DRAGONJULS Storybook
~ Define Destiny ~
 by Dragonjuls
Part Nineteen
© 1999 by J M Dragon
e-mail: jmdragon1@hotmail.com


Disclaimer and Acknowledgements: See Part One


Part 19

Chapter Thirty-nine

Grace had often wondered what it must be like to own a property as large as 'Destiny' with its constant changes with the seasons, and the comings and goings of personnel; not to mention the needs of the numerous smallholders affiliated with them property. She had her wish!

Three months after Catherine had left, not only did she have her housekeeping tasks, but also was the only 'care taking parent' in residence and she had her hands more than full!

Thank god Colin had taken over the running of everything associated with the ranch that Catherine had looked after. He had taken it onboard without a word and didn't complain when he spent hours in the evening going over bills and forms, which kept turning up for processing. Fortunately for them, money wasn't an issue, and even if Paul Strong hadn't made deposits every month into a ranch account with her and Colin's as coassignee's, the ranch finances were viable in their own right.

Grace knew Colin watched her in the evening with the children as they settled down to read or watch TV in a companionable atmosphere. He would have a secret smile that she was sure he only ever used when he watched her with Lisa tucked into her lap in the evening. He hadn't asked her on a date since she arrived back after her father's death and she had felt relieved but disappointed also; it didn't always make sense to her these days, life in general wasn't making much sense.

Catherine called twice a week. During the working week she talked with Grace and Colin but on a Sunday evening she would call and the intercom system in the study would be used so that the children could participate in the chat sessions. The children knew she had to be away but they sorely missed her, and the chat sessions she had been persuaded to participate in after a particularly long session with Grace had cheered them all up. Now, it was a weekly ritual and Catherine had never, ever let them down. At precisely seven p.m. she would call and they would all be seated with a hot drink and cookies. It was as if Catherine was in the room with them instead of her small lonely apartment in Rio several thousand miles away.

Grace watched the weather front changing, spring was about to come their way; she was pleased about that at least. Maybe Catherine could come home soon; she was certainly missed.

A pity the New Zealand authorities had been zealous over taking her visa away. One of the things Grace admired about her country was its open-minded approach. Catherine had been doing the diplomatic backslapping for the last three months and was getting close to having her visa returned in some form or other. Fortunately the children had been left well alone; she and the Reverend had worked on that particular problem together. That had been the easy part, no one wanted to lose the sort of financial backing Lucas's trust fund provided and Grace had threatened that in a formidable fashion. Catherine had lost enough her prized privacy had been invaded; Grace doubted that Catherine would ever live a life now without the odd camera or two trailing after her.

Looking at the clock in the kitchen and quickly collecting her tray of goodies for their get together. Smiling at the thought of Catherine so far away and wondered if she had a mug of tea in hand at this very minute. It was something she was going to ask her friend when they spoke it would give them a sense of togetherness and family, even if only for the length of the phone call.

The children would be watching a cartoon, waiting patiently for the hour to flick to seven.

**********

Catherine walked the two-mile stretch that she'd know in her sleep! In fact it helped her sleep, miracle of all miracles. Except tonight she went out earlier than usual, it was Sunday and the family phone call was only an hour away. She loved that feeling of contact with her 'adopted' family, and hopefully she would gain her visa back from the New Zealand authorities next week, although it would only have temporary status.

There was a mix of rich and poor in the area she walked, typical of Rio in many ways truth be told she didn't particularly like the place, because of it's poverty traps but she had few choices at the moment.

She walked in the poorer area not exactly slum accommodation, but in a few years it would turn into that situation and probablyworse. Catherine had run in.'s with the local punks in those first few days she'd walked this route, allocating a few busted noses and a couple of broken arms in her wake had stopped that harassment. The punks gave her a wide berth.

She smelt the burning of wood before it came into her line of vision. A small two storey house, although to her eyes it looked nothing more than a shack virtually all wood burning in the twilight of the evening. If it hadn't been so tragic it was a glorious sight of colours against the backdrop of the early evening skies. People were milling around, no one seemed to be interested in the screams that she heard echo from the burning building.

Running closer to the scene she caught hold of the arm of an onlooker.

"What the hell is going on here? Have you called the fire department? How many are still inside the building?" Catherine bit out in a staccato voice, bellowing the last comment into his ear.

The man looked at her with little interest or was it understanding; yeah the guy probably couldn't speak English. Damn!

Catherine gave the scene one more cursory glance, and galvanised her body into action. "Is this my destiny?" the unconscious thought drifted through her mind, her voice lost in the smoky night air and propelled herself into the burning building.

If someone had mentioned that this particular event would be unfolding and she would be in the thick of it, she would have laughed out loud at them and called them ridiculous. Yet! Here she was, her eyes stinging from the smoke and choking on its intensity, could that be plastic burning? Acrid smoke filling her lungs at every breath she managed to take.

"Hello? Anyone here, come on give me a shout?" Coughing into her sweatshirt sleeve, she finally caught a muted cry for help.  That was universal in any language at least.

Entering the room to her left she saw flames panning to her right and a figure huddled in shock to her left. A woman sat against a grimy paint-peeling wall, cradling a bundle to her chest. "Okay, I'm here." Catherine managed to say noticing the speed at which the flames were engulfing the room she had to be quick. Knocking over any furniture in her way she made a path towards the woman, kneeling down she touched the woman on her shoulder, and saw agonised brown eyes looking at her in trust. Seemed to happen to her a lot that expression, must be something to do with the eyes. A smile slowly crept across her lips and she pulled the woman up gently to stand beside her. The woman clutched at her hand as the flames suddenly shot out in their direction.

"Easy there, you're going to get out okay." Catherine glanced across to the bundle held tightly to the woman's chest, it wasn't moving or appeared to be breathing, but it was difficult to tell with all the smoke. Now wasn't the time to ponder that particular question, it would have to wait, they needed to get out fast!

Dragging the woman in her wake, Catherine propelled her out of the room managing to skirt the fireball quickly devouring the room. The external door was open and she pushed the woman out into the open, relishing the opportunity of breathing air not polluted by the smoke from the fire.

Sirens were getting closer, 'Good!'

Then as she managed a gasp of fresh air; that is, if you could call any air in Rio fresh. A child's scream pierced the night chilling in its intensity and fear. Catherine looked to the other woman in question, who was being enclosed in a blanket and the bundle being tenderly extracted from her shocked hands by a neighbour.

The young woman she had saved looked at her beseechingly "Carlos," came the strangled response as the woman fainted from her ordeal.

Time was running out!

Catherine ran back into the building as if the furies were chasing her. She noticed the hall had become almost black in the thickness of the smoke and by the clouds hanging in the air on the next level the stairs looked pretty risky.

In for a penny in for a pound!

'Hell what's a little risk between friends?' her mind supplied as she fought the laboured breathing. Taking the stairs two at a time, she pushed open the first door she came to. Nothing! Well, except for a wall of fire that she was damn sure had singed her eyebrows off 'Damn'.

Then the next room came into view, as much view as she could manage with the smoke progressing at an alarming rate through the house her own body producing tears to clear her eyes naturally. She pulled the door open a little more cautiously this time.

The boy sat in a corner of the room close to the window, although it was closed. He couldn't have been more than five years old, clutching a blanket that had seen better days.

"Hi Carlos?" she gave him a dazzling smile, hoping he could see it through the streaks of dirt and smoke she knew covered her face. "I need you to trust me Carlos, we need to get out fast, okay?" Not sure if he understood her she picked him up in one swift movement and held him against her shoulder.

As if on cue an explosion rocked the floor of the room and reverberated around the building as one of the walls collapsed, engulfing the room in black smoke the flames that had otherwise been kept out of the room, now trailed dangerously close to them cutting off the door. 'Well, that way's out of the question, only one exit left,' opening the window, she shouted at one of the newly arrived firemen, her voice hoarse from the smoke.

"Get the boy!' glancing at him and smiling "How do you feel about flying Carlos?" with that she threw the child out of the window and crossed whatever you crossed in this situation.

Continuing to look out of the window and wondering whom the hell was or what would catch her, she didn't notice that a wooden beam from the roof had cracked through the thin ceiling and as if in slow motion headed towards her. Catherine's senses picked up something being horribly wrong just as the beam hit her on the left side, cracking her head and shoulder, the fire catching her hair and clothes. Finally the momentum of the object was propelling her out of the window.

Her last thought as the pain engulfed her and darkness beckoned. 'Why Jace? Why did you marry him?'

It was suddenly mercifully dark.

**********

Three months had seen changes in Jace Bardley's lifestyle that wouldn't have been expected. To all intents and purposes she was now a happily married woman.

Peter Adamson, rescuing her at the eleventh hour had thwarted Hudson's threats. He had been as good as his word and had married her the following day to defeat the malicious machinations of Hudson.

Her mind in turmoil and distress Jace agreed to his suggestion and married him. All avenues to Catherine had been closed to her. Peter was a perceived lifeline; Jace caught it and made one of the biggest mistakes in her life.

Her family hadn't understood the reason for her marriage in haste, not when she'd been so adamant about her feelings for Catherine Warriorson. This wasn't the daughter they had watched grow from a baby into a mature adult, the woman saying her vows to this virtual stranger was an enigma to them. Consequently, Jace had not been home since the wedding.

The wedding was a sham at first; Peter was her friend and doing her a favour. Although eventually after six weeks and too much alcohol at a party they had been to, she finally allowed him to her bed. It was the beginning of the end.

Her independent mind finally reasserting itself after being locked up for weeks in a living hell Jace had permitted to happen.  Now they spent whatever times together in a sense of impending disaster, neither wanting to broach the subject that would finish their marriage.

James Thompson had invited them to a party that evening and both wanted to go. Peter would be going to Europe to film a documentary in a week's time; they had argued frequently over Jace's refusal to go with him.

"I have a career of my own Peter. I can't just up and leave it for a year to watch you film," Jace was adamant.

"You're my wife Jace, surely you want to be with me? I'm going to be gone for a year, maybe more if the backers want to do a series," he pleaded with her.

"I can't," her voice almost broke.

"You can't or you won't?" his voice held a hint of sarcasm.

"Does it matter?" Jace's voice had grown tired of this particular conversation.

"Yes!" Peter angrily spat the word out.

"Then I won't!" She gave him a weary look.

"Is it because of her?" Peter was pushing into territory they had agreed never to discuss.

Jace eyed him with a sad lost look.

"Yes! She might come back one day."

Her admission was breaking Peter's heart. "For god's sake Jace, you left her remember? She's not coming back! Hudson did the works on her; Devonshire's never going to show her pretty face in this town again, maybe not even the country!" Peter spoke to Jace as if reprimanding a child for taking a cookie out of the jar before supper.

Jace knew deep down what he said was probably correct; she knew that she hurt him deeply by her continued obsession with Catherine. The feeling never went away it; and she knew that it never ever would. When she'd told Catherine she had waited forever, well that was right and forever was still along way off! "Peter?" he looked at her strengthening gaze.

"Yeah?" He saw her green eyes reflect seriously back at him.

"I think we need to discuss our future," Jace had finally made up her mind to end this charade.

"No!" his voice sounded like he was suffering acute pain.

Jace watched the sadness take over as he finally continued in anguish.

"I love you Jace. If staying here is what you need to do then you go ahead and do it! But I don't want you to leave me!" He had tears settling in the corner of his eyes.

Her heart broke for the man in front of her, he had done nothing in her eyes except give her his love, and here she was throwing it back in his face. Compassionately she held his head to her shoulder. "Okay Peter we'll try to work it out." She whispered her own tears falling silently down her cheeks. 'Though god's knows how?' her mind slipped in for good measure.

**********

The party was in full swing when they finally arrived at the house. James was without doubt an accomplished host. The parties he threw were usually large affairs with lots of people milling in and out all evening, tonight was no different.

Some colleagues had tackled Peter over his new project and he was talking to them intently.

Jace was leaning against a far wall watching a tall-distinguished man talking politely to a young girl dressed in knee high boots, a skirt that just about reached the top of her thighs and a ribbed purple blouse, leaving little to the imagination.

"You know he doesn't bite. Well, girls anyway," James chuckled as he handed her a glass of white wine.

"I know, but to be honest, I haven't seen him since....." she trailed off, her face clearly expressing the hurt behind the memory of that last encounter.

"Yep, I know,' giving her a long look. "Come on let's rescue him."

"Oh, I don't think so James, I hardly think I'm on his list of favourite guests, he's Catherine's friend." Jace tugged against the firm hold of her friend's hand.

"Don't chicken out on this Jace, he might have news!" Jace knew that would be her un-doing, any news however insignificant would be welcome to her starved soul.

Walking over, James tapped his partner's shoulder; who then turned to see who wanted him; Paul Strong gave James a smile of pleasure replacing the polite boredom in his eyes. Then his eyes strayed to Jace who was fidgeting nervously at James' side.  They took on a quizzical look.

"Hello Jace." Paul said quietly, James skilfully steered his partner towards the younger woman who was more appreciative of his presence than the individuals he had been conversing previously.

"Hello Paul, how are you?" Not knowing what else to say to him.

"I'm very well. And you?" he looked directly at her with a pointed glance.

"Pretty good." They both lapsed into silence for several seconds.

"I see marriage appears to agree with you?"

Jace winced at the comment. "Peter is good to me. What more can I say?" her eyes sought out a reaction, but what reaction?

"Nothing more I guess. I heard from James that you left UCP, we're sorry to have lost you," Paul sounded genuine in his platitude.

"Yeah, I went back to my first love publishing. Ironic wouldn't you say?" she laughed hollowly.

"If that's what you find suits your talents where's the irony in that?" he continued to keenly appraise her.

"I have a post proof-reading for a small publisher in Santa Monica." Jace for the first time since he'd seen her arrive actually looked interested in something. He had noticed her quiet observation of him from her position at the far end of the room.

"Sounds like you enjoy it?" He saw now why his boss had been captivated; her eyes alone snared you in when they became animated.

"I do! I also get a chance to work on my writing. I kind of stopped for a while, now I'm ready to start again," Jace timidly explained.

"I hope you succeed. If you ever need work please call me," he said sincerely.

"Thanks. Are you saying that for my professionalism or because of my ex-relationship with Catherine?" There she had succumbed to her desire she'd mentioned Catherine by name, it tasted so good on her lips to say the name openly again.

Paul looked seriously at her and smiled. "Your professionalism of course. Catherine no longer runs any of the Xianthos operations, she has no direct influence on any decisions made by the company."

"Thank you!' She needed to know, "how is she?" a whispered plea.

"Last time I saw her she was tired but okay." He finally responded after a long drink from his beer.

"When was that?" her heart rate tripled in anticipation of his answer.

"The last day you saw her in LA." He saw her look of confusion.

"I guess I should have known, you're not going to tell me anything! I hurt her I know, and believe me if I could take it all back I would." her voice choked out.

"I told you the truth Jace, the last time I saw her was the same day you did." Was he going to answer her question? Sure he was. "You hurt her that day sure, but you're marriage hurt her more." It wasn't an accusation just a statement.

"She knows?" Jace looked startled.

"Yes," he said quietly.

"I......I didn't do that to hurt her! It was other circumstances," Jace tried to find the words.

"She got the message anyway." he enigmatically replied.

"That would be?" Jace needed to know how much more damage she had inflicted on the woman she loved.

"You didn't love her," Paul offered quietly.

"Oh god Paul," with that Peter sauntered across and put an arm about his wife.

"Strong, nice to see you again," his tone belied the sentiment in the words.

"Adamson," he nodded his head. James took the opportunity at that moment to interrupt saying Paul had an urgent call. He left them with a polite nod of his head.

James and Peter began a conversation that partially excluded her.

'She thinks I don't love her? Hades, that couldn't be further from the truth!' she watched Paul Strong take his call and noticed a shocked expression pass over his face, which he masked quickly as he scanned the room for James. Putting down the receiver he quickly went over to his partner and spoke a few quiet words to him and then quickly disappeared up the stairs.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

"James are you okay?" she asked in concern.

He looked at her with an almost vacant expression his mind obviously elsewhere. "Jace......yeah I'm fine. Someone we know has had an accident, Paul has to leave. Jace maybe......" he trailed off as he noticed his lover emerge from a room and descend the stairs.

Jace watched looks pass between the two men and Paul looked in her direction briefly, she could have sworn that he was about to say something, when Peter hauled her off to talk to some friends.

When she turned again, Paul Strong had departed and James was engaged in being the genial party host.

**********

Chapter Forty

Enricho Garcia paced the floor of the hospital critical area. He had been called three hours after Catherine had been in surgery.  It had taken the police that long to trace her apartment and find out a contact. Once he'd been informed he contacted Paul Strong, his boss, he needed to know what was happening; now three hours later, he was still waiting for news of her condition.

He'd eventually found out that she was some kind of heroine; her bravery in going into a blazing house not once but twice for people she didn't know in this city was unheard of, especially by a European woman too!

The mother and the young boy had only superficial burns and smoke inhalation, the baby had died from the smoke inhalation in his mother's arms before Catherine had turned up. Garcia felt proud of Catherine as if she was a relative.

He'd invited Catherine to his home on several occasions in the past three months some she accepted, many she hadn't. His wife Angelica was always happy to see her, they had a small daughter who was just learning to walk and the tall stranger was a great climbing frame. He felt that Catherine had some peace on those days that she never appeared to have at any other times. He  had read the press about her but, she wasn't the person that was depicted in those tabloids, no she was stronger than the weak person they portrayed to him, she was quite simply incredible!

Paul Strong was on his way and would arrive in approximately four hours hopefully he would have good news for his boss. He knew that Catherine and Paul were friends and it would be a shock to him if anything happened to her. But God didn't do that to Hero's did he?  It was a question he constantly asked himself for the next three hours waiting alone in a white walled room with little to occupy him but his own mixed up thoughts.

The door opened as the early morning light seeped through the windows of the waiting room. Stirring from the chair stiffly, he was motioned to sit again by the doctor who sat opposite him.

"Are you a relative?" the doctor asked in a quite voice.

"No, no she doesn't have any relatives in Rio, in fact I don't think she has any living relatives, I work for her." Garcia hurriedly tried to explain.

"I see," he pondered the facts.

"Her friend Paul Strong is due here anytime, he's a business colleague but also a close friend, will that help?" Enricho suggested.

"It is of no consequence. Her injuries are, as you know severe. She has multiple burns to the body particularly on her head. She has a broken shoulder and her head suffered a trauma that cracked her skull in two places. We will wait to see if she regains consciousness before we can evaluate that correctly." The doctor patiently explained.

"What! If? She regains consciousness, what does that mean? Is she in danger?" He asked shocked.

"Well, her injuries are severe as I told you. The shock alone when she wakes will determine if she can overcome the burns.  Then we have to know what the head injury has caused, she is very lucky to be alive. When she wakes she may not want to live, that is always the threat with this kind of trauma, she is a mess. She was a beautiful woman," he stated clinically.

"No! No, she's still a beautiful woman she will fight it, she will live!" He spoke positively.

"You sound so sure?" The doctor looked surprised but pleasantly so.

"She's beaten worse in her life, this episode will not defeat her," he smiled weakly at the doctor.

"Good. She will need constant care for many months, is she in a position to fund that kind of care?"

Garcia snorted. "Oh my, yes!"

"Excellent, when her friend arrives I will talk to you both in detail about her injuries, in the mean time you may see her if you wish," he got up to leave.

Garcia walked with the doctor to the private emergency room and Catherine Devonshire's very still form; nothing to do but wait.

**********

Paul arrived at the hospital at nine a.m. three hours later than he had expected, weather turbulence attributed to the delay of the flight for over two hours. Walking into the reception area he waited impatiently for the receptionist to complete her phone call and talk to him. Drumming his fingers on the desktop, he finally caught her eye.

Smiling falsely at him she asked him whom he needed to see.

"Catherine Devon....., no Catherine Smithson, which room is she in?" he asked shortly, the plane journey taking it's toll along with the worry over his boss.

"Smithson, no Smithson, ah wait a moment. Smithson yes, she's in room two hundred, the critical wing." With that he headed for the elevator without even saying thank you. He would apologise later.

The time seemed to go slowly in the elevator as he thought about Catherine and what state she was in, if she indeed she had managed to survive! 'I almost told her Catherine. I nearly broke my promise to you and told Jace you were hurt. You know I wanted too, but maybe it really is too late for you two after all,' his mind ceased those thoughts as the door opened to the critical wing and he headed for room two hundred.

Walking into the room he saw Garcia slumped in the chair, he had obviously been here for hours, the man was another devotee of the Devonshire charm that was for sure. He'd heard from other VP's that Garcia extolled the virtues of the owner of Xianthos. Some thought him pathetic, others viewed it as hero worship, but Paul saw it as a genuine friendship in the making, even Catherine had been charmed to some extent by the man who offered her hospitality without any catches, particularly after all the media attention around her. Not wanting to disturb him he looked at the person in the hospital bed.

Wires were hooked up everywhere or so it appeared to him, he noticed that her head was swathed in bandages and her nose looked broken, what did he know? Traction equipment was stationed close to the bed as the body was elevated slightly due to some other injury, he couldn't quite perceive was it a broken arm? All you could really see amidst the bandages were the eyelids and they looked swollen and her eyebrows, those formidable eyebrows were gone. He walked slowly over to the bed and wanting to take one of her hands, noticed that the left side of her body was encased in bandages but her right side was relatively unscathed. Reaching for her right hand he sat down next to the bed and just held it, waiting for Garcia to wake, and in about twelve hours Grace would be here too!

**********

He'd rung Grace as he waited for his flight, which had been a difficult call to make.

The phone ringing in the study at seven thirty had all the interested parties finally smiling they had been worried. Grace picked up the line and turned on the intercom.

"Grace?" the voice of a man at first Grace didn't recognise.

"Guess it's not Catherine then?" Grace said flippantly.

"No, no Catherine is.......she's been. Hey Grace are we on intercom?" Paul decided it wouldn't be good to have witnesses to what he had to say, which would be up to Grace to decide who at the ranch would get to know about Catherine's condition.

"Yeah, the kids and I are waiting for Catherine's usual call to us, she's late." Grace smiled at having to tell Catherine that Paul might be the one keeping her waiting for a free line.

"Can I speak to you for a few minutes, without the intercom?" he asked her gently.

Grace wasn't stupid, she could hear the change in timbre of his voice, something was very wrong! "Hey kids, why don't you go and see what's on TV for a little while and I'll be with you soon okay?"

"But Grace, Catherine might call?" Lisa said plaintively.

"Hey sweetheart it's okay, Catherine will ring back, and you know that!" Grace smiled at her.

"Okay, but don't be too long," the child said petulantly.

Jake stood up not saying a word and took Lisa's hand they shut the door behind them.

"Okay Paul, it's just you and me, what's she done now?" Grace said in an exasperated way.

"She's in the hospital in Rio," he finally said.

The silence stretched, Paul didn't know if she was still there, Grace was upset, he'd heard the sob in her voice. "What happened?" Grace finally whispered.

"Not sure, Garcia said she was some kind of heroine, he didn't say much. She's in the operating room now. I have a flight in about half an hour, will get there in about three hours time. Do you want to wait until I find out the score, or are you going to get a flight out?"

"I'm on the next flight out of here, she might never know but I want to be there if........I want to be there!" she finally said brokenly.

"You know her Grace, she never let's go," he tried to sound confident but failed miserably.

"Yeah. See you in about a day Paul. Give her a kiss from us okay," with that she put the phone down and called Colin.

Now looking at the almost obscured face of his friend, how did he do that, kiss her and not hurt her. He picked up her right hand and gently kissed each knuckle. 'For all of us Catherine, we're here waiting for you, don't forget that!'

**********

The doctor had been kind, in his own way. Garcia had returned home and back to business, it wasn't the time to tell anyone about this yet! It may never be the time.

Paul had cancelled the rest of the week's schedule, explaining he had a virus and he wasn't capable of travelling, he was the man in charge after all.

Grace had arrived and wouldn't move from Catherine's bedside.

Now, three days after the event, Catherine was finally stirring from her unconscious state. Grace was smiling, Paul still looked pensive, the doctor looked on in interest.

"Come on Catherine, how about you show us those ice blues, some time soon, well like right now." Grace said gently, stroking the uninjured right hand slowly.

Gradually one lid opened briefly but slid shut as fast as it opened. A few minutes later after much coaxing, her right eyelid opened and the ice blue of her eyes looked ahead.

Grace looked at the doctor as she noticed that Catherine didn't seem to be responding to the light, there was no stimulation at all.

The doctor used a penlight to flash in the eye and it didn't move he sighed heavily. "Catherine, how about you open the left eye, just for me?"

Catherine tried to move and was prevented by traction equipment on her abused body. "Who the hell are you?" her voice cracked with its enforced disuse although her tone, clearly the Catherine they all knew.

Paul couldn't help the smile that crossed his face and Grace snorted and laughed softly.

"Guess you vocal cords are going to be okay at least.' the doctor stated un-necessarily. "I'm your doctor, Doctor Assanti."

Her left eye opened reluctantly. "It hurts like hell to open this one," she exclaimed.

The doctor gave it the same examination and he reluctantly nodded his head in resignation.

"Haven't you paid the bills around here, why are all the lights off in this place?" Catherine finally asked the question the others had dreaded, after seeing the doctor's expression.

The doctor looked at the other people in the room, Paul looked to Grace. She reluctantly looked at the doctor and he gave her a reassuring look.

"Have you all gone deaf too? Grace?" It was tentative and held for the first time a hint of fear.

"No, no Catherine I'm here. It appears that the blow to your head has caused some problem with your vision." Grace pointed out as tactfully as possible in the circumstances.

Catherine turned her head in the direction of the voice of her friend, "Grace, are you telling me I'm blind?"

Grace pursed her lips in thought. "Yeah, in a nutshell, that's exactly right, teach you to be a hero won't it." Grace tried a touch of levity.

Catherine knew that Grace being funny at this point meant that it wasn't good. So what the hell else was wrong?  "Okay, give me the bottom line and a drink too?"

"Doctor?" Grace passed the problem over to him, he knew all the facts, although she snagged a paper cup of water and gently administered a few drops to her friend.

Clearing his voice Doctor Assanti explained the injuries. "Well, it appears that you have suffered blindness that could be temporary, we will have to run tests. You will need months of therapy for your shoulder; it was broken in several places. You will also need skin grafts on your face and left side of your body. That will take maybe the best part of a year to complete. Your hair will eventually grow again as will your eyebrows," he clinically stated.

"Oh, so effectively I look a bloody mess?" She eventually said in a tone that bordered on indifference.

"Yes, but it could all be normal in about a year." The doctor finished.

"Perhaps but the eyes might never recover, right?" Catherine dogmatically continued.

"I cannot say at this point, we need to run tests." he smiled at the others in the room.

"Well, you better get a bloody move on then and sort out those tests, do you think I'm going to stay here forever?" Catherine muttered, her voice gaining strength.

The doctor laughed out loud at the European woman who had indeed more strength of character than he had seen in many years; her injuries without the blindness would have finished many off. This woman was beautiful. But her beauty also transcended the flesh; she had a strength within that no one could deflate. Her other friend had been right, she would fight, and she wasn't finished yet!

"Right away, how does this afternoon sound for the first one?" he asked her, noticing she was tiring.

"Good." She gradually closed both her eyes and mumbled, "Are the children okay Grace, you haven't left them to fend for themselves have you?" Grace heard the old sarcastic humour return in her friend's comment.

"Would I do a thing like that Catherine?" She replied innocently.

"Mmmmm, smart thinking Grace, or you might be looking for another position in life." Her hand clutched at Grace's as a spasm of pain went through her left temple.

Smiling at her friend's unexpected banter, she pressed the hand back in comfort. "Paul is here," Grace said softly.

Paul moved away from the wall he'd been leaning against. Moving close to the bed, "Hi Catherine."

"Hi Paul, so what's with you taking time off to see this wreck?" Paul had to wince at the statement, for how right she was at this moment in time.

"Oh, you know me always was a little nosy," he laughed softly.

"Glad to hear it. How's James?" She asked sleepily.

"He's fine, sends his love." Paul grinned at her attitude; it had been difficult to gauge how she would react when she woke for the first time after the accident.

"Well, I guess one day I will get to meet him, but maybe we will take a rain check for the moment okay?" Catherine frowned as if she tried to recall a memory and it refused to appear.

"Sure, whenever you want. Jace is fine also." He couldn't help it; if she had changed her mind he would do something about it and quickly.

"You've seen her recently?" It was a whisper. Grace looked at Paul and smiled, she had been thinking the same thing herself, Jace should be here, what the hell did it matter if the woman was married, she needed to know, she needed to be here to help Catherine through the trauma.

"Yeah, the night of the accident. We had a party, she asked about you, how you were," he waited.

"How I am?' Catherine's lips curled in a wry smile 'appropriate.' Closing her eyes briefly she finally opened the sightless orbs and spoke again. "Was she with her.......husband?" Catherine asked quietly.

"Yeah, Adamson was there. Jace wants to see you Catherine!" he said quickly.

"No!" her voice gained extra strength from some unknown region in her battered body.

"Because of your present condition?" Grace asked in interest.

"No. She's married, that should say it all!" A tear slid from Catherine's right eye there was nothing she could do to prevent it.

"She loves you Catherine," Paul said finally.

"No you're wrong, she loved me. Let's have the sentiment correctly interpreted here not love, loved! She proved that by marrying Adamson. I need to get some sleep." Discussion closed.

Paul looked at Grace and they both had a sad look on their faces, they noticed the even breathing of their mutual friend. "What about coffee?"

"Love one, she'll come round Paul, trust me. Looks like I'm going to get months to work on her." Grace placed her arm on his elbow and they went towards the vending machine.

"I hope so, they both look lost without each other. It's as if they are both searching for something out of reach," he shook his head at the thought.

"They are. I think it's called a soulmate and they are each other's," Grace said simply.


Concluded in Part 20

Visit DRAGONJULS Storybook at http://pages.about.com/dragonjuls

Any and all comments are essential for the struggling muse. All are appreciated and will be answered:
jmdragon1@hotmail.com


Return to The Bard's Corner