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  Hazel continued, “Father, would you have Your Hand of protection on every part of Rebecca; her mind, her body, her soul and her spirit. Thank you that you hem her in, behind and before, underneath her are Your everlasting arms. You are faithful to complete the good work that You’ve started in her…”

  ***

  Huddled in black silence, the pieces of memory that had been so violently shaken loose began gently drifting into place. The jigsaw puzzle of her past slowly took form inside, as her mind arranged, re-arranged and shifted things back into order.

  Chapter 11 – On the Run

  Doreen turned the little porcelain dog over in her hands. “What do you think, Pete? Marie’tjie’s collection could do with this little fellow.” Getting no response, she turned to see what had caught her husband’s attention. “Pete?”

  Pete stood scanning the crowd, concern beginning to crease his forehead. “Can you see Rebecca anywhere, love?”

  Doreen put the little dog down and started looking across the mass of people. No sign of Rebecca. A sliver of disquiet shot through her insides. “We need to find her.”

  Together they walked the length of the street up towards the tent. With her blue-black hair, Rebecca stood out easily in a crowd. Now, they saw nothing. They turned around and headed back up the street.

  “Rebecca!!” Pete and Doreen were beginning to worry. Ten minutes into the search and still no sign of their charge. Their hearts turned heavenward, “Oh Lord help!”

  A pretty blonde girl stopped them. “I couldn’t help overhearing you call for Rebecca. Is she about my height with black hair and pale blue eyes?”

  Pete and Doreen nodded in unison. “Have you seen her?”

  “Yes, she was running away from a nasty piece of work.”

  Doreen’s forehead creased in puzzlement, “Pardon?”

  “Sorry—a man, a horrible man. He seemed to be following her, making a real pest of himself. She took off in that direction.” Graceful wave of the hand. “She was desperate for a place to hide. I don’t think it’s going to be easy to find her.”

  “You’re a real treasure. Thank you for your help.” Pete took Doreen’s hand and they headed towards the fairground.

  ***

  Rebecca swallowed hard as the caravan door creaked open. A tiny lady entered carrying some packets that she deposited on the floor before flicking the lights on. Spotting Rebecca in the corner, she said, “Oh! Hello. Didn’t you see my hours of operation on the door? You’re a little early. Never mind, give me a moment and I’ll be with you.”

  Not knowing what to say, Rebecca remained frozen in the corner, studying the healer. Wispy brown hair was drawn back into the nape of her neck, coiled into a neat bun. Her face was slim - fox-like - with her features drawn together culminating in a pert nose. She moved with a clipped efficiency, not wasting a scrap of energy.

  The Dr. proceeded to unpack a variety of organically grown food stuffs onto the counter, before swiftly packing them away. Everything in the tiny kitchenette was excruciatingly organized. Groceries were lined up with labels at the exact same angle, neat and tidy to the millimeter. Everything had its place. Rebecca watched mesmerized.

  Minutes later she settled herself opposite Rebecca, sinking to the floor without a second thought. “I am Doctor Summer. How can I help you?”

  Overwhelmed and speechless, Rebecca stared at the woman wide-eyed.

  “I see.” Dr Summer nodded encouragingly – she’d had reluctant patients before. “Don’t worry about a thing. I want you to relax. Let me have a look and I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Her voice was professional honey, carefully modulated to soothe skittish patients.

  On Rebecca, it had the opposite effect. Her insides writhed. She might as well have been sitting in a red ants nest. She started to speak, “Please don’t worry, I was jus—”

  A swift gesture of the woman’s hand cut her off. “Don’t interrupt. It’s easier if you remain silent.”

  Cool fingers attached to Rebecca’s temples. The woman closed her eyes and went deathly still. Rebecca squirmed. She wanted to run and never stop.

  Doctor Summer’s eyes flew open and she stared at Rebecca, barely concealed horror contorted her features. “There’s something about you—” She clung to professionalism by a thin thread. “There’s a power working in you that is beyond— what I’m willing to deal with.” Nostrils flared and her breathing quickened. “You need to leave,” Dr Summer stood up and pointed to the door, “now.”

  Relieved at being out of under the Dr’s close scrutiny, Rebecca willed herself to get up and do what the diminutive woman demanded. But fear of Claude pinned her to the floor. A shudder passed through her body, “There’s a man—outside, who’s looking for me.”

  Dr Summer’s professional veneer melted, leaving a small, fearful creature who screeched when provoked, “Don’t make your problems mine! Get ou—”

  A knock on the door nipped her tirade in the bud.

  The color drained from Rebecca’s face, “He’s found me. Please don’t open the door.”

  Staring down her short nose at her unwelcome guest, Dr Summer defiantly flung the door open and stepped back, waving her arm in an exaggerated ‘come on in’ gesture.

  A sob broke loose from Rebecca as Pete’s familiar head poked through the opening. “Sorry to bother you, I’m looking for a young lady—” Just then he saw Rebecca in the corner, tears welling in her eyes. “There she is! Rebecca, are you alright?” Rushing over, he tenderly cradled her, brushing the hair back from her face, rocking her gently. His honest concern for her well-being loosed a fresh spate of tears.

  Dr. Summer was not impressed. “This is all very touching, but it can be done outside. You’re taking up my valuable patient’s time. Out you go.” There was a distinct unspoken ‘shoo’ in her tone.

  Ignoring her, Pete spoke softly, “What happened?”

  “I was looking around, enjoying the atmosphere when I spotted a man who just didn’t fit in. There was something about him that was so familiar, I couldn’t stop staring. Then he saw me and started coming for me.” Her eyes widened at the memory. “Running from him jolted my memory loose.” Covering her face with trembling hands, “He’s after me. Oh Pete, if he finds me—”

  Warm hands enfolded her icy ones and he helped her up. “Let’s get you out of here. Doreen is just down the street.”

  By this time, Dr Summer had given up trying to dislodge them and was outside her caravan shouting for security, sputtering in indignant frustration.

  “Thank you for your kindness Dr. Summer, we’ll be going now.” Smiling broadly, Pete ignored her tantrum completely and led Rebecca away under the protection of his strong arm. Like a barking dog confronted by a mouse that won’t run, Dr. Summer’s mouth hung speechless. Flabbergasted.

  ***

  Somehow they managed to get themselves away from the fair and safely home without seeing any sign of Claude. Rebecca withdrew into herself, growing paler and more quiet by the minute. Wrapped in a blanket in the lounge, her eyes drifted in another time and her cup of tea went untouched.

  Doreen found Pete in the kitchen. “I’m so worried about her. Did she tell you what she remembered?”

  Pete shook his head. “All she said was that a man was chasing her and running from him jolted her memory loose. I’m guessing it could be the same man that she was running away from the night of the accident. He must have followed her here.”

  Doreen’s eyes snapped wide. “Rochester.”

  Pete looked puzzled, “That’s Gabby’s new tenant. What about him?”

  “It’s also the name of the man Rebecca worked for. Do you remember the dream that she had in hospital? She remembered her name, a housekeeper called Hazel and she remembered that she worked for someone called Rochester.”

  Her voice sunk to a whisper, “He’s found her. She’s not safe here.” For a moment they stared at each other in silence, the implications of what they’d figured out slowly sinking in
.

  The sharp ringing of the phone shattered the silence. “Can you get that honey? I want to check on Rebecca.”

  Pete nodded and lifted the handset as his wife left the room.

  Doreen had just settled next to Rebecca when Pete called from the next room, “Doreen, I need you in the kitchen.”

  Patting Rebecca’s hand, she rolled her eyes and sighed. “I don’t believe this. I’ll be back now dear.” Rebecca said nothing, but continued to stare into nothingness.

  Doreen was about to let Pete have a piece of her mind, but his grim expression stopped her. “Are you okay?”

  Pete held the phone to his chest. His knuckles were white. “Mrs Dersley has fallen again. It sounds serious. She might even have broken her hip. We have to go help her.”

  “But what about Rebecca?”

  “I know love, I know. If I could handle Mrs Dersley by myself I would, but I need you.”

  “Phone Elliot. He’s our Pastor. He should be the one to go running when things go wrong.”

  “I thought of that too. I already tried phoning him. He’s not home, I got his answering machine.”

  Sounding completely unconvinced, he added, “We shouldn’t be gone long.”

  “Can’t we take Rebecca with?”

  Pete shook his head. “If it’s as bad as it sounds, we’re going to have to lie her down on the back seat. We won’t all fit in.”

  “But is she going to be alright on her own?” Even though they were in the kitchen, Doreen whispered so as not to alarm Rebecca with her deep concern.

  “We don’t have a choice.” Pete looked dismal.

  Despite her misgivings, Doreen nodded, “Whatever you think is best love.” Doreen headed to the lounge with a heavy heart.

  Gently touching Rebecca’s arm, Doreen said, “We have to go out for about an hour. An old friend of ours has fallen and we think she’s broken her hip. We will be back as soon as we can. Will you be alright here? Should we get someone to come over?”

  Blinking slowly, Rebecca roused slightly and answered, “I’ll be okay. Don’t worry.” With that, she slipped back into a faraway place.

  ***

  Hazel’s hands were busy with dinner, but her insides were consumed with Rebecca. After they’d prayed outside by the washing line, a tangible peace had come over them that even Kenneth had commented on. Their prayers had been heard, and the requests had been granted. In some way, Hazel felt that a disaster had been averted.

  Only a short while later, the peace had lifted. Concern for Rebecca’s safety had once again started growing. Praying while she chopped carrots, Hazel felt for a direction from Heaven.

  Knife in hand, she dropped to her knees and prayed, “Father, would You be the lamp to Rebecca’s feet and the light to her path. Would You lay straight paths for her feet? Whatever she is doing, wherever she is, will You guide her into the very center of Your will for her life. Provide for her every need and protect her. Please Lord, keep her safe.”

  ***

  As the door clicked shut behind the Goodwood’s, Rebecca sprang into action. Her mind had been spinning frantically. How was she going to get away from Claude? In truth he’d never yet laid a finger on her, but he’d hinted at what he’d do once he got her alone. She’d seen how cruel he was to the horses on the farm, thinking of it made her blood run cold. He was angry and hurt - a dreadful combination. Who knew what such a twisted man was capable of?

  He’d tracked her down this far, there was nothing stopping him from coming to the farmhouse. If she stayed here, the Goodwood’s were also in danger.

  Her hours of silent staring had resulted in a plan. It was not perfect, but it was all she had. The Goodwood’s leaving her alone for a while, was just the opportunity she’d been waiting for.

  Paging through the telephone directory, she found the only taxi rank in Stutterheim, dialed and arranged to be collected in 30 minutes.

  Making her way upstairs, she found an old gym bag in the cupboard in her room. Sorting through Marie’tjie’s drawers, she picked out a small variety of items that would keep her in clean clothes for a few days. Trying to work too quickly made her fingers fumble and everything took twice as long as it should have. Basic toiletries also went into the bag – hairbrush, toothpaste & brush, soap and a toilet roll. Hurry up, Rebecca – once the Goodwood’s are back it’s too late. Picking up the Bible from where she’d been reading on the bed, she closed it and put it back on the bedside table. 20 minutes to go…

  As she turned to leave the room, she stopped and turned back. Impulsively, she picked up the Bible and slipped it into the bag, zipping it closed. Doreen had sort-of given it to her.

  Rebecca had grown up painfully honest, blatantly taking other people’s things made her feel sick to her stomach. Necessity overruling nicety, she made her way to the kitchen. Not knowing where her next meal was coming from, she tucked away enough to keep her going for a day or two. Nuts and raisins, some cheese, apples and a bottle of water. 10 minutes to go…

  Now for the worst part. Reaching into the bread-bin, she found Pete’s wallet. She counted three Hundred Rand notes. Taking two of them, she replaced the wallet and murmured, “I will repay everything I’ve taken, I swear.” Thinking of it as taking a loan rather than stealing made her feel a little better. Not much – but a little.

  6 minutes to go and she was all ready. Putting her borrowed bag in the hall, she sat down to wait for the taxi. Then it hit her, where was she going to go? The thought sank to the pit of her belly like a cold stone.

 

  Chapter 12 – Strange Allies

  They’d left at five in the afternoon. An hour into their journey the orangey-pink of dusk tinged the skyline, silhouetting all else in inky blackness. Jason nudged Tim’s snoring form. Tim had the amazing ability to sleep anywhere, anytime. He’d even fallen asleep leaning upright against the kitchen doorpost at their flat-warming bash. It would be many years before they stopped ragging him about that one.

  Another nudge, “Hey Tim! Make yourself useful. How about a cup of Java?”

  Tim woke up with a snort. “What? Hu— ” Suddenly recognizing his whereabouts, “What do you want?”

  “Coffee, Sleeping Beauty. You were snoring.”

  Tim yawned, “Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “Coming up.” He reached for the thermos & plastic mugs. “I still think this is a bit extreme, you know—this whole trip.”

  “Think of it as a paid holiday. We’re both on vac; Trent gave me more than enough to cover petrol & accommodation. Why not enjoy a couple of days in the big city at someone else’s expense?”

  “Sure. But who can guarantee that you’re going to get any more info out of the employment agency than you did over the phone? They wouldn’t even give you the time of day.”

  “Aah Tim… my naïve friend. You forget who you’re talking to!”

  Tim rolled his eyes heavenwards. “Don’t remind me, Mr. Testosterone himself. You’d better hope it’s not a crotchety old man behind the desk. Careful, this coffee is hot.”

  Jason took a lip-scalding sip. “Ouch. Thanks for the warning. I prefer to think of it as natural charm, not hormones. Anyway, we’ll cross the old man bridge when we get there.”

  “Whatever.” Tim was squirming to find a comfortable position to doze in.

  “Try not to snore please.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Another long yawn and Tim was dead to the world.

  Jason settled into the rhythm of the long haul. With another ten hours of driving ahead, his mind geared down from the break-neck pace he’d been operating at over the last few weeks. Mundane thoughts bounced between his ears, thoughts of no consequence that required little energy to think. Even in that state, a pair of piercing blue eyes floated through his consciousness with predictable regularity.

  There were very few cars on the road. Being a country-wide holiday season, Jason had expected to be travelling bumper to bumper for most of the journey. With Tim sleeping, Jason k
ept himself busy timing the sections between cars travelling in the other direction. The longest was a good twenty-minute stretch where the road was completely deserted.

  The lull was broken by the appearance of twin beams in the distance. As the car drew closer Jason squinted to see what vehicle it was. By the faint light of the newly risen moon, he made out the markings of a taxi company.

  Suddenly out of the blackness a herd of goats started crossing the road, forcing both cars to slow down drastically. Thankful for his quick reflexes, Jason slowed to a halt. Waiting for the goats to cross, Jason peered across and could just make out the passenger to be a black-haired woman. With a brief thought as to where she was headed, Jason manoeuvred behind the last goat and drove off. The black haired lady was soon forgotten as he began timing the next break in traffic.

  Halfway into the ten-hour journey, they stopped for a leg-stretch in Bloemfontein. They resumed the trip feeling refreshed and ready for the last leg. Three-and-a-half hours later the proverbial wheels came off.

  “Oh blast!”

  Rudely woken from his semi-comatose state, Tim sat up and asked, “What’s the problem?”

  They were still 200km’s outside Gauteng, tired and fed up with being in the car.

  “The @#%$ car is overheating.” The needle on the temperature gauge had swung firmly into the red. “Can’t you smell it?”

  Tim sniffed a blocked sniff and shrugged helplessly. “My ‘smeller’ is not working too well, sorry.”

  Jason pulled over, rattling off every foul word buried in his brain. He took out his cell phone to call for help. Staring at it briefly, he tossed it in the cubby. “Don’t have any Gauteng based numbers on that useless thing.” He let off another frustrated volley of curses.

  “Wait. Someone is stopping.” A metallic blue 4X4 pulled over in front of them. The vehicle rocked alarmingly as a hulking giant of a man got out. Jason and Tim shared a horrified look as the man ambled slowly toward them. Tattoo’s snaked the length of both arms, exposed in spite of the bitterly cold July air. Hair worn longer than most ladies, he towered over their vehicle in a terrifying fashion.

  “You realize that he could crush us both with one of those hands.” Tim’s whisper was awe-struck. “Lock the door and don’t open window. If he’s gonna do us in, we might as well make it as difficult as possible for him.”