The Voice Of The Voiceless

by S A Tedman

  Alfred coughed lightly, a habit he had to announce he was about to speak.

  “Beautiful morning, isn't it, Madam?”

  “It is indeed, Alfred, it is indeed.”

  “A much needed August rain it would seem. Perfect way to clean up the air.”

  “It was getting uncomfortable, yes Alfred.”

  She turned to him, waiting for him to finish the small talk.

  “You seem happy, if I may say so, Madam.”

  “Don't I always seem happy, Alfred?” she mused.

  “Of course, Madam, but today you seem… happier than usual.”

  Elisabeth smiled at him fondly.

  “It was a joke, my old friend.”

  “So it was good news then?”

  “Yes. Wonderful news, news we have been waiting for since - oh, I don't know - since the start of this all.”

  She waved at the world as if the man by her side was supposed to understand.

  Alfred brought out a silk handkerchief from his inside vest pocket and handed it over to her.

  “Alfred? Why are you handing me a hanky?” she asked him carefully.

  “You never know, Madam. I’d better go and check up on Frank if you will excuse me.”

  Alfred left a perplexed Elisabeth to look at the piece of silk in her hand.

  Oh well, she thought. I’ll find out sooner or later.

  The Academy grounds were buzzing with life again, having recovered from their nocturnal visit and it seemed as if things were back to normal. She would have loved to go back to bed, but she had things to do. Today was the start of something special, but until the rest of the world woke up, it was time for breakfast.

  After her meal, which Frank had made with great care (an assortment of extra-bloody raw meats - just as she had asked for) she decided to sit down in the sitting room instead of her office to try and decide on the best course of action.

  I only have a single sanctuary in the South of France, near Montpellier, she thought. Better announce my arrival and get a team ready. Carcassonne is small and doesn’t have that many maternity wards, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find this “Marie”.

  Elisabeth frowned. She would need a couple of agents to act as his parents and another person, one she could trust. Yes. If the baby could bring him back… well. She definitely needed someone she could count on. Someone like Victoria, in fact. She would have to give her a call.

  She looked around and sighed, almost able to see him, sitting at the table like he would every morning. He would have woken up by now and taken a shower, coming into the sitting room in his dressing gown, smelling of vanilla aftershave and musky, exotic perfume. He’d read the DailyFold newspaper while he waited for his breakfast and students. In her mind’s eye, she could see his face light up as he heard the doors to their dormitories open, and their feet run down the stairs to join him.

  As the decades had worn on and turned into centuries, she’d lost hope that he’d ever be brought back, but after the elk's visit, she felt like a child on her way to Disneyland for the very first time. She was excited, she was anxious, she was desperate, desperate for his endless questions and life lessons, his bursts of understanding and generosity. She yearned to watch him teach his students and tell off the ones that would be too rowdy, laugh as they would squabble, and praise the ones that would create beauty and wonder. He was a father to them all, protecting them and keeping them safe, or at least… that's what he should have been.

  Elisabeth had lived a double life her entire existence. She knew how things were meant to be, and she’d done her very best to replace as many of his actions as she could, to stop the world around her from collapsing, but she had failed. It was too hard.

  She hadn’t been able to replace him, no matter how hard she’d tried. She hadn't even managed to find Alan, although she’d been looking for decades. Of all the students who had walked these grounds, she missed him the most. The smell of his cigarettes, his endless flirting, his cheerful smiles no matter how miserable his life was… He’d loved him like a father with all his heart, of course, they all had.

  And she hadn’t been able to save them. She hadn't even managed to save Frank.

  She missed them all so much.

  But this all could still be fixed, according to the elk. Everything would be back to normal once he returned.

  Elisabeth was desperate for normal.

  She looked up from her reverie and saw Alfred outside through the glass doors washing the Bentley by the entrance of the Academy.

  She had wanted to ask him many times if he too could see into this ‘other’ reality but hadn't dared. Besides, it was impossible. Only she was plagued with the knowledge of a lost world, but sometimes she did wonder at the way he looked at her knowingly.

  She wished she could tell him not to worry, that all this would soon be over. Eighteen years, a mere heartbeat compared to centuries of pain and loss and waiting.

  She lay back and started counting the number of years she’d been without him. Before long, she felt herself drift off and stretched her legs out on the couch, resting her head on one of the decorative cushions. The night was catching up with her, and she could use some sleep. Just a quick nap, perhaps?

  She felt someone cover her with one of the little polar blankets that were always to hand and she smiled and whispered a thank you to Alfred, realising he must have come back inside.

  “You are very welcome my lady,” came a deep, smooth voice from afar, and she snapped opened her eyes as she sat up, her heart beating out of her chest.

  Alfred was still outside washing his car, and she was alone.

  She was also covered with the little green blanket.

  She lay back down on the sofa and started to weep silently.

  Silly Alfred, she thought, reaching for the hanky he had given her. He was right.

  Elisabeth opened the vault hidden behind the only hanging painting in her office, an original Mondrian composition, and brought out a very old bottle of whisky and a dusty vinyl record that she had been keeping since the late 1950’s.

  Over the last few days, she’d managed to elaborate a plan and was feeling particularly good about it. It was time for a reward. She sat back deep into her swivel chair, daydreaming happily about the decades to come.

  She couldn't wait for him to return, to hear his voice, and smell his minty, distinctive odour. Although she wasn't a fan of mint, she knew she loved his smell above all others.

  She missed their afternoon tea together that they would share in the greenhouse in Spring or by the pool in Summer.

  Dammit! She had forgotten to add the pool.

  She would have to get round to that.

  How the hell had she managed to forget?

  Although she’d tried to build the Academy exactly as it was meant to be, there were still some slight differences that she hadn’t been able to help herself but make. She’d never been able to bring herself to have his study built, nor his bedroom either for that matter, so she’d had to build her own, despite it being fundamentally different. And now it seemed she had forgotten to add the pool…

  It was bloody well time for him to return, she thought, frowning, as she placed the needle on the disk and waited for the chocolaty voice of Billie Holiday to resonate through the room. It was a music compilation of the songs that should have filled the school hallways, and when the singer hit the high note, Elisabeth popped the cork of the whisky bottle she had been saving. It was the same brand he would drink while listening to jazz and smoking expensive cigars, and she smiled contentedly.

  A quiet knock interrupted her celebration, and she poured herself a generous amount, turning down the record player as she nursed her glass.

  “Come in, Alfred.”

  The Butler entered and cleared his throat.

  “Madam? Would you like your dinner in here?”

  “Oh no, thank you Alfred, in fact, I need to talk to you. We have much to do together.”

  “Will you
be needing Frank as well?”

  “Yes. I think he is attending to the garden. I will see you both at dinner and yes, you will both eat with me tonight. Official business.”

  Alfred nodded and left without a word.

  She was going to need their help for her plan to work.

  “We are listening, Madam.”

  Elisabeth looked at them both fondly. Alfred and Frank, her closest and most trusted friends.

  She cleared her throat.

  “When I built the Academy, you followed me without question, without demand. You trusted me as you always have and you never once doubted my words.”

  They nodded patiently as she took a deep breath.

  “The course of events leading up to this point have put the three of us on the same path, to finish this journey together. You do not know this, but we are exactly where we were supposed to be.”

  She knew she wasn't making any sense, but she couldn't even start explaining her cryptic words.

  She sighed and realised she needed to do things differently.

  “Do you trust me?” the Headmistress asked simply.

  “Yes Madam,” Alfred answered, smiling at her warmly.

  “With me life, Ma'am,” Frank nodded and showed off a set of perfect pearls.

  “Good. I'm glad you see me that way. Right. I need your help.”

  “Whatever you need, Madam.”

  “The Academy is about to change. We have ten years to turn it into one of the best schools in the world.”

  “I thought it was one of the best schools in the world,” Alfred said, nonplussed.

  “It is. But it needs to be turned into an art school.”

  There was a silence until Frank shrugged.

  “You know me, Ma'am! You tell me to jump, I jump, you tell me to clean I clean, so if yer tellin' me the Academy haster be a school for artsy folk, then it'll be a school for artsy folk.”

  Alfred coughed politely.

  “May we ask why, Madam?”

  “You may, but I'm not sure the answer will be helpful.”

  “Try me,” he said softly.

  “Because in eighteen years, a boy will come to this school. He is special, very special: he is the answer to all our prayers. He will be gifted in arts, and this school must be his best option.”

  “And how will you proceed?”

  “I'm not sure yet. I don't have a single drop of artistic sensitivity in my body, quite the contrary. You know I don't like all of that nonsense, Alfred, but I will make an effort and learn. I don’t even know where to start, but I know you have an affinity with the artistic world. Perhaps you could help me.”

  Alfred nodded. He seemed to be satisfied with her answer, which was good as she didn't know what else to say.

  “How exactly can we assist you, Madam?”

  She stood up and looked out of the glass doors onto the school grounds.

  “Frank, I need you to tear down the south side building, and I'll send you the architect so you can make a new workshop for the students. We will be putting up three new buildings, and I will, of course, hire the best art teachers from around the world. What date is it today?”

  “Tenth of August, Madam.”

  “Right, so school starts in two months, not enough time to finish everything, but in five years, the students that are starting this year will have graduated. The ones entering their first year next October need to start on the new programs. One year should give us enough time to introduce the new students to the art sections. All of this must be in place by October 1992. Alfred, I will need your help writing these new programs, finding new teachers, reaching out to other schools and making sure this plan works. This school was always meant to be an Academy, just not one for regular children. It was meant to be special.”

  “It is special, Madam,” Alfred said smiling.

  “I know, but that's not what I meant. The changes we’ll make will be huge, but they will only be temporary. If all goes well, soon enough, things will be as they should. This Academy will finally be able to fulfil its purpose, and become what it was meant to be.”

  She paused and gently placed her hand on the wall.

  “A sanctuary for people like us.”

  “Come in.”

  Elisabeth was sitting at her desk wearing her black and white Lanvin suit from the summer collection and had readied three folders for the meeting she’d arranged. The door opened tentatively.

  “Mrs Delroy.”

  “Charles, lovely to see you. Where is Marianne?”

  “On her way, Ma'am.”

  “Good. Take a seat.”

  Charles was an ordinary looking man. He was much smaller than Elisabeth but what he lacked in height he made up for in girth, clearly indulging in all the wrong foods. He looked about 25, but what would she know? If Immortals had one thing in common, it was their total incapacity in telling a person’s age. He hadn't changed a bit since their last encounter in the late 1970's.

  He was wearing a cheap looking brown suit and had combed his blond hair back giving the impression he was bald - most likely in an effort to look prim and proper, which Elisabeth might have appreciated - had he bothered to shave. She wasn't too keen on beards, and she watched as he fidgeted anxiously in his seat, as was his custom. He was hogging a dirty handkerchief, snivelling and wiping his nose; using the same dirty piece of material to wipe his glasses, trying to get rid of the smudges.

  Elisabeth was not very fond of Charles.

  Alfred entered with a knock bringing a tray of tea and biscuits and placed it on the table by Charles's side. The butler closed the door behind him as he left, and a few moments later a female voice came from the other side asking if she could come in.

  In stark contrast to Charles, the woman who entered her office, looked her finest, wearing a suit, with high heeled shoes and a designer handbag. She had tied her hair up in a flawless bun, using just the right amount of makeup and the perfect shade of lipstick to highlight her model-like features. She smelled of fresh flowers and showed no sign of fear or discomfort as she walked towards the Headmistress.

  “Marianne, please take a seat.”

  “Mrs. Delroy, I came as fast as I could,” she said apologetically, sitting down.

  “Thank you, I know it was on short notice. This won't take long; I have here your next order of mission.”

  They both nodded and waited for her to tell them more.

  “There is a child, a baby boy. When he is born, you are to take him in, pose as a married couple and pretend he is yours. This will, of course, only reinforce your cover as mere Mortals and you shall be posted in a village in the South of France for the next eighteen years.”

  “A baby? You want us to take care of a child?” Marianne asked, clearly surprised.

  “As if he were yours, yes. Of course, it is a complex situation, and I have here your new identities.”

  “But what of our current mission?” inquired Charles, who was now biting his lip.

  “I see no reason why you cannot continue while raising a child. I know this is quite uncommon, especially for people like us, but you are my best option given the circumstances.”

  “Is he an Immortal?” Charles asked as he blew his nose in the noisiest way imaginable, placing the dirty hanky on the desk in front of him while he rummaged in his pockets.

  Elisabeth would have to ask Alfred to bring some disinfectant.

  “Oh no,” she continued, turning to Marianne as she tried to repress the urge to kill him, “he is so much more. Now. You must not get attached as he is to come to me when he is of age. This goes both ways, I do not wish him to… care for you, or even to like you if that is possible. You are to make his childhood miserable, thus facilitating his detachment from you both.”

  Elisabeth slid two of the folders towards her agents.

  “There is something else you must know. You are to protect him with your life, the oath you both took centuries ago applies to him, understood? He needs to be kept
safe at all costs. Victoria will pose as your mother, Marianne, under a different identity. I do not recall if you have ever met her but you will soon enough.”

  “Yes, we met her about six years ago, while securing Stonehenge during the battle of the Beanfield.”

  “Ah yes, I remember, you used the distraction to your advantage. Good, then if you have met her, you may be on your way. I shall let you know once it is time for you to come and collect the child. If you have any questions, if the boy shows any sign that he is anything more than a Mortal, you must tell Victoria immediately. She shall remain in contact with me, but you will be asked to stay away from the Academy until your mission is over. Charles, you will need to brush up on your French. And please throw that disgusting handkerchief in the bin on your way out. Any questions?”

  They both shook their heads, stood up and picked up their respective folders. Charles began apologising profusely, but Elisabeth put up her hand to stop him, pointing to the little waste paper basket by the lamp near the door. He obeyed immediately, and they left without further ado, tea and biscuits untouched.

  Elisabeth only started to relax when she heard the front gate of the Academy close. She didn't like it when too many Physicals were in the same place at the same time. She would have preferred a Mortal to take care of the boy, which is why she had called Victoria, but she still needed people with special powers to protect him, and Marianne and Charles were the best people for the job.

  It’s not as if I have much choice, anyway, she thought unhappily. I don’t have any other Physicals to spare, and we’re spread way too thin as it is already.

  Her two agents would just have to do, and besides, they were very good at blending in and passing off as Mortals. The less important his parents appeared to be, the more chance the boy would have at a normal, uneventful life.

  “I do hate it when tea goes to waste.”

  Elisabeth suddenly became acutely aware of Victoria sitting in the chair in front of her, where Charles had been only moments before.