Chapter 1: The Lost Girl

I can never quite remember what made me look in the shed, whether there had been a noise or a movement? I still can't say, but anyway I looked in the shed and found her, she looked to be about 17 to 18 years old, but the main impression I got was one of fear.

It was etched in her eyes. Scared about what I was going to do or say? I mean I know I looked angry, what was she doing here in the first place? Then I noticed her clothes, they were torn and ragged; she had large eyes that seemed to melt my heart.

I must describe myself, My name is John, I am 50 years old, male (of course), widower - my wife, Margaret, died of cancer a couple of years ago, but I still hear her voice at times, in fact it has been this that kept me sane, I know that sounds daft, a voice from my past keeping me alive, but that was true, when my wife died I started to drink and let myself go, I did intend to take some pills and end it all rather than carry on without her, and then I heard her voice saying 'don't be so bloody stupid!'

It was the type of thing she would say to me, I considered my actions and realised that 'she' was right, life must go on, so I sobered myself up and returned to work, much to the amazement of my boss, who had really though he'd seen the last of me.

I kept on working, able to do the longer hours that the job demanded at times, until they decided that I could do most of the work at home, I work on computer software, I'm not a genius but I'm able to produce what the customer wants and quicker than others can produce it.

So I'm paid now to work away when I want to, and without punching a clock - Although the boss still expects me to be available when he needs me — and this explains why I was at home at this time.

As I looked at the girl who was trying to hide from my gaze, I heard my wife's voice saying, 'you're scaring her John, why can't you see that?'

I could see a curious look on the girl's face, I suppose I must have spoken out loud; I opened the shed door wide and said.

"Don't worry. I was just concerned; do you want to come into the house?" I pointed to the back door, she seemed to consider this, and she wasn't looking at me but seemed to be concentrating at a space beside me.

"..." She said, in some strange language, well I didn't understand it, but she extended her hand to me, and allowed me to pull her to her feet, she was light and, to be frank, smelt as if she'd been in her clothes for several days.

'Possibly an illegal immigrant' I thought to myself, 'smuggled herself on a lorry and managed to get out here.' I did wonder as to where the rest of her friends might be? Or at least the rest of her family?

"..." Again she spoke in that strange language, and then my wife's voice said, 'you know she should really have a bath!' In a way I was shocked at my subconscious, suggesting such a thing! I should really turn her over to the police; they'd be able to look after her.

I felt her hands clutching at my arms; she was starting to look scared. How could I do it to her, I mean what would happen to her? She'd be returned home, maybe to her family? Or maybe to be killed? I decided to wait for a while, I shouldn't have - I know.

We entered my house, she looked around the kitchen and started to go the fruit that was in a bowl, but then she looked at her hands, and the dirt that covered them, she looked around in confusion, I took her to the sink, she just stood there waiting for something. Maybe she wasn't an immigrant, but just a simpleton who'd run away from some hospital? But there hadn't been anything on the news.

I turned on the taps and let the water flow into a bowl, allowing the mixture to get nicely warm, not hot. I turned the taps off.

While she was looking at the water I took a bar of soap and handed it to her, she looked at the bar in her hand, trying to work out what it was!

'She's never seen soap before!' My wife's voice said, 'show her!'

The girl looked at me, I could read questions in her eyes, and so I smiled at her.

"Okay," I said, "This is what you do." And taking her hands in mine I pushed them into the warm water and then rubbed the bar of soap between her hands, building up the lather, she laughed at this, but when I dipped her hands in the water she could see how clean they now were. I removed my hands, and dried them on a towel. I was happy to see that she was now washing her arms as well as her hands.

When she was happy that her hands were clean she started to raise them, but then realised that they were still wet, she reached out and took the towel from my hand and started to dry herself off.

"..." She said again as she handed me back the towel.

"You're welcomed." I said, hoping that she had said 'thank you', but I still couldn't place the language, she went to the fruit bowl and reached for an apple, but before taking one she looked at me, for permission?

"Yes, you can take some." I said, nodding my head, she smiled at me and picked one up, she examined it as if she'd never seen such a thing before, then she bit into the flesh of the apple, the juice springing out as her teeth took hold, she chewed the morsel for a few minutes, as if savouring the taste and swallowed it, her smile widened and she quickly demolished the apple, even eating the core.

"..." She said again, pointing to the bowl.

"You want another one?" I asked she just looked at me; obviously her knowledge of my words was the same as mine to hers. I picked up another apple and offered it to her.

She nodded and accepted the fruit, which she ate with the same gusto as the previous one.

'John.' My wife's voice again, 'She should really clean herself up, I think there's some clothes in the bedroom that will fit her, and she should have a bath, she needs to wash herself!'

I nodded to the words, I looked at the girl — she seemed to be listening to something, almost as if she heard my wife as well, but that was ridiculous, I knew my wife was dead and that 'her voice' was just my subconscious making itself known.

I didn't know how to approach the problem, I couldn't speak her language and she didn't understand mine. So I went up to her and sniffed, then held my nose, she giggled but just pulled at her clothes, I nodded and then pointed to her face and legs, shaking my head then to her hands and arms and nodded my head.

Her mouth went into a wide 'O' of realisation, she went to go to the sink again, but I stopped her shaking my head, she pointed to the tap and gestured, I pointed upwards, she looked at the ceiling and shook her head, I went to the stairs beckoning her to follow me.

Cautiously she followed, I walked ahead of her, trying to show that I wasn't planning on hurting her, but she seemed to trust me, she glanced into the other rooms as she walked along the landing, I opened the door to the bathroom, she looked in seeing the wash basin, the bath and the toilet.

I turned on the bath taps, adding some bubble bath that my wife used to like, I hadn't really wanted to use it before, but it was something that might appeal to the girl. As soon as the bath had enough water in it, I made sure that it was nicely hot, but not scalding, I gestured to it and then the towels hanging on the side of the radiator.

"I'll try to find you some other clothes to wear." I said, forgetting again that she didn't understand what I was saying.

As I was looking through my wife's clothes I pondered this enigma that I had been presented with. Even an immigrant would know what a tap was, not to mention soap, but she was acting as if they were strange to her. She wasn't retarded, her quick grasp of the towel was proof of that; she had seen me using the towel to dry my hands and just accepted that was what it was for. Where was she from?

I'd got a dress sorted out and was going to place it by the bathroom door when my 'wife' said, 'what about underwear? Or do you expect her to be naked under the dress?'

I hesitated, 'she' was right, I knew it, but I was awkward about rummaging around women's underwear, I suppose I should have thrown her clothes out beforehand, but I just couldn't bear the thought of severing any links with her. I found a pair of panties that might fit the girl, I then realised that I hadn't even looked at her body, what size were her breasts? Would my wife's bras fit her? Would she even wear a bra?

I decided to leave the bra behind, if she wanted one she could look one out herself, but how I was to tell her this I didn't know.

I went to the bathroom door and knocked on it, there was no reply from inside so I slowly opened it. She was laying back in the bath smiling at me as I entered, I showed her the clothes I'd found for her and then started to look for her old clothes, so that I could either wash them, or throw them away, but couldn't see them anywhere.

She watched me looking around, not understanding what I was doing, I pointed to the clothes and then at her, tilting my head in an attempt to ask, 'where are your old clothes?'

She giggled at me and then got up, I went to turn around to preserve her modesty, but realised that there was fabric between us, I stopped and looked at her, she was still wearing her clothes.

How do I tell her? I mean we didn't understand each other and if I tried to remove them from her she might think I was attacking her, I really wished my wife was still with me, she'd be able to help the girl without any problem.

'I think she'll know what is wrong' said my wife's voice, 'just give her a few minutes.' And sure enough the girl started to move her hands to the buttons on her dress and started to undo them, I went to move out of the room, but her voice called me back.

" ... Please!" she said, I turned in amazement, her arms were reaching to me as if to stop me from leaving.

"I shouldn't be with you if you're not dressed." I said, I was rapidly getting out of my depth, perhaps it would be better to hand her over to the authorities

"Please." She said again shaking her head, it was almost as if she knew what I was thinking, but how could she? I just stood there as she removed her dress, I saw her small breasts and realised that none of my wife's bras would have fitted her. I shook my head, what was I thinking of? I quickly picked up the wet dress and took the offered panties, without trying to look at her body as she did this.

I heard the sound of water swirling around and knew that she had settled back into the bath, I turned around and, yes, she was lying back in the water smiling.

"I'll be downstairs when you've finished." I knew she didn't understand me but I was trying to reassure her. I went back to the kitchen and opened the washing machine, where I deposited the dress and panties.

I left the machine to carry on with the washing, and I returned to my work, putting a sales database together for a local builders merchants, not hard work but tedious and it had to be right, oh I knew my boss would settle for adequate, but I wouldn't!

A noise from the kitchen disturbed me; I thought it was my visitor, so I walked into the room. Where a strong arm grabbed me from behind! I felt the blade of a knife touching my throat.

"Where. Girl?" a feminine voice grated into my ear, "She was in small house. But I tracked her here! Where. She?"

"..." Came from the doorway, and the arm was released, I turned to see a well formed Amazon, it was the only term to use with her, who approached the young girl, who was frowning at her.

They started talking with each other, obviously an argument was in progress, with the Amazon pointing to the shed, and the young girl shaking her head and pointing to the clothes she was now wearing, finally the argument was over the Amazon hung her head and turned to me.

"'m Sorry. 'm shouldn't have attacked without 'rmission. 'm worried 'bout..." I could just about understand her words except for the last piece, I though about my reply.

"I accept your apology. The shed was not a safe place to hide, and she was hungry." This reminded me, she'd only eaten a couple of apples, and if she was still hungry how was her 'bodyguard'? "I was going to cook a meal, do you want something?"

Her eyes grew large at my suggestion, she turned to the girl and another incomprehensible conversation ensued. After another few minutes the young girl nodded.

"Please..." She said I looked at my attacker; she saw the puzzlement on my face and spoke again to the Amazon.

" ... she says, 'that be nice', she says 'you no need help her!" Her face was neutral as she said this.

I smiled at the young girl, "But I thought she needed help, she certainly needed new clothes, and she'd been in hers too long. Anyway what are your names? And please can you make them understandable for me."

Again the two started to speak together,

"Sir, I being named Genius, I's protector of Brenda, we's hiding from bad men who's hunting us. I's told her's to remain in small house, no to be seen, please sir no turn us away, we's only stay a day then we's go." Genius looked at me a pleading look in her eyes.

I looked at Brenda, she too was nodding, "Please, please." She said

"Alright." I said, "You can both stay, I've got a spare bedroom."

Genius immediately stood in front of Brenda, blocking her from me; she was now scowling. "You's no touching Brenda, I's protector!" she was flexing her muscles preparing to defend her charge against me.

I held up my hands in front of me, "I'm not going to do anything to Brenda, for one thing she's too young for me, and for another I already love another too much to stray." I told her. Genius looked into my eyes, weighing up my words, and then she nodded and moved away from Brenda, who approached me and took my hand.

"..." She said, I looked at Genius who translated.

"She's says — you loved her greatly, you's still listen to her's when her speaks, her's very pretty and her's still loves you — As she's says this I listen to her and 'gree."

I started to smile at the words, and then I realised what was said, I still listen to my wife? She IS pretty and still loves me? My head started to spin...

I found myself on the floor of the kitchen; I heard my wife's voice again.

"You didn't have to frighten him you know." It, she was saying, "He's been through a lot, I only give him occasional nudges, and he didn't have to know I was here."

Brenda started to talk away and then 'my wife's' voice spoke again, "This is a different world to yours and the rules are different here! I shouldn't be known to be here, that's why I only spoke to him on occasions, but I knew he would help you and that's why I sent him out to you." She said.

"Margaret?" I said quietly.

"Yes John, I'm here!" She said simply.

"Oh love, I'm sorry." I said and she laughed.

"I'm the one who's sorry love, I didn't want to leave you and when I did, I couldn't keep away from you, I wanted to tell you but I'm not allowed to." My, dead, wife told me.

"Not allowed to by whom?" I had to ask, why couldn't she have spoken plainly? Why did she have to remain hidden? There was much I had to know.

A mist developed and then I saw my wife of so many years, years of happiness and some sorrow as well, but then no life is perfect, standing before me dressed in her favourite skirt and blouse, she smiled at me. "Hello John, you're looking well, but then you always did." She said to me.

I reached out to touch her hand ... and found nothing! Not even a 'ghost' of a touch. "But you're not here!" I said to her,

Margaret shook her head, "No John, I'm not here as such, I'm not sure I can explain it either, think of it as just being a few seconds in front of you, I can be as close as your hair but would never be able to touch you ... And I'm forbidden to even do this unless you are made aware of it." She turned to Brenda and Genius, "For which I thank you, but for now I have to..." And she disappeared from my sight again.

"Margaret!" I called out to my wife but heard nothing.

"Her's resting. It takes so much... (A word I couldn't understand) to keep visible. Her's tired." Genius said.

I looked at the picture of Margaret and began crying. There was a soft touch on my head and found that Brenda was stroking my hair. "I'm sorry I know I'm weak..." I said

"... !" Brenda said and Genius told me,

"You's no weak, you's kind man! You's love her!" She said and her eyes showed puzzlement in that statement.

I wiped my eyes and went to the fridge to get out something to cook, I didn't have too much, as a single man I didn't really eat as I should do. I found some chicken pieces in the freezer and put them in the microwave to defrost.

"What you do?" Genius asked.

I smiled, "Well the chicken is frozen and so I've got to defrost it to be able to cook it properly." I explained.

Genius looked around, "How frozen? It warm here!" she said.

"This is a freezer; it cools meat and vegetables down to near zero, that way it keeps longer." I said and took a piece of chicken from the freezer and handed it to Genius.

She held it for a second before dropping it onto the table. "It burn me!" she said accusingly and then looked at it she raised the knife and was about to stab the meat but Brenda stopped her.

"... !" She said in that incomprehensible tongue.

Genius touched the meat again and then looked at me. "You's make this cold?" She said

I shook my head, "No, it's the freezer that does it, I know there's some gas running through the pipes that cools down the air inside the container, but I don't know what type." I said.

Genius frowned, "Magic?" She asked.

Again I almost laughed but remembered Brenda's approach to cleaning, "No, not magic, but science, like the microwave and the lights." I said turning on the florescent tube above us. The flash of the tube warming up at first made Brenda scream in fear and then there was an explosion of glass when Genius' knife slammed through it.

"Why did you do that?" I asked her shaking my head to dislodge any glass that might have be in it.

"You no bring lightening down on us?" Genius asked.

I looked at her and shook my head, "No, that was just the starter cam for the tube, it flashes like that to allow the gas in the tube to heat up and create the light." I said as I looked for a dustpan and brush to sweep up the glass.

I saw Genius bend down to pick up a large piece of glass. "Don't touch that, it's going to be..." I started to say but was too late as Genius cut her hand on the glass. "Come over here and let me clean it off." I said reaching to Genius.

She warily allowed me to take her bleeding hand to the sink where I began putting warm water into a bowl, adding some disinfectant. Then I took a piece of cotton wool and dipped it into the mixture, gently dabbing at the cut.

"Is no needed!" Genius said as she tried to pull her hand away.

"Nonsense, I mean you may need to have it ... good grief! You're hand's healing!" I said amazed.

"Does!" She said, "Part of my person." She added as if this explained everything. While this was happening, without any help from me, the hand completed healing. She looked at me. "Why you worry?" She asked.

I had to sit down, "But to heal like that ... it's not natural!" I said weakly.

"..." Brenda said in her incomprehensible language.

Genius nodded to her, "With me. It natural ... it part of me and fixes when broken!" She said as if this explained everything then she pointed to light, "Tell me how light worked." She said

"Well I'd need to explain about electricity, and the various gasses that they use, but I couldn't explain every part of them." I said finally.

Genius nodded, "Is same with me. I know I heal but no able to say why." She said.

I nodded in understanding, "I see, it works but you don't have the words to explain how." I said

She laughed, "I's certainly no know enough to explain." She said and then bowed to me before going back to Brenda. At the same time the microwave 'pinged', Genius turned to throw a knife at the machine when Brenda stopped her.

I prepared the stock and found I was being watched by Genius who kept on wanting to know what was being added and why. She seemed to accept what I was telling her because she didn't make any complaint.

I then started work on the vegetables, before putting them into a cooking pot, and then I poured in the stock. I took the meat out of the microwave and began cutting it up into cubes, putting them into the pot along with the vegetables and stock, I put the pot into the oven and left it cooking when I went back to the table.

"I've got some work to finish off, so while the food's cooking I suggest you relax in the living room and watch some television." I said and then I saw Genius frowning, "It's a box that shows..." I couldn't think what to call them, "plays." I finished saying.

I showed the pair into the room and turned on the T.V., and then I went to the room I used as a study to concentrate on the spreadsheet, but I have to admit that I couldn't concentrate on it as I should have done, saving what I'd created I then went to the desktop and opened up an on-line dictionary.

Genius —

1.

somebody with outstanding talent: somebody with exceptional ability, especially somebody whose intellectual or creative achievements gain worldwide recognition

2.

outstanding talent: exceptional intellectual or creative ability

3.

somebody with specific skill: a person with great specialized skill

· a genius with computers

4.

or (plural genii [jni ī]) quality: a special quality that characterizes a place, period, or people

5.

or (plural genii) guardian spirit: in Roman mythology, a guardian spirit of a person, place, or institution

6.

or (plural genii) demon: a supposed demon or supernatural being

I didn't understand most of that but filed it away; I took another look at the spreadsheet and decided to give it up as a bad job for the time being. I pottered around with a card game and then decided to check on the dinner.

I called them into the kitchen where I had plates out for the food, I put more onto Brenda and Genius' plates than mine and handed them the cutlery, and they picked up the utensils in curiosity, "What this?" Genius asked holding the fork, "it like trident but smaller!"

"It's made to spear the food and so you can put it in your mouth." I said showing them, Brenda tried to follow my example but Genius stopped her and spoke in her language.

I watched as Genius tried various pieces of Brenda's food before she nodded to her, "'orry but me's got to test." Genius said looking at me, after Brenda had spoken to her.

"What she's eating is the same as we're eating, if there was anything in it I would have suffered as well." I said wondering just who I was talking to. A bodyguard or food taster?

The rest of the dinner went without problems.

I went with the two of them to the living room where the television was still on; Brenda pointed to the screen and then asked a question, I looked at Genius who translated. "Brenda asks how people get so small to fit on stage." She said. I couldn't help it, I had to laugh. "Is no funny? Want to know!" Genius said sounding annoyed.