That day, as soon as Preston and Edward had left the room to gather paper work, the lawyer had bent close to whisper in her ear. “Claudia, please listen, carefully. I know it’s hard; I know you’re in pain.” She remembered the warmth of his hand grazing her arm. “But, have you considered a pre-nuptial agreement before your marriage? It’s not that your fiancé isn’t wealthy. I mean…well, yes. But this kind of money, your money, could last for generations. You might want to consider safeguarding the bulk of it. I can help you.” His words sounded clipped, urgent.
“I don’t really understand.”
He’d frowned then, opening his mouth to speak.
But Preston and Edward had returned, and the moment was over.
Now, the thought of it gnawed at her. Perhaps she would have a second chance to speak with him; she hoped.
But the woman sitting in the courtyard, with the sun turning her chocolate brown hair into a halo of autumn highlights, was no lawyer. A gypsy? She gazed into Claudia’s eyes with a familiar intensity. She wore a long, orange dress, the skirt flowing to her feet and trailing the courtyard pavements as she walked towards her. Beautiful. She’s so beautiful. Who…?
For moments, she forgot to breathe. She pressed herself into Svetla, suddenly desperate to escape that gaze, to escape the feelings flooding her. Emotions she could feel would drown Preston’s carefully formulated world; a world she had felt safe in.
The gypsy stood, holding her hand out towards Svetla’s face, as if the nurse were an excited horse to be placated. “Go, now, all is well. Your charge is perfectly safe with me.”
Svetla’s body pulled back. Leaving, she’s leaving me. Panic tingled her spine.
“Claudia, don’t you recognise me?” The voice was low and smooth, as if coated in velvet.
“Yes. I think so.” Her mouth was dry. Her knees trembled and she fought to stay standing. But…somewhere, she felt love. Love and longing.
“It’s me, Oriana. It has not been so long, after all, barely a year.” The gypsy’s forehead crinkled. “Cosima knew…we knew you had memory loss, but we didn’t know how bad it was.” Her hand, still raised, waved back and forward before Claudia’s face, hypnotising in its grace.
“I do remember…something…I…” Claudia lowered her eyes and cleared her throat. “I feel something for you.” Peace, calm, love, joy. She tasted the emotions as they rolled over her.
The gypsy smiled. “Of course you do precious, we are family. You are of my heart. Here, come. Come.” Oriana held out her arms.
Magnetised, Claudia stepped towards Oriana, sitting now, on the patio chair, arms open and welcoming. Claudia curled into her lap, laying her head on the tanned shoulder, breathing in the scent of roses from the silken hair.
“There, there, my sweet lost one. Let the memories come. They must; they will in time. You’ve been too long in the control of master manipulators. I came for you as soon as I could, you must believe me. You’ve not been abandoned, it just took time for your green-eyed guides to find us, to tell us where to find you.” Oriana ran her fingers over Claudia’s hair, her arms, her hands.
Her mind exploded with images. “I can’t do this. It’s too much.” Claudia’s hands quivered as she clawed at her own head.
“Don’t be afraid, my sweet one. They’ve placed triggers in your mind to make you believe false memories, bad memories. Find your own, Claudia, they are your soul, your heart, your life. Embrace them and the false will separate from the truth. You will see clearly again.” As she spoke, Oriana pressed her thumbs around Claudia’s eyes, murmuring and chanting.
Claudia took a deep breath and let the war rage inside her head, trusting the woman who so lovingly held her. It would get clearer, she knew, somehow.
Then, she fazed into a trance, frozen within its spell.
“It is simple neuro-stress release, Claudia, not magic, relax and be calm.”
And so she did. The memories came. Her deep love for Dane and Brishan. The gatekeeper’s evilness, Spotty the cat, the lake, the terror of vigilantes at the chateau, Grace and Edward invading her life, and again, Brishan. Always Brishan.
Oh God, the train crash.
Now, she saw Brishan rushing towards her. Soothing her, calming her, loving her. Brishan, standing in the hospital, devastation killing him as she ordered him away, proving her dreams true.
And Preston, running from the train. Leaving her — and Grace — to die.
Not dreams, but truths, muddled and chaotic and confused, but penetrating the hard shell coating her soul.
Her mouth fell open as she squeezed Oriana’s arms. “You’re safe!”
Oriana smiled, a smile that did not reach her eyes. “Yes. My life is safe.”
Claudia’s stomach churned, her eyes watered with unshed tears and her chest heaved to contain her thudding heart.
Oriana clutched at her cheeks with sharp fingers. “We must leave here. Now. Your jailors return as we speak. Eamon is outside with a car, you don’t have time to pack anything.”
The last remains of an enforced fog lifted from Claudia’s mind, reacting to Oriana’s urgent tone. “You know they will search for me, they’ll do anything to get Grace’s money.”
“We know.” Oriana’s arms were under her shoulders, helping her to stand.
They stepped onto the street. A street she barely knew.
A round face, engulfed by a shock red hair, appeared to her. The Irishman, Brishan’s father, embraced her, cradling her like a broken dove, tears streaming down his freckled cheeks. “Brishan’s little fairy. You’re home now, sweetheart. Home with us. Forever.”
Home. Yes, home, I feel it.
“Come now, we must leave,” Eamon said, shuffling her into the back seat, his eyes glancing up and down the narrow, cobbled street. Oriana slid in beside her.
“What of Dane and Brishan?” Claudia caught Oriana’s hand, lost in the anticipation of reuniting with her father and her precious, precious Brishan.
Oriana’s eyes fluttered closed, hiding her thoughts. “You must trust me. No questions for now. Not now.”
“Okay.” Claudia held her breath.
“But an answer, please. Just then, when your memories returned in full, did you see yourself ordering Brishan away? At the hospital?” Oriana opened her eyes, and the intensity behind the brown forced a gasp from Claudia’s throat.
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart, there’s no easy way to tell you this. He chooses death rather than life without you and…there’s worse.”
“How can it be worse?” Claudia whispered, chest tight as narrow walls closed in over her heart.
“This is where you must trust me and ask no questions. Brishan is in grave danger and only you can help him. His mind is full of nothing but revenge and death and we can’t reach him, no matter what we do. Not even Cosima can help. We must focus on this. Now.”
“I dreamt…” Oh God, just breathe.
Oriana clutched at her shoulders. “What? What did you dream?
“He was…about to be shot. And…” Claudia gulped in air. “He didn’t care.”
“Claudia. This is very important. You and he are intrinsically linked. Your dream could help us predict his movements. Where were you?”
Claudia thought back to the smoky room with the seductive, red-haired woman. “In a room, maybe some kind of brothel. There were beautiful women, leather chairs, smoke. And men with guns.”
Eamon glanced back at Oriana from the driver’s seat and the air grew thick with tension.
“Faster, Eamon. Straight to the airport,” Oriana said.
Eamon accelerated the rental car through the winding streets of Prague. The city’s black turrets whizzed by; gone before Claudia had even begun to explore.
“Nothing is important right now, except your concentration, Claudia. We’re going straight to London on the first flight we can get. You must try to reach Brishan. It will be hard; he thinks you’re lost to him and he’s filled with pain, a pain even I can�
��t penetrate. But I know you can.” Oriana’s eyes filled with tears and her sadness scared Claudia to the core.
“I don’t know how to do that. The other times, like when I saw Dane, have been nothing but…accidents.”
“I understand. I’ll help you. We can meditate to a place where the outside world is irrelevant and you only speak to your inner being. This is the way you can reach him.”
Claudia reached for Oriana’s hand and nodded. All that mattered was Brishan and her life with him. With them all.
My family.
Under Oriana’s skilful hypnosis, Claudia tried to make sense of the scene through the clouds. London’s landmarks stood tall in the mist as the plane descended into the city, and she wished she’d been alert for her first ever plane trip.
I’ve failed. Brishan was still lost to her, even on the astral plane, even though she’d felt the thread of his love — somewhere. She’d tried searching for Dane also, even though it meant disobeying Oriana’s instructions. But she couldn’t help it; a void accompanied each thought of her father, unnerving her.
“Claudia, you’ve not failed. Every time you focus on Brishan, it brings us closer to him. You learn fast.” Eamon winked at her “But you still might need help with this,” he said and leant over to fasten her seatbelt.
Tired now, she smiled, no longer surprised at the perceptiveness of her new family. “I’m so sleepy.”
“That’s normal precious, close your eyes, rest a little, we’ll take care of you,” Oriana said, leaning over Eamon from the aisle seat to stroke Claudia’s cheek as the plane dipped low through the clouds.
The carnival grounds exploded with noise. Festival goers, music and the mouth-watering smell of fried food assailed her senses and Claudia held fast to Eamon’s hand. Lights flashed and bells rang as she was pulled through a maze of people. She realised she’d been holding her breath only when they ducked beneath a fence made of black, plastic tarps, to arrive at a small caravan park.
Cosima stood in the distance, a bright, solo figure in a purple and orange robe. “Hurry, there’s no time to lose.” The master healer’s voice rose above the noise.
Claudia’s heart thudded like the drums at the festival.
Standing in front of a large, bright caravan was Selina, arms open and tears flowing unchecked down her cheeks. Claudia ran to her and buried her face in the gypsy’s chest, soaking the unfettered love into her own heart.
“Sit.” Cosima commanded, pointing to a small footstool inside the caravan.
Selina looked at Claudia and nodded. “Sit here and close your eyes, my lovely one,” she said, indicating to Cosima it was time. With that, a potion smelling of aniseed and peppermint was shoved under her nose. “Drink.” She threw her head back to shot the black liquid. It warmed her throat, her stomach, her cheeks. Am I drunk?
“Claudia, close your eyes. Don’t worry. Just relax with it and please…visualise yourself tied by a thread to Brishan, an unbreakable thread. Grasp the thread and follow it, keep following it and trust that you will reach him,” Selina said, her tone low and melodic. “I know, we all know, you can reach my son. My only son.”
Claudia closed her eyes and tried to focus on Selina’s words.
She followed the long, thick thread, woven with gold, its end floating in front of her face and heading up into the sky, all the way to the horizon. She grasped it with both hands. One in front of the other, she climbed, higher and higher until the blue changed to rose pink. Scattered clouds moved through the twilight sky and within the clouds, images appeared.
There was a busy road, a wide building with a terracotta façade, a security guard standing beneath green awnings. And…Brishan! In front of the building. His hair gleamed, pulled back in a ponytail, and a grey suit hugged the rippling muscles of his lean body. The green eyes came closer into focus. He sees me… They narrowed as he watched her climb further up the thread towards him. She smiled and frantically pushed forward, groaning with the effort.
But the eyes turned away. Brishan turned so his back was to her, his fists balled and his shoulders rising and falling as if he struggled to breathe.
“Ahh…” she opened her eyes, shivering, crying, moaning into her hands.
“Are you all right, precious?” Oriana hugged her.
Claudia nodded, gasping as she tried to relay the vision to the anxious faces staring down at her.
“Harrods!” Eamon whooped, clapping his hand to his thigh.
“Yes, I see now, you have unmasked his emotional block. Clever girl, Claudia. But you have only minutes. Go,” Cosima said.
Just go? What do we do when we get there? He turned away…he doesn’t want me… She opened her mouth to speak.
“No, no questions. Not yet. Come.” Oriana reached for her elbow.
Selina raised a hand, in goodbye or good luck, Claudia couldn’t tell. “I would go with you, but I…I can’t…”
“Your son comes back with us. Trust me.” Oriana stared into her sister’s eyes as she pulled Claudia from the van.
And then they were running again, through the festival, weaving in and out of lines of people, all the way to Eamon’s old Renault parked on the street. Limping now, her leg aching in protest, Claudia slid into the car.
“Listen carefully.” Oriana turned to face her in the back seat. “When we find Brishan, we’ll stop the car as close as we can. You will have only a few seconds to stop him from getting into a black limousine. Do you understand?”
“This is crazy,” Claudia whispered.
“Yes, it is.” Oriana’s hand lifted to graze Claudia’s forehead, pressing her thumb over her third eye.
Calm. Important to stay calm. “Yes. I understand. But what if he refuses to listen to me, or even see me? He turned away from me only moments ago, yet, I know he saw me.”
“If he gets into the limousine…as you saw in your dream, so it will happen. He must not attack because of revenge.” Oriana paused, pushing her hair from her face, her trembling hand betraying her nerves. “He is a healer, foretold to be one of the greatest of our time, the act of it will kill him. But, right now, he has nothing in his heart but revenge.”
Sweat trickled down the back of Claudia’s neck. “Revenge for what? For…”
“I said no questions. Claudia, you must compose yourself.” Claudia could barely keep looking at Oriana, so intense were her eyes right then.
“Okay.” She steeled herself. She was on the verge of leaping headlong into a fire but it was one she didn’t create and didn’t know how to put out.
The car, under Eamon’s deft hands, took a sharp corner and the busy street from her vision materialised. Her eyes flicked over the pavement, searching for Brishan. Too many people, too many cars and motor bikes and buses. Don’t panic.
“There!” Oriana yelled.
Eamon cranked hard left on the steering wheel and the car screeched to a halt behind a bus. Claudia turned to look out the window.
Brishan.
He stood tall and rigid, one hand moving to open the back door of a sleek, black limousine. Claudia sensed his anger, his panic. His fearless resolve to die.
She flung the door open, hitting the pavement hard on the soles of her feet. She ran into the crowd surrounding Harrods, eyes glued on Brishan as he ducked his head to slide into the backseat of the limousine.
Her breathing deafened her. The light, the noise, the smell of fuel was ultra-sharp. Air whooshed by as she pushed arms and bags out of her way, weaving under elbows and dodging angry words blending together in a low drone.
So close now. His upper body disappeared inside the car.
She leapt forward, her arms reaching for his legs.
“Ahh…” Her knees smashed into the pavement as her hands caught Brishan’s ankles, pulling them out from under him.
Concrete grazed her chin and pain exploded in her jaw as her face connected with the gutter, trapped under the weight of Brishan’s falling body.
Her eyes filled with dirt as
black tyres, inches from her nose, whirled to life, screeching away from the curb. She blinked furiously and tried to focus on Brishan as he sprang to his feet above her.
His mouth gaped and his arms reached out to block bystanders as they rushed to her aid. A man pushed Brishan from behind, ordering him to move, screaming, “Help the girl!”
Me, I’m the girl. Focus. Breathe. Stand up.
Brishan shoved the man back into the crowd with one hand, all the while staring at her with crazy, tear-filled eyes.
Claudia struggled to sit, watching blood drip from her chin to stain the grey gutter red. Her tears mixed with the red as she met Brishan’s gaze, fighting her fear of what she’d find there.
Brishan knelt down to her, his hands lifting as if to cup her face.
“I’m not a ghost.” Claudia smiled, cringing as the movement tore at her skin.
“You must be…an illusion.” His voice cracked as he cradled the back of her head with one hand. The other gripped her elbow, helping her to stand, the strong fingers digging into her skin.
“I’m in too much pain to be an illusion.”
A tortured groan followed his sharp intake of breath. He pulled her face towards his. Feather light, Brishan touched his mouth to hers: a kiss so tender, so real.
She swayed, falling back, trembling so much she feared her legs would give way.
“I’ve got you, my fairy.” Brishan scooped her up in his arms, holding her against his chest as if she might break.
“And I’ve got you,” she rasped through the sting of gravel lodged in her skin.
He smiled then, a radiant, beaming smile as he turned to carry her through the crowd gathered on the pavement. Strangers stared at them; excited onlookers whispering, pointing, stepping reluctantly aside to create a path.
Gypsy Trail Page 22