A name popped up in a proud green box, causing Gerard to gasp, “Pete Goodwood. No 62, Forest Road, Stutterheim. I know this man.” In his amazement at recognizing a family friend, he’d blurted it out without thinking. In an instant he knew he shouldn’t have. “What do you want with these folk? They’re decent people, just leave them alone!”
“Unfortunately, I can’t do that. You see—they have something I want. And you have kindly told me what I needed to know. Your secret is safe with me. For now.”
He hung up leaving Gerard’s insides feeling ransacked.
***
The Goodwood's walked into the ward to find Rebecca sitting up in bed, face beaming. Her pale eyes sparkled with delight and she nearly clapped hands when she saw them. Pete and Doreen exchanged a puzzled glance, but couldn’t help smiling as they crossed to the bed.
“Rebecca!”
“Pardon, Dear?” Doreen asked hesitantly. “Is that your nurse? Would you like us to call her for you?” The stunning young woman laughed in delight, then winced slightly at the pain in her shoulder. “No, no! Rebecca. My name is Rebecca!”
Doreen threw a panicky glance to her husband at her slip-up.
Pete jumped in to help cover up, “That’s wonderful! What else do you remember?” Seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents, Rebecca’s brow furrowed in concentration, “A very kind black woman called Hazel. She must be our housekeeper or something. There was someone named ‘Rochester’, we called him ‘Baas’. Maybe that’s you?” She looked hopefully at Pete, one eyebrow lifted. Pete shook his head, “Not quite. Carry on.”
“Well, the only other thing I know is that I’m not very good at baking!” A triumphant smile lit her countenance.
Pete and Doreen breathed deep relief. They had prayed and spoken until late the night before and had come to a decision. Until they knew the truth of why she’d been out in the middle of a winter’s night with nothing but pajama’s, they would do everything in their power to keep her from going back. They both hated the deceit, but knew it was the only way to keep her safe until they knew the truth.
“How did you remember all this, Rebecca?” The name rolled off Doreen’s tongue for the first time and seemed to settle on the delightful young woman before her.
“I had a dream. I was kneading some dough, feeling very restless inside. There was a batch of scones baking that got horribly burnt, and kind Hazel rescued me by sorting out the “Baas’s” tea. I got the impression that whoever that is, he is quite a fussy person. That’s all I can remember.” Letting out a deep breath, she leaned back on her pillow looking fragile but satisfied.
“You are doing so well, don’t push yourself too hard.” Doreen patted her hand in motherly concern.
Pete caught her eye, and winked, “Rebecca love, we saw the Doctor outside and he said we can take you home. How about it?”
With a shy smile Rebecca replied, “I’m ready.”
They arranged to meet in the foyer, and sent Pete to settle the account. Rebecca’s grimy, torn pajamas had been discarded on arrival at the hospital, where she’d been issued with standard hospital garb. Doreen helped Rebecca into one of her tracksuits. They both laughed as they struggled to pull the drawstring tight enough to keep the pants up. The tracksuit was four sizes larger than what she’d normally wear. Without any belongings to pack, they soon joined Pete and made their way to the vehicle.
***
26 October, 1978
Precious Catherine,
I cannot describe how completely relieved and ecstatic I was to receive your letter. I thought my heart was going to leap out my chest! So they sent you to St Mary’s Convent, a boarding school for girls only? Well, at least I won’t have to worry about any rivalry from other young men. That’s a relief.
I also wish we could have had more time to talk things through. It was a big step that we took, but I know that we are meant to be together. Our love is stronger than anything that would try to keep us apart, and I feel as if what we shared has made the bond stronger.
You are Mine; I am Yours… completely and forever.
Stanton.
“Excuse me, it’s your turn.” An elbow-high boy in school uniform was poking at him gingerly, trying to get his attention. Jason looked up from the letter to see the queue in front of him had dissolved. He mumbled a quick apology to the school kid, tucked the letter into his shirt pocket and made his way forward.
The Post Mistress wallowed behind the counter, glaring at him over the bifocals perched precariously on the tip of her round nose. Obviously not impressed with the delay to her postal service, she lifted one eyebrow and asked, “Can I help you?” She didn’t sound very helpful at all.
Jason’s heart was thundering as he fumbled for the words he’d been rehearsing all morning. “Yes, I hope you can. I am trying to track down a long lost, umm, family member… All I have is this P.O. Box number. I just need to know who it’s rented to, and what their street address is.” Digging in his pocket, he found and produced a small slip of paper with the P.O. Box number hastily scrawled on it. He put on his most charming smile as he handed it over.
She was already shaking her head, making her jowls swing to and fro alarmingly. “Against the law, sorry. Besides, if that person was part of your family, surely you would know their name. You story doesn’t make sense, Sir.” The last was added in a tone that dripped contempt. She continued to glare at him over the rim of her specs. Like an exterminator deciding which method to use on an offending insect.
Deliberately looking through him, she yelled, “Next.” Meeting over.
Jason’s heart sank as he moved off to one side. What now? Leaving the building seemed like conceding defeat, so he hung around trying to figure out what to do next.
“Check counter number 8.”
The voice in his head brought a wry smile to his face. He was definitely losing his mind. “Aah. My mysterious benefactor has returned.” He spoke out loud without thinking. The queue was longer now, and all of them were staring at him. He simply had to stop talking to himself. Clearing his throat noisily, he headed off toward the other end of the service counter.
Peering around an elderly couple in the queue, he could see the back of a woman working behind counter 8. Auburn hair hung in thick tresses down her back. Then she turned and he recognized the dimples and the perfect lips. She spotted him, and her face lit up. Apologetically, he pushed his way through the queue and made his way to counter 8. It was Tina from Planet Dance.
“Are you feeling better than last night?” he asked with a grin.
“I can’t tell you how much better! I really owe you big time for being so kind.” Behind him, the people in the queue were muttering about how he’d pushed in. The angry mutters were getting louder, and they were starting to draw the attention of the other Post Office workers.
Tina looked to her right and swore softly, “Here comes Battle Axe.”
Jason looked over and saw the Post Mistress heading their way, jowls swinging. They didn’t have much time. “Tina, I need your help. What time is your lunch? Can you meet me across the road at Roxy’s at 1?” Time’s up – Battle Ax was upon them. Tina gave a slight nod and winked at him.
Jason smiled at the Post Mistress and held up both hands in surrender, “Don’t worry, I was just leaving.”
Arms crossed over her chest, the large woman scowled at him. “I think you should do that.”
Chapter 5 – Two Steps Forward
Moonlight danced across the tips of breaking waves. Lit with the sparkling green gleam of phosphorous, each wave seemed to hover weightless for a breathless second before crashing to the shore.
Jason took a swig of his beer and looked away from the waves to the restaurant’s entrance. No sign of Tina. Restlessly, he paced the balcony, pausing now and then to swig and look. Still no sign of Tina.
Oblivious to the chill in the air, Jason walked the length of the balcony. Back and forth. Outside of his restlessness, it was peace
ful place. He avoided looking at the other restaurant patrons at all costs, knowing that at least half of them would be wearing the imaginary cuffs from his dream.
The ceaseless turn of the waves had a soothing quality to it, which shifted his internal gears. Finding a quiet moment for the first time since his ship discovery, his mind began sorting through the events of the past couple of days. Male logic kicked in, trying to make sense of some seriously strange coincidences.
The discovery itself was amazing enough, add to it the coincidence of meeting and helping Tina and then needing her help to follow his first clue. It was his kindness toward her the night before which had made her so willing to go out on a limb for him, at the risk of losing her job. Besides the fact that if he hadn’t freaked out in the club, he would never have gone outside, and would never have met Tina. Add to that a dream that made no sense, and the awful shackles he’d been seeing on people. The mind boggled.
And then there was his mystery girl with her soul piercing eyes. Those eyes seem to have been permanently seared into his brain. He only had to shut his eyelids to see them before him, cool and serene—even in sleep there was no escape. His dreams hinged around this small creature, alternating between the scales and Miss blue-eyes. If she were still alive – if – she would be about 24 now. Three years younger than himself.
Lastly was the mysterious voice that seemed to boom at him in crucial moments. Mentally shying away from tackling that one, he nervously swallowed the last mouthful of beer, and cast a desperate glance toward the door. He was a walking, talking insanity soup. Whatever bit of madness was up for grabs; it seemed he’d been dealt with an extra helping of each.
Ah… at last. Tina had arrived. Saved from having to confront his growing insanity—a voice in his head, what else could it be?—he gratefully headed toward her, and together they found an open table.
***
Dinner had been a pleasant combination of good food, easy banter and a great bottle of wine. Tina proved to be a delightful young lady, with a vicious sense of humor that matched his in quick repartee. She was easy on the eyes too, all of which made the evening fly past.
Handing over her glass for a refill, Tina asked, “Can I ask you something Jason?” Jason poured half a glass of wine and handed it back. He couldn’t help noticing that the shackles were still missing from her arms. “It’s not a leap year, so you can’t ask me to marry you. I guess I’m safe – go ahead.”
Her laughter was a little forced. “Very funny, you’re such a wit.”
“And you’re so facetious.”
“What? Never mind, I’ll look it up at home. Do you remember last night you told me I should talk to my Mom… about everything?”
“Something like that. Did you do it? How did it go?” Jason kept his tone light.
“Why did you suggest that? How did you know?” Tina’s eyes burned with an intensity that belied the flippant tone of her voice.
“Why don’t you first tell me if it was good or bad? I feel like a drunkard in mine field right now.”
“Okay. Here’s the thing. I did talk to Mom. It was amazing. Turns out the same thing happened to her when she was about my age. She completely understood what I’m feeling. I thought she would string me up by my left earlobe, and she didn’t.” Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. “She just held me and loved me.” Silence for a moment, then “How did you know that I should speak to her?”
Jason was at a loss. “It just seemed like a good idea. I don’t know Tina.”
She did not look convinced, “There is something very different about you Jason. I can’t put my finger on it.”
Dessert arrived, and Jason changed the subject. “Did you manage to get the info?” Tina threw him a dimpled smile and started reaching into her bag. She hesitated, a frown creasing her forehead. Closing her bag, she chewed her bottom lip briefly and then looked at him. Really looked at him, studying his features as if searching for something.
“If I give you this, will I ever see you again?” Her voice was light, but her eyes dropped to bore holes in the tablecloth.
Jason started squirming in his seat. He’d been around females long enough to know the signs. Tina was hooked. A woman in this state was an easy picking, and yet his insides stonewalled him. He could just as soon take advantage of her, as saw off his left hand with a butter knife. Damn this newfound conscience. “Tina—”
She grabbed his hand to cut him off. “Jason wait. You are the kindest person I’ve ever met. We seem to have so much in common, and I—” she swallowed and looked away from him, “— I feel safe with you.” Her eyes swung back to his, silently daring him to nullify her claims.
“Oh Tina. If you really knew me, you’d never even give me the time of day. I have broken more hearts than I care to admit. Remember those young punks I warned you about?” Tina nodded glumly. “I’m one of them.” Jason took her hand off his and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go. “To be honest, I was completely shocked to hear myself telling you the things I did last night. Normally I would have been first in line to take advantage of a beautiful girl like you.”
Tina still did not look convinced, but being called ‘beautiful’ seemed to soften the blow.
“There are so many weird things happening in my life at the moment. I really need to figure out what’s going on. After that, who knows? I’m really grateful that we met.”
With a deep sigh, Tina fished around in her bag, handed over the info and proceeded to blow her nose rather noisily. “Okay, Jason. I’ll settle for the let’s be friends routine, for now. If I can help in any other way, give me a shout.” She waved her hand in the vague direction of the paper she’d just handed over. “What’s this all about anyway?”
Jason held the paper up with a triumphant grin, “Tina you’re an angel.” He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “When I know what this is all about, I will surely tell you. At the moment I have no idea!”
***
15 November, 1978
Precious Catherine,
I don’t know what to say. I wish so that I could hold you. You’re carrying my child! 3 Months along already…Have you told your parents yet? I’ve been working double shifts at the printers to make extra so that I can come and see you.
My boss has promised a promotion if I keep on working so diligently. You are the sole purpose of my existence. You are the reason I work hard, the reason I breathe. You, and now our baby… Our baby! I want to marry you, sweet Catherine, now more than ever.
Stay strong, my thoughts are with you,
Forever yours,
Stanton.
Jason tucked the letter in his pocket, and rang the doorbell. The doorbell was as meticulously clean as the swept path and perfect garden he’d crossed. Jason shook his head wryly, thinking that this was such a snooty part of town that even the maids probably had their own maids. What a life.
“Hello, how can I help you?” A thirty-something career woman in a power suit stood looking at him, one eyebrow raised. Jason put on his most charming smile.
“Hi. Yes I hope you can. I’m looking for Miss Penny Lakefield.”
“You’ve found her. What are you needing?” Miss Lakefield was obviously a busy person.
“About your Post Office Box. Do you perhaps know anyone by the name of Stanton or Catherine who would have used this box in the early seventies?”
Power-plucked brows met in the middle of a puzzled forehead. “Good heavens no. I’ve only been using this box for the last six years or so. Why do you want to know?” Suspicion lent a sharp edge to the question.
Feeling queasy, Jason took a deep breath and was about to launch into his carefully prepared story involving missing family members and an imaginary tragedy, when it happened again.
“Jason, tell the truth.”
“Okay, Okay!” Jason snapped to no-one, then resignedly to the woman, “Miss Lakefield, I was diving, exploring a wreck and I came across some very carefully preserved le
tters and a portrait. The whole story has got me intrigued. The only clue I have is this P.O. Box number that Stanton used to get his letters to Catherine, whoever they are.” He ended with a shrug, and a good, warm feeling inside.
Miss Lakefield’s face softened, “Very interesting. I’m afraid I am a dead-end for you though. You might want to talk to my Gran. I took over the Box from her. 23 Sweet Haven Retirement Village. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”
***
“Rebecca dear, have you had enough to eat?” Doreen asked with a gentle pat on her hand. Rebecca nodded, and impulsively half-stood to give the kind old lady a hug.
“I feel very well cared for, thank you.”
“And those clothes seem to fit you perfectly.” She studied Rebecca for a moment. “Isn’t it just a blessing that you and Marietjie are about the same size? She always leaves her holiday clothes here because she wouldn’t be caught dead in them back home. Isn’t she too funny?”
Rebecca smiled and nodded. She still couldn’t bring herself to call these people Mom and Dad.
Doreen began clearing the table, while Pete got the tea-makings ready. Banned from the kitchen for the first night at least, Rebecca sat folding and unfolding her hands, feeling rather lost. None of this remotely jogged any memories, and she was beginning to worry that her memory had been permanently erased. Surely home would ring a few bells?
With nothing else to do, she studied her surroundings, all the while hoping for the spark that would unlock her mind. The couple’s home was a charming mixture of old-world style, peppered with stylish modern bits and pieces. It was a rambling house, crammed full of beautiful, expensive things rubbing shoulders with homemade kid’s art. Everything about the place exuded a welcome that warmed the soul.
The face-brick building itself was nestled in the outskirts of a forest at the foot of the Amatola mountain range in Stutterheim. The garden seemed to blend seamlessly with the outskirts of the forest at the far end, and was bordered on the left by a swift mountain stream. The slightest breath of wind set the pine needles to whispering, and the brook had a life and song of its own. Everything about the place had a surreal dreamlike quality.