Just follow me Miss Chandler.” He told Catherine, as together they fell into step down the long corridor.
From around the corner Molly almost collided with them, “Finished so soon?” Gerald smiled at her, but before Molly could answer, he introduced the woman at his side, “This is Miss Chandler from the district attorney’s office. Is Rachel ready?”
Molly shook her head “She wouldn’t let me dress her again. She’s decent but still in her pyjamas.”
“That’s all right.” Catherine reassured the woman, “It would be a rare child of that age that wanted to be dressed this early in the morning. Is there somewhere I can speak to her, or shall I use her room?”
“There are no rooms Miss Chandler, all the children sleep in the same dormitory, but few are here now, and you will have privacy, but don’t expect miracles regarding Rachel’s speech. She has hardly said two words in all the time she has been with us. She doesn’t even seem to cry.” Molly told her without any feeling.
Catherine’s heart went out to the little girl whom she had never met, the details of her case utmost in her mind. “With what she has been through I’m not surprised.” Tears formed on her lashes, and Catherine forced herself to remain neutral, for the sake of getting through the ordeal ahead.
Ushering her through the dormitory doors, Dr Johnson pointed to Rachel who still stood motionless by the window, “That’s her.” He told Catherine, then in a higher tone called, “Rachel, you have a visitor.”
Her face pressed to the glass in a bid to see around the building’s corners, Rachel turned slowly. The orange lady had gone and Rachel felt immensely sad so that when her gaze rested first on the colour of Catherine’s coat and then on Catherine’s face a smile ghosted the corners of Rachel’s lips, forming into a full fledged grin of delight as she saw who it was.
“Well we are honoured.” Dr. Johnson whispered, “That’s the first time I’ve seen her smile at anyone.”
Catherine frowned, “Perhaps I remind her of someone. You don’t think she will be disappointed when she finds I’m not who she thinks I am do you?”
“I wouldn’t know. Perhaps on the other hand she is just responding to how beautiful you are.”
Catherine blushed, muttered her thanks, and stepped hurriedly away from the doctor towards the child.
“Hello Rachel.” Catherine smiled tremulously as she approached the child. “My name is Catherine Chandler.”
Rachel’s smile increased, and Dr Johnson waiting by the door was overwhelmed to see Catherine reach the child and stoop to her knees to be on the child’s level. “You see that?” he spoke to Molly at his side, but received no reply. “Molly?” what was wrong with the woman now?
Molly fumed as Gerald’s reference to Catherine’s beauty made her so. She turned on her heels and exited the room. “Women!” Gerald watched the door swing back and forth; “I’ll never understand them.” His attention was diverted back to Catherine, “But there’s one I wouldn’t mind coming to understand.” He told himself.
Watching from the wings as it were Gerald Johnson delighted in all he saw.
Catherine Chandler was a woman who certainly understood children that was for sure.
Knelt opposite Rachel Catherine extended a gloved hand, “Those are very pretty pyjamas, did you bring them with you?”
Rachel warmed to Catherine at once, in her minds’ eye still calling her the orange lady, and shook her head. “No got them here.” She spoke softly almost inaudible.
“Are they warm?” Catherine asked her.
Rachel shook her head.
“Would you like to get back into bed?”
A frown crossed Rachel’s features. “Can’t” she said, “Not allowed.”
“Then let me put my coat around you.” Catherine unbuttoned the coat, and Rachel stared wide-eyed and speechless as Catherine took the coat from off her body and draped it right around the child, “There.” She told her, “How does that feel?”
Rachel snuggled into the folds of wool still warm from Catherine’s own body heat and drank in the perfume lingering there. “‘S nice”, she told Catherine her eyes bright with joy.
“I have something else for you too.” Catherine picked up the brown paper bag that she had left at her feet, and handed it to the child.
Her eyes radiant, Rachel at once recognised the bag as being the one handed to the orange lady by the market stall holder. Her heart beat rapidly as she unfolded the bag and peeked inside. A gasp of pleasure expelled from her and she took from the bag a soft toy, a cuddly lion.
“He’s wonderful isn’t he?” Catherine told Rachel, “I couldn’t resist him, and do you know he reminds me of a very good friend of mine named Vincent. Vincent protects me, and now you have someone to protect you too.”
Clasping the toy to her chest, Rachel’s eyes filled with tears of happiness, “Thank you.” She whispered, “He’s lovely.”
“Well you certainly have made a hit there.” Dr Johnson’s voice came from behind them, “I’ve never seen Rachel accept any toys before, and we have plenty.”
“Why is that Rachel?” Catherine asked softly, “Don’t you like the other toys?”
Rachel looked warily up at the doctor and taking his cue he moved away, knowing the child would not speak in his presence. Catherine Chandler had made more headway in the last two minutes than they had done in two months.
“The other toys aren’t mine. I mustn’t touch things that aren’t mine.” Tears formed in Rachel’s eyes.
“Who told you that?” Catherine spoke very tenderly.
“Daddy.” Immediately Catherine saw the child retreat into her protective shell, her eyes big and fearful, and Catherine remembered some of the things she had read on the case. She shuddered, “This toy is yours Rachel. You can play with him.”
“I know. I saw you buy him for me.”
Catherine bit back the tears, “Has no one ever bought you a toy before?”
Rachel shook her head, the gathered tears falling, and she brushed them away with the back of one hand. Catherine’s heart went out to her. She longed to enfold Rachel into her arms but stopped herself short. From the case history she knew this would frighten the child.
“I have to go now Rachel,” and at the child’s horrified look, Catherine hastened to reassure her, “But I will be back in a couple of days, I’ll come and see you again.”
“Do you promise?” Rachel’s lips trembled.
“Yes I promise, and nothing will stop me. Now how about letting me help you to get dressed, then you can play with your toy.”
Rachel nodded. In her heart she knew that to agree would delay the orange lady’s departure and that made her happy.
All too soon though Rachel was dressed in her warm day clothes, and Catherine was putting back on her coat and preparing to leave. It was hard for her to tear herself away. Few children’s cases had affected her as this one had, and Catherine’s heart ached.
“I’ll be back, I promise.” She stepped away smiling as she went. Rachel watched her go burying her face into the soft fur of the cuddly lion so that no one could see her tears. She clutched him to her tightly, and watched the orange lady a few moments later as she walked back down the drive. They waved to one another, and as Catherine’s bright orange coat disappeared from view, a light went out in Rachel’s heart.
*** *** ***Chapter One
Five Weeks Later
It was winter in Manhattan.
Throughout the day the inhabitants of the underground world had shivered and huddled close to the main hub, chatting and enjoying each others company almost reluctant to return to their own chambers and encounter the chilly tunnels.
The only people that seemed to give off a radiant heat were the children. Happy to have the endless tunnels to themselves, they had spent the best part of the day engaged in races, and had grown hot amid their warm tunnel clothing.
Father’s voice had boomed, “If you have so much energy you can help someone with their chores.” the children had laughed and told him quite cheekily that William’s delicious winter fare would soon build up their energy again and that they could help later in the day.
And it was true. Father couldn’t argue with that. William’s delicious winter fare had warmed everyone and given even the oldest member of the community enough energy to move around this day and get on with some kind of activity.
In fact, Father eyed his chamber spectacularly; there wasn’t a book or a candle out of place. He chuckled to himself as in his minds eye, he remembered his visitors moving items absentmindedly as they had joined with him that day in idle pursuit, and in no time at all his whole chamber was clean and tidy. “Perhaps I shall never find anything again.” he murmured to himself with quiet resignation, “Though I’ve not wanted for visitors this day so I mustn’t complain.”
The day had wound down with the tunnel residents reluctantly leaving the main hub to return to their own chambers, hoping that in their absence the banked stoves and heavy curtains framing the chamber entrances had kept their quarters warm.
Father pulled a book towards him fingering its pages lovingly. It was one he hadn’t read in a while. Someone must have shifted it earlier. He’d read it as a boy and had been enthralled by it, and longed to read it again now. Black Beauty by Anna Sewell.
Somehow Black Beauty’s description of his earliest memory in the sunny meadow appealed to Father right now. He could almost feel the sun’s warmth penetrating the chilly tunnels and seeping right through to his tired old bones.
Absorbed in his reading, Father did not notice his son watching him avidly from the doorway, until Vincent had stood there for quite some time.
“What is it that you are reading Father?” Vincent enquired; moving into the warm chamber and letting the large curtain drop back into place, before coming to peer at the book over Father’s shoulder.
As Vincent stood by him, Father could feel the coldness of the tunnels lurking around his son’s frame, and took in his appearance, somewhat concerned.
“Are you going Above?” Vincent was dressed in his large cloak and boots; his gloves pulled up high upon his hands.
Vincent nodded, “Yes, don’t worry about me Father. I shall be in Catherine’s safe hands.”
Father looked up sharply, unable to resist, “Safe?” causing a deep sigh to escape Vincent, as he lowered his large frame into the chair that he favoured in Father’s study.
“You’ve noticed?”
Father nodded, laying the book upon the table in front of him. “It’s hard not to do. Would you like to talk about it?”
“Yes Father. It is something that needs your counsel, for I feel unable to pursue it myself any longer and gain any answers.”
“The relationship you and Catherine have, has deepened has it not?”
“You are very shrewd Father. And yes, it has deepened, only I don’t know how to react to that.”
“I’ve watched the pair of you for some time Vincent.” Father took hold of his son’s hands within his own, stroking Vincent’s long fingers with his thumbs. His eyes looked deeply into that of his son’s. “I’m concerned for you. Having been brought up to accept that such a relationship could never be for you, I can see how difficult Catherine’s dependence on you has become.”
“If only that’s all it were. I could deal with dependence Father, but it’s much more than that.” Vincent spoke softly, bowing his head, allowing his hood to fall further forward and conceal his eyes.
“Yes. I know. Once when Catherine told me that she loved you, I took it to mean that she loved you just the way every one of us that knows you, also loves you. It came as quite a shock to hear her say that she didn’t mean that she merely loved you, but rather that she was ‘in love with you.’
Vincent’s gaze met that of his father’s as he folded back his hood to rest upon his shoulders.
“You seem surprised?”
“I am.” Vincent’s voice shook.
“She told me this a long time ago Vincent. And Catherine has very cleverly disguised her need of you, but her love she has not. Since she told me this, I have seen that love grow. It’s in her eyes, the way she watches you. Her smile even. And those quiet moments when she says nothing, they above all else tell me everything. I’m so afraid Vincent of where this love will lead her. In fact where it will lead you both.”
Vincent’s heart was racing.
To believe that Catherine loved him was one thing. To have it confirmed was quite another. He didn’t know whether to jump for joy or run and hide himself away.
Catherine - in love with him, could it really be so?
It took all his strength to focus on his conversation with Father. He felt more inclined to go somewhere quiet and absorb this revelation.
Father was waiting patiently. Watching the many expressions chase across his dear son’s face, with concern and a little amusement. His merry eyes twinkling.
Slowly Vincent pulled his mind into gear enough to ask, “Father I did not know how Catherine really felt about me. I only know what it is that I feel.”
“And what is that Vincent?”
Vincent evaded the question momentarily, saying instead, “Once you told me that following our connection would only make me unhappy. Do you remember? It was after Catherine had healed down here after the attack, and had gone back home.”
Father nodded, “Yes, and you replied, “Then I’ll be unhappy. Are you unhappy Vincent?”
“Only in that, for me, the love I have for Catherine, the love she has for me, is only a dream. It can go nowhere, and the acceptance of that Father brings me the greatest pain I have ever known.”
Father nodded. He understood only too well the impossibilities of his son’s relationship with a woman of the world above, no matter whom it might be. Even with a woman of the world below would bring its own problems. Vincent was only half-human and the other side of him too complex for anyone to really understand it but for Vincent himself.
Yet for all that Father had been proven wrong. He knew that now. Three years earlier when Catherine had first entered their lives he had believed he was right. Right in advising Vincent to stay away from her. Shocked when Vincent had declared, ‘then I’ll be unhappy’, when he had advised that such a relationship could only lead to unhappiness.
Yet Catherine had continued to come into their lives, and had proved herself a valued helper and a dear member of the community and Father had been forced to admit that he had grown to love her as a daughter. More so since her own father had died and they had grown closer.
Father wondered how Vincent would feel if he now advised that such a relationship might work. Seeing how much Catherine cared for his son, and that she accepted him totally despite his differences, only added to her worth in his eyes.
Carefully, as best he could, Father began to say things which he had kept locked in his heart for several months now. “Vincent, when I told you those things all those years ago, I truly believed I was right. I truly believed that a relationship, any relationship with Catherine or any other woman would be devastating for you. I only had your interests at heart.” he hesitated.
“But now?” Vincent could feel that more was about to be disclosed. He both craved and feared it. Father hesitated before replying and the sound of people tapping messages on the pipes to one another in the background sounded deafening to Vincent. They were part of his world but now at this moment he didn’t think he had ever cursed their sound so much. He needed silence to be able to think clearly, for he was certain that there was something Father was going to say that would alter his entire future. At last Father took a deep breath and replied, “But now Vincent I find that I am proven wrong. That Catherine can accept you, love you so deeply to contemplate a deeper more meaningful relationship with you, well what can I say Vincent? She is beautiful and you are one very lucky young man.”
Vincent tried to absorb his father’s words. Was he stupid? For some reason the advice would not sink in. What was it his father was trying to say?
“Put that into plain English can you Father?” Vincent asked, holding his breath for the answer.
“I would have thought that was obvious.” Father chuckled, “Vincent do I have to spell it out for you? I was wrong Vincent. In the beginning I was wrong. Catherine and you, well you are made for one another. Your emphatic connection alone should be enough to convince you of that. Your destinies were so obviously linked and it would be a tragedy to try to sever that link Vincent. I firmly believe that together, you and Catherine do have a life to live together, and since you cannot live Above then Catherine will have to come Below to live with you.”
“That’s the whole world in a nutshell though isn’t it? How can I possibly ask Catherine to forsake the world Above and live down here with me, even if I were to accept your counsel?”
Vincent felt a wave of sorrow pass over him.
“Personally Vincent, I think Catherine would jump at the chance of living Below. It does have its good points after all.”
“What no friends, no theatres, no employment, those kind of good points Father?”
Vincent stood to begin his relentless pacing that Father knew to be frustration speaking.
“Now you are being sarcastic. Sit down Vincent, you are making me dizzy.”
Vincent slumped back into his seat, the muscles in his legs twitching avidly as if they were still on the move.
“Have you ever thought of asking Catherine what she thinks?”
“No.”
“Then you should.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not. You may be pleasantly surprised by her answer. In fact, I would say she wouldn’t need asking twice.”
“That isn’t why I can’t ask her.”
“Then why not?”
“Father don’t you see!” Vincent rose again to resume his relentless pacing. “If I ask her, if she comes, then what? Then what does she expect? What more can I give her? Father you know the risks!”
“Once maybe. But no more Vincent. Was it not Catherine that went down to the subterranean world alone and confronted the beast, to bring back the man, not once but time and again? And each time she showed only momentary fear Vincent, and then only because of concern. She knew you would not hurt her, even in that frame of mind. Each time her courage saved you and brought you back to us. Surely, if nothing else that alone should convince you that there are no risks. Not now. Vincent it strikes me that it isn’t Catherine you are most afraid of, it is yourself.”
Vincent stopped his pacing, and breathing heavily stared down at his father. “I can’t believe you are condoning this. Neither that you can forget how mighty the dark one is.”
“And is it not the dark one that protects Catherine every time she is confronted by danger? How then can he injure the one that he loves?”
Vincent shook his head. His jumbled thoughts tumbled one upon the other. He had to escape. He needed to think and the sound on the pipes was making his head reel. Pulling the hood of his cloak back over his head, Vincent headed for the exit. “You’re going Above Vincent?” Father enquired.
Vincent nodded “Yes Father.”
“To Catherine?”
“Yes.” Vincent’s voice hissed. Try as he might he could not deny the call of her this night. She needed him. She had needed him all day. Her turbulent emotions ones he did not want to unravel. Besides after so long without her, while she had been away on an assignment didn’t he need her too?
“Then take care Vincent. Give Catherine my love.” he wanted to add even if you can’t give her your own, but remained silent. However his eyes spoke volumes and Vincent heard the words nonetheless. He sighed raggedly, “Don’t wait up for me Father.” his parting words echoed over his shoulder as he lifted the heavy door curtain, ducked around it, and let it fall back to its place. Father stared after him as far as the curtain would allow, hearing his son’s muffled footsteps recede.
For some reason Father felt immensely sad, and picked up his book again although now void of the interest he had shown it before.
The stinging bite to the winter’s chill cut Vincent’s face as he exited the drainage culvert, ever watchful of the world Above. His listening intent upon any sounds which would signal danger, he inhaled deep breaths of icy air that seared his lungs and he desperately held back a cough while he sought through the scents for anything alien, anything which might warn him of impending danger, before satisfied, he moved forward. The sudden sight that met his eyes in no way surprised him, for as he had made his way above the scent of freshly fallen snow had assaulted his senses. There had been a previous snowfall some six weeks earlier, but the sight of seeing it again so soon was still enchanting.
Standing alone, with his boots half buried by the abundance of snow at his feet, Vincent surveyed this world, his heart thudding with an unimaginable joy at the mere sight of this winter wonderland. Moon-drenched, the snow sparkled. Its icy hardness, a million fragments of crystal with facets giving off colours that left even the brightest star paling into insignificance.
Vincent’s breath caught in his throat. The beauty was spellbinding.
Always it affected him the same, yet Vincent was forever indebted to the magic of nature’s virgin blanket by the blaze of joy that seeing it anew each winter brought forth. And to think that out of the trillions of snowflakes that fell each season no two ever bore the same pattern was awesome. Standing there, Vincent almost didn’t want to mar its beauty. Didn’t want to walk through its lushness, and spoil it with footprints that would lead from his home to hers.
Almost upon tiptoes, Vincent stepped forward. His long cloak brushing the snow from behind, filling in the indents his feet had made, to a double row of mole hill like mounds, a strange sight to any observer, but none so much to be noticed as the glorious winter wonderland that drew the eye to its magnificence.
Yes, despite the abundance wickedness of the world above, Catherine’s world held its own beauty. Yet how could it not?
Deep in his mind Vincent’s beautiful voice accompanied him as he made his way silently across the park.
There is so much that I have read in books -
So much that I can only imagine -
Of the world Above.
Catherine’s world.
I have walked its streets by night
Through rising mists and towers of light,
I have seen its dark beauty,
And I have seen its evil,
Its viciousness.
I have known, and felt, its cruelty,
And wondered at its abandonment of the weak and the helpless.
Yet I have also seen the moon,
And the stars shining like crystals
in the black velvet of a winter sky.
I have seen the park
Hidden by a blanket of white
As the snow soundlessly covers everything.
I have felt the warmth of a summer night,
Holding me in its embrace.
I have felt the rain on my face
And the wind in my hair.
And in spite of the inhumanity of man,
The world above is beautiful.
How could it not be?
It is Catherine’s world.
Nearing the far side of the park Vincent could now see the muffled silhouette of Catherine’s apartment building through the icicle-draped trees. Barren now except for ripples of white that collected in river-like ribbons along the bare brown branches, the trees stood like some fossilised creature luminous against the blackness of the night.
Reaching the gates of the park at last, Vincent peered up at Catherine’s apartment, eighteen floors above him. On nights such as these, the way above was perilous. Yet the warmth and the sanctity of losing himself in her arms drew him ever onwards. Never could he keep away, no matter the risks, and this night he really wanted to see her.
Observing the silence of the sleeping city, Vincent made his way across the almost deserted street and to the elevator shaft, where he would gain access to Catherine’s rooftop by riding above the elevator car. The restless chugging of the cable being the only sound that penetrated the night, and Vincent held his breath as always, until he reached his destination. Once there, he breathed a sigh of relief, as looking down, the street now far below him, Vincent was awed by the city lights and moonbeams dancing upon the glittering snow that bedecked every avenue, alleyway and footpath, enriching the night with a beauty all its own.
Cautiously he lowered himself from the rooftop down to Catherine’s balcony, swinging himself with an ease born of familiarity onto her terrace where the pair of them had spent many happy hours whiling away the nights.
Catherine shivered as a soft rustle in the corner of her terrace signified Vincent’s arrival, and she turned with a ready smile to greet him, “You’re cold?” Vincent hurried to enfold her into the warmth of his voluminous cloak; “You shouldn’t have waited outside for me.”
“No, I’m not cold Vincent. That involuntary shiver was for the sight of you. I’ve missed you so much.” Her mind was suddenly filled with the last time they had been together as painful as that parting had been it seemed to be such a long time ago and so much had happened to change her life since then. Things of which she needed to speak of desperately.
Vincent hugged her tighter, “As I have missed you.” He breathed deeply of her newly washed hair and of the underlying fragrance that was solely Catherine. To hold her again was sheer bliss, after almost six weeks abstinence. Thirty-nine days apart while Catherine worked on a case out of state.
“I hated having to leave you Vincent, especially having to miss Winterfest and your birthday too. Joe concludes that I am the best for the job, but what he doesn’t know is that I find it almost impossible to give my utmost to the work when my mind and my heart is so full of you. The longing becomes unbearable.” Catherine’s words caught on a sob, and she snuggled closer to the man that she loved more than life.
Vincent’s heart was pained, “It is the price we must pay,” he whispered softly, “For daring to love. Catherine, this dream that we share, it is but a dream, and if it causes you pain, perhaps it is time that the dream were ended.” He had given a lot of thought to this in their five weeks apart.
Catherine lifted tear filled eyes to his, “No! Vincent, what we have, if it is all there is, I accept that. But to live without even the smallest part of what we can have, then Vincent the pain would be great, death dealing. I could never live without you in my life. I love you so much.” Catherine held her breath for fear he would leave for hearing her tell him this.
Swaying on the spot, Vincent closed his eyes. The words were too beautiful to be believed. To believe that this woman, this beautiful woman could feel bound by a love to long for him so much, to want him in the way that he wanted...No! Vincent would not, could not let himself believe that the dream could unfold into such reality, for him! No matter what Father had implied.
Gathering her close, Vincent wanted to lose himself in her. He had missed her so terribly. Not just the missing of her physical presence, but the fact that so far away he could not aid her if she were in danger. Such separations, all too often of late would be the death of him, yet to believe that anything else were possible and have that belief shattered, then that too would bring a death-dealing blow.
Happy that he made no mention of her declaration of love nor did he make to leave Catherine invited him into her home; “Won’t you come inside Vincent?” Her question cut through his reverie, and Vincent searched her eyes for an unfathomable moment, trying to establish the meaning behind the invitation. If she were not cold, then why would she invite him inside? Catherine knew how uncomfortable being inside her apartment made him feel, and how greater the risk for them became there.
“I think not, my Catherine.” he whispered eventually, while for a heart stopping moment Catherine anticipated his reply. Her heart sank, he felt it, and was at once guarded. Drawing back just slightly from her arms, he asked, “You’ve not been back long, perhaps you should rest. I will see you tomorrow.”
“After spending four hours in a stuffy aeroplane and equally as long in a stuffy airport lounge for a delayed flight, rest is the last thing I need. However if you were to offer to walk me through the snow, I feel the fresh air would indeed provide the stimulant I need for a good night’s sleep. Besides there is something I must tell you.”
Vincent smiled, trust him to mince words with a clever lawyer. He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. The idea of walking through the snow with Catherine seemed wonderful to him.
“I’ll meet you at the threshold in ten minutes.” Catherine told him breathlessly, “Just give me time to change, and put on something warmer.”
“Yes.” Vincent told her softly, his eyes never leaving hers. Already ten minutes stretched into infinity, it was way too long, and his arms felt desolate without her. Raggedly Vincent sighed, ‘would it always be this way from now on, this constant hunger to have what could never be?’
Catherine was watching him, half expecting him to say something. Yet as he turned to make his way back to the rooftop, Catherine exhaled a breath of resignation. ‘What they had was worth everything, wasn’t it?’ she told herself not for the first time. ‘So then why did her heart cry out for more?’
After spending almost six weeks apart from each other, their longest separation for many a month, she had contemplated their meeting, living on an almost breathless hope that he might have missed her enough to contemplate kissing her, especially with the way they had left things between them before.
All she wanted was just a simple kiss. Was it so much to ask?
Catherine shook her head with sorrow. She had waited so long for him. Was his fear so intense that it prevented even the simplest of things? He knew what she needed. Six weeks ago she had made that very plain.
Later as they walked side by side through the park, Catherine forgot all of those things. Simply, there were no words as the beauty of the snow-drenched night surrounded them. And with their hearts and arms entwined, they were lost to their thoughts through a Bond that thrummed silently between them;
'A soft blanket of snow covers everything
soundless beneath my feet.
Reflecting stars as bright as any in that velvety firmament.
And everywhere silence, everywhere peace.
Tonight, Catherine, the park is enchanted,
Your world is enchanted,
And all around me - only beauty…
...The starlight, the moonlight, the snow -
Tonight is indeed beautiful, Vincent.
But it’s a night to be held close and warm,
away from the icicles that shimmer so prettily.
A fireside beckons -
Melting winter’s icy touch.
Candles glow -
And I dream of seeing their light reflected in your eyes,
The warmth of the fire-glow in your hair.
To sit with you and watch the flames....
......To watch their pictures, listen to their stories -
I too, have dreamed, Catherine,
Dreamed of how such a moment would be
.
And on this magical night,
This truly beautiful night,
How could dreams not come true?’
Catherine stopped walking, her heart racing. Some stillness about Vincent beckoned her to watch him closely. The night of magic enfolded them in its soft embrace, and they became as one, the only two people on this earth, eyes only for one another. Vincent’s eyes, blue and bright, were filled with love and tenderness as he drank in Catherine’s beauty, and could not wrench his gaze from her.
For long moments each waited, almost as if some signal would give a command to do something that each of them longed for. Catherine could feel, could see Vincent’s breath upon the cold night air, it warmed her face, fanned her cheeks, and for one delirious moment her breath almost stopped as she became convinced that he was going to kiss her. His face just mere inches from her own blotted out the stars above them, and he brought his head closer, nearer to the fullness of her lips that beckoned him. Catherine waited, hoped, prayed, that he would continue. The pulse upon her throat beat erratically, when suddenly Vincent’s lips changed direction, and instead of descending down to her own, he reached forwards and kissed her forehead, bringing with it a touch of disappointment that reduced Catherine to tears.
Why?
Why had he done that? He’d come so close. And it wasn’t just mere wishful thinking on her part. For one electrifying moment his intention had been plain. He was going to kiss her.
Gathering her emotions under some control Catherine stilled her racing heart before attempting to meet his eyes once again. Quietly composed, his eyes spoke of nothing untoward, and Catherine sighed, attempting a question that was long over due.
“Why Vincent?”
Cocking his head to one side, in a gesture that Catherine loved so much, Vincent whispered innocently, “Why what?”
“You know what I am talking about. Don’t deny it. I know the signs, I saw it coming, I lived in hope, but you stopped, changed your mind at the last, why?”
Vincent pretended to misunderstand, grateful that Catherine could not see the blush that stained his throat, and rose unwillingly to his cheeks. “Catherine, you speak in riddles this night. Perhaps you are colder than you think.” he attempted a chuckle.
“I’m not cold Vincent. And you know damn well what I meant. Do you want me to spell it out for you?”
“No.” Vincent whispered. He understood only too well. “Catherine, this night, this magical night, for a moment I let myself believe, I let myself imagine that the dream could become reality. I was wrong to assume too much.” he lowered his head, lest she saw there the tears that gathered in his eyes.
“Oh Vincent!” Catherine hugged him hard, pulling him closer against her, moulding herself to his body, to his warmth, beneath the folds of his cloak, “Oh my love, “ she murmured, feeling his pain, “don’t you know that without you I am incomplete? Vincent this love we share, it drives us, we are approaching the threshold of another world Vincent, haven’t you felt it? We are changing. What we had before is no longer enough. If the dream needs to be brought to reality for you, then no less for me. Vincent you once said, that one-day if we could pass through the fears, there would be a future for us. Do you remember?”
“How could I not?” his husky voice thrilled her, it was filled with longing. Catherine shivered, her voice deepening with emotion, “Vincent now is the time to face those fears and move through them. I am ready Vincent. The question is are you?”
Shaking his head, Vincent stated flatly, “I don’t know Catherine. The risk is too great. You don’t know what it is you ask of me. I don’t know myself. You have seen me. You have seen me lost to my darkness. If killing is a passion and love is a passion, how then can I know the difference when each emotion is at its highest. How can the dark one differentiate between the two? Catherine I could kill you!”
“All I’m asking for Vincent is a kiss, for now that is.” Catherine smiled tremulously at him trying to ease the moment, but Vincent was unrelenting, “That’s as maybe, but a kiss can lead to...other things...a kiss started might not be enough. Catherine I know, believe me I do know what it is you long for. I find it incomprehensible that one such as you could want one such as me, in that way. And yet I glorify in the knowledge, but with that glory comes my greatest fear. To allow the expression of our love to unfold Catherine...” he sighed, shaking his head, “I can’t I just cant, Catherine the risk is too great.”
Leaning her forehead against his chest, Catherine held onto the edges of his cloak, “I want you so much Vincent.” she confessed, hearing him snatch a lung full of air at her words, “Sometimes the pain of this need is unbearably great, and I am certain you are wrong. Love is the greatest force in the universe, and I know that you could never hurt me. Vincent won’t you at least consider it. Just ponder it Vincent that’s all I ask. We, neither of us can carry on indefinitely like this, we both have needs Vincent, needs which are an extension of the love we feel for each other, and needs which demand an expression of that love. Vincent I’m offering you everything. I love you so much.”
Vincent shook his head, stunned to the core. That Catherine could utter these words, those same words of his own which he’d held cherished against his heart for so long, unable to voice. The thing was, there was truth in those words. He could not deny them. This expression of their love that Catherine spoke of did demand freedom. Every nerve ending of his tingled in anticipation, ready to embark upon the unknown, to go forward in their relationship. To pass through the fears that bound him, and set him free, but still the chains that bound him locked his heart in its mighty grip. And still his conviction of hurting the one he loved would not dissipate.
“I’m sorry Catherine, but we both know that what you ask is impossible.” He fought for control, and found an outlet, “You said earlier that there was something you wanted to tell me?”
Catherine felt the gathered tears fall. This solid wall of conviction that he had built up was not easy to pull down. So often she had tried, so often she had failed. His fear was immense. What she had to tell him could wait, although important, for now this problem between them surpassed it.
“Yes, it was about the case I’ve been working on, but there is something I need to ask you first “ Catherine drew a deep breath before asking, “Vincent do you love me?” This question was one that she had asked him over a month ago before she had gone away. And one he’d been unable to answer. Holding her breath Catherine waited, wondering if he might still be unable to give her the answer that she so longed to hear.
Vincent groaned. A soft rumbling sound that came up from deep within his chest, and broke free into the stillness of the night, seeming all the louder because of the quietness. He tried burying his face into her hair, tried not to give voice to his feelings, but they erupted from him nonetheless, “Yes.” he swallowed hard, “I do love you Catherine.”
Catherine closed her eyes, and for long moments glorified in those words. It was amazing how words altered ones whole perspective. She’d known that he loved her, of course she had, but to hear him confess in words, well, that was something wonderful. The words penetrated deep into her heart and soul, and she hugged him tighter, the reflex an action that truly stunned and unnerved him as he felt her soft and pliant body mould itself to his.
Together in that silent world of snow and ice, they held on to one another tightly, their hearts as one, their bodies unwilling to draw apart.
Yet it was all so traumatic.
Tears gathered and fell, for the hopelessness of their love. The despair so great it pained them. Vincent felt Catherine’s pain. It seared through him like a burning arrow straight to his heart. He knew how badly she wanted him, and he could no longer deny how much his own desire matched that need.
“What are we going to do?” Distraught Catherine’s voice caught on a sob, not expecting an answer for her question.
Vincent’s heart thudded painfully. Yes it was true they had reached a threshold in their relationship. The worst was neither could go back to what they’d had before, neither wanted to do, yet it was safer there, and Vincent wished he were there now. To be able to hold her with an innocence borne of friendship alone and not be torn apart by the feelings he now knew.
In a kind of limbo Vincent teetered on the brink of the unknown, fear grounding him from making that final commitment, as like voices on the wind Catherine’s love stole into every crevice of his heart preventing him from refusing to acknowledge it’s existence.
‘Voices on the wind that echo through my heart
And sing to me of our love -
A love so deep, so beautiful,
It is beyond belief.
And yet it is a love that tortures -
Tortures me with the wanting of you, the longing for you,
Feelings that I dare not name.
Why can’t it be as it was when I found you
As I watched you heal?
So pure, so simple then.
You held me as you left my world -
So tender a gesture,
So incomprehensible to me then -
A woman’s touch.
Now the hunger ravishes my soul
Each time I look upon you,
Each time you touch me.
And I curse this need that burns within me like a flame,
Tormenting every cherished moment that we share -
Every cherished moment of my heart’s pure love -
Infused by thoughts that spring from the darkness within me.
Voices on the wind that speak your name
Seeking solace for my troubled soul,
Longing for the beauty of innocence,
A way to love without desire,
A way to hold you close
And not lose myself to the longing to be lost in you.
For, Catherine, you are beyond the baseness of my imaginings,
The violation of my touch,
The helplessness of my thoughts -
Thoughts, at once profane,
And yet, somehow, beautiful,
They make me weep.
For I need your nearness,
I need to feel you close,
To read the words that I see written in your eyes,
Words that I know can never be spoken.
And I yearn to lose myself in dreams
Of something that can never be.
For dreams must be all that I have -
All that we can ever have.
Only voices on the wind,
Soft voices that whisper your name,
And promise me everything.’
Why did he still believe that the words could never be spoken? Perhaps by denying their existence he held the pain within.
Catherine had told him how much she loved him, and when asked he had reluctantly admitted that he loved her too.
Would it be so hard to tell her the words of his soul? The words his heart cried out day and night in relentless leaps and bounds?
He drew a deep breath, he had to say this, he just had to. “I do love you Catherine and if I was not as I am...” his words trailed away.
Catherine’s heart raced. She listened intently; she had patiently waited while Vincent had struggled to tell her something. Those words were worth the wait.
“Catherine...” Vincent gathered her closer still, burying his face tighter into her neck, drinking in the scent of her. It intoxicated him. He felt his body transform into a quivering, heated mass of longing.
Catherine waited. Unwilling to break the spell by movement or words.
For long tantalising moments Vincent’s hands traced along her waist, up her back, to her shoulders, down her arms, towards her breast. An involuntary shudder passed through her, and Vincent’s exploring fingers halted in their progress. His eyes when he pulled back to look into her face were filled with a mixture of longing and fear.
Catherine’s legs had turned to jelly, her whole body catching up with them by the second, and she hastened to reassure him, “With love Vincent, anything is possible.”
Vincent shook his head, “Not for me Catherine.”
“Especially for you!” her voice rich with desire frightened him. Never before had they behaved like lovers. Never before had they allowed their emotions to get the better of them. Realising the danger, Vincent pulled away from her arms. The cold air rushed in heavy as they broke contact and Catherine shivered.
“Now you are cold?” Vincent teased, his eyes lighting up.
“So come back.” Catherine smiled, “Please Vincent.” she reached for him, but he took another step away, “I think it is time I took you home Catherine. You will have had sufficient night air to help you sleep by now I think.”
Catherine searched his eyes. The atmosphere between them stretched and vibrated with unbearable tension, and Vincent’s attempt at putting them back onto an even keel was not working.
“I don’t want to go home. I want to stay with you.” She was adamant.
For long moments Vincent tried to calm his racing heart.
“That would not be wise Catherine.” he spoke softly, lowering his eyes from her gaze.
But Catherine was not to be put off. Bobbing her head she looked back up into his face, catching him unawares, making him gasp. His eyes bore the raw longing that he’d tried so hard to hide, and when Catherine saw it hope soared within her.
“Or perhaps it would be Vincent.” she told him sincerely. “While you are like this, so vulnerable, perhaps it would be the right time to be together.” Stunned Vincent looked at her warily, trying to establish the train of her thoughts. Her heart thudded excitedly alongside his, and that alone unnerved him greatly.
Stepping closer Catherine caught him to her before he had a chance to realise, moulding herself against his hard frame, causing a moan of delight to break from her unwilling, as she felt his arousal hot and hard against the pit of her belly. Wantonly she rubbed herself against him there, hearing Vincent’s gasp and laboured breathing, and Catherine felt jubilant that it took supreme effort for Vincent to pull himself away from her. His eyes were haunted as he stared down at her. Catherine’s mouth formed into a knowing smile that did little for his self-esteem. His breathing hard and fast as if he’d been running, Vincent stood shamed before her, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, yet unable to turn from her and flee.
“There’s no shame in your desire for me Vincent.” Catherine told him softly. The words dripping from her lips like honeycomb. Vincent could almost taste their sweetness, and how he longed to feel her softness moulded against him once again. How he desired the warmth of her body against his. Groaning, he at last turned away. “For me there is.” he rasped, gasping for air.
“No Vincent.” Catherine reached for and held onto his arm. Vincent felt fire and ice from her touch race through his limbs and score his brain. He shuddered. “You should go now Catherine.” His voice rasped.
Catherine was triumphant. They were so close.
As Vincent’s body began to tremble, Catherine reached for him again, drawing him tentatively closer to her, caressing him gently as he fought against the desire raging out of control throughout his body...
*** *** ***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.
*** *** ***Chapter Three
Catherine awoke some three hours later. Stretching lazily, she stifled the sound of a yawn, and surveyed the chamber around her. The candles had burned low now, yet amongst the shadows she could clearly detect Vincent’s sleeping form in the large armchair alongside the stove.
It wasn’t often that she was afforded such a precious sight. To be able to sit and stare and drink in every part of this man was a rarity. Something to hold safe and protected within her heart. From his feet up, Catherine ran her gaze. Knee high boots gave way to jeans within which muscled thighs tantalised her eyes to move on upwards, resting for long delicious moments on his groin. Catherine squirmed. Even in sleep he was large, how she yearned to touch him there.
Dragging her eyes away from that place she shivered. The many layers of clothing did little to hide from her hungry eyes the physique of the man. The broad shoulders, muscled arms and broad chest. Catherine wondered how extensive his covering of fur was. She had longed to know for some time. Was it the usual way but denser?
Reaching his face, the face she knew so well and loved every part of, a whimper escaped her. God she loved him, every inch of him, he was so beautiful.
Unguarded thoughts raced through her mind,
I see your face.
It holds no fear for me - only a sense of wonder.
I see your gentleness -
And through that gentleness - only beauty.
The beauty of your face, of your hair, of your eyes.
And in those eyes I see such compassion and love,
More love than I have ever known -
A love that would sacrifice all...
There is a sadness about you
I see it in the depths of your eyes,
I feel it in the depth of my soul.
You can only dream,
Dream of a life that can never be.
Forever bound by a world with no sunshine, no rain,
Because my world is unable to see past its prejudice,
Cannot see the beauty beyond the different-ness.
You found me on that dark and dreadful night,
You saved my life with your love.
Through your strength I have found strength,
And I love you...
Vincent stirred, stretched, and offered Catherine the rare opportunity of seeing him yawn. The long fangs revealed were sparkling white, and sent shudder after shudder coursing through Catherine’s veins. One blue eye opened, and then another, blinking rapidly, a little perturbed at Catherine having seen him like this. He regained his composure quickly, thinking as always of her, “Did you sleep well?”
Catherine looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap, murmuring, “Yes.”
Instantly Vincent was on his feet and beside her, “Is something wrong?”
“No nothing is wrong.” How could she tell him that the sudden end to her dreaming had brought her sorrow? She would have loved to have sat and explored every inch of him while she could without his awareness.
“Then what is it? I feel unrest within you?”
She didn’t want to tell him, but could think of nothing else, “I was watching you as you slept” she confessed guiltily.
Vincent swallowed with difficulty; something was definitely amiss here.
“And?” he felt prompted to ask.
“And I loved what I saw.” Catherine’s eyes met his, “It was a rare opportunity to study you. I couldn’t help myself.”
Vincent smiled, brushing the hair back off her face, “Then we are even. I too watched you as you slept.”
Catherine sighed, relieved, then let out a snort of humour as a sudden impish thought hit her.
“What is it?” Vincent asked intrigued.
“I was just wondering if I might be permitted to study more of you when you are awake.”
Vincent drew in a deep shuddering breath. Why did this conversation keep cropping up? He decided again to ignore it.
“Are you thirsty? Stay here I’ll fetch you some tea.”
“Vincent. No! Stay. For goodness sake stop running out on me. You know we have to face this.”
“I don’t know if I can.” he whispered fearfully, refusing to look at her.
“Vincent we get to spend so little time together. We have known one another for over three years, but we know so little about one another. At least I know so little about you.”
“What you know, is all you need to know.” Vincent told her, a little irritable.
“I don’t believe that Vincent. There are many things that you keep from me.”
“Such as?”
“The Bond for one. Vincent please trust me. Give me the pleasure of knowing you as you know me. I want this. When I go away I feel so alone. If I could feel your heart alongside mine as you can feel me, it would bring me so much contentment, so much peace.”
“Feeling another’s heartbeat is not all that the Bond provides Catherine, you may be unprepared for all that there is.”
“If you mean I will get an inkling into the deepest soul of your darkness, then I would honour that. Please Vincent, I want to know all there is to know about you. I feel I have merely scratched the surface. Let me in Vincent, please.”
Vincent sighed deeply. In many respects she was right, but he couldn’t agree, he just couldn’t.
“Vincent have you stopped to think, that my sharing with you in the Bond might be our destiny. Perhaps you have been granted a gift that will help another understand you and all that you have to contend with. Why else would it act two way?”
Vincent’s startling blue eyes gazed into her own, he nodded just a little, “I have never thought of that.” he told her, leaving Catherine jubilant.
“Then you’ll let me in?” she asked hopefully.
“Perhaps just a little. There are some things Catherine I would not want you to know of.”
“Some things such as your desire for me?”
Vincent gasped.
“I do know Vincent. I do know how your body desires mine, Bond or no Bond. I know the signs, body language and all that. You shouldn’t feel ashamed Vincent, it’s a normal human response.”
“And I’m a normal human I suppose!” Vincent snapped and started pacing the floor. He was agitated, Catherine could see that, but she went on relentlessly.
“One day Vincent, you and I are going to make love together”, ‘or we will if I have anything to do with it’ she added to herself, watching how he accepted this piece of news.
Vincent swung on her, his eyes deep pools of anger, his mouth opened and closed as he fought to deny it and couldn’t.
“Don’t fight the need Vincent, it will happen. You do want to love me don’t you Vincent?”
There they were! Those unspoken words!
Vincent fell to his knees; the words chasing around and around in his head.
“Leave me Catherine!” he seethed, “Go back Above. I fear for you if you stay.”
“Can’t give me an answer huh?” Catherine left the bed; “No matter Vincent we both know the answer. All right I’ll go back Above if that’s what you really want. Perhaps this next five weeks separation after the two we’ve just had will benefit us. Who knows, what is it they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder?”
Vincent was on his feet in seconds, grasping her upper arms tightly, “Why do you goad me Catherine!”
“Because I’ve tried all else. I’ve been patient. I’ve waited. I’ve hoped. I’ve yearned. I love you Vincent. I want you. You! All of you. I want to spend my life with you. Only you have to believe that Vincent, you have to believe that you can accept this from me. Only then Vincent, only then can we pass through the fears and beyond them. With love anything is possible. Remember that.”
Vincent’s arms dropped to his sides, and defeated he let his body fall into the chair, as Catherine stood for long moments watching him, “See you in five weeks my love.” she spoke tenderly, “You will know when I have returned.” With that she turned, picking up her overnight bag in passing, and left. Her defiance the only thread that kept her from crying all the way home.
*** *** ***
Standing at his gateway to the world, Vincent looked up at the starry heavens, as he always did on his jaunts up into the park. Catherine had been gone less than two weeks and already he missed her. He wondered if she had missed him. For he had tried, if only a little to let some of the Bond slip her way, allowing her to feel if nothing else the peaceful feel of his heart beating alongside hers and hoped that it would convey the love he felt for her. But the long weeks apart had been hard, cold and callous and though he had come no further in believing he and Catherine had a future together he could not deny her the secret yearnings of his heart.
Always in my heart, always on my mind,
Always filling my soul with longing to be together
as those who love are together.
We part, as daybreak stains the sky -
I leave - retreating to my world of night,
Only able to return with the darkness.
Sometimes I curse a fate that forbids me the sunshine.
And reiterates the knowing
That I should tear away the ties that bind.
But, Catherine, how could I bear the pain?
How could I live a life without you?
My selfishness tears me apart, poisons me,
Yet what can I do but accept the gratitude
That same fate that made you mine?
That gave me so much love?
And so I remind myself anew
When contentment is lost and hours are long,
That what we share is beyond togetherness,
Beyond any dream.
And even though I cannot be with you,
You are always, always in my heart.
*** *** ***
Triumphant and a little bemused Catherine tried to unravel the chaotic thoughts that came to her from Vincent during their time apart, “No wonder he wouldn’t let me in”, she laughed to herself on more than one occasion, “and no wonder he has difficulty understanding the complexity of his desires.” For it seemed to her that he would continually take one step forward and two steps back, like someone crossing a violent river by way of stepping stones, fearful of taking that next step.
Catherine chuckled to herself,thinking, ‘it reminds me of a cat that crosses the road in front of a car, and is almost at the verge when it runs back the opposite way and gets flattened. All it knows is that it was safe where it was, while the unknown could be fraught with hidden dangers.’ Her eyes brightened as she realised the truth of her words, the likeness to a cat especially. Nonetheless Catherine hugged herself with glee as Vincent allowed more and more of himself to come through to her, it brought him close even when they were so far apart.
It also provided her with a merit of peace when she needed it the most. The case she was working on was a harrowing one and almost broke her heart, and try as she might not to involve herself too deeply it was becoming more and more impossible.
It was far worse than the Nolan case she had previously handled.
On that occasion the victim had died and his father was on trial for murder. Catherine remembered it well.
A man who was abused during his own childhood had continued to grow and abuse his own wife, telling her it was for her own good that he beat her, and that he loved her. Molly Nolan on the other hand, had craved to hear her husband say he loved her so much that she almost glorified in those beatings just to hear him say it. And yet she had also feared those beatings. And when her husband beat their son, Molly had feared so much for her own life that she had not gone to her son’s aid, and Richard Nolan had killed his son Jonathan with a fatal blow that had fractured his son’s spinal column.
Catherine could well remember how that case had affected Vincent too, and even though the boy’s father was eventually found guilty and sent to prison, it did not take the bitter ashes away from their mouths. She could remember afterwards when she and Vincent had been speaking about the case, and Vincent’s words to her, ‘how can we love life when children suffer as they do’ and her reply, ‘ because at least we can help those children that do cross our paths.’ Vincent and Catherine vowed they would help as many child victims as they could in order for Jonathan’s death not to have been in vain.
Catherine thought about those words now, and how they proved more meaningful. For Rachel was alive, and she had come through the abuse, although the scars within would take many years to heal, and only then if Rachel was shown true love.
Her resolve thus set Catherine knew that she must pull out all the stops if she was to make certain that Rachel’s parents went to prison for their crime, and then do something that would ensure that they never gained custody of Rachel ever again.
And so she was pleased that Vincent was allowing her to feel a part of him, for right now so far away, with such a distressing case to handle, Catherine had never felt so alone or so helpless. And she missed the comfort of Vincent’s arms so very much.
*** *** ***
The orange lady was coming again!
Rachel’s tender heart soared as she watched Catherine alight from the taxi, and twirled around happily mindless of the other children round about.
The dormitory was full now, all the other children having returned from the homes they had stayed in during the festive season, bringing with them all their new toys and clothing. Rachel didn’t mind that they had so much because she had Vinny now, and he was all that she needed.
She took Vinny everywhere with her and he slept close to her heart in bed at night.
Her gentle protector was just like he that protected the orange lady.
Watching the door, Rachel held Vinny close, whispering into his ear and holding him up so that he too would see the orange lady the moment she came through the door.
When she did, Rachel’s heart raced and a smile lit her face and her eyes, not unnoticed by Molly Cook who frowned with disapproval.
Catherine had only eyes for Rachel as she stepped inside the dormitory, her eyes searching first to Rachel’s bed then finding it was empty as it would be at ten o’clock in the morning, she glanced to the window and smiled with pleasure to find Rachel there.
The smile reached her eyes as she walked toward the child, her heart full to see the pleasure returned.
“Hello Rachel, it’s so nice to see you again.”
Rachel nodded, and bent another finger over. Six times now. Six times that the orange lady had been to see her, coming almost every other day now.
“Are you well? How ‘s the lion?”
“He’s okay.” Rachel replied. “He missed you.”
Catherine smiled. She had come to know that Rachel’s reliance upon her was growing, but she would not allow anyone to know that, instead the past twelve days conversation had been through the mediator of the cuddly lion.
Everything Rachel felt was transferred to him, as if he felt those things. Catherine understood and now she spoke using him as a mediator.
“It’s a nice day today lion, I wondered if you would like to come for a walk with me?”
Rachel’s eyes lit up. She gasped, for she had been thinking just before the orange lady’s arrival that with the sun shining so brilliantly, it would be fun to go outside today.
Rachel held the lion’s mouth to her ears and nodded, “he says he would like that.” She told Catherine happily.
“Well I’ve asked Dr. Johnson, and he approves, but he felt that the lion might like you to come with us, won’t you ask him to see if he would?”
Rachel nodded, her eyes dancing with delight, and placed the toy to her ear again, “yes he would like me to come too.”
Catherine reached forward, and stroked the cuddly toy. In her heart Rachel felt as though the orange lady had touched her too. That touch felt good, warm and caring and Rachel ached to feel it again.
“Let’s go then shall we?” Catherine held her hand out anticipating Rachel to place the toy in her hand as she had done on previous occasions, suddenly gladdened when Rachel placed her own hand there instead. Warmly Catherine smiled down at her, and led her towards the exit.
On their way out Catherine encountered Molly Cook, who hovered near the door obviously wanting to say something.
“You go through Rachel, put on your shoes and coat, and don’t forget your scarf, hat and gloves, the sun may look warm, but the day is quite cold outside.” She ushered the child through the door, as she stood back and asked Molly Cook, “You have something you want to say to me?”
Molly pursed her lips into a thin straight line; “You are very perceptive Miss Chandler, a pity you don’t use it to see where you are leading Rachel.”
Catherine frowned, “I’m taking her out for the day, I thought you knew that? Dr. Johnson approves.”
“That’s not what I meant.” The older woman snapped.
“Then what did you mean?”
“Rachel is becoming close to you. Just what do you think will become of her the day you step through that door and return no more? Have you ever stopped to think what that will do to her Miss Chandler?”
Catherine gasped. Actually she hadn’t. So caught up in the case was she, and so eager to resume her life with Vincent that she hadn’t stopped to think what her visits to Rachel would do to the child. It was obvious that Rachel cared for her, even if the toy did mediate, but Catherine had truly felt that giving of herself in this way would benefit the child, even if it were only temporary.
“You’re right.” Catherine told Molly, “I hadn’t considered those things. But I shall from now on.”
“When you take her out today, better you speak of your return to New York, and make her understand that she doesn’t figure in your future plans Miss Chandler. You think you are doing good coming here, earning her trust, but when you no longer come to see her, it is I who has to pick up the pieces, and believe me Miss Chandler I’ve seen from past experiences how small those pieces can be. Believe me, a young heart that is broken Miss Chandler can shatter into a million tiny fragments.”
Like her own heart had since Gerald had made it plain that they had no future together.
Catherine felt tears prick at her eyes. “Is there nothing I can do?”
“Short of weekend visits, every weekend, no. And let’s face it Miss Chandler regular weekend visits from so far away are never practical even if they could be afforded.”
Catherine nodded, “I’ll speak to her. Don’t worry.”
However Catherine soon discovered that it was easier said than done.
*** *** ***
Vincent had never known such turmoil.
As Catherine’s two-week absence went into three, his mind ached from all the thoughts he had run through it in that time and he seemed no nearer the answer now than he ever did. That he loved Catherine was not the question here, it was the future, their future that worried him greatly. Not only that but something else was worrying him now.
Despite the words of love and determination Catherine had left him with, he couldn’t understand why he kept feeling strands of love coming from her and directed at a third party. Catherine very cleverly disguised this feeling, by stamping down hard on their connection, but that only served to make him even more suspicious and it seemed to him that her love for someone was growing stronger by the day. So much so that it spilled over the connection and came through to him.
He tried to tell himself that Catherine was undertaking a very emotional case, that of an abused child, but somehow the doubts kept rising, and being forced away. Nonetheless they returned to haunt him in his quietest times, and he began to feel ill at the thought that he could possibly be losing her.
When he had believed that she was his life it was wonderful even though on more than one occasion he had insisted she find a life for herself Above. In all that time a part of him had glorified that she never sought to find someone while at times grievous that he was preventing her from doing so by continuing to be a part of her life.
He wished he had the strength to make her leave him for good, but a secret part of him knew that it would kill him to do so.
He loved her so deeply, and in another life he would want nothing more than to love her as she wanted him to love her.
Many times he would just sit thinking about all the times he had shared with her all the while yearning that things could be different, like the time he had felt her respond to Elliot’s kiss and her words to him afterward about that. He thought of it now, and those same feelings he’d had before returned to haunt him once again;
You wished it were me…
Those words brought me such joy and such pain
The pain of knowing I must not dwell upon them too long
Lest they take me in their hands
And will not let me go.
But oh the joy of knowing you would love me as I am
If only I could let you.
Oh Catherine, if only I could let you.
Just to hold you close – closer than a heartbeat
To smell the softness of your hair –
Is a wonderment I thought I would never know –
And this must be enough
Ours can never be a life without limits,
Nor a love without limits.
Such a love can only live within my imagining.
Yet (that night), for a moment, I let myself dream
Because of the words that you spoke,
because of a remark that you made.
I remembered all too clearly how only hours before –
Without thought – I had kissed your hand.
Catherine, were your lips so far away?
He could remember that night all so clearly and now on remembrance his eyes swam with unshed tears.
When Catherine had caught her hand on the rose bush, he had thought nothing of kissing away the hurt there. And for sweet seconds he had believed that something magical should stem from that. But then a knock at her door had stolen away the magic and the moment was lost. Could they ever recapture such a moment? Should they ever attempt to do? The more Vincent thought about his relationship with Catherine the more tormented he became and his mind was filled with expression as he tried to unravel his chaotic thoughts;
Sometimes – so often now – when you are near,
I feel myself becoming lost to the darkness,
To the night within
Thoughts betray me
Now – filled with a fire – a frenzy,
Filled with all I tried to hide from you, my Catherine
.
Thoughts born of that part of me not human
Feelings that I cannot call love.
For love is betrayed by that which I feel in my body
All that I have always denied to you, to myself
Now floods my mind
The fever within bursts forth
,
The pain my body feels
Needs to explode.
Thoughts that spring unbidden
Shame me.
They violate your softness
With the hardness of my body
Such thoughts wretched from the depths of my soul
I despise – for they cannot be human.
In dreams – in waking dreams
We spend time when there is no fear,
When I can find peace – without torment
Without the completion that I can only find –
In blood.
Catherine, know that I would rather die than hurt you,
And find it in your heart to forgive me.
Forgive me if I lose myself too deeply in your arms,
If my heart beats too wildly when you are near,
Forgive me, Catherine, for loving you too much.
Now continuously those words, the ones that Catherine had left him with, he still found he had no answer for. It was true that he loved her, and he needed her, he would be lying to himself if he made himself believe that their need of each other was different, but he knew he could not openly admit to those desires. He had to bury them deep so deep that even he could not retrieve them in those silent moments.
Such a life was not meant for one such as he.
And yet the endless possibilities stretched out before him into infinity as he allowed himself to dwell upon the secret yearnings of Catherine’s heart.
They told him of things he had never believed possible for him.
Even so, these few weeks apart something was changing, and Vincent didn’t like to analyse too closely the reasons behind that change.
While he became convinced of her love for him, he could hold her off, and rejoice in that, but daily a subtle shift came over the Bond to him. Her thoughts now were for someone else and Vincent came to know a great despair and began to hate the feelings of jealousy by believing one such as he were not entitled to have them. But these feelings coming through from his Catherine… Vincent stopped himself short. What right did he have to refer to Catherine as his?
If she were truly his, then he would truly be hers. And he could never be that. So what right did he have to make claim to her in that way?
Sitting in his large winged chair with his hands neatly folded beneath his chin; Vincent let his thoughts drift inwards to some of the happy times he had shared with Catherine. The one that stood out the strongest was the night beneath the bandstand, when it had rained and she had glorified in those raindrops falling upon her skin and her hair. How he had loved that moment.
She had thrown herself at him without restraint or forethought like some child sharing her joy with him. How good it had felt to have her close to him like that.
And for some days afterwards he could still remember the contours of her body slick with water against the hardness of his own, and the bittersweet feelings that had stirred within him.
If he was not as he was…he swallowed with difficulty a shudder coursing through him at the endless possibilities. If only he could believe as easily as Catherine could believe that they should be together as one like that.
Pulling his journal and pen toward him, he opened it at a fresh page.
It had been so hard to write during Catherine’s absence, but now the words spilled from him;
Long since the night has passed
And I have learned to love and be loved,
Always Catherine has taught me to overcome my aloneness,
To lose myself in her warmth,
To lose ourselves in the night,
To share with her whatever may be – whatever may come.
She takes my hands in love,
Those hands she knows have oft times killed.
She holds my face, touches my hair,
And I know the wonderment of being loved.
I hold her in my arms
With no fear of harming her,
Yet should I allow my feelings to be as my dreams,
I would fear,
For dreams perhaps are best forgotten.
For her I face the beast,
For her it does my bidding
Yet if I should lose myself in Catherine
Would the beast return unbidden?
Would it defile her beauty with its ugliness?
For us there can never be a life without limits
But even so – I hold more in my arms than I have even dreamed,
She gives more love than I have ever known,
And all I can give her is what I am and what I have –
But not my dreams –
For even now the darkness of aloneness is sometimes there,
Because of what can never be –
Because of dreams.
Thoughtfully, Vincent lay aside his pen, re-reading his words and sighed deeply. For the first time the reason behind his wishes that Catherine were not so far away greatly disturbed him.
*** *** ***
Falling into step beside the orange lady, Rachel couldn’t have been happier. For the first time in her life she knew what it was to love someone.
This beautiful lady was a joy to be with, and seemed to understand children far more than those who looked after her needs at the home, and Rachel walked alongside Catherine with a spring in her step, anticipating the way ahead.
Since they had left Catherine had been deep in thought.
Molly was right, she was stringing the child along. At first to win her trust so that she might get the child to open up about her past and the evil things done to her, but after almost two weeks Catherine knew it was far more than that. The child was so pretty and in other circumstances would be so full of life, and Catherine desperately wanted to remove the sorrow from her eyes. To see those bright eyes dancing with mischief and full of love. Catherine pulled herself up short. Glancing down at the bonny head bobbing alongside her as they walked, Catherine realised just how much the child meant to her. It stunned her and too late she realised that she would find it equally as hard to walk away as in trying to explain to Rachel why she would. Finally Catherine decided to leave it for today, to think about telling Rachel on another occasion when she’d had the time to think about it more fully. For now they would enjoy the day together.
“Have you ever been to a park?” Catherine decided to direct the question at Rachel.
Rachel stopped and looked up at Catherine, “No.” For a moment Rachel’s eyes clouded over and Catherine noticed at once.
“What is it? What makes you so sad?”
“Mummy told me if I was good she would take me.” Rachel’s lips trembled.
“And she never took you?”
“I was never good.”
“I can’t believe that Rachel. What did you do?”
Rachel halted and turned her face away, but Catherine saw the tears drip from her lashes.
“I’m sorry Rachel. Please don’t cry. Look will you let me hug you?” the urge to do so was so strong, but from the report of Rachel’s life Catherine knew that a hug to Rachel meant some ulterior motive that would cause her pain.
For long moments Rachel stared wide-eyed at Catherine. She so wanted to believe that the orange lady meant her no harm, but she could not allow it. Instead she held out the toy lion.
Understanding at once, Catherine clasped the cuddly toy against her, kissing his head and whispering soothing words to him as Rachel watched cautiously.
“Sometimes”, Catherine told the toy, “children are taken to the park as a treat for being good, but at other times big people want to have fun too, and they take little children to share this joy with them. It doesn’t matter if that child has been good or bad, for sometimes even bad children are hurting and need to be cheered up. And it doesn’t matter if you are a bad lion or a good lion because I want to take you and Rachel to the park, and because I want to have some fun there, and would like you to join me.”
Rachel’s tears dried up, and a smile appeared upon her face, “His name is Vinny.” She told Catherine. “ I named him after the lion you know that protects you.”
Catherine paused before answering; “Actually Rachel Vincent isn’t a lion.”
“But you said…”
“I know I said this toy reminds me of Vincent, because Vincent does look like a lion in a way, but he is really a man.”
“I don’t understand.”
Catherine wondered how much she could trust Rachel with, and she also wanted to tell the child about Vincent’s world very much.
“Rachel can you keep a secret?” the moment she had said it, Catherine wished to take it back, as fear spread across Rachel’s face, and she stepped away from Catherine, her trust shattered.
Quickly Catherine realised her mistake and tried desperately to reassure the child, realising too late that keeping secrets to this child went hand in hand with abuse.
“I’m sorry Rachel, please don’t be afraid I won’t harm you Rachel. This secret…” she saw the child flinch away, and hurried on “it’s a place, a good place where children play and are loved. The people there look after each other; they sing and have fun there. They learn that they can come and go as they please, and it is a place of warmth and light. But it is a secret place because the people that live there want it kept that way, in case some bad person finds out about it and ruins this beautiful place for all those good people.” As she spoke she watched Rachel’s face soften, saw the fear drain away. “I’d like to take you to that place Rachel.” Catherine found that she had spoken from the heart and was amazed at how true those words were. She so wanted to take this child into Vincent’s world, and suddenly, knew that she could not part from her.
These emotions crowded out her usual good reasoning. They went beyond friendship. Beyond mere care for the child. Catherine realised with a sickening jolt that she loved Rachel.
“Is Vincent there?” Rachel looked at her hopefully, stunning Catherine that she should ask.
“Well yes he is. It is his home. Vincent is a very special person, and everyone that lives there loves him very much.”
“Do you live there?”
“No. I live in the city, but I visit the secret place often.”
Rachel’s face filled with sorrow.
“What is it?” Catherine asked her gently, “Please tell me. I want to help if I can.”
“I want to live with you.”
Catherine gasped, “Oh but that’s impossible…”
The tears gathered again in Rachel’s eyes, and for once Catherine was at a loss as to know how to ease them. She hadn’t thought past taking Rachel to live Below. She knew she would be happy there, but to have her live at the apartment! It just couldn’t happen, and now she had to dash the child’s hopes without seeming that she didn’t want her. “I have to go out to work Rachel. There would be no one to look after you while I was gone. You can’t live with me sweetheart. If you did I’d have to find someone to take care of you while I went to work.” She meant it kindly so was unprepared for Rachel’s outburst.
“No.” the tears ran unrelenting down the child’s cheeks, “No don’t leave me!” she sobbed, before snatching the cuddly toy from out of Catherine’s hands, and speeding off along the roadside.
Her heart in her mouth Catherine chased after her, “Rachel wait!” the traffic was thick and Rachel ran dangerously close to the curb, one slip…
Running faster, Catherine attempted three times to dive for the child, but each time, Rachel anticipated her move and sped away. People were looking, and the moment was embarrassing, but the thought that she might lose Rachel in the crowds was very frightening indeed.
There was only one thing for it, “Okay, Rachel listen to me. “ Catherine shouted after her, “You can live with me. Rachel can you hear me, I said…” the child stopped dead, her heart thudding from the long run and the sudden excitement.
The orange lady was taking her to live with her!
She turned, waited for Catherine to catch up with her and Catherine felt she had been tricked into something she would later regret, but just now, the joy of catching up with the child was the greatest emotion. “Don’t ever run away like that again, Rachel please. You really frightened me.”
Rachel stared up at Catherine, because for a moment she had anticipated a scolding for her actions and reached for Catherine’s offered hand warily.
“You shouldn’t have run off, because you put yourself into so much danger. You might have been run over, or knocked over by a pedestrian beneath the wheels of a lorry, but it wasn’t your fault it was mine, I should never have frightened you. Can you forgive me?”
Staring wide-eyed at the orange lady Rachel couldn’t believe her ears. For the first time in her life here was someone willing to take the blame, and this time for something that she had done. Rachel nodded, tucking her hand into Catherine’s and Rachel felt a funny feeling pass over her as Catherine squeezed her fingers affectionately and directed a warm smile at her.
“So are you ready to go to the park now?” Catherine smiled deeper.
Rachel nodded her joy such that she was unable to reply. The words seemed to stick in her throat.
*** *** ***
Sat in his high-backed wing chair, Vincent stared at a candle flame bending this way and that in fluid dance.
He’d had no peace all day. Three weeks without Catherine had reduced him into an almost nervous wreck.
Previously when she had been away from him, she had written often, this time there had been nothing.
And there was still those frightening chaotic emotions that Catherine had tried hard to smother, but nonetheless trickled through their connection and worried him greatly.
He tried to assimilate the changes that had occurred between them lately and see it from Catherine’s standpoint, but his overriding fear of hurting her prevented him from making much headway.
His dreams though were another thing.
In his dreams he could love her the way a man would love the woman who offered him everything.
And though once a deep friendship had bound them together Vincent now knew that their love had grown in such proportions that each needed to express that love for the other now. The driving need was relentless, and the one thing he could accept was that for Catherine these feelings had to be all the more intense because she had already loved, and she knew what it was she was missing.
He on the other hand could only imagine these things and wish that he were able to experience them.
There were times when he had overhead snippets of hushed conversation between lovers in the park. Words that they would use that would thrill him and he would stand still and absorb those words, imagining that they were directed at him. He craved them to be directed at him, and sometimes that craving became his undoing.
Thinking back to his and Catherine’s relationship Vincent could visualise all those occasions when they had held one another tightly, but there was those other times too, when Catherine would gaze for long moments into his eyes almost as if she waited for him to make the next move. On such occasions Vincent had held his breath, and when she had finally lain her head on his shoulder he had been filled with disappointment and relief at almost the same moment. But what she didn’t know, what she could never know, was how he had craved to take her lips beneath his, and whisper sweet endearments into her ear, and hear her say similar things to him.
He had watched such actions a hundred times from lovers in the park, and now as he remembered the sweet poignancy of those moments, the tears began to fall from his eyes.
If only he and Catherine could be that way together. If only it were that simple. If only he could speak the words that Catherine longed to hear him utter.
There are words - so many words
Locked in my heart
Never to be spoken
Lest they spoil the illusion.
The illusion of a love untouched and so pure
It is beyond man, beyond all reality,
The way love is meant to be – can only be –
For us.
Vincent sighed.
What if he were to speak those words, what if Catherine directed those tender endearments to him, what then would become of their love? Vincent knew that he couldn’t bear it if speaking the words each longed to say and hear changed things between them, nor bound Catherine to him for all time.
Catherine had a life Above, what right did he have to hold her to him by telling her the truth of his heart?
Once the illusion has gone, what is left?
But a man who is not a man
Lost in a love for a woman
Who deserves so much more than he could give.
So much more than he is worth.
Catherine I should make you leave, make you go,
Lest one day, in my weakness
I fall prey to my heart
And words are spoken that should remain silent,
Words that would destroy us,
Destroy everything that has been ours for so long.
His tears gathering Vincent forced back a guttural sob, knowing what he should do, but knowing that he couldn’t, nonetheless he made himself say the last few words of his heart out loud, in the hope that he would believe in them.
So leave me
Before my heart can bid you stay.
Leave my darkness for your light,
Leave my aloneness for your world
And let our dream, our illusion
Slumber on in its silence,
Forever.
Yes as hard as it may be, that was the only way forward even though it broke his heart to believe that, because if he allowed himself to believe in anything other than that, even the dream would be shattered. And while the dream remained in tact at least Vincent knew he could cope – just. Better to have the dream intact than to lose it through words.
Better to let the words remain unsaid and silenced, lest he lost everything that he held dear.
Yes better to ignore the secret yearnings of his heart.
Such things could never be for one such as he.
*** *** ***
Reaching the park, Rachel let go of Catherine’s hand and ran ahead of her. This was the perfect place.
She looked around her wildly, trying to decide what to go on first, when Catherine called to her, “Rachel, look there’s a big slide. Why don’t you climb the steps and slide down.” Rachel needed no second bidding.
Her eyes bright with joy Rachel looked in the direction Catherine pointed, her eyes alighting upon a bright green slide, with blue and yellow steps and a silvery part to slide down. She ran to the slide, looked up at the very many steps, and in her minds eye imagined what it would feel like to climb so high and slide down the other side.
There were a couple of other children already climbing the steps, Rachel followed them watching how they did everything, and when she reached the top, she sat down, curled her legs from under her, put Vinny upon her lap and pushed off. Catherine was waiting for her at the bottom, ready to catch her if she should fall off at the slide’s end, but Rachel put her feet down either side and came to a halt just in time. Catherine chuckled, “Wee that was some ride. You know Rachel, when I was a little girl my daddy would take me to the park and he’d take some polish with him and a cloth and he would polish the slide before I went on it to make it more slippery. It was great fun.”
Rachel’s eyes lit up at the thought that represented, and her eyes danced with joy.
“Have another go on the slide Rachel, have as many turns as you like.” Catherine told her.
Again and again Rachel climbed the steps and slid down, until out of breath, she stood and surveyed the other rides while contemplating what to go on next.
“How about learning to stretch and grow” Catherine laughed, indicating the climbing frame with bars of very many colours. “See how the other children do it. You have to wiggle your body through the bars, and climb up on the outside or the inside and let yourself hang from the top bar before letting yourself drop to the ground.” Rachel watched the other children. It looked fun, and leaving Vinny in Catherine’s care she followed their example, and was soon making Catherine hold her breath to see Rachel climbing higher and higher, anticipating each new foothold with the greatest of care.
Wiggling her body through the upper bars, Rachel fed herself round into the centre of the climbing frame that was shaped like an igloo until she could reach the bar to hang from. Then holding tight she let her body stretch before dropping to the floor without toppling over onto her knees.
Her face wreathed in smiles, she returned to Catherine, who told her, “Why Rachel you must be six inches taller now. That was some stretch.”
Rachel giggled, and ran away in the direction of the swings. Catherine followed feeling very happy, and told the child, “Swings were my favourite of all the rides in the park. Do you think anyone would notice if I rode on one now?” She looked around her, testing the swing with a hand held to its seat judging if it might take the weight of an adult, before carefully sitting upon it, and taking her feet off the floor.
“Let me show you what to do.” She pushed off from the ground with her toes, and with the toy lion held firmly between her knees Catherine let the swing fly forwards. “See you have to stretch out your legs when you go forward, and pull them back to go backwards, that way you can ride the swing, and make it go higher and higher. Now you have a go.”
There was a swing next to Catherine free, and Rachel tried to hoist herself up upon it, but it would not stay still. No matter how far Rachel pushed it back, she just could not wiggle her bottom onto the seat before it seemed to twist around her and out of her reach again.
Catherine slowed her swing to a standstill, alighting from it, to hold the chain of Rachel’s swing so that she might get on, but still it became apparent that Rachel just wasn’t tall enough.
Without thinking anything of it, Catherine stood behind the swing and stuffing the cuddly toy beneath her arm she attempted to lift Rachel from behind intent on pulling her onto the seat, when suddenly she felt Rachel stiffen in her arms and scream.
Horrified Catherine wondered what she had done, as Rachel bit and scratched her way free, tumbling from Catherine’s grasp to run away across the park and causing other parents in the park to call their own children back to them frantically.
Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment Catherine hurried after Rachel calling her name softly, when all at once police appeared in the park, and came running toward her.
It all happened so fast, and there was nothing she could do.
One moment her intentions were to hurry after Rachel and reassure her that she meant her no harm, the next she was being manhandled by two uniformed men, and handcuffed.
“Its not what it seems.” She cried frantically.
“Is the child yours?” she was asked.
“No, but she is in my care.”
“Why did she run away from you. Look at her she looks petrified.”
“She’s been abused by her parents, she didn’t trust me when I picked her up that’s all. I should have realised. Please let me go, I have to speak to her.”
“I’m sorry we can’t allow that. You will have to come with us down to the station.”
“But that’s impossible what about the child?”
“We’ll deal with the child don’t worry.”
“No, she doesn’t know you, she won’t let you take her anywhere.” Catherine was frantic now.
“What is your name?” the officer spoke almost as if he didn’t want to hear what she was saying.
“Catherine Chandler. I work for the district attorney’s office in New York. The child is a witness to the case I am working on.”
For a moment one officer looked across at the other, “Do you have any documentation to prove this?” one asked her.
“Yes. In my bag.” She fumbled with the zip, pulling her wallet free, and handed the officer her details.
“Well this certainly proves that you are who you say you are, but not about the child.”
“Look I promise you, the child is in my care. I took her out for the day. I’ve been very careful how I treat her lest I frighten her, but I forgot for one moment when I picked her up to put her onto the swing. It’s been so difficult having to think before I do anything for her, and its so unfair, because I’m not the criminal here, her parents are. People she should have been able to trust have done this to her.” Catherine was crying now, her sobs wracking through her body as much at the tragedy of Rachel’s life as to her own immediate predicament.
“Please. She won’t go with you. Let me go to her. If you try to get near her, she will run away and be lost.”
“Is that what happened earlier when she ran away from you in the street?”
“You know about that?”
“Yes someone notified us, and we followed you here and have been watching you ever since.”
It all made sense now. Catherine couldn’t understand why they had pounced upon her so quickly seemingly for nothing. Any other time a child kicking and screaming would have gone by as a child unwilling to leave the park to go home with its parents.
“Look Miss Chandler, this time we are going to give you the benefit of the doubt, but we will still escort you and the child back to the home nonetheless, just to make sure, all right?”
Catherine wasn’t happy about that. “If you must.” She sighed, “but we’ll walk there. I don’t want Rachel frightened by having to go in a police car.”
The two officers nodded, “I’ll go with her.” One said to the other, “You take the car and meet me back at the orphanage. I take it that is where the child is staying Miss Chandler?”
Catherine nodded, her gaze held firmly on Rachel who was watching warily from the other side of the park. Her heart sank by the way that Rachel was watching her and Catherine could see that the child mistrusted her motives of help completely.
Catherine felt as though she could weep.
*** *** ***To be continued in Chapter Four - click on 'Next' below:
Disclaimer
The stories found within this website have been written by and for lovers of the American television series Beauty and the Beast and no infringement upon the rights held by Ron Koslow, CBS, Republic Entertainment, Witt-Thomas Productions or any other Copyright holder to Beauty and the Beast is intended.
Furthermore all the stories found on this website belong to Wendy Tunnard de-Veryard, are protected by copyright and none should be copied, added to or subtracted from or altered in any way, without the prior authorisation of the author.
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