Chapter 6

Matters rolled along quietly for several weeks. Carole worked five shifts a week at the Park Cafe. She settled in quickly – having been introduced by Kat, who had been very popular, helped – her naturally warm personality, released at last, and the normal camaraderie of the young staff; her enthusiasm and hard work ensured it. This was a big change for her, and she was happy, really, for the first time since infancy.

Sundays, while Kat, Harry and Aibhilin were deepening their relationships with their sylvan friends, Carole continued to attend Saint Jude’s, getting to know the people and usually sharing lunch with Rosie and Ted. There were evening meetings, too.

It was a typical January and February. Temperatures varied wildly, from below freezing, with snow on the ground for several days at a time, to relatively mild but damp and sometimes very wet weather. Business at the cafe thrived; cold, bright weather brought muffled-up families out for fresh air and hot chocolate. Snow brought toboggans, snowmen and snowball fights, with participants thawing out with hot drinks and comfort food.

Wet days brought the regulars, for whom no amount of weather was going to come between them and their coffee and their friends, for the cafe staff were friends to their customers. It brought the runners and walkers, for whom their regular exercise regime was too important to worry about cold or wet; they, too called in for drinks and, often, food, to sustain them. Then, there were the mums who just had to get themselves and their offspring out of the house for fresh air and a change of scene. To each of them, Carole, like the other staff, gave them greeting and cheerfully and efficiently provided the refreshment that was wanted.

Terry watched, pleased that his judgement had proved accurate. Indeed, he was very tempted to ask the girl for a date, but, sensibly, did not – she was going to be an asset to the business, and relationships between staff members were fraught with problems.

Kat, too, noticed that their guest was blossoming but also growing away from them. So, when one Friday evening, Carole came in very pensive and quiet, she knew that change was coming.

“Kat...”

“Yes, love?”

“Um...”

“Tell you what, let’s get tea out of the way, then we can talk, okay?”

Carole sighed, audibly, relieved not to have to face the conversation immediately. “Okay.”

Once tea was out of the way, and Aibhilin was in bed and asleep, they left Harry watching a documentary about conscientious objectors in the First World War – another, about witchcraft in the Middle Ages, they were saving until both he and Kat were able to watch it together – and sat in the kitchen.

Carole took a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking...” she sighed, “you’ve all been so good to me, you, Aibhilin, Harry, Clare, and Geoff. I was thinking about going back to Clare and Geoff, but...” she hesitated, “that’s further away from Saint Jude’s, and I’m getting more involved there, you see. Rose-Marie and Ted, they’ve asked if I’d like to stay with them...”

Kat watched her, smiling gently. “You won’t offend us, Carole, if you’re ready to leave. I’d hope you keep in touch, but as we keep saying, you have to find your own way.” They were silent together for a minute or so. “Tell you what, though, Carole, I may be able to help you to make up your mind without actually telling you what to do. Would you object to a bit of ‘magic’?”

“Oh, Kat – if I can’t trust you, I don’t know who I can trust!”

“Just a moment, then.” Kat left the kitchen for a few moments, returning with a couple of rush mats. “Come with me, love.”

It was a particularly nasty evening, not freezing, but raw with a fine drizzle, so Carole followed her out into the garden with some reluctance – neither of them were dressed for the outdoors, particularly at that time of year and in that weather.

In Kat’s stone circle, though, they stood in the centre, arms around each other. After several minutes, Carole realised that they were dry ... and comfortably warm. Kat pointed at the wooden bench-seat which was still wet, and handed her one of the rush mats.

“Sit down there, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

Carole obeyed, and Kat placed her mat in the centre of the circle, and sat on it in the lotus position. Carole watched her, wondering what she was doing, but a voice distracted her.

“Hello, Carole. It’s been a long time. You were tiny when I last saw you.”

She turned her head to see a man sitting next to her. In the gloom – the only ‘earthly’ light being from the house windows, of course – tall, spare, bearded, with long hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed in workman’s garb – lumberjack shirt and old jeans.

“Who are you?”

He smiled, and she realised that she could see him clearly, despite the lack of light. “You can call me Emmanuel.”

“Emmanuel.” She thought about the meetings with her friends from Saint Jude’s. “Emmanuel. God with us.”

“Very good! Gold star.” His expression wasn’t actually a smile. What was it? Compassion?

She watched his face, thinking. Somehow, his presence was comforting; she felt safe, even loved. “Why?”

“Your parents?”

“Yeah.”

“They were making the world a little better place for a few people.”

“Yeah, but...” she sniffed.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “There is no safe way, no easy way, in this life. Your parents love you – I say, ‘love you’, not ‘loved you’ - but they were soldiers in a War that has lasted millennia.”

Carole suddenly threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He in turn held her as she wept, bitterly. When she calmed, he continued to hold her until she pulled away. “Thank you,” she said.

“I love you,” he said.

“I know,” she said, with a watery smile. “And now I’ve met you, I love you, too.”

“It’s time for me to go, now. But there’s someone waiting to see you, so don’t go away.” He was gone, but two people stood in front of her, whom she recognised. She rose to her feet, slowly, unbelieving. “Mummy? Daddy?”

They stood, arms around each other’s waist, their free arms extended to their daughter. Suddenly, there was no gap between them. After an eternal moment, the woman spoke gently. “We’re so sorry you had to suffer as you did, darling. If we had known what was going to happen ... I mean, one knows that things happen, but...”

“It’s okay, Mum, Dad. It really is, now.”