Misty Falls (3 page)

‘It’s nice that he likes playing with the dog,’ said Uriel kindly, catching the bottle the little boy had dropped as he bobbed up and down in his seat.

‘No, I meant Brand likes us to throw
him
a stick; the dog doesn’t get a look in. And he gnaws things, trouser legs mostly.’

I laughed as Willow and Hazel giggled. Uriel handed him back his bottle and Brand gave a bright yip, which suggested he was following more of the conversation than a two-year-old could usually be expected to understand. He promptly dropped his drink again.

Uriel snatched it up before it hit the tarmac. ‘I think I’m being taken for a ride. He’s playing bottle-fetch.’

‘Welcome to my family,’ I said to Uriel. ‘We are all certifiable.’

He offered his hands to the girls to hold for crossing the road. ‘Makes me feel right at home.’

After a shower and time to unpack, we convened in the kitchen for our council of war. My family home back in the UK was in a leafy suburb of London; Opal’s house was in a similar area in Cape Town: the Zwaanswyck district, an affluent neighbourhood with fabulous houses and gardens, south of the centre. Cape Town has one of the world’s best climates so everything looked fresh and green, except for the rocky flanks of Table Mountain that dominated the skyline. A cloud-cloth covered the top, formed as the moist sea air bumped into Africa. Her husband and soulfinder, Milo Carr, worked as a dental surgeon; Opal was a lawyer but was taking a career break to be with the children. Their house was a lovely place to spend a holiday: a long low building with sprawling lawns and a circular pool, though during the cooler and wetter winter days, only the hardiest swimmer would take a dip. That would be me. Coming from England, I was going to take advantage of the slightest glimpse of sunshine and had laid out my bikini in case it warmed up later.

But first things first: Uriel’s big moment.

Opal put coffee cups on the kitchen table in front of us and then carried over a plate of homemade biscuits. Through the picture window behind her I could see the girls playing on the swing hanging from the silver oak at the far end of the lawn; Brand was sitting in a playpen having an earnest conversation with Nutty, the family’s chocolate Labrador. The girls’ pictures and models decorated every spare inch of the kitchen cabinets: a random collection of unicorns, family faces, butterflies, and safari animals. Pot plants exploded in happy blossom on every spare ledge and windowsill. I thought the whole place had a friendly messiness to it, which had to be Milo’s relaxing effect on my aunt as she was famous among her brothers and sisters for being a neat freak, a good practical example of soulfinders balancing out each other’s gifts.

I picked up a biscuit and took a bite. ‘Hmm-hmm—chocolate chip! You made these?’

Opal finally took a seat, hauling a large file with her, which wafted the crumbs as she dropped it down in front of Uriel. The surface of his coffee ringed from the centre out in the shockwave. ‘Hardly, Misty. I don’t have time to cook. I’ve been too busy with this. Willow made the cookies with her dad last night.’

‘Compliments to the chefs,’ said Uriel. He tapped the file. ‘What’s this?’

‘My research.’ Opal took a sip of coffee. ‘On your potential soulfinder—I’ve trawled through those with the right age who fitted Crystal’s hints. They’re only the ones known to the Savant Net but I had to start somewhere. To save you time, I’ve narrowed it down to one front-runner.’ She frowned slightly, reviewing her material. ‘Of course, we can’t rule out that there is another candidate out there who doesn’t know about us.’

‘You are very thorough.’

‘Legal training.’ Opal shrugged as if that explained it. She also had a savant gift for restoration, returning things to their original condition, which went well with her compulsion to see to the detail. She would have been knockout as a picture restorer but had surprised the family by choosing law. She explained that she preferred restoring justice to lives than flecks of paint on old masters. ‘My favourite is the one at the top; there isn’t really anyone else in her league of suitability. You’ll see I’ve gathered a lot of information on her, educational background and professional qualifications. She works at the Groote Schuur Hospital in the paediatric department. I got to know her a little when she treated Brand for a bad chest infection.’

Normally so controlled, Uriel’s hand was shaking very slightly as he opened the file to the first photo. ‘Francie Coetzee.’ He studied the picture, his finger tracing the edge, then put it down, expression puzzled. ‘Strange, I was expecting something, I don’t know,
more
when I saw her.’

Opal gave him an understanding smile. ‘It isn’t always a bolt of lightning, Uriel. Milo and I weren’t sure until we connected telepathically.’

‘And then?’ I asked, curious to hear this part of the story.

She grinned. ‘Zap!’ We laughed as she blushed.

‘Well done, Uncle Milo!’

‘Yes, well.’ Opal cleared her throat, too late to hide her embarrassment at letting that out. ‘I’ve asked Francie if I can meet up at the hospital café after her shift. I mentioned I was bringing savant guests who were visiting Cape Town for the first time.’

‘What’s she expecting from us?’ Uriel asked.

‘I said that Milo and I were very boring hosts with the kids limiting our partying and wondered if she could introduce you to some younger locals. She’s got a group together for tomorrow night. Is that soon enough for you?’

He swallowed. ‘Yes.’

Opal patted his hand. ‘Look through the file. She’s a lovely girl, brilliant at her job.’

Uriel nodded, but I could tell he was disappointed. It was probably just jet lag so I told him so.

‘You’re right. I should sleep on it.’ He picked up the file. ‘Is it OK if I take this back to my room?’

‘Absolutely. I’ll let you know when it’s time for lunch.’ Opal whisked some crumbs into her palm in a nervous tidying gesture.

We waited for him to leave the room before letting our eyes meet.

‘Oh dear,’ said Opal. ‘Do you think I should phone Crystal?’

‘Let’s not panic, auntie. It’s just the first candidate.’

‘I think I convinced myself I’d done a good job finding the right woman but now I’m not sure.’

Brand started whimpering because Nutty had left him to join the girls. Opal used her telekinetic powers to make his teddy bear do a jig in front of him. He switched to a throaty chuckle.

‘He’s gorgeous,’ I said. ‘So sweet. He is going to have all the little girls in kindergarten after him.’

‘That’s savant boys for you. Heartbreakers, all of them. I just hope Francie is tough enough to take it tomorrow. She must have suspected I was up to something.’

‘Why?’

‘Her gift is to read minds. That’s why she’s so good at what she does: she can pick out the thoughts of even the most confused little person who doesn’t understand what’s making them feel bad. I’m afraid she’ll be expecting something momentous to happen.’

I felt a moment of déjà vu. Hadn’t I had a similar conversation with Crystal? The women in my family all seemed to feel they were responsible for everything. ‘It’s not your fault, auntie. You’ve done your best. Anyway, I’ll be there to help you both find out the truth.’

Uriel pulled out all the stops for his first encounter with his potential match; he emerged from his bedroom shaved, groomed and dressed in a carefully picked green T-shirt with a tree on the front and faded jeans that showcased his yummy golden skin and cyclist’s lean fitness. I emerged from my room looking like I’d had a close encounter with a hedge trimmer. I’d made the mistake of washing my hair before going to bed, forgetting that my curl-taming lotion was back in a Heathrow bin.

I held up my hand as Uriel and Opal caught a glimpse of me. ‘Don’t. I know.’

Hazel cartwheeled into the kitchen. ‘Hey, Misty, what’s happened to your hair? You look funny.’

Just then I felt a hot resentment of Hazel’s neat black plaits. Opal had escaped the plague of the frizzy hair that had been inherited by some members of our family and so her children were free of the jinx.

‘I do not look funny, Hazel. I’m just channelling my inner alpaca.’

Brand made a sound like a high-pitched donkey bray.

‘What was that?’ I asked.

‘I think he’s imitating the alpaca alarm call,’ said Uriel, bending down by the little guy. ‘That’s so cool. Where did you learn that?’

Brand howled like a wolf.

‘Discovery Channel,’ said Opal. ‘He gets Nutty to fetch him the remote when my back’s turned. He loves nature programmes. And you wonder why I’ve not yet gone back to work? Think what he would do at nursery.’ She laughed and shook her head. ‘Milo, we’re leaving!’

Uncle Milo came in from the garden, Willow riding piggyback. A short, rounded man with a high forehead, Opal’s soulfinder was built for comfort rather than speed. He had a gift for making things grow and bloom so was usually very restful to be around. But not today. Instead of calming with wise words, he looked anxious. ‘I hope it goes well, Uriel. We’ll be rooting for you.’ He reached out and shook hands with his American guest. Here was another one treating it like a major battle.

‘OK, guys, let’s go then.’ I headed for the door before Uriel got too spooked.

Mercifully, the drive to the hospital did not take long. Opal swung into a bay in the visitors’ car park and we got out onto the damp tarmac. The evening was turning sunny after the earlier rain showers; long shadows stretched out before us so we looked like an alien landing party. Nudging Uriel, I put my fingers by my ears and waggled to make antennae, hoping to make him laugh.

‘What on earth are you doing?’ Opal asked, locking the car with a click of the key fob.

Normal people would make up a lie at this point, something about massaging their temples, but I can’t. ‘Making a Martian?’ It came out with a question mark as I realized how stupid it sounded.

‘If you can’t take this seriously, Misty, perhaps you’d better stay in the car.’ Her tone was more irritated than justified by my goofing around; nerves were getting to her too.

Uriel smiled at me. ‘She’s fine, Opal. She’s making me relax. I feel a little fish-out-of-water. You know, Misty, you remind me of Xav—in a good way.’ He slung an arm around my shoulders and we walked together to meet his destiny. ‘He’s our family clown.’

We sat with our drinks around a mosaic-patterned table near the door to the café. Coffee beans fought with the antiseptic smell of the hospital foyer—caffeine just winning. I stirred my raspberry frappuccino, enjoying the marbling effect through the clear glass. Opal kept checking her watch every minute.

‘She’s late.’

‘I imagine that she can’t just down tools at the end of her shift doing what she does,’ Uriel said quietly. His leg under the table was jigging nervously. I had to do something to make him relax or this would be one awkward first-day-of-the-rest-of-their-lives.

‘OK, Uriel, if you could be an animal other than a human, which one would you pick?’ My mind was still pondering that alpaca thing so this was the first question that came to mind. I liked ‘what if?’ conversations as they didn’t involve lies and there was nothing to set my teeth on edge.

‘Misty.’ Opal sounded so like my mother it was uncanny.

‘No, it’s all right. She’s attempting to distract me while we wait.’ At least Uriel understood me.

My aunt gave a funny little snort. I tabbed her as a show pony tossing its mane in displeasure.

‘I’ll start. I always think I’d want to be a dolphin,’ I confessed. ‘Fabulous swimming ability combined with huge smile: what’s not to like?’

A woman approached from behind Uriel, stethoscope stuffed into one pocket. Francie: it had to be. Petite, with a short brunette bob framing an elfin face, she struck me as appearing too young for the doctor’s coat, reminding me of Peace and Felicity when I caught them tottering about in our mum’s high heels. Opal’s face lit up on Francie’s arrival but Uriel had not yet noticed. Francie paused, not wanting to interrupt as Uriel had already started speaking.

‘If I were an animal I’d be a … ’ He rubbed his chest then leaned forward as an idea struck. ‘Yeah, I’d be a condor. Imagine flying above the Andes. Amazing.’ He stretched out his arms.

‘Yes, that would be amazing,’ said Francie.

Uriel leapt to his feet, the chair legs scraping on the floor with a horrid grating sound. If he had been a condor he would have squawked in surprise and shed a few feathers.

‘Hello there. I’m Francie Coetzee.’ She shook hands with Uriel in a matter-of-fact manner. ‘I guess you must be Uriel. Nice to see you again, Opal. And this has to be your niece; Misty, isn’t it?’ She laughed. ‘That sounds odd on a sunny day.’

‘Yes, I get that a lot.’

‘Sorry, I guess you do. Welcome to Cape Town.’ She slid out of her white coat and folded it over the back of a chair. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘We’re good, thanks.’ Uriel gestured to the round of barely touched drinks.

‘I’ll be back in a second.’ She went over to the counter to order a coffee.

I had tried not to be nervous for Uriel’s sake but I couldn’t contain my excitement any longer. ‘Well?’