A derisive snort brought Patricia back to the present, unaware that at that very moment her life was already starting to change…

“Oof!” Vincent steadied the child, at the same time catching his breath and grinning down at her he asked, “Okay, where’s the fire?” Sheepishly Rachel looked up into his wondrous blue eyes and grinned while sparing a moment to look behind.

“Is someone chasing you?” Looking up and beyond into the sparsely lit tunnel from where she had just run Vincent could see no one, but detected someone was there.

“Who’s there?” He asked, aware that whoever it was meant his adoptive daughter no harm.

“Me.”

“Who’s me?” He asked knowing at once that it was the newest member of their community, another child who had found favour with his wife and on joining their family had become Rachel’s sister.

“Michelle.” Came the timid reply.

“Why were you running?” Vincent asked a little concerned now. “You know that we never run unless there is an emergency. You could have tripped someone.”

“Like Father you mean, Vincent?” Michelle came into view now that she was beginning to feel easier. Despite his lion like appearance Michelle was quickly learning that Vincent was no more ferocious than a lamb.

“Yes like Father. Or like William carrying a tray of scalding tea. How would you have liked that upon your head?”

“I’m sorry, Vincent.” Michelle murmured.

“So why were you running?” He exasperated feeling very much like he was going around in circles.

“Because Mummy is throwing her clothes away.” Rachel told him, as if that answered all his questions spoken and unspoken.

“Oh, that’s a good a reason as any.” He smiled warmly causing his eyes to dance just the way that Rachel liked to see them. “Then I’d best not stand in your way.” He side-stepped to the tunnel wall allowing the two children access into his chamber, but rather than continue on his way to Father’s chamber as had been his intention he followed them back into his own.

“Go…stay…go…stay…go…stay…” Vincent smiled as his wife tugged clothing from boxes, suitcases and drawers where she had first stored them on her arrival to the tunnels over two years ago. In fact it had been the mounting piles of clothing that had sent him to Father’s chamber in the beginning feeling very much like he was being ousted from his own quarters as Catherine’s ‘go’ pile soon exceeded the ‘stay’.

Two pairs of tiny feet halted Catherine with her hands in mid flow as she noticed them standing before the ever-increasing pile. She looked up and her face was wreathed in smiles as she had recognised the footwear worn by her two adoptive daughters.

“Can I get you two something?” She drew herself up with the intention of standing, laughing out loud when Rachel told her, “Stay there, Mummy, don’t try to get up.” Making her feel awfully old all of the sudden. Over the tops of two bonny heads, Catherine’s eyes met those of her husband’s finding him grinning from ear to ear understanding her feelings through their wonderful Bond.

“Mary said you were throwing your clothes away?” Rachel asked eyeing the piles of clothing critically.

“Well not exactly. These clothes are far too inappropriate for tunnel wear and taking up far more space than is necessary.” ‘Especially since Michelle has joined us’ she added under her breath. Once Vincent’s chamber had just been for him, now he was sharing it with a growing family. ‘Without complaint’ she had to admit, but since it took him longer to find anything of his own these days, she thought she better act and not keep saving things for sentimental sake.

“Where are you taking them?”

“Well not down here. I’ve asked around and though the material can be used, most of the ladies living below feel that it would be a terrible waste to cut up these satin gowns and camisoles. So Uncle Peter is going to take them above to sell and bring the money back down to Father, so that he might be able to purchase whatever we do need instead.”

“But not this?” With loving fingers Rachel stroked the bright orange Duffel coat almost with reverence, “You’re not throwing this out are you?”

“Well to be honest I hadn’t decided, it does take up a lot of room. And it does make me stand out like a sore thumb wearing it down here. I thought I may as well part with it.”

“No!”

Catherine stared at Rachel her heart breaking to see the tears on the child’s lashes and her lips trembling as she began to cry. “What is it sweetheart? Tell me?” Instantly Vincent was at Catherine’s side, joining her down on the floor, his face level with the two children, his eyes appealing for them to tell he and his wife what was the problem.

Rachel shook her head, finding it hard to say. Instead she murmured, “Can I keep it?”

“Oh but where?” Catherine began.

“I can throw it over my bed, it’ll keep me warm.”

Catherine could have argued against that. The coat would fetch a good sum of money above, but it seemed so important to Rachel that she keep it.

“Please?” Rachel swallowed hard causing Catherine to draw her brows together. It was the first time that Rachel had been so adamant about anything since Michelle had tried to take away her cuddly lion. The one that Catherine had bought her that day she had first visited Rachel at the children’s home.

As Catherine remembered that time, as she so often did, she began to realise why the orange coat meant so much to Rachel. It had been the one she had worn that first day, and the one she had worn all the days until she had brought Rachel to live beneath the streets of Manhattan to the secret world Below.

“Of course you can keep it, sweetheart.” Catherine drew Rachel against her hugging her hard, pulling Michelle in for a share of her love, even as Vincent enfolded the three within his large embrace.

“I love you Mummy, Daddy.” Rachel told them hugging them back her tears dry now that her eyes were shining with pleasure.

“Is there anything that you would like to keep, Michelle?” Catherine asked her new daughter.

Michelle shook her head picking up instead a beautiful satin gown in pale lilac, surprising both Catherine and Vincent when she said, “No, but this looks expensive. Can I have whatever money it brings?”

Exchanging glances, Vincent and Catherine stared open mouthed at Michelle, quite lost for words. All the children earned pocket money in the tunnels, not much but enough to buy them a few pleasures. But this gown would bring in hundreds of dollars, money that could be used to a far greater degree in the hands of someone that would spend it and administer the purchased goods in the right way.

“That’s an awful lot of money Michelle. Can you tell me why you need it?” Catherine asked gently.

Vehemently Michelle shook her head. “Can I have it?” She asked again, setting up a gentle tug of war as Catherine held on to the gown.

A predicament settled around the family. They hadn’t faced anything like it before and they were at a loss to know how to deal with it. It also concerned the two adults greatly as each wondered why their new daughter would want such a vast sum of money, and obviously very much so if the way she was holding onto the gown was anything to go by.

“All right.” Catherine spoke at length, not seeing another way out for the moment, “But on condition…”

Guarded Michelle eyed her mother speculatively, wondering about those conditions. She said nothing just waited for Catherine to continue.

…”That you…” Lost for words Catherine could not go on. She had so many conditions she wanted to impose, but Michelle being so new to the tunnels and still learning to trust them and they in turn still learning to understand her, decided that each condition could to be too burdensome for one so young.

“It doesn’t matter.” She finished lamely. “I’ll ask Uncle Peter to try to get a good price for it okay honey?”

Michelle started to smile then, relieved that no conditions were forthcoming. For one horrible moment she thought that she would be made to tell why she needed so much money. And she could never tell them that, the same way that she could never call them Mummy and Daddy as Rachel did so readily now. And neither would these people that she lived with beneath the city streets ever be her family, and never would Rachel ever be her sister…although that last hurt a bit. For Michelle was beginning to love Rachel like the sister she had always wanted but had never had.

Almost as quickly as they arrived the two girls left the chamber arm in arm and in a flurry of excited chatter. Catherine stood up, helped to her feet by Vincent who had stood up moments before. “I wonder why Michelle wants the money?” Vincent asked.

“I don’t know Vincent. It worries me. That’s a lot of money for a girl her age to stuff under the mattress.”

“Assuming it gets that far.” Vincent spoke softly rubbing his wife’s aching back. He knew through their connection that she had been bending too long.

“I wish we knew more about her, Vincent. With Rachel it was relatively easy, having her case records at hand, but since I ceased working as a district attorney, any rights I once may have had to pull strings and inspect files has long since been denied me. And Peter will reveal nothing of her past.” She sighed knowing she had already said too much and what was to come.

“The price you pay for living down here with me.” Vincent mumbled sadly against the top of her head where he rested his chin.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Catherine told him adamantly “You know that Vincent.”

“Maybe Joe…” He ventured unwilling to go down that old famous road with her. He knew she would never agree with him over his claims anyway.

“Yes, maybe Joe could help.” Even so Catherine didn’t sound too convinced of this. Vincent knew it was because Joe had been very busy ever since John Moreno had been taken ill and hospitalised and he’d been carrying the workload of two men. Just as well they had replaced Catherine, he thought.

“And maybe it’ll solve itself. You know Catherine many children have come and gone over the years through these tunnels. We have always found that time, love and patience has given them confidence to speak of secrets they once may never have told a soul. Perhaps that’s all we should have need of my love…patience. Michelle will tell us in her own time. Or maybe she will tell Rachel.”

“Mmm, perhaps. It may be a bit much to expect Rachel to shoulder any kind of responsibility Vincent, especially secrets. You know how she is with them?”

He did know. He remembered only too well how the very word would conjure up all kinds of horrors for the young girl. Her stepfather had used the word many times to cover up things that he had done to her. Things that the pair of them never wanted Rachel to be reminded of. Yet they had done so over the past few months as Rachel’s nightmares had brought them face to face with it, and love for her had helped them to reach out to and help her forget those atrocities that she had once borne in silence.

“We’ll just have to wait Vincent. Maybe Michelle will tell us in time. Until then I think that whatever she thinks she needs the money for was very real to her. Did you see her eyes? I don’t think I have ever seen her so nervous as she waited for my answer, and if we employ anyone’s help in this and she finds out, she may never trust us at all. You’re right, Vincent we need patience on this one, and time however long it takes. Frankly though I hope we don’t have to wait too long. This whole thing worries me.”

Vincent hugged her tight, instilling his love to her via their connection, and she did feel better as she felt it flow through her. It was amazing how each of them could do that for the other one.

“So then.” Catherine stepped away from him reluctantly as she remembered what she had been doing, “I’d best get this job finished or we might never get to our beds tonight. Want to help me?” She teased him knowing full well that he did not, simply every time he picked up one of her lacy sets of underwear he found other things to do with her springing to mind and then they never got anything else done that day.

Vincent blushed, as Catherine had known he would, and taking pity on him, she kissed his furry nose before telling him, “Weren’t you going to see Father?”

“What? Oh yes. Yes I was. I’ll see you later then Catherine, are you sure you don’t need my help?”

Catherine almost laughed at the hopeful expectation of her refusal became apparent in his tone, “No of course not. I can manage.” They exchanged knowing smiles, and a warm kiss before moving away to get on with their respective jobs. And Vincent smiled for as he moved away from the chamber he heard Catherine resume her chanting of ‘go…stay….go…stay…go…’ as she continued to sort out her clothes.

From storm laden skies the rain fell in a steady stream, a rhythmic sound that provided a soothing backdrop to the thoughts of the two people that looked without seeing past the rivulets of water cascading down the window panes through to the sodden grass and rain flattened flowers outside.

For two whole days it had rained without letup, casting sullen gloom over the inhabitants of Hunters Creek Nursing Home, forcing them to stay inside the complex.

And as the sound of the heavy rain against the windows penetrated her thoughts, Bliss Jamesonon exhaled a deep sigh that touched the otherwise quiet atmosphere of her room. Casting her vivid blue eyes away from the outside world Bliss’s gaze fell upon her son who was sitting upon the side of the bed, his chin propped against the window sill, his countenance reminiscent of someone with a heavy weight upon his shoulders. Looking sideways back to the window again, Bliss told her son wistfully, “If only they would let me out of here.”

Lifting his head, her son looked up at her, a concerned expression crossing his rugged features, and not understanding for the moment, spoke in a soft velvety voice, “You’d get soaked out there Mama, and probably catch your death.”

Bliss looked back at him, “I don’t just mean for today Georgie, I mean I wish I could leave here for good.” Then as she directed her eyes back to the outside world, she went on quietly, “I was getting so close Georgie. I could feel it here.” Turning she touched the region of her heart with one slender hand, before continuing, “He’s out there somewhere Georgie, I know it. He’s alive and well, and being cared for by someone good, I am certain of it.” Her voice trailed away, as her thoughts took over and her son barely heard her when she whispered, “Oh Frankie, if only I could see you again before I die.”

Startled, Georgie turned his head sharply, “Don’t talk like that Mama, or is there something that you haven’t told me?”

His mother turned those vivid blue eyes back to regard her son, and she looked at him hard, trying to read the expression upon his face. He looked worried, and she realised what he was thinking, “Oh no, Georgie, no,” she reassured him, “That’s not what I meant at all. I’m not ill.” She saw her son relax and went on. “It was just an expression of speech that’s all Georgie.” She sighed deeply before turning back to the rain drenched world. “Its just that for almost thirty-five years I have searched, and I have come so close, and now this.” She gestured around the room with one arm, “they think I’m nuts Georgie, they think they should lock me away for the safety of others.” She laughed derisively. “As if.” and gave a little giggle, until the laughter died away and once again the enormity of her plight took hold and tears gathered and fell from her beautiful eyes.

Georgie stood up, coming to stand in front of her, extracted a large blue handkerchief from his pocket and pushed it into her hand before putting his arms around her, “Don’t cry Mama, they can’t keep you here forever.”

Bliss sniffed back her tears; “they can you know.” She told him seriously, “as long as I maintain that he exists, they will think I am crazy, and how can I possibly deny his existence when it is the truth? To deny him, would be to deny myself of something I have lived for all those years. It would be such a waste.”

“Maybe not Mama, it might seem so, but if you stand any chance at all of convincing these people that you aren’t crazy, then you have to tell them that you no longer harbour these thoughts.”

Bliss looked at her son in surprise, “Tell them I made it all up!” She cried, “How can I do that? Georgie, he’s real you know that!”

Her son sighed, “I only know what you have led me to believe Mama.” He told her quietly. She gasped but before she could reply, he went on, “don’t despair Mama, I do believe you, besides...” he added somewhat wistfully, “I too feel it in here.” And he too gestured to his heart.

Bliss leaned her face into the solid warmth of her son, before turning it up towards his, “He’s your brother Georgie, your twin, and twins have a special affinity with one another. You were together before you were born and for one day afterward. It was enough to connect you, and you must let that feeling guide you now while I am shut away in here. You will continue the search won’t you Georgie? I can rely on you can’t I?”

Her son patted her shoulders, and kissed the tip of her nose, telling her softly, “You can count on me Mama, I won’t let you down.”

Bliss sighed with relief, yet her son’s safety was also paramount and she told him, “You must promise me that you will avoid the authorities, you mustn’t say too much to people, you will promise me that won’t you Georgie?” Concern tainted her otherwise soft features.

“In case they lock me up too.” He teased, immediately sorry when she reprimanded him, “Its not funny Georgie. It’s a very real possibility. You must keep his identity to yourself.”

“Isn’t that what I was saying to you Mama? Oh I know the importance of finding him, but Mama, while you maintain his existence they’ll keep you locked away here. Better to let them think you are cured of whatever madness suddenly possessed you to speak of him, and then you will be free. Surely a small lie wouldn’t hurt, not when the alternative is freedom.”

Bliss sighed, “I don’t know Georgie, I’ve never told a lie in my life. You know how I feel about lying.”

“That may be so, Mama, but do they believe you now?”

“About Frankie?”

“Yes Mama, about Frankie. Well do they?”

Bliss looked away, back out to the extensive gardens outside, where slender daffodils bashed relentlessly by the rain, were still trying to hold their heads erect with pride against the storm, and suddenly Bliss felt like one of them, “No they don’t. They don’t believe me. They think I am lying, or that I am nuts, but I’m not nuts Georgie. Your brother does exist, and yes Georgie, you are right, whatever it takes, even if it comes down to telling my first lie, I have to tell it in order to get out of here.”

“That’s the fighting spirit Mama. I thought you had lost it.” Her son hugged her fiercely.

Bliss laughed, “Never. I just lost sight of it for a while that’s all. I’m getting out of here Georgie, you mark my words and together we can continue this search. In the meantime....”

Georgie smiled, “You want me to go it alone?”

“Am I so obvious?” Bliss laughed, “Only until I can join you. Georgie, I came so close. Look let me show you what I was working on before I was forced to come here.” Turning away from the window, Bliss crossed to the other side of the small room. It was only large enough to hold one small divan, a wardrobe, and a chest of drawers, as meals were taken in the community dining room and four people shared a bathroom.

Bending to the bottom drawer, Bliss opened it and extracted a leather bound journal, tan in colour with gold braiding. The pages bulged from out of one side, from where Bliss had added pages to it over the years, rather than buy more journals. “This holds everything of my search Georgie. There’s thirty-five years packed inside this journal. Many times I drew a blank when the trail went cold, but just lately Georgie, I have been following various reports in the newspapers, which all seem to hold to a set pattern, and all of them involve the same woman.” Going back towards the window, Bliss sat at the edge of her bed by the window, and opened the journal, “Come sit beside me Georgie, and see what I have found.”

From the journal Georgie watched as his mother pulled out several neatly folded newspaper clippings and smoothed them upon her lap. From the heading, Georgie could already see that most were of similar content. Time and time again, his mother pointed to the headlines and Georgie could only nod in agreement, although deep inside he was feeling quite sick. Surely this could not be his brother?

One after the other the headlines spoke of mystery killings. Victims seemingly mauled by a lion. And every time, the one name that cropped up repeatedly was Catherine Chandler, Assistant District Attorney.

This is where you must start Georgie.” Bliss pointed to the name, “With this woman. She knows something, I’m certain of it. You know what I think?”

Georgie smiled at his mother, knowing how she loved a good mystery, startled by her next words, “I think this woman and my Frankie are connected somehow. Maybe they are in love, I don’t know, but what I do know is, that whenever this woman places herself in danger, this...” Bliss struggled for the right words before continuing, “this...being, comes to her rescue.”

“And you think its Frankie?” Georgie was still bothered about that, but his mother’s bright eyes spoke to him the answer even before the words were borne from her lips, “Yes” she whispered, “I do.”

For a moment Georgie shivered, if that were so, what sort of brother was this creature? And did he really want to unearth such a person and lay claim to him? Georgie had never killed another in his life, and it unnerved him to think that his twin could.

“Then, he is somewhere in the city.” Georgie heard himself say, speaking his thoughts aloud.

Bliss nodded, “Or beneath it.”

Startled Georgie looked hard at her, “Beneath it?” he repeated, “How?”

“Did you never learn anything at school?” His mother was laughing at him, “Georgie you surprise me.”

“So tell me.” Georgie smiled at his mother, while exhaling a soft sigh of amusement.

Bliss patted her son’s hand, and as she began to relate part of the history of New York to him, her eyes literally came to life with happiness, “Beneath the city are miles upon miles of tunnels Georgie. Leading right through to Queens and Brooklyn, you imagine that! Why living beneath the city streets would be the perfect hide out for your brother.”

“Then he would need friends to help care for him, get him food...” Georgie gasped, “Oh no, Mama! You don’t think he is cannibalistic do you?”

Bliss laughed gaily, “No way Georgie. Have you seen this Catherine Chandler, there’s a photograph of her somewhere,” Bliss went through the bundle of clippings methodically, “Here, look. See how beautiful she is. Surely she would have nothing to do with Frankie if he ate parts of his victims.”

“What does beauty have to do with it? Have you never heard of beauty but no brains Mama?”

Bliss laughed, Georgie was getting ridiculous. “Just listen to yourself will you? If the woman had no brains, and did not care or realise that the being was cannibalistic, do you seriously believe she would have kept him a secret or that he wouldn’t have eaten her too by now?” Bliss pursed her lips together; trying very hard not to laugh out loud, the thought was so funny.

Rather than be offended, Georgie felt his own lips twitch, knowing from past experience when he was beaten. “Okay Mama, you win. Let’s take it again from the top shall we? You are convinced that this creature is my twin brother, lost to you almost thirty-five years ago. The day that you escaped the maniac, jumped on a boat, changed your name and finally reaching Manhattan you trundled through the depths of winter as the snow fell around you not knowing where to go.”

Bliss nodded, as misty eyed she began taking up the story, “I was so frightened for you and for Frankie. You were both so weak, but you were the one that frightened me the most. The winter air was rasping that night, I can still feel the biting wind. It cut through the coat that I wore and swirled around my legs with its icy fingers, and I huddled you both beneath the coat trying to keep you warm. As I hurried through the night, ever fearful that...that...” her eyes rolled with fear even now at the memory, as she whispered, “that monster would attempt to follow my footsteps at any moment, I began to hear you making little choking sounds. I pulled you out from the wraps of the coat beneath the light of a neon lamp, and saw how blue and pinched your face was with the cold, and though Frankie appeared to be sleeping, I was never quite sure whether he was conscious or not.”

“You’ve always told me that Frankie was different Mama, but I could never understand why you left him alone while you took me to the hospital. Why didn’t you take him with you too?”

“How could I Georgie? You know what he looked like. I’ve told you a hundred times. His features resembled a lion cub, how could I take such a child to a hospital and confess I’d given birth to him?”

Georgie nodded, yes his mother had told him a hundred times though he found it hard to believe her as he had grown up. Though they were twins thankfully they were different in many ways and though they bore similarities Georgie could never quite believe his mother’s story of how his brother had looked except for the parts of him that made him doubt his own sanity at times.

“You only saw him for a few moments Mama, and then in poor light, perhaps you were mistaken and with the passage of time the experience has contaminated your memory.”

Bliss stared wide-eyed at her son, “Is that what you really believe?” She asked him incredulous.

“I don’t know Mama.” Georgie’s voice rose, “What do you expect of me?”

“More than that. If nothing else your own hand should tell you the truth of what I say.”

Georgie looked at his hand, oh yes, trust his mother to remind him of that. “Be it that I could cut it off and tear it away from me!” Georgie made to stand, but Bliss halted him with a hand to his arm.

“Don’t Georgie!” She cried tearfully, “despite everything you have had a good life. If I can hope for Frankie’s life being half as good, it would be a consolation.”

“You call this a good life!” Georgie pulled off the leather glove that covered his right hand to reveal long fur-covered fingers with blunted tipped claws. “Never able to reveal this to anyone! Never able to marry, to have children, for fear of what I might produce!”

Rarely had Bliss been witness to such an outburst from her son. “I’ve always loved you Georgie...and Frankie.” She whispered, as tears ran down her cheeks, “and I’ve wished a million times and more that things could have been different. Surely you know that? I only ever wanted the best for you.”

Pushing aside her restraining hand, Georgie rose unsteadily to his feet, “When you left Frankie beneath that bush Mama, you know what you should have done? What would have been the best thing you could have done for the both of us?” His eyes a fiery shade of blue challenged her and when she could only shake her head, he flared angrily, “You should have left us both out in the cold that night. Left us both there to die!”

“No! No!” The words were torn from his mother, “You were beautiful. Different yes, but nonetheless beautiful. I couldn’t have left you there to die. Georgie, you know how its eaten me up all these years just thinking about Frankie, would you have wished a similar fate for me to grieve for you also?”

“Had you of left us in the snow and watched until we took our last breath Mama, you would have grieved yes, but you would have been able to get on with your life, and you would have done us both a favour.” Georgie told her, his voice controlled but deadly serious. “You could have put the horror behind you, and lived a decent life with just a bitter memory. That maniac not only robbed Frankie and I of a proper life, he robbed you of having a decent life too.”

“No he didn’t. As mad as he was, I’ve never regretted having you Georgie. You are special to me.”

“I would never have taken you for being selfish Mama. Look at me! Look at this! You call this a hand? It’s no more than a glorified paw. And my back, what would you call that? Huh tell me? A pelt perhaps?” He sneered.

“Georgie!” Bliss stood up glaring at her son, “Stop it, stop it at once!”

“Why, because it eases your conscience?”

“No.” Bliss flopped herself wearily back upon the bed, “I don’t like to hear you put yourself down like this. Any life is precious Georgie. Some people can’t even walk, or talk, or hear or see. You have all those faculties. So you may have deformities that prevent you doing all that you would like, but look at you, you have achieved so much, and telling people that you wear that glove because your hand was badly burned as a child was a wonderful idea Georgie. No one has ever suspected your secret.”

Exhaling a deep sigh, Georgie searched his mother’s eyes and found the sincerity he’d hoped for there. Though she had seldom borne witness to his outbursts, she had always been there for him come what may, had always encouraged him to reach for higher goals, and yes, she was right, he had achieved much, beneath the pretence of being a burns victim.

“I’m sorry Mama.” Georgie sat back down onto the bed, “That was very selfish of me.”

Bliss grinned, and Georgie knowing the look, grinned with her. “How is it that your eyes can say I told you so Mama, without your mouth ever uttering a sound?”

“Practice.” She told him softly and drawing her arms around his large frame she pulled him toward her, feeling beneath her fingertips the bulkiness of silken fur beneath his shirt and jumper.

A sudden buzzing sound made them both jump, and Bliss sighed, “Damn bells. Bells for this bells for that, this one means its time for the visitors to leave Georgie.”

Georgie sighed too, “When I got your letter Mama, telling me you were in here, I’d hoped it was some ghastly joke. You should never have told anyone Mama, haven’t you always drummed that into me?”

“Yes. I know Georgie, but I was getting desperate.”

“Desperate? After thirty-five years!” Georgie was so surprised. His mother had always acted so carefully in her search for his brother. Always cautious of what she said to anyone.

“It was these reports Georgie. I wasn’t sure at first whom to contact. Before I realised this Miss Chandler kept cropping up, I thought the best place to start was with the journalists that wrote the story. Seems too many leading questions made them jumpy and someone decided I was a mental case with a gruesome streak. Well you know how it is, one thing led to another, until finally their questions tied me in knots, and the next thing I knew they’d had me certified.”

“How much did you reveal to them, Mama?”

“Nothing really specific. Just bits.”

“What kind of bits?”

“Oh you know, this and that.” Georgie heard warning bells sound in his head at his mother’s obvious reluctance to talk about it, but nonetheless ventured, “Did you tell him he might be your son?”

Bliss fell silent, fumbling with the handkerchief in her lap, and Georgie looked at her stunned, “You did didn’t you? You told them he was your son. Mama, did you tell them about me too?”

Bliss’s continued silence had Georgie worried, he whispered in a strained voice, “You did didn’t you? Tell me Mama what did you say?”

Bliss shrugged, “I can’t really remember.” She ventured quietly.

Georgie lifted her chin with one finger to look into her eyes, “Mama you told me that you have never lied.”

“I haven’t.” she whispered, trying hard not to meet his eyes.

“Then why are you doing so now.”

Bliss smiled, she could not stay serious for long, “Would you believe that I am trying to get into practice for the telling of the other one?”

Georgie tried not to grin, yet his lips twitched and he drew her towards him, hugging her, “Oh Mama what am I to do with you?” he laughed then, “So they know that I am the beast’s brother then?”

“Don’t call him that!” Bliss drew back from his arms to look sternly at her son. “He is not a beast. He’s my son.”

Georgie did not want to argue but pointed out, “That’s assuming this creature is Frankie of course. So come on Mama, you can’t stop there, what exactly did you tell them?”

Bliss sighed deeply, “I told them that out of my twin boys he could be the son that I had lost at birth.”

“Just that?”

“Yes, basically they were the only words that I uttered. You know me Georgie, I wouldn’t reveal too much. Anything else I said, were questions really aimed at finding out more about him.”

Georgie nodded, “And they were your exact words?” Slowly Georgie was beginning to piece things together.

“I believe so why?”

“Just tell me again what you said.” Georgie asked her.

Shrugging, unable to see or contemplate the way her son’s mind was working, Bliss repeated her earlier answer, “ I told them that he could be the son that I’d lost at birth.”

“And what did they say at that?”

“At first they laughed at me, and then someone asked if I have always believed in re-incarnation. And someone else said that my son must have lived a hellish life to have come back as that beast... Why are you smiling like that Georgie? What so funny?”

“Mama, just listen to yourself. They haven’t put you in here because they think that you believe you are the mother to the beast, but rather because they believe that you think your dead son has been re-incarnated as the beast.” Georgie’s voice rose with excitement, “Mama, don’t you see, you can’t be held here,” Georgie was shaking his head, “You can get out of here, you can’t be tried for believing in re-incarnation, its insane.”

Slowly Bliss nodded her head, “You’re right Georgie, I never thought of that. Do you really believe that’s what they think?”

Georgie shook his head, “Who knows. However, it is immaterial whether they do or not, the thing is, the belief provides the perfect escape for you. All you need say is that is what you had been referring to all along. They can’t continue to hold you Mama, not for a religious belief. Not here, not in America.”

Bliss’s eyes were bright with joy, “Will you come here tomorrow Georgie, come see the doctor with me, explain this to him?”

“Of course Mama, you know I will. And I’ll get you out of here I promise. Now, what do you think, shall I take the journal with me, I could study it tonight?”

Bliss flicked through the pages, “You will look after it?”

“Of course Mama.”

“Then take it with you, and make an appointment to see this woman, this Catherine Chandler. Georgie, promise me you will follow that up?”

Georgie smiled and patted her hand as he rose to his feet and he picked up the journal from her lap, “First thing tomorrow morning I’ll call the D.A’s office, but I’ll make an appointment not just for me with this woman, but for you also. This is your last night in this place Mama, come tomorrow, I promise, you will be free again.”

“And then we’ll continue the search together?”

“Yes Mama, together. I promise.”

Bliss smiled, tomorrow, tomorrow, she would be free, and the search would continue, and they would find him, she was certain of it, find her missing son, and the re-union would be as joyful as she had always dreamed.

Watching as Georgie closed the door behind him, Bliss walked across to the window and waited until she could see him striding through the rain towards his car. He looked back and waved before he got in knowing she would be watching him even though he could not see her through the driving rain. And as she watched her son drive his car up the drive and out of her sight Bliss felt the weight lift from her shoulders and she began to have hope again for the first time in several months.

To be continued in part two.