by A D Tether
'Julian, what troubles you so' he croaked.
Julian hesitated he so much hated having to consult his leader who was nearing the end of his existence, but there was no other choice, and so with a heavy heart he related all that had happened over the past few days and that now poor George was suffering from a rare flu virus which maybe was contracted from the boy Peter, there seemed no other logical explanation.
Lord Albion listened to every word, in his minds eye he saw all the events that Julian had described roll out in front of him, his mind was made up, there was no other choice, he had to travel to Earth and give George his last breath, for without that breath all could be lost, he was the only one who could save the boy.
*
When a Grafflin leader reaches the end of his or her time they have one last gift that they can impart; it is the breath of life and healing. It requires the Grafflin leader to visit the ailing person on Earth and to breathe gently over their face, but this breath will be the Grafflin's dying breath, after which they will expire from their bodily form and will be turned into another bright light shining in the sky over Grafflin and Shenka. When this gift has been used many friends and family of the ailing person say that a miracle has happened and Doctors and Physicians have no logical explanation for their patients return to good health.
*
'Help me sit up' insisted Lord Albion, 'because I must go to George and we have to hurry.'
'But my Lord Albion I am afraid, what will become of you' cried Julian.
'I am near the end of my time, I am not afraid, it has to be done, now please help me get ready' replied Lord Albion.
Julian knew it was useless arguing, Lord Albion had made his mind up, and so with a reluctant heart he with the assistance of both Rupert and Bertie, gently eased their leader out of his bed and onto an armchair that sat under the large bay window that took up most of the bedroom's south facing wall.
'Now before we go, Rupert and Bertie you have been my most loyal servants over the past few Earth years, you have served Earth, Shenka and Grafflin without question, today we say goodbye, in my desk you will find a letter addressed to the Grafflin Grand Council, introducing you both as joint leaders of the place on Earth called Great Britain, you are my successors.'
Bertie was agitated, he didn't understand what he had done that was so remarkable that he would be chosen, Rupert was excited but also perplexed, why them and why not Julian, who surely was the rightful successor.
'My Lord Albion, I am sure I speak for Bertie too, but why us? we assumed that Mr Julian Speaksafe would succeed you' asked Rupert.
Lord Albion smiled, the pain of existing left his face which now glowed with love,
'Ah see Julian has a different path he must follow, it has been foretold, his future life is yet to be written.'
Julian looked embarrassed, he was still trying to figure out how his hearts desire would be reached, but he now knew that the woman by his side in the fresco was Marie, she was the only one who had ever made his heart skip a beat, he knew also that the older boy would be George and that the two small children at their feet were yet to be born, however all this depended on George becoming well again. And for that to happen his beloved Lord Albion was going to make an ultimate sacrifice, and he had no choice but to help.
*
George's bedroom was crowded, around his bed stood Lord Ralph and Julian, whilst Sydney stood in the doorway so he could watch Marie through her open door as she slept, but could also observe all that happening in George's room. Margaret Haywood and her Guardian Lionel watched from a wicker basket sofa from the corner of the room, as Lord Albion lay down beside George and breathed gently on the boy's face. George started to cough, he coughed that loud that it awoke Marie, who hurried from her bedroom to her son, just in time to see a bright light ascending to the ceiling where it hovered for a few short seconds, before skimming across the room and out of the open window. The light shot into the night sky and vanished behind the moon and was seen no more on the place called Earth, Lord Albion was now nothing more than a bright light in the heavenly sky that hung over Shenka and Grafflin.
George was sitting up, his face had regained a healthy pallor, the cough had cleared the virus from his body, Lord Albion's breath had given him a life force that was running through his veins, and his bones were no longer aching. Marie let out a little cry of fear, she pinched her arm sharply, this must be a lucid dream, this cannot be real, what was she seeing, it was all so real.
'Hello Mom, I feel so much better now' grinned George.
Marie stood still and looked hard, no the images had not vanished, there sitting on the side of George's bed was Julian, the most beautiful man she had ever seen, his black hair shone in the early morning light, his face glimmered of gold, his smile melted her heart. She was distracted for a minute or two and hadn't replied to George.
'Mom, are you okay, cos you didn't answer me' laughed George, 'Mom stop starring at Julian, you told me it was rude to stare' he added.
'Sorry George, oh look at you, it is like a little miracle that you have got well so quickly, we were rather worried about you last night, and er what did you say, who is Julian?'
Julian stood up, his hands were shaking and his heart was beating fast, at last Marie had used her eyes to see, he knew this was his only chance, he could make no mistakes. He took a step closer to Marie who was rooted on the spot, is this just a dream she thought, no it can't be, this has to be real. As he moved closer Marie smelt the wonderful perfume of sweet flowers, the smell she often thought imagined, the smell that always comforted her.
'Please do not be afraid, I am Julian Speaksafe, Marie can you see anyone else in the room, or only me and of course George and Margaret?'
Marie hesitated and looked around, Margaret was sitting on the basket sofa and next to her with his head buried in her lap was Lionel, his silver hair was tied back into a ponytail that reached down to his waist, he was wearing a strange kaftan type gown that was embedded with brightly coloured jewels, he was crying. Marie blinked, rubbed her eyes and looked again to see a tall dark haired man standing in front of the window, his brown eyes were overshadowed by thick eyebrows, his strong shoulders and mighty arms were not frightening but comforting and protective, Lord Ralph bowed and spoke in a honeyed tone,
'Lord Ralph at your service, so happy to meet you face to face at last.'
Standing next to Lord Ralph was Henderson, tall, slim and elegantly dressed,
'I am Henderson, and have been in your home since George was born, I think you may have heard us chatting to each other from time to time, so now you know that George was not talking to himself, but to me.'
Marie was confused, what was happening, could it be something that she had eaten that was causing these hallucinations.
'Mom, it is true you know, I've seen everyone forever, don't be scared, they are all our friends, and you have ignored Sydney, say hello to him' pleaded George.
'Sydney, who on earth is Sydney' quivered Marie.
'I am he' answered Sydney who had been standing a little way behind Marie, 'I am your Guardian, you have heard my voice many times in your head, I have tried my best to guide you and comfort you, I hope I have never failed you.'
Marie turned around, she knew that voice, it had been telling her the truth since before George was born, she had heard it speaking to her time after time, now she saw the owner of that sweet voice, a small slim being, silver haired and golden faced, wearing a gown similar to the man who sat crying in the corner with Margaret, who up until now had been silent.
'It is all true Marie' said Margaret, I have known Lionel since I was a little girl, and Julian for a little while, I knew about everyone here of course because George had told me, did you know he can remember everything you ever told him, even when he was a little baby, and that he has always been able to see everyone's Guardians, yes Marie Guardians, here to look out for us if we only listen.'
Marie slumped down on George'
s bed and stroked his hair,
'I am so very happy that you are feeling better George, but all of this is so hard for me to take in, just give me a few moments will you.'
'Of course Mom, just wait till you meet Belle you will love her, she is from Shenka the same as Henderson, and looks out for Joni, oh and then there is Denis who is Pete's Guardian, oh and remember Miss Vincent from school, well her Guardian is a lady, her name is Geena, she's very pretty and..' George yawned, 'and well then' he yawned again, then fell asleep.
Margaret stood up and stretched her large arms above her head,
'I think a cup of tea is called for, I'll go and put the kettle on.'
'I could do with something stronger, put a dash of whisky in mine please' replied Marie.
'Now that sounds like an excellent idea, be back soon, come on Lionel you can chat to Ohme while I brew up' laughed Margaret.
Marie sat on the corner of George's bed and briefly closed her eyes, the room was silent and for a brief second Marie thought maybe it had been a dream after all, but when her eyelids flashed open she could see it was no dream, Lord Ralph, Julian, Sydney and Henderson were still there, but she was no longer afraid, she felt stronger.
Margaret returned with the whisky laced tea but before Marie had chance to sip it's sweet flavour the telephone rang, her heart fell into her stomach, she was afraid again, she knew that her Grandfather's time had come.
*
George Dale's funeral service was held at Lembury's Baptist Chapel, the same Chapel that he had attended when he was living with the Craven family as an evacuee; on returning to Lembury when Marie was twelve he and Marie's Grandmother were regular attendees. Marie like most typical teenagers stayed away, apart from Christmas, Easter, Harvest Festivals and the Sunday School Anniversary, but she still held fond memories in her heart of the welcoming atmosphere and knew that this is where her beloved Grandfather, like her Grandmother before him would want to be commemorated.
Marie sat in the front row of wooden seats alongside George, Joni, Pete and Margaret, behind her she could hear the shuffling of feet and whispered voices as the chapel gradually filled up. She had decided to have her Grandfather buried at the local cemetery before the service, with just the closest of friends with her, now that she had survived the burial she had one last hurdle to overcome, the remembrance service followed by a simple lunch for the congregation in the Sunday School classroom. Please give me the strength she prayed; then she smelt the familiar fragrance of Julian, he was there beside her, sheltering her, standing next to her, she mouthed the words of thanks to him, 'I'm right beside you' Julian mouthed back, he would protect her and she needed him as much as he yearned for her.
The service began, Mr Parkes the Minister asked everyone to stand to sing the first hymn which he was told was George's favourite hymn, 'Lead us heavenly Father lead us' voices rang out, Marie was uplifted by the singing, she had remembered other funeral and wedding services she had previously attended where the congregation had almost whispered the hymns, but today was different, she relaxed. Within half an hour the service had ended, all that there was left to do now was to survive the buffet lunch that had been prepared earlier by the the senior members of the Church youth group.
*
Marie sat at a table in the Sunday School classroom, she had hardly touched the food on her plate, her stomach was knotted, so many people had made their way to her to offer their condolences, people who were strangers to her, but friends of her Grandparents. Now she sat alone, Joni and George were in deep conversation with the Minister, Pete had gone outside for a smoke, Margaret was mingling and Julian was busy taking notes of everything he observed. The lights of all the Grafflin guardian's hovered a few inches below the cream coloured painted ceiling, Belle and Henderson were seated close by Joni and George, Lord Ralph and the Lady Veronica had returned to Shenka; for their land was in mourning for their great friend and ally Lord Albion Brightly.
*
'What if someone dies but their body is lost, do they still go to Heaven' Joni asked the Minister.
The Minister took his time in answering the profound question from such a young child,
'What do you mean by someone's body being lost' he asked gently.
'Well say, what if a soldier in a war is blown up and he has no body, does he still go to Heaven' she urged.
'I am sure he does, if he has been good of course' he smiled.
'But how do the the Passers who take dead people to Heaven find him' questioned George.
'I think you mean Angels, how do the Angels find him, well it is a man's soul that they take to Heaven, so really the body itself doesn't matter' the Minister replied.
'Mmm so what does 'lost souls' mean then' said Joni 'cos I have heard grown ups saying someone is a lost soul, so how do they go to Heaven'
The Minister fidgeted, he felt out of his depth, he didn't want to discourage the children's questions, but he was at a loss on how to answer them.
'Maybe it just takes the Angels a little longer to find them' he answered.
'And would they be sad then, the dead people waiting for the Angels to find them' Joni again questioned.
'Miss Vincent's uncle was lost in the war, do you think the Passers found him' asked George.
The Minister scratched his head, he wondered why George was still using the word Passers, he was loathe to question him though, as the lad was still recovering from a terrible flu virus.
'I should think so George, nobody is lost forever, I am sure of that' he replied in a comforting voice.
'But how do you know for sure' questioned George
'Yes because Peter was lost and ..' Joni stopped in mid speech as George kicked her gently on her leg, she had again gone too far, but it was hard for her to know when to simply keep quiet.
'Come on Joni, I need to go and see if Mom is alright, she has been sitting on her own for ages' urged George.
'Okay' grinned Joni.
'Off you go then, be good now, lovely meeting you' said the Minister with a wry smile and as the children left his side he breathed a sigh of relief, but their words rang in his head, he did not have the answers for everything, although his congregation often thought he did.
'Poor man, he looks most perplexed' sighed Belle.
'That's Joni and George for you' grinned Henderson, 'still despite what many may think the Minister is only human after all.'
*
Pete stood outside and took a drag on his cigarette, standing a few feet away was Louise Vincent, the smoke from Pete's cigarette floated past her eyes, she turned, caught Pete's eye and smiled.
'Bad habit I know' Pete laughed.
'I've just put one out myself.' she smiled.
Pete strolled up over to Louise and continued smoking,
'Were you at the service Miss Vincent, sorry but I didn't see you'
'Louise, please call me Louise, Miss Vincent makes me feel very old'
'And I am Pete.'
'Can I ask you a favour Pete, see I have found some old photo's and notes of my mother's that I think Mrs Rose would like, but I am a bit nervous of just walking up to her on my own, and I know that you are both very close to each other, partners I guess, do you think she would mind, I don't want to cause you any trouble though, so if you tell me to leave it for another day I don't mind honest, or if you think it would be best if you gave them to her rather than me, I..'
Pete held up his hands,
'Hey slow down a bit, maybe I should explain that Marie and I are really good friends, but that is all, there is now and never will be anything else between us, we are more like best buddies, brother and sister, and as for your late Mother's photo's I know that Marie would love to see them, come on let's go now.'
'Can I have another smoke first, do you mind' asked Louise.
'Why not, I'll join you, didn't even taste that last one', replied Pete.
Geena flitted over to Denis, 'I have a strange feeling that you and I are going to b
e seeing a lot of each other from now on' she giggled.
'I do hope so Geena, poor Pete has been waiting a long time for a good woman in his life, little Joni would be so happy' smiled Denis.
'Then we have to make it so, right come on they are going back inside.'
*
Marie sat on the floor of her living room, spread out in front of her were old black and white photographs of her Grandfather, taken when he was evacuated to Lembury. George was sleeping upstairs, the day had worn him out, but at least he had started to get his appetite back and was on a slow return to recovery. Joni sat next to Marie looking through the snap shots, she gasped when she saw a photo of Peter, looking so happy sitting atop a haystack,
'He drowned' she announced.
'Who drowned' asked Pete.
'Him' she said passing the photograph to her father, 'Peter, he drowned, but it was a long time ago, let me think, yes I remember now, it was 1948 and he drowned in the sea, it was the seaside that we went to.
'Joni, I don't know where you get it all from, you have to stop making things up' Pete replied crossly.
'I'm not making things up, it's true' Joni began to cry, 'you never believe anything I say.'
'Oh my' gasped Louise who had been trawling through a stack of newspaper cuttings that her mother had kept in a brown envelope stored in the same box.
'Look Pete, just look' she said as she handed him a cutting that was yellowing with age.
Pete's hand shook as he read the article, he shot a glance at his little daughter, how could she have known, it didn't make sense.
'What does it say' enquired Margaret.
'Er, I.. can you read it out for me please, just to make sure we are not all going completely mad' he said as he passed the article over the top of Joni's head to Margaret, who was sitting in her favourite armchair in Marie's living room.
Margaret reached for her reading glasses that were lying on top of her handbag, and once her eyes had adjusted to reading the small print she began to read.
'The Lembury News, 28th June 1948'
Last Friday on 25th June at the age of ten young Peter Rawlings was drowned whilst playing in the sea off the Welsh Coast. Peter spent two years in Lembury during the War, arriving here as an evacuee in 1943, he stayed with Mr and Mrs Craven of East Street, whose son Kenneth was lost assumed dead, another casualty of the terrible events in Europe. During the war Peter's parents were commended for their war efforts, Mr Rawlings ran an engineering company that had given up it's production of motor car parts to produce fitments for tanks and Mrs Rawlings worked within the Ministry of Defence. They had no other children.'