“Hello!” the greeting was short and sharp, with her mind still focused on the half finished job strewn across her driveway and two dirty fingers gingerly holding the white receiver to her ear.
“Did I get you at a bad time, Mum?”
“Michelle! Of course not, honey. I’m always happy to hear from you at any time. Tell me all about what you have been doing and my wonderful grandchildren. When are they coming to see me?”
“Oh my goodness, Mum, where do I start?” Mishy sighed.
Madeline was suspicious immediately. “Is that man looking after you properly? He isn’t hurting you is he?” Madeline’s voice growled.
“No! Nothing like that, Mum; he’s wonderful!”
Madeline huffed and wondered why her daughter sounded distant and a bit vague, but settled back to listen, wiping her hands vigorously against her overalls before settling her wiry frame on the white tiled floor.
Mishy conversed with her mother for well over an hour, reciting the incredible events of the past week and barely able to believe her own story. With great interest, Madeline listened without interrupting her cherished daughter, and when she realised the station drought hadn’t improved and the property had fallen into catastrophic debt, she worried and verbalised her intention to pray for their needs.
Madeline’s ears then honed in like a tomahawk missile on a jet fighter when Mishy stumbled to ask her mother for her advice.
“M... mum, Danica’s friend in Switzerland has had an accident and to cut a long story short, someone over there has offered to pay for both me and Danica to fly over and see her, b... but I can’t abandon Butch to look after Jess and Molly while he takes the full load of station chores and I go gallivanting around the world. But Butch thinks I should go for Danica’s sake.”
“He’s right, Michelle, you need to do this for Danica and have a break from that hot hole.”
“I can’t leave Butch to manage on his own, Mum! That’s just plain selfish and you raised me to think of others.”
Madeline huffed again. “So I’ll move in while you’re away, honey, and take over your chores. That way I get to spend time with my beautiful granddaughters and see the drought firsthand.”
“Don’t get me wrong, Mum, but I don’t think Butch or Pearl Springs could cope with your way of doing things. Besides, I don’t know whether I would survive being half a world away from him and my family.”
“Now the truth comes out, Michelle, but you need to make the sacrifice for Danica.”
Mishy was silent for a long time, trying to form the words so that they made sense. “You can still speak French can’t you, Mum?”
“It’s been a long time, Michelle, but I should be able to string a sentence together.”
“Well, that’s just it. Danica’s friend lives in French Switzerland and I don’t speak any French at all and nor does Danica.”
“Well, my darling daughter, that’s exactly the catalyst to learn and that’s how your father and I had to do it in Guiana.”
“So you won’t consider taking my place and going with Danica?”
“If I don’t go then you won’t go either will you, Michelle?”
Mishy sighed heavily. “I know it’s a great opportunity for Danica and if the whole family was able to go then I would jump at the chance, but I don’t think abandoning Butch at such crucial time is wise, Mother!”
Madeline sighed. “Things are really that bad, honey?”
“Yes, Mum, things are really that bad.”
“How does Danica feel about an old woman accompanying her on a trip of a lifetime?”
“I think she’d be delighted to have her Nan holding her hand, Mum. So... you’ll go?!”
*~*~*~*
Chapter 73
Doctor John Watkins studied his unresponsive patient, listening to her semiconscious whimpering and murmurs as if the teenage girl was asleep and dreaming, wondering what damage her active brain had sustained. He wouldn’t know the extent of her trauma until she was completely conscious, however the scans seemed to indicate everything was normal: no bleeding, swelling or bruising, yet the instruments attached to her vital signs were buzzing with activity as if the pretty young woman was living a virtual nightmare. He’d seen this type of situation only a handful of times in his career as a respected neurologist and on all occasions the patients survived, but reported fantastic tales in their semiconscious states. In some circumstances, an induced coma brought the patient through their ordeal faster and he decided to approach the girl’s parents and pitch his intention and maybe gain some invaluable experience and a research opportunity.
Finding Anne-Claire’s parents seated in a hospital alcove and entangled in conversation with the strangely attired Robere Maccabaeus, Watkins approached tentatively and waited for an opportunity to interrupt.
“Ah, here’s the good doctor now, with good news I hope,” Robere bubbled expectantly, gazing up at Watkins.
“Well, yes and no, Robere. Anne-Claire is still semiconscious and murmuring, but to perceive the full extent of any injury she needs to be completely awake and for that to happen, we have to help her through this stage.”
Robere met the doctor’s eyes and bored directly into the guarded doorway to his soul, making Watkins turn away from his unnerving gaze.
“This is not just an attempt at playing with my girl’s psyche to see what will happen is it?” Robere’s words were backed up with a powerful and intense aura of authority, making Watkins feel uncomfortable.
“N... no, Robere. As I said, the girl has to pass through this stage and the faster she can do that, the faster we can heal her injury!”
Robere relaxed and smiled, winning his audience with intense warmth. “I’m glad I didn’t waste my money bringing you from London, Doctor. What are your intentions with Anne-Claire?”
Jeannine and Laurent stared nervously at Watkins, waiting to hear the specialist’s proposal for their daughter.
“It’s quite simple, Madame et Monsieur Couture; we put Anne-Claire into a coma and allow whatever her brain is doing to complete its unusual routine and then wake her up when all her vital signs settle down.”
Jeannine and Laurent studied the doctor in horrified shock and then turned their attention to Robere for reassurance and advice.
Robere was completely at ease with the doctor’s suggestion and just smiled and nodded to the anxious couple. “Doctor Watkins is right, dear ones. Anne-Claire will come to no harm.”
*~*~*~*
Confused, swirling mind fog confounded the semidarkness and twisted into a sea of blue, green and then dazzling red before the shadows contorted and pulled viciously into a streaking grey blur. Someone was screaming, the piercing wails echoing around inside her head and bouncing off the rocky cavern walls, making her hearing crackle and distort. All at once, freezing pain stabbed at her feet and knees before tiny glimpses of reality seared across her mind, leaving terrified trails of incomprehension. But then the tumbling scene slowed and stretched eerily into focus, guided by the glow of an insipid green light and punctuated by the urgent sounds of troubled gushing water.
Anne-Claire struggled against the mind-numbing cold testing her perceptions, and then gradually she came to understand the wails of a terrified young woman chained to the dungeon pillar and slowly succumbing to the chilling drowning torrent flooding the castle’s strongroom. Anne-Claire had finally fought off the spiralling nausea and confusing dreams to re-enter the castle dungeon where Dominique lay captive and was about to perish.
With her teeth chattering from the cold and managing to raise herself from her knees, Anne-Claire grabbed for the slippery iPod tucked loosely into her blouse pocket. With a tightly secure grip, she prevented her only light source from escaping her grasp and dropping helplessly into the deepening torrent, shorting out any chance of escape for either her or Dominique. Staggering to her feet, Anne-Claire stood knee deep in water, still wrapped in the caped avenger’s riding cloak. Dominique’s struggl
e and screaming had given way to acceptance, with shivering and whimpering taking its place instead, watching the water level steadily climbing and filling her prison with inescapable dread. Even the frantic jostling with the jangling chain had stopped in exhausted acknowledgment.
Anne-Claire suddenly remembered the two men searching the perimeter of the castle and decided to attract attention to Dominique’s plight from the outside, even if it meant an unpleasant encounter with a scoundrel as Dominique had warned. “Hang on, Dominique, I’m going for help!” Anne-Claire bellowed above the rushing torrent.
“Please hurry, Anne-Claire!” Dominique’s whimpering and defeated answer drifted just above the noise of the water.
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La Belle Suisse Page 40