All Rights Reserved © 2018, Rick Haydn Horst
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This novel contains 50 chapters.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Just as the lunch rush began, and before the rain started, we grabbed a corner table near the window of a warm café, the tiny place filled within minutes. We preferred to sit rather than drift about waiting for someone to either follow us again or receive good news about the ring. Fortunately, the rain wouldn't hinder the drone. Little, short of a tornado or hurricane, would deter its programming.
It began sprinkling outside, and we could see the discoloration on the pavement in one-pound-coin-sized droplets. Big Ben's tower struck noon in the distance, as it began to pour rain upon the city. We watched as a colorful symphony of umbrellas burst open above the heads of pedestrians. For Londoners, the inconvenience of rain never deters them from their business; even I learned to cope with it well. Despite the city's reputation, the rain, typically a slow drizzle, fell infrequently upon London; that day, however, it poured. Over many years, London had witnessed more of the deluge sort, probably due to climate change.
Looking at the menu while ordering luncheon, I noted that several days had passed since I had eaten meat. I found myself not missing it. The chicken sandwich I ordered tasted fine, but I think I preferred Jiyū's typical fare. Earth restaurants had far less variety, despite all the various cuisines available. What they had was a wide range of flavors, which helped to disguise inferior quality food or enticed the consumer to disregard any thought of nutritional value, and often both. One could find nutritious food of excellent quality on Earth. As a rule, however, it must come from your own home, and only if you have concerned yourself with quality and nutrition, the two things many people couldn't afford.
A radical change had occurred in Aiden's eating habits since we first met; I suspected he ate whatever he found available. But I noticed he had begun to scrutinize his food with a more critical eye than he had at the hotel penthouse. He sat there glaring at the delicately cut piece of cod, skewered at the end of his fork.
"Any thoughts about Inspector Le Gal?" David asked as we ate.
"He could be as he seemed," Aiden said and began eating the fish.
"What do you think about that, Rick?"
I sipped some water. "I detected no indications that Le Gal lied. He seemed sincere and genuine, but then again, he could also be an excellent actor."
"Don't doubt yourself, Rick," said David. "I trust your judgment."
Pearce, who hadn't said much since he joined us, spoke up. "I don't trust him. His sudden appearance seems too convenient."
"The inspector searched for us through you," Aiden said to Pearce, "I do not doubt that. The other man following might have been a coincidence."
"Did I make a mistake rejecting Le Gal's help?" David asked.
"He knows he has to earn your trust," I said, "but how can he earn it if we give him no opportunity to do so? Do we not lump him into the same unworthy pile as the likes of Katheryn Elliott, in fearing to treat him as potentially trustworthy?"
"Most likely we, or rather I, did," David said, then looked at Aiden and myself, "So, do we agree that we will find
it
in London somewhere, as per Le Gal's information?"
Aiden and I both agreed, provided Le Gal wasn't lying or wrong. "I think his credentials give us cause for the benefit of the doubt," I said.
"What time will Maggie get home?" David asked me.
My eyes lit up. "About three o'clock," I said.
"We seem to have lots of time on our hands. We can go see Maggie when she gets home."
"I wish I had a phone to call her and leave her a message," I said.
Pearce placed a pay-as-you-go mobile on the table and slid it to me. "If you know the number, go ahead."
"That's kind of you, Pearce," I said, "thank you." I took the mobile and called her. I figured it would go to voicemail, but she picked up.
"Allô," she said.
"Hello, Maggie."
"Rick? Where are you?"
"I'm back in London. I know you're in school. I expected to get your voicemail."
"I have a lunch break now," she said. "I didn't think you would return so quickly. Did you --you know-- go there?"
"Oh yes, and it's amazing," I said. "I need to see you."
"That would be great," she said.
"How about three o'clock at your flat. There are four of us. Is that okay?"
"I will welcome any friend of yours, Rick. I'll see you then."
I never intended to force her into anything she hadn't wanted to do. When I invited her to join us, if she said
no
to me, even for no other reason than
because I don't want to
, I would have accepted that and moved on. I just wouldn't have wanted a financial obligation to her grandmother to cause her to deny herself the opportunity.
Aiden told us that we could look forward to intermittent rain for the next few days. It nearly stopped at about one o'clock, so we hurried as best we could. We couldn't take the subway due to the higher concentration of CCTV cameras, so we walked to Knightsbridge. It began to rain again halfway there, so we ducked into a market to wait it out, and it stopped altogether about fifteen minutes later. It took ninety minutes to get to Maggie's block of flats. We hung about in front until she arrived.
"Your flat is over there, isn't it?" Aiden asked me. "I thought I recognized the building."
"I chose it to live close to Maggie," I said.
"She must be a special woman," he said.
"She is," David said. "She's smart, funny, and she cares about people. She's one of us."
I smiled at David.
"So, where in London would we find the moldy old hovel?" I asked Aiden.
"City of London," he said.
"Well, that's pretty posh," said David. "Surely, you weren't living in a moldy old hovel there."
"You could call the area a bit posh," Aiden said, "but you'll find my flat in the least posh building there. It had lots of problems when I moved in, and mold grew in the plaster of every room. The flat remained unoccupied for some time. I had it refurbished, but that escalated into a major renovation when some of the plaster came down in the kitchen and baths, which caused my financial trouble. I never meant to imply I lived in Hackney or anything. As incomes go, I made good money, but keeping up a place like that will make you poor. The whole building needed renovation, and I paid a million before the flat's reno. I ended up with a flatmate to help with the bills, and things improved for several years. Then, when he ran off and got married, it put me back where I began."
Pearce stood there in his private little world, staring off into the distance. I had never seen anyone with the Foundational Enhancement that looked as bad as he did, even his skin seemed off-color. I wished we could do something, but I got the feeling that only time or the clinicians at the temple on Jiyū could help him.
"Are you okay, Pearce?" David asked.
He didn't seem to hear him, his face locked in a vacant expression. I could tell David worried, we all did, but only he knew Pearce's usual personality. Then suddenly, he snapped out of it and acted relatively okay again.
When Maggie arrived at her building, she ran to me, hugged me, and commented about my hair growing back. She wore a black wool cloak with an ivory silk lining. Beneath this, she wore her work clothes, a dress in her favorite shade of green. Its demure style seemed too stuffy for her, but appropriate for a teacher of sixteen-year-olds, however. She hugged David, who then introduced Aiden and Pearce.
She leaned into me, asking about Pearce, whispering, "Is he okay?"
"In time," I said.
Having accepted the invitation to come up, Maggie welcomed us into her flat. As a superlative hostess, she offered refreshments and a seat. Once Aiden made the necessary sweep of the flat for surveillance, we had a chat. I provided the eagerly awaited description of Jiyū and informed her of what had occurred since we saw her last. Only then, had I gotten to the heart of our visit.
"The instant you left Sunday, I regretted saying no," she said. "I want to go, and since then, I have searched for a solution should you return. I know you; I knew you would return. You looked so distraught and disappointed when you left, and I felt the same. I think of you as my older brother, and I love you; I want you in my life, but other than selling the flat, I don't know how to fix the problem."
"Don't worry about the flat," I said, "I didn't have the time to sell mine either. How much money do you send your grandmother? And can she handle money well?"
"Two hundred euros a month, and she's known for her frugality," she said.