Fiona McIntosh - Scrivener’s Tale

He didn’t show his irritation at her response but decided to refocus her and deliberately reached forward to pick up his coffee. He sipped slowly, saying nothing, waiting for her attention to return. It tasted terrible. He was off his game. As he knew it would, his silence won her notice.

She blinked, looked at him. ‘What?’ she asked, sounding as though she had missed what he’d said.

‘You wrote me a note. I have it here,’ he said, putting his glass down and digging in his pocket.

‘I know what it says.’

‘Will you explain it to me? Let’s return to the beginning. I mean, why you’re so frightened.’

‘I’m not when I’m here with you.’

‘Good. Why is that?’

‘Perhaps you’ve noticed how he watches my every move? He doesn’t let me out of his sight.’

Gabe shrugged. ‘Well, that’s because he’s your physician and responsible for —’

‘No, Gabe. Can I call you Gabe?’ He wasn’t sure what to say but she’d taken his hesitation as permission. ‘He’s frightened of me leaving.’

‘Leaving?’ He frowned. ‘Paris?’

Angelina threw out her arms. ‘No, here.’

‘My apartment,’ he qualified.

She smiled as though he was simple. ‘This world.’

He deliberately paused, allowing her comment to float around them for a few moments so that she could explain herself.

‘Are you surprised?’ she asked.

‘You demanded that Reynard not accuse you of being delusional. I have to wonder how you think you sound when you say something like you just did.’

‘I realise what I say is hard to grasp. It doesn’t mean I am delusional,’ she replied without hesitation. Her gaze was unswerving. ‘I’m far more sane than Reynard, who, by the way, is out of his mind with fear. Especially today because I am now closer to my goal than I have been in a very long time.’

‘Your goal. To leave Earth, you mean?’ he said, working at sounding reasonable. Yes, indeed, his skills definitely needed brushing up. This sort of interested tone used to come so easily.

‘Not Earth, Gabe. This world,’ she corrected.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘So your goal is to reach a point where you can exit this plane,’ he offered, believing that sounded catchy but also succinct.

‘Not reach a point, but the person who would take me away.’

‘Pardon,’ he said, more confused.

‘I’ve been looking for someone.’

‘And?’

‘I’ve found who I’ve searched for.’

‘Oh, good.’ Now he just sounded patronising. He wasn’t ready to dive back in like this. It made him feel and sound amateurish.

‘You don’t understand, do you?’

‘Explain it to me,’ he encouraged.

‘I’ve been looking for you , Gabe.’

He blinked with consternation. ‘For me?’ She nodded slowly. ‘But until yesterday you didn’t know me.’

‘When we met I knew it was you I had been seeking.’

‘Angelina, forgive me, but do you realise how odd this seems and why people are concerned about you?’

‘I cannot help that.’

‘Yes, but people like Reynard are trying to help.’

‘He’s using you.’

‘Why would that be?’

She smiled and just for a blink he sensed an old cunning.

‘Angelina?’ he prompted, waiting for her to explain.

She glanced toward the door. ‘Reynard is becoming impatient.’

He frowned. ‘I told him to wait.’

‘Any moment the phone will —’

The phone began to ring.

He looked at it startled, then back at Angelina, who was staring out of the window again as if lost in deep thought. He resisted answering it and finally the machine whirred into action. He listened to his automated message being politely trotted out, waited for the caller to speak. The line went dead.

‘He won’t let it be,’ she warned dreamily.

Gabe felt his mobile phone vibrate against his thigh. He ignored it. The main phone rang again. It sounded even more shrill, demanding his attention with an I know you’re in there! screech.

‘Excuse me,’ he said. He stood up and grabbed the receiver. ‘Hello?’ he said, sounding irritated.

‘Gabriel, this is Reynard.’

She turned to give him a slight ‘told you so’ glance and then immediately looked away.

‘Er, yes, Reynard. I thought we had an arrangement about being left quietly.’

‘It’s been forty-five minutes.’

‘I said at least three-quarters of an hour.’

‘I was worried.’

‘For whom?’

‘Are you finished?’

‘We are now. You interrupted us.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll let you in.’ He put the receiver down and walked over to the door to unlock it.

The man came in hesitantly. He gave a small embarrassed smile. ‘Well. How did it go?’

‘We’d barely begun,’ Gabe admitted. ‘I can’t just leap in, Reynard. I’m playing with someone’s life. It has to be approached with caution and a genuine regard for Angelina’s state of mind and what she wants to reveal at this stage.’

‘And what has she revealed?’ Reynard whispered.

‘Nothing I can give any credence to.’

‘It’s hard when she doesn’t speak, I know.’

Gabe shook his head. ‘There is nothing to tell and I must pay attention to her wishes and rights too. This is a therapist–patient session — or so it has turned into.’

‘What can you tell me?’ Reynard demanded.

‘She needs a sense of safety and to be around a therapist she trusts. I’m not sure anyone you’ve chosen so far is providing the confidence for her to open up.’ They walked over to Angelina, who was now ignoring both of them. ‘She’s an intelligent person and needs respect.’

‘Don’t lecture me, Gabriel,’ Reynard snapped. It was the first time Gabe had seen anything but the genial personality of the man. ‘We’re dealing with a girl who can’t express herself in —’

‘Wait. I’ll stop you there,’ Gabe said reasonably. ‘Reynard, you should know that Angelina has spoken to me.’

He watched the colour drain out of Reynard’s face.

Gabe continued. ‘She speaks as easily as you and I are conversing now.’

Angelina was dressing in her warm clothes as she stared outside, entirely unisinterested in the pair of them. He would be lying if he didn’t admit that he was hooked.

They were still standing by the door, blocking any run for freedom she might suddenly decide to make. ‘Reynard, why are you so scared of Angelina?’ he said, softly enough for their hearing only.

‘Scared?’ Reynard growled, cutting him an incredulous look.

Gabe realised he needed to temper his approach. ‘Perhaps I should say that you are overly anxious for her. Talking briefly with Angelina today she seems, um … “airy” for want of a better word, but not insane and certainly not dangerous.’

‘Then you are seeing a different Angelina. She believes herself threatened by some outward force and would rather kill herself than be hunted down.’

‘How has she told you this?’

‘She wrote it.’

‘Wrote it?’

‘Not once, Gabriel, but hundreds, thousands, maybe a million times. She wrote it on paper, her walls, her floors, her clothes, her skin! She even wrote it on a hamster, a pet of one of our patients at the clinic. She never stops writing it. The girl is unbalanced and definitely suicidal.’

Gabe shook his head, absolutely certain of what he was about to say. ‘She is not suicidal. I assure you.’

‘You have no —’

‘Reynard, you asked for my professional opinion and now you have it. What you do with it is your business. I have done what you asked. In my reckoning, Angelina is thinking clearly and not about death. However, she is moving in a world of her own. I don’t want to call her delusional because it smacks of crazy. She is convinced of a threat, but not the one you think, and she is no danger to herself, let me reiterate that.’