John Matthews - Past Imperfect

With the arrest warrant served and Machanaud's rights read out as he was dragged off to the cells, for the first time it struck Dominic what Machanaud faced. If convicted, he would probably get the death penalty or would be exiled to a living death in the penal colonies. With the harshness of colony regimes and disease rife, average life expectancy was little more than six years. From his cell window, Machanaud had probably even heard the church bells announcing the memorial service, rallying the emotions of the village against him.

It was a daunting, impossible choice: leave his mother alone to die, or stay silent and allow a man whose guilt he questioned be condemned.

'…Teste David cum Sibylla.' Muted weeping now also from an unknown woman towards the back of the church. '…Quantus tremor est futurus. The last loud trumpet's spreading tone, shall thro' the place of tombs be blown — to summon all before the Throne. Nature and death with fixed eyes, shall see the trembling creature rise — to plead before the last assize. The written book shall be outspread, and all that it contains be read. To try the living and the dead.'

Curate Bergoin offered little guidance.

Session 5.

'…Or is it perhaps you're concerned that if we confront Jojo, ask him questions, we'll frighten him off. He won't appear in the dreams to help you again.'

'I don't know… perhaps a bit.'

'The dreams are special between you — and you don't want to spoil it.'

'… It's not knowing what to do.' Eyran's head lolled, as if asking consent of an unseen figure.

Lambourne let the moment ride, let the thought sink deeper home. He’d spent the last twenty minutes setting the mood to draw out Jojo directly, and finally he sensed he was close. 'I think you're a lot surer of his friendship than you make out. You don't think he'd frighten off easily, do you?'

After a few seconds, Eyran exhaled slowly; reluctant acceptance. 'No.'

'But while you might like to know the answers — know how Jojo lost his parents and where, see just how much you have in common — you're not sure how to ask the questions. But that's where I can help you.’ Lambourne left a long silence, watching Eyran's reaction: his brow was furrowed then relaxed, his tongue lightly moistening his lips. The suggestion was fully there now; all he had to do was fill in the gaps. '…You don't need to worry about confronting him — because we can go back to the past dreams and I can talk to Jojo directly.'

Lambourne could see that Eyran was teetering on the brink, fighting between what he'd like to believe — being able to ask Jojo questions, guide some events for once rather than be just a passenger — and what his senses told him was real: the dreams were over, they were in the past. If he could change the past… the first thing he'd do was bring his parents back alive. Like a boxer with his opponent reeling, Lambourne knew that if he didn't keep up the momentum, he could lose Eyran at any moment.

'…But I'll need your help Eyran. Jojo is with you, he's part of you — part of your dreams. If you really want to know the answers, Jojo will talk to me. Of that I'm sure. Will you help me?'

'… I don't know…. how would I help?'

'By wanting to know the answers as much as me. You do want to know about Jojo, don't you… know why he's a friend, know what happened to him so that you can better understand why he's there to help you?' Lambourne watched each tick of expression on Eyran's face as the messages went home. Eyran was close to coming to terms with it. 'If you really want to know those things — then I'm sure it will work.'

Eyran swallowed slowly. 'Yes… I would like to know.'

But Lambourne could read the uncertainty still in Eyran's face. 'If it doesn't work, if Jojo doesn't want to speak to us — then we'll soon know. There'll be nothing lost. We'll just continue as before.'

And for the first time there was a glimmer of acceptance, an easing in Eyran's expression as the portent of failure was lifted. It wasn't the full acceptance he'd have liked, but probably the best he'd get. He pushed the advantage before the moment was lost. '… So let's go back to the last dream you had… try and find Jojo. Tell me, what's the first thing you see?'

The sudden leap caught Eyran by surprise, and Lambourne could see that Eyran was suddenly perplexed, fighting for images just out of reach. 'Its okay… take your time,' Lambourne soothed. He counted off the seconds as Eyran's breathing slowly settled back.

'… It was dusk, the light was fading fast… I was approaching the copse.'

The dreams were always a tease, thought Lambourne: images not clear, mist that obscured reality, fading light that meant he would be lost in the darkness if he didn't find his parents soon. Jojo always had him on a tight treadmill.

'…There was a figure on the edge of the wheat field, just before the copse, looking back at me… But I couldn't see clearly who it was.'

'Did you think that the figure might be your father — or Jojo perhaps?'

'I wasn't sure… but as I started to run closer to get a clear view, I came into a clearing of wheat which looked like it had been cut neatly away — and Jojo was sitting there, looking down. He looked sad at first, lost… but as he saw me, he smiled and stood up.'

Lambourne saw an opportunity. 'Did you ask Jojo what was wrong, why he looked so sad?'

'No… no, I didn't. When he smiled and stood up, I was sure then it was my father ahead — and I was keen to point him out to Jojo.'

Lambourne could see the mixture of doubt and elation on Eyran's face. Doubt that once again he might have ignored Jojo's emotions and feelings — battling with his elation that it might be his father. He would need to deal with the father's sighting first to get Eyran fully focused.

Jojo quickly took control. Eyran described the distant shape fading into the shadows as Jojo looked up, saying that Eyran's father had probably gone deeper into the copse. Jojo started to lead the way. Lambourne tensed as the descriptions rolled, tapping his pencil on his notes. Over a week's delay before Stuart Capel finally signed the consent slip, and only then because there'd been another bad dream. Lambourne knew that if he didn't succeed in drawing out Jojo now, there might not be another chance.

As Eyran described them in pursuit, heading across the field and through the trees towards the brook, Lambourne's nerves bristled — fearing another dream ending. But this time they headed out of the woods and into an open field the other side, and he was lulled into complacency by the setting and his pre-occupation with returning Eyran to where he first met Jojo. He was only alerted by Eyran's sudden change in breathing — suddenly more laboured, his eyelids flickering rapidly. '…Does the dream end badly there?'

'Yes… we… there was a dip… I… I' Fractured breathing, Eyran swallowing on his words.

'It's okay… It's okay! You don't need to go there again. Step back from the clearing… step back! '

Eyran looked startled for a moment. Lambourne realized then that he'd shouted. He quickly introduced a calmer, more soothing tone. 'Let's go back… back away from the clearing. Yes — that's it…. you're away from any danger now…'

Lambourne left a few seconds gap between each comment, as if waiting for Eyran to catch up with him. '…We're going back to the beginning — back to where you first met Jojo in the first field. He was sitting then in another clearing of wheat. You mentioned that he looked very sad. But we never found out why he was so sad.'

Eyran's breathing gradually eased. He looked more settled.

'… You thought perhaps that you should have asked, that he might have been upset you didn't ask. But it doesn't matter — we can ask him now.'