Londuo was unsure where to start. She mixed a blue with white and apprehensively started to paint the sky. Violet continued with hers. Londuo stopped and watched her for a while before saying,
‘I want to paint that building, but how do I know what colours to put where? Your painting seems to come to life; how do you do it?’
‘Look at just one part of the building. For example, take the door, Londuo. What do you see?’
Londuo studied the building in front of her.
‘I see an open wooden door which is old and rotten. About half of it’s in sunlight.’
‘What colours do you see?’
‘Mainly shades of browns, with some black and a bit of grey.’
‘Try to see past the basic colours. Look, there’s blues from the sky, greens from the grass. I can see some purple; not just the dull colours. Look at the yellows where the light hits it.’
Londuo could now see other colours, but was finding it hard to visualise how she could paint it.
‘Also how do you feel about the door? Is it happy, sad or full of energy? Think what would bring it to life.’
‘I believe I can see what you mean. It looks happy, even if the rest of the building is falling apart around it. It wants to be opened and closed.’
‘Good. Don’t be afraid to paint what you see and feel Londuo. Remember you’re not trying to create a photograph.’ Violet placed her hand over her own heart. ‘It’s what’s inside you that will bring it to life.’
*****
Londuo looked around. Everyone had now left the churchyard. Paint from the heart, that’s what Violet meant, but my heart is still with James. She thought of James. I wonder if he tried to paint when he was on Earth. As she walked slowly back to Walter’s Mustang, she thought back to the Aurora and James. I miss him. He told me he lived in England before we met. Now where was that place? Brampton. Yes, it was Brampton, in an area called Cumbria, I think. I’m sure that’s what he told me. Deep inside, she felt a need to be closer to him, even if it was just a passing reference to his life. There’s nothing to keep me here now except my job. I could go to England to see where he lived. Londuo pondered and then with great determination said,
‘I’m going to go to England!’
Londuo sold the house, but kept all of Violet’s paintings and her artist equipment. A year later, in 1985, she moved to England and bought a cottage in the small village of Brampton, in Cumbria, where James had lived before they met. The following year she imported Walter’s Ford Mustang.
Inspired by Violet’s paintings, which she had now hung around the cottage, Londuo used the surrounding landscape as subjects for her paintings and created many works, some of which she started to sell. Then, one day while painting, she wondered what they might have created back on Qintaino had they used similar methods and techniques. And so she started to experiment by mixing her technical know-how with paints and other materials.
*****
A few years later, the art world was suddenly amazed by a new artist, Jane Packard, an American who had created a new type of painting called a magnogenic canvas. Londuo had managed to charge particles of paint with a magnetic field. This allowed the paint to literally rise from the surface of the canvas to predetermined heights proportional to the charge held within them. This meant the flat canvas, once powered, was transformed into a three-dimensional painting. Suddenly, everyone wanted this new expressionist work. Her paintings were based upon her memories of pictures she’d seen of Qintaino, using very vivid colours; reds, oranges and yellows. Some depicted huge brightly coloured buildings, others strange looking animals and flowers. Londuo tried to avoid too much attention; the technology was very simple to her, but seemed to cause a lot of press releases.
Londuo felt great satisfaction; she had created works that would last many years or even centuries. She felt very proud of herself.
Chapter Four
The year 2005 arrived. Londuo knew this was the year Lex, Carol and James arrived on Earth and eventually settled in a remote cottage in Brampton, near to where she now lived. Being there made her feel still very much in love with him and she often thought of him while wandering around the countryside of Brampton, trying to imagine what sort of life he had there.
One day, whilst driving home, she thought of James and distracted, missed her turning and ended up driving down a narrow lane. Then, suddenly her attention was drawn to a ‘for sale’ sign pointing to a cottage. James had told her all about the house where he had lived, and from a distance that cottage looked like the one he had described to her. She slowed the car.
It couldn’t be, could it? She looked at a large oak tree in front of the house. This has to be it. She felt excited. It’s fate I came this way. I could buy it. Maybe rebuild it and live there.
The day after, she went straight to the estate agent where the cottage was for sale, but to her disappointment the advertisement about the cottage in the window had a ‘sold’ notice on it. Someone’s already bought it, she thought. So much for fate; it looks like I’m too late. She felt deflated and started to walk down the road, but then a terrible thought crossed her mind. This was about the same time that Lex bought the cottage. I’m back in 2005 and everything should be different now if we changed the timeline. What is the chance that in two different timelines, this run-down cottage is sold in the same year? What a coincidence! Londuo suddenly stopped and looked back towards the estate agent. Coincidence! No, it can’t be a coincidence. She turned back. I have to know who bought it. What if it was Lex?
With much anxiety she entered the estate agent.
‘Can I help you?’ a young man asked, noticing Londuo looking at the adverts of cottages.
‘Yes; has the run-down cottage up on the hill been sold?’ she replied.
Her voice, now with an American accent, was muffled by the mask over her nose and mouth. She pointed to the brochure.
‘Yes, amazingly it has,’ he said. ‘I have to say it has been for sale many years now and needs a lot of work, but someone likes it. Strange you should be interested in it now; I only sold it yesterday! We have another one coming on to the market next week. I can show you that if you want.’
Londuo could see he was slightly uneasy, often looking at her face mask. By now she was used to this reaction, even off-hand comments about it. She no longer gave excuses for her appearance; people could decide the reason for themselves.
‘Can you tell me who bought it?’ she asked him.
‘I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to say,’ he replied. ‘You could go up there and meet the new owners.’
‘No, I can’t. Please, I need to know who bought it,’ Londuo said, pleading with him.
‘Why would you want to know that?’
‘Because the future depends on it... Look, if I give you a name, could you answer me with a yes or no?’
‘Okay,’ he replied. ‘No harm in that. What’s the name?’
Londuo composed herself.
‘Was it bought by Lex Brasdoi?’
‘No, it wasn’t. Sorry.’
Londuo felt relieved. Thank goodness. No, but that’s his Qinant surname. Here on Earth they used an English sounding surname.
‘Wait! What about Lex Brandon?’ Londuo added quickly.
The young man smiled.
‘To that name, the answer is, yes.’
Londuo felt light-headed and her heart quickened. No, he can’t be here. There’s no way he can be here.
‘Are you all right?’ the young man asked.
‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine.’ Londuo nodded. ‘Are you sure it was bought by Lex Brandon?’
‘Yes. What’s strange is that he wore a mask too.’
It is definitely him then and James must be here also. That means we’re at war again and nothing has changed.
‘By the way, interesting tattoo you have there,’ the young man said, pointing to her face. ‘I was thinking of having one on my arm. Did you have it done in America?’
‘Sorr
y, I need to go. Thank you for your time.’
‘My pleasure.’
Londuo was feeling very emotional.
‘I don’t believe it. It’s all happening again.’ she said quietly. ‘He’s here on Earth! Why is it happening again?’
I saw the Treitans’ world destroyed. Yet, we’re at war with them again. They must have survived. We failed to affect the chain of events. I have to work out what went wrong.
*****
From that moment on, Londuo took a particular interest in the lives of the Brandon family, watching them rebuild the cottage and bring up their son James. She knew already James’ future and the great danger which laid ahead for them. She had to tell him somehow.
Londuo sat in her workshop, painting a new magnogenic picture. I know the future. I have to tell them the dangers that lie ahead. I can stop everyone being killed.
I’ll go to the cottage to talk to Lex and Carol. I’ll tell them the future. Londuo pondered. But the Aurora’s not finished; it’s going to be another ten years before Kalrea finishes the ship. I know Lex will die in two years’ time. I could warn him; tell him he’s going to die from a cold, but this wouldn’t help. It looks like he’s already taken precautions with the face mask, and he can’t lock himself away for the next ten years just so he can survive. Londuo shock her head. By the time the ship’s completed, Lex will be dead and both Carol and I will be too old to pilot the ship; our minds will be too old. That means only James can. His mind will still be very young, but I know he’ll be able to control the ship.
Then I have no choice, I’ll have to inform James of the future. There must be a way! He’s three now, so I could wait until he’s old enough; tell him then. But that means I’ve got to meet him. Londuo’s feelings towards James were playing on her mind. I can’t meet him. He’d be so young; I’m old. It would tear me apart and he wouldn’t know why I love him. No, I couldn’t bear that. He doesn’t know me yet. Maybe I can write a letter to explain him what will happen so that he can change the future. But what if he doesn’t believe it? I have to somehow prove I know the future; but how?
Londuo played through many scenarios in her mind.
‘My diary!’ she said out loud. ‘My diary has the future in it.’
That’s it. I’ll give him my diary. It’s from the future; that’s proof in itself. She suddenly felt worried. But it’s too personal. He cannot read my diary; he’ll find out that I love him before we’ve even met. Wait, he doesn’t need to.
‘Kalrea! Kalrea is the answer.’
I need to get the diary to Kalrea. She will read it, get to know the future and advise James on what to do. I’ll instruct Kalrea not to tell James about our love.
Londuo felt very pleased with herself. All I’ve got to do is get the diary to him at the right moment. He will have to ask Kalrea to help him to read it. But I still need to work out why the timeline wasn’t changed, what went wrong and why we didn’t wipe out the Treitans. Maybe if I give all the details I can remember to Kalrea, she’ll be able to fill in the missing pieces.
*****
Londuo never got too close to James’ family, but there was one day where, against her better judgement, she ventured to the back of their property. She noticed a scarlet aeroplane lying on the ground and picked it up. She smiled to herself and could not resist throwing it down the hillside. However, she gasped when she saw a five-year-old boy exiting the house. The aeroplane landed, just missing him. She quickly hid behind a large bush. Her heart started to race when she noticed him approaching. That boy was James, her lover, and she knew he had just lost his father the previous day.
James, don’t come up here, please, she thought, looking for a way to escape; but it was too late. She had no choice but to talk with him for a few moments until he was distracted by his mother calling him. She quickly moved behind some trees before heading back to her car where she sat staring out of the windscreen. He’s so young and now his father has died. I know how he’ll feel. Londuo broke down and started to cry. I love you, James. I’ve always loved you.
*****
Londuo now had to wait patiently for 2019 to arrive, the year she knew that James would lose his mother and the year when his life would take a new direction. This was the right moment for her to give him the information he needed. By then he would be a young man, and she would be seventy-three years old, which is still quite young for Qinants, considering that their average life expectancy is equivalent to one hundred and two Earth years. So all she needed to do was to protect herself from any colds, which indeed she did. On 10th October 2019, the day Carol was supposed to die, Londuo was getting ready to go and visit her.
Her plan was to speak with Carol to ensure that the diary, with the information about the future, was given to James.
Londuo looked at the red data cartridge that contained her diary lying on the kitchen table. I’ve removed my name so he won’t know whose it is. She picked it up and held it in her hand, but began to have mixed feelings. A part of her was happy that the information in her diary would probably change the future and save millions of lives, but another part of her was beginning to feel uncomfortable about the fact that this information would change the timeline and possibly also James’ and her future together. She glanced at the kitchen clock. It’s now or never. Ten minutes; James always leaves the cottage at eleven to go into the village.
Londuo took a deep breath before apprehensively walking out to her black Ford Mustang.
Chapter Five
James hurriedly drove his Land Rover back home to his family’s small remote cottage near Brampton, where his mother lay sick. He had been in the local village for provisions, but his thoughts were never far away from her.
Carol Brandon was only sixty-two and had recently become overwhelmed by a serious illness that the doctors and specialists could not comprehend. Carol was a stubborn and reclusive person. She had ignored the medical advice to stay in hospital and even James’ protests could not stop her from discharging herself to return home. For days James tried desperately to get her to seek medical help, but to no avail. She told James that one day he would understand why.
His mother’s illness reminded James of the sad moment when he lost his father twelve years earlier, when he was only a child. Carol had told him that Lex had died of an incurable illness, and now James’ worst fear was that she was going to die too.
James turned off the narrow country lane, between the two tall stone columns capped with carved pyramids, which marked the entrance to his home. Everything seemed tranquil as he drove steadily up the long gravel driveway. The wind was calm and he could hear the water gushing in the nearby stream. The small cream cottage set between two smaller outbuildings looked softly bathed by the last rays of light of the sun setting over the Cumbrian Mountains. The bare oak tree in the centre of the courtyard ringed by fallen leaves, casted a shadow across the roof of the cottage and the hillside beyond. There was a solitary dim light shining from an upstairs window of the cottage.
As James pulled up just in front of the cottage, his attention was drawn to the far corner of one of the courtyard buildings. There, in the shade, the front of another car was just visible. He got out of the Land Rover and walked closer. It was a black convertible Ford Mustang.
James’ heart missed a beat at the thought of his mother possibly being alone with a stranger. He was now anxious and feeling guilty to have been away, even if for only thirty minutes. He wasted no more time and rushed into the cottage.
He could hear the voice of an old woman talking to his mother in her bedroom upstairs. His mother’s voice was very faint. After a few steps up the steep narrow wooden staircase to her room, the voices stopped abruptly. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and a tall figure appeared at the top of the stairs.
The woman had her back to him. All James could make out was her long silver hair, which moved gently in the draught from the door when she closed it.
‘Who are you?’ James asked, standing on
the staircase.
The woman froze for a second, and then quickly covered the left-hand side of her face with a handkerchief to hide a tattoo, before turning towards him.
‘I said, who are you?’ His voice was raised.
‘James,’ she said in a concerned voice.
She stared at him, her eyes fixed on his.
James could now see her wrinkled face and light-green eyes. She looked old and appeared anxious. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
‘What are you doing here?’ he questioned.
‘I had to come.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m Lon… No, I can’t. Your mother needs you, James. I have to go… You should not have seen me,’ the old woman said in an American accent.
She quickly moved down the stairs and pushed by him; her right hand brushed his. James unexpectedly felt cold. He lifted his hand and looked at it, clenching it slowly. It was an eerie feeling, like someone had just walked over his grave.
By the time he looked back to her the door of the cottage had clicked shut. The old woman had gone. James was surprised how agile she was for her age.
Who was that? James thought to himself and hurried up the rest of the stairs. If she’s a friend of my mother’s, how come I’ve never seen her before? His heart quickened when he opened the bedroom door.
Carol was in bed, propped upright by a number of pillows, exactly as he had left her. A table lamp was the only source of light on a chest of drawers next to the bed.
James moved over to the bed where he noticed a framed picture of Lex on the carpet just below his mother’s open hand. He picked it up and put it back gently on the bedside cabinet beside a face mask.
Carol’s eyes half opened. Her head turned towards him.
‘Sit—’
‘Are you all right? I was worried. I saw that woman. I was—’
The Aurora (Aurora Saga, Book 1) Page 3