Elly was just about to thank the nurse, when Callum arrived and stole the air from the room. Elly gave him a teasing smile and reached for him and then the electricity flew when their lips met.
The nurse waited for the passion to abate, but when it appeared to continue on, she interrupted with a discreet clearing of her throat.
Callum turned to the nurse and with a cheeky expression on his face informed her, “Did you know my pretty lady and I have a son and he looks exactly like me?”
Elly’s face turned crimson at the intimate disclosure and then knowing the nurse wouldn’t understand, she nodded. “It’s true, but at the moment, he is a little older than me.”
The nurse thought she was being played with, so she left the doctor and his patient be.
*~*~*~*
It had been nearly twelve months since Elly’s return home and her wedding day was fast approaching. Her parents had divorced but decided to stay friends, after Elly’s mother’s new lover left her for a younger woman.
Elly’s dad settled down after the turmoil and tried to rebuild the relationship with his daughter, but now Callum had stolen her heart and he would soon take her from the family home forever.
“Elly! Callum’s here!” her dad’s voice announced from two rooms away.
Elly’s heart jumped at the thought of her man; she scrambled from her bed and checked her appearance in the dresser mirror, then satisfied she was suitably impressive, she placed the diary on the bed so Callum would easily see it.
A knock came at her door. “Come in if you’re a green-eyed blonde hunk. Boy, am I waiting for you!”
The door flung open and Callum chased Elly around the bedroom in a mock attack; she screamed with delight at the chase, climbing over furniture in escape, but finally relented and succumbed to his arms and then the passion she had waited all day for.
As they parted from their play, Elly whispered, “I love you with all my heart, Mr Dream Man.”
“I love you too, pretty lady; I can’t think of anything but you, and can’t wait to be with you.”
Elly sat down on her bed and dragged Callum down with her, and then handed him her diary.
Callum stared into Elly’s piercing blue eyes. “What’s this?”
“It’s my diary. All my intimate thoughts and feelings are recorded in there, and also the story of Dramble and the other world. I would be honoured if you would read it.”
Callum stared into Elly’s vulnerable eyes. She was offering her man the keys to her inmost, secret heart and allowing him into a world no one else had ever been.
Elly curled up on her bed and laid her head across Callum’s lap and while he read, he played with Elly’s soft velvet, gently caressing her head with tender hands. Occasionally he would ask questions and Elly would fill in the detail, but generally he remained silent as he read.
As he turned the last page, his quiet whisper broke into the silence, “So we named our son Finn; he sounds like a man a father would be proud of.”
Elly’s tears flowed over as she peered into Callum’s eyes. “Yes, he has your integrity and sense.”
“So did you ever work out Dramble’s riddle?”
Elly shook her head. “No, even to this day it puzzles me!”
Callum turned to the back page and stared at the cover, then a thought crossed his mind. “How does it go again, Elly?”
“Out of your heart the tears I keep and when I am no longer, your knowledge is complete,” Elly recited verbatim.
“I think I just solved it.”
“Where?!” Elly jumped up, staring at her diary and then across to Callum.
“Out of your heart the tears I keep... your secret diary, Elly; everything you do and feel you write in your diary. Now look at the back page...”
Elly turned the diary over to the back page and there in tiny writing was written: Produced especially for you by the Dramble Company, your own private heart’s guardian angel.
Elly’s eyes filled with tears. ”And when I am no longer, your knowledge is complete.”
“He knew you would eventually fill the pages and discover who he is,” Callum offered.
“So… he was my diary?” Elly tried to come to terms with the impish boy.
“Apparently so, pretty lady.”
“No wonder he knew so much about me!”
*~*~*~*
A distant rumble echoed up and down the steep green valley walls. Then a gentle breeze rippled across the valley floor stirring a patchwork of yellow, pink and blue, making the colourful tall stems of happy flowers seem to giggle softly and sway gently in the giddying silence.
Patches of blue sky peered around the tall cliffs, partially obscured by lazy clouds hanging deftly and close to the rocky peaks. A monolithic giant, draped in the royal green velvet of deep rainforest, towered high above the trail and stood guard over the entrance to the enchanting scene, making sure only the invited found the secret, narrow breach.
Something was beckoning, tugging at her heart strings and drawing her onto the path, urging her to keep walking. Step by step the trail led her deeper into the valley, tantalising her senses with each guarded step and piquing her curiosity.
Where was she?
Suddenly, the valley erupted into whispered laughter, adorable impish laughter echoing across the valley floor and entangled among the swaying flowers. She searched around trying to identify the voices, but they remained shy and hidden from her view.
Then the sky opened and a warm, gentle shower drizzled over her, flooding her mind with childish delight as she tasted drops of water sweeter than honey.
The rain began to teem down on her and as it did, the impish laughter increased; she heard a giggle trickle over her tonsils and then an echoing laugh bubbled up from deep inside her and spilled out into the rain.
In a moment of ecstasy, she peered up at the sky and the mountains surrounding her and twirled on the spot, pirouetting like a ballet dancer, lost in excited elation and sending her long white gown whirling around her.
As suddenly as it came, the rain stopped and a gentle breeze caressed her face, dancing with her, calling to her in a loving whisper, “Elly... Elly... come to me, pretty lady,” enticing her down into the valley, while its call halted her ecstatic dance.
The voice made her heart burn within her and she searched among the flowers until she saw a beautiful young man standing on the path, beckoning to her with an outstretched arm.
She gazed at the gesture for a moment, hesitating and a little confused, but then his haunting green eyes peered into the depths of her heart and overpowered her emotions, gently pulling her towards him, desperate to experience the love he was offering.
Elly’s heart burst as she recognised the familiar scene, but this time it was real.
As a young boy, Callum had lived with his scientist parents on a tropical volcanic island out in the depths of the relentless South Pacific. The island was generally closed to the public and protected under a government study grant, but the adventurous boy knew the island well. The descriptions of his childhood home in Elly’s diary had stunned and astounded him, describing the enchanting Valley of Flowers to a tee. He had kept the secret from her until this day, when they journeyed to the island to be married.
The green-eyed man standing waiting for her, beckoning her across the Valley of Flowers and to his side, holding out the ring that would forever seal their love. In his other hand, a single red rose sang a haunting song from its perfect beauty; and when they were finally pronounced man and wife, a distant rumble echoed out across the scene.
Jehovah, consecrating and approving the love of soul mates.
*~*~*~*
THE END
###
*~*~*~*
Author's note
G'day,
Choose today to get onboard with Jesus Christ and escape the coming tribulation. He is the only way out and the only one who has your best interests at heart. But don’t take my word for it, pu
t Jesus Christ to the test and find out for yourself.
See, now I have told you, too!
There is no doubt the future is a scary place, and it is even more scary because the Bible predicts it and it is indelibly true. Papa God puts His word even above His name and everything in the Bible is there for our learning.
A simple faith in Jesus Christ is all it takes and if you follow me in the subsequent prayer, you will escape like Elly did. But if you put it off, that coming day will overtake you as a thief in the night and you will share in the sufferings and torture of the family and possibly without eternal security.
Jesus, I know I am a sinner and I have done wrong and I understand that my sin separates me from You forever. I want to be forgiven of my sin and live forever with You in a beautiful place free of pain, death and hopelessness. I understand that You are the Son of God whom He sent to Earth, to die on a cross and shed Your blood as a perfect sacrifice to cover my wrongdoing and allow me to be forgiven. I understand that Jesus absorbed my sin upon Himself and entered the grave and took it with Him and buried it forever; and when He was resurrected three days later back to life, I also was reborn, without the sin that separated me from Jehovah God .
I accept You, Jesus, as my Saviour and Lord.
Please understand, Jesus died for you and all you are required to do is accept His death and resurrection in this simple prayer and believe.
If you did pray this prayer and meant it, please find some Christian people who can help you to grow in your newfound faith, or contact me via my website.
If you enjoyed this book, then tell your family and friends; if you have a comment about The Valley of Flowers, I would love to hear from you. Your thoughts are important and if you take the time to leave me a comment, I will respond and your comment could be selected for my next book. Go on, put finger to keyboard... you can do it!
Jack
*~*~*~*
About the Author
Jack Dey, born to adventure, lives in the beautiful rainforest of tropical North Queensland, Australia. He has four loves in his life: Jesus; the Editor (his wife of 30 something years); writing adventure novels; and the Sand Flea. The Valley of Flowers is Jack's sixth novel. He is also the author of MAHiNA; Paradise Warrior; Aunt Tabbie's Wings; The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse and The Legend of Ataneq Nanuq. As this book goes to publishing his new novel, La Belle Suisse, is being co-written and is soon to be released. Jack writes only to please Papa God, but he won a prize for a writing contest at school once when he was six years old. The prize was five cents.
*~*~*~*
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Discover Other Titles by Jack Dey
MAHiNA
Paradise Warrior
Aunt Tabbie's Wings
The Secrets of Black Dean Lighthouse
The Legend of Ataneq Nanuq
La Belle Suisse
*~*~*~*
Exclusive Preview of Jack Dey's First Novel
MAHiNA
Things are not always what they seem. A compelling novel of mystery and exotic intrigue loosely based on historical fact.
The faded blue paintwork of the converted trawler Annemarie made him wince. He could not afford to paint her again. She was a sixty foot, forty year old fishing boat and in her heyday she was the fastest and tidiest vessel in the northern fleet.
Since the government had cracked down on the fishing industry and developed great allotments of marine park in the lucrative fishing grounds of the greater north eastern coast and Torres Strait, Damon and most of the other vessel owners had fallen on hard times. His misfortunes continued, until he had to sell his fishing licence, just to keep his beloved Annemarie.
He peppered his disdain for his demise, with large, toxic amounts of alcohol, that should have killed any other man. In the morning, he was clear headed again and at the helm.
Damon was known amongst his peers as a tough, no-nonsense skipper. He prided himself on his skill and ability to conquer and tame the sea, in any of her moods. His crew did what he said, without question, otherwise it was a long way to swim, as some of his past crew had found out. He was a tall, dark haired man, built on solid muscle, with a face worn hard by continuing battle with the sea. He looked a lot older than his thirty eight years. He had a knack for sniffing out trouble and on more than one occasion had to use his fists to clear his nostrils.
Below decks, Annemarie had a good sized galley; sizeable cabins along the port and starboard sides, fitted out with bunk beds; a common toilet and bathroom; and plenty of room undercover. All in all, she could comfortably accommodate ten people. Her hull was a deep vee, all steel. And she cut through the water like a well sharpened knife. Perfectly at home in the roughest of seas.
Damon was reduced to running Annemarie on joyrides into the Torres Strait for rich tourists. It pricked his pride and irked him to have rich boys climbing all over his boat. Still, it was money, even if he had to play along with these snot noses. They paid to keep his vessel in the water.
Today was a strange charter. A young woman had hired his boat and his crew to take her to Bathurst Bay, on some secret mission. She had paid cash up front.
There was a mythology amongst the fisherman of the Torres Strait. To anchor in Bathurst Bay, was considered bad luck. It all stemmed back to some cyclone that had snuck up on the pearling fleet in Bathurst Bay, a hundred and fifty years ago and wiped out the fleet anchored there. Legend has it, at night, when the south east gales come, you can hear the souls of the lost, crying out for help in the pitch darkness.
Damon shook the thought from his mind and wiped his mouth, immediately accepting the young woman’s cash. He had not seen so much money in cash for a long time. The destination would remain concealed from the crew, for the moment. He did not want them getting spooked and abandoning ship.
After all, if he didn’t take the charter, someone else would.
The woman was covered head to toe. Khaki, long-sleeved shirt, long pants, hat and sunglasses. He wasn’t any good at guessing women’s ages, but if he had to take a stab, he would say twenty five.
“Mister,” she said.
“Damon,” he replied.
“Damon, let me get something up front, straight away. I am chartering your boat for a specific purpose. I will not tolerate any interference in my business. I expect you to keep to your business. Are we agreed?”
Damon’s hackles went up, but he swallowed them back down. After all, she had paid good money for the charter. “Whatever you say, Miss...?”
“Elishia. Elishia will do fine.”
He helped her onboard, had one of the crew show her to her cabin, while the others stowed her gear.
It was nearing mid morning when Damon eased Annemarie from her berth on Thursday Island. It was close to high tide, so there was plenty of water in the south eastern channel. If he was delayed a couple of hours, the tide would be too low and he would have to take the western channel. That would add nearly a hundred nautical miles to his journey. He had taken on fuel, food and water the day before, in anticipation of the voyage.
The crystal clear, emerald green waters of the Torres Strait, still took his breath away, even after twenty years.
He was doing what he loved and that was all that mattered.
Horn Island was to starboard. He had been involved in a lot of fights there, usually at the local bar, sitting minding his own business. A drunk local would recognise him and want to settle a score. It was a rough place, where the dregs of the earth seemed to inevitably find a home. He did not care for the uncivilized rough-necks that
hung around, looking for trouble.
Thursday Island, however, just twenty minutes across the harbour by boat from Horn, was civilized and comfortable, with a family feel to it.
A contrast that he did not understand.
The other islands surrounding Thursday Island were primitive and sparsely inhabited. Usually by people looking to escape something, or someone.
The harbour at Thursday Island was a naturally occurring safe haven, protected by Hammond Island to the North; Palilug Island to the North-West; Gialug to the South-West; Muralug to the South; and Horn to the South-West. Several tidal channels allowed shipping to enter and leave the harbour safely at high water.
Annemarie's engine, just above idle, pushed the sixty foot vessel slowly through the calm waters of the harbour. Damon steered her into the South East channel and pushed her throttle forward to wide open. Annemarie dug her stern in and the bow lifted, like a racehorse given its head, unlocked from its stall.
Elishia was standing against the railing at the bow, just staring into the expanse of emerald water. Her long, auburn hair danced crazily behind her in the wind. She was directly in front of Damon’s view, as he skilfully orchestrated the vessel’s controls. He found himself staring at her form and there was no doubt, she was a stunner.
Annemarie burst out of the South East channel and was now in open water, the swell gently rocking the vessel, like a mother lulling a child to sleep.
Damon pushed the buttons on the chart plotter: 14 degrees 25 minutes South, 144 degrees 23 minutes East, set, enter. The apparatus beeped, as it accepted the instruction. Set auto pilot, enter. Another beep. Annemarie was acting on her own now, which left Damon to attend to other things.
The voyage would take 12 hours.
Damon opened the wheelhouse door that led to the forward deck, where Elishia was standing. He startled her when he spoke and brought her back to herself. She had been a long way away and judging by her facial reaction, he was intruding on some sacred moment.