Different (16 page)

After the police officers left, there were more hugs all round and then Uncle Peter said, “I think you and Mary should pack, Jay. We want to be long gone before those reporters come back."

"Where are we going?” Jay asked. “They'll soon find us in a hotel."

"I guess you're going to have to get your eighteenth birthday present a couple of months early,” Peter said. “Mom and Dad were going to give it to you as a surprise.” He saw her puzzled look and grinned. “You are now the new owner of Honeysuckle Cottage. Mom and Dad wanted you to have it and we do too. You can live in it, rent it out or even sell it. Whatever you decide is ok with us, but right now I suggest we all go and stay there. There's no way anyone's going to find us in Catherstone Village, it's miles away from here, and also, Mom and Dad have always told me they'd like to be buried in the churchyard there."

Jay had always assumed her grandparents had sold the cottage when they moved to Wales. “But isn't there anyone living in it, it can't have been left standing empty for all these years?"

"No, Mom and Dad rented it out for six months a year as a holiday home, through an agent who paid a caretaker to keep the place up to scratch. They didn't lease it out this year because your birthday's in October, so it's all ready for you to move in."

"Whereabouts is Catherstone?” Mary asked. “I've never heard of it."

"I know it's where I came from,” Jay said, “but I can't remember it at all.” She was tempted to tell them about the things she'd learned about herself, but decided now was not the right time. Everything she'd heard seemed surreal, but she would like to have a look around the village where Tom and Anna had found her, and try and find out more about the fenced off land they had called The Devil's Footprint. “Come on Mary, let's get our things together,” she said. “We can ring David later and explain. I'm sure he wouldn't mind taking care of things here for us, while we're away."

Jeremy Marchant, the Prime Minister was dying. He'd been secretly rushed to a private hospital when his stomach pains and diarrhoea had started to become more frequent. Apparently both of his kidneys had failed. He'd listened to a lengthy explanation as to how it occasionally happened, but cutting through all the medical mumbo-jumbo and hype, unless he received a kidney transplant within the next few weeks, and with his rare blood type finding a suitable donor was unlikely, Jeremy would have to go on permanent dialysis.

So far only he, his doctor and closest friends knew, but he would have to make a statement to the House and resign this week, before the secret was leaked. It was a decision he loathed to make because there was so much he still had to do, but there wasn't any other choice.

"Prime Minister.” His doctor and friend, Quentin Westland was standing by his side, Jeremy hadn't heard him approach.

"Quentin?” The doctor looked uneasy as though he'd had something on his mind, something he didn't want to say. “What is it?"

"There's a suitable kidney available, two in fact but it's a private clinic and they're asking for twenty thousand pounds for the pair."

Jeremy, who had campaigned long and hard against private hospitals, didn't hesitate. “I'll pay it,” he said. “Does the clinic know who I am?"

"No sir, discretion is their speciality, no one will ever know."

"Is this one of those black-market organ transplants we've been hearing about?"

"Yes sir, the donor, a young woman, is a runaway."

"If I accept her kidneys she'll die won't she, Quentin?"

"Yes Sir, if you take both of them, but you could lead a normal life if you only took one and so could she."

"But two would be better?"

"Obviously yes, but..."

"No buts Quentin, I'll have them both! When?"

"I can arrange it for the end of the week, if you're sure."

"I'm sure. Look Quentin, if a homeless runaway can save my life there's so much more I can do."

"Yes Sir, if it's any consolation these runaways usually end up dead from drug abuse anyway, and it's not as though she's of any real consequence. If you'll excuse me, I'll make the necessary arrangements."

"What's the name of the clinic?"

"The Greystone Foundation, Sir."

Russell and Janine's organisation! Jeremy started to laugh, startling his physician. “Arrange it as quickly as you can Quentin, and in the next few days if possible."

After his doctor had gone, the Prime Minister sat deep in thought for a long time and then smiled, he'd issue a press release saying that he was paying a private visit to a dying friend, it wasn't that far off the truth, the girl was sacrificing her life for his and that made her his very best friend. He would have to find out from Russell whether her other organs could be frozen or something, or perhaps he could have her cloned. Now that he wasn't going to die, the possibilities seemed endless.

The village was midway between the town of Rugely and the city of Lichfield. A bypass led the traffic past Catherstone, which lay five miles to the West along a narrow winding road.
The village would be a natural target for tourists if they knew of its existence
, Jay thought. The church encircled by a dry-stone-wall, and neat rows of weathered gravestones, dominated the centre of the village.

Opposite the church, on the other side of the narrow main road was a black and white half-timbered pub. Even the shops looked as though they'd been trapped in time. There were no neon signs, every sign was hand painted on wood. Thatched and red tile roofed cottages, all either built of the same sand coloured stone, or with walls skilfully painted to match, clustered behind the pub. There was even a village green complete with a large pond that spread up to the church's Eastern wall. To the North of the village, a wooden sign pointed to Catherstone Chase and Peter turned the hired car onto the narrow lane that led to the chase.

"It's lovely,” Mary said, “Which is your cottage?"

"I can't remember. I don't remember this place at all."

"It's about half a mile along here, we should be able to see it in a minute,” Peter said. “Yes, look. There it is on your right."

Jay tried to see something familiar about the thatched black and white timbered cottage with its small front garden and honey suckle covered fence, but it was as though she'd never set eyes on it before.

Scott, who'd hardly said a word since they left Wales almost five hours ago, leaned over and squeezed her arm affectionately. “I remember when we came over on your fifth birthday, you used to race me down to the tree at the bottom of the back garden, and you were pretty fast for a girl."

Jay forced a smile trying to hide her apprehension, for here was where it all began, and she could almost feel her subconscious straining and trying to awaken her forgotten memories of the past.

Peter parked the vehicle in the gravelled driveway and when Scott opened the rear hatch door to remove their luggage, Troy jumped out and stood wagging his tail furiously.

"Troy!” Jay cried and dropped to her knees and hugged him as he licked her face in welcome. “How did you get in there?” With everything that had happened, Jay had forgotten all about him.

"He must have sneaked into the back while we were fetching more luggage,” Scott said. “I didn't realise you had a dog."

"I've only had him for a couple of days,” Jay said. “A friend of mine gave him to me."

Mary tickled the dog's ear. “Who's a clever doggy,” She cooed and Troy wagged his tail furiously.

"Well, I guess we ought to go inside and make ourselves at home,” Uncle Peter said. He looked at his watch. “I don't know about you guys but I could do with something to eat, so why don't we get the luggage inside and then go down to the pub for some lunch?"

"Sounds good to me,” Scott said. “How about you girls?"

"Yes and while we're in the village I can get some dog food for Troy,” Jay said.

Mary nodded in agreement and after dumping their luggage in the hall they walked into the village.

The Boar's Head must have been one of the oldest buildings in the village, Jay thought, the blackened oak beams that were set into the white plastered walls were bent and twisted with age, and upon entering the building, it was like stepping into another age.

Old-fashioned copper lanterns, that had been skilfully converted to electricity, hung from the walls and from above the bar, a bar the like of which, Jay had never seen before.

A great shelf of four-inch thick, eighteen-inch wide oak spanned the length of an alcove. It rested on upright empty wooden barrels, and behind the counter three six-foot diameter oak beer barrels rested on whitewashed brickwork supports. In front of each of those huge barrels, old-fashioned beer pumps were mounted on a smaller version of the bar counter.

"Wow, now this is what I call a bar,” Scott said.

"This is real beer, Scott,” his father warned. “Treat it carefully because from what I remember it's strong. What would you girls like?"

"Mary and I will have half of bitter-shandy,” Jay said

They sat at one of the window tables and ordered a meal.

Afterwards they wandered around the village for a while before returning to the cottage to unpack.

Mary looked out of the bedroom window that overlooked the back garden and grinned. “If we were kids, this garden would be great for playing hide-and-seek."

Jay felt as though she'd been hit by an electric shock and staggered.

"Are you ok?” Mary sounded worried.

Jay, who felt a little better and was wondering what had happened to her, nodded. “I think so,” she said. “I just felt a bit strange for a second, that's all. I think I'll go outside and get some fresh air."

"I think I'm going to have a shower,” Mary said. “If you're sure you're all right."

"You go ahead, I'll be fine. I'll see you later.” Not giving Mary the chance to argue, Jay left their room and ran lightly downstairs. Jay didn't need any fresh air but Mary's mention of hide-and-seek had awoken a memory from deep within her subconscious. It was a memory she couldn't quite grasp. It was connected with the garden and the game though, she was certain of that.

Scott and Peter were in the living room watching a sports programme on the TV when Jay came downstairs and walked into the kitchen. She let herself into the garden and felt a faint stirring of distant memories as she gazed around her. Somehow she knew the well-kept lawn on her right had once been Granddad Tom's vegetable patch. The garden was about a hundred yards long and she stared past the flowering bushes and the fruit trees toward the mighty chestnut tree that dominated the far end. It was huge and its branches spread almost the width of the land. Jay was drawn towards it as though it was calling to her.

The gnarled greyish brown bark of its massive trunk intrigued her and she tentatively reached out her hand, touched it and remembered.

Jay had been excited because she'd never met, Uncle Peter, Aunt Sharon, or her cousin Scott, and they were going to be flying all the way from America to be there in time for her fifth birthday next month. Jay wondered if they'd bring her a present.

"One—two—three...” Granddad counted as he faced away from her, they were playing hide-and-seek in the garden and Jay wanted somewhere really good to hide, she decided to hide behind the huge chestnut tree that spread its mighty branches over the garden.

As she heard Tom drawing nearer, she realised that despite all her efforts, he was going to find her and then somehow she knew what she had to do. Quickly, she stripped off her clothes and stuffed them under a shrub just in front of her and pressing her back against the tree she became. First, her body stiffened and then she could feel her skin changing and by squinting she could see the tip of her nose, it looked wrinkled, cracked and was the colour of the bark of the tree.

She wanted to laugh when Tom looked straight at her but didn't see her and wandered off hunting for her once more and Jay remained where she was because it felt so good.

"Jay! Jay!” Granddad's voice was edged with fear now and he was standing in front of her. She realised she must have taken a nap and Tom was frightened for her.

"Here I am, Granddad!” she cried stepping away from the tree towards him and stopped as his mouth opened in shock when he saw her. She unbecame and stood uncertainly in front of him.
Was he mad at her for taking off her clothes?

"Jay,” he said in a strange voice, “How did you do that?” He dropped to one knee and held his arms out to her and hugged when she ran into them. She was so relieved that he wasn't angry with her. Jay loved her grandparents.

"How did you do that Jay?” he asked again.

"I just became.” she said, but could see he didn't understand. “Like this,” she said and laid one of her arms on top of his. She willed herself to become, slowly the colour of her arm and hand changed until they matched the checker pattern of his shirt sleeve.

"Dear God, a Chameleon!” he said in a strange voice, which wasn't the same strange voice he'd used before.

Jay heard the sound of broken glass coming from the cottage and her Grandma screamed in pain. “Grandma!” She cried, pulling herself free of Tom's arms, she fled up towards the house. Her Grandma was lying on her back in the living room and there was blood and broken glass all over the floor. Ignoring the sting of the glass that sliced into the bare flesh of her feet, she ran to Anna and scooped her up into her arms and carried her towards the lounge.

"Anna!” Granddad Tom stood in the doorway staring at her in disbelief as she walked towards him carrying her Nana.

"Grandma Anna, fallen over and hurt her head bad,” she said, allowing him to take her Grandma out of her arms and became aware for the first time of the agonising pain in her feet. Looking down, Jay saw she was standing in a pool of blood, her own. Granddad Tom was laying Grandma down on the sofa as Jay returned to the kitchen and found a brush pan and started to clean up the glass. Her feet were feeling better and they weren't bleeding any more.