She strode confidently onwards but a small tingling sensation forced its way into her brain. She had jarred her ankle and the pain of the swelling started to register. Beth wanted to leave Sun Street so she could begin her ascent of Main Street. She would leave the boys behind her and feel free from their patronizing sniggers. As she approached Main Street, she passed the antique shop and stopped. Her body stiffened as if bolted to the cobbles. She looked at the street lamp and a patch of cobbles underneath. She had fallen there that fateful stormy night. She walked over to the street lamp and stared at a couple of cobblestones. She wanted them to talk to her. Perhaps they would explain why this happened? Why her? An Indigo Child in the wrong place or was it the right place? Beth shook her head and tried to wipe away any negative thoughts from her mind.
She recognized the pattern of self-doubt. She had followed this well-worn path of feeling sorry for herself before. She thought about how her life may have been different. What if she would have been fortunate to have two loving parents? What if she would have been exposed to two strong role models? Beth’s strong body slumped as she continued to ascend the steep cobbled street. Her thoughts turned to Anwar, the kind old man in the allotment. He would have been wonderful in this situation. He would have put his Fatherly arm around her and dispensed some sage advice designed to make Beth feel better. His passing was sad. The thought of his overgrown allotment just made her indulge in self-pity. Sakura was a strong intelligent woman, the type that Beth longed to have as a Mother. Sakura was loving, wise and driven. She cared deeply for her daughter, Kaigara. Kaigara like countless before her, rebelled and took her Mother’s love for granted. Oh, how Beth would have loved a Mother to share thoughts, tears and concerns with.
She lowered her head to the wind and pushed her body forward against the grade of the hill. Her calf muscles protested mildly but the pain in her ankle was worse. Beth decided to ignore the pain and walked on with purpose. “I need some good advice,” she said to herself. “Good advice from someone who cares about people. I can’t simply hitch myself to the bar of the Black Bull and strike up a conversation with a stranger.” Beth knew she could always entice a man to talk with her. She also knew that the advice she would receive would be conveyed in drunken sound bites. The bar hogging men were all the same. They would love to spend time drinking with a pretty girl. They would offer their drunken advice as they peeked down her blouse. This fake sincerity would be an elaborate mask, in the hopes of a one-night stand and some bragging rights. “No thanks,” slipped from her lips. She had reached the Black Bull pub and turned her head to the left as she cast her eyes towards the Church. As if the wind were blowing her, she glided up the dark slate steps and entered the Church.
Beth entered walking to the right taking a position half way down the pews in a quiet spot. The Church was empty but a small noise drew her attention. At the altar, the Vicar came into view as he busied himself. He seemed to be adjusting a white cloth and rearranging a candle and some books. His back faced the pews unaware of any visitors. Beth leaned forward as she watched his actions. Her elbow nudged a prayer book, balanced precariously on the pews wooden ledge. To her horror it tipped and fell. As it struck the cold stone floor the edge of the book hit hard, making an audible noise. The Church was designed to capture and amplify the sounds of rejoice. The sound was directed with keen efficiency towards the Vicar. He turned quickly and had located Beth in an instant. He recognized her fresh face and calmly walked towards her.
“Beth, isn’t it?” inquired the Vicar.
“Mark, isn’t it?” replied Beth. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she regretted them. They sounded catty and snide. She really wanted to talk with Mark and have an honest conversation with him.
“That’s right. Are you here to pray and be alone with your thoughts or would you like to talk?” Mark looked deep into Beth’s green eyes. She decided right then that she could not bluff her way through this one.
“I need to talk Mark. I’m sorry to bother you but I don’t have anyone else. I just need to hear a supportive voice.”
Mark smiled. “I’m guessing you haven’t heard from your Fiancée yet?”
Beth looked at Mark. For a split second, she tried to decide if she should open up her soul to this man. He was a Vicar but he still was a relative stranger. Beth ran a couple of thoughts through her mind, “He was at least sober and probably not interested in looking down my blouse. I can trust this guy.”
Mark recognized her hesitation, “You only have to say what you’re comfortable with.”
“He’s surfaced in London. He’s alive and active.”
“Well that’s a relief, isn’t it?” Mark caught Beth’s facial expression and stopped immediately.
“I still don’t know why he left me but it’s clear that he was using me. My usefulness had come to an end and he’s moved on. I’ve met someone wonderful a couple of days ago and started to feel better about myself.” Beth stopped to look at Mark. She wondered if he would approve of finding a replacement so quickly. “I thought we had made a connection but I was wrong again. He left for something urgent. It was obviously far more urgent than me. I don’t understand men and I’m not sure I really want to. One thing is clear though; I must have a neon loser sign attached to my head. It flashes so brightly that it attracts the same type of losers like a moth to a flame. A man can be happy with any woman as long as he does not love her.”
The Vicar paused, raising his eyebrows slightly in a questioning manner.
Beth helped him out, “Oscar Wilde, it was Oscar Wilde.”
“Yes, it sounds like him. I’m sorry Beth; I don’t have a snappy quote for you. Your fiancé left for a reason. You’re hurt because you don’t understand his motives and that’s reasonable. If someone truly loves you they will come back, they’ll always come back. I can’t tell you how many times I have counseled a couple and always the same question surfaces. It doesn’t matter if it’s a young bride or the fortieth year of marriage. She will continue to ask, how will I know if he truly loves me? The first thing I’ve observed about relationships is this. All men are different. Some are silly romantic fools, while some are seemingly stone hearted. Throughout my years of counseling, I have only heard one consistent answer to this age-old question.
Men will say this: I’m still here aren’t I? You see Beth, men choose who they want to be with. Once the love stops, they leave. Like men, their logic is rather simple really. If they love you, they will always come back.”
Beth listened intently, her eyes transfixed upon the prayer book in front of her. “Matt’s not coming back and if he does, it won’t be with good intensions.”
“Will he hurt you?” The Vicar looked concerned.
“No. I’m being melodramatic,” said Beth, scrunching up her face.
“What about this new man?”
“I hardly know him; but I like him. I have strong feelings for him. He left me for some important business after he promised to help me.”
The Vicar lowered his gaze to meet her green eyes. “If he comes back, he likes you, if he doesn’t then just move on. Beth, you will have to trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”
“Sounds like you do. I’m onto you though.”
The Vicar moved nervously in his seat, “How so?”
“You don’t say much, you skulk around the Church dressed in black but you know a lot, you see a lot. It was Francois de La Rochefoucauld in the sixteen hundreds that said, the height of cleverness is to be able to conceal it.”
“And you think I use my robes to conceal the fact that I’m a very clever man? By the way I don’t skulk anywhere.”
Beth immediately switched to her serious mode, “What do you think I should do? I need to break this pattern of always being the victim and having people I care about just leave me. Am I the one who’s driving them away?”
The Vicar rested his hand in a supportive way, upon her forearm. “You’re wonderful and you mustn’t fill yourself
up with self doubt and worry. If you do, you’ll continue to attract men who will be only too pleased to leave you. Right now, I would recommend a good book. Go home and stop worrying. If your new man comes back, it means he really likes you. If he doesn’t, well …” the Vicar paused to select his next words carefully. “You’ll need to move on to a man who really appreciates you.”
“It’s complicated and the white noise in my head is my doing.”
“So settle it down. Relax and stop over thinking everything. Set your intention and let it go. Trust that the Lord will deliver it for you, when you’re ready.”
“I’m hoping that David will come back.” Beth listed to her own words. It was the first time that she realized how much David meant to her. She really wanted David and it scared her.
The Vicar released her forearm, “Try to relax and give him some room to tip his hand.”
“I will. I torture myself you know. What if he meets a pretty girl while he’s away? There are so many beautiful women in this world and so few refined men. What if he wants to keep us both on the go? Is that a possibility and how would I know?”
“A man with a watch knows what time it is.” The Vicar raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“A man with two watches is never sure,” said Beth, completing the quote.
“If he loves you, he will come back. Go now and stop turning yourself into tighter knots.”
“Thank you Mark, you’re right.”
Mark smiled as he placed both hands on the back of the wooden pew. Mark caught himself hoping that this new man would indeed come back to protect her fragile heart.
* * * * *
Chapter 23: Kissing is Natures Coffee
Beth followed her normal pattern, a trick she used when she wanted to calm her mind. She threw herself into her work. She let the busy pace consume her idle hours. For the last two days all Beth could think about was the new leisure complex in Taiwan and the details of the land purchase. She had swapped emails with Kaigara in Toronto and analyzed the financial package forwarded to her. She had conducted online chat sessions with Sakura and informed her lawyers to conclude the transaction. The property seemed like a good investment. It would provide a steady income stream from its visitors and guests. This income could provide welcome relief for the women’s shelters in India. Swan Property Management had donated their services in this transaction. The revenue generated would support Sakura’s charity and cause.
Beth felt good about making a difference and continuing the legacy of the work that Anwar had started. She waited for the email. The confirmation would come from Mr. Wilks of the Blue Phoenix Group. Beth had left the TV on to provide some background noise. The sound of voices was comforting. She rose to turn the TV off. She stopped to look at the athletic figures moving on a beautiful carpet of green. The caption showed Liverpool Football Club completing a game against Manchester United. The home fans were singing. Kenny Dalglish was smiling broadly on the screen, his name captioned under his image. Liverpool had managed to score twice and Manchester United only once. Beth clicked the off button and returned to her desk.
She glanced at the little wooden Lord Ganesha, sitting attentively on top of her computer monitor. “The remover of obstacles,” she said fondly. As she studied the details of Ganesha’s face, she heard the doorbell ring. Beth moved quickly and grasped the door handle. She didn’t stop to see who was there; she simply pulled the door open. David smiled sheepishly.
“Go get your coat, I’d like to take you out for a coffee.” He was worried about the reaction he’d get. Would she be glad to see him or annoyed at his departure?
Beth felt a warm tingle of relief sweep through her body. She didn’t know what to do, so she just followed her instincts. She lunged forward and planted a passionate kiss, wrapping her arms around David’s neck. She just blurted it out, “Kissing is natures coffee.” She gazed deep into his brown eyes and watched the wind blow strands of his black hair from his face. She felt the skin around her eyes crinkle, as a smile swept uncontrollably across her face. David was surprised, but happy.
He guessed, “Mark Twain?”
“Nah, not even close, it was Scott Westerfeld. Come in for a minute. I really missed you.” Beth searched for her coat.
“Beth, I’m serious. I’m so sorry I had to leave. I want to tell you all about it, about what I found. See, I’m getting all tongue-tied with excitement.” David took Beth by the hand and marveled at how pretty she was. “I know we’re moving fast but when I was away from you, I realized something.”
“What’s that?”
“I noticed that I didn’t feel right. I needed to be close to you. I missed you. Beth, I haven’t felt that way before.”
Beth moved to within inches of David’s face and looked deep into his eyes. “I know. I willed you home. I knew you’d come back. Just don’t leave again without me,” she said with a wry smile.
“Let’s go get that Coffee, I have a lot to tell you.” David moved towards the door and Beth held his sleeve, pulling him backwards. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him passionately again. Beth noticed he smelled sweet and clean.
“You smell good,” she said approving of the new fragrance he was wearing. When they separated, she could not help but smile. “Did you know that Mark Twain had a coffee quote? He said, the best coffee in Europe is Vienna coffee, compared to which all other coffee is fluid poverty. Isn’t that a neat quote? I love that term, fluid poverty.”
David smiled; he knew his decision to return was the right one. It wasn’t just a feeling of obligation; he was falling for her and needed to protect her from any harm. He knew he’d lost his heart as she smiled and led him out of the door. Together they found a little coffee shop and a quiet corner. David reached out across the table and Beth cupped his hands in hers. David told Beth of his email from the Sampan Man and his trip to Amsterdam and Cologne. He left out locations and a few key details to ensure that Beth did not have all of the facts. He wouldn’t want to compromise the Servants of Byblos. David felt strong and the ache in his left knee had disappeared. He leaned back in his chair. The Amulet hanging from his neck moved under his shirt. Just then his nostrils caught the sweet smelling scent. He instinctively moved his hand to his neck. He ensured the Amulet was tucked away out of sight, safely within his shirt.
Beth noticed a tint of gold from a ring on David’s finger. “That’s nice, did you buy yourself a gift?” She reached out to touch the ring.
David looked confused, “I don’t know what you mean Beth. I was wearing this when we met. Perhaps you didn’t notice?”
Beth knew this to be false. David had just taken a hot knife and plunged it deep within her heart. She had offered her heart and yet again another man lies to her. She had admired his hands when they met, how smooth they were. She had studied them and admired their simple honesty. She would have noticed a gold ring. She would have reviewed its design. Now he lies and tries to make her look forgetful. How could she trust him now?
The deceit must have swept across her face because David corrected himself quickly. “Beth I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I thought I could keep a secret from you. I wanted to protect you. I now realize that I don’t want to keep any secrets from you. You’re too important to me.”
“The face is the mirror of the mind, and eyes without speaking confess the secrets of the heart.” Beth watched as the quote’s meaning sank into David’s conscious thoughts.
He looked up at her eyes, “You have another one don’t you?”
She laughed, “Yes. Of course I do, that’s why you love me.” There was an awkward silence and no time to retract the statement. Their eyes locked and that delicious moment held. “If you reveal your secrets to the wind then you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.”
The Skin of the Gods Page 32