Seren goggled at him, her jaw dropping open. She laughed out loud. “DAFFYD! Oh my god! That's hysterical!”
He maintained his superior mien, but his eyes twinkled.
“I can't believe you said that! Oh! Oh!” and she laughed until tears ran down her face. “Oh, Daffyd. You are so funny!” She subsided into intermittent giggles interspersed with snorts of laughter.
His snobbish façade never wavered and his manner was utterly dignified as he went on toward the door. But his heart hammered in his chest and he wondered what had possessed him to say such a thing to her. He was relieved at her response and he enjoyed her laughter. It touched his soul in a manner he couldn't begin to articulate, even to himself. It also meant that she had not taken offense at his comment, which was a blessing. He took a deep, slow, quiet breath to calm his nerves, and he opened the door.
As the door swung open, the lights came on inside the room. He stepped in and stared. It was a wine cellar, possibly one of the nicest ones he had ever seen. The walls were lined with polished wooden racks that gleamed softly in the subdued light. The temperature was markedly lower than in the outer room. This strongly reminded him of one of his own wine cellars. It was very like the one in his home in Italy.
He strolled the length of the room, touching the bottles, looking at labels in a language he couldn't understand. He marveled at the technological differences between this room and the root cellar at the other end. His mind fought to make sense of it all.
Seren came through the door, the worst of her giggles under control at last. Her eyes widened in amazement. She turned and looked out across the basement to the other door, then back at the wine racks and the recessed lighting.
“What the...?” she exclaimed. She wandered down the room, looking at the racks of red wine and white. There was even something that appeared to be like Champagne. She and Daffyd came together in the middle of the room and looked at each other.
“Daffyd,” she said quietly. “What is going on?”
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* * *
CHAPTER 22
Karina sat at the kitchen table, dismayed at the pile of bills in front of her. She had put off paying them until she could put if off no longer. She knew the theory—you wrote the check and sent it out. But there were so many! She wished her mother would turn up. All this stuff had just been done. No, Mum did it all, all by herself, an unwelcome inner voice pointed out. Fine then, Mum did it all, the point is I didn't have to worry about it. Now she did, and she didn't like it. Not at all.
She started by counting out a stack of file folders. Then she opened the bills and sorted them. She wanted to put as many as possible on the computer so she could pay them online at her convenience. She knew the password to access Seren's chequing account, so she wouldn't have to use the overdraft protection on her own account. That certainly made life a little easier.
Then she divided the other bills into the folders, and noted whether each was a monthly, bimonthly, or quarterly payment. She wrote out checks for the most urgent and put them in the envelopes, checking and rechecking to make sure she had the right check with its proper invoice, and that the correct address was showing in the little window. She had visions of having her own address showing and the money coming back to her, and some vital service being cut off.
Tomorrow, she was supposed to meet with someone from Children's Aid. A well-meaning neighbor—nosy old biddy, she thought privately—had reported that the Baker children had been left all on their own for over a week. Karina had been trying to contact her aunts and uncles to enlist their aid, but so far had been mostly unsuccessful. Renée lived in Europe, in any case, and wouldn't be likely to be of any practical help. Sally was on holidays somewhere in the Caribbean. Claude lived out in Vancouver, also kind of far, but he might be able to give her some advice, if she could just get hold of him. She had been unable to reach any of them, and it was making her crazy.
That left Roy, in Toronto. She laughed to herself when she remembered her conversation with his spouse, Larry. She had waited for two whole days after Seren's disappearance before calling anyone, hoping that Seren would just turn up. When forty-eight hours had passed with no word, she started working her way through her mother's phone book. She was becoming increasingly frustrated and upset by the time she called Toronto.
“Hi! This is Larry, who's this?” The man she and her siblings referred to as ‘Aunt Larry’ answered the phone.
“Larry, it's Karina,” she said, a quaver in her voice. “Is Roy there, please?”
“Oh, hell no, Hon. He's gone on a buying trip for a couple of weeks. Is there something I can do ya for?” Despite her anxiety, Larry's perpetually light and carefree tone made her smile.
“Mum's missing,” she blurted. “She disappeared a couple of days ago, and I need help.”
“Ohmigod, Kari! What happened? Was anyone hurt? Was there an accident? How can I help?” His words tumbled out in a rush. She told him all she knew. “Oh, Babygirl,” he said when she was done. “I'll try to get hold of Roy as soon as I can. Do you want me to come down? I can always close the shop for a few days. Roy will understand.”
“No, that's okay. I can keep it together for a while. I just need to know there's someone out there behind me. It's scary,” she snuffled in his ear.
“I know, Hon. But you're your mother's daughter, Kari. If anyone can hold on and tough this through, it's you. How are the other kids? Are they all right? Do you want to send them here?” He was a wealth of suggestions. Karina suppressed a grin through her pending tears. Larry was wonderful.
“I don't know, Larry. We'll just hang on, I guess. If you hear from her, you call me, okay?”
“Absolutely! And I'll give her a piece of my mind, unless she was abducted. You don't think aliens took her? Were there any UFO reports that day? I mean, people don't just vanish, Kari. Maybe someone beamed her up, or something.” Karina had no better explanation, but she thought Larry might have been reading papers like The Star just a bit too often.
“Who knows? I just want her home,” she said.
“Of course you do, Kari,” he said. “Well, I'll see if I can track Roy down. He left me his itinerary, but he doesn't always follow it, you know? I might have to wait for him to call me. But I'll tell him to get in touch with you right away. You're sure you're okay? If you need anything, you just call me, all right?”
“I will, Lar,” she said. “Thanks, Auntie. I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he told her, and they hung up their phones. Karina sat smiling for a few minutes. Knowing Larry and Roy would be behind her helped tremendously.
But now, this whole thing had ceased being an adventure and was rapidly becoming a nightmare. She had always expected to be able to sidle into adulthood and serious responsibilities with Seren in the background as a safety net. But, no; she had been thrust, kicking and screaming, into role of a single mother of three, in a manner of speaking, and was terrified that she wasn't up to the challenge.
For the first time in her life, she wondered how often Seren had felt this way. She was usually so calm outwardly, but so was Karina these days. Well, mostly. She had gotten a grip on her temper, realizing her outbursts were only making things worse. She thought of how hard it must have been right after Dad died, when Seren had suddenly had to take over everything, including becoming the breadwinner. She must have been so stressed, thought Karina, but we never knew. I'm your daughter, Mum. If you could do this for us, I can try to hold it together for you, till you get home. Her chin quivered. Just come home soon, ok?
* * * *
Reznik and Rapsim stood at a T intersection, where the road they had been following dead-ended. She armed sweat off her forehead. Even with her uniform shirt open, she was uncomfortably warm.
“Well, Rap,” she said. “Which way now?”
Rapsim studied the information on the multi's screen and shook his head. Occasional knots of people drifted past the pair, heading a
long the road to their right. The few who had been behind Rapsim and Reznik mostly turned right at the corner, following the flow of the sparse traffic. An occasional independent soul turned left. “There seems to be some kind of a power source up that way,” he said, pointing in the direction the groups were traveling. “But I seem to be having one of those ‘feelings’ that I thought only you got, and it's saying we should go that way instead.” He gestured to the left and looked up at her. “You're the Proto-Leader. You decide.”
She smiled at him. “I never did like to follow the crowd, Rap. You know that. Besides, I'm getting that same feeling.” She pointed to the left. “Go south, young man; to paraphrase what's-his-name, some American, never mind. Let's just go.”
She hated having to explain Earth references to Rapsim. Of course, she also hated when he had to explain Kerialdan expressions to her. They stepped out onto the cross bar of the T, and turned left.
* * * *
Mykal watched their progress with a smile. His little nudge had done the job just right. Soon, they should connect with the other three who were the main focus of his work. Once the male of the pair, the one he had originally intended to use, had done his part, Mykal could return them both to their own space-time co-ordinates, within a few minutes of their departure. This was progressing well, so far. He might be able to move up a level after this.
* * * *
The basement had not yet revealed all its secrets. Seren and Daffyd left the wine cellar, musing over their discovery. Daffyd closed the door behind them, making sure it had latched securely.
“I wonder what else we'll find,” said Seren. She looked around. In the corner to her right stood a tall freezer. She went over to investigate. Daffyd stayed where he was, lost in thought.
Seren ran her fingertips over the cool enameled surface of the freezer. It was an upright unit with double doors edged in bright chrome. She had wanted one like it when she was first married, but it had been beyond their means. Now, at home, she had a glass-fronted fridge and freezer, like the ones at a corner store. She liked being able to study what was inside without having to stand there with the door open, running up the electric bill.
She opened one of the doors and examined the contents. Several loaves of bread, wrapped in plastic, filled one shelf. There were chickens, entire and in pieces, also in clear wrap, roasts, steaks, some kind of ground meat; all neatly sorted. The other side of the freezer contained ice cubes and tubs of what appeared to be ice cream. A cautious dip with a finger proved the theory. There were other items that she decided to investigate more fully later. Her brain was starting to overload again. However, there seemed to be everything they needed for an extended stay. She said so out loud.
“Hmmmm?” Daffyd looked at her, pulled out of his reverie by the sound of her voice.
“I said, ‘Everything we need for a long stay is right here,'” she repeated, then added, “Except for a change of clothes.”
Daffyd nodded, then his eyes narrowed as he considered her words.
“I want to go look at something upstairs,” he said suddenly.
“What?” she asked.
“I don't want to say until I've checked it out,” he replied, striding towards the stairs. “I have a thought about this place and I want to verify something before I tell you. I don't want you thinking I've gone insane. That's all you need right now; the fear that you're trapped here with a raving maniac.” His long legs carried him effortlessly up the stairs. Seren followed, curious to know what was going through Daffyd's mind.
The landing at the top of the stairs had a small window with a clothesline just outside. A solid shelf below was big enough to hold a laundry basket, and a canvas bag of clothespins hung on a hook beside the window. A door on the right led out into the main hall. Seren paused to glance out the window and wondered why she hadn't noticed the clothesline before. When she turned around, Daffyd had disappeared.
He had left the door open behind him. She hurried through, and down the hall. She called out his name, not knowing where he had gone. His voice replied from the second floor. She ran up the stairs and tracked him down in the master bedroom. He was going through the closets, examining the clothing with interest.
“What was it you said about a change of clothes?” he asked, his face carefully devoid of expression.
“Why? What have you found?” She came farther into the room.
“Yesterday, when I was looking around up here, I noticed that the closet was divided and that there was clothing for a man and a woman in it, and in the dressers.” He paused to gather his thoughts. Deciding that it was easier to demonstrate than to explain, he pulled a casual jacket off a hanger and put it on. It fit him perfectly. He held out his hands and turned in a slow circle, modeling the garment for her. He took it off, and returned it to its hanger.
“When I came up this time and looked, I discovered that the man's clothing seems to be my size. And I'll tell you right now, I can't buy clothes off the rack. I'm too tall, and too big.” He made a look at me gesture. “But so far, this all looks like it was made for me. I think you should look at the woman's things.”
She eyed him uncertainly. “What are you saying?”
“Please. Indulge me, would you?” He asked politely.
She shrugged and slid open the door to the other side of the closet. A complete wardrobe hung in neatly organized sections. Shelves on one side held sweaters and T-shirts. The hangers displayed skirts, blouses, dresses, and slacks. The labels were in that strange language, but the clothes looked to be about her size.
“Try something on,” he suggested. She leveled her gaze at him.
“There's not much here I can try on without getting undressed first. So, turn your back or leave the room.” She waited to see which he would do. To her surprise, he merely turned around, but put a hand over his eyes as well. She smiled at this, and, with her back facing his, quickly slipped out of her shorts and shirt, kicking off her sneakers in the process. She reached into the closet and took the first thing that came to hand; a dress. She pulled it over her head and looked at herself in the mirror. She gaped.
“It's safe to look,” she said in a quiet voice, staring at her image.
He opened his eyes, turned back toward her and caught his breath. The dress she was wearing could have been designed and made just for her. The dark green fabric clung to breast and hip and fell softly to her knees. Its neckline followed the contours of her bosom and showed the merest hint of cleavage. The sleeves hugged her arms to the wrists. She saw him in the mirror and pirouetted. The skirt flared out, showing her thighs.
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think you're beautiful,” he said before his mind could stop his mouth.
She smiled at the compliment, to his immense relief. He had known a few women in his life who took admiring comments from men as a form of sexual assault.
“Thank you, Daffyd. It's sweet of you to say so,” She took a few steps as if dancing, and spun again. The skirt lifted higher, exposing a longer flash of leg. He swallowed. He could feel his pulse quickening at the sight of her and he wracked his brain for a graceful escape.
“I love this dress,” she said. “It feels wonderful. Here, touch this.” She held out her arm. “Does that feel like silk to you?”
He stroked her forearm with his fingertips. “Yes.” His mouth had gone dry. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes, it ... it does. Definitely silk.” He continued the soft and gentle caress of her arm, the texture of the material irrelevant. He realized suddenly what he was doing, and almost snatched his hand away. “I'm sorry, Seren. The, uh, silk ... is so nice and ... soft ... you know ... to touch.” He didn't think he was going to get out of this.
“It's all right,” she dimpled at him. “I don't mind you touching me, Daffyd.” In fact, I wish you'd do it more.
“I'll remember that,” his smile verged on the grim. He desperately needed to remove himself from her presence before he lost wha
tever control remained. “I'll go see how Devany is, shall I, while you change back into your old clothes. Perhaps you could try on some other things.” He edged past Seren toward the door.
Seren nodded. “I was thinking of doing that. This is gorgeous, but it's not terribly practical for every day wear.”
“Absolutely. Well, I ... I'll just give you some privacy then,” he said, and fled. Seren watched the door close behind him and wondered what had bitten him. Again, she wished he wasn't so paranoid about physical contact with her. It was really starting to get on her nerves. Just now—for a moment—while he was stroking the silk sleeve, she had had a strong feeling that he was becoming aroused, and not because of the feel of the material. She smiled wistfully at her reflection in the mirror.
“I wish!” she told herself. She traded the dress for her old clothes. There would be time later today or tomorrow to play dress-up. She was just starting down the stairs when Daffyd appeared below.
“Seren,” he called up to her. “Is Devany up there? I can't find her anywhere down here.”
Remembering the difficulties they had had trying to get the child to go upstairs the night before, Seren doubted she would find her up here, but she agreed to search. She checked all the rooms, the closets, even knelt down and peered under all the beds. Nothing. She even looked in the linen closet. There was no sign of the little girl.
With growing concern, she hastened down the stairs. She ran into Daffyd as he emerged from the living room. She looked at him questioningly. He shook his head.
“Where could she have gone?” she asked.
“I don't know,” he replied, his mouth set in a firm line, his eyes worried. “I saw her go in the back door. I can't imagine where she would have gone. She wasn't in the basement....”
“Not when we were there, but maybe she went down after we went upstairs. I'll go look.” Seren headed for the door to the cellar stairs.
“I'll come with you,” he followed her. They searched the basement, the root and wine cellars, the tunnel that led to the barn and even the barn itself. She was nowhere to be found. They stood at the big doors looking out over the pasture. Seren had stomped on the fear that was gnawing at her, putting it aside so she could function. She knew that to give in to it would leave her paralyzed and helpless, and that would help no one.
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