Hadrian's Wall

by Felicia Jensen

  I turned to the hallway and realized two things at once: Stunned, Marjory looked at me and Charity had a face somewhere between disturbed and angry. She quickly donned her sunglasses, hiding the emotion that had begun to sparkle in her eyes. Then she walked along the hall without looking back.

  At the door of the museum, Marjory bade us a gentle goodbye.

  9

  PANTHERS’ EYES

  Charity moved in front of me, walking gracefully towards the Porsche. I felt like she was still angry, but I didn’t understood why. Instead of unlocking the car, she pointed to the lakeside dock and walked on. I moaned softly, thinking how much I’d prefer to ride rather than walk in my uncomfortable shoes.

  “I’d like to show you the façade of our club on the shores of Bluewater Lake.

  The pier was crowded with sailboats and motorboats. On the right, the jagged cliff stood majestically above the calm and gleaming waters, providing a dramatic touch to the beautiful scenery.

  The Panther’s Cliff, I deduced, observing that the wall surrounding the entire uptown area ended at the base of the cliff.

  Wow! What a view the Cahills had from their hilltop mansion. Watching the sun set over the calm waters of the lake would be a magical experience.

  “The Cahills came from Scotland?” I inquired.

  “Uh huh! And the families of their loyal vassals,” Charity replied. “Did you know that our county is known as the ‘Celtic Pearl of Maine’?” she added.

  I raised my eyebrows, looking at the gorgeous lake. It’s name was appropriate.

  “Your family is very important,” I said with a crooked smile to soften that truth.

  “Incredibly, the Cahills made a fortune at sea,” Charity said, oblivious to my dis-comfort. “The family business started with navigation, but since then has diversified. Today, the name Cahill represents several developments, mostly consolidated in the pharmaceutical industry.”

  My shoulders slumped. The size of the Cahill fortune was more than I could imagine.

  “Why the pharmaceutical industry?” I asked.

  “Well, all of the Adrians of the family have had a special interest in the public health, in one way or another. Besides warriors and kings, the family tree has the presence of druids and doctors. The last three generations of firstborn were graduated as medical experts. Adrian’s father, who is a surgeon, founded the town’s hospital.

  “So, Adrian decided to follow in the footsteps of his father and grandfather?”

  “Not exactly… He and Adrian Senior don’t get along very well. They barely speak since the death of AC’s mother, who suffered from a rare blood disease—a disease that also affects the nervous system. For this reason, AC decided to devote himself to seeking a cure. He traveled abroad, began studying in a prestigious medical school in Germany and found the best specialists. I think, deep down, what he wanted was to rescue himself...like save the essence of what he’d lost a long time ago. But now, when he least expected it, he found you... Charity was looking at me strangely. “To everyone’s surprise, he decided to return and complete his studies at the University of Wall.”

  So, he’d only recently arrived in Hadrian’s Wall?

  “Adrian Senior was never the same after his wife died. In my opinion, he couldn’t give his child as much attention as he should have. AC was and still is an impetuous young man. By the time his mother died, he needed a great deal of support and guidance. If not for Stephen and Vincent...” She shook her head, obviously recalling painful events. “It looks like father and son have begun to reconcile. They’re still far from having an ideal relationship, but at least it’s a start.”

  “How is Adrian’s father?” I tried to create a mental image about him, but I couldn’t. Only Adrian’s face came to mind.

  “He’s an old man—very sick, reclusive, suspicious...someone who doesn’t receive any visitors. He sees virtually no one. In my opinion, ‘eccentric’ is the adjective that best describes him, but deep down, my uncle is the sensitive type who is interested in humanitarian causes.” She looked at me askance. “I think you’re the reason for their reconciliation.”

  “Me? Why?”

  She laughed at my astonishment, but remained annoyingly composed.

  “Adrian Senior hardly ever leaves the house. Very few people are honored with his friendship. Consequently, it’s very rare that anyone has permission to visit him. However, he has innumerable contacts. He hears everything happening in town.” She looked back as if to say ‘why are you taking so long?’

  I suppressed a groan of anger for tripping over the paving stones again.

  “When the old man heard about your...unusual appearance, he wanted to know more about you. Because AC was on duty in the ER on the night that paramedics brought you in, Adrian Senior called his son for more information. It was the first time that their conversation lasted more than two minutes. After that, Adrian Senior was visiting you in the hospital. It was an historic event because he never leaves his house...never.”

  Huh?

  “But you were still unconscious...” She continued, oblivious to my almost catatonic state. He became fascinated with you as soon as he saw you. Can you believe it? He said you resembled his deceased wife, so he simply decided to care for you...as if you were the daughter he never had. You should have seen his joy, the glow in his eyes when he told the hospital staff to give you all of the attention they possibly could.

  No doubt this explains why I got so much care at no charge. So, I looked like Adrian’s mother. Now, I understood why he watched me in that peculiar way.

  “And one more thing, AC also has a special affection for you,” she added. “He really cares about what might happen to you, so he decided to swallow his pride and go to his father to talk about your drawings.”

  My heart pounded, then almost immediately a sinking feeling set in. When she said that Adrian had a special affection for me, I was delighted; but she’d already mentioned the humanitarian motives of Adrian’s father and my alleged resemblance to Mrs. Cahill, so I concluded that the son’s motivation was pity.

  Suddenly, I understood something that I hadn’t realized before—the contents of a conversation between father and son.

  “My drawings?”

  Instead of answering my question, she interrupted me. “I believe you don’t know about our university.” She pointed to some buildings across the valley, surrounded by woods. “The UWall has a renowned art school.”

  No, no, no! Rewind the tape! I stopped short. I felt a throbbing in my head and pressed my fingers against my temples. Please, not now!

  “You said that Adrian spoke to his father about my drawings. Why?”

  She smiled but said nothing. How annoying!

  “You’ve got a benefactor... or godfather, if you prefer.”

  I opened and closed my mouth. I must have looked like a fish out of water.

  “Adrian’s father?”

  “Yes, no, I mean...” She looked at me askance. Okay, straight to the point! Adrian Senior has a project that is near and dear to his heart, but for many years the family business has left no time for it. Now he’s old and sick, so he decided that he cannot postpone its execution any longer. The only snag is that he needs someone to assist him with the paperwork—someone who has time and talent for drawing...in other words, you!”

  “What project and how exactly can I help him?”

  “My uncle wants to write the family memoirs—the whole saga from its origins until today. He plans to use illustrations to depict the Cahill clan from the ancient and medieval period. Here’s where you come in. It would be a big boost for your artistic career, would it not?”

  I got her...at least I thought I understood what she was saying, but when she continued to talk, I realized there were still more revelations to come.

  “He needs...really needs an illustrator with your talent, but he also needs help with the notes and diaries of the family which will be used to write the memoirs. He does not see
well, you know...” She hesitated, seeming a little embarrassed. “In other words...I’d better get straight to the point. Adrian Senior has sent me here today to offer you a job.”

  I was in shock. I had deduced that she’d come to me because of Adrian—the son, not the father, but apparently he was not involved...at least not directly.

  I seriously thought about what she told me, but I could not make a decision. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t accept charity from anyone more...even from Charity (a miserable pun), but also because of my attraction to the family’s only son. It would be humiliating.

  “It won’t work,” I said. “Tell him ‘thank you from the bottom of my heart,’ but I cannot accept his offer.”

  Charity stopped walking and turned to stare at me in astonishment.

  “But...why? It’s the chance of a lifetime! Many artists around the world would kill to have that job!”

  “One more reason not to accept. I did nothing to deserve this opportunity. Your uncle has never seen my drawings, so he doesn’t know if I’m up to the task. I couldn’t commit myself to doing something that will disappoint him later.”

  She bit her lower lip, staring at the ground. I thought I heard her mumble something like ‘Obviously, I’m not doing this right...he’ll kill me’ but I wasn’t sure.

  Having regained her composure, Charity gazed at me again in her typical coquettish way. “AC described your drawings to my uncle. He persuaded him that you are exactly the kind of illustrator that the great patriarch needs. He was already prone to protect you so he didn’t need much encouragement to get excited about the idea.”

  “I will not accept pity!” I cut her explanation short.

  Maybe I was feeling a perverse satisfaction in seeing her less arrogant in front of something that only I could give her. That is my “yes.”

  Perhaps this satisfaction was responsible for making me reject the proposal so strongly. Still, I was impressed with her persistence. I wanted to see how far she would go to get something that she obviously she didn’t like to do.

  “As I said before,” Charity interjected, “although they don’t talk much, my uncle respects AC’s opinions and vice versa. Listen...It’s not pity. It’s a job. Where and when will you have another opportunity like this?”

  “A job...right. I nodded my head and Charity smiled again. “I need time to think about it. If I accept...and I’m not saying I will...but I won’t give you an answer until after Adrian’s father looks at my drawings with his own eyes.”

  She said nothing before turning on her heel and pointing to the landscape ahead, calling my attention to the next sight she wanted to show me. I blinked several times, delighted with the architectural diversity. The lakeside clubhouse looked like a Spanish monastery.

  “Here is where the liveliest festivities take place—the most important events of the town and the county. The clubhouse has a disco, a ballroom, an amphitheater, a sauna, and both an indoor and an outdoor pool.” She looked like a real estate agent trying to convince someone to buy a property. “You can’t see it from here, but over there, on the terrace overlooking the lake, is the club’s restaurant called ‘Le Solitaire Promeneur.’” It was recently recognized with six stars on the international guide of the finest restaurants in the world...one star more than most of the world’s most traditional restaurants. Isn’t too much?”

  This is too much... for my mind.

  * * *

  The pier was connected to a lush landscaped square with wide sidewalks decorated with colored tiles. The public gardens, as well as the sidewalks’ layout demonstrated that the whole place had been planned by some genius of landscape architecture.

  I saw people jogging, others walking their dogs, or exercising on the equipment in the fitness center. Wherever I looked I was amazed to view such a peaceful, beautiful vista. The contrast between the old stone buildings and the standard buildings made of brown bricks replicated different architectural styles. It was a difficult balance to explain, but it was there and it worked! I think this combination made Hadrian’s Wall a unique town.

  I heaved a sigh. It was a shame we couldn’t stay longer. I could be happy just sitting on a bench or stand on the pier and gaze at the lake, but the gentle breeze had begun to dissipate the late afternoon heat, making me suspect that a change of temperature was imminent, repeating the pattern of the last several days.

  As the afternoon drew to a close, I thought I’d better speed up my “plan,” but Charity said, “I think we should go. Whenever the next party takes place at the Club, you’ll get to see the interior decor. You’ll be my guest of honor!” She pretended more enthusiasm than she probably felt. “It’s really a shame that we don’t have enough time to see it now.”

  Charity radiated grace as she glided along the sidewalk. No longer did I feel like a clumsy ogress, I now felt like a real orangutan! She paraded and I stumbled as we returned to where the Porsche was parked.

  While Charity maneuvered the exotic car out of the parking lot and back onto the road, I held onto my head scarf to avoid losing it.

  “Do you have a dream that you want to come true?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

  Well, two can play that game.

  “Apart from having a cottage to myself on top of an isolated mountain, outside of the civilized world?” I glanced at her to see her reaction. “Definitely, a golden retriever for company. Oh, let me see... a good job would be cool...for now, of course. You know, something to fill my time and so I wouldn’t starve,” I joked.

  “Dating? Marriage? Children?” she suggested, her voice speculative.

  Indiscreet questions!

  “No way,” I said, lowering my head, but replying in the same irreverent tone as before. “Love is not for me.”

  She frowned, but said nothing.

  “I’d rather have a dog,” I said. “I think I’m too young to think about marriage, children...divorce.”

  The silence was lengthy, until suddenly Charity said, “If what you want is a house, a dog, and a good job, I don’t understand why you’re so reluctant to accept my uncle’s proposal.”

  Checkmate!

  “Seriously, Charity...I really want be a professional who could meet your uncle’s expectations, but I’m not...I’m just an amateur.”

  She sighed. We were driving up a steep slope, about to reach the main wall.

  “You need have more confidence in yourself, Mel. Adrian wouldn’t have spoken with his father about your drawings if he didn’t feel they were as good as they are. I, too, have seen what you can do.”

  “A mere caricature,” I sniffed. My tone was contemptuous.

  “As an illustrator, you should know that making caricatures is not easy,” she gently scorned.

  Yeah, I know, but I wasn’t willing to concede my position.

  “I have other priorities, now...such as recovering my true memories.” Would she recognize my defiant tone?

  Silence. The car made a sharp turn. I grabbed the handle so that I wouldn’t feel the impact of the seatbelt on my ribs.

  “How’s your therapy going with Adam?”

  Seriously! I couldn’t get used to her sudden changes of subject.

  “I really like him,” I said “It seems like we’ve known each other for years.”

  She gave me a quick, sharp glance.

  “Adam is great friend of our family.”

  I detected a touch of melancholy in her voice. Did she have a crush on my doctor? That would explain his dislike of me, wouldn’t it?

  “He’s very competent, you know... but their methods are not ...conventional.”

  I nodded, understanding exactly what she was saying.

  “Yep! We’re playing RPG.”

  “What?” She gave me an incredulous smile.

  “He proposed a game. If I participate, I get pieces in order to assemble my own personal puzzle.”

  She shook her head. Her face was a mix of delight, surprise, and something else that
I couldn’t identify. She became even more mysterious when she commented to herself, “He found a genius way. Amazing!”

  Why would role playing games be something amazing?

  Well, whatever it was, she didn’t give me time to think about. She quickly began pointing to the houses we were approaching as we proceeded uphill.

  “You also decided to pursue the profession of your ancestors?” Now it was my turn to change abruptly the subject.

  “No. I couldn’t...cutting people. I think...I don’t...I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I had to do that.” She gave me a tremulous smile. “Actually, I’m taking a specialization in biochemistry to help Adrian in his studies on human blood. Our family has laboratories working in the production of medicines. Some of them are directly involved in further research on blood diseases.” She absentmindedly touched her pearl necklace—two strands around her slender neck as she pondered what to say. “Let’s say that now I’m getting ready to take over the management of central Cahill laboratory.”

  This platinum blonde who wore French perfume and adorned herself with pearls, is she a biochemist? Who could say? She didn’t look like a nerd or a lab rat...yet appearances can be deceiving indeed. The more time I spent in Hadrian’s Wall, the more I realized the truth of the old saying—appearances can be deceiving...

  Charity stopped the car at a lookout point from which the lower part of the town could be seen. She got out and headed straight for the guard post that I had seen as we left the hospital. I was mesmerized by the panoramic view that seemed to have come straight out of a movie—the mountains silhouetted in the background, the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky, the waters of the lake shimmering...but when I realized that Charity was not in sight, I ran to catch up with her.

  As I approached the guardhouse, I realized I had been previously mistaken—the guards I’d seen were not police officers, they were private security guards. They wore dark uniforms with a small emblem on the vest. This time I couldn’t control my curiosity.

  “Do you have a Police Department?”