The Protector of Memories (The Veil of Death Book 1) (6 page)

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Charity ‘The Face of Beauty’ in Horrific Car Crash

Yesterday, the 1
st
of April 2014, at midday, Charity’s car collided into a London bus, which in turn caused a multi-car collision that resulted in five fatalities.

Charity stood for 48 hours, with two other women, on the 1
st
January2014 in Park Lane. But it was Charity’s claim that turned her into the high profile celebrity that she is today: ‘I can offer to you Youth & Beauty’. She then revealed that she had been working on a ‘miracle’ cream. Volunteers ‘tested’ her brand of creams & lotions called - ‘YoungSkin’ and within a short period – just over two weeks - the women (10,000) stated that Charity’s brand of creams actually worked. It was publically announced on the 31
st
March 2014 (a day before Charity’s accident) that her invention of creams & lotions were indeed a ‘miracle’. ‘YoungSkin’ does not give the appearance of Youth & Beauty - it actually stops the skin from ageing.

Bizarrely however, Charity went public all but a few days ago and said that it was Mr Alastair Herringbone (the plastic surgeon and facial reconstruction specialist) who was the creator of her ‘youth & beauty’. I quote from Charity: ‘Mother Nature should not take credit for what man alone can do.’

Yesterday morning (1
st
April) was when Charity was to give her very first interview since she has shot from ‘unknown’ to ‘celebrity’. She was to answer the universal question that is being asked of her: “Why create a cream but use a plastic surgeon?”

The Police have issued a ‘no further comment’ stance until their investigations have been exhaustively carried out.

Hope opened her eyes and for a moment she was confused as to where she was. Recollection arrived into her awareness and she rubbed her hands over her face and through her hair. Her mouth was dry and it was hard to swallow because of the soreness in her throat.

She struggled off of the sofa, moaned aloud at the pain in her head and the stiffness of her muscles and joints. She stretched, walked over toward the window and looked over the park to sight the hospital that Charity was in. She blew a breath of air onto the window pane and stared at the mist that she had created.

“Good morning.” Faith called from the kitchen.

She had woken earlier than her sister and was already showered and dressed in pale-grey trousers and a peach silk blouse. She poured Hope and herself a mug of filter coffee, added a couple of spoonfuls of sugar and passed one over to her sister. She then pushed a plate of buttered toast across the breakfast bar.

“You need to eat something.” Faith said.

Hope chewed the toast and washed it down with the sweet, hot coffee. “Is our mother now a Dream Walker?”

Faith nodded and replied. “It is one of the ways to be on Earth but not a part of her.”

Hope looked at Faith’s auras and energies that shone around her sister’s mortal body. “I cannot see any particles of stardust within you.” She said and then asked. “Why would our mother give us our stardust, knowing that it would turn to…” she faltered, “Earth dust?”

Faith shook her head in disagreement. “But it hasn’t has it. Yours shines brightly within your auras and mine is within my mind…” she stopped talking and became distracted by the vast amount of ghosts that were flickering in and out of her apartment. She wished that they would cease with their chattering. “If only my mind was that of castles, caverns and canyons as those in our dream. For then I would have the rooms to contain all that you say to me.”

She scratched at her scalp, watched the ghosts for a couple of moments longer before turning her attentions onto Hope.

Her sister’s clothing, stained and worn, hung on her body in the same way that her skin hung on its skeletal frame. Her face was pale, gaunt and etched deep with lines and Faith saw them for what they really were – the signs of a body tormented with pain.
But what was the point of discussing what she could not offer her sister?
Faith spoke of what she could offer her. “You need a hot shower. And I have some new clothing that you can wear.”

Hope burst into a gentle laughter. “You sound like the mortal called Sam…” she thought now to her friends… her home. “Today, I must go home.” But she shook her head as another thought occurred to her. “I have not the abilities to manipulate the energies of Earth. I cannot lighten the load that Earth weighs her mortals down with.”

“Hope,” Faith stated. “The currency of their money will keep them going in wine and food. As to joy, laughter and merriment that they will have to create for themselves…” she held up her hands to stop her sister from interrupting. “The mortals have been doing that long before you descended upon them. Furthermore, not all mortals are weighed down with the heaviness of life.”

Hope smiled albeit a weak one. “Yes. You are right,” and she thought now to the money that she had stashed away in her home in Camden. “At least I can continue to supply my friends with the Rich Banquets of wine, food, shelter and music. For that fills the mortals with joy, laughter and merriment.”

“Do you not spend the money that Charity gave us on anything else?” Faith asked.

“What else is there to spend it on but the mortals themselves?”

Faith shook her head and held her arms out to indicate shelter, safety and comfort.

“I have that within the building that has been my home these past few months.” And changing the subject, Hope asked. “Do we lie to the mortals? Do we deceive them as we were deceived by one of our own kind?”

“No we do not.” Faith said. “And today we tell Charity just that.” But she frowned.

“What is it?” Hope asked when she saw the look of concern upon her sister’s face.

“The talk of money has reminded me of what Charity said to us at the hospital yesterday.” Faith repeated Charity’s words. “’The money that you both so willingly accepted from me came from the very fact that I represent youth and beauty. You were not so picky…’.”

“Yes I remember but what worries you?” Hope asked.

Faith shook her head. “We have all used our abilities whilst we still possessed them. But Charity sold them… sold something that is akin to selling the mortals’ their own air.”

“Faith, our Unity is now severed. So whatever Charity did weave into those inventions of hers it would have evaporated. Her creams will equal those of the mortals’ own inventions.” Hope smiled gently. “She gave to the mortals what they wanted; Youth and Beauty. In return they gave unto Charity what she wanted; Fame & Fortune.”

Faith scratched her head. “Yes…” she paused and asked, “no harm has been done has there?”

Hope shook her head. “I doubt it. Charity shared her wealth so that our lives would be made the more comfortable…” she faltered, “maybe that is what Charity meant. By taking her money we have to a degree colluded with her illusion.” Hope shrugged her shoulders. “But the exchange was fair. Now it is not.”

“It does not make it right?” Faith said and looked around the comfort of her home. “All that I own was purchased with that money.”

Hope stepped closer to Faith, squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “If Charity intends to continue in her illusion - lie and deceive the mortals, then that is our sister’s choice. But you and I…” she smiled gently at Faith before adding, “You said it yourself only moments ago. Today we tell our sister that we will not be joining her within that deceit.”

Faith scratched her head and gave some thought to Hope’s words. “You are right,” she said and taking her sister’s hand into her own added. “I have missed you. The company of ghosts have been a great comfort to me but they are somewhat… limited.”

Hope laughed gently, hugged her sister, stepped away, “now then,” she asked. “Where is this promise of hot water and clean clothing?”

“Follow me.” Faith said and led her through the archway and into the spare bedroom that was situated next to her own bedroom.

∞

While Hope took a shower, Faith cleared away the crockery.

When she had done that, she refilled her sister’s hip-flask before going into the bedroom to sort out an assortment of new clothing.

She laid a selection out for Hope and put the rest into a black rucksack (with white lettering; West End Library on the front pouch.)

Faith then collected up Hope’s dirty clothing, made her way back out into the kitchen and binned them. She made some sandwiches, packed them and a bottle of wine into the rucksack and made her way over toward the front door. She placed the rucksack on the floor, put her sister’s replenished hip-flask back into her denim jacket and sat down in one of the leather armchairs.

Leaning back into the comfort of the chair, she listened to the mass of voices and began to scratch incessantly at her scalp. “Why do you insist on talking all at once? Settle yourselves…” she flinched as a fingernail sunk into her scalp deeper than it should have. She patted her head while imagining the possibilities of her mind creating a memory palace within it. “Why did I not do that with my abilities whilst I had them?”

But Faith knew the answer to her own question and spoke now to the shadows where Madness was hovering;
because I was using them to keep you at bay.

Hope appeared from the archway dressed in a clean pair of jeans, long sleeved t-shirt of an olive-green colour and a pair of black trainers. Her body felt invigorated from the hot water and her mind revitalised from the lemon fragranced shower gel. But as she walked toward her sister, she stopped in mid-stride at the sight of Faith’s appearance.

Her sister’s skin was drained of all vitality and well-being, the scalp was covered with open sores and her sister’s body continually rocked backwards and forwards.
Please
, Hope quietly prayed to her mother,
let the stardust protect my sister’s mind.

Faith stood at the approach of her sister and handed her the rucksack. “This should keep you going for a couple of days. You know that this place is your home also. I purchased it in the belief that we would all live together…”she scratched at her head, “it hasn’t quite worked out that way.”

Hope smiled softly. “I need to keep flowing the Festivities of Life and Rich Banquets where there is none.”

“I understand. But it would comfort me to know that you are safe.”

Hope put on her denim jacket, reached for Faith’s hand. “Thank you,” she said and kissed her sister on the cheek.

“There will always be clean clothes, food and shelter for you here Hope.” Faith squeezed her sister’s hand, opened the front door. “Come,” she said. “Let us tell Charity what she does not want to hear.”

∞

One hour later, Faith and Hope stood outside a four-storied building made of steel and glass. They found the main door to be locked and sighting a buzzer, Faith pressed it.

A man appeared, dressed in a black and yellow uniform. He peered through the glass door, before he unlocked and opened it.

“We have come to see our sister Charity.” Hope said as she smiled at the man.

“Crikey,” he said, looked at his watch: 7.56. “You’re the early birds catching the worms eh? Names please?” He asked and scrolled down the list of names for ‘Faith’ and ‘Hope’. “You’re not down on the visitor’s list,” he said and looked up and between the women. “If your names aren’t on the visitor’s list then I can’t let you in… beside I’d need to see some identification as well.”

Hope frowned as to why it was that they were always being asked to prove who they were. “Is it not enough that I stand before you?” She asked of the man. “I am Hope the sister of Charity and…” she pointed to Faith, “this is Faith, the sister of Charity and thy Self.”

The man raised his eye-brow. “That may be but I still need to connect your face with your name. Passport? Driver’s License_”

“Mr Row.” Alastair interrupted, “Let them in.”

He stood and waited until the women were inside his clinic. “Follow me.” he said and swiped a card into a silver box, led them up a flight of stairs; through a maze of corridors and then up another flight of stairs before finally ushering them into a very large room. “I’ll escort you both out in twenty minutes. In future I insist that you ring the clinic before you next intend visiting it.”

Hope was about to acknowledge the request but Mr Herringbone had already left the room.

She smiled over toward Charity who was sitting in a high-backed cream-coloured armchair positioned underneath the room’s only window.

Hope smiled again and walked about the room, breathing in the fragrances from the vast amount of flowers; roses, carnations, daffodils and fuchsias. If it were not for the array of colours of the flowers then the room would have been stark within its colour of white.

“Many people wish you better.” Hope said. “You always did shine bright within the Universe and you do so upon Earth. I am pleased for you Charity.” She smiled gently at her sister and continued to walk about the room, reading the many messages on the cards attached to the stems of the flowers.

Charity rolled her eyes toward the ceiling at Hope’s annoying habit of forever being cheerful. She ignored Hope’s comments and concentrated instead on what she wanted them to say to the media. “You are not to speak to the press,” Charity said, “and if you do you say only, ‘no comment…’” she paused, “for pity sake do not let on that you are my sisters…” she held up her healthy arm to stop Hope from talking. “Let me finish. I will not have you telling the world that you are my sisters.” She looked over at Faith and wondered why she had yet to utter a single word.

She “tutted” in disgust at the way Faith continually scratched at her head until her scalp bled. “Faith!” she snapped. “Will you stop behaving as if you are some sort of nutcase? The ghosts speak to you… you relay their messages. End of. Deal with it.” Charity looked around the room. She saw nothing - no auras of anything or anybody – human, ghosts or otherwise.

Charity looked at Faith and questioned.
Why her? Why does she still get to see all creatures in existence?

“Charity,” Hope said. “You make it sound as if living within the Realms of the Afterlife and Life were as easy as…” she hesitated in saying what she was going to say but decided to say it anyway, “… as easy as having your photograph taken.” Hope held her hands up. “No Charity. Let
me
finish. Never forget that Faith struggles with the limitations of the mortal mind. Can you not see what waits within the shadows? Do you not see how Madness is all too happy to fill it?” Hope looked over at Faith but she could not help but stare - open-mouthed - at what she was now witnessing.

There was a creature – similar to the one in the dream – hovering in between Faith and Charity. This one had five spindly, tendrils of threads that were connected to what appeared to be a speckle of black. Hope looked for its auras and life-force… but she saw nothing. “No life-force?” And this confused her because whatever that thing was it was alive.