‘OK, Uriel, if you could be an animal other than a human, which one would you pick?’ My mind was still pondering that alpaca thing so this was the first question that came to mind. I liked ‘what if?’ conversations as they didn’t involve lies and there was nothing to set my teeth on edge.
‘Misty.’ Opal sounded so like my mother it was uncanny.
‘No, it’s all right. She’s attempting to distract me while we wait.’ At least Uriel understood me.
My aunt gave a funny little snort. I tabbed her as a show pony tossing its mane in displeasure.
‘I’ll start. I always think I’d want to be a dolphin,’ I confessed. ‘Fabulous swimming ability combined with huge smile: what’s not to like?’
A woman approached from behind Uriel, stethoscope stuffed into one pocket. Francie: it had to be. Petite, with a short brunette bob framing an elfin face, she struck me as appearing too young for the doctor’s coat, reminding me of Peace and Felicity when I caught them tottering about in our mum’s high heels. Opal’s face lit up on Francie’s arrival but Uriel had not yet noticed. Francie paused, not wanting to interrupt as Uriel had already started speaking.
‘If I were an animal I’d be a … ’ He rubbed his chest then leaned forward as an idea struck. ‘Yeah, I’d be a condor. Imagine flying above the Andes. Amazing.’ He stretched out his arms.
‘Yes, that would be amazing,’ said Francie.
Uriel leapt to his feet, the chair legs scraping on the floor with a horrid grating sound. If he had been a condor he would have squawked in surprise and shed a few feathers.
‘Hello there. I’m Francie Coetzee.’ She shook hands with Uriel in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘I guess you must be Uriel. Nice to see you again, Opal. And this has to be your niece; Misty, isn’t it?’ She laughed. ‘That sounds odd on a sunny day.’
‘Yes, I get that a lot.’
‘Sorry, I guess you do. Welcome to Cape Town.’ She slid out of her white coat and folded it over the back of a chair. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘We’re good, thanks.’ Uriel gestured to the round of barely touched drinks.
‘I’ll be back in a second.’ She went over to the counter to order a coffee.
I had tried not to be nervous for Uriel’s sake but I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer. ‘Well?’
Uriel’s eyes followed Francie as she chatted with the barista. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be feeling.’
Opal did not look happy; she had really thought she had cracked the case. ‘Please give it a chance. She’s a perfect match in age, Uriel.’
‘It’s not that I’m not grateful, Opal, for all your work. She’s pretty, and talented, but she doesn’t seem to stand out from the crowd for me—and my brothers said that was the first thing they noticed about their partners.’
‘Wait till she comes back and try telepathy.’ I shifted in my seat, ill at ease with the tension and Uriel’s disappointment. I hadn’t imagined the moment like this: I’d expected zap and we were getting zilch. Were we going to have to call in Crystal after all? I’d promised I’d sort it out for her. I was letting her down.
A man sitting across from us, who had been peacefully sharing a sandwich with a heavily pregnant woman, suddenly jumped up and thumped the table. The mum-to-be stared at him in shock. ‘What do you mean: it’s not my baby?’
‘Did I say that?’
‘Yes, you did!’
‘I was going to tell you—eventually.’
The man slapped the car keys on the table and walked out. ‘I’ll catch a bus home.’
‘Mason, Mason!’ She scooped up the keys and hurried after him. ‘I’m sorry!’
‘I don’t know how you can say that!’ exclaimed a nurse who was passing with two friends. ‘You always said you liked Benjamin. He is not a creep.’
I’d let go of the barrier I put around my gift.
Opal buried her head in her hands, knowing what was going on. I felt frantic. It is much easier to lose control than regain it after I’ve reached a certain point. Picture a game of spillikins: simple to drop them; next to impossible to pick them up without making others wobble. ‘Do something,’ she pleaded.
‘I am, I am.’ I tried to pull back the sticks of truth-telling that had escaped from me. My heart was pounding. I had to do this before Francie got back but she was already on her way.
‘I hate my job,’ growled the waiter to a surprised woman who had asked him to wipe the table. He wore a badge that declared him ‘Happy to help’.
‘Why are you working here then if it’s too much trouble to please a customer?’
He opened his mouth fully intending to apologize for his lapse in manners but out came: ‘Customers like you are always complaining. I can’t stand you moaners.’
Francie came back bearing a frothy latte. ‘There: I deserve this after a day of pain-in-the-neck consultants.’ She frowned. ‘Did I just say that out loud?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Uriel was now looking grimly amused. ‘Misty here is having one of her moments.’
Francie turned her attention to me. If she could read minds she had to know mine was shouting ‘Help!’ and ‘Sorry, everyone!’
‘She has a truth gift?’
‘Curse,’ I muttered.
‘And she lost control because she was … ’ Francie’s eyes flicked to Uriel, ‘worried that you might not be my soulfinder after all? Opal, what have you been scheming behind my back?’
Opal couldn’t duck this with a fib as she might under normal circumstances. ‘I wanted Uriel to meet you as we think there’s a possibility of a match. A strong likelihood. Your dates of birth are close and a soulseeker had a lead for him that mentioned a white building in Cape Town. I immediately thought of the hospital.’
Francie turned back to Uriel. ‘I’m sorry. Not that you aren’t a gorgeous man but there’s no chance, even with a soulseeker tip-off.’
Uriel blinked at her strong rejection. ‘Why? Shouldn’t we at least check with telepathy?’
She patted his hand. ‘Trust me, I know.’
‘How do you know? Have you located your soulfinder?’
‘No.’
‘Then why?’
She took a sip of coffee, eyes sparkling over the rim of her tall glass. ‘My soulfinder, when I meet her, is not likely to look like a GQ model.’
Oops: seems as if Opal’s file missed out some essential facts about Francie.
I have never seen Uriel blush so red before.
‘Awkward,’ I whispered.
‘I apologize for wasting your time,’ he said stiffly.
‘No worries. And I don’t think you have wasted a second of my time. Thank you for thinking of me. I’m flattered.’ She sipped her coffee, her gaze sweeping Uriel speculatively. ‘You may not be my match but I’m thinking it might be a good idea to introduce you to my twin sister.’
‘Twin?’ Uriel looked like he had been on the receiving end of a second sucker punch. Good job he was sitting down.
‘Yes, she’s called Tarryn. I can assure you that you won’t be wasted on her.’
I couldn’t help myself: I started to giggle. The threads of control I had gathered scattered to the four winds again. Opal was going to be so embarrassed she had landed Uriel in this situation.
‘You have a twin?’ Opal looked horrified. ‘How can I have missed that?’
‘Because she keeps a low profile in savant circles—doesn’t take part in the Net. She finds her gift … unpleasant and tries to keep it quiet.’ Francie nudged me. ‘As much as I like to hear you laugh, can you do us all a favour, Misty, and get a grip before you’re responsible for the sacking of several employees round here?’
‘I think I’d best leave. I’ll see … ’ I hiccupped. ‘I’ll see you at the car.’
I had myself back under control by the time Uriel, Opal, and Francie approached the Volvo.
‘Everything OK?’ I asked.
‘Strangely, as soon as you left, things returned to n
ormal,’ Francie said dryly.
‘Sorry about that.’
‘Are you still ready to come meet my sister? When Opal asked me to introduce you to younger people, I planned to take you to a barbecue Tarryn is holding tonight for some of her pupils. They’re your age, Misty, so I’d thought it would be more fun for you than hanging out with my doctor friends.’
I could hear that Francie was having doubts about launching me on her sister’s social event, especially as Tarryn could be ‘the one’ (second attempt). I decided it had to be Uriel’s call.
‘Do you want me there?’ Don’t be hurt if he sends you home, I told myself. I would be, of course, but I’d try really hard not to show it.
He took a moment to reply, crafting the most diplomatic answer he could manage, knowing I’d sense if he were lying. ‘I’m prepared to take the risk. But do you think, you could, you know, keep a grip on your gift, Misty?’
I drew a cross over my heart. ‘I promise. I’ll give it my best shot.’
‘That’s settled then. My car’s just over there.’ Francie waved to Opal. ‘I’ll bring them back to yours later. Say hi to Brand from me.’
I could tell my aunt would’ve liked to stay for the next stage in the hunt but she had promised to be back for the children’s bedtime.
‘Good luck!’ Opal called as she got into her car.
‘Tarryn’s expecting us.’ Francie led us over to a white BMW convertible. ‘Most of the people at the party have nothing to do with us savants so if it happens,’ she looked sideways at Uriel, ‘can you find a private spot? I’ve not given her any warning.’
‘I’ve no problem with that,’ said Uriel, his lips curving in a smile that suggested he was giving plenty of thought to what use he might put privacy with a newly discovered soulfinder. After the dent to his confidence that meeting Francie must have made, this guy bounced back quickly.
‘Feeling good about this one?’ I asked softly.
‘Strangely, yeah, though you’d think I’d learn from what happened earlier not to expect plain sailing. Tarryn. I love the name already.’
I patted his shoulder. ‘Great.’
Tarryn lived in a house in the Rondebosch suburb of Cape Town, not far from the hospital. Set in the grounds of the school where Tarryn worked, it was a sweet little bungalow with a covered porch that ran the length of the building, surrounded by a garden that needed no attention from Uncle Milo to make it flourish. Beyond the fence, the lushness continued as there were acres of playing fields, white uprights of rugby posts, fluttering nets of football goals, a cricket pavilion. The whole school setup had the air of privilege and wealth.
As we drove through the gates, I could see that the party was already under way. The guests seemed to be predominantly boys dressed in white shirts and blue trousers or shorts. I noted the white school buildings further up the drive. Maybe Crystal had got that detail right after all?
‘Let me guess: this is a private school for boys,’ I said, my unease growing. I had imagined that when Francie said ‘people my own age’ she had meant girls. I never did well with boys. Never. I had the social grace of a giraffe on an ice rink.
‘Yes, of course. They’re lovely boys. So mature for their age.’
And I was the kind of girl who made Martian antennae and had fuzzball hair. I should’ve taken my chance and gone home with Opal. Francie smiled at me in the driver’s mirror as if she heard my doubts.
‘Can you see her?’ Of course, Uriel’s thoughts were travelling a totally different path from mine.
I was here for him, I reminded myself. This wasn’t about me.
Francie parked in front of the bungalow, got out and waved at a woman hovering by the barbecue. An older man in a chef’s hat was wielding a pair of tongs as he turned the burgers.
‘Great, you made it!’ Francie’s sister left the grill to greet us properly.
‘Oh my God,’ said Uriel under his breath.
Tarryn certainly deserved such awe: she was so pretty. Long tanned legs well framed by her navy shorts, ballerina poise, swirls of brunette hair: I wondered how any boy in her class was ever able to concentrate. Perhaps her most striking feature, though, was her eyes: huge brown ones with long dark lashes. Something clicked inside me—and I guess Uriel was experiencing the same a hundredfold. I could tell she would be right with Uriel in a way that went beyond their surface good looks. For me, it was like the feeling I get when hearing someone speak the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Tarryn’s footsteps faltered. ‘Francie, what’s going on?’
Her sister looked wryly amused. ‘Why don’t you tell me?’ She folded her arms and stood back so the next move could be theirs.
‘Tarryn Coetzee, I’m Uriel Benedict, your soulfinder.’ He held out a hand but I could see the sheen of tears in his eyes.
‘Yes!’ I punched the air.
Tarryn reached out her hand letting him enfold her palm in his. The poor woman looked as though she’d been hit over the head by a blunt instrument, such was her shock. He pulled her closer so he could hold her, offering comfort until she had a chance to find her balance. Their conversation was now going on telepathically. They looked so perfect, arms looped round each other’s waists, bodies set slightly apart, heads together so their silhouette was naturally heart-shaped.
‘Come on, Misty. We’d better leave them alone. Let me introduce you to some of the other people here.’ Francie took my elbow.
‘You knew, didn’t you?’
‘Let’s just say I had a very good feeling about him as soon as I saw him. My twin and I aren’t identical but I can sense her emotions from time to time and he had something like that about him.’
I glanced back. Uriel was now leading Tarryn further down the garden to where the shrubbery would hide them from the other guests.
‘Fast worker,’ I murmured.
‘But you’re not really surprised.’ Francie must have picked that out of my thoughts.
‘You should see the rest of his brothers. Runs in the family.’ I just wished there would be someone like a Benedict for me when it came time to meet my soulfinder.
Leaving Uriel and Tarryn to get better acquainted, Francie introduced me to the man at the barbecue.
‘Jonas, this is Misty. She’s visiting from England.’
‘Pleased to meet you, Misty.’ Jonas placed a meat patty in a bun and passed it over. It was only a little bit singed and smelt wonderful.
‘Jonas teaches history with Tarryn up at the school.’
‘Thanks.’ I smiled and took the burger. That was so great: a history teacher matched with Uriel, who had a gift for seeing the past. Then I remembered Francie’s earlier comment about her sister not liking her power. I wondered what Tarryn’s ‘unpleasant’ gift could be; I could sympathize with someone who found her power more a jinx than a blessing.
‘Why don’t you go meet some of the pupils?’ Francie gestured to the crowd of complete strangers as if expecting me to dive in with no qualms that I was totally unknown to them all. Had she forgotten what it was like to be sixteen? ‘We’re celebrating the senior school team winning the South African schools’ debating competition.’
Oh crumbs. I could already tell her that this was not going to go well. I am the opposite of a good debater as I can’t defend a proposition in which I don’t believe. My philosophy and ethics teacher gave up on me long ago for class discussions. She always entrusted me with timekeeping as it was the only thing I didn’t mess up. The debate team and I were extremely unlikely to find any common ground for a conversation. ‘Oh, er, well done them for winning.’
Jonas clearly had more experience than the doctor dealing with teenagers in social situations. ‘Francie, if you take over here, I’ll introduce Misty to a few of them.’ Jonas put a warm hand between my shoulder blades, sensing my reluctance. ‘Don’t worry: they don’t bite. They’re nice lads.’
He steered me over to a group at the far end of the veranda. How picture-perfect they
were, as if some cinematographer had purposely framed them standing bathed in the late sunshine as Table Mountain flushed pink above them. In the very centre was the most amazing guy I’d ever seen: dark brown hair, short at the sides but with what I called a negligent ‘whoosh’ on top that begged for you to run your fingers through it. It got even better on the way down: black brows, piercing light blue eyes circled by a navy ring that gave them added power, little lines on his jaw to emphasize his smile, strong tanned neck above his open collar, the muscle-tone of an Olympic rower, and height that I would put just shy of six feet.
Stop ogling the boy, I warned myself. If you don’t want to embarrass yourself, act like an ordinary human, not a chocoholic on a visit to Cadbury World. And do not mention bums under any circumstances.
‘Boys, I’d like to introduce you to Misty.’ Jonas waved his hand to each of the debate team in turn, starting with ‘Mr I’m-too-sexy-for-my-shirt’. ‘Alex du Plessis, team captain.’
I nodded, not trusting what would pop out of my mouth if I attempted to speak. I nailed down my gift, stuck it in a lead-lined coffin and buried it six feet deep so nothing leaked.
‘Hello.’ Alex glanced over at me, eyes resting for a moment on my hair, then he looked away. Was that a smile he was hiding?
‘Michael Steyn, Hugo Smith, and Phil Cronje.’
I nodded again, tagging them the blond movie star, the African prince, and the ginger hunk, but the king of the jungle was undoubtedly Alex.
‘Hi, Misty. Cool name,’ said Michael, the blond one. He had kind, light blue eyes.
I could do this if I stuck to facts. ‘Thanks. My parents like unusual names.’
‘Bizarre,’ muttered Alex, then frowned. I recognized that look: it meant he hadn’t intended to say it. I checked my gift. Not my fault this time; I was in control.
‘Maybe it sounds a little odd to a stranger,’ I admitted, ‘but we go for ones like that in my family. We were named in twos. My younger sister is called Gale; then come the twins, Peace and Felicity; my little brothers are Sunny and Tempest—though I just call the smallest Pest as he’s three and always bugging me.’ I really should stop talking now.