Sharon Michelle Toote Trinity and Saint George

Trinity and Saint George

By Sharon Toote

Preface

What if…..our fate was crafted long ago, then played out for our participation, like stars that have flashed their last rays, but only perceived in the night sky millenniums later? We are taught to believe that we can control our destiny, but we can’t change fate. Whatever results are gotten, that is the result fated.

How can it be believed that we control our fate when our lives are so twisted together? Trinity Sands and Tasha Romanova did not expect that their friendship was affected by events that happened decades before they were born.

This is more than a story about two remarkable women who were unwaveringly loyal to each other from the time their friendship began as young children. It is more than a story of a friendship that bridged unimaginable wealth from a great civilization and royal status to a simple small Island nation.

This is a story about family, relationships and unconditional love.

This novel is entirely fictional, with no intent to depict actual persons or events other than those within a few historical illusions.

All rights reserved

Part 1

Trinity

Very early, on a Saturday morning in July of 1999, Trinity Sands was heading back from her run, not a far distance, but a power run to the canals. The silhouettes of trees were outlined, softly, in inky blue and deep purple shadows as the sun was just starting its ascent in the east. The dark outlines of coconut and palm trees lay like grotesque yet sultry medusas on the ground and the swaying Spanish moss in the cottonwood trees revealed scintillas of orange and yellow hues from the street lights.

It was quiet, except, for the roosters’ crow, one after the other, starting from daybreak (as said on the Island, ‘day-clean’). In between, the ring-neck doves cooed in chorus in the eves of houses and on branches in the trees. A layer of mist lingered in silky swirls on the ground and the morning dew made the gardenias and night blooming jasmines along the path smell even sweeter.

There were other runners and walkers on the trail. Some were way ahead of her and some were well behind. Except for a courteous salutation, there was no attempt to make conversation. That’s how it always was. Trinity gave no thought to this run being any different from any other, but she didn’t know that this morning she was being stalked.

She didn’t realize the danger until it was almost too late. No bark alerted her. She did not hear its claw armoured paws crushing the leaves on the ground, until it was close, very close. The sound made her turn her head and when she did, she saw it coming, at top speed, baring its teeth and growling. Stopping immediately, she faced it dead on. She knew that a person should never try to outrun a dog, because you can’t, but that was not the reason she didn’t try. She didn’t run because she was immobilized with fear.

The red-eyed hellhound kept its head low, snarling, advancing at her with increasing aggression, moving in semi-circles around her as it chopped sharply at her shins. She looked around for anything that she could climb onto or escape into. She had to do something. She had to stand her ground. She had to fight.

“Get away from me! Get away from me!” she screamed.

It slowly advanced, one paw in front of the other, growling, baring its large bloodied teeth.

Quivering and afraid, she said, “The Lord is my shepherd, I will fear no evil.”

The bitch kept coming at her, though, unrelentingly. It seemed to her, getting bigger and bigger with each step. As she backed away, it snapped its razor sharp canine and incisor filled jaws at her legs. The stench from it assaulted her. She kept moving back and it followed, salivating globs of fire. She almost lost her footing over a tree branch on the ground and she reached out her arms to regain her balance.

She heard herself screaming, “Get away! Get away!” Then without cognition, she said, “Get thee behind me, Satan.”, as if the words were put in her mouth, but not in her conscientiousness.

Without thinking, she picked up the branch as the dog sprang for her neck. With a supernatural force she swung the branch at it, hitting it on its ribs. It fell on its back just a few feet from her. The dog right sided itself, then, in an instant, bounded at her, again. She swung the branch hard, again, like a bat, as she let out a guttural groan. The wood disintegrated when it made contact with the dog’s neck and shoulder as it was rotted and full of termites and worms. The dog stepped back, shaking off the pain caused by the impact, with its head and shoulders low, snarling. It seemed, to her, that it paused to work out a plan for the best way to get to her neck and clamp down on her windpipe and arteries.

She kicked dirt at it until she remembered that she had pepper spray on her key ring. As she fumbled with getting the spray canister off of the lanyard hanging down from her neck, the dog advanced on her, again; furiously, stealthily, trying to get behind her. She could hear its jaws snapping as it delivered rapid fire chops to her legs to unbalance her, again, causing her to lose her footing and tumble to the wet ground.

Just as he pounced, she was able to aim the Mace Pepper Gun at the dog’s face and release the contents of its cartridge. It fell on top of her. She mightily pushed it away with her free arm. The dog landed on its side, yelping from the burning irritant in its eyes. While still supine, she kept spraying the dog until it writhed on the ground, beside her, rubbing its front paws over its head.

She quickly got up. With her arm outstretched, she held the Mace spray gun and went closer to it. She was scared, angry and vengeful. She didn’t want to run away, anymore. She wanted to hurt it, so she pumped the toxin directly into its eyes and mouth. It screamed as it tried to cower in retreat, stumbling into obstacles in its way. Trinity quickly recognized another branch on the ground as the branch of the Holy Wood tree. She picked up the heavy wood and beat the dog until it was dead.

The capsaicin in the spray was now all around her. Her eyes stung and turned fiery red while tears flooded over her lids, leaving streaks on her cheeks. She put the back of her hands over them, desperate to rub away the toxin and the pain. The veins in her temples and forehead bulged. She tried to catch her breath, but each time she inhaled, she coughed again and repeatedly. Each exhale was accompanied by a high pitched wheeze.

The dog was dead, but she was still immobilized. She dropped the gun to her side as she trembled, fearfully, looking around for others.

“Where did it come from?” she mewled, her legs folding under her. She was shaking from the adrenaline rush.

The dog had long matted black hair, like a bear and massive shoulder and chest muscles. A disproportionately large lower jaw jutted from a small and triangular head. She knew that a lot of her neighbours had dogs for protection, but she believed this dog to be one of the feral dogs that were being seen in increasing numbers in the neighbourhood.

Her next door neighbour, Mitch, was just a little ahead of her and heard her screams. He turned and ran to help. By the time as he got to her, she was able to breathe better.

“What happened?” he asked, with concern written on his face.

“This dog just attacked me. It just came out of nowhere.” she panted, pointing at it.

“Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life. It wouldn’t back off. If I didn’t spray mace in its face, it was going to keep coming at me. I swear it was going to kill me.”

Mitch helped Trinity to rise while looking around them as they headed back. He was very worried that there could be more lurking on the path. He and Trinity warned the others. At the bottom of the lane they formed a group as, one after the other, they abandoned their exercise in fear of being mauled. Each one had an experience with the feral dogs that they revealed.

“I can’t let my children play in the park because of them. One even came into our yard last week and took one of my dog, Tippy’s, puppies. She fought with it before it took off with the puppy in its mouth. It bit up Tippy’s head and ears pretty badly. I had to take her to the vet. I know they’ll be back.”

“I’m glad that you killed that one. They all need to be killed.” said another. “I’m ready to put poison out for them. They took my son’s rabbits.”

“Can we poison them?” asked yet another, who they saw frequently exercising, but no one knew exactly where he lived.

It was an option that was seriously discussed, but they agreed to call the authorities first, because something had to be done. It had become too dangerous to ignore. The dogs were out of control. Caleb, who was walking with his wife, Sheba, said he would call the Humane Society the minute they opened later in the morning. Unsaid, but understood, was that some drastic action was going to be taken. It was now bright enough to see clearly.

“Have you been burned by something.” asked Sheba, pulling at Trinity’s shirt. “Your sleeve looks like it has been burned.”

“It does?”

“It’s still smoking. It smells like phosphorus, like a burning match. Can’t you feel it?”

Trinity pulled the material forward as she craned her neck.

“I was feeling something warm. I thought it was just the pepper spray and the fight.”

Hurriedly, she pulled off the outer shirt that she was wearing. Mitch threw his water over it to stop the smoking.

“I thought you were going to strip, but thank God you are wearing another shirt under it.” said Mitch, laughing.

“Wow!” she answered. “I had ordered some ordinary workout tees, but they sent the wrong order. They sent flame resistant tee shirts in colours that I didn’t order. I decided to keep them. I am wearing one for the first time, now. Thank God for that.”

“How could you have been set on fire, though?” asked James.

“I can’t say for sure, Mitch. And, I know that you guys will think that I am crazy, but that dog already had blood on its teeth before I hit it and it looked like solar flares were coming out of its eyes and nose. Just like a dragon!”

“He breathed fire on you, Trinity? Really?” he asked.

“I said you would think that I am crazy. Anyway, I have to go back for my keys. I must have dropped them on the ground.”

Mitch, Sheba, Caleb and James walked back with Trinity to the spot where she was attacked. The dog’s body was not there.

“It was right here. You saw it, Mitch. It couldn’t have gotten up and just walk away. I smashed its head in.” Trinity told them.

“You can see burn marks around here.” said Caleb.

“There are burn marks all over here, as well. How can that be?” asked Mitch.

The branches were still there. The acrid smell of burning phosphorus still lingered. The lanyard, with the keychain and the mace gun attached, was still there.

“Where did the dog go? Who could have moved it without us seeing?” Mitch asked, again.

Sheba shook her head. “We never use to have problems with these kinds of dog, before.” she said.

“That’s because there were no dogs like these. Some people say that these dogs are voodoo dogs from hell. My hyshin, who has been here for over thirty years, told me the other day that these dogs are voodoo dogs. He told me that when they make a zombi, the soul from the person is put into a dog then the dog has to obey the sorcerer that made the zombi.”

“Are you serious? Are you just saying that is what you heard or are you saying that because you believe it?”

“I am finding it hard to not believe the stories. You know they still practice their voodoo when they come here. The ones that came a long time ago are so humble, but these new set, they are bold, they don’t even try to hide it, anymore. They are terrorizing everyone.”

“Who, the dogs or the people?” asked Caleb.

“I don’t believe that in a literal way, but I can’t explain what happened. I have never seen a dog that looked and acted like that before. I felt like I was battling a demon. And, now, its carcass has disappeared.”

“That’s right. There are too many unexplained things going on.”

As they walked her home, Mitch said, “Just be careful.”

Trinity showered and washed her hair. It was fully grey with a few black strands. She was running late as she drove to the dock downtown. She was thankful that the ferry had not yet arrived meaning she made it in time for the crossing to The Yoga Retreat. She walked on the jetty, still shaken and sat on a wooden bench on the side of a hut, reflecting on her experience. She looked forward to the class to release some of the tension in her shoulders and neck, no doubt caused by the run in with the dog.

The sun was already shooting razor sharp yellow shards of light through red clouds onto the shimmering salt water. Old folk say that red clouds in the morning mean a warning to expect really bad weather later. Old folk know. Trinity looked down into the water and could see that it wasn’t very deep, but it was almost crystal clear.

She walked closer to the edge of the jetty and sat on the concrete steps that descended into the water. They were cold and still damp with morning dew. Looking down, she spotted a tiny jelly fish, sea horses, a juvenile angelfish, conch shells and an old propeller that looked like it had been there for a long time. Green algae was everywhere, especially on the massive wood posts holding up the jetty. Small Jacks darted around it, nibbling the nourishing vegetation.

Brightly coloured rowboats, white sailed sloops and outboard boats bobbed up and down on calm amethyst ripples under them. Fishermen, who were transferring their wares from their boats to the hut restaurants that peppered Potter’s Cay, did so without making any sound. One squatted to collect a bucket of water to clean the fish and conch that he would sell during the day.

On the opposite side of the bay, across from Potter’s Cay, she could see the long brown-haired boatman from the Retreat making preparations to come across the harbour to pick up their early morning guests. He climbed down into the boat and steered a straight line to her. By the time it pulled up to the dock, alongside the steps, there were devotees gathering in wait.

Her husband, Robert, used to come frequently. He believed, very much, in the holistic approach to life and was more involved with the mind body continuum and the meaning and purpose of the Sanskrit mantra chants. Trinity was in no way a devotee, but she liked the serenity. She came just to exercise, while overlooking the beautiful pristine water of the bay. They chanted, she prayed. There was nothing wrong with that, she believed. To each his own.

That morning’s class was on a raised wooden stage, like a giant dance floor on the beach. White flags waved gently from eight upright posts. Embowered in palms, a thatched roof protected the pupils from the sun and rain, but there were no walls. She could smell incense all around, a different one from each direction, along with the salty smell of the ocean.

From that side of the harbour, the whole bay was open for everyone to see. Small and large boats were docking at various piers. Grand office windows reflected the sun, dazzling, often too much, making her eyes squint. In between and further down, with their own private docks, were beautifully painted pastel coloured mansions in hues of pink, blue, green, purple, yellow, violet; all matched like the reflected sunlight through a prism.

When the class ended, they got into the Savasana pose. She laid flat on her back, closed her eyes and relaxed. She became so relaxed that she did not hear the Yogacharya say, "Namaste (I honour you)", but she heard the class say it back. After they all got up, she picked up her mat and rolled it up.

Neatly positioned around the platform, overlooking the ocean, were large brown wicker chairs, with soft lilac pillows. Saffron and aquamarine coloured flags gently swayed in the breeze as the Casuarinas whispered to each other. The Ocean, on this side of the Island, was deeper and more active, with each wave crashing loudly onto the shore flinging saline spray high into the air. White froth on the water’s edge chased long beaked shore birds looking for crabs in the sand.

She liked that, there, the quietude was never interrupted by someone talking her head off, selling raffle tickets or begging for sponsorship for a child to go with their team to play soccer or some proud mother showing her family pictures. No, there was none of that. With a cup of Jasmine tea, she sat in peace and quiet, gazing out at the ocean with no interruptions. She heard the call of the sea gulls, sometimes lyrical and sometimes frantic, coupled with the sound of the ocean tide.

Oddly, to some, Trinity never liked the feeling of sand on her skin or on her feet, particularly on her toes. This was so bewildering to other people, seeing as she was surrounded by some of the most glorious beaches in the world with pristine white, yellow and pink sand. She liked the water, but could not walk on the sand. And, her family’s name was Sands. How bizarre was that?

After she finished drinking her tea, she decided that it was time to leave as the sun was now almost at a right angle overhead and scorching. It was the height of summer, when each ray felt like a blowtorch on the skin. The next ferry to the Island was about to leave, so, she gathered her towel and mat and put them in her straw bag.

On the other side of the bay, after she was helped off of the boat, she walked to her car. She reminded herself that the Islands were on a tropical storm and possible hurricane watch. She looked at the sky for signs of it approaching. Directly overhead the turquoise sky was brushed by feathery white cirrus clouds that were being pushed by dense, dark anvil shaped cumulonimbus clouds gathering ominously from the southeast.

Tropical storms were inconvenient, but the news of an approaching hurricane was taken very seriously. As expected, they had all gone through tropical storms and hurricanes many times, so preparations were always ongoing throughout the year. She had lots of water, batteries, a radio, non-perishable food, candles, camp lights and emergency kits in the storage closet on the first floor by the kitchen. Stashed money (in case the banks went down, which was unlikely because they all had their own generators) and a rifle were in the chifferobe in her bedroom.

But she, like many others, still had not gotten a generator for those times because two hurricanes prior, a young boy was electrocuted when he turned on a generator at his house, while he was standing in water. That scared her. She remembered, too, that as a child, a past Hurricane was so fierce on one of the northern Islands that the cemetery that was close to the beach flooded and old coffins popped out and upended. Body parts, whole bodies and skeletons were strewn about with rotted coffin liners. But, some bodies were not in coffins. Trinity remembered her Uncle Fred telling her that his father told him that, sometimes, they couldn’t get wood to make coffins so the bodies were stitched into a couple of large flour bags which they got from grocers and bakeries. Funny thing was that there was no odour. The old folk say that is because the hurricane blew the stench away and it never came back.

She went to the gas station to fill the car tank and, just to be sure, she took two approved containers with her, as well. Then, there was something else that she had to do. After she left the station, she went to look for her uncle. Howard James Sands was her father’s youngest of two brothers. Her father, Dr. Peter Johan Sands, was a Pediatrician and one of the last of the Flying Doctors. Trinity’s other uncle, Frederick Jasper Sands, lived in Paris.

Howard was a brilliant child, mannerly and thoughtful of others. His close friends called him ‘Philly Corn’ although Trinity did not know why. He did his homework and studied without prompting and he received straight As. He was a handsome boy and always had an eye for the ladies. Howard was in his final year of internship at The University of the West Indies in Jamaica and was completing a semester of Public Health for which he had to have field experience. So, he went every where his brother went.

It was reported that another group of the deluge of Haitian migrants had been shipwrecked and stranded on a small cay as they tried to get to the United States. There were supposed to be seventeen children on the cay. From what they knew, there were eight who were between the ages of seven to fifteen years and six less than six years old. It was believed that there were, also, three babies who were suckling. In addition, there were possibly twenty two adults on the cay, all suffering from malnutrition and dehydration and only God knew what kind of disease.

When Dr. Sands received the call about the starving migrants, there was no question that he would fly to the location. Whatever Dr. Sand’s thoughts were of the illegal migrant adults, he could not let the children die. The children had no choice whether they wanted to endanger their lives on the high seas, in shark infested waters, on a patched up rickety sloop.

The Government struggled between rescuing the unending convoys of Haitians and turning them away, out of the country’s waters, at gunpoint. The Haitians would all tell you that they really want to make it to the United States, but few did. Most stayed in the Islands of the country that could not afford them. They relied heavily on the medical, social and educational system and they used every benefit that they could get, but contributed little to the treasury.

The boat that carried this group of Haitians was a poorly built wood and metal junk. The masterminds behind the human trafficking crammed them into their unseaworthy boats charging, even for the non-migrant, an exorbitant sum of money. If the ‘Captain’ detected that the Defence Force boats, that patrolled the waters, were on to them, they made the migrants jump overboard, knowing that the Defence Force would have to rescue people in the water, giving them time to speed off.

If they refused to get off, merciless and cold hearted crew members held them down then threw them overboard, while the ‘security’ pointed their guns at them, all too ready to shoot and kill, if need be. It didn’t matter if the boat was nowhere near an Island or if the person that they threw overboard was two, twenty two or sixty two. They were less concerned, even, if the person could swim.

When the boat reached an Island, or any rock, its Captain certainly could not risk detection by docking to allow the migrants to walk off the boat on a gang plank. They told the migrants to jump into the water and walk to the Island, as the water was very shallow and there were compatriots waiting in hiding to take them to safety.

There were no inhabitants on the rock. There was no one waiting for them. There was no water. There was no food. That’s all it was, a big rock. Once one trip was done, the boat turned around to bring another load, to leave them somewhere, as well. Unfortunately, Peter’s own countrymen were some of profiteers who organized the smuggling activity. Some were arrested and jailed, others carried on, while their operations remained undetected or turned a blind-eye to.

After he heard that a group of migrants were stranded, Gregory Dean, who lived in the Exumas with his wife and children, brought out his boat to give aid, but after surveying the situation, he decided that he dare not get close to that rock. He knew that they would all try to board his boat and cause it to capsize. On top of that, nobody knew what diseases they were carrying. He waited for the Defence Force boats, with armed officers to come for them.

Even though Dr. Sands was an excellent pilot, he encountered very rough turbulence that day, but neither he, nor his colleagues, including Uncle Howard, wanted to turn back. They knew the risk. They thought of the children who were more susceptible to dehydration and hypothermia, who could die very easily if they had not already done so. In an effort to bring every medical thing that they would need, the plane was dangerously overweight.

Gregory heard the sea plane overhead and turned his head towards it just as it came down at a steep angle into the black water. You would think that a sea plane should be able to land on the sea. Well, that is true, but the weight and speed and the angle that the plane came down at, caused it to break apart on impact and sink with its passengers. The Haitians looked on, impassively, too sick to react.

Immediately, Gregory turned his attention to rescuing anyone from the crash. He steered his boat over to where the plane went in, looking all around for anything. His deckhand got on the radio, calling everyone to come in to help. Almost immediately, an oil slick formed on the water. Using a grappling hook and a hand net, Gregory pulled in debris that started to come to the surface. Three doctors and two nurses along with medical supplies and water were lost. Trinity’s father was killed in 1965, the year Trinity graduated high school.

Uncle Howard was the sole survivor. They pulled him out thinking that he had to be dead. When they laid him on the deck he raised a handless forearm. The first Defence Force medical boat arrived and took him on board. No other survivors from the crash were found. The adults on the cay were rescued. All of the children died before they could be taken off of that rock which was three miles long and two miles wide.

Howard suffered multiple broken bones, particularly a shattered pelvis and right femur, the loss of his right hand, partial evisceration and the loss of his right eye. He had a low tolerance for pain and developed a high tolerance for pain meds over the course of the three months spent in Intensive Care followed by a further two months of general care. Then, he was released. He asked why they didn’t just let him die.

Physical pain and nightly terrors plagued him. He drank himself into stupors to fight the flashbacks of hitting that cold black sea water, slamming into the instrument panel, through the wind shield and nearly drowning. He should have received treatment for post traumatic stress disorder, but he refused to go to rehab or counseling. Every night, he dreamed of the accident and every night and day, he drank. In six months, had he not been nearly killed, he would have graduated with his Medical degree. If the crash had never happened, he would have been Dr. Howard Sands.

Instead, he became a fall down, happy drunk who refused all offers of help and preferred to live on the streets where no one had any expectations of him and he had no one to answer to. Trinity even bought him a few glass eyes before, but he kept ‘losing’ them and it became obvious that he just didn’t want one. He never asked anyone for money because he collected a small disability payment and that was enough for him. Where he went to at night, she did not know.

So, Trinity always had to go looking, hard, for him. She heard that, this time, he was together with a “wife” who was a prostitute. She found him sitting outside a liquor store, in a dirty tan coloured bush jacket, a navy blue basketball player’s pants and a yellow bandana tied low over his forehead with the material brought down low on the right side to cover his empty eye socket. He, also, wore on his feet a pair of women’s green flip flops with a flower on top that were too small for him so his heels hung over the back end.

‘Rum Blossom’ had his lips burned pink, raw and swollen, the tissue around his eye, puffy, and his nose, bulbous. The smell of old alcohol and sewerage emanated from him. She could feel his hot breath from his decayed teeth and it was overwhelming. Trinity spoke with him for a while.

“I don’t need to come to you, honey.” he insisted.

“Where are you going to go during the storm?”

“I‘ll maybe go to one of them shelters. Probably Holy Cross Church or the Salvation Army.”

“Come with me, please.” she begged.

“I can’t leave, Trinity. I have to think of my woman, as well. Where she gonna go?”

“Where is she?”

Uncle Howard pointed to a frowzy woman wearing a billowing green skirt, sitting down on an overturned tin tub, on the side of the liquor store. Her legs were spread far apart with her elbows on her knees and a puppy hammocked in the folds of the skirt between her knees. She was holding a fast food box and sucking on a chicken bone while three mongrel dogs lay by her side, chewing on anything she discarded. She then threw the remnants of the box on the ground and sea gulls swooped in to pick up any scraps then flew away, just as quickly. She put her fingers in her mouth to loosen the meat that was wedged between her gum and inner cheeks. Uncle Howard insisted that he could not come without Cali. Cali told him that the flea carrying mutt puppy that she always carried around had to come, too. For Trinity, this was asking a lot.

Trinity stopped to take a deep breath, and then said, “OK, but we have to go now.”

When she pulled up to the house, she was gasping for fresh air. They left the stench of filth on the car seats. She showed them the washroom and encouraged them to clean up, as quickly as they could, before the electricity went off, stopping the pump that brought the water from the well. There was always a reserve, in the holding tank in the house, so this was not exactly true, but she hoped that it would convince them to bathe.

Trinity told Uncle Howard that she put some towels and a pair of pants and a shirt in the washroom for him. On the way up the stairs, she pointed to a storage closet and asked him to get the other cot out for Cali. Since she didn’t know that he would bring Cali with him, she went in her own closet to find something for her to wear. She returned with a pair of long gym pants, a tee shirt and jacket for Cali, two brand new toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, towels and soap, the same items that she would offer to any guest who needed toiletries.

Trinity insisted that the puppy had to stay downstairs. She was not a dog person. She grew up liking chickens and ducks and she kept eight hens, three roosters, three pullets, six chicks and four ducks in her coop. As a child growing up, the family’s neighbour, a man who everyone called Cat (or Mr. Cat to children), had a chicken coop. She liked nothing more than to be in it all day. She fed them, watched the eggs hatch and gave them names. She would go home stink of chicken poop, but she loved it. Still, to this day however, she never knew what Mr. Cat’s real name was.

Recently, two hens and two cocks disappeared from her backyard. She didn’t know why. She asked the Haitian labourer, Yonel, who had only started working in her yard since previous year, if he knew how the birds were disappearing, but he said that he couldn’t figure it out himself. Anyway, she told him, she would purchase more chicken wire to reinforce the coop the next time she went out shopping.

About an hour later, she called down to them. Uncle Howard and Cali gingerly walked up the stairs. They looked and smelled better. Trinity pointed them to the dinner table and the Grouper fingers and French fries on it, something soft enough for them to chew because neither of them had any teeth to speak of. She also offered them some wine. Their eyes lit up with that and they soon became very animated.

Uncle Howard and Cali ate very quickly with their faces inches from their plates, stabbing at their food with their forks. Cali used her left hand to act as a pincer to bring the food to her mouth then they used their fingers to pry out the food that was stuck in the recesses in their gum. Then they all settled down into a slower pace, not unlike that which would happen among friends lingering over dinner, just talking.

Trinity knew that Uncle Howard would go into delirium tremors if he did not have alcohol during the hurricane, so she gave him two bottles of wine, a bottle of Bacardi Anejo Black, some soft drinks and water. She told him that that was all she had in the house.

Cali said that her name was Clarity Erin Collie. She was thirty-six years old, but looked fifty-six. It was difficult for Trinity to gauge what she looked like at a younger age because her very black skin was poxed with little cysts and abscesses and she looked dangerously thin. Her hair was corn rowed and tied up in an orange coarse clothed rag with little spikes of black hair poking though the wrap.

Cali said that she was left with her grandmother, after her mother was kidnapped and murdered. As Cali told her this, Trinity realized that she was talking about a well known case that enthralled the country when she was a teenager. Parents still use it as a cautionary tale about getting into cars with strangers.

Cali’s mother Miriam Collie, a day maid, was found, impaled through the vagina with a dried Poinciana pod. Her killer was a known taxi driver who offered her a ride from the gated community of the Lyford Cay millionaires where she worked for a couple who lived next door to Sir Sean Connery, Mr. Bond.

The night of her murder, her employer required her to work a small dinner party that evening. She had arranged a ride with her married sweetheart, but he got a message to her to say he couldn’t come for her, after all.

She cursed him, “That cocksucker!”

It was raining when she finally got off from work. No public bus ran at that time of night. Except for the airport and Lyford Cay, there was not much else out there, so she started walking in the rain, with no umbrella, hoping that someone would offer her a ride into town.

Hezekiah Wilson, an exceedingly ugly and saturnine man, passed her as he was going to the airport to pick up fares to bring back to the city. He had been a taxi driver for almost seventeen years. His vehicle was an old rusty white diesel Mercedes Benz that chugged like a small motor boat. He was portly and almost bald and he had gray eyelashes and grey hair growing out of his ears and nose. His pants were always belted high under his chest, covering his enormous belly.

The night he saw Miriam walking was rainy and cold. He had very few fares that day. He and another taxi driver had an argument, just before his last trip. The tourists refused to get into his chugging and rusty Mercedes Benz taxi, but he blamed the other driver for stealing his fares. Instead, he was dispatched one trip to take a family of locals home to the Anne’s Town area. As he headed back to the airport, he saw Miriam walking very quickly, soaking wet. He turned the taxi around. She thought that he was just being a good human being so they chatted as he headed in the general direction of her house.

Suddenly, he turned sharply into a dirt road in the Pine Barren on the way to the old slave settlement, Adelaide. She was panicked as she realized her fate. She tried to get out of the taxi, but the door handles were of no use. He drove through verdure stands to an old path thick with Gumelemi and Madeira trees, cut off the engine and lights and pulled her out of the car. She was found lying face down with her maids’ uniform still on near a golf course the next morning, by tourists playing an early round. Their ball went into the coppice and they found her nearby a nest of Yellow-crowned Night Heron when they went in search of it. Her stockings and panty had the seats ripped out. Crabs, fly larva and feral dogs had already started to feed on her.

When he came home at about three o’clock in the morning, he woke up his wife, Lilly, and told her to wash and iron his shirt and pants before she came back to bed. She dutifully did so to avoid a beating if she told him that she was tired and wanted sleep, too. She dare not ask why his face, neck and arms were lacerated and bleeding

Trinity asked Cali, “Do you have any other family?”

She said, “My Grammy was on the pipe. She used to sell me to get her drugs. They say she died of AIDs, but I don’t believe that. Anyway, I didn’t have no place to live. None of my people would take me. And, since I was sixteen they wouldn’t take me into one of the children’s homes.”

Once again she was left homeless. She had little education so she did what she was taught to do. That was to prostitute. She said that she had a son and “some old lady” was looking after him, but she didn’t see him and she didn’t know where he was.

Trinity asked, “Have you ever applied for a job in one of the fast food places?”

She said, “I tried two of them. One told me that she couldn’t consider me because my teeth were rotten down and the next one told me that I need to have a passport which I couldn’t get because my mother didn’t register me.”

Continuing, she said, “They say that I have to get a paper ‘after David’ who know when I was born, but I don’t know nobody name David.”

Trinity laughed inside at the misunderstanding, but she thought Cali’s story heartbreaking.

“Aren’t you afraid to be out on the streets?”

“I is always very afraid ‘cause I dis get beat up sometimes and rape, too.” she relied. “Only Howard never hurt me.”

“We’ve been together for nearly five months. I told her that I don’t want her to streetwalk, no more, but she says that she still has to because we don’t have enough money.” added Howard.

Guessing what was on Trinity’s mind, Cali said, “They checked me when I was in the hospital last year after I got beat up. I couldn’t get my chest clear. The ammonia wasn’t getting better, but I didn’t have no AIDs or nothin’. I just had Philis one time and the other time I had ganarrea and tobarkalosis”.

Trinity was flabbergasted, she took a deep breath.

“Good Lord, what have I put myself into?” she asked herself.

The dog barked incessantly with annoying ‘yip yip yips’ that were high pitched and repetitive for no reason. She had tiles and wood flooring, so not only was the sound not absorbed, but they were magnified. It barked all day and all night. At times, she wanted to ask Uncle Howard and Cali to leave with it, just to get the noise out of her house, but she couldn’t do that, neither would she. Cali asked Trinity if she had any food to feed it.

“Now, I have to find food to feed the little mutt, too.” she thought.

Uncle Howard scolded Cali, “I told you not to keep that dog because we can’t feed it.”

Trinity replied, “It’s Okay. I’m pescatarian so I don’t have any meat, but I have some canned tuna. I’ll see.”

Gesturing to Cali she said, “Come. Let’s get something.”

She gave Cali a tin of tuna, a bowl and the can opener. She found some left over white rice in the fridge. She warmed that and put it in the bowl that she gave Cali who was still struggling with the can opener.

“It’s okay, let me show you how.”

When Trinity tried to fix Cali’s hands in the right position to use the opener, she pulled them away, sharply.

“Never mind, you do it.” she told Trinity, het up.

Trinity was puzzled, but finished opening the can. She put the contents in the bowl and handed it to Cali who grabbed it, turned around and went back to the table. She did not even thank her. Cali had seen Trinity wrap up the left over grouper fingers and place them in the fridge to eat later. She expected that she would have been given them to feed the dog. Trinity shook her head in disbelief. She did not like Cali in Uncle Howard’s life and wondered if she should voice that to him. Not then, in any case, she decided but maybe later.

After they finished eating, Uncle Howard and Cali went back downstairs. Trinity took off her ring and watch that, lately, she wore infrequently and placed them by the food processor on the counter. She washed up and cleaned the kitchen.

From the stench, it was apparent that the dog did his business down stairs, too. She gave them some plastic bags to scoop up the feces and laid down some blue pads hoping that Cali would encourage the dog to do his business on them, instead. She told them that if they wanted anything to eat or drink they could help themselves to it.

By chance, her Uncle Frederick called from Europe. She hadn’t seen him in a long time, but they spoke on the phone at least once a month. He left when he was a young man, in 1945, years before Howard and her father crashed in the plane. The last time Fred was home, he tried to find Howard, but they couldn’t. They came to the conclusion that he hid away from them so as not to be seen by Fred and Uncle Fred was hurt by that.

Their father left the house to all three of his sons equally and Trinity’s father left his portion of ownership to her. Uncle Fred and Uncle Howard grew up there and were welcomed to stay for how ever long they wanted to. However, Uncle Fred said he had no interest in it, so he signed over his ownership to Trinity soon after his brother’s death. But, Uncle Howard had never been of ‘sound mind’ after the crash, so, he was unable to sign away his rights. That was fine by Trinity and she tried very hard to get him to come back to live there, to see if being there would provide some structure to his life, but he always said no.

She told Uncle Fred about the imminent hurricane and said how intuitive it was that he called when Uncle Howard was there.

He asked, “Do you think he would want to speak to me? If he doesn’t want to, don’t make him. I think that he avoided seeing me when I was there, but maybe he wouldn’t mind speaking to me on the phone.”

“OK, I’ll see.” she said.

She went down the stairs with the phone in her hand and told Uncle Howard that Uncle Fred was on the phone and asked if he would speak with him. He nodded in consent and took the phone from Trinity. Uncle Frederick was very pleased to hear his brother’s voice and they talked for a very long time. When they were through, Uncle Howard gave her the phone.

Uncle Fred said, “I am grateful to hear his voice. The Lord will bless you for the care of your uncle. I am sure that no one else would let him and Cali into their home.”

“Thank you Uncle Fred. I just wish that he would let me help him more.” she replied. “I’ll call you after the hurricane has passed.”

“Goodbye, Sweetheart.”

As the winds increased, it sounded like one long sustained very loud whistle. The rain pelted down in sheets from every direction onto the house. Trees leaned over from the fierceness of the wind. You could hear the crack of heavy branches breaking and the rustling of more pliable ones with their leaves and branches rubbing together. Then, a person would get the sensation that they were being lifted a little from the gravity that kept them in place.

She took a shower then sat on the bed. Just as she did so the phone rang with an incoming call from her daughter, Nicola. Nica for short. She was at school in Connecticut and called because one of her friends emailed her about the coming storm. She would soon be home for the Christmas break and Trinity was dying to see her.

“Don’t worry.” Trinity told her. “Uncle Howard is here and we will be OK.”

After she hung up from Nica, she returned a call to her best friend, Tasha. The call went straight to voicemail so she left a message that everything was okay. She was a little bummed out when the electricity eventually went off late in the night and she had difficulty falling asleep without the back ground noise of the television. When she finally did, it was as she usually did, on top of the covers. Even though she changed the sheets weekly, she still could not lay between them. She just couldn’t. Not without Robert, there.

When she awoke the following morning she took a shower and dressed. She called out to Uncle Howard and Cali, but got no response.

“They must still be sleeping.” she thought.

She cooked breakfast and called out to them again, but still she received no response, so, she left the pancakes, scrambled eggs, and yellow grits on top of the stove and put the tuna salad in an ice chest on the counter. She went back to her bedroom, with her flash light carrying a cup of coffee, percolated the old fashioned way on the gas stove.

About an hour later, she went back to the kitchen. The first part of Floyd passed over during the night and it had become eerily calm. It was just the eye of the hurricane passing over. Compared to the jet force winds before, this would give anyone a false sense of calm. She looked out through a window that was not covered and saw just the slightest breeze vibrating the few leaves left on some of the trees. Other trees lay fallen with their roots exposed. Broken branches, debris, litter, downed utility lines and featherless dead birds were all over. As expected, there was no damage to the house because all exterior and interior walls were built of concrete.

She called to them again, “Uncle Howard, Cali, come get some breakfast.”

There was still no answer so she went down the stairs to get them. She saw the clothes she had given to them folded neatly on the cots along with the towels and sheets. The wine bottles were empty. She did not see the bottle of Bacardi Anejo. The dog was gone as well.

She felt that she had made a mistake in bringing them there. Maybe, she hurt their feelings. God knows, she did not intend that. She decided that maybe she should not concern herself with them anymore as clearly they did not want to spend their safety there. Uncle Howard knew better than to go out then, though, she thought. He knew that the wind was going to come back, more fiercely. As soon as the utilities were back up she would call Uncle Fred to tell him that Uncle Howard and Cali left in the middle of the hurricane.

To her, something wasn’t right about Cali. Trinity’s spirit did not take to her. Uncle Howard had a bad habit of getting involved with some shady women, but she wondered what choice he would have in finding a good partner in consideration of the lifestyle that he lived.

One woman abused him, diabolically. ‘Mean Mabel’ Edgecombe was a very big, hard heeled, bass voiced, line backer, hard red woman. She let him sleep in the kitchen by the porch door in exchange for bedroom gratuities. But, if he did something that she didn’t approve of or if he couldn’t get her any money or bring his disability payment to her or if he didn’t clean her house to her liking, she would send him out in the yard to bring back five long thorny branches of the Bougainvillea plant that bears heart-shaped leaves. Then, she would whip him with them.

He suffered badly with her. Someone told Trinity what Mabel did, so with a Police Officer, she went to get him. She took Uncle Howard to a hospital and he was admitted. Trinity tried to get him to bring charges on Mabel, but he refused. It was going on his seventh day of admission when he walked out.

She went back to the window, craning her neck to get a panoramic view. Then, just out of the corner of her eye, she saw an orange rag on the ground. About twelve inches of it was fluttering in the wind. It looked familiar, then it registered that it was the one worn by Cali when she saw her the night before. And, something that looked like a blown up inner tyre was partially on top of it. Some crabs where picking at it with their pincer claws, transferring pieces of something to their mouths.

She make an audible gasp when she realized that it was a body. It was Cali’s body. She looked away from the window then walked, calmly, outside. Cali was crushed by a toppled Sapodilla tree. A two foot diameter branch lay across her chest. There was a broken stump still left on the branch, but the corresponding broken part was jutting out of the left side of her neck. The tree ripped her open. Trinity could see that she was almost decapitated. Her head was doubled over on top of her chest so she could see that her eyes were open, too. Blood congealed under her. Trinity felt weighted to the ground.

“Uncle Howard? Uncle Howard?” she screamed at the top of her voice. “Where are you Uncle Howard? Where are you?”

She ran back inside, found a large duvet, raced back to Cali’s body and covered her, using rocks to hold the material down.

“Where is Uncle Howard?” she asked herself, getting more agitated, as she looked around as quickly as she could.

She had to get back inside the house. The air was becoming violent again from the opposite direction and she could feel the wind pushing her. Rain was hitting her like frozen bullets. She rounded the hill that led to her driveway, powered up to the backdoor and went in.

“Oh God, What happened? Where is Uncle Howard?” she asked over and over.

She ran out one more time, but stayed at the top of the driveway. It was from there that she saw him, tangled up in the overhead electrical transformer and lines that crashed down during the night. He had been electrocuted; his flesh blistered, roasted and charred black. The Bacardi bottle lay broken by his side.

There was no sign of the puppy, but she could not stay out to look for it. She went back inside, sat down and cried. She thought that they would be alive if she had not insisted that they come back to her house. She waited out the rest of the Hurricane wrapped up in Robert’s robe on a chair in her bedroom just thinking about what was outside her house.

“What made them want to leave?” she kept asking herself with no reply coming.

Then it was over. Gingerly, she went outside. The duvet was blown off of Cali and both she and Uncle Howard were being feasted on. One animal lapped up Cali’s blood. Another was pulling Uncle Howard’s ribs apart with his teeth and paws just like he was sitting at a table eating barbeque. He bared his teeth and growled at another that tried to take his dinner away. A savage fight broke out among them. They all, at some point, turned and snarled at her, but,

thankfully, did not pursue her. Doing so would have left their meat unguarded. Cautiously, she retreated to the top of her driveway and saw the carcasses of two ducks with little more than their backbones left. There were no signs of the chickens. All were gone.

She called out to her neighbours Caleb and Sheba. When they came over, Caleb vomited and Sheba made the sign of the cross as she looked away. Mitch came out with his hand gun in the waist of his pants. After he put down red cones around the transformer to keep others from getting electrocuted, he came over to Caleb and Trinity. Some of the young boys from down the street came with super soaker water guns and whips. Their parents took the toys from them and made them go into Caleb and Sheba’s house to wait for them. Nobody knew where other dogs might be lurking.

Trinity unrolled her hose and gave the nozzle to Caleb. He and two other men, with the super soakers, fired water at the dogs to stop them feeding on the bodies. That did not work. One parent cracked the air with a whip, bringing down its stinging tip just near the ravenous dogs, to frighten them away. Nothing worked. They ravenously bit off and swallowed chunks of meat from the bodies, oblivious to every thing else.

Mitch said, “I am sorry, but something has to be done.”

With the approval of the others, he took his gun from his waistband, aimed it at the dogs and started shooting. When he was finished, three dogs lay dead. Three ran away.

Finally, one neighbour who had a satellite phone was able to get through to emergency services from a U.S. number. When they came, they were there until after dark with their spinning blue and red lights. The high powered blinding beams had the whole street lit up. Callous rubberneckers taking pictures with their phones and pads and reporters trying to stick a microphone in her face angered her.

The Humane Society officers who came with catch poles, traps and cages were conferring with the Police Officers on the side of the road.

She heard the Police Officer telling the animal catchers, “There are still more of them lurking around. Who knows how many? They are aggressive and not afraid of people. They are out of control. They have to be captured and put down, before they attack anyone else.”

A screen was placed around the bodies where they were readied to be placed into the body bags. Because of the high moisture content in the air, Cali’s body decomposed quickly and her body was, by then, bloated and misshapen. Bite and feed marks were all over her, seeping fluids. Slippage of the skin had already developed. When the morgue attendant, who was holding her ankles to put her body into the cadaver bag, said, “Oh Shit.”, everyone turned to face him.

Cali’s legs slipped right out of his hands, thudding back to the ground, but the skin remained in his gloved hands. This appeared to have caught him by surprise because he stood there, unmoving as he looked at them. So, Cali was left with a ring of white flesh around each ankle.

Uncle Howard’s body was charred and blistered, like a very badly burnt rack of lamb with pieces of bones sticking out. They were having a difficult time getting his body into the cadaver bag, as well, because as they lifted him, pieces of his extremities broke off. Trinity looked away. That was the last straw. The indignity of what was happening to them shook her.

Sheba led her back to the house, to the kitchen table. She put a kettle of water on the stove to boil then they both sat quietly, too shocked to speak. The shrill of the kettle’s whistle startled both of them. Sheba got up, poured the water in the teapot and placed it on the table.

“They would still be alive if I hadn’t insisted that Uncle Howard come here. He didn’t want to and I forced him. I meddled in their lives and this is what happened.” she told Sheba.

“No Trinity, you can’t believe that. It just happened. It wasn’t your fault.” Sheba, answered her.

Trinity wondered how she was she going to tell Uncle Fred and Nica about this tragedy. After she hung up with Uncle Fred, she called Nica. Since she knew that she would hear and see the news anyway, she felt it was best coming from her. Nica felt terrible for her. She tried to convince her that it was not her fault. Nica was about to sit end of term exams. Nica wanted to come home, but Trinity told her to wait and finish her exams. There would be time enough. She was sorry to say, but she did not want her distracted.

When she did come home, after Trinity showed her where everything happened, she and Jase, her boyfriend of three years who was completing his internship at The Princess Margaret Hospital went to pick up Uncle Fred from the airport. He was due in very early that morning after a journey of nearly thirteen hours. Tasha wanted to come home from the day after the hurricane, but the condition of the airport made that impossible. Since the airport was back up and functioning, Uncle Fred was able to fly in and she was due later that afternoon. She said a driver would bring her to the house.

When Uncle Fred came out of the arrivals concourse, Nica stood on tiptoe to wrap her arms around him. He warmly held her then kissed her on the cheek and shook Jase’s hand. He was impeccably turned out, as always. Waves of grey hair carpeted his head. He truly looked forward to being home, but not for the reason that he was.

Rolling the car window down, he said, “You know, I am always reminded that the air here smells so sweet. It is totally different from other countries that I’ve been to.”

Nica said that she realized that was true, as well.

“Uncle Fred, Mum blames herself for what happened. She really needs to hear from you that you don’t blame her.”

“I don’t blame her, at all.” he said. “Howard was a grown man. Your mother offered him help when others said he was just a bum. And, he came with a woman, too. He was safe in the house. Why did he try to leave during a raging hurricane? That was his choice. No, I don’t blame your mother, at all. I am going to hug her very tight to show her my appreciation. I spoke to my brother for the first time in seventeen years. I can’t blame her and anyone else who does is just stupid.”

Nica agreed. But, as comforted as she was by what Uncle Fred said, she still, like everyone else, wondered why Uncle Howard and Cali left. The investigators were trying to find out why, as well.

Uncle Fred hugged Trinity, tightly. He started to cry, they all did. Nica and Jase took his luggage upstairs and he followed. After he freshened up he came back down. He remembered the layout of the house, as it was when he was a little boy growing up there, although, there were some additions since he left. The kitchen was in a different area and the decor had changed. There were Jackson Burnside and Amos Ferguson paintings hanging, but his memories of his life in the house made him feel like nothing had changed.

“Come Uncle Fred, you must be starving.” said Trinity. “We have Boiled Fish, Stew Fish, Conch Chowder and Johnny Cake or eggs and bacon, if you prefer.”

“No way, I want some Boil and Chowder. The Johnny Cake looks good.” he said, breaking off a small piece.

Uncle Fred said grace. Trinity was very happy to have him home, at the table, with Nica and Jase.

As they caught up, Trinity asked Uncle Fred, “Why don’t you come home for good?”

Nica nodded in agreement.

“I intend to. When I go back, the estate has to be prepared for sale and I have to wrap up some other little issues. After that, I do want to come home.” he affirmed.

“Great!” she said, very happy. “But, there is something else that I need to talk to you about.”

Looking at Nica and Jase she said, “My kitchen crew is on duty so let’s take our tea out to the balcony. We’ll go to the funeral home as soon as they have finished.”

After they sat down, she started, “Cali’s body has to stay in the morgue. She cannot be identified, so, it has now been put in the hands of the Police. I told them what she told me, but nothing seems to be happening. They advised me that she could be there for years. And, if not identified and given to someone, they will just dispose of it themselves. I was going to cremate her, as well, but I can’t take possession of the body because I cannot produce any kinship to her.”

Uncle Fred shook his head as he said, “This is getting worse and worse. I don’t know if I would have wanted them buried together, anyway.”

Trinity said, “I know what you mean. I wouldn’t have buried them together, especially since Uncle Howard is going with family. I would have made sure her remains were disposed of. It would have been the charitable thing to do, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. Anyway, there is nothing anyone can do now, so let’s forget about it.” replied Uncle Fred.

A week after the funeral, Uncle Fred went back to Neuilly-sur-Seine, Paris. His employers spent the remainder of their lives in retirement there before they died. Fred had a meeting with the buyer of the lease on their mansion. The Egyptian buyer, who owned multiple stores and hotels, planned on restoring the mansion to its former glory. Fred was asked to be involved in the restoration process, but after that, he was free to come back to the Island for good.

Tasha, Nica and Jase each went their way to carry on with their lives and Hurricane Floyd became a memory. The weather started to cool and you could just begin to see a difference in the length of the shadows from the westerly sun and feel a slightly brisker breeze after all the summer rains and storms.

That was when Trinity knew it was time to start thinking of how she would design her Witch’s Hat for Hallowe’en. Really, it was more of a fascinator than a hat, but it was by far, the most stylish one around. Trinity had been making her witch’s hat since she was a little girl, when Trick or Treating was special for her.

She learned, as a child, to craft hats made of crepe paper and paper plates for The Cathedral Day School’s annual Easter Parade. But, it was not the Easter Parade Hat that she loved to make. For her, it was all about the Witch’s Hat. She allowed herself that one foible every year. Robert loved Hallowe’en, as well, and he always had a great time taking Nica Trick or Treating.

She wore her hat on the last day of work before or on Hallowe’en. They were always made of felt and usually had some theme. After being worn that one time, they were carefully packed away and usually not seen again until the following year.

This was when she made her annual foray into the fabric store. Trinity could neither sew nor craft anything else, so it was the only time she ever went there. She looked around for inspiration. Ghouls, demons, grave markers and bats were all over the place, all connected by spider webs.

Signs stated that a purchase of twenty dollars or more entitled the bearer to a painted face. Mostly, the children asked for skull and crossbones, scary pumpkins, butterflies or cats. One little boy asked for a spider. Zombies were the rage. The atmosphere was exciting. It was the start of the theme party season and Hallowe’en would be followed by Thanksgiving (yes, the American one), Christmas, New Year, Valentine’s Day, Lent, Ash Wednesday and then Easter.

In the craft section she found precut felt pieces in a rainbow of colours. She selected what she wanted then browsed the thread counter. As she found other items that she needed her basket filled. While descending the stairs to go to a cashier, she was reminded of how she saw her best friend, again, after so many years.

Tasha

One of the greatest sporting events in the world saw Muhammad Ali spar against heavyweight champion George Foreman in Kinshasa, Zaïre, on October 30th, 1974. Zaïre was then under the brutal dictatorship of the egotist Mobutu Sésé Seko who, looking for the publicity that the high profile event would bring for him, agreed to sponsor the event.

The fight was eagerly anticipated globally and even Trinity was looking forward to joining a group of other students to watch it in the common lounge of their dormitories. She planned to study for a few hours then join the group.

On that day, as she hurried home from the college, she rounded a corner coming out of the Metro Train station and accidentally rushed into a group of yobs. They did not yield, in courtesy, but instead pushed her to the ground.

“Go home, Golliwog.” the scrawniest punk told her.

The group hurried off when a young man came to her assistance. The tall, well dressed stranger, with thick black hair and expressive lips helped her up.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asked, in a rich baritone, without accent.

“No, I’m not hurt. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to get the Police? Where are you going to?”

Trinity did not answer his question. She was wary of this stranger, as she had become of all since coming there for school, yet he had a trusting, comforting manner. Like the common saying, he carried the patina of old money and good breeding.

“I’ll be fine. Thank You.”

“Alright. Be careful. Are you sure you don’t want me to walk with you until you are in a safe area.”

“No, I don’t want to bother you. Thank you for your help.”

He reached into his coat pocket, took out a restaurant receipt and wrote on the back of it.

“If you have any more trouble, let the Police know. Here is my name and number. I can let them know what I saw, if you need me to.”

“Thank you, again………George.” she said, as she read his name.

He looked at her, expecting to be told her name in return, but she didn’t give it and he didn’t press her. He smiled as he watched her walk on then he made his way through to the train station.

She and Robert met at the Duveen Gallery of the British Museum, while he was in London, one weekend. When she had a downtime from her studies, she loved to linger in the museum away from tour guides and groups, just looking around and taking note of anything she wanted to research later. While she was looking at The Elgin Marbles, a classmate of hers, who was walking around with Robert, introduced them on that cold dark Sunday morning and asked her to join them for tea in the Museum’s cafe.

He was friendly, but not pushy or intrusive. He saw her a few times after that and asked her out on a date, to a Patti Labelle concert, which she would always remember, not so much for Patti’s singing, which was out of this world wonderful, but for the fact that Patti took her shoes off on stage and she praised one of her backup singers who had surgery, but was valiantly giving it her all.

After she returned home, Trinity saw Tasha for the first time in eight years as she was coming down the stairs. She, too, was looking at fabric samples with a shop assistant. She was exactly as Trinity remembered her; gamine, huge sable eyes, a slight overbite, tall, very slim with long legs and closely cropped cocoa brown hair. Tasha was still very pretty and engaging.

Trinity could hear her telling the shop assistant that she didn’t like the print of the fabric that she was being shown, but the tone of her voice was warm. When she was listening to you, you knew that she was really listening to you. And, she never raised her voice, even when angry. Tasha’s mother Janice was from Mississippi. That was why Tasha sometimes spoke with a slight Southern drawl when around her mother or with the ‘sing song’ inflection of the Bahamians. The way she spoke would not draw attention to a foreign accent in either setting.

As Trinity came down the steps, Tasha moved further up the aisle in front of her. She pointed to a bolt of fabric out of her reach then pointed to another.

The white halter strap of her bathing suit was visible under her purple paisley tunic. She wore multiple layers of turquoise and silver bracelets, hoop earrings and millefiori mosaic bead necklaces. On her feet were a pair of black high wedge Espadrilles whose ribbon she had tied around her ankles. It was obvious that she was in the sun. A pinkish gold-bronzed colour highlighted her cheeks, chin, shoulders and arms.

Trinity said, softly, like the Amen after a hymn, “Natalya Norman Ovsianico Romanova.” She emphasized Romanova.

Tasha reacted in a flash. She turned her head toward the voice, knowing instinctively whose it was. No one called her that, except, Trinity, and few people knew that her name was Natalya (which in Latin meant Christmas Day), not Natasha as her nickname would imply. Tasha took a few steps to her and before Trinity knew it, Tasha had wrapped her arms around her.

“I thought I’d never see you again! Where did you go?” asked Trinity, her eyes closed.

“I was coming to your house this evening. I’ve been calling, but I couldn’t get through.” Tasha answered while they rocked, her eyes closed, too.

“I know. The number has changed.”

“We came in to look at the house we used to live in. Mama is in here somewhere. We’re going back tomorrow evening. T (That’s what Tasha always called Trinity), I am so happy to see you.” Tasha said, her eyes moist.

She hugged Trinity, again, tighter and fervently. Tasha was taller than Trinity and her arms went right around Trinity’s neck. She kissed Trinity’s cheek again and again. Neither of them said a word. Shoppers looked at them, but they didn’t care. Then Tasha broke the embrace and took Trinity’s hand. She held on to it, it seemed, for dear life, as she looked around for her Mother. She rounded the corner of each aisle, pulling Trinity along.

When she found her mother, Tasha said, excitedly, “Mama, look who I found.”

Janice looked up from the vermilion upholstery fabric that was being measured for her.

She asked, “Trinity?”

“Yes ma’am.” Trinity answered.

She, too, embraced Trinity warmly and immediately started with the questions.

“Where have you been? What have you been doing? What are you doing in this store? I remember I tried to teach you and Tasha to sew, but neither of you were much interested.”

After a period of Trinity trying, gamely, to keep up with the questions, Tasha said, “Mama is going to be a while so can you come with me to Granda’s?”

Mr. Aleixo Granda’s grandparents came from Mikonos during the sponge fishing boom at the turn of the 20th century. When an infection wiped out the sponge beds and the industry, they turned to cabinetry. He now helmed the wood work shop on Shirley Street which his grandfather started. Even before they stepped inside, they could smell mahogany, lignum vitae, pine, cedar, cherry box wood, pipe tobacco, almonds, coffee and sawdust. The whirring of saws and the hammering of nails and dovetails could be heard coming from the back, sometimes loud sometimes softer, depending if the door that separated the areas was swung open or closed. When told by his assistant that Tasha had arrived, the portly and bald Mr. Granda came out of his office. After Tasha introduced Trinity, he kissed her hand, the old gangster flirt that he was.

“Hello, Mr. Granda. “I remember you from the time you built the library shelves in our house.” she told him.

“Where is the house? Oh. I remember. Codrington is related to you, no?”

“Yes, he is my grandfather. He passed away last year.”

He said, “I remember him well. He was a very generous man and it was obvious that he loved his wife…..erm….Rose…very much. His only direction to me was to do what she said. And the best part, he paid in full upfront. It was unbelievable because most people would not do that.”

“That library is still there.” she said. “And, it is still beautiful and you have a very good memory, Mr. Granda.”

Mr. Granda smiled, full of pride.

“Let me give some instructions then I will be right back.”

“Take your time. We’ll look through the sample books.” Trinity told him.

They sat on a huge bench which had very comfortable maroon pillows on it that were engraved with the name of the shop. Tasha told Trinity that she bought her house back from the Sayers. The Sayers offered the house back because the family had decided to leave the country.

Mr. Granda was brought in to restore the original woods as he was the one who fitted the wood works in the first place. Trinity could never forget how beautiful Tasha’s house was. It was old world colonial meets modern nature with deep coloured beams, wide verandahs, banisters, high beams and beautiful burl wood veneered chest-of drawers and chinoiserie cabinets.

Mr. Granda’s assistant came over to them, bringing piping hot Greek coffee in white demitasse cups with saucers that were each beautifully designed with Greek mythological figures. A plate embossed with the gold letter G held tiny almond snap wafers that were covered with a thin confectioner’s sugar glaze.

“T, please come to dinner with us, tonight. We’re staying at the Ocean Club.”

Janice appeared and sat next to Trinity. She, too, was offered a cup of the very strong coffee.

“Trinity’s coming to dinner with us, Mama.”

“Great, but you two catch up. I’ll order room service.”

Tasha asked Trinity to meet her at seven at Café Martinique. Trinity knew it. They kissed both of each other’s cheeks, as in the European style and Trinity left them to finish their business with Mr. Granda.

Trinity first met Tasha at St. Timothy’s School, in Form 1 or Grade 6 in the American system, the first level of secondary school. Tasha started three years before Trinity did. Education was then, and still is, dictated by the British curriculum. A few days after she started at St. Timothy’s, during lunch break one day, Trinity sat in the cafeteria putting ketchup on her fries. She heard a friendly voice.

“Oh, you are in my class. My name is Tasha. You are Trinity, right?”

“Yes.”

“You hardly ever talk to anyone, but I am going to make you talk to me.” Tasha said.

“OK, Tasha. I’ll talk to you.”

“May I sit, here, with you?” Tasha asked.

“OK.” Trinity answered.

“What is that on the string around your neck?”

Trinity was embarrassed.

“It’s nothing.” she said.

“It is something. Tell me.”

“If I told you it is a diamond would you believe me?”

“It depends.”

“On what?”

“If your story is good enough.”

“Well, it is the biggest diamond in the world from King Solomon’s Mines. It was first owned by Emperor Haile Selassie I of Ethiopia. It was too small for him, so he gave it to the Queen of England when she went there for a visit. She didn’t have nearly as many diamonds as he did.”

“How did you get it?”

“It was on a chandelier that was taken down at my house.”

“How did the diamond get on a chandelier at your house?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t made up that part of the story, yet.”

Both girls laughed and talked until the bell sounded to go back to class.

“Can I wear it sometimes?” Tasha asked.

“Yes, you can, but only if you promise not to tell any one about it. If you do, the magic won’t work.”

“I promise. But, how come you told me?”

“I don’t know. Something just made me.” Trinity answered.

So Trinity took off the one and a half inch long tear drop shaped bauble and handed it to Tasha.

“You can wear it for a week then I will wear it for a week then you, again.” Trinity said.

“Thanks Trinity. I like it. I promise to take care of it and tell no one about our ‘diamond’.”

From then on, Tasha and Trinity were best friends. They sat next to each other in all of their classes and passed notes back and forth, each time adding a line to embellish the story about the ‘diamond’ or some other ‘jewel’.

When Trinity arrived at Café Martinique, Tasha was sitting on a sofa in the vestibule. As she approached her, she noticed the coral and gold necklace hanging seductively around Tasha’s neck. Whatever else Tasha wore was thrown in the shade.

“Tash!” she said. “Your mama finally let you wear it!”

“Yep, she sure did.” Tasha said, grinning from ear to ear and nodding like a three year old.

Trinity laughed and said, “You haven’t changed. Let’s go eat.”

She put her arm through Tasha’s and they both walked into the vaulted restaurant, giggling. They were seated by a pair of tall glass roll-away doors that afforded them a clear view of the outside through the breeze filled, twenty feet tall, white opalescent sheer illusion curtains.

“I am a forensic gemologist. I have to travel a lot when someone wants me to examine jewels that they already own or pieces that they want to buy. I travel by private plane because I am a Rock star….get it…‘rock’…like diamonds and emeralds….like a ‘Rock’ star.”

Both she and Trinity laughed. They each had so much to say. One question led to another. There was no way that they could tell each other what happened in their lives in those few hours at the restaurant and there were things that had to be said in private.

“My boyfriend, Robert is visiting from England next month. That’s where I went to school after we graduated. I hope that you are on the Island so that you can meet him.” Trinity told Tasha.

“If you give me the dates, I will make sure that I am.” Tasha replied.

Fire dancers performed on the court. In front, a dancer wearing an orange bikini performed the Limbo under a broiling flame engulfed bar. Those on the second line gurned and threw flamed balls high into the air. The dancers at the back threw up hoops of various sizes to each other while the others blew out blistering blue and orange flames from their mouths.

Without warning, Tasha said, “Did you ever tell anyone about me?”

Trinity replied, without hesitation, “No, and I never would.”

“I don’t know how to tell you what happened afterwards.” Tasha said, with knitted brow.

“I am your lifelong friend, your old friend. We haven’t seen each other in a while, but we can tell each other where we have been and what we’ve been up to. When you are ready to tell me, you will.”

“Thanks, T.”

Trinity looked at Tasha and asked in a mock harsh tone, “By the way, where is my diamond?”

Tasha opened her purse, took out the diamond and in an exaggerated manner, like she was slamming down dominoes, put it on the table, pushing it towards Trinity.

“It is right here! I carry it with me wherever I go.”

“Son of a bitch! That’s it. I never thought I would see it again. Now that I do, it looks so damn fake.”

“It’s beautiful. I held onto that many nights. You have no idea how much that piece of glass meant to me.”

Trinity raised her eyes and looked deeply into Tasha’s. At that moment, she knew that Tasha had been hurt.

“You didn’t have anyone to talk to?”

“Besides Mama, no. I am still a loner.”

“Well, we have each other back, now.”

Robert

Robert Nicholas Paget was born in 1950 and raised in Almondsbury, a large village in South Gloucestershire, England. The village was divided by steep hills. Rows of houses with smoke wafting out of endless chimneys overlooked open fields carpeted with snow. The aroma of burning coal saturating the air lain low on the land like fog over the ocean. The sky shimmered with Quail and the Great White Egrets against dense gray clouds trimmed with orange threads.

Roberts mother participated in Eastern influences and drifted towards Buddhism, Hinduism, Paganism, Kabbalah and, one after the other, to some alternative religions to the consternation of his father, Victor. By the time Robert was nine years old, Victor and Lydia were leading separate lives. Unbeknownst to his Father, his mother took him to Nepal for a festival during which over two hundred thousand animals were slaughtered in the two-day Hindu in honour of Gadhimai, the Hindu goddess of power. Millions of Hindus flocked to the ceremony in Bariyarpur. Although, traditional Hinduism forbids animal sacrifice or any meat processing, in one branch of Hinduism, known as Shaktism, worshippers believe that animal sacrifices bring them luck and prosperity.

Because cows are considered sacred by Hindus, the animals slaughtered were buffalo, chickens and goats. The aftermath of the ritual was the sight of thousands of decapitated animals, killed one after the other, by devotees, traditionally, with a kukri knife that looked more like a massive machete or hatchet. The slaughter repulsed him and he stopped eating meat right after that.

Before this festival, Robert didn’t mind going with her. He thought the trips were great fun. After that, he wanted no part of his mother’s ever changing new found beliefs and practices. Robert’s father was alarmed and petitioned the family court for an injunction to stop her from taking him out of school to participate in those practices. He also petitioned for the sole custody of Robert on the grounds that his wife was an unfit mother.

Robert’s parents finally divorced when he was eleven years old. His father received sole custody of him. It seemed to Robert that his mother was never the same afterwards. Although his father was a very loving, warm man, who fully participated in Robert’s life, he still felt guilt about the circumstances of his mother’s death. He remained a devoted Anglican and he believed in Yoga as a physical and mental part of holistic living.

The year Robert went to live with his father, they found his mother dead of a heart attack. Shortly afterwards, Robert was accepted at the University of Buckingham on the banks of the River Great Ouse. His father died, too, very quickly, after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the year Robert sat his Bar exams. Robert knew that both of his parents would have been proud that he graduated with first class honours.

During the flight to the Island, he was contemplative. He loved Trinity very much and their time together would be a test to confirm if she really was the one. The plan was for him to stay for two weeks, but afterwards, he had to go back to London to be Called to the Bar. He really hoped that Trinity would come back with him.

After a long day diving and fishing with friends, as their boat pulled into the harbour, The Sivananda Ashram Yoga Retreat was pointed out to him. He was glad to see it because he would have a place to commune. He hadn’t said anything to Trinity, but, if they married, he was willing to relocate to suit her. He would let her decide when he asked for her hand, formally.

Robert took Trinity to dinner to a little restaurant that she loved that over looked Balmoral Island and Sandy Cay, which just happened to be the backdrop for the opening credits for TV’s Gilligan’s Island. The sun was just setting. The moon caused the water to gently push and pull onto the shore. The winds rushed through palm fronds, twirling them in different directions. From their table, they watched boats coming and going through the harbour, heralded by the cries of sea gulls, as they flew in air force formation and with military precision.

While they waited on their main course and drank wine, with no grandiose gestures, he just asked her, “Would you be my wife?”

It was as simple as that.

Trinity looked into his steel grey eyes and said, “I’d love to.”

He put the ring, of three cushion shaped diamonds, in a row, on her finger. It was five carats in total. He leaned over and kissed her. Later that night, Trinity called Tasha.

“Hi, Tash.” she said.

“Hey, what’s up T?” Tasha asked. “How’s everything going with you and Robert? Since we had dinner the other night, I can’t hear from you, so I gather that you’re having a lot of fun.”

“Behave, girl.” Trinity said, blushing. “Will you be my Maid of Honour?”

“Why? Did he ask you to marry him?” Tasha asked, hurriedly, as she became excited.

“Yes.”

“Aaaahhhggggghhhhhh!!!!” she screamed. “Of course, I will be your Maid of Honour. I get to help you plan the wedding and everything, though.”

“Yes, Tasha.”

So many good things happened for those of us who grew up or matured into adulthood during the 70s. The globally famous dress designer, Diana von Furstenberg said, “‘Life was fun if you were young, pretty and successful in the 70s.”

Without a doubt anyone of the era can tell you where they were when the announcement came over the radio that Elvis was dead. Trinity remembered. It was on August 16th, 1977 and she was getting ready to leave for her and Robert’s pre-wedding dinner.

Robert and Trinity were married the following Saturday. Nica was born two years later and Trinity asked Tasha if she would, again, do her the honour of becoming Nica’s godmother. Tasha called Nica ‘my little Water Lily’ because she loved to float in water; first, in her bath then the pool, the ocean, a lake, anywhere. A few weeks later, after the Christening, Robert had his first episode of severe indigestion one night after dinner, followed by chest pain in the morning. He brushed off the symptoms as overwork on a case.

In 1990, on a Saturday evening in October, he, along with the members of the Men’s Fellowship, prepared the church for Harvest Mass Service. The aisle and pillars were decorated with sugar cane stalks, coconuts and plaited coconut palms, pumpkins, yams, sun flowers, cases of food and water. He carried in twenty cases of canned soup to be given to the Pensioner’s Home.

On Sunday they prayed:

Let us give thanks to God, the God of all peoples of the earth.

For the colour and forms of your creation and our place within it, we bring our thanks, good Lord.

Your mercy endures for ever.

For our daily food, and for those whose work and skill bring your good gifts to us, we bring our thanks, good Lord.

Your mercy endures forever.

Robert sang, along with the congregation, the traditional hymn, his favourite from home:

We plough the fields, and scatter the good seed on the land.
But, it is fed and watered by God's almighty hand.
He sends the snow in winter, the warmth to swell the grain,
the breezes and the sunshine, and soft refreshing rain.

All good gifts around us
are sent from heaven above.
Then thank the Lord, O thank the Lord
For all His love.

As usual, Robert and Nica sat together, near to the eighth Station of the Cross, where Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem. After Sunday school, she liked to sit with him instead of going to sit with the other children. He liked that and would sometimes hold her hand while they sang. Nica was thinking about the big lunch that she and her parents were going to for their wedding anniversary at her favourite restaurant.

After the hymn, they sat down for the readings and Robert opened his Bible, leaning closer to her. She put her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder before he fell forward onto the kneeler with a loud crash. Thirteen years to the day after they married Robert collapsed at the Harvest Service of Thanksgiving on that Sunday Morning. Trinity was sitting in the Cantoris side of the chancel leading up to the altar. She didn’t see Robert collapse to her right, but she saw when Father Raol, who was more directly in front of her, stop and reach out to him.

“Pray Brethren. Call an ambulance, please, Brother Strachan.” he said.

As Father Raol knelt down by Robert to start CPR, Trinity came out of the choir stall unsure of what was happening. She quickly reached him and knelt down beside him.

“What happened, Nica?”

“I don’t’ know. He just fell.” she said, crying, hysterically

The ambulance came very shortly afterwards and the paramedics continued with the resuscitation. As they were taking Robert to the ambulance, Trinity held Nica’s hand.

“Let me kiss Daddy.” Nica said, pulling away from her.

Robert was immediately rushed into surgery. After four hours, the surgeon came out to her. She knew from the look on his face that Robert had died. They found that he had a transected aorta and multiple blockages.

“He had a weak heart.” said the Cardiologist.

“He had a big heart.” replied Trinity.

On Fire

“Come to Dubai with me, please.”

“What am I going to do there while you work? I, sure as hell, don’t want to be around all that sand.”

“I just have to drop off a rock, then we’ll come right back the next day.”

“That’s fine, but I am not into that sand thing.”

Tasha never told anyone who she was working for and Trinity knew not to ask.

For Trinity, Tasha had the jet concierge service stock the plane with magazines that had articles about Mariah Carey. To say that Trinity loved Mariah Carey would be an understatement because she listened to Mariah every day. She found her songs comforting after Robert died.

After calling Trinity, twice, Tasha said, with some annoyance, “Put that magazine down and come to the table to eat.”

Trinity absentmindedly walked to the table, with the magazine in her hand, and continued to read it even while eating. At one particularly interesting note about Mariah’s five octave range, Trinity said, “Did you know that Mariah…………?”

“You are not going to read any part of that article to me.” said Tasha, harshly. “Please don’t.”

“Alright. Ease up. Sheesh!” said Trinity.

On arrival, they were driven to Tasha’s client’s Palace in Jumeirah. Tasha left almost immediately to meet with her client while Trinity was given a tour of the property. She had henna applied to her hands and was leaving the spa area when Tasha returned. Later that evening, they attended the birthday party for the Princess that was being hosted by her husband, the leading Sheik among the royal family. They ate a very indulgent dinner then they went to the Palace’s theatre for the entertainment; MARIAH CAREY!

“You shittin’ me, right?” asked Trinity.

It was a full concert, but it was very intimate for only about one hundred people from the party who were secretly invited to the entertainment. Mariah sang songs from her new second album that hadn’t even been released, as yet. She snuggled into the comfy chairs and allowed Mariah to serenade her as if she were the only one in the room.

Afterwards, Tasha said, “Let me introduce you to Mariah.”, as she gestured to Trinity to come close to her.

“You know her?”

Trinity was floored.

She looked at her friend and mouthed, “Thank You”.

Her friend said, “You’re welcomed”.

After their return to the Island, Tasha had to leave for her next assignment. It was in a Scandinavian country, where it was being whispered among the Palace staff, that the tiara of Queen Louise’s Diamond and Sapphire parure was fake. The brilliant sapphire and diamond set included a tiara, necklace, earrings, bracelet, a devant de corsage and two brooches. The tiara was sent to the official jeweler for cleaning and it was while in their possession that it was reported stolen. Immediately, an investigation was planned, but it was decided to cancel the investigation after the jeweler accepted all responsibility and offered to make a completely new tiara.

But then, as mysterious the circumstances were surrounding the theft of the tiara, so too, was its recovery. The jeweler said that the set was found in the personal possession of one of its employees and it was promptly returned to the Palace. The office of the Queen called Tasha and she declared that the recovered tiara was fake, or rather the tiara and stones, as they were presented to her to evaluate, were fakes.

The personal jewels of the Queen were kept in a Treasure Room almost fifty feet below the Heltborg Palace. At least two people were required to document the jewels as they were taken out, loaned and received back, but there had never been a large-scale valuation of the collection. She had never allowed any gemological study of them. Assessors outside of the palace had in the past attempted to make a valuation of the worth of her personal jewels, but, as she had always denied access to them, their valuations were purely guesses based on the descriptions of the jewels from photographs and the current market value of comparable stones. So, to have an outsider evaluate the jewels was unprecedented.

On that trip, Nica accompanied Tasha and brought along her roommate to keep her company and to sightsee and shop while Tasha worked. She did not know what Tasha was doing nor where she went to, but Tasha had a system that if she did not disable a feature on her phone, it would automatically activate the software that would send a message to Nica’s phone and also activate the tracking device inserted in the gum tissue of her left lower jaw.

Tasha was met at the palace by the assistant Private Secretary to the Queen who took her into a small salon, next to where the jewels were stored, and advised her on protocol. Tasha’s assistant set up her equipment in the red draped anti chamber where the jewels that Tasha was to examine were kept. A curator, accompanied by a security officer, brought out the parure and placed them on the table that was set up in the middle of the room. A further two suited palace footmen and two security officers stood around her. She also had all of the records brought to her and she started her evaluation.

About an hour later, the Queen entered the room and invited Tasha to sit with her by the fireplace.

“Won’t you join me for some tea?” Queen Louise asked.

“Thank you.” Tasha replied to the command that came across as a grand motherly request.

As the Queen poured the piping hot tea, Tasha noticed that she looked very…..Nordic; Green eyes, blond, very blond hair and tall, very imposing. Tasha took the first sip of the tea and she puckered. She hated it. To her, it tasted almost like Earl Grey, the English tea whose leaves are saturated with the oil extracted from the rind of the bergamot orange. She always thought it was awful. She forcefully swallowed the mouthful.

“You have a very interesting occupation. What made you want to become a Gemologist?” the Queen asked.

Tasha gave the same answer that she gave everyone, “My grandfather told me to.”

“Was he a jeweler?” the Queen asked.

“No, he was a horseman, but he had a huge interest in gemstones. I think that had he not been as good a horseman as he was, he would have probably been a jeweler.”

That was all she was ever going to tell anyone, the Queen included.

“The official jeweler was used for repairs and cleaning.” the Queen told Tasha. “But, I need another opinion.”

She was very helpful. She knew the provenance of all of her jewels.

Tasha told her, “My initial appraisal involves two basic steps: first identifying and evaluating the stones in the parure then assigning value to them as a group and individually. I would be able to tell you whether or not the stones are man-made or natural, whether or not they have been colour-altered, whether they have had permanent or temporary treatment added or whether they match the grading documentation provided by your official jewelers.”

Tasha continued, “The records should include information about the stones, such as, one, the carat weight, measurements, proportions, clarity grade, color grade, and cut grade, two, the fluorescence of the stones, which means the tendency of the stone to give off a faint glow when exposed to ultraviolet light, three, the polish or smoothness of the surface of the stones and last, symmetry, which means the degree to which the opposing facets mirror each other.”

“The grading documentation should be in records here, too, shouldn’t they?” the Queen asked.

“Most definitely.” replied Tasha.

“Technology advances every day.” she continued, “By now, all of the stones in the parure, and even so, all of the stones in your entire collection should have been registered and laser etched or branded. That would have ensured that in or out of settings, they could not have been switched out without your knowledge.”

The Queen poured herself another cupful. Tasha was still on her first cup. She very quickly swallowed it.

“Would you like me to pour, again, for you?” The Queen asked with the teapot already poised.

“Thank you.” she said, again, as she dropped four sugar cubes into the cup first.

She was going to have to gulp another cup of that retched tea down in one gulp. It had to cool a little first so she held the cup in her hand instead of putting it back on its saucer on the table, between sips, a faux pas. She hoped that she could get away with it, without offending the Queen, if she talked.

“Every diamond is unique. Every type of stone is unique. The technology that we use now allows us to quantify that uniqueness by producing a ‘fingerprint or brand’ just like we do in human beings. This information can be vital for insurance purpose. Also, if a stolen fingerprinted stone belonging to you shows up in an international database, you would be able to retrieve it by showing documentation that proves it is yours.”

The Queen nodded thoughtfully. She was very interested.

“Let’s use the tiara as an example. Did you notice any difference in the weight or look of it?” Tasha asked Queen Louise. “You have worn it hundreds of times. You, more than anyone, would notice.”

“Crown Princess Eva has been wearing the set, exclusively, for the past six years, but only a handful of times, until recently. The tiara had to have a minor adjustment to fit her better, but still I would be able to tell. After a certain amount of wearing, one should be able to tell a difference, like when you put your shoe on the wrong foot.” she laughed.

“May I try the tiara on you, then?” Tasha asked.

“Yes, of course.”

Tasha walked over to the table, retrieved the tiara and walked back to the Queen. Delicately, she placed it on her head. The Queen adjusted it. Tasha watched her move it around.

Finally giving in, she said, “I guess I have forgotten how to wear this.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It doesn’t feel right.”

“That’s what I suspected. Does it feel lighter or heavier?”

“Heavier.”

“Thank you. I’ll complete my examination and report my initial findings to you by this evening.”

The Queen left the room, followed by a footman.

As it was already dark, Tasha called Nica and told her to stay in the suite and order room service or go down to the restaurant or the spa, but, not to leave the hotel. She knew that she would not wrap up for another few hours. On completion of her examination that evening, she sent word to the Queen. She gave the jewels back to the curator. The Queen sent word back to her inviting her to join her, the Crown Prince and her Private Secretary in her apartments for dinner.

Tasha told them, “The frames of the tiara, necklace, bracelet, etc., are those that have been with your family for decades. Those are authentic and except for the tiara, the stones are flawless specimens. However, for the most part, the stones of the tiara are very poor quality diamonds and flawed sapphires and a good many are just coloured glass. When I asked you to put on the tiara you said that it felt heavier than you remembered. That was in line with what I suspected. Poor quality stones and glass are heavier. They are definitely not the ones that have already been catalogued by your curator, or, the previous assessment was wrong, either, as an honest mistake or by deliberate design.”

“How can that happen?” asked Queen Louise.

“I have gone through the records which are meticulous except for one thing; the jewels should have been examined, independently, at least once a year. The employee who took and replaced the jewels in the tiara knew that they weren’t and maybe the jeweler felt confident that they recovered the tiara. Otherwise, they should not have returned them to you, as is.”

She added, “To take out the flawless sapphires and diamonds would make sense because they could be flogged on the open market, much easier. But, to put inferior quality stones, and in many cases, just glass, back onto the frame does not make much sense. That process takes a long time and may account as to why it took this long for them to be ‘recovered’. The jeweler’s employee, definitely was in the position to do this, but his is not the only part of the charade.”

She had the undivided attention of the Queen, the Crown Prince and the Private Secretary. They remained silent, listening intently as they ate.

“This just brings into question why someone would go to all the trouble to replace the gems on their frame. Why not just take the gems and throw the frame into the ocean or melt it down and why did the official jeweler not make sure that everything was intact before they returned them to you? I feel that they did examine them and knew the condition of the stones. Not wanting to take the hit from their insurance company they hoped that the tiara would just be taken back and the difference not discovered.”

The Queen was appalled and shocked. She looked at the Crown Prince.

Tasha continued, “In terms of sentimentality, that was a priceless tiara, but, how could you prove that the stones in the recovered tiara were not the ones that were sent in the tiara to be cleaned? An assessment has not been done for over fifty years, but your jeweler should have also done an assessment on the jewels every time they had to clean or repair them and if anything was different from what it should be, they should have contacted your office right away before any work started. That is what a responsible jeweler should have done.”

The Queen was flummoxed. The Crown Prince looked just as bewildered and outraged.

“I believe,” she continued, “that the jeweler would not want to have this information known. I would suggest that they provide stones to have the tiara returned to the condition and standard that it should be at. I’m sure that neither party would want the public relations nightmare that could happen. Then, you should get a new jeweler.”

The story ended up in the newspapers anyway. The only thing they could not ferret out was the name of the gemologist who made the discovery.

Now that she was done, they had another ten days to fly to Munich, Prague and Zurich, but at the end, Nica noticed that Tasha was tiring quickly. She said she felt fine at first, but she had to admit that she was feeling worse and worse. When she said she was having abdominal pain and then vomited, Nica called the concierge to arrange for her to be seen by a private doctor at the hospital. She was kept overnight while blood tests were done, intravenous anti emeses given and fluids replaced. Gradually, Tasha started to feel better.

She was able to finish out the trip with the promise that she would be thoroughly investigated once she got back to New York. Nica and her roommate stayed with her for another week to take in the Broadway musicals, The Wiz and Evita, a TLC concert at Madison Square Gardens and a New York Yankees game.

When it was time to say goodbye, Nica started crying.

“Goddie, I had such a good time with you. I don’t want to leave you.” Nica told her.

Tasha was crying, too.

“I love you. I want to keep you with me all of the time, too, but I need you to learn everything that you can at school, for me. Stay and do all of your post grads while you are in a studying frame of mind. I know that your brain can handle it.” her godmother told her.

Tasha waved them off as the car service drove them back to their school in Connecticut. She had a plan for Nica and she knew that she would be up to it. She sometimes joked with Trinity that Nica was hers in a past life and now in this life, she was given to Trinity, like their ‘diamond’ bauble. She couldn’t love her any more even if she had given birth to Nica herself. She felt like Nica was hers and she thanked Trinity for allowing that.

Inez pronounced Inay

The gas company where Trinity was the Director of Human Resources closed its doors after filing for bankruptcy after oil leaks and civil suits crippled the company. Although not a surprise, it was still very stressful for her. Trinity worked diligently with the accountants to ensure that all employees were treated fairly. With the others in the executive team she calculated redundancy packages for all, but no one received the full amount that was due to them. There just was no money to do that.

Trinity would not be homeless, nor starve, but the thought of not having a job to go to made her very anxious. Tasha was concerned for her and offered financial help. Trinity knew that Tasha would give her anything for as long as she needed, but she declined the offer and asked for a rain check if times became desperate.

The month after the gas company closed, Trinity was buying conch and snappers on the wharf when Inez Sands approached and touched her on the shoulder.

Inez was a distant relation to Trinity, very distant. Trinity did not know of her as a child and in fact only met her when she was in her thirties. She told people that she and Trinity were cousins, but that was not true. They shared a last name and that was all. Trinity’s family wanted nothing to do with her. Inez was an aggressive, paranoid social psychopath who had to demean, belittle and pull others down to make herself feel good, which was unnecessary, because she was clever. She had no feelings and no shame and she was a bully.

“Hey cuz, looks like you are cooking for a crowd.” Inez declared.

“Not at all.” she answered.

“Yeah? When’s the party? Looks like I need an invite”.

“No party, just stuff for dinner.” Trinity replied.

Thankfully, her order was ready.

“Do you need any help carrying those bags?” Inez asked.

“No, thank you. I will be fine. They are not that heavy.”

“OK, well anyway…...I saw you on the road and followed you here. One of my staff quit and another is out on maternity leave. I am short staffed. Since you have experience in payroll processing would you fill in, starting tomorrow?”

Trinity, very badly, wanted to tell Inez no, but she didn’t like waking up in the morning and not have a job to do to. She shouldn’t have agreed, but she did.

Trinity told Tasha, “Inez asked me to come in tomorrow. She is shorthanded.”

“Inez? Sands? Or, is she still calling herself Inay?”

They both chortled because the pretentious little shit heard somewhere that the French pronounce “ez” as “ay“, so she pronounced her name as I-nay, spelled Inez.

“And, is she still dying her hair jet black?”

“It was so black. At her age, can you imagine?”

Once they recovered their breaths Tasha said, “I heard that she is not a nice person to work for. We know how awful she is.”

“I am hoping that she remains professional and we won’t have any issues.”

“OK, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The Work

On an ordinary Monday morning, Trinity pulled into the parking lot of the building where Inez’s office was. She waited to pull into a spot as two White Crown Pigeons dueled, with outspread wings, leaping off of the ground as they bared their talons to each other. Repeatedly jumping high, they seemed to be oblivious to their surroundings. After a while they flew off, allowing Trinity to park.

Trinity buzzed the outer door and walked into the office where she was curtly acknowledged by one of the clerks.

“Good Morning, I’m Trinity, how are you?” she asked.

“OK.”

She expected to be asked the same. Even getting a name would have sufficed.

“May I ask your name?”

“Dominion.” she was told, offhandedly.

“Dominion, Ms. Sands asked me to come in this morning.”

As a desk was pointed out to her, Dominion said, “Sit there.”

The payroll was not an issue. Of concern to her were the negative attributes that quickly surfaced. Trinity started to feel concern. Inez was completely arrogant, antagonistic and disrespectful towards clients, in particular Yvonne, a foreigner, who was a director of one of the client’s franchises. One day Yvonne called Trinity to say that they had decided to take their business from Inez, if she didn't make some changes. They wanted a better quality candidate pool, more assistance for the managers concerning the spreadsheets and dismissals, more confidentiality etc. She asked Trinity to please speak to Inez; otherwise, it was a done deal. When Trinity got off the phone she leaned back in her chair.

“How did it come to this?” she wondered.

Even though she was with the company for a relatively short period of time, she learned that Inez put blame on other people when she screwed up. She knew that instead of Inez agreeing that improvements had to be made, she would say that Yvonne and her boss, the owner of the franchises, were the cause of the problems, and Trinity, as well.

After she relayed the information, Inez said, “Jack sprat in reverse and his foreign wife can’t tell me how to run my business. He doesn’t control me or my office. The fat fucker needs to stop eating all of his profits and mind his own business.”

“It doesn’t make sense to attack them when all we have to do is make the changes. Their request is not unreasonable.” Trinity told Inez.

“This is my company. How the hell do you get off telling me what to do?”

From that point on, Inez made Trinity's life a living hell. She was having daily Rum and Zero fueled rants at Trinity on speakerphone from her house. The payroll software was nearly a decade old and crashed frequently, but Inez refused to pay for a service contract. The ability to save information and print reports were entirely dependent on the memory capacity of their computer system, which was over eleven years old. Trinity realized, also, that Inez had only paid for the right to use the software for a predetermined amount of payroll cycles. The closer they got to the end, the more failures occurred.

When a problem arose Trinity could not call the company because without a service contract each call was $75.00. During one very serious emergency Trinity advised Inez that they had no choice. She relented and the software company fixed the problem via remote link. Then she walked over to Trinity’s desk.

“Since you have been here, all you are doing is costing me money” Inez said.

Trinity looked up, confused, “Inez, how can you say that? I have had nothing to do with the software contract. It was in place before I got here. That is beyond my control”.

“But why can’t you figure it out? Are you a complete fucking idiot? You are not even smart enough to figure out this elementary shit.”

When Trinity read her pay statement for that week she saw that Inez had deducted the $75.00 from her salary. The all out assault on Trinity started. She tested the water and Trinity did not answer her back. She found the person to bully.

Inez very often cursed Trinity on speaker phone so that all the staff could hear. Trinity was the sole target of her written and verbal rants, during her rum and Zero fueled rages, nothing was off limits, nothing confidential. Trinity requested that she set up a private address and speak to her in private about issues concerning her, but Inez in turn sent more email that accused her of being a liar and a saboteur. She questioned her everyday about who she spoke with. She threatened to dismiss her in emails she sent for everyone to see, saying that she was trying to scuttle the company.

Worse, the other employees started to speak to her the way Inez did. In particular, Dominion (Minion for short) was by far, the worse. Very quickly, Trinity saw that the twenty one year old had an extremely violent temper that was explosive. Her outbursts were uncontrollable and unexplained and she was exceedingly infantile in her thought processes. Whenever Trinity tried to tell Inez about Minion, Minion would put on her ‘Poor me. Trinity is picking on me. I try to help her, but she doesn’t like me.’ performance.

Minion verbally abused Trinity in front of other staff and customers. This occurred almost everyday. Inez never corrected her because Inez was like that herself. This gave Minion license to behave the same way. In one particular instance Trinity asked Minion her reason for sending an email to the company’s bank without her approval.

Minion answered, with the palm of her hand facing Trinity, "I don't have time for you!"

On another occasion, Minion said, "Don't question me about the payroll. Ms. Inez said that I work for her and not for you, so I don't have to answer to you".

“You can’t just brush me off. I need to speak with you.”

“You need to come out of my face or else.” said Minion.

“You don’t need to be rude neither do you have to threaten me.”

“Threaten you? Do you want me to really threaten you? I could really threaten you!” said Dominion as she walked up to Trinity and stood toe to toe with her, with her face just inches away from Trinity’s.

“I’ll have to speak to Inez about your continued rudeness.” Trinity told her.

“Shut up. Whatever.” said Minion as she walked off like a dashboard bobble-head.

Minion’s boyfriend sat in the office, sprawled out on the sofa the way young men with no discipline do. Minion called Inez. She told Minion to put her on speakerphone. She told the staff that they did not have to listen to Trinity, and if she told them to do something that they did not like then they were welcomed to call her. Minion gloated and, that’s how it continued.

When a friend of The Legion was being dismissed, they called Inez and told her that Trinity was dismissing the young man for no reason. While speaking to the young man in her office, Minion barged in with the phone on speaker mode. Every one in the room and the young man’s family, waiting in the outer office, heard Inez’s rant.

“Inez, let me take this call off speaker phone”.

Trinity reached for the phone, but Minion snatched it away from her. Trinity was stunned.

“No. I want everyone to hear this”, Inez said.

All of them, including the young man’s family, heard Inez say that the client had no right to dismiss him. He was being dismissed because of improper cash handling procedures that resulted in his drawer being one hundred and sixty-four dollars and fifty-five cents short. That was not the first time it happened. He was retrained and counseled on two separate occasions. The client did not want to continue with his employment with them, but he and his family heard Inez say that the client had no right to dismiss him. The Pigs at the trough did not know and understand what was going on and they clearly had no thought as to what it was that the company did before they called Inez to save their friend.

Afterwards, Trinity called Inez and told her that the young man was sitting right in front of her and his family in the outer office heard everything that she said and without a doubt they would repeat it at a governmental labour tribunal review. In a flash, Inez was furious and played the blame game, again.

She screamed at the top of her voice, “You are so fucking incompetent. How could you let the family hear everything that I said?”

Trinity said, “I told you to let me take you off speaker phone, but you said no.”

“Trinity you are just a fuck up. Email this young man’s file to me and if you made any misstep with him you are going to pay out of your salary any wrongful termination payout that we have to. I can’t waste any more of my time with you right now”.

And, with that, Inez hung up on Trinity. Trinity was numb. The case played out exactly as Trinity warned her. During the Conciliation Meeting at the Labour Board, the young man said that the ‘Good Miss Sands-Inez’ told the ‘Bad Miss Sands-Trinity’ that he was not supposed to be dismissed, but the bad Ms. Sands did so, anyway. The franchisee’s manager did not know any of that. It was excruciating to see Inez justify what she said.

The Conciliator said to the franchise’s operation’s manager, “Your human resources office should be on one accord with you.”

Then, addressing Inez, he said, “There were clear grounds to dismiss. That decision should have been based on the law and nothing else. From what we heard, your office staff caused emotions to get flared up.”

The client walked out of the meeting first.

“I will call you when I get back to the office.” he said to Inez, coldly.

She and Trinity entered the elevator to exit to their cars. Inez said nothing to her. Trinity knew that that was not going to be the end of it. In some way, Inez was going to make her pay.

When an employee was dismissed, they had to return uniforms to the office. One Friday, Inez insisted that all returned uniforms be sorted and returned to the franchisees. On a previous occasion, when Trinity sorted dirty uniforms, she developed a hacking wet cough. A sputum test showed that she had pneumonia. She was given fourteen days sick leave. Inez kept calling her for ‘emergencies’. Trinity was only able to take two days.

When Trinity came back she suggested to Inez that the office should purchase and use face masks, gloves and Lysol. Inez refused. That following Friday, to spite Trinity, Inez told her she wanted the uniforms sorted that day. Trinity was still getting over the chest infection that had her wheezing. She told Inez that she would not be able to do that. Inez became incensed. In the corner of her office, behind her desk, was a stick roughly the same size of a baseball bat. On it were written the words, ‘Rod of Correction’. She stood with the bat in her hand, swinging it like baseball players up at bat.

“Sort out those uniforms, today, or don’t bring your ass back in here on Monday. You’ll meet this bat waiting for you.”

Trinity reminded her that, technically, she should have still been out sick and even though she had no obligation to do so, at her request, she returned. Inez said nothing. She just stared at her, with scorn.

Later in the week, a server was sent in for counseling. She was seen with a piece of gum in her mouth and when told to remove it by her shift manager, she refused. She said she needed it for bad breath. The shift manager told her again to take the gum out, but the server turned towards a potted plant and spit the gum into the potted plant.

After Trinity heard her side of the story, she told her to apologize to the shift manager on her return to work and after she left the office, Trinity called the General Manager of the restaurant to advise him that she would apologize. He told her that he was satisfied with the outcome.

However, the server went to work and offered no apology. Another manager asked why she hadn’t apologized. With an attitude she begrudgingly did so. However, the General Manager was also there at the time. He was not convinced of the sincerity of her apology, so, he told her to take the rest of the week off and when she came back to work, they would discuss it.

Instead of letting the issue lie, she told her good friend Minion and she and the rest of the Legions concocted a letter to be sent to the franchise owners stating how she was being discriminated against by Trinity. Minion called Inez complaining that her friend was being unfairly treated by the General Manager and was sent home. Trinity told Inez that Minion was biased and was crossing the line to become so involved. In any case, the employee came back to the office and asked if she could speak to Trinity. When she walked into her office, she closed the door. Seconds later, Minion barged in and sat down. She asked Minion to give her a second.

She said, "No! I am staying in here like I am supposed to do with all employees."

She said again, "Please give me a second".

She refused to leave again and said, "Too bad if you want me to leave, we'll just have to be in here all day if we have to".

Minion thrust the telephone at Trinity.

"Inez wants to talk to you". Then she stated to the room, "Inez don't play that. She will fix Trinity’s business for her, now. I am not going to let her fire my friend just like that".

On speakerphone, in a loud voice, Inez proclaimed that Trinity was dismissing the employee with no right. Trinity told her that she was not dismissing the employee, the employee asked to see her. Not listening to what Trinity was telling her, Inez continued to rant. The Legions stood, making comments and a big scene with the office filled with other franchise employees. Trinity told the employee to leave her numbers and she would call her later.

An hour later, Inez was still on the phone with Minion. Then, she told her to put Trinity back on the phone. Finally, Trinity believed that maybe she was getting through to Inez.

Then, Trinity made a startling discovery. She got up from her desk and walked to her door to close it. She saw them all hang up their phones when they saw her. They were all listening to her conversation on their extensions. Trinity did not know it, but they listened to all of her conversations, business and private.

Then Inez said, "You are running up my phone bill with this bullshit. Good bye.”

And she hung up on Trinity, again.

Three weeks later, Trinity received another disciplinary report about this young woman. She remained surly and rude. Customers complained about her. The General Manager of the franchise called to say that he was sending the young lady home for the rest of the week because she was off for seven days and did not produce a sick slip until someone brought it in an hour after she was due to start her shift on her return. He said that the franchise had enough and wanted to dismiss her, in no uncertain terms. From this point on, collectively, they transformed into the ‘Pigs at the Trough, The Legion of Demons’.

Afterwards, many things that Inez said to them, behind her back, started coming out. Because they had no life experiences and had no prior jobs, the other staff members, Charlotte and Imani, did not know that what Inez and Minion did was unprofessional. They could not make appropriate business decisions based on law. What was right and what was wrong was irrelevant. Their decisions were based purely on their emotions. During a particularly humiliating attack, Inez told Trinity to write an email to a client about a chain of events that did not happen.

“I can’t say that, Inez. It didn’t happen the way that you want me to say.”

“I am telling you to do it.”

Trinity did not want to put her name to a report that did not happen because if the outcome was disastrous, Inez would say that she was did not approve the email and could use it against her and dismiss her.

“I can’t do that Inez. I can send an email stating what actually happened.”

“Then get your fucking hands off my computers.”

In front of everyone, Inez hit Trinity’s shoulder and pushed her away from the computer. Trinity got up and tried to walk away, but Inez followed her. She pointed her finger in Trinity’s face, less than an inch away. Trinity thought she was going to hit her again.

“Don’t!” Trinity told her.

“And what are you going to do?”

Trinity said to herself, “Walk away, walk away. She is not worth it.”

“Yeah, just like I thought. Nothing. You are so weak.”

Trinity reeled in disbelief. The Legion’s eyes were on her, gloating and sneering, but she could not answer.

By mid September, the heat was intolerable. The October rains did not abate. Everywhere was muddy. Drain pipes became blocked and sewers overflowed. But, even during this, Inez still refused to allow Trinity to hire a cleaner. She said that the administrative staff had to clean the office, themselves. With the amount of foot traffic, the office and bathroom were always filthy. There was no kitchen, so lunch cutlery and tea cups had to be washed in the lavatory.

Earlier, in June, Inez stopped Trinity purchasing supplies like basic hand towels, trash bags, and cleaning products from petty cash, so Trinity had to purchase her own supplies, for her own use. One day, it was noticed that Inez was behaving oddly. She looked pained. She went inside the one-stall lavatory then came out immediately, again. She looked into the now empty supplies’ closet. The universal sign of bowel distress was clearly written on her face.

Trinity ignored this, until Inez asked, “Does anyone have toilet tissue?”

Trinity slowly offered a roll that she purchased and kept in her desk drawer. Inez grabbed it and flew to the lavatory with clenched butt cheeks. She slammed the door shut. Everyone could hear the ‘poomp splat’ sound resonating, echoing staccatos off the tiles in the lavatory, like explosive Morse-code. She barely made it in time to release the pressure of the shit and piss which had built up in her. Immediately on exiting the lavatory, she came over to Trinity’s desk and put the roll of toilet tissue down in front of her. Trinity spotted something on the cut edge and peered closer to it.

Unmistakably, there was the dark stain of feces. Trinity threw the whole roll into the garbage. Inez left the office, but not before the office filled with customers all smelled the un-mistakable odour of someone who had defecated on themselves. From then on, she allowed the purchase of toilet tissue, but nothing else. And, she never thanked Trinity for the assist. For a long time, even longer, every time Trinity recalled this, she laughed a deep-throat-opening-can’t-catch-your-breath-laugh, until her sides hurt.

The Decision

Trinity requested vacation leave which Inez did not want to give, but she eventually relented. She left for New York and Tasha’s townhouse on East 64th Street in the Upper East Side. Everything was already planned and scheduled. The hospital procedure, which Tasha was having, was very important because the testicular tissue that they were looking for could be cancerous.

While waiting for Tasha in the recovery room, she remembered that afternoon when they were both young girls on Christmas break and she heard the argument that Tasha’s parents were having about her. She remembered when she first heard the word that her father called her.

She and Tasha were running through the house. They were going to ask if Tasha could go to the basketball game with Trinity’s family. They heard the argument as they were going up the stairs to her parent’s bedroom. It was a heated argument about Tasha.

“We’re not waiting any longer.” he ordered.

“Please, Alex?” her mother begged. “Let’s get all the facts first. Tasha has to make the choice herself, please.”

“She is not matured enough to make that decision. We have to do what we think is best for her, now. How long do you want her to stay as an ‘Hermaphrodite’?”

Trinity wasn’t sure of what she heard. She wasn’t sure what that word was, but whatever it was, she felt that Tasha’s parent’s argument about her meant something bad. Tasha stood rooted, head down, looking ashamed.

“When she graduates this summer, we’re going back to Palm Beach and she’ll have the surgery, there. That’s the end of it.” he shouted at Janice.

Trinity took hold of Tasha’s hand and led her away.

“Come Tasha.” she said softly.

They walked down to the beach. Trinity sure hated the feeling of that sand, but she took her friend and she sat with her to help calm her. Through utter fear and humiliation, Tasha told her what her parents were arguing about.

Tasha said that she started to realize that something was different about her after hearing her father ask her mother, frequently, if her penis began to grow, yet. That question was always followed with his opinion that it would need to be surgically removed, very soon. This would lead to her mother crying and pleading that he leave things alone and not rush her into surgery when no one asked her what she wanted to do.

She gradually realized that other little girls did not have what she had; only little boys did. She felt like an oddity. She was afraid of the ridicule and afraid that she would be ostracized if classmates discovered the abnormality in the school changing rooms. Trinity said nothing while Tasha spoke, but her tears flowed and stung her eyes and her heart ached because her friend was suffering.

Tasha always wore shorts under her uniform, but most of the girls did so that was not a clue. Her Pediatrician issued a waiver letter to the school notifying them that an illness prevented her from taking part in swimming classes and asked for an alternative sporting activity so that she could make up her scores in Physical Education. That didn’t happen often, but she knew of other students who got a waiver from swim class. In all other sports, Tasha displayed a natural athleticism. But, she never undressed out in the open. Instead, she went into one of the toilet cubicles. To Trinity, she didn’t act any differently than any other girl, but other girls in her class started to figure out that something was wrong.

On the beach, Tasha told Trinity that she tried to figure out what her penis was for. She said that she couldn’t pee with it and after seeing a dog in heat, she went to the library to read about human reproduction.

“I tried to squeeze it to see if it would grow. It didn’t. It just got sore.”

“Let me see it.”

Self consciously, Tasha slowly opened her shorts, pulled down the front of her panty and leaned back. She avoided looking at Trinity. Trinity got closer to look.

After a few seconds of inspection, she said, “OK, I mean, what’s the big deal? Do you like having it or do you want it taken off.”

“I want it taken off.” Tasha said as she pulled the front of her panty back up.

“Then tell Aunt Janice, Tash.”

“I guess you don’t want to be friends with me, anymore.”

“Don’t be silly.” Trinity said. “I am your friend for life, remember.”

Tasha felt much better. “Thanks T.” she said.

“Yeah.” Trinity said off handedly. Pointing to them, she said, “Aunt Janice and Uncle Alex are coming, looking for you.”

A few weeks later, at school, Tasha and Trinity went into the sports complex for their PE class. Tasha always made it a point to go into the changing rooms ahead of everyone else to avoid being seen while putting on her gym clothes. She walked ahead of Trinity and went straight into one of the toilet cubicles. Trinity went into the locker area that was partially hidden from view of the three girls who came in looking for Tasha. Trinity could hear them taunting her.

“Come out, Tasha,” said their ring leader, “or we’re going to come in under the door. Let us see you. Let us see your titties. We are going to tell everyone that you have deformed titties. That’s why you won’t put on a bathing suit. That’s why you don’t go swimming.”

One of the girls kneeled on the floor looking up at Tasha from under the door gap. Tasha was cowered in the corner of the cubicle holding her clothes to her body, petrified. Trinity was enraged and ran to the bathroom and, in a fury, flung open its door.

“Yeah, I heard that you are a bunch of lesbos and dykes. I’ll tell every one that you tried to see another girl’s private parts. I’ll tell them you like to feel girl’s titties. That’ll make you get expelled. I’ll bet your parents wouldn’t like that. I’ll tell them that you tried to feel up Tasha.” Trinity told them.

The girls said nothing.

“So, from now on, every time you see Tasha, you are going to show her respect and you have to say, “Hello, Tasha. How are you?” in a very nice way, because, if I hear that you didn’t, I’m gonna tell the Headmaster that you tried to jump us in the bathroom. If I hear any talk about Tasha, I am going to think that the talk came from you and I’m still going to tell the headmaster. So, you better make sure that you don’t say anything so that I don’t hear anything.”

She held the door open to let the three girls out. As they passed in front of her, she kicked each one up the backside, causing one to fall.

“Get up before I kick you again.” Trinity said, threateningly.

Then, she calmed down and went to the cubicle where Tasha was crying.

She said, “Tash, come out, now.”

“No. I am not. Everyone thinks I am a monster.”

“No. Tasha. Not for the reason that you think. They just wanted titties, just titties.”

Tasha burst out laughing. Trinity was in stitches. She opened the door.

“They are so stupid.”

“Thanks, T.”

Tasha decided that day that Trinity was the best friend that anyone could have. She braved being beat up in a bathroom to defend her and she would never forget that.

Tasha’s father was not a mean man and he loved Tasha. He thought he was doing the best with what medicine recommended to him. He was the old school ‘you need a man to make a man’ type of person, so, he felt guilty that he bred, what to him, was a sexual aberration, as if it reflected that something was wrong with him.

When Tasha and Trinity graduated, Tasha’s family suddenly left the Island. Her father took on a job in Palm Beach, close by where her grandfather lived. She did not get to tell Trinity goodbye and Trinity had no clue where she went to. Trinity knew that during the previous year’s summer break, Aunt Janice took Tasha to a specialist suggested by Tasha’s Pediatrician, but she didn’t remember where. After all the tests were completed, her father accompanied Tasha and her mother to his office.

Dr. Hershel Gump spoke with them, while Tasha waited outside in the reception area. “Let me just go over, again, the situation that we have here. Tasha has a congenital condition commonly referred to as Hermaphroditism. Hermaphroditism is an old word coined after Hemaphroditos in Greek mythology and literature; a boy, who was transformed into an androgynous being with ambiguous genitalia. That is, a person who has both female and male genitalia in some combination of the two.”

“The appearance of the genitalia varies widely in this condition, but the term, Hermaphroditism, is considered to be misleading and stigmatizing, so, now, this condition has been renamed to reflect exactly what it is: An Ovotesticular Disorder of Sexual Development and we now say that a person diagnosed with this condition is Inter-sexed.”

“The chromosomal studies make us believe that Tasha has the condition known as Swyer syndrome, or XY gonadal dysgenesis. Traditionally, with the ability to see chromosomes, female chromosomes are denoted as XX and the male chromosomes are noted as XY. She is XY in body, but her psychiatric profile tells us that she is XX…but, we now know that some females carry the XY chromosome, as well.”

“The scans show that she has female sex organs; vagina, uterus and a left fallopian tube and what appears to be an ovary, but it is actually a streak gonad. She has a right fallopian tube, but no right ovary. There also appears to be one right testis, but it is actually another streaky gonad. Obviously, also, there is a rudimentary, non functioning penis.”

“Streak gonads develop instead of mature ovaries (in girls) or testis (in boys). Gonadal findings may be any combination of ovary, testis, or ovotestis. An ovotestis is most common. Streak gonads do not produce hormones, as do ovaries or testis, so, puberty does not naturally develop. These gonads should be surgically removed because they have a very significant risk of developing into cancerous tissue.”

“By now, she should have started to menstruate and develop breasts, so she has not entered the puberty stage of her life and she should start hormone therapy right away so that it could happen. Supporting treatment would include hormone replacement therapy with estrogen to feminize her and progesterone so that she will commence menstruation and develop breasts along with testosterone blockers to de-masculinize her.

“I suggest that it is best to remove all of her male parts as clearly she has female organs and the penis would not function in any meaningful way. As a matter of fact most of the children have an inadequate phallus and are raised as females.”

When the nurse brought Tasha into the office Dr. Gump asked her if she wanted to have it taken off. He told her that she could have surgery to remove the penis. Tasha was very happy that they were going to take it off. She didn’t want it there. She could not pee with it and it just made her look funny in her panty. She was scared, but her beloved grandfather told her that, if she wanted to, he would come to the hospital to be with her.

It was planned to remove both streak gonads, as well. However, the surgeon could only locate the right streak gonad. The left one was not located, but he did not report this to Tasha’s Pediatrician. She went home after eight days and came back to the specialist’s office to change her dressings. He was satisfied that she was healing well.

Even though she was still a little sore, she felt unfettered. It was gone. She was free. Hallelujah! She wanted to shout it to the clouds and blow kisses at the stars. She wanted to swim and dive into the ocean and tell all of the mermaids and mermen. She never had to look at it, ever again. If she could, she would have cannon balled into the school’s pool. She felt like she was in a different life, a different person. She did not forget about Trinity, but life was so different for her now.

Tasha’s New Life

Tasha was accepted at the University of Miami on her first try. In fact, it was the only college that she applied to and she started experiencing life at a greater speed than she did on the Island. She grew up there. It was in her ‘blood’. But, there, she was always anxious and afraid to be found out and called a freak. Now, she was no longer self conscious. She no longer suffered the self doubts or the feeling of fear of being discovered and being shamed. Now, she felt comfortable in her skin. She wanted to forget that other life because she was enjoying her new life with a different perspective. No one could find out her secret and call her and call her an abnormality of nature, anymore.

As much as possible, over the weekends, Tasha spent time with her grandfather refining her riding skills and learning all aspects of the management of horses. He did not favour her over any employee, so she had to pull her own weight and she performed every chore; whether it was washing the horses, cleaning the stalls or helping the veterinary. And, when they were home, she also loved to hear him talk about jewelry and gemstones.

She first saw Carter Beeson in the Ratskellar on campus. There, students on a break from their studies, gathered over pints of beer, hamburgers, pizza, nachos and tacos. She felt so good that she could be attracted to someone and not feel ashamed and defeated out of the gate by a piece of flesh that looked like a penis. That’s how she looked at it. The knowledge that she did not have to explain it was enough for her, she felt unencumbered. She came to study, but with her insecurities gone, interacting with him felt good.

She saw him almost every day. He lived in the frat house across the field from the commons and was usually with one of his house mates. Carter was of stocky build with light blond hair and expressive Persian lime green eyes. He spoke with a clear New England accent with the very slightest lisp. His great grandfather emigrated from Ireland, met his wife in Maine and with her, raised six children while he worked in the tuna cannery. It was to his pride that he raised them to be fine upstanding adults. Some worked in the cannery with him.

Carter was the spitting image of his grandfather who didn’t want to work in the cannery, one of hundreds in the fishing industry, for the rest of his life. Instead, he went to the local college at night and earned his law degree. The law firm that he started was one of the biggest on the eastern seaboard and known for championing worker’s rights. Carter was following in his Grandfather’s and Father’s profession.

Tasha was invited by Carter to a party being held by his fraternity. He was with two of his house mates when he asked her to come. She had never been to a frat party before and she looked forward to it. From the moment she arrived, the first thing that hit her was that there was a lot of drinking. Students were walking around with their plastic cups of beer, already paired up and sloppy.

Others sat on anything and made out or danced wildly to Heavy Metal and Rap in some of the back rooms. She walked around for a while, looking for Carter. She didn’t see him or anyone that she knew, still, she decided to wait for a minute. She found a plastic bench on the front porch and sat down. After a student, followed by another, running, spilled beer on her, she decided to get up and look around one more time. This time, she saw him by the keg on the table, in the back yard. He waved her over to him.

“Hey Carter.” she said.

“Hi, can you hang for a while. I have this beer station, but I will be finished in about an hour.”

“Sure.” she said, hoping to convey that she was patient.

Tasha felt great that he singled her out. Her heart was beating wildly. The time that she sat waiting for him felt like an eternity. She noticed, though, that he was always talking to a girl, really close and she didn’t like that. She wondered if she was just being jealous because she was so attracted to him. But, she didn’t enjoy being at the frat house and the person who invited her was giving other girls more attention with soft whispers and sultry hand contact, so she decided to leave. She went to the library, instead, sat down and researched a paper for her geography class. She decided to forget about Carter.

She couldn’t wait for the Christmas break to go back to the stables. She had become a very proficient rider, so much so, that she could ride any horse. After hearing her grandfather talk about the way that women rode, in his day, and reading about it, she wanted to learn to ride side saddle. She liked the elegance of it. He arranged for a riding coach to come in on the weekends. She, along with three other females, was to start the class at six in the morning.

Her grandfather told everyone that unless you were the big boss (meaning him), if you rode a horse, you took care of that horse. So they had to start early, first by mucking out the stalls. After the class, they had to wash the horses down and groom them.

As far as she knew, only females rode side saddle until she heard about Corazon de Lima, whose family was from Cuba. She heard that he was a really good rider who competed in Dressage. He pestered her grandfather to allow him to join the class.

Corazon’s father, Juan Carlos, was once a very wealthy, pro Batista, anti Castro supporter who hosted the Duke and Duchess of Windsor during their stay in Cuba. He, along with his wife and the then fifteen year old Corazon, escaped Cuba in 1965 and made their way to Miami. His father became the leader of a group of Cubans in exile who championed the release of anyone who wished to leave Cuba, culminating in the Mariel boatlift in 1980. Precipitated by the worsening economy in Cuba, due to the U.S. economic embargo, the Cuban government agreed that they would allow anyone who wanted to leave, the freedom to leave.

In one week, over one hundred and sixty thousand Cubans fled from Mariel, Cuba to Florida in rickety boats and rafts, some with old 1950 cars on them. It was said that Fidel Castro emptied his prisons and mental hospitals as a big fuck you to the American government who continued with economic sanctions against his dictatorship. If you remember the movie Scarface, with Al Pacino, it was from the Mariel boatlift that he and relatives ended up in detention centers in Dade County.

Corazon was obviously a transvestite, whether he was a transsexual she didn’t know. He came in full makeup and wore his black hair, which was so shiny and slick that it looked like he had rubbed bacon grease through it, sleekly pulled into a bun low at the back of his head. A hair net, which matched his hair colour perfectly, was pulled over the bun. He wore a ruffled front, short sleeved, white blouse. There was something about him that made her cautious.

He was riding Caesar, her grandfather’s favourite horse. Caesar, a warm blood Morgan, was the first horse that he bought after he started as a groom there. Caesar was a very good show horse and competed in Dressage before he was retired and put to stud. He tolerated riders of different abilities, but with Corazon, he became more and more skittish, then outright scared.

Tasha soon realized that Corazon was overusing his spurs and whip. He used the sharp eight point rowels of his spurs to dig deep into his Caesar’s sides. Her grandfather had banned the use of this type of spur on his horses. Anyone caught using them was not allowed to ride any of his personal horses, again. Repeated infraction of the rule resulted in the rider not being allowed to ride any horse at the stables, ever again.

Corazon’s boots delivered one painful jab after the other and his whip stung the horse’s hind. Caesar reared up in pain then hit the side of the fence and fell over. Corazon was flung to one side. The horse came down hard, breaking his legs and ribs and lacerating his liver. The internal bleeding restricted his breathing and pressed on his heart. Blood poured out of his nose as his nostrils flared. Caesar quickly laboured to inhale. The fetlocks, namely the metacarpophalangeal and metatarsophalangeal joints in his lower hind quarters were cracked open revealing the marrow. Splinters of white bone jutted through and sliced muscle and tendons.

Caesar was already suffering and panicked. The trainer blew her whistle again and again. The emergency crew came quickly on foot, on horseback, in golf carts and on all terrain vehicles in response to the call put over the loud speakers. Tasha dismounted and ran to his side. She wanted to sooth him, but he thrashed so wildly, a stable hand pulled her away.

Her grandfather ran over, on arthritic knees and ankles, from the corral where he had been all morning, overseeing a breeding cycle. What he saw caused him to stop dead in his tracks and throw his hands up. Although he was shocked, he knew immediately that Caesar could not survive the injuries and had to be euthanized.

As the veterinary worked to sedate Caesar using a dart gun, Tasha told her grandfather what happened. He listened intently while looking at Caesar, the concern deeply written on his face. The concern became anger and he raised his eyes to look at Corazon, who was cowering by the fence.

A groom picked up Corazon’s whip and threw it at him. Her grandfather walked over to Corazon with fire in his eyes. Corazon picked up the whip and tried to block being grabbed around the neck. Instead, her grandfather grabbed the whip from Corazon and raised it to strike him.

“No, Pops!” she said.

She took the whip from him, threw it on the ground and led him to the office. The trainer, the farrier and the stable manager stayed with Caesar. Dr. Agnes Peterson, the stable’s long time Veterinary followed after she had sedated Caesar. She walked over to a table holding water bottles, opened one and drank it.

“He can’t survive those injuries.” she said. “He’s just suffering. I had to dart him to sedate him. He wouldn’t let me near him, otherwise.”

Her grandfather nodded.

Dr. Peterson continued, “We’ll have to do it, very soon. He won’t stay sedated for long; the dart doesn’t hold that much Detomidine. I’ll give him the shot, but if you want to go back out to him, you should do it now.”

Her grandfather nodded again and said quietly, “Yes”.

Tasha helped him up and together they walked back to Caesar. Janice stood with a large crowd of employees and riders who gathered around Caesar. Some asked what happened, all looked on in horror, some cried. Grandfather knelt down, painfully, by Caesar and rested his head in his lap. He whispered into his ear as he comforted him.

“We shall meet again soon, my friend.” he said.

As grandfather held Caesar’s head in his lap, Dr. Peterson injected Embutramine, Chloroquine and Lidocaine directly into his heart. Pops felt as Caesar slipped into unconsciousness and stopped breathing. Dr. Peterson listened with her stethoscope for any heartbeats. None were heard. There was no pulse on palpation. Caesar had very quickly expired.

The trainer made Corazon watch Caesar being put down. When it was done, two grooms picked him up and threw him into Caesar’s stall. He was supposed to have cleaned it out before he mounted anyway, but since he didn’t, he was made to roll in it. One of the trainers grabbed a wheel barrow full of dirty straw, manure and urine and shoveled it slowly on top of Corazon, who cried like a bitch. They made him stay in the stall while it was decided what to do with Caesar’s remains.

Tasha’s grandfather gave directions to have Caesar buried up in the north pasture on a slight elevation close to the pine forest. It overlooked the stables. Caesar’s groom, Mula, grabbed Corazon by the collar and pushed a shovel in his hand, the same one that was used to shovel the manure on top of him. As he dragged Corazon along, a group of men, all carrying shovels, followed.

Another employee, driving a back hoe, led the way. However, once there, the employee parked the backhoe, came out of its cab and lit a cigarette.

Mula motioned to the ground and told Corazon, “Start digging!”

They made him dig the hole by himself as they all looked on, in silence. The following morning, an already hot morning in August, Tasha’s grandfather called to her. He looked old, wizened, pained.

“I have something else to tell you before I go.”

“Where are you going?” she asked him.

He told her a story about a Grand Duchess, a Grand Duke and a necklace.

“The Grand Duchess left all of her assets to me. I have willed them to you. Once you get a package from my attorney you will know how to claim them. Finish your studies, become a Forensic Gemologist and get the Ansbach Necklace back.”

Her much loved grandfather died that night of a suspected heart attack. He was old, but not sick, as far as she knew. However, the previous day really upset him. She had never seen him that angry before. She would never believe that he died of any reason other than what happened to Caesar.

She was happy to see her father when he came for the funeral, but she seldom saw him after that. He was always somewhere cutting and laying great highways over mountainous terrain or building six mile long bridges over great stretches of water. He worked laying roads through the Amazon. He was a loving father, except that he was always somewhere else.

Tasha’s grandfather left the stables in trust to her to be run by her mother, Janice, who rode very well, herself. For the five years prior to his death, she managed the administrative offices. She was so lonely with Tasha’s father being away for such long periods of time, she engrossed herself in everything she could learn about running it.

Tasha’s grandfather knew that Janice was very capable and he was right. She hired an additional stable manager, surrounded herself with experts, expanded the race facilities and built a state of the art stud facility. The business continued to thrive. She encouraged Tasha to go on with her studies, to persevere, but Tasha still went to the stables as much as she could. She always felt like her grandfather was just in another part, like he always was. His presence was still very much a part of it.

Tasha & Carter

She saw Carter again at the recreational pool, halfway through the fall semester. The sun was now a golden rose colour. After swimming twenty laps, she stretched out on a cushion covered wood lounger. She wore a black bikini, with gold coloured embellishments, with attitude. A big floppy black straw hat kept the sun off her face. One arm was on top of the lounger above her head and a book was balanced on a bent knee.

She saw Carter come to the pool, stopping to talk with a group of friends who stood around in the shallow end of it. Tasha watched him closely. When he saw her he waved to her then dived in. He swam one lap and climbed out at the deep end of the pool where she was. When he climbed out, he seemed to move in slow motion as he shook his whole body to release the water from his skin.

He smiled and his green eyes sparkled. As he was making his way to her, a blond girl walked up to him and pulled him over to her group, where he stayed. Tasha figured that maybe he really wasn’t waving to her after all. She used to be more than a little annoyed with these female blockers and always vowed to be more pro active, but by this time, she wasn’t bothered at all. She picked up her book and was very involved with the story when she heard a voice over her.

“Hi Tasha.” he said.

She looked up, squinting in the sun.

“Hey Carter.”

“I haven’t seen you since last semester?

“I know. My Pops died.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks. It was intense.”

“So, are you going to the midnight show for Hallowe’en?”

“I hadn’t planned to.”

“Why don’t you come? It’s the Rocky Horror Picture Show.”

“No. I wouldn’t want to be there as a single.”

“You wouldn’t be. You are coming with me.”

“Carter, did you even notice that I had left that frat party?”

“Sorry, I had to work it.”

“OK.”

“But, I am not working tonight. I’ll be just me and you.”

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, like a date. I’ll meet you down in your commons lobby at eleven-thirty and we’ll walk over there.”

“OK. See you then.”

“Hey Carter!” they both heard that blond girl, standing by the pool steps, say again.

“Comin’.” he said to her. Then he turned to Tasha, and said, “See you later.”

Tasha had a great time. From then on, they were together. They spent Thanksgiving at his parent’s house and Christmas at her mother’s house.

Tasha graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Geology then went on to Graduate school for her Masters in Mineralogy. She also received further training under the Gemological Institute where she trained under a master Gemologist whose knowledge of historical jewels was unrivaled. He was one of the top three go-to Gemologists in the world who was called to verify very difficult cases. Tasha earned his trust and respect when she went against him in a case where she rightly declared and proved to him that two sapphires and three emeralds in the Crown of St. Wenceslas were fakes.

The Crown of Saint Wenceslas was a part of the Crown Jewels held in The Czech Republic. Charles IV had it made in 1347 for his coronation. He dedicated it to the first patron saint of the country, St. Wenceslas, and bequeathed it as a state crown for the coronation of future kings, his successors to the Bohemian throne.

On his orders, the Royal Crown was permanently deposited in St. Vitus Cathedral in Prague Castle near the remains of St. Wenceslas. Copies of the Crown Jewels were displayed for everyone to see, but, the real ones were locked away, out of the public eye, behind doors that required eight keys to open. Since being deposited in the Castle, the originals have only been taken out a handful of times to check their condition. The last time was twenty years prior, when the copies were made.

“How can that be?” he asked her. “It takes eight very responsible government officials, each with a key, to open the door in the church where they had been kept for hundreds of years. They did not have the kind of expertise, in those days, to make fake jewels.”

“But, the copies are relatively new. Obviously, they are very good or the country would not use them to represent what is locked away. I think that the jewelers, who studied the original regalia and made the copies, are responsible for the switch.”

The matter was very covertly investigated and she was proved to be right. The jeweler returned the gems then hanged himself. Since then, she kept the trust of the Master for her knowledge and integrity.

Carter Beeson went on to graduate school in Law and joined his family’s firm, heading the Entertainment and Sports Law office. He proposed with a five carat yellow diamond ring. She immediately had it fingerprinted. They got married soon after graduation at his family’s estate in Maine with mostly his family and a few of their college friends in attendance.

Immediately, he wanted lots of babies, but when Tasha wasn’t getting pregnant and she did not seem concerned about it, he wanted to know why. He brought up the subject, over and over, as his colleagues and friends of his age, by that stage in their marriages had two or three children, already. She felt under siege by his parents and his friends who all brought up the subject constantly.

“Are you taking those birth control pills?” he asked her. “You are not supposed to be taking contraceptives. I am Roman Catholic. We are supposed to have children.”

“I am not trying to avoid getting pregnant, Carter.”

“So, maybe we should try IVF.”

Tasha told him, “I don’t feel like I am ready, yet. You are already a vice president at your family’s firm. I am just making my reputation and now you want me to just give it all up and have IVF now. There are still things that I want to achieve.”

Carter asked her, “Like what? What’s more important than raising a family?”

“That’s not what we agreed Carter. You knew what I wanted to achieve first. I am no Ethel Kennedy. It just feels like you are in a competition with your brothers and sisters to see who can produce the biggest clan.”

She felt betrayed by him because they had a promise to see the world and get their careers (hers and his) going. More than that, she was afraid again. She should have told him before, but now, how was she going to explain this very big secret? IVF involved a lot of scans and examinations. He would surely find out, so she stalled making an appointment to see a specialist.

Then, she started to see some of his old traits coming back; the little flirtations with other women, his hand always finding and resting too long at the small of their back. He would draw her to him close, so that he could whisper in her ear. It was always some soppy girl who felt good that she was being lavished with his attention. Then, he started going to social events by himself, with no explanation. He became angry when she asked him about it. After one event, he didn’t return her calls after she tried to reach him for a whole weekend.

She decided that for the sake of her marriage she would see someone, by herself, to find out what her options were to conceive a child. Medical discoveries and cures were being found all the time. Maybe there was some new treatment for her, she hoped. Of concern for her, too was whether her secret would be found out.

Dr. Veronica Davies welcomed her into the examination room. Once Tasha was changed she started the examination. Tasha’s mouth was dry. It was making it hard for her to swallow. It felt like her throat had closed up. Her heartbeats quickened and she started to sweat.

She said, “I am inter-sexed. I had a phallus and testes removed. Would that prevent me from getting pregnant?”

“Have you had a chromosomal study done?”

“I was told that I am an XY female with Swyers Syndrome.”

“Usually XY females do not have functioning ovaries. It is now known that in place of ovaries and testes there are what are known as streak gonads. They do not produce hormones, as you know. Are you taking your hormone replacements?”

“Yes, I am.”

“The lack of ovaries means that you cannot produce eggs, so, pregnancy with your own egg is not possible.”

Tasha knotted her fingers.

“Your cervix is very rigid. That may be due to scar tissue from the previous surgery. The uterus is present and of the right size. OK, let’s get you dressed and come on back to my office.”

She just wanted to run from there, but she put the gown in the garbage and put on her dress and shoes. She asked the Nurse to show her to Dr. Davies office. When she got there, she knocked on the door.

She heard, “Come in.”

When she opened the door Dr. Davies said, “Please have a seat.”

She asked, “Do you have a regular gynecologist? Have you been having your annual examinations with a Pap smear and Mammogram? Have you had any infections?”

“Yes, I have been having regular check ups. I’ve never had an infection.”

Dr. Davies said, “I am going to give you an answer to all of your questions, but let me begin by giving you a little background information.”

Dr. Davies went on to explain, “The first known step of the formation of sexual organs in a normal male fetus is the development of testes. In the second month of gestation the action of several genes on the sex-determining region of the Y chromosome determine how the gonads (testes) will be formed. Mutations in these genes account for many cases of Swyer syndrome, like that which you have.”

“When such a gene is defective, the gonads fail to differentiate into testes in an XY (genetically male) fetus. Without testes, there is no testosterone and other hormones produced. Without testosterone no internal male organs can be formed and internal female organs develop instead. The external genitalia may also fail to virilize (become masculine) resulting in ambiguous genitalia.”

Tasha knew this already, but, she listened, still terrified. While continuing, Dr. Davies showed her a diagram and Tasha leaned closer to the desk to look.

“The child may or may not look normal, in anatomic respects, but would have, what we now know are, nonfunctional streak gonads instead of ovaries or testes. Because a girl’s ovaries normally produce no important body changes before puberty, a defect of the reproductive system typically remains unsuspected until puberty fails to occur in people with Swyer syndrome. They appear to be normal girls and are generally considered to be so. In your case, a non-functioning penis developed.”

“Because the streak gonads cannot produce sex hormones (both estrogen and androgen) most of the secondary sex characteristics such as breast development, widening of the hips and menstruation do not occur.”

“When a diagnosis is confirmed, hormone replacement therapy (estrogen and progesterone) are started to prompt the development of female characteristics. Without the hormones breast will not develop, the uterus will not grow and menstruation will not commence. Progesterone is needed to make the menstrual periods regular.”

“Have you been having regular periods?” asked Dr. Davies.

“Yes.” nodded Tasha.

“OK, good.”

She paused to take a sip of water and continued.

“The gonads cannot produce eggs, so conceiving children naturally is not possible, but IVF using a donor egg is very much possible. It is likely that you would have no problems taking a pregnancy to term with a donor egg.”

Dr. Davies pulled her chair closer and put the diagram down on the desk in front of her. She tapped twice on it. She took off her glasses, cleaned them and rested them on the desk in front of her. This was done slowly while she gathered her thoughts.

She told Tasha, “A very important concern for you is that streak gonads with Y chromosome-containing cells have a very high likelihood of developing cancer. Streak gonads should be removed within a year or so of diagnosis since the cancer can begin during infancy. We have to determine if those streak gonads were fully removed. That is first and foremost of any consideration for IVF treatment.”

“In any case,” she said “we would need to have you scanned and a hysterosalpingogram carried out. It would help us define the structures of your sex organs. Also, we need to know if any gonads are still present, because, if it had been missed and is precancerous, IVF Hormonal treatment will multiply your chances of developing cancer. We are going to assume for the sake of safety that they were not removed and plan to have surgery to determine that and remove them.”

Tasha looked away. The information had her head swirling. For years she chose to ignore any memories of time before she had the surgery to correct her genitals. Now, she was flooded with bad news. She still couldn’t swallow.

In a tiny voice, she asked, “Would my husband find out?”

Dr. Davies sat with her hands held together, fingers entwined. Tasha looked at her every movement as if they would be telling of how she really felt about her. She knew physicians were supposed to be unbiased, but she knew the real world. She knew that people had their own ingrained beliefs. Maybe, she thought, this physician sitting in front of her would think that she was deceitful and morally repugnant.

“Yes, if you are treated as a couple, but not if you receive treatment as a single woman and use donor sperm.”

Dr. Davies paused. Tasha felt the hairs on her forearm bristle. She prepared herself for what this doctor would ask next. She knew what it would be.

“Tell me Tasha, how did your husband not know? Does he not know that you are taking hormones?”

There it was. Tasha took a deep breath.

“He doesn’t know that I am taking hormones. I keep them with my instruments.” she confessed.

“OK, but relationships don’t do well when there is a secret of this kind.” she added. “If you need assistance with sorting out how you could broach this topic with him, we have excellent relationship and marital counselors who can help you navigate the topic. Let’s make an appointment for you to see her, but it is most important that we find out if those streak gonads are still present. We need to schedule you for surgery, right away.”

“I’ll talk to the counselor then after I speak with my husband, we can schedule the surgery. Thank you.”

She made an appointment for the following week. Tasha knew what she had to do. She didn’t need anyone to tell her, but she wanted to do it right, so she decided to wait until she could work out the best way to do it. The evening after she met with the counselor, Tasha asked Carter to come sit on the sofa with her. She told him everything.

“I was always scared of being thought of as a freak so I never spoke about it. After my surgery, I never thought about it, again. Then I met you and the more I fell in love with you the more I was afraid to tell you and risk losing you.”

Carter freaked out. He was repulsed. She tried to hold his hand, but her touches stung like nettles and his instinct was to move away. He stood up, knocking over a Glencairn glass, shattering it.

“Please, try to understand.”

He shouted at her, pushed her away.

“Get away from me. You are a what? A man! A transsexual?”

“I am not a man. I am not transsexual. I am not transgender. I haven’t changed anything. I just had something extra. It was taken off.”

“A dick? Balls? Woman, get away from me.”

“Yes, I am a woman, Carter. I am a woman.” she sobbed. “I am Nataliya!”

He went into the bedroom, locked the door behind him and staggered to the edge of the bed. He slipped down to the floor as the room spun like a top. Internally, he wanted to scream, but no sound came out. His diaphragm contracted and he panted every shallow breath. Holding his head in his hands, he couldn’t believe what he heard. He wondered how he could have been so duped and seduced. How could he not have realized that Tasha was a man? It didn’t make sense to him. What was she, or he?

All he knew was that he didn’t want anything to do with ‘it’ any more. He could hear everyone laughing at him. He felt dirty, nasty, and sinful. If he had known from the beginning, he never would have gotten involved with her. He got up and frantically packed two small bags with toiletries, underwear and shirts. He grabbed two suits and two pairs of shoes. Then he picked up his briefcase and came out the door.

When she saw the bags she begged him to stay, to talk to her, to let her explain. She pleaded with him to not leave. He pushed her away, violently, as he went out the front door. She was slammed to the wall and fell to the floor. He saw what happened to her and he didn’t care. He kept walking. She remained planted to the floor trying to breathe. She felt like her soul had been knocked out of her. His rejection was devastating. Her world had come to an end.

Her left shoulder and ribs ached, but she didn’t move from that spot. Lying on the floor, she saw a sliver of the broken Glencairn glass. She crawled over to it, picked it up and examined it closely for what seemed like hours. She rolled the shard between her fingers. She put the glass to her wrist and scraped the surface of her skin.

“I might as well do it. If I cut, he’ll feel bad and come back to me.” she thought. “He’ll realize that he loves me when he sees how far I will go because I love him.”

Tasha prayed, fervently, for Carter to come back. She would give up her career and raise as many babies as he wanted with donor eggs. She would stay home and look the other way to his wandering eye. She would do whatever he wanted. “Ah!” she gasped, as she pushed the tip of the glass into her wrist, drawing a small bead of blood. She looked at it then wiped it away. She stayed on the floor, until the next day, crying, with the sliver of glass clasped in her palm, waiting. She hoped that it was just a matter of time before he walked back through the door, lifted her up, embraced her and apologized for his behaviour.

But, Carter never came back. He blocked her calls and never spoke with her, again. His PA and movers came to remove his things. She received one text from his law firm stating that she was to communicate through them and that it was his intentions to file for divorce. Carter did not want anyone to know that his wife was a man, so he enacted a non-disclosure clause in their prenuptial agreement.

Carter settled thirty-seven million dollars on her if she would agree to petition for an annulment of their marriage, as well, on the grounds of fraud and the concealment of vital information. He raised the payout by borrowing some from his family’s firm, borrowing some from the bank and selling an office building that he bought just before they got married. Whatever he needed to do to keep her quiet and out of his life was worth it for him. He also demanded the return of the engagement ring and everything else that he gave her. This was still Carter and he saw the opportunity to recoup some of that money back. She sent everything back. She didn’t care, anymore. A lawyer from his firm came over to bring the divorce and annulment request papers for her to sign.

She knew she had to go back to the Island, so she bought her old house back. It was offered to her and her mother, before, but at that time Tasha had no interest in it. She was so busy that it was two years before she could come down to renovate it. By then, she had become a multi millionaire because of her own lucrative career. She bought land in South Africa, Canada and India, on which very high output diamond mines were found. Her companies made her very rich.

She never heard from Carter again and she erased him from her memory. She was sure that he did the same about her.

The Congo

In September of 1999, just after Hurricane Floyd raged through The Bahamas, Tasha had an assignment in Zaïre, now known as war torn, ‘The Democratic Republic of The Congo’. In preparation for the case, she was researching mineral deposit sites when she was reminded about King Leopold II of Belgium and the Congolese President for life, Mobutu Sésé Seko.

In 1885, King Leopold II of the Belgians, a cousin of Queen Victoria of Great Britain, with the approval of other equally as greedy European colonialist countries who were parceling up their ‘slice of the African Pie’, claimed to have ‘founded’ the mineral and resources rich rain forests and mountains of the Congo region, which he named the Congo Free State, a fitting name for the attitude of European Colonialists to the African Continent. Every thing was ‘Free’ for them to portion out and take. The slice of pie that he claimed for himself was bigger than England, France, Germany, Spain and Italy combined.

As the sole owner of this colony, King Leopold, known as The Butcher of the Congo, exploited the country as a personal venture and his agents forced and brutalized the Congolese population to produce rubber for the demands of the growing international market for tyres brought on by the automobile industry. For this reason, the wild rubber vines, then, became more valuable than the diamonds, minerals and ivory that were also naturally abundant. The King raked in billions of dollars by the blood, sweat and tears of each Congolese because none was spared.

Each Congolese was commanded to collect and process a set quota of rubber sap and to enforce this quota, King Leopold conscripted a ‘Force Publique’, an army of entirely white European mercenaries who commanded bands of ethnically-mixed African men (similar to the Jewish Kapo in the Nazi concentration camps), who terrorized the population (children and the old, alike) by torture; cutting off the limbs, penises and breasts; gorging out eyeballs; slicing out tongues and other body mutilations of any Congolese who failed to produce. Those that were killed outright had their heads displayed on spikes for the others to see. Even Hitler did not match his depravity.

Having their arms or legs or hands or feet chopped off did not make the Congolese more productive. It was purely to punish and show others what would happen if they did not make the quota. Leopold and his henchmen were willing to, and did, sacrifice the limbs of millions of Congolese and still had millions more to work. It was just sadistic. In addition, fifteen million Congolese slaves were murdered. Surely, that was a holocaust, too, so can we ever believe, again, that the worst holocaust in history took place during World War II? That was bad enough, but not even close.

Today, even still, a regional specialty in Antwerp is ‘Antwerpse handjes’; tiny chocolate or almond cookie hands. There is the legend of the giant Druoon Antigoon; a giant who lived in the river Scheldt, who demanded a high toll from the ships that passed by. Those who refused to pay had one hand chopped off. Silvius Brabo, a Roman, challenged the giant to a fight, killed him and threw one of the giant's hands into the river. This was a great symbol of the might of the Belgian people and was so ingrained in their psyche that it was used as a method in King Leopold’s playbook to control and punish the Congolese.

The people of Belgium, perhaps because of collective historical amnesia, do not associate the atrocities committed in the Congo with the moral and cultural insensitivity of continuing to market and produce the hands in the millions, tied up with pretty ribbons in beautiful presentation boxes. They are even a regionally protected product, like Champagne and Stilton Cheese.

Also, seldom remembered by history was the widespread capture of one of the lesser known ethnic groups, the Congo Pygmies, the small-framed hunter-gatherer forest peoples of the Congo rain forest. The children of the Congo Pygmies were, under the auspices of King Leopold, captured and exported to zoos throughout Europe and the United States from 1904 to 1907. One very notable case is of a Congo Pygmy, named Ota Benga, from the Kasai River, who was captured after his wife and two children were murdered. He was exhibited at the Bronx Zoo, in the monkey cages. Then, it was not believed that pygmies were human beings.

Pygmies are not considered human in Africa, even now, even though they are considered to be one of the oldest ethnic people in the world. Historically, the Pygmy have always been viewed as inferior by both colonial authorities and the village dwelling Bantu tribes and the nation is deeply divided between these two major black ethnic groups.

Heartbreakingly, even today, in The Democratic Republic of The Congo, where Pygmies now only make up 2% of the population, they are enslaved by their compatriots, the Bantu people. From being a more considerable percentage of the people of Africa, their numbers have plunged so rapidly, because of the effects of the cruelty perpetrated on them, that it is believed that the ethnic group will be extinct, possibly before the middle of this century. Why? Because, the Pygmy slaves are considered to belong, from birth, to their Bantu masters in a relationship that the Bantus call a time-honored tradition. No African country will give them citizenship. They cannot own land and they cannot be educated. They receive no healthcare. Horrifyingly, belief in Vodou and witchcraft is common in the Democratic Republic of Congo and the Pygmy are ritually cannibalized because doing so is believed to impart some magical power to the eater. Especially, the sexual organs are eaten in the belief that this gives strength. This is absolutely disgusting and the Bantu people of the Congo must end this for this is no better than what was done to them by the Belgians.

Getting back to King Leopold. Eventually, due to pressure from western countries, he gave up private ownership of the colony and sold it to the Belgian people, who made the Congolese people pay for the transaction. The Congo Free State was then renamed The Belgian Congo. After military coups and political jockying, The Belgian Congo gained independence in 1960. The young King Baudouin, representing Belgium, at the Independence Ceremony, gave a patronizing speech in which he praised the "genius" of his ancestor, King Leopold. He did not apologize to the people of The Congo, but instead vindicated Belgian rule by saying that the end of colonial rule in the Congo was the culmination of the Belgians efforts to bring Western civilization to those backward people, therefore, he insisted, the Congolese owed Belgium a debt of gratitude. Really? Did he suffer, like his forebears, from the disease of national arrogance or was he a pompous ostrich with his head in white sand?

But, one dictator was replaced by another. Mobutu Sésé Seko, of the Ngbandi (a non-Bantu tribe of Sudanese origin) and a very educated man, was the Congolese dictator who ruled over Zaïre (previously known as the Belgian Congo) between 1965 and 1997 after the end of the brutal colonialism, imperialism, genocide, rape and slavery by King Leopold II of the Belgians.

Sésé Seko was known for his own brutal oppression, murder, human rights violations, corruption, and embezzlement of over fifteen billion dollars from the mining of diamonds, rubies, sapphires, gold, copper and other minerals, all found in an abundant supply in the country, while the vast majority of the population lived in abject poverty and starvation, second only in scope to the Republic of Haiti. With absolutely no care about the millions of his own Congolese people living in poverty, his profligate behaviour was jaw dropping. Fittingly, Mobuto’s wife was Madam Marie-Antoinette Mobuto (her real name).

Sésé Seko could not care less than he already did about the Congo Pygmy or of their enslavement by the Bantu people because the Ngbandi, of which he identified, were less of a traditional ethnic group than they were people from the north-west of the country who were predominantly Lingala-speaking people. Their predominance in Mobutu's army was symbolized by the widespread use of Lingala as the military language. These were the people that he used to enforce his rule and control the country.

After the toppling of Sésé Seko’s regime and his exile, a rough 475.70 carats yellow diamond was offered to a wealthy Belgian industrialist by the representative of a Congolese ex- military commander, a former henchman of the ex-dictator Mobutu Sésé Seko. The representative claimed that the ex-military commander owned the diamond because as a Bantu, he, by long held tradition, owned the Pygmy slave who ‘discovered’ the stone in an ‘abandoned’ mine in the Kasi Mountains.

Businesses of every type owned by Europeans and Asians had been nationalized, privatized or personalized by President for Life, Mobutu Sésé Seko and handed over to inept relatives and supporters. They shamelessly stole, embezzled and looted the assets of these companies. The Belgian owners, too, had been forced out of the country after it attained Independence.

In a ‘how dumb can you be?’ move, the representative of the ex-military commander approached the Belgian metal industrialist. The industrialist was the son of one of a handful of owners of mines in The Congo when it was called The Belgian Congo. He knew that Sésé Seko’s expropriated the properties and businesses of foreign owners, so he, along with the other mine owners, petitioned the courts in The Congo to take possession of the stone until it was determined who the rightful owner was.

The financial stakes for ownership of this diamond were very high. Another diamond, the 777 carats rough diamond from which The Millennium Star was cut, (weighing 203.04 carats and valued at over one hundred and fifty million dollars) is considered to be the world's second largest known colourless, internally and externally flawless, pear-shaped diamond. It was found in a riverbed, by a dirt poor digger, using a sieve and pan, in the Mbuji-Mayi district of Zaïre (now known as The Democratic Republic of The Congo) in the early nineties. A rough yellow diamond of the size of the stone that was being flogged could have expected to fetch at least seventy-five million US Dollars at auction.

As she waited to be called, in the antechamber of the court room, Tasha expected a long day, but she hoped it would be otherwise. The smell of fresh paint and kerosene was overpowering and made her feel nauseous. She figured that the room must have just been readied for the trial and its only window remained closed. She asked the room attendant if it could be opened. A short time later a steward came, opened the window and set up a fan to Tasha’s liking and she started to feel better.

She thought about the atrocities that were carried out by the Belgian King against the Congolese people. She felt that it was a safe bet to say that the Diamond mines owned by the Belgians were not legally purchased from the Congolese. She also thought about the atrocities that were carried out by The President for Life. If the mine where this stone was found was legally owned by a Belgian, did anyone have the right to take it away? What ever she felt about either of them, though, could not play in any part of her report to the court.

She was called in at exactly ten o’clock. The Judge was a thin, reedy man with lively eyes. He started by asking her if she knew either of the parties to which she replied no. The judge asked the Court Officers to proceed. Tasha gave details of her credentials, how natural and man made diamonds were made, how to grade rough diamonds and the testing methods used in the diamond industry.

“From the information that I have provided to all parties, we have all agreed that this is a rough uncut stone. The first thing that had to be established is whether the stone is a real diamond, a colour enhanced diamond or a fake. In the presence of court officials I have tested the stone and I can confirm that it is a real rough yellow diamond.”

“Please tell us the methods that you have used.”

She said, “The first test that I conducted was a heat probe test. Diamonds have a tight, evenly packed crystalline structure that makes them disperse heat quickly so they don’t heat up easily. I applied a heat probe for thirty seconds on this stone and compared it to the known rates at which heat is dispersed from comparable diamonds. The result of this test led me to believe that this is a real diamond.”

“Next, I tested the stone with an electrical conductivity tester to determine if it is a real diamond or a Moissanite stone. Moissanite is a form of silicon carbide which to an untrained eye may be mistaken for a diamond. It is considerably less expensive than diamonds. Moissanite has similar thermal conductivity as diamonds, but a good jeweler will know that Moissanite has a higher electrical conductivity and birefringence (optical quality) than diamonds and would be able to detect this if they had the proper testing ability. From this test, as well, I am led to believe that it is a real diamond.”

“I weighed it. Cubic Zirconium, glass and crystals all weigh much more than a real diamond of the same size and shape. From comparable studies, I am led to believe that this is a real diamond.”

“Next, I looked at the stone under ultraviolet (UV) light. A medium to strong blue fluorescence under UV light can confirm if the stone is a real diamond although the absence of the blue does not necessarily indicate that the stone is a fake. Also, a very slight green, yellow or gray fluorescence may indicate that the stone is Moissanite. This is not an absolute indicator in itself that a diamond is real or fake because it is possible for a fake stone to be treated so that it appears to glow under UV light. But, I am led to believe that this is a real diamond.”

“The stone was x-rayed. Real diamonds have a radiolucent molecule structure so they don’t appear on x-ray images. Glass, paste, cubic zirconium and crystals all have a radiopaque structure that makes them show up on x-ray clearly. As you can see, this stone does not show up in an x-ray so I am led to believe that this is a real diamond.”

She had already been on the stand, being questioned by the Judge and the lawyers for each party, for a little close to three hours and she was tiring, but she soldiered on.

She told the court, “The diamond is real, but it could be manmade or natural. Since I have established that this is a natural diamond I can advise you further on enhancements.”

“Thank you. Please proceed.”

“We are at the point where a diamond can be manufactured in a lab and it would be virtually indistinguishable from mined diamonds. They have the same physical and chemical properties as mined diamonds.”

The Judge interrupted, “Do you mean Cubic Zirconia?”

“No, Sir. Cubic Zirconia looks like a diamond, but does not have the same molecular bonds as a diamond. Cubic Zirconia is classified as a diamond simulant. Rhinestone, rock crystal, diamante, paste, glass, acrylic, moissanite and quartz are all diamond simulants, as well.”

“I see. So a diamond can be real, but still be man made or naturally occurring. And contrary to belief, a Cubic Zirconia stone is not a diamond. It is just Cubic Zirconia.”

“Precisely.”

“Please continue.”

“Because they have the same molecular makeup, the consumer would not be able to tell the difference between a man made diamond and a mined diamond, only a Gemologist can do that. However, a reputable jeweler should tell you, when you buy it, if a stone is natural or man made, just as they are required to tell you whether a stone is Cubic Zirconia or not.”

“Being man made is not necessarily a bad thing because some people will prefer man made diamonds over natural diamonds. They are considerably less expensive so there is a market for them. Unfortunately, there will be the odd unscrupulous jeweler who will sell a man made diamond at the same price as a natural diamond, although the price varies on different diamonds depending on the shape, cut, carat, clarity, and color. Right now there are limitations to the size of man made diamonds that can be made and the amount that can be manufactured.”

“There are people for whom a man made diamond will never be acceptable because they want something that is billions of years old, dug out of the ground as opposed to something created in a lab in a few days. Millenniums from now, there will be a point where there are no more diamonds to mine and the warehouses full of stockpiled diamonds would be even more tightly controlled with prices dictated by the owners. Then, man made jewels would be more acceptable, but right now, no. This stone is not a man made diamond and we have all agreed that this is a rough diamond that has not been treated or cut.”

She took a sip of water.

“Can you assign a value to the stone?” he asked.

“Value is a relative term. As with everything that is sold, the value of an item is only as much as what the consumer will pay for it. You may set a high price on something, but if no one wants to buy it, it is of no value. If a loaf of bread is priced at one dollar and it is the last loaf of bread on the planet, if someone is willing to pay one million dollars for it, then the value is one million dollars.”

“When you are buying diamonds, you're buying into a myth. They are not rare. It is just the market is a tightly controlled monopoly. If you flood the market, it becomes a buyers market. Diamond value depreciates and prices will go down. It means less profit all around. So the excess that would bring down market prices is stockpiled. There are more diamonds hoarded in vaults now than have ever been sold in almost a hundred years. If you hold those diamonds, it creates demand then it very much is a seller’s market. Prices will go up and everyone makes a profit. That is why some mines, although still producing, are temporarily closed down.”

She cleared her throat and added, “Other than colourless diamonds, people want big, vibrantly coloured diamonds, like pink, yellow, blue or green. They are called fancy diamonds. With the rise in popularity and demand for those diamonds, the market for treated and colour enhanced natural diamonds has evolved tremendously.”

“This can happen with natural diamonds, too?”

“Yes it can. It is being done already. We can take a low or poor quality coloured diamond and enhance the colour that it already has or make it any other colour that we want it to be, like blue or pink. The stone could be treated with sealants, and acids and its cracks lasered to get a more visually pleasing product. We can take an insipid colour like dishwater yellow and make it very bright and vivid yellow. But, the jeweler is supposed to tell you that a stone has been colour enhanced. There is the fear that an unscrupulous jeweler would try to pass off a sub par diamond at a higher price, without declaring this to the consumer.”

“One part of the industry says that enhancing a sub par diamond makes their value higher than what it would be for the lower quality diamond. In this case, the industry says that enhancing a low quality diamond, even with the cost of colour enhancing, makes it a more valuable diamond. It is a case of a whole being greater than the sum of its parts.”

“I liken it to this, are you going to pull out a tooth because it has a cavity and is discoloured? If the tooth can be saved, you are not going to say, ‘I don’t want to have a crown put on because it is of less value than a natural tooth, so take the tooth out and throw it away’. Then you will have no tooth. No. You are going to have a root canal and a crown put on. But now, you can have a tooth that is nice and white. And, you will pay for the privilege, too.”

Tasha took another sip of water.

“Excuse me.” she said as she cleared her throat. “That is very simplistic and the industry that reveres a rock taken out of the ground cannot be likened to your health, but you get my drift. Do we throw away the diamond that is subpar? Do we put them in the garbage after we have gone through the trouble and great expense to get them out of the ground? No. Subpar diamonds are already being used in the industrial trade, but not if they can be ‘fixed’. It is a very complex issue.”

“But, another part of the industry says that if you take a sub par diamond and enhance it, it is still a sub par diamond.”

“All of that is a moot point because this rough diamond is natural and has not been colour treated. But, even though this diamond is valuable as it is, when it is cut, it can be colour enhanced to produce diamonds that are vivid yellow and, hopefully, produce more desirable diamonds of even greater value, although I would not suggest that, at all.”

“Can you tell which mine a stone has come from?” asked the Judge.

“Yes and no. More and more mines, like those in Canada, Australia, South Africa and India already have Place of Origin Documentation to go along with the grading documentation for their more valuable diamonds. Provenance reports track and document from when a stone is found. It follows the stone to The Central Selling Organization or CSO in London, then to the cutting facility in Antwerp who documents from whom and when they acquired the stone and what they paid for it. They track to whom they sold the stone to and when they sold it. A diamond passes through many hands before it gets to the consumer.”

“This data is collected and analyzed already because it is good business practice. You want to know your market and you want to know what they buy. And, we know that for very valuable stones, consumers want to know that information, as well, because it makes a stone more desirable and valuable.”

“For less valuable stones, it isn’t worth it for the jeweler. It just adds more cost and results in less profit for them. If the market proves that this report makes small and medium sized diamonds and maybe flawed diamonds more valuable and brings them more profit then the industry would insist that it be done on every stone.”

“For instance, when you go into a food store, are you going to find a provenance report on each bunch of grapes? Not a crate of grapes, but each and every bunch of grapes? No. The crate that the grapes come in states where the grapes were grown. The buyer for the food store knows where he buys the grapes from. Putting a label on each bunch of grapes is ridiculous. The consumer does not require it and it would drive the prices up. I did not say that it would drive the value up. But, diamonds are more expensive and if the consumer abandons untraceable stones for traceable stones, the whole diamond industry would have no choice but to insist on it.”

“Those with experience, such as cutters can look at a whole rough diamond and say, this diamond is from a mine because its surface is rough or from a river because its surface is smooth. But without that initial paper trail, it would be impossible to state with any certainty what mine or river a diamond came from. There are characteristics that are more common from some mines than from others, that is why I requested documentation from the owners of the closed mine. We can state the likelihood of a stone being from a general region, but that is it. Determining the provenance of stones that are already cut and polished is much more complex.”

“Now, we can laser etch, or brand, information on to a cut and graded stone that would have the provenance information on the stone. This is not visible to the naked eye. This is a code that only that particular diamond has, like a fingerprint, a serial number or a bar code. This is very much needed for when you want to sell the diamond or when it is stolen. We would have a databank of all the information and if a stone needs to be checked, in whatever country you are in, that information is readily available.”

“You have asked me to give my opinion as to where the stone came from. From the information provided to me from the owner of the mine and the geologic information on the area where the finder claims to have found the diamond and after the court’s visit; that is the exact spot where the mine is. The finder has already said that he found the diamond where the mine is located, but he thought it was ‘abandoned’. If that land legally or morally belongs to the Belgian, then the diamond belongs to him. If neither is the case, does one ethnic group have the right to enslave another, in this day and age, and claim that they own a human being and all that they have? Does the diamond belong to the Pygmy finder or the Bantu Commander? Those are questions that the courts and the good people of The Democratic Republic of The Congo have to answer. Those answers are out of the scope of my expertise.”

“Thank you Ma’am. You have been very informative. You may step down and leave. Should your services be further required, an officer of the court will contact you.” said the Judge. “Please do not discuss any aspects of this case with anyone as the case remains on going.”

“Thank you and as per our agreement, I would like to remain anonymous.” replied Tasha.

“It is the order of the court that the identity of Ms. Romanova remains confidential. Thank you.”

She stepped down from the witness box. After she left the stand, her assistant who was waiting in the antechamber immediately saw that she looked unwell. She was ashen and shaking. Back at the hotel, in the suite, Tasha had another bout of severe abdominal pain and vomiting. Her assistant immediately had her seen in the emergency room. She was kept overnight then flew back to New York straight away.

The Execution

Trinity flew to New York and was at the townhouse when Tasha arrived. Immediately, she had surgery to take out the right streaky gonad. It was found to be cancerous and she started chemotherapy right away. Trinity stayed steadfast, helping Tasha. The treatment was brutal, but it was the only hope of curing her. When it was completed, Trinity had to go back to work. Tasha came back with her.

Before they left New York, Tasha saw a beautiful small Chihuly Fire Orange Basket Set, in the window of Cielo, a boutique china and ceramics shop. She asked Trinity to give it to Inez to show how much she appreciated her ‘letting’ her off work. Trinity didn’t know why Tasha felt she had to thank Inez. The other ladies (loosely referenced) called in sick or for some other reason almost every week. Inez had no problem with that, so as far as Trinity was concerned, tit for tat. She was already over Inez, by that point.

When Trinity returned to the office, she gave Inez the wrapped box saying, “From Tasha, to show her gratitude.”

A phone call came in for Inez so Trinity left her office. About an hour later, Inez opened the box and took the bowls out. Unknown to Inez, Trinity was passing her office door, at the same time, to go to a file cabinet.

She heard Inez say, “God. This shit is ugly!”

Inez put the bowls down as offhandedly as if she were discarding a used envelope. Didn’t Trinity know it? Inez was a dog. Trinity gasped. The inhalation was so sudden, so sharp and so cold that she felt her heart freeze. Her body shivered then relaxed. Just as quickly, she exhaled the slightest breath then her head dropped and she blinked. It was then that she felt the hot tears on her cheek and in that moment, she started to grieve for Inez because she knew she had sealed her own fate.

At that moment she said internally, silently, resolutely to Inez, “I am so going to fuck you up”.

While she was at the cabinet. Trinity heard Inez walk up behind her. She turned away and wiped her cheeks to dry her tears.

As if heard from under a cold black sea of molasses, Inez looked at Trinity and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

Trinity answered, softly, "Nothing”.

After that, Trinity began to have deep dark thoughts of torturing and killing Inez. Some days she thought of nothing else. She visualized every day how Inez should die slowly and painfully. She thought about ways of torturing her, of making her violently sick.

The weekend after Trinity returned to the office, she went to the community where she visited, very often, as a volunteer with the Help-A-Life charity group. They worked very closely with people living in what is called ‘the Worm Belt’. It was an area of severe poverty, inhabited mostly by Haitians, where worm infestation was common. You could always tell which child was infected. Their belly was distended, their conjunctiva pale and rheumy and because the worms caused intense anal itching, the child dug deep into their backside for relief.

She took an insulin syringe and pulled up 1.00cc of infected feces from the diaper of the infected infant. She got two of the straws that Inay kept in her office. Through the straws’ paper coverings, she injected the contaminated feces and the worm eggs into the inside of the straws. When all of the fecal matter was injected, she carefully pulled the syringe back out. The straws looked perfectly new. She replaced them in Inez’s desk drawer. She always drank with a straw so as her lipstick would not come off.

As predicted, Inez grabbed one of the straws and pulled off the paper. Trinity could not keep from staring at her. She expected any minute for Inez to realize an odd smell or taste, but she didn't and she happily slurped away on her soft drink without ever knowing.

To be on the safe side Trinity took Zentel, an over the counter anti-parasitic, anthelmintic drug once a month for six months. She followed Inez's movements. Each time Inez went to the bathroom and exited, Trinity followed. Then one day she was rewarded. There they were; two one inch translucent white helminthiases worms crawling up the inside of the toilet bowl. If two were in the bowl, there could be hundreds in her gut, growing there until they burst out into other organs or her asshole. Trinity could only hope.

"Bitch!" Trinity said.

Inez always pretended that her hair was naturally hers. She boasted that her hair was too good so she did not need to resort to wearing weaves. Trinity knew that she wore a weave not her natural hair. A week later, she saw Inez sticking her finger into a matt of hair and glue. She kept patting her head in the universal sign of ‘my weave is dirty and itching’.

Millipedes by the thousands cover roads, walls, floors, carpets, everything from late spring to late November. They crawl over everything. Their eggs (each female lays up to three hundred eggs at a time) get carried on shoes, animal paws and wheels. They crawl into houses and offices. Some are thick and fat, some are thin and short, black and brown. Hey stink. Everyone hates them.

Trinity got a Ziploc bag and collected about twenty of them varying in length from a tenth of an inch to fourteen inches along with the dirt and leaves that they laid their eggs into. She waited for them to die from lack of oxygen. Then she took a mallet to the bag and crushed them all, along with the dirt and leaves to a fine powder. She put the powder into a small yellow photographer’s envelope. When next she saw Inez, she settled the powder to the bottom of the envelope just like you do with a sugar packet. She walked behind Inez and poured the contents of the bag into her hair.

About a week after that, a hundred legs of a very slow multi jointed insect inched it forward, like flagella or cilia, from Inez’s temple towards her left ear. Another dropped onto the desk in a tight coil, straightened itself out then crawled over a sheet of paper. Another dropped to the ground. Imani, who was standing beside Inez, looked at her head and saw the infestation.

She screamed, "Ms. Inez, centipedes crawling in your hair!"

Inez jumped up screaming, pulling on the weave.

"Get ‘em out! Get ‘em out!”

Minion, neither Imani, came to her aide. They ran away from her, checking their own hair as they did so, all the while screaming and jumping up and down. Then the next day, no weave. Inez had her head covered by a scarf.

She said, “I picked up something from the girl who does my hair.”

Trinity thought to herself, “Sweeet!”

But, they were millipedes, not centipedes. Centipedes sting badly and their venom can destroy flesh. Millipedes just stink.

For want of Killing Inez

Trinity came to hate Inez with a passion. Her heart had turned stone cold towards her. She wanted to see her suffer and she planned how she was going to do it.

When she could take it no longer, at night, after work, she took a shower then ate dinner in front of the television in her bedroom. She lit a candle and went outside on the balcony with a glass of wine. Being unable to sleep, she took a sleeping pill. Then, she settled back on the sofa in the suite. Gradually, she fell asleep as she thought through the plan. She could not delay it any longer. She decided that she would do it in the morning.

When she got up it was just as the sun was rising. Still dark, but, splinters of light began to pierce through the trees. With garden gloves on she cut branches of the Pink Oleander and the Desert Rose and she picked Angel’s Trumpet flowers and put them in a saucepan of water. The sap that ran out was boiled down to a thick paste. Trinity injected the reduction into the lip balm that Inez used. The balm was in a small plastic tube that had to be squeezed to release it out of a little opening. Inez had some on her desk, in her bag and at her home.

When Inez came to the office she picked up the lip balm container and applied the poison directly to her lips. As she used it, it was gradually absorbed in her mouth. The poison had a sweet taste, but, Trinity did not know if Inez could immediately detect it because she wore a lot of flavoured lip gloss. Evidently she did not, as she did not complain, but continued to use the balm throughout the day. Just before the end of the work day, Inez started to have symptoms. Drool was at the corner of her mouth. She clutched her belly in pain and had projectile vomiting of a bile filled green and brown fluid. Then she collapsed and started jerking. Her breathing became very faint. Her pulse was very rapid and the pulsations could be seen, clearly, in her neck. Her temple veins were thick and green.

Her lips were covered in the white residue and spittle froth. Trinity wiped them, once, twice, then three times, each time folding the hand towel on itself. Then, she thought she had better wipe her whole face so that if did not appear that she was just focusing on the lips. She put the hand towel in her pocket. Inez stared ahead, with her eyes wide open and pupils dilated. At that time, the ambulance came. She was admitted into ICU right away and put on cardiac and respiratory support.

As the hallucinations of menacing red demonic energy striking her became worse, her face contorted wildly. Her body continued to convulse. She tried to brush away spiders that were crawling out of her ears. The drugs that they gave her, to sedate her, so that she could tolerate the ventilation tubes down her throat were useless. Her hands were restrained to stop her from pulling them out. The attending physicians did not know why she was so cranked up.

Then, Trinity woke up and sat on the bed in confusion. She was shaking. Her mind was making connections. “What have I done?” she asked herself.

It took her a while to orient herself. She realized that she had a nightmare. She hesitantly called the office. Except for the time when she had pneumonia, it was the first time, since she was with the company, that she called in to say she was not feeling well.

In the end, Inez was not killed, but she realized that her thoughts were wrong. Sin can be ‘in thought, in word and in deed and in what we have left undone.’ Trinity could not run away from that. She was not brought up to have thoughts of killing people, even people who deserved it. She exacted revenge on Inez, but ‘Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord’. She was so sorry. Inez might have deserved every punishment that would come to her, but Trinity knew that Inez was not worth losing her soul over. She called Tasha and told her everything.

Tasha listened to her without saying a word, nothing, just silence. She was horrified and repulsed by what Trinity did and Trinity was surprised at the severity of her rebuke.

“I don’t know how I could do that. How could I be so evil? How could I do things like that?”

Tasha recoiled then let loose a torrent of chastisement.

“How could you do something like that? You are asking me? You didn’t have to put up with that. You could have left. I told you not to worry about money. I could have helped you with no worries. Why would you not accept my help, why let it get to this? You were too proud to take my help, but willing to serve up worm infestation. I spoke with you almost everyday. You never said you felt this way. You never told me that you were going over the edge.”

“I’m sorry, Tasha. I’m sorry.”

“Suppose you had really killed Inez, what then, jail? Hanging? You do remember hanging is still on the books, here? Not easy lethal injection, HANGING! SWINGING BY YOUR NECK! Would people be watching your trial on ZNS? Would they see you walk to the Magistrates Courts in Parliament Square with your hands shackled around your waist and your ankles manacled, doing the Perpetrator Shuffle? As the Police pushed you along people would shout insults at you. How do you think Nica could have endured that?”

“Would they uncover your connection to me? You know that if there is any heat close to me, I would never work again!”

Trinity could not say a word to justify her actions. Tasha did not speak to her for a long time, for weeks, but it ate away at her. Trinity had done nothing, but be the most loyal friend to her and she turned her back on her. Wasn’t that wrong, as well? When she was ashamed of her own body, didn’t Trinity treat her with dignity? Trinity would walk to the ends of the earth for her and she had let her down. She was ashamed of the way she treated her most dear friend in the world, who asked her for nothing except understanding. Didn’t she wrong someone else, herself? Didn’t she repulse someone else, herself? Sin is sin. She remembered who her friend truly was and called her. She apologized for her actions and begged Trinity to forgive her.

Trinity had already tendered her resignation, but promised she would stay just as long as it took to train her replacement. Then something horrible happened.

Simon

In January of 2000. Simon, a 22 year old, high school dropout and a fry cook at an up market restaurant was caught smoking the thin Indian Beedi cigarette in the kitchen, again, and talking on his cell while a packed house of diners sat complaining of the slow service of the restaurant. He was dismissed by the client. He did not return his uniforms, as he was supposed to do, but he still wanted his last cheque. He said he needed his money because his son's mother was stressing him out as it was time for school to reopen.

He also said that he had come very far and had no more money left to pay the bus fare back without getting his cheque cashed. He stayed in the office for a long time arguing and making a scene. Finally, Trinity took a ten dollar bill from her bag and gave it to him. She just needed to get him out of there. It was pay day and the place was filling with employees who came to get their cheques.

As he opened the door, to step outside, he said, “Fuck Ya’ll”.

Inez heard that and rushed outside behind him. She said something to him that Trinity did not hear. She knew that this was not going to end well, though. The young man turned towards Inez. She challenged him and they cursed each other. He turned and left the parking lot. She followed him then came back inside spewing bravado. Trinity shook her head and was about to turn to go to the back of the office to send a fax, but she stopped in her tracks.

She heard Simon shout, “Bitch, come here”.

The Pigs at the Trough, The Legion of Demons, ran screaming and cowering. Simon had returned with ‘The Wrecking Ball’, a modern day flail mace. It was a heavy dark grey metal ball, the size of a tennis ball, with hooks embedded in it that was attached to a six inch chain that attached to a wooden handle. With his right hand he sliced the air with it. Then he lunged at Inez. It came down solidly on the left side of her face, the hooks sinking in deeply just under her left ear. As he withdrew his arm across his body, the skin, meat and sinews were ripped away from her face like the skin on a ham joint. The weight of the ‘Wrecking Ball’ fractured her jaw and she bit her tongue in half. Blood spurt across to the other side of the room in a thick line and Inez was propelled back

Everyone stood looking. Simon ran out of the door. Trinity walked over to Inez, knelt down and decided what had to be done. She pressed down on Inez’s obliterated face. Where were her teeth? Where was her tongue? She had to roll Inez’s face back over the cheek and jaw bones like you would roll a pie top over its filling. She heard Inez’s gurgling breaths. She started to see red froth coming through her nose.

She said, “This can’t be happening”.

The Legion of Demons stood transfixed, no backbone in their characters and no empathy to offer assistance. She looked at them, the Pigs at the Trough that they were. Greedy pigs who took everything they could, but gave nothing back. She shouted at one of them to call an ambulance. She had to tell them twice. They just stood there, looking like doofuses, getting in the way. Minion pulled out her phone to record the scene. Trinity grabbed it out of her hand and slammed it against the wall.

“Be useful. Bring me some rolls of hand towel. Push out the cardboard core. Press it here! Don’t let up. Don’t Move.”

“No! I am not doing that.”

“Then get the fuck out of my way!”

The rattling sound from Inez’s chest was becoming fainter. There was no ambu-bag here. She was drowning in her own blood. If the medics did not get there, soon, Inez was going to be dead. The large quantity of blood loss perfumed the air like sweet licorice. The clotting factors in her blood caused it to congeal like gelatin at a faster and faster rate, so much so that pieces of beef liver type chunks formed on the floor. Then one of the Legions slipped on the blood and ended up on her backside. She hollered and cried out at the top of her voice.

Trinity said, “Serves you right for not moving out of the way, you damn idiot.”

She heard the police say, “All unessential people please go to the back office, now.”

She continued applying pressure to Inez’s face until her fingers were hurting. Her hands felt numb. Her shoulders were painful. Her knees bruised. Blood was all over Trinity, causing her eyelids to stick. It dripped down her cleavage. The EMTs inserted an endo-tracheal tube down Inez’s throat and began bagging her. The more they bagged the more frothy red blood bubbled out. Inez’s blouse was cut open and censors applied to her chest. Her heart rate was dropping and they could barely get a blood pressure register. A collar was applied to stabilize her neck. Quickly they loaded her into the ambulance.

Everyone forgot about Simon, but the Police found him easily and he was in the back of the squad car, handcuffed, looking up from under short, curled lashes. His face was a torrent of red and defiance. The back seat was like the prison cell he would have to live in. She felt so sorry for him. His life ended at that moment. As he realized the gravity of what he had done, he went into a frenzy kicking the seats, the divider and the windows of the squad car.

Two officers dragged him out to shackle his feet. He lost two of his front teeth in the process when the officers threw him down on the ground. They lay there of no interest to anyone. They put a spit hood over his head. While lying prone, and hog tied, they picked him up by his wrists and ankles and threw him back into the patrol car.

People were being held back from trying to gawk at him. The Police car sped off even before the ambulance left with Inez. Trinity just sat for the longest time giving reports to the police. All she wanted to do was to get the smell of all of that blood off of her, but the Police would not let her wash until they finished taking pictures. It was close to 3:30 am when they gave her a hazard suit which she changed into. Her own dress was soaked. Her shoes were slippery and discoloured. They were collected by the Police.

The Legion of Demons started to bask in the attention. Trinity could hear them relaying the story in reality TV style, each time gesticulating and embellishing their story. They seemed to forget the parts where they cowered and gave no aide to Inez. Trinity asked the officer interviewing her if they couldn’t make them shut up. She could not stand to hear another word from them. The officer understood and signaled to his colleague. They were moved away from her.

The Police would not permit the cleaning of the office until the next day. They sent a liaison officer to advise her of what to do. She called Inez’s brother and got permission from him to write a cheque for the cleaning. If Inez was of her right mind, Trinity would dare not do it, otherwise, it would have been taken out of her pay. After she got permission, Trinity hired the company that the Police recommended.

By the next morning, flies were swarming around the doors and windows. As she coordinated the cleanup, it became obvious that the Legion of Demons would not show up for work. No surprise there. She chocked in the haze of cleaning fumes. The phone rang non stop. She just wanted to be anywhere else but there.

The office had to be opened the next day. The payroll for each franchise had to be completed. She called the Legion to report back to work. She would have a meeting with them individually and as a group. Inez’s brother said that he was coming to the Island that day to be there. Trinity told him everything that happened and he asked her to stay. He had a very strained relationship with Inez. He owned half of the business, having provided half of the start up money, but Inez elbowed him out, left him in the periphery, a silent partner, one not welcomed. He was paid a certain amount each week, but that was it. He told the staff that Trinity was taking the reigns and he expected total support for her and the company until Inez was back.

The rude and volatile Minion tried to inveigle herself into Trinity’s good graces. The sucking up was obvious. Did she think that Trinity wouldn’t notice her game? When she tried to compliment Trinity or offer to go for her lunch or offer complete a certain task, Trinity remained professional, but always gave her a blank gaze.

When Inez recovered and returned to work, she was not the same. A young man, who Trinity believed to be a member of Inez’s family drove her to work and picked her up at the end of the day. She sat at the computer scrolling up and down a blank page, hours at a time. She opened and closed file drawers, all day. She stirred spoons inside empty cups while adding more and more imaginary sugar to them. The left side of her face was crisscrossed with scar tissue. Her mouth was immobile so she drooled.

Return of Uncle Fred

Trinity’s Uncle Frederick Jasper Sands started his employment at the Government House in New Providence, when the Duke of Windsor was exiled to the Islands to take up the post of Governor in August 1940. The Duchess of Windsor had no other choice, but to come with the Duke, but she didn’t like it.

Fred stopped attending school and started working at the Government House with the help of his cousin, Jeremiah, a cook, who recommended him to the Duke’s staff. He was only a boy of eleven then, but he passed for sixteen. He looked it because he was tall and had a commanding presence and an elegant manner. He started cleaning bathrooms, dishwashing, shining shoes, waitering, holding parasols and umbrellas and very quickly, buttling, in that order.

The Duchess had a soft spot for Fred and the older he got the more she liked him because of his take charge, but discreet manner. They had already proved him and they knew that one; they could speak in his presence and be assured that he would never speak about what he heard or saw and two; he could take care of them and remain invisible. That was ten times more valuable to them than ten of any one else.

After the death of Sir Harry Oakes and the end of World War II, when the Duke had resigned his post in March 1945, the Duchess begged Fred to come with them to France. He was the first black Footman, then the first black Butler, then the first black Estate Manager, to ever work for such high ranking individuals, overseeing a completely white staff in a, then, white country. This was entirely due to the progressive attitude of The Duchess because it cannot be forgotten that, as the Governor in The Bahamas, The Duke ordered that no black people were to enter Government House through the front door.

Fred made sure that the bed sheets were changed everyday or if they went back to bed for a nap, the sheets had to be changed, again. Money had to be brand new notes and coins directly from the bank. If the occasion came where they actually used the money themselves, as opposed to the Chauffeur or Secretary doing so, the old money that was received back as change from a transaction, had to be placed in a pouch that was given to the salesperson to put the dirty money in then handed back to them. Fred counted this money each evening and had it taken back to the bank and exchanged for brand new crisp legal tenders. Newspapers were always ironed to prevent ink stains on the fingers and to crisp up the paper. Their shoes were always cleaned and polished after each wearing, even the soles.

The Duchess loved rose petal, sandalwood and ambergris scented candles. They had to be lit before she entered the house. Fred demanded that those, along with candles in candelabras and sconces had to be extinguished every four hours and the wicks clipped back to one quarter inch so that they did not burn too quickly. Unused wax was returned to the supplier to be reformed with a new wick.

And, yes, he had toilet tissue imported from the United States because it was softer than French and English toilet ‘paper’ and he had the staff unroll and fold it in neat squares for ‘Their Royal Heinies’.

‘Heinie’ was an inside joke among staff because not only was the word in reference to their backsides and a play on the word ‘Highness’, it was also a derogatory appellation used to ridicule German soldiers from World War I. A popular German name was Heinrich, so all German soldiers were referred to as ‘Heinie’. Downstairs, the staff called The Duke or The Duchess, ‘Heinie’; an asshole, a butt bitch for Hitler, a German sympathizer, a soldier for the Nazis.

Fred very often had to chastise a staff member for referring to them as such when they were among each other, but on a few occasions he heard them referred to as such when out in the public. You have to remember that this was France that battled Hitler in the ‘Battle of France’ which resulted in him successfully invading France.

Uncle Fred was smooth. He was that statue of David. Other than English, he could read, write and speak French fluently and was conversant in German and Italian. He had the dignity and manner of speech, that made you believe that he could have been a king, himself. And, he was so devoted to them. Knowing how the Duchess liked to be deferred to as, “Your Royal Highness” and, he, “Your Majesty”. The British Royal Family only conferred the title of HRH, His Royal Highness, on the Duke. They refused to grant Wallis the HRH title.

She may not have been deemed an HRH authentically, but their set knew that to be taken into the Duke and the Duchess’ circle, one had better refer to her as “Your Royal Highness” or their invitations into that stratospheric social world would dry up. Neither was he a reigning monarch, so he was not entitled to the honourific of “Your Majesty”, either, but initially, both of them liked to be addressed by it. Later, in their lives, it reminded them, him especially, that he gave it all up.

Uncle Fred had a relationship with one of the maids from the estate that was down the avenue. Her name was Camille Dumont. Her family was from Martinique and she grew up there until they came with the family that her parents worked for. Camille was the colour of café au lait. They met when Fred accompanied ‘Their Majesties’ to a party at the estate of Camille’s employer. All staff had to be down in the boot room near to the kitchen. Since the Duke and Duchess were the last to arrive, Uncle Fred missed the dinner offered to other staff. Camille brought him some coffee and fresh bread and strawberry jam, instead.

Socializing on premises for staff was a no-no so he didn’t even show that he found her beautiful. They met again when she accompanied her employers to the Duke’s estate for a party. Fred had authority there so he asked her name and where she came from. He asked if she would meet with him and maybe have lunch at another time. She got a half day off on Thursdays.

It was perfect timing. He had to go into town for the Duke and he met her at Cabretto’s, a café off the beaten track where it would be quiet at that time of day. More importantly, he was welcomed there and there would be no other servants that would know them. Since that day, they met on their days off. She was timid and shy and not yet hardened by the exposure to class inequalities. By that time, he had been with the Duke for seven years, so he was well aware of them. Then, suddenly she disappeared. The only thing that he knew was that she was sent away. He asked everyone that knew her. No one could tell him anything. He never heard from her again. He never knew what happened.

When The Duke died, The Duchess became sick right afterwards. She suffered with Dementia. He felt that he could not leave her in that state. Nica had the opportunity to visit him when she studied in Switzerland. When he learned she was coming, he met her at the airport with a car and a food basket to drive her to her hotel. He took a room at the hotel, as well. They toured around Paris and ate and walked and talked. He was just so happy to see someone from home. She was happy to see him and to see Paris.

At the Duchess’ request he brought Nica to the estate to meet her. Nica found her courteous and kind. She told Fred that the next time Nica came she must come to have lunch with her. Fred would have liked to have seen more of Nica, but, she was on an intensive study program to learn the Swiss Banking Laws, and her schedule was very tight. She did call him, though, to ask about any problems she had with language or food, etc.

Since the Duchess died, he wanted to come home. He had no children and no family in France. When he returned after Howard’s funeral, he settled everything in Paris then went back home. During one of Tasha’s visit, Trinity asked some of his older friends, who he had not seen for a while, to come to dinner. He was showing them pictures when Tasha thought that she recognized the necklace worn by The Duchess in one of them.

“This photo is a bit grainy, but is that the Ansbach Necklace? It can’t be!” Tasha asked in shock.

She heard very little after that, her mind was spinning, her throat had gone dry, and her ears filled with pressure.

She thought, “Is this the time that my Grandfather told me about? Is it really? Is it really that necklace?”

Tasha was shaking all over. She went to the bathroom and closed the door. The Grand Duchess had photographs and the jewel maker’s drawings that her grandfather showed her and she knew that the Duchess had it, but was that really the one? She sat on the side of the bathtub and held her head. Then, she got up and splashed cold water on her face. Just as she was coming out, Trinity was coming up the stairs.

“Hey, are you okay?” Trinity asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Let’s go back down.”

After everyone left, Uncle Fred poured a round of Camus Cognac that he brought with him from Paris.

“What happened?” he asked. “You bolted and now you still look shaken.”

“Sorry. The necklace that she is wearing in that picture, do you know where she got it?”

“Not exactly, but I do know that the first time I saw it was the night that Sir Harry was killed. It was a beauty. The Duchess liked to talk about where she got a particular piece of jewelry, and, if it had some royal connection, any royal, that was even better. She would make the Duke buy it, but she never spoke about this necklace.”

“Fred, where is that necklace?”

“Her estate was left with the MerCurie Institute. They will auction off her jewels and private belongings. That was one of the reasons that I had to go back to France.”

Tasha told him the story.

HIH the Grand Duchess Evgenia

HH the Grand Duke Sergei

Against the backdrop of World War I, revolution raged in Russia from 1915 to 1918. The Tsar, Nicholas II, Emperor and Autocrat of all the Russias (at that time Belarus, The Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and Poland) and godfather to King Edward VIII (later the Duke of Windsor) felt the change in his people. They no longer revered him as they did his father, Alexander III, who died young, leaving his throne to an even younger and inexperienced Nicholas.

Anticipating the need, he had already set up contingencies for his overthrow and possible exile. Outside of his wife and mother, the only other person he trusted was his only surviving sister, the Grand Duchess Evgenia Alexandrovna Romanova, a daughter of Tsar Emperor Alexander III of Russia. Together, they planned for the dark days that might have come. She carried out his instructions to the letter.

As he feared, on March 22nd, 1917 he was forced to abdicate the throne that his astoundingly wealthy, powerful and well connected family ruled for over 300 years. He and his family, the Tsarina Alexandra Feodorovna, his daughters Olga, Tatiana, Marie, Anastasia and their last child, a hemophilic son and heir, Alexei, were murdered, along with three of their personal staff, by the Bolsheviks on the order of the new communist revolutionary leader, Vladimir Lenin on July 17th, 1918 in Yekaterinburg, Russia.

The world expected that his cousin, King George V of Great Britain, father of the future King Edward VIII (Duke of Windsor), who was very close to him and who looked exactly like him, would offer asylum to the Tsar and his family. But, no offer came. To this day, no one knows for certain if that was the decision of the King or his government ministers. No doubt, King George considered his own reign and legacy. No doubt, the government did not want an exiled Tsar in their country, over fears that his presence could spark a socialist or communist movement there.

However, no one thought that they would be murdered. Little news came out about their captivity, but letters, diaries and pictures seem to show that outwardly, they managed to cope. Why did they have to kill them and in such a brutal manner? What was the purpose of that?

Most of his relations were kidnapped, put under house arrest or thrown in prison. Many were murdered. Few were fortunate enough to make it into exile.

The Tsar’s mother, the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna, came to Russia as a very young woman from Denmark. She loved her new country and the Russians were said to have loved her, too. But, they forced her son to abdicate his throne then they killed him. With little news reaching her, it was believed that she did not know that her son and his family were murdered.

The Dowager Empress’ sister was Queen Alexandra of Great Britain, consort of King Edward VII, mother of King George V. King Edward VII was the son of Queen Victoria who had nine children. They or their offspring were on the thrones of most European countries. Tsar Nicholas II’s wife, Tsarina Alexandra, was a grand daughter of Queen Victoria, too, so they had relations all around them.

It was not known if any other ruler or country offered him assistance. Maybe they did and he refused them. Certainly, with socialism and communism spreading throughout the world many monarchies were abolished. No ruler was going to take the chance of having him in their country to remind the people of the excesses of these princely beings.

When it was confirmed that the Tsar and his family were murdered, King George V finally sent a warship to bring the Tsar’s mother, the Dowager Empress to England, probably, under pressure from the Empress’ sister, Alexandra. With her went her daughter, the Grand Duchess Evgenia and her grandson and Evgenia’s nephew, the Grand Duke Sergei.

The Grand Duke Victor Ovsianico Romanov, husband of the Grand Duchess’ murdered sister, headed another branch of the staggeringly rich aristocratic family of Grand Dukes and Grand Duchesses, Dukes and Duchesses and Princes and Princesses of Russia. As the Governor General and Prince of Moscow, he was tasked with the job of the expulsion of thousands of Jews out of Russia and appropriating and dividing up their businesses and property for themselves. He held no belief that the Monarchy would be abolished until it was too late. The Bolsheviks took his property, homes, art and jewelry. He had some money secreted away, but he knew that would not last long.

Two of Grand Duke Victor’s sons and his only daughter had already been killed during the revolution and he wanted, desperately, to save his twenty year old son, Grand Duke Sergei Ovsianico Romanov, who lived with the disease of ‘affluenza’. Grand Duke Victor did not mind his own poverty that would certainly follow, but he knew that his son would not be able to live the life of commoners and would, soon, by his own reckless foolery, get himself killed or thrown in prison. Sergei had learned no trade, as befitting the child of his social status. He only knew court life with the glitterati; hunting, yachting and horses. It was rumoured that The Grand Duke had several illegitimate children, but none that he could claim and present at court.

Victor begged the Grand Duchess to take him with her. He knew that Sergei would be of no value to her, but maybe, he could save the life of his only surviving child. The Grand Duke was a socialite to the core. He was handsome, although lean, with slicked back black hair, a slight scar on his chin and long powerful, slightly bowed legs. He was refined and spoke many languages. With a little self application, his impressive intellect would have allowed him a career in a field that could not be afforded to him because of the limitations of the monarchy and ruling classes.

Although, unable to have a career of his own choosing, he could have carried out military and court duties, but he was not disciplined like the senior nobles of the family who had to be in the public eye and carried out their duties, as was expected of them. Sergei just flitted from party to party. He knew nothing about how his finances were coming to him, even though he was old enough to have his own household.

The Grand Duchess knew her nephew well, but even with her foreboding, she still agreed, for the sake of her sister, the Grand Duke Sergei’s mother. She should have known that he came to her with little money. His father gave him, then, the equivalent of one million dollars; adequate for the middle class and more than enough for the lower class, but, for a Grand Duke of the Romanov Dynasty, especially one that liked to gamble, it was nothing. She knew in her heart that he would be reckless and throw it away, very quickly.

They all left England en route to Denmark, but, once there, Grand Duchess Evgenia and her husband preferred to go to the other side of the Atlantic, to Vermont, to start a life as dairy farmers. The Grand Duke had no choice, but to go with them. His Grand Uncle, King Christian X of Denmark let him know, in no uncertain terms, that he would not support him.

Unknown to most, she was the only surviving sibling of the Tsar and so upon his death, since he left no descendents, she became the rightful inheritor of his vast property, art and jewelry, and would have been Empress or Tsarina had the monarchy not been abolished. The Tsar was, unimaginably, very wealthy. It must be realized that, technically, he personally owned all of Russia. He was a billionaire then. In today’s currency, he would have been a trillionaire.

Unlike other exiled royalty, the Grand Duchess was unassuming, without a retinue and quietly moved about without notice. She did not need servants nor did she need the trappings of wealth. She never liked the opulent life. She always felt that she was on show. She wanted simplicity and, at a time when most of her relations were being killed, she most wanted to stay alive to have children, to watch them grow up and start their own families.

The Grand Duchess had already secreted her own personal jewelry, as well as, a very huge cache of the Tsar and Tsarina’s personal jewelry; huge diamond necklaces, stunning tiaras and sparkling bracelets, rings and earrings, all with emeralds, sapphires, rubies and pearls and priceless works of art, in the Bank of Britannia along with over a billion in Pounds Sterling and millions in gold and platinum bars. The plan was that if they were exiled then they would have access to them if they needed to sell them as it was sure that they would not claim anything left in Russia.

Everything was catalogued in leather bound albums of exquisitely coloured drawings with information about how a piece of jewelry or art was acquired, who gave it to them, on which day, who the maker or the artist was, its value or history of repairs or alteration. Each entry had a note written by the Grand Duchess.

The Grand Duke Sergei showed up at the pier in Copenhagen with cases and cases of clothes. The Captain and the Grand Duchess told him that he had to leave them. He was livid. They left on an old fishing boat and from the time that they set off, the Grand Duke Sergei complained. Granted, he was used to luxury yachting and that chugging tin can had no stabilizer, no plush stateroom and no chef to prepare wonderful meals, even if they had food. There was no valet to dress him in his yachting attire or in his evening attire for dinner followed by a concert of musicians to regal him after a 12 course meal. She was, even more so, accustomed to that life than he, but she was being totally pragmatic and was she was going to adapt.

The Grand Duchess told him to get it together or she would leave him at the pier when they arrived in New York, their first point of entry into the United States, before leaving two weeks later for Vermont. That was the soonest they could get passage. He would be on his own. So, he stopped complaining.

When they arrived in New York, the only lodging available was a very sophisticated hotel that catered to the wealthy. Now, that was what he expected. He loved it and immediately went out and bought a new wardrobe. He dressed himself (something he would have never done) and went down for dinner. He quickly summed up who would be interesting to play with and he introduced himself to two women and a gentleman. From then on, he immersed himself in the company of the hotel’s guests.

The Grand Duchess had enough and checked out on the third day. She and her husband decided to go to Vermont by land. She was ready to settle down on the farm that they purchased. They wanted to raise their family in peace and quiet.

Grand Duke Sergei was having none of that. He refused to go with her. She gave him the address of where they would be and told him that if he changed his mind he was welcomed to join her, but, she wanted none of the life that they were accustomed to.

He assimilated himself into the parties and dinners and, most of all, the bawdry life of gambling and prostitution. He suffered heavy losses and quickly blew through his money. He was indebted to everyone. Even though he flouted money while in their company, they got tired of him when he had none left. Eventually, no one believed his stories of Imperial connections. His creditors sent men to collect what was owed. For someone who had known nothing else, but having his every whim taken care of, he did not understand the concept that someone would even question his ability to repay them. They threatened to kill him so he fled to the Grand Duchess.

He asked Aunt Evi for money, and he expected to receive it, again and again after he ran up massive dept in one place after the other. Finally, she refused to give him any more, not that she didn’t have it, but because he was drawing attention to her. He turned his anger towards her then pleaded and begged for another ‘loan’.

She told him, “No more. Find a job”.

“What?”

He couldn’t believe what she said.

“What am I supposed to do? Is it my fault that I was born in the position that I am now in? How do you expect me to find a job if I was never trained for one? Besides, you have a lot, so what is it to you?”

“You can work on the farm. Work for your room and board and save your money. That is all that I will do.”

Quietly, Aunt Evi had her representative bid, at auction and private sale, on pieces that were brought to her attention that belonged to the Tsar, his wife, her mother, other family members, as well as, other items that were of personal interest to her. One day, while his Aunt was outside along with her husband in the dairy, her very well dressed Attorney had his car backed into the shed. Sergei saw when his ant and uncle were given a big metal trunk in which there were many small wooden boxes packed in straw. He carried them in his arms, like footballs, down to the underground cellar. On his last trip, when he came back out, he locked the cellar door and covered the entrance with large stones.

The following week, The Grand Duchess and her husband left for the only overseas trip that they would ever take since they were in Vermont. She took the boxes with her. When they returned, he saw his uncle go into the cellar again, this time only taking one small box with him. Again, on his exit, he put large stones over the cellar door. This was all too suspicious to Sergei, so he waited for the opportunity to look for himself.

While his Aunt was out again with her husband and the local veterinarian, Sergei stole the set of keys that were kept in a tin box in the kitchen and he went out and opened the cellar door. It took him a while, but he eventually found the wooden box on top of a beam. In it he saw the Ansbach Necklace, worn by Tsarinas and Grand Duchesses for decades. He knew he could get a lot of money for it, so, he gathered it up, closed the cellar door, locked it and replaced the stones. He told his Aunt that he was going to the city to get some books on animal husbandry.

“Finally.” his Aunt thought. “Maybe, he is becoming interested and wants to settle down, here.”

She had just found out that she was pregnant, again, and she wanted him to step up and become more involved with the day to day running of the dairy. She was being forced to take this pregnancy easy because neither of her two previous pregnancies resulted in a live birth. But, Sergei did not return that night or the next nor anytime soon after.

The Grand Duchess was worried when he did not return. She called the bookstore to ask if he had been there. The owner told her that he had not. She sent one of the farm hands to town to discreetly ask of his whereabouts. She got no answers. She thought the worst. Maybe he was dead. Maybe he was in a hospital hurt. She prayed, unceasingly, for his safety.

Months went by with no word from the Grand Duke. She had to go on with her life. She knew that he did not like living in Vermont. He craved for his former life. She thought that, maybe, he felt that he could return home, maybe he went back to Russia? No, he wouldn’t be that stupid, would he? She knew that would be a deadly decision. Whatever his actions, she did not want any harm to come to him, but she had no choice, but to put him at the back of her mind. Her pregnancy proved to be difficult and she went into premature labour with a stillborn child.

It was extremely difficult for her to deliver the child because the dead fetus could not assist with its own birth. It could not twist and turn and press back on the uterine and vaginal walls. Up until that time, most babies were born at home. That was the natural thing to do. In her case, after a very long time labouring with no progress, she ended up having an emergency Caesarian section to remove the decomposing fetus. Even though the fetus was in a bad condition, the Nurses allowed her to hold the child for as long as she wanted to. Then her Obstetrician came in and ordered the child removed.

“Mrs. Romanova,” he said, unaware of her imperial lineage, “you have to let him go, now. Let them prepare the child for burial, if that is what you want to do.”

She nodded her agreement as she handed her child to the Nurse. It was the third child that she was not going to nurture. This turn of events, though experienced in the past, still hurt her badly. Her husband felt the same. When she was released she was given a small yellow cloth lined coffin. She named him Nicholas after her brother, The Tsar. They went back to the farm and buried him with the other two lost children, under a grove of birch trees.

The Duke and Duchess of Windsor

& Sir Harry Oakes

In 1936, in the United Kingdom, there was a constitutional crisis after King George V died and his son and heir, the forty-two year old bachelor, Edward VIII (the Godson of Tsar Nicholas II, known in his family as David) wanted to marry Wallis Simpson, a once divorced American socialite whom he had known since 1931 and whom was still married to her second husband. The country could not allow it. As head of the Anglican Church, he could not marry a woman who already had two husbands that were very much alive.

Their affair made sensational headlines around the world. It sent ripples of alarm throughout the Royal family and the world. Wallis was scorned and reviled not only by the Royal family, but, supposedly, by most citizens of The United Kingdom and The British Dominions (now known as the Commonwealth Countries).

In his abdication speech, on December 11, 1936, he addressed the nation in a radio broadcast.

“You all know the reasons which have impelled me to renounce the throne. But, I want you to understand that, in making up my mind, I did not forget the country or the empire, which, as Prince of Wales and lately as King, I have for twenty-five years tried to serve.”

No public declaration of love has ever been as infamous as the statement, “You must believe me when I tell you that I have found it impossible to carry the heavy burden of responsibility and to discharge my duties as King, as I would wish to do, without the help and support of the woman I love.”

Some evidence suggest that the decision to abdicate may not have been entirely of his choosing. Some say that he was forced to, but whatever the impetus, he did and he left the United Kingdom for France and married Mrs. Simpson. Historians and social commentators alike say that Wallis did Britannia a favour.

His brother, Albert, became King instead, taking the name of George VI, By the grace of God, of Great Britain, Ireland and the British Dominions beyond the Seas, King, Defender of the Faith and Emperor of India. The new King gave ex-King Edward VIII the title, HRH (His Royal Highness), the Duke of Windsor, which was created for him. He was the first and only Duke with the title. It died with him. Wallis became the Duchess of Windsor, however, the Palace refused to allow her to use the title, ‘Her Royal Highness’.

Today, at least on the surface, their story is still considered, by some, to be one of the greatest love stories in history, because, a King, none other than Great Britain’s King and India’s Emperor, abdicated his throne to marry the woman that he loved, the unacceptable Wallis Simpson.

“You have no idea how hard it is to live out a great romance.” she often told friends.

It is thought that she really did not want to marry the Duke, but by the time as he abdicated and proclaimed that it was because he could not be King, with her as his Queen, she was resigned to her fate with him. Numerous letters recently unearthed from Wallis to her ex-husband Ernest Simpson profess her love for him even after she had been married to the Duke for some time.

With the knowledge of modern medicine, it is now believed that Wallis, like Tasha, may have been inter-sexed. She had the bold features and body build that characterize the condition; large hands, broad shoulders, a tiny waist, narrow hips and long legs and great athletic ability. Also, she did not bear any children after three marriages, during a time when contraception was not practiced, another feature of inter-sexed individuals.

Some say that he did not abdicate because he could not marry Wallis, as the King of England. Instead, they believe, he was forced to abdicate because of his affiliation to the Nazis and virulent dislike of the Jews and Wallis was just the excuse used. In either case, he was demoted to a Duke.

The Royal family was very much a German family. His father, King George V, during his reign, bowing to anti German sentimentality in the country, relinquished all of his, and his British relatives’, German titles and changed the family’s German name from Saxe-Coburg und Gotha to the more palatable English sounding Windsor, which was, also, the name of the oldest inhabited Castle in the world and the official residence of the British Royal Family; Windsor Castle.

As Great Britain and the Allied Forces fought Germany during World War II, there was a real fear that the Duke would publicly support Nazism. He had already done so privately and was photographed with Adolph Hitler and other Nazis many times. He said Hitler “not a bad chap. There is a film, in the Royal Archives, that shows the Duke, then The Prince of Wales, before he became King Edward VIII, teaching Elizabeth, Duchess of York (later the Queen Mother), Princess Elizabeth (later Queen Elizabeth II) and Princess Margaret, the Nazi salute four years before he abdicated and before the outbreak of World War II.

He made a deal with Hitler that would allow him to reign as King (and more importantly, Wallis as Queen) in the German territory of The United Kingdom once the Germans had won the war. He had also hoped that the Germans would beat the communist Russians (at that time a member of the allied forces) for the killing of his godfather, the Tsar Nicholas and his family.

The Duke and Duchess’ actions worried the British government, so much so they were ordered back to British soil from France and he was appointed the Governor of the Bahamas.

In August of 1940, a British warship brought them to New Providence, where, in the view of Prime Minister Winston Churchill, they could do the least damage to the British war effort. There, they hoped that he would be safe, out of the way and not used as a pawn for Hitler’s regime. The British government did not want him to be used in bargaining his return as King.

During their sail, the abdicated King brooded and the Duchess seethed at what they felt was beneath them. They, rightly, felt that the assignment was a punishment.

“There is nothing, here.” said Wallis as their ship docked in the harbour.

She could not appreciate the simplicity of the perfectly azure water and rich emerald green landscape. There were no mobs of people to see her, to fawn over her or to deride her. She found the Government House unlivable (to her standards) and set about renovating and redecorating it, albeit, at their own expense, while living in ‘Westbourne’, the home of Sir Harry Oakes. She hated the people and country calling it “full of petty people”. For Wallis, it was too base for her lifestyle.

The sniveling Duke loathed the Country, too. He did not enjoy the position, and referred to the islands as “a third-class British colony”. There were too many black people who they detested, as the Duke wrote to a friend, “They are the lowest form of life. They are like monkeys, really.”

He said of Sir Etienne Dupuch, the editor of the Nassau Daily Tribune: "It must be remembered that Dupuch is more than half Negro, and due to the peculiar mentality of this race, they seem unable to rise to prominence without losing their equilibrium.”

Sir Etienne’s grandsons were in Trinity and Tasha’s class at St. George’s School.

Wealthy industrialists clamored to the Island to be seen by them and be with them, lead by Sir Harry Oakes, from Canada and Axel Wenner-Gren, from Sweden. Wenner-Gren was the original owner of Hogg Island, which is now the famous Paradise Island. The British Foreign Office strenuously objected when the Duke and Duchess toured aboard a yacht belonging to him as it was believed that he was a close friend of the Nazi elite. They also found every opportunity to fly to the United States to the delight of the societies in Palm Beach, Rhode Island, New York and Virginia. They played more than they worked.

At a party in New York, Grand Duke Sergei ingratiated himself to the sixty nine year old Sir Harry Oakes, 1st Baronet , an American-born British Canadian gold mine owner, entrepreneur, investor and philanthropist who earned his fortune in Canada and moved to the Bahamas, like a lot of wealthy industrialists did at that time, to avoid paying taxes.

After the First World War, Grand Dukes, Dukes, Princes and Barons came at a dime a dozen, all with their hands out. They no longer had the prestige and money. But, not having heard of the debts that Grand Duke Sergei ran up, Sir Harry thought it would be interesting to include him in a party that he was taking to Nassau. Grand Duke Sergei had hoped that, once there, The Duke would show him some largesse, as his uncle, The Tsar Nicholas II, was The Duke’s godfather.

At Sir Harry’s house, ‘Westbourne’, on the evening of July 7th, 1943, Grand Duke Sergei had assumed that he was now among his own, but he was treated as little more than a cigarette lighter, a drinks getter. He offered the Ansbach Necklace to Sir Harry, but, he wasn’t interested in old things. He was only impressed with new things. Sergei figured that the Duke would appreciate having the necklace and he was impatient to show it to them. He got his chance.

The Duchess exclaimed, “Oh David! I have to have it.”

The Duke was totally depended on Wallis and her steely demeanor for his psychological welfare and so he never refused a want that she had. He told Grand Duke Sergei to put the necklace on the Duchess so that she could feel how it wore and then he would give an answer.

“Harry, I must speak with you.” said the Duke.

Sergei assumed that the Duke took Sir Harry into his study to get his opinion on the asking price of the necklace. The Duchess went into the salon with her friend, the Baroness Gerta von Hamm to admire the necklace. Sergei had to play it right. He heard the clock ticking. He heard voices, but no one came back to talk to him. He felt like he sat, waiting for them to return, for hours. He asked the Butler about their whereabouts. He was told that the Duke and Sir Harry could not be disturbed because they were having dinner.

“What?” he asked in disbelief.

“His Royal Highness and Sir Harry and their guests are having dinner and cannot be disturbed.” the Butler repeated.

Sergei was furious. He paced the room and verandah. He wondered why he was not invited to join them for dinner. Did they not know who he was? In his court they would defer to him, after all, he was a Grand Duke, son and brother to a long line of Tsars with more wealth, more country. The Duke of Windsor, an abdicated King, would not take precedence over him. That was a huge faux-pas and he was enraged by it. He went to his room down a far corridor and after a long time, and many cigarillos, he heard the sound of a car starting in the garage below him.

“I can’t believe that they put me over the garage. It is a place for servants.” he muttered.

He sprang up and looked over the verandah. He saw the Duke and Duchess leaving with the Duchess still wearing the necklace. Sergei ran down the corridor and out of the house to see the tail lights of the car receding. He tried to run the car down, but could not keep up. He held his head in disbelief. His mind then turned to Sir Harry and, in a fury, he ran back to the courtyard.

Sir Harry said, “Hold up, boy”.

“They have the necklace. Did he give you the money?” demanded Grand Duke Sergei.

“I am not a shop keeper.” Sir Harry replied.

He walked back into the house and went up the stairs to his bedroom. Sergei followed, trying to not be detected by other house guests. Sir Harry turned just as the he walked in.

“What do you want? Get out of here.”

“I want the necklace back.”

Sergei walked up to him and quickly clasped his hands around Sir Harry’s neck. Sir Harry took some steps back just to the bathroom door. Sergei released his hold and put his arms down.

“You idiot, you don’t just demand something back from the Duchess. I did not know that you came down here to hawk your wares. You lost. Now, get out!” shouted Sir Harry.

“How dare you speak to me like that?” asked the Grand Duke, who, again, clasped his hands around Sir Harry’s throat and pushed him against the bathroom door. “You are just a ‘made’ peer. You bought your knighthood, you little jumped-up man. It is only for your lifetime. You cannot pass it on. I was born a Grand Duke of the Romanovs!”

The door crashed open and Sir Harry fell and hit his head against the bathroom sink. Sergei stared down at Sir Harry who was bleeding profusely from his head wound. He saw Sir Harry’s breathing become fainter and fainter and then his eyes stopped looking around and lost their focus until, finally, they looked as dead as he was.

Sergei panicked and moved the body to the bed. He covered it with feathers from a pillow and threw a match on it. He cleaned the blood off the bathroom floor and threw the soiled towel on Sir Harry’s body. That night, he stowed away on a cargo boat that was leaving for Miami carrying red Cascarilla.

The dried bark of Cascarilla shrubs were packed into fifty pound fibrous bags and stacked in the hold. The bark was broken up into one and one half inch thick pieces, its corky layer being dull brown on the outer side and smooth on the inner side. The Cascarilla was harvested and destined for Italy to be made into the Campari liqueur, an unctuous aperitif usually served on the rocks with orange juice.

It is, also, very resinous. The Grand Duke was a heavy smoker and he thought that he recognized the smell. When burned, Cascarilla emits a strong, aromatic, somewhat musk-like odor. Its taste is warm and bitter. Because of its pleasing odour when burned, resembling that of musk, vanilla, or amber, it was used to improve the natural flavour and odour of tobacco for cigarettes, cigars and pipes. It is, still, added in small portions to tobacco to render the fumes more fragrant.

He settled himself as far down as he could get. He would not open his mouth to complain of any indignities being settled on him like he would have done in the past. Now, in the hold of the rickety boat, he thought any day old rye bread would be a treat and he was desperate for water.

He lay still, with the Cascarilla creating a dense acrid fog around him. A little was one thing, but a whole boat full was another. He did everything he could to not cough. He was choking and yet he, still, wanted his brand of Cigarillo to calm him. But, the lighting of one with its wafting aroma would have given his game away. This Grand Duke, who would have had a footman rush to light it for him, now, dared not. His life depended on it.

He came off the boat when it was almost at the dock and swam the rest of the way. He left the water on a far section where he found a ramp. Cautiously, he pulled himself out. He sat to catch his breath, but he had to press on. He had to figure out a way to make it back to Vermont. His return ticket was in his pocket and it was ruined by the water.

He was so hungry and thirsty. He had no money in his pocket. He could not command someone to fetch anything for him. He had to keep asking how to get to Vermont. A group of men that he met on the street told him to meet them on the train tracks and they would show him which train to stow away on.

They had already seen his spats and his nice coat, too. Even better, they saw his signet ring and bracelet which looked near enough like gold, to them. As he walked toward one man the other came behind and struck him on the back of the head. They stole everything off of him and pushed him, naked, into one of a train’s empty carriages.

The next thing that he knew was that he vomited dark crimson blood and was cold. He could barely see and as the train pulled into its next stop, he stumbled around and was discovered by a porter. He was thrown out of the carriage. He was jeered at. His cries for help were heard by the son of the stockyard foreman who told his father. He brought the buggy around, picked him off the ground and put him on the back of the buckboard and the son threw a blanket over him. They took him to their barn, gave him some water and some clothes to wear.

“You can stay here in the barn until you stop bleeding, but that’s all that I can do.” the father said.

“Please, can you tell me how to get to Vermont?” pleaded the Prince.

“I don’t know, but this is St. Augustine, Florida. You’ve got a whole lot of country to get to Vermont. I’ll find out from one of my son’s maps. You can rest in here, tonight, but I’ve got to tell you that if you come out of this barn and come anywhere near my house, I will shoot you. We’ll bring you some milk and bread in the morning. If you feel the need to leave before then, I am fine with that too.”

The father arranged for him to work his passage on one of the cargo boats taking wares to Maryland. He loved to sail and he had excellent seamanship skills. But, on his boat and even on the Tsar’s Yacht, the Standart, he chose his ‘work’.

The Captain of the cargo boat was not a good man. He fed the crew once a day, like dogs. It was one piece of hard tack and a lump of pork belly. Sergei was always hungry and now because of his dehydration, he was seasick.

The Captain said, “If you can’t work you can’t eat.”

The work was backbreaking. When a labourer died on board, the Captain told the crew to throw the body overboard. He didn’t even allow a prayer when the body was committed to the deep. This shocked the Prince. It was so undignified.

When the ship sailed into Maryland and unloaded, Grand Duke Sergei asked to be paid. The Captain said that he would not receive pay until the boat took all of the new cargo on board. Then he said Sergei would not be paid until the boat was underway, back to St. Augustine, but Sergei wasn’t going back. He needed his money to get to Vermont.

While the Captain was preoccupied inventorying the cargo for the return journey, Sergei saw him put money into his inner coat. He decided he was going to get his pay. He slowly situated himself near to the Captain and when he had the chance, he came up behind him and held him in a chokehold until he passed out. As the captain slid to the ground, Sergei reached into the inner pocket of his coat and withdrew the money. Then, he ran.

When the Captain regained consciousness, he sounded the alarm. Sergei was usually a fit man, but he had very little to eat during the previous few weeks and he was badly malnourished. His head and body ached, his legs failed him. He stopped, panting out of breath, trying to regain his bearings. He could hear the Police and stevedores looking for him.

He heard another Captain loading a cargo of Dungeness crabs, bound for New York. The Grand Duke saw a very large crate of crabs and seaweed and dove into it. He completely covered himself with the crustaceans. Unaware that a man was in the crate, the crewmen shoveled more crabs and ice onto him.

Sergei started shivering, uncontrollably. Almost immediately, he felt dizzy and nauseous. His breathing became shallow and fast and he could feel his own heartbeats become faster and faster. He did not realize how dire his predicament was. To him, this was better than being discovered by the Police. He was tired and just wanted to sleep. He decided that he would wait awhile then come out when he thought he had eluded them.

The shivering finally stopped and he began to feel better. He could, finally, get the sleep that he so badly wanted. His body was hurt and fatigued, but he wasn’t aware of his deteriorating condition. He started to dream of ice skating on the pond in the park at Alexander Palace back in St. Petersburg. In his dream he took the Tsar’s daughter, his cousin, the Grand Duchess Tatiana across the pond.

She was the best skater in the family. Her movements were energetic and strenuous. It was a source of pride to the Tsar that all of his children were athletic, but Tatiana could beat the pants off of any one else, boy or girl, in everything. They came back to the rest of the group where they were offered hot chocolate, but the Grand Duke was already sweating and he refused. He was aware that he was trying to remove his coat and gloves. His frozen fingers, stiff and immobile, could not aide him.

Abruptly, he felt someone pulling his arm.

“What is it?” the stevedore asked a custom’s agent.

“It looks like a man’s arm.”

“What’s it doing in there? Is there a man in there? Is he alive?”

The fishmonger said, “He better be alive. Get him out of there before I have to throw that load away.”

The fishmonger was more concerned about losing the value of the crabs than he was about a man’s life. When they dropped the load of crabs onto the wagon his body fell out. He was completely stiff. Only the quick actions of the crew saved him. They knew that extreme hypothermia would shunt warm blood to the inner core of the body. There was a chance that he could be fully resuscitated. He may have lost a toe or two, but he would live.

They wrapped him in blankets. Once they got him moved to a fireside they took the blankets off him, otherwise they would just be insulating the cold, keeping his body colder, for longer. They arranged a truck to take him to hospital where he was infused with warm saline while wrapped in a heating blanket. His heart beat slowly, at first. They would not know if his brain was affected until he regained consciousness. He remained in hospital for 32 days. He lost three toes and two fingers. He had no neurological problems, except, confusion and delusion, they thought. He told them that he was The Grand Duke Sergei.

One physician in training said, “Me, too”.

The group laughed. The consultant on the teaching round said, “I’m afraid I am going to fail all of you for your neurological round today and I am going to inform your Psychiatric consultant, Dr. Archer, that as advanced as you claim to be, you just made a biased decision about the patient without knowing all of the facts.”

He looked at all of them, slowly and then said, “Maybe he is not confused? Maybe he is not delusional? Did you ever think that he might be a Grand Duke? How many Grand Dukes do you know?”

They reacted, at first, shocked that he would suggest such a thing. When they realized how serious he was, they were contrite.

Grand Duke Sergei was released later the next day. He was given a Good Samaritan food package of sausage, cheese, bread, milk, apples and bus fare, from the Consultant, to get to Vermont.

When he made it back to the farm he just wanted to hug his Aunt and beg her forgiveness. She was very happy to see him. He looked different, changed, matured. He told her everything that happened then spent the rest of her life taking care of her and his uncle. And, he realized that the child she was pregnant with when he left also did not survive. He looked at her and kissed her hands. She, more than anybody that he knew, deserved children and he was sorry that she still did not have one to hold in her arms, to rock to sleep or to dry its tears.

“I’m so sorry.” he said and hugged her.

“Thank you.” she said as she dabbed her nose with her handkerchief. “I have something to tell you.”

She told him that on the instructions of her brother the Tsar, she secured money and jewels in an account and a safety deposit box at the Bank of Britannia. The box could only be opened with two key elements that became one. One key element was incorporated into the gold clasp of single strand pearl necklace that she wore every day and the other was incorporated into the platinum clasp of the Ansbach Necklace. Yes. The very one that he stole to sell to the Duke and the very one the Duchess stole from him. Shortly after she told him this, with her husband preceding her, she died. Both of them left him as their sole beneficiary.

“You are a very rich man. What are you going to do?” her lawyer asked.

“I am going down to Palm Beach. Put the farm up for sale. I just want to retreat from the world for a while.” Sergei told him.

No one ever came looking for him. He heard the talk around town about Sir Harry’s murder for a long time. Sir Harry was known, everywhere, but no one came to arrest him or even question him. He heard talk that Sir Harry’s daughter’s husband, Count Alfred de Marigny was being tried for the murder. When de Marigny was acquitted he breathed a sign of relief. He had already made up his mind that if the Count was found guilty, he would give himself up because he did not want another man to be hanged for something he had done. He did not mean to kill Sir Harry, but he did not want to be locked up for it, either.

Against everyone’s advice, The Duke had taken over the investigation of the case himself and appointed inexperienced detectives, out of Miami, to the case instead of waiting for Scotland Yard Detectives who were already stationed in New York.

The Press thought that he bungled the investigations. Everyone thought that he caused Count de Marigny to get off for the murder by having the police out of Miami fabricate finger print evidence that pointed to him, but the Duke knew what he was doing. He bet on the fact that once the jury was convinced that evidence was planted, they would have no choice but to find de Marigny innocent. Like the Grand Duke Sergei, the Duke of Windsor did not want de Marigny to be hanged for a murder that he didn’t commit, but he didn’t want the real killer to be discovered which would bring attention to him.

The Grand Duke Sergei figured, rightly, too, that the last thing the Duke wanted to do was to let anyone discover that Sir Harry was killed over the Ansbach Necklace that was now in their possession; a necklace that belonged to The Grand Duchess, the sister of his godfather, The Tsar Nicholas II. After de Marigny was acquitted, the case fell to the wayside, never looked into again. Nothing else was heard about it. That was a brilliantly played game of chess, Your Royal Highness, brilliantly played. Who would have thought that you were capable of that?

How could the Duke be so cunning on one hand, but so lacking in astuteness on the other? He fully expected that he would be (re)crowned King of England, albeit a Dictator King, and the Duchess his Queen, once Adolf Hitler and the Germans invaded England and once the war was won by them. But, the Nazis were defeated and Germany was parceled up between the Soviet Union and the United States. There was no hope of him returning to the British throne.

Sergei settled into the life of Palm Beach where his expertise in horses won him praise all around. He worked up to be the most respected trainer of horses and riders in the state. He eventually bought the stable from the estate of the owner. But, he did not socialize with the members of the high society there. He had had enough of them.

He found a lovely woman to spend his life with, Mavis. She was a brown hair, brown eyed beauty from Charleston, North Carolina, the daughter of a middle class Physician father and stay at home mother. Her parents were not members of a Country Club, but they lived in the country and everyone in the country learned how to ride.

Sergei revealed to her father who he was. He told Mavis the night before their wedding. It was one thing for them to believe that he was descended from a line of the Romanovs, but he knew that they would not believe his tale of great wealth, especially since he did not have the key element from the Ansbach to prove it. He didn’t want to start a marriage with that burden.

They settled down and raised a son, Alexander. However, Alexander was not interested in the life of horses and riding. He went to college and earned his degree in structural engineering. He loved to build things. He held absolutely no stock in the Romanov name. He felt that, since Communism, there were other descendants of the other branches of the Romanovs and they had ended up relative paupers. He wasn’t interested, either.

Alexander married a Teacher, Janice Kinds, from Mississippi. In 1964 Alexander was offered the position of Chief Engineer of the multimillion dollar resort complex that was under construction on Paradise Island. His wife, Janice, took a position as a kindergarten teacher at St. Timothy’s School and their daughter Tasha was enrolled there, as well, in Grade 1.

The day her grandfather, The Grand Duke Sergei, died, the day after his horse, Caesar, was put down, he gave Tasha an emerald green leather covered box that held her great grandaunt’s pearl necklace with instructions on finding the key element within. This was no plain pearl necklace. These were the most exquisite natural pearls that had the slightest milky pink luster that was enhanced by the Grand Duchess’ daily wearing.

Another package from the Grand Duchess held the albums of jeweler’s drawings and insurance company photographs that she acquired before the Ansbach necklace was taken by Sergei. He also gave her an affidavit stating that the Ansbach necklace rightfully belonged to him and it was taken by The Duke and Duchess when they left the party with it and did not return it. There was also a notarized affidavit declaring that Tasha was the rightful heir of the jewelry and the rightful heir to his estate. It also held instructions on how to find the second key once the necklace was recovered.

Her grandfather also gave her the herald, seal and flag of the Romanov dynasty, the black double headed eagle that was given to him by the Grand Duchess. He gave her instructions to take them, along with the key element from the pearl necklace that his aunt wore and the key element from the recovered Ansbach Necklace to the Bank of Britannia with the instructions to tell the Governor, whoever that may be at the time – because each new Governor was briefed on what to do in expectation of this very day – “The Double-Headed Eagle has come home.”

Tasha thought that sounded so corny, like some back alley henchman in an old black and white movie whispering a password through a screened door hole to gain entrance into a poker game.

She told Fred, “I was overwhelmed with it all; do this, do that, do the next thing. I didn’t expect for him to die the next day. I never expected to ever see the Ansbach, although, I didn’t forget about it.”

Uncle Fred’s help

Uncle Frederick looked at Tasha like she had lost her damn mind. Not because anything that she said was untrue. No. It was because what she told him was very true, but he never expected to hear of it again. He never thought that he would be in the position of having to divulge what happened that night.

He said, “Give me a minute.”

He got up and climbed the stairs to go to his bedroom.

“OK, Uncle Fred.” she said meekly, still reeling.

She and Trinity just sat there, Tasha trembling and Trinity confused. Uncle Fred came back down after a while, holding a larger picture which showed, without a doubt, the sparkling Ansbach necklace around The Duchess’ neck.

He gave it to Tasha then told them what happened that night.

Wednesday, July 7th, 1943, started out a gorgeous day, but by ten am, was already insufferably hot. The Duchess spent the morning, mostly in her suite, having her nails and hair done and complaining about the heat. The Duke left the Government House, very early in the morning, for a round of golf with Sir Harry and his friends after which they all joined the Duchess for a luncheon at the yacht club, where the resident social circle talked about her.

“She is an impeccable dresser and she has such exquisite taste. It would be good if her manners were not so imperious and brusque.” said Sir Harry’s wife, Eunice, Lady Oakes, to Harold Christie, a Bahamian property developer.

They left in the evening to attend a dinner party of twelve at ‘Westbourne’, the residence of Sir Harry. The Duke and Duchess left Sir Harry’s house at 1:40 am under a waning crescent moon. His house master rang the Government House to tell Frederick that the Duke’s car left Sir Harry’s compound. The drive to the house was less than 10 minutes, but they did not arrive until 2:35 am. The chauffer told Uncle Fred that the Duke had him drive past the Government House to Fort Montague. The reason was because they were arguing. She loudly denigrated him and treated him horribly at the party.

When they arrived at Fort Montague, the Duke told the chauffeur and his protection officer to leave the car. They walked about one hundred yards up the beach. This situation was not a good one. They were both looking all around for trouble and they also did not want any witnesses to the Duke and Duchess’ argument. The protection officer kept trying to tell the Duke that it was not safe to be there, but he was rebuffed again and again.

The Duke asked the Duchess, “Why do you always have to embarrass me? Can’t you understand that I am hurt when you flagrantly, drunkenly, come on to another man and even a woman in the same night? Why so you always have to provoke me?”

She lit a cigarette with his lighter and ignored him.

“These people are not our social equal. They are Sir Harry’s friends. We just met them.”

“It is just a little fun. You used to do it all the time.” she answered, closing the lighter.

“Good God woman, I gave up my throne for you. I was a King. Doesn’t that mean I should have some respect and expectation of propriety from you? Is it nothing to you, at all?”

He looked out to the sea which was illuminated by an unbroken ray of moon light shining down on the quiet sleeping water.

“You demand so much.” he continued. “Look at that necklace that you wanted. I would have bought it just to appease you. You are so greedy. Are you ever going to be satisfied with just me?”

A Police officer walked up. The Protection Officer told him that they would be leaving. He didn’t care what the Duke said. He was assigned by the Palace. It was his job to keep the Duke safe and that meant that sometimes he had to give orders to the Duke.

Even though the ride home was taking longer than usual, no one could rest as long as the Duke was out. So Frederick had to remain in full livery. The Duchess’ lady, exhausted from her work, sat nodding off in a chair upstairs outside of her suite. He ran up, taking two tread and risers at a time.

He called out to everyone, “Their Majesties are on the property”.

Everyone stiffened. The Lady’s maid came down. With a footman she waited for them at the entrance of the House.

At that time, unbeknownst to Frederick, the Duke and Duchess were not reigning monarchs, so, he should not have referred to them as such. The Duchess, especially, loved it, so she encouraged him to use the address. But, the Duke grew to detest it. More and more, it reminded him that he once was a reigning King and then an ex King. For the Duchess, he put up with that indignity and many others.

A footman stood at the door as they walked in. As was her habit, the Duchess cast off her mink stole, her gloves and her bag for the maid to catch as she dutifully followed her. She wore mink even in the height of summer. The Duchess never gave her jewels to anyone to put away. She always put them in their storage boxes in the wall safe herself. She kept the key hidden.

That night, everyone noticed the necklace that she was wearing. It was not one that they had ever seen before and they knew that she did not leave the House with it. The Ansbach Necklace was a wall of diamond fence posts with flowers and leaves running through it. It could also be adapted to be worn as a Kokoshnik style tiara with just the upright fence posts placed close together and the flower and leaves removed. It was pretty formal for such a small dinner. She called to her Lady’s maid to fetch a silk bag. The maid thought that was odd. All of the Duchess’ jewelry had labeled presentation boxes for their storage.

“If it were a gift from someone at the party, why wasn’t the gift given with its box?” Fred asked.

The Duchess stayed in her suite and the Duke went to his study, both of them angry with the other. He smoked a pipe and read then fell asleep on his divan.

Frederick slept for about three hours. He was woken up by a footman. The house was already abuzz with news about a death. When he walked into the kitchen he was told that Sir Harry was killed. Frederick immediately asked about the Duke. One of the footmen told him that the Duke was already awake and was being briefed by his Aide de Camp. Frederick quickly drank a cup of tea then went to the Duke’s study. The look on the Duke’s face was one of alarm and fear. He carried that expression for the rest of his life.

How was he going to explain to his brother, the new King George VI, that he was with Sir Harry just an hour before his death? How was he going to explain that the Duchess kept a necklace that belonged to the Grand Duke Sergei? Although no one knew that Sergei killed Sir Harry because of the necklace, the Duke did not want that connection to be made. He didn’t want comparisons to be made between that necklace and the one that helped to sow the seeds of discontent against the French Monarchy.

That incident, referred to as The Affair of the Diamond Necklace, further ruined the reputation of Queen Marie Antoinette of France as it was implied that she was a participant in a crime to defraud the Crown Jewelers of the cost of the outrageously expensive necklace. The incident was historically significant in that it contributed to the disillusionment in the decadent reign of her husband, King Louis XVI, and all other Kings before him, when the general populace was starving. The storming of the Bastille heralded the start of the French Revolution. Louis was arrested and tried for high treason for which he was found guilty and beheaded. Queen Marie Antoinette was also tried and beheaded soon after.

The Duke knew that the news would go around the world. He didn’t know what to do. He had already scandalized the staid British aristocracy with his own abdication and marriage to the Duchess. He decided that he would take over the investigation to make sure that he controlled what information was leaked out. He was a very heavy smoker before, but during those days, a cigar, cigarette or pipe never left his fingers.

The Palace instructed the Duke’s staff to immediately stop any access to him. No one was to speak to him because he had a habit of making gaffs. He was not to even be let out of the House. But, he ignored the instructions and he and his Aide de Camp had talks with investigators in Miami. The Duchess immediately left the Island the next day, still in a huff, with the Ansbach necklace in her travelling case along with all of her other jewelry. She left nothing on the Island.

There was no way in the world that he could pay for the necklace or return it. A transaction of any kind would have brought more attention to his involvement with Sir Harry. He would have been damned if he did or damned if he didn’t. Eventually, after the case brought against Alfred de Marigny collapsed, the Duke was relieved that there was no further investigation. He did what he had to do. He resigned as The Governor on 16 March 1945 and left the Island for good, with good riddance from both sides. Frederick went with them.

But, they went back to France, where he was just as reviled by the French for his Nazis sympathies. If the French Resistance had gotten a hold of him, during the actual war, he would have been grateful to be on the Island.

In any event, the City of Paris provided their mansion, as a thank you for England’s help in the War. Controversially, it was said that their allowance, from the Royal Family, was supplemented by French government favours and illegal currency trading. They paid no taxes to the French government and they bought duty-free goods through the British embassy.

Tasha claims her Property

Expeditiously, with Uncle Fred’s help, Tasha proved that the necklace taken by the Duke and Duchess, from her grandfather, the Grand Duke Sergei, now belonged to her. She was able to prove that the Ansbach Necklace was included in the estate of the Duke and Duchess. The Duchess left her estate to the MerCurie Institute. Tasha’s Attorneys filed a lawsuit against the Duke and Duchess’ estate and The MerCurie Institute. The Institute did not want all of the rest of the estate tied up in protracted legal proceedings. They were anxious to get the rest of the estate auctioned and the funds put into the coffers of the Institute which was already cash strapped. It is believed that the Royal Family, encouraged the MerCurie Institute to quietly give the Ansbach Necklace to Tasha so that it could not be said that the Duke and Duchess of Windsor were thieves.

The secreting of the jewels in the Bank of Britannia ended up being the best decision of the Grand Duchess and the Tsar because the revolution toppled him and the whole Romanov dynasty with him. Of their private artwork, furniture and jewels that were left behind in Russia most were lost, taken by the Bolsheviks, sold or locked up in some new oligarch or wealthy foreigner’s private collection.

The jewels that the Grand Duchess held were her private property. She left them all to the Grand Duke Sergei to give to his female children or grandchildren because she ‘knew’ that the rest of the jewelry would return to her family one day and jewels were for women, not men. Since Tasha was the only female descendent at the time, she inherited them all.

With the documentation from The Grand Duchess, she was able to trace and prove ownership of the jewelry, works of art and other family heirlooms because she had the provenance. The people and estates that stole or bought the Tsar’s other jewels and artwork could not prove their ownership. Tasha had all of the receipts and she successfully blocked auctions and private sales to get many of them back.

After the Grand Duchess’ mother, The Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna, died, her jewelry started being ‘bought up’ by members of the aristocracy and Royal families, wealthy socialites and jewelry houses of various countries, although, no one could have legally sold the jewels or artwork to them. They, too, belonged to the Grand Duchess Evgenia, her rightful heir. They acquired the stolen items illegally, many on the black market, and the courts agreed.

Tasha’s lawsuits brought about landmark cases of restitution to her. Uncle Fred was a great part of this because, with his connections and due diligence, he found out who held the jewels and artworks. It couldn’t have been done without him.

Tasha asked Trinity to come along with her to London to claim the accounts and the contents of the safety deposit boxes left there by the Grand Duchess. She sent a letter to the Governor of the bank, Mr. George Ponsby. Having made initial contact with him, she called his office to make the appointment to see him. He knew that it was not a hoax or false claim. He immediately cleared his schedule to accommodate her.

“The Double-Headed Eagle has come home.” she told him.

Even though he knew the password, he could not believe his ears. When he became the Governor of the bank, seventeen years prior, he was told, in secret, the password and how to open the safety deposit box by the outgoing Governor and the Chairman of the Board. That’s it. No one else.

The bank was always anxious that someone would claim the Grand Duchess’ accounts. They billed her for service fees - which she paid every year by remitting a cheque to them, never allowing them to debit her account. Other than that, they heard nothing from her, except for one time in 1927, nine years after she left Russia. On that trip she brought with her twenty-two more boxes of tiaras, necklaces, bracelets, etc. She had those placed in the vault and she left, declining a meeting with the Governor at that time. The only one she took back with her was the Ansbach Necklace.

There was business that they wanted to discuss with her, however, she always rebuffed their requests for her to either come to London or for the Governor to go to her. They were powerless to do anything about it, she held the upper hand. After they found out that she died, they expected to hear from her estate, at least, but they heard nothing.

After the Second World War, world economy rebounded. Long term holdings saw increasing gains. But, Mr. Ponsby joined the bank when a financial crisis and world recession was taking hold in the seventies. He was there during the adventurous eighties and the decadent nineties, but, since the turn of the century, people who made money were afraid to spend it. For those who did not have the money, credit ceased. Families saw their properties taken in foreclosures.

Banks were nervous, but for a different reason. They had to be competitive. Loyalties were being broken. They could easily lose an account to another bank without notice. The Grand Duchess’ account was one that they watched very closely because what the bank had depended a great deal on a simple sign.

The Bank was built not far from the north bank of the River Thames on Royal Cotton Street. It was built on extra prime real estate in the Financial District in the City of London just before the building boom took place around it. Nearby, are Buckingham Palace, London Bridge and the Tower of London. Top restaurants and high end shops and boutiques surround it. The British Museum, Covent Gardens, West End, SoHo and Piccadilly Circus are all just a Tube ride away.

Up until the 1980s Bowler hats were commonly associated with the businessmen working in the district and men wearing them, while carrying an umbrella, were a common and iconic sight. Although the "City Gents" stopped wearing the Bowler hat, the pinstripe suit was still the de rigueur uniform.

The day that Tasha notified the Bank of Britannia, The London Stock Exchange and The New York Stock Exchange had precipitous drops in its stock values. Investors in many Fortune 500 companies saw their stock shares devaluated. CEOs were still paying themselves millions in bonuses even though their companies underperformed, lost money and let go staff.

Before they were taken to the safe deposit box, Mr. Ponsby, a tall, ‘more salt than pepper’ haired man with a boyish face, who looked like Pearce Brosnan, welcomed them.

“Mr. Ponsby, this is my dear friend, Ms. Trinity Paget.”

“How are you, Ms. Paget?” he asked.

“I am well, thank you. And, you?” she asked.

He was stunned for a second. She had the most mellifluous voice that he had ever heard. It sounded warm and familiar.

“Have you visited London before, Mrs. Paget?” he asked, drawn to her.

“Actually, I went to school here, but I have not returned until now.”

He was very drawn to her, like he already knew her and was about to continue their conversation when a bank employee came in and presented Tasha with two navy blue cards bearing neither a name nor a logo. Tasha swiped the card and put in her Personal Identification Number; Nica’s date of birth. She passed one card to Trinity. They were fingerprinted and iris scanned by the employee then when they were done, Tasha and Trinity were each handed a laptop.

“Freebies?” asked Trinity.

“Yes.” said Mr. Ponsby.

Tasha was shown the balance on the account. She chuckled. Trinity looked at her wondering why. Tasha pointed to the number and they both looked at each other like, “Yeah, Right”.

“That figure is correct.”

The balance was Pounds Sterling 2,836,527,899.57.

Tasha and Trinity looked at each other in shock. Mr. Ponsby looked at Tasha over his glasses.

He smiled and said, “I don’t do orientation for all account holders.”

In response to that, Trinity vocalized a pleasant, “humph” and turned her attention back at the view outside of his office. It was a beautiful vista of London’s skyline.

“Orientation, isn’t that a very American thing to say?” she thought.

She didn’t know it then, but when Tasha signed all of the forms and declarations she put down the name of Trinity Paget and Nica Paget as her signatories and beneficiaries. She also gave Trinity unrestricted access to the account which Trinity, also, did not know. When Mr. Ponsby asked Trinity to set her PIN, be fingerprinted and retinal scanned, and provide her details, she did so, thinking that it was because she was put down as an emergency contact.

Another shock was in store for them when they were escorted to the ‘safety deposit box’.

“How could these tiny little things open a safety deposit box?” Tasha asked Mr. Ponsby. “They look so fragile.”

He showed her. The Grand Duchess had her safety deposit box custom built and opening it was no easy feat. Two elements had to combine, one from the Grand Duchess’ pearl necklace and one from the Ansbach necklace. They were not used up and down with a right turn, like an ordinary lock and key. Mr. Ponsby laid them down flat together to trip the mechanism that released hydraulic fluid exposing the tumblers. A rod then dropped out that the key elements were inserted into and then the key was used in the normal way. The door to the vault then opened.

This was no ordinary safety deposit box. There were inlaid mahogany double doors behind the vault’s door. They were eight feet tall. When the doors opened Tasha and Trinity looked into a room. The lights turned on one after the other in sequences, all except one. All of the jewels were displayed in their own cabinets of dark mahogany. All with their provenance neatly typed out. If you poured out a half cup of sugar on a table, each crystal of sugar would represent one stone in the safe. Tasha and Trinity looked at each other.

Mr. Ponsby left them alone and closed the mahogany double doors. He had two guards remain outside of the vault.

“What is this?” asked Trinity, looking at the vast room of sparkling jewels.

She looked at Tasha. At that moment Tasha was looking to the ground. Trinity looked at her quizzically, seeing something odd for the first time. In that moment Tasha looked so regal, as if she were wearing one of the tiaras and an ermine robe. She had never seen Tasha like that before. Trinity went to step ahead, but instinctively drew back and looked at her.

She asked, “Did you know it was all of this?”

Tasha shook her head and whispered, “No.”

“There’s no one else in here, but us.”

Tasha is Sick in London

Tasha was reeling. She turned to Trinity and put her hand on her shoulder. For her, the room was spinning. It was cold, but she was sweating. Trinity steadied her and took her to one of two chairs by a table. She put her bag on the table and took out a bottle of water and offered it to Tasha. She reached for tissues, as well, but before she could react, Tasha vomited the water at Trinity’s feet.

She said, “T, I’m sorry, I don’t feel well.”

“Come. Lie down over here on the floor.”

It was all too much for Tasha. She was drained after the last round of her chemotherapy. Trinity sat beside her on the floor and put some of the cool water on a handkerchief and wiped her brow with it. Tasha tried to get up. When she did, she felt dizzy again and Trinity had to guide her back down to the floor.

She looked for Tasha’s medication in her bag. None was there. She didn’t know what to do. She soon realized, though, that there was a buzzer on the table and she pressed it many times, but no one came. She tried pushing on the door. She called out. She knocked. Finally she took Tasha’s phone out of her purse, put in her password and looked at the call history for the number of the bank. The call went directly to Mr. Ponsby’s Secretary. Trinity asked her to tell him that they were stuck in the room and Tasha was sick.

Within five minutes Mr. Ponsby opened the door and he, the guards and the staff medic came in. The junior officer, Callum Mellon, a former special weapons army officer had not long before started working at the bank. None of them had ever seen the room before and they, too, were staggered by the sight of the jewels. Trinity told him what happened.

“I am so sorry Mrs. Paget. I can only assume that the buzzer is not working, maybe because it was installed nearly a century ago.” he said to her. “An ambulance is on the way.”

The staff medic went to Tasha immediately. Mr. Ponsby brought a blanket and pillow with him. He went over to Tasha, put the blanket over her, put the pillow under her head then placed his hand on her arm for a few seconds as he dropped his head. Tasha tried to resist their efforts, but then she had no choice as she lost consciousness.

Later on that afternoon, Mr. Ponsby heard Security Officer Mellon, as he leaned over a co-workers desk, telling her what he had seen in the room and what happened to Tasha. The other employee had no need to know this information to perform their duties, so Mr. Ponsby dismissed him immediately for breach in confidentiality.

He assigned two employees, Susan Morales and Andy Grimes, as Personal Assistants to Tasha and Trinity. They would offer their help in rotation. At first Trinity saw no use for them, but she knew why they were sent. Except for the government, private corporations and foreign countries, Tasha was their biggest client, in money, gold reserves, jewels, artwork and property.

It turned out that the PAs were very helpful. They bought bedding, pillows, blankets, magazines, books, toothbrushes, slippers, everything. They asked Trinity to give them a list of anything else that she needed. They had the suites at the hotel closed to everyone. They asked her for her food preferences and they gave her an iPhone with Mr. Ponsby’s private cell number already programmed in it.

Trinity could only think of Tasha. She gave the Consultant as much of her medical history as she could. It was the first time that she ever told anyone that Tasha was born inter sexed. She advised them that Tasha was diagnosed with testicular cancer that had spread to her liver and she already had two rounds of chemotherapy. She had complained to Trinity that she couldn’t eat because she had mouth ulcers and everything tasted metallic. Tasha looked so sick lying there, unresponsive. She was put on a ventilator and while she was being admitted to the Intensive Care Unit, Trinity called Tasha’s mother, Janice.

She said through her tears, “Aunt Janice, I don’t know very much except that she has been admitted to ICU and is on a ventilator. The physicians only know that she is severely anemic and may have thrown a blood clot to the brain, possibly because of the chemotherapy. They are reviewing her CT scans now.”

Aunt Janice was a very outgoing woman, but she was worried about her only child and she could barely speak.

“I need to be with her. She needs her Mama.” Aunt Janice cried.

Trinity told her, “Yes, Ma’am. Where are you now? I will send the Aurora to pick up Uncle Fred and Nica to come for you.”

“I am in Boulder, Colorado visiting my brother.” she said softly. “Please make sure that they take care of my baby.”

“Yes, I will Aunt Janice.” she promised. “Nica will call you to keep you informed of when they will be there.”

Tasha did not need her assistant when they came to London on this visit. She had given him a small paid break until their next case, so Susan made the arrangements for their arrival and transportation to the hotel and hospital.

The Aurora was readied to fly to Miami then Boulder and back to London. Additional food, linen, refreshments and newspapers, etc., were taken on. The staff was excellent. This jet was a particularly fast one. Captain Gene ‘Jet’ Issam was Chief Pilot. He used to work for Aviation Works which Tasha used frequently until she asked him to join her staff. They were due in about twenty-one hours. All she could do now was hope and pray at Tasha’s bedside.

Tasha’s Consultant said to Trinity, “She has to have emergency surgery to remove the blood clots on her brain and reduce the cranial pressure.”

Trinity replied, “Her mother is due to arrive in about twenty-one hours.”

“It’s too dangerous to wait. We have to proceed now.”

Trinity called Aunt Janice again then enacted her Power of Attorney to consent.

Once again, she sat in a recovery room worried about her dear friend. Her brain was addled by her fear. Quick thinking and nurturing Susan asked Trinity if she would like to go for a walk with her. There was a café just down the street in the hospital compound. Trinity followed her, numb to the cold. Two men walked either side of her. Susan seemed to know them. She wondered why until Susan told her that they were from the bank.

“They should be with Ms. Romanova, not me.” Trinity protested.

Susan said, “There are two men with her, as well. The hospital allowed us to be on the floor once we were discreet.”

“OK” she said.

Trinity looked around, taking note of how busy the hospital was. It was very different from the floor where Tasha was. In fact, she realized that she hadn’t seen anyone besides medical staff on the floor since the day when Tasha was admitted. They walked around the hospital for about an hour until Trinity was called by the surgeon when the operation was finished.

He said, “We removed a considerable number of clots, but still some residual effect would be evident. We expect her to be paralyzed on her right side. However, with physiotherapy, she could recover most of her mobility.

Trinity dashed back to the ICU. She sat at Tasha’s bedside as she watched the Nurses suction her endo-tracheal tube, turn her over, massage pressure points, adjust the pressure stockings on her, put up more medication in her IV, put enteral liquid through her feeding tube. There was so much the Nurses, Therapists and Doctors were doing. She felt useless.

Tasha was getting five star care, no doubt about it. She was a wealthy woman and the bank must have had some benefaction there, but when Mr. Ponsby called to check on them he sounded genuinely sincere. He asked Trinity to give him a suitable time when he could visit. Trinity assured him that she would, hopefully, very shortly. Then Nica called.

“Aunt Janice can’t come.” she told Trinity. “We are in Boulder at the Jetport. I called her to tell her that we are in Boulder and are on the way. She went to see a physician because she had a fever. The Doctor told her that she can’t travel because she has the Measles. She is so upset. Should we go to visit her?”

“I don’t think you should, that’s contagious. Let me ask Tasha’s physician who is here now. Hold on a sec…….Tasha’s mother just found out she has the Measles. My daughter flew there to bring her to London. Can she go visit her before they fly back out?”

Thinking analytically, he said, “I’m afraid not. We don’t want to increase the risks with Ms. Romanova.”

“Baby, they say no. Tell her the doctor’s advise no. Let her know that we will keep her updated with everything. Once she’s over the Measles we can have her flown here. I’ll call her in a little bit myself. It’s disappointing. Tasha would be upset.”

They reboarded the Aurora and flew away into the night at one am headed for London. Nica told Uncle Fred to take the master bed. He was a tall man and suffered from osteoarthritis.

She knew that sleeping in one of the smaller beds in one of the other bedrooms would be difficult for him. She settled into one herself. She was wearied. They both were. They slept straight through to London.

Trinity called Mr. Ponsby the next day to advise him of Tasha’s condition.

“May I come for a visit?” he asked.

“I would appreciate that.” she told him.

He came later that evening and sat next to Trinity at her bedside. Trinity told him of her condition, excluding the part about her being inter sexed. He started to speak to Tasha and then stopped. He looked at Trinity for permission.

“She’ll hear you. She would like that.” she told him.

He asked Trinity, “Do you mind if I read a Psalm and a passage from the book of Job?”

Trinity was surprised at the request.

“You are a believer!?” she asked, not taking umbrage.

“Yes.”

He pulled his chair in close. He held both Tasha’s and Trinity’s hands.

He prayed, “Father God, Your Word says the prayer of faith shall heal the sick. We come to You today in faith asking that you heal Ms. Ovsianico from every sickness, disease and illness. We receive our healing by faith. In Jesus name Amen.”

“The Lord is merciful. Amen.” said Trinity.

Then he pulled out a small bible and began to read. Trinity could not believe what she was hearing, seeing and feeling. She would not have believed that this man was a man of faith. She knew that Tasha would have appreciated this. She fell back in the chair and surrendered her burden in that moment. His presence was a release.

After a while he said, “I’d like to visit Ms. Romanova again.”

“That would be good.” she told him.

When he got up and started towards the door, Trinity got up, as well, to thank him for visiting. She put out her hand in a gesture of gratefulness. He took it, again, and covered it with both of his. Again, she felt his warmth and care. She liked his touch.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” he said. “Remember the carpet in the vault that you asked Susan to have cleaned because Ms. Ovsianico was sick on it. Well, the cleaners refused to touch it. It turns out that it is an extremely rare and valuable Isfahan silk rug from Iran, or Persia as it was known then. It is believed to have been woven between 1885 and 1915, the date when it was installed in the vault. I am told that the craftsmanship is exceptional, museum quality and it is in the best condition that has been seen.”

“Well, I am not surprised. It hasn’t seen the light of day nor has anyone walked on it in nearly a century.” she said.

“It will need to be properly cleaned and only a restorer in a museum or college setting can do that. However, I did not want to do that without your approval. We have also taken photographs of it for your records.”

“Thank you very much. If you don’t mind, could you let me know the cost so that I can arrange for payment right away?”

After he left she became aware of the monitors, again. Each machine had its own sound. The ventilator hissed. The motor on the bed and on the pressurized leg sleeves constantly purred. There were so many lines connected to Tasha that it looked like someone sprayed Silly String on and around her.

Trinity read to her, too, from the online sites of The New Yorker, The Miami Herald, The London Times, The Nassau Guardian, The Daily Mail, Time, Newsweek, Vogue, Runner’s World, Marie Claire, Dr. Zhivago, every thing that she could find. She even threatened to read her the latest news on Mariah Carey. She put her laptop down, looked at Tasha then went close to her ear.

She said, “Tasha, please wake up. You have so many things to do. Don’t you want to finish your case? Everyone has been emailing you. I tried to answer some as best as I could, but there is so much. When you wake up we can go home and you can go in the sea behind The Reef. We can go to the Exumas and Inagua on The Pearl. Uncle Fred and Nica are on the way, they should be here, soon”.

“Do you want Nica to see you like this? She loves you so much. Remember when you held her little body when she was christened? She screamed and hollered when I brought her into the church, but the minute I put her in your arms, she fell right to sleep and slept throughout the service. You held her all of that day. You were there again for her Confirmation. You were there for everything.”

“You are such an awesome godmother to her, now. You must have been her Mother before. I thank you for every moment that you have had with her. In so many ways, she is more like you than me. She is super intelligent and gifted. You know that. You have to be at her graduation. You have to see her get married. You have to see her children. Who will she turn to when she is mad at me?”

Trinity had always encouraged Nica to be close with Tasha because she could not have any children of her own.

“Tasha, you can’t go, now. Please wake up.” she begged.

She finally broke down crying. Long deep sobs of sadness and impending loss. She fell asleep in the chair at Tasha’s bedside even though the PAs had arranged a room and bed for her on just a few rooms away. When she woke Susan took her to the room. Earlier, she went to the hotel and brought some clothes out of the suitcases that were still in the suite. Trinity appreciated that Susan organized that for her. She felt so drained. She went to the bathroom to shower, staying there for about half an hour. Susan had arranged food for Trinity, but she could not eat.

“Ask the other staff members to come to eat. They must be hungry, too.”

Susan, who was sitting out by the television, raised her head up from her iPad. She read aloud to Trinity the text stating that Uncle Fred and Nica were being picked up from the airport by Andy and they were on the way to the hospital. Another bank employee took their luggage to the hotel to check them in.

The minutes continued to slowly tick away. Trinity found a magazine and started reading to Tasha, again.

Then, she heard, “Mum”.

There was her baby. Nica hugged her very tightly. Uncle Fred had his fedora in his hands. He hugged her, too.

Nica was shocked to see Tasha like that. She went over to the bed, kissed her godmother and held her hand. Uncle Fred’s eyes were very bloodshot and moist.

Nica asked, “Mum. May I speak to Goddie alone, please?”

They left Nica with her in the room. Trinity took Uncle Fred to the same café that she went to before in the hospital compound. They sat down with coffee. The PAs sat at a table nearby.

Uncle Fred asked, “Do you know those guys?”

Trinity said, “They came with the bank account.”

Uncle Fred looked at her quizzically.

“I’ll explain later.” she answered.

“What are the Doctors saying?”

“They removed the clots from the left side of her brain. They believe that they formed as a complication of the chemotherapy she had two months ago. She was also severely anemic. She and I have the same blood type so I was able to donate some blood. I will ask Nica to donate some, as well. If any more is needed, after that, would you mind donating, too?”

“Not at all. I will do anything that I can to help her.”

Trinity started to cry and her shoulders trembled.

“You’re tired. It’s going to be a long struggle, but we’ll take her home.”

“Will we, Uncle Fred? Will we?”

“Yes. We will.”

Trinity pulled herself together and after they had some coffee and sandwiches, Trinity remarked that she didn’t realize how hungry she was. Uncle Fred asked if they could walk for a while. They got up and the PAs jumped up, as well. They walked discreetly behind. Uncle Fred spotted a bench in the park of the hospital compound.

“Come,” he said to Trinity, “let’s pray”.

Frederick had to suppress his beliefs when he worked for the Duke. Yes, the Duke was the ex-King Edward VIII, head of the English Church, the Anglican Church, but he didn’t really believe. He never heard or saw the Duke or Duchess pray or speak of any belief. The Duke was raised to believe that there was no one above him, not even God. They had to play that part, and that’s all it was, role playing to justify their lofty self absorbed existence.

He said, “Dear Father, we ask your continued mercy on our sister, Tasha. Her body is weak and you have sent her help by providing the physicians, the nurses, medicine and the hospital. We can only have faith that you will heal her completely. She is far from home and we ask you to let us take her back healthy, strong and grateful for your love. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

They sat silently with Uncle Fred’s arm around her. Trinity felt comforted. They looked around. There were cyclers, mothers pushing prams, policemen, a horse and rider, couples sitting on the grass, people going to and from work. It reminded them of the heartbreaking fact that life goes on. They hoped, though, that life would go on with Tasha back with her family.

Trinity’s phone rang. Tasha was alert and responding.

“Come Uncle Fred, she’s awake.” she happily exclaimed.

She got up to run, but she forgot that Uncle Fred was getting on in age and moved a little more slowly.

He said to Trinity, “Wait, she will be OK. We are going to get there.”

Trinity laughed, “Sorry.”

She put her arm through his and they walked slowly back.

Tasha was still on the ventilator, but she was coughing and moving her eyes as directed. Nica was draped over her torso. Tasha’s hand was on her head. Trinity was so happy that Tasha was able to focus her eyes on her. Her physician said that if she continued on that path she would start weaning her off of the ventilator, starting that evening.

Uncle Fred said, “Praise God”.

Trinity noticed that there were tears coming from Tasha’s eyes. She dried them.

“Sorry. We had to do all this because you were really sick. We can’t wait to take you home, though. Everyone sent their love.”

Tasha nodded. Trinity held both of her hands. The right hand was flaccid, but her left hand that she wrote with, was warm and responsive. Tasha was unable to speak yet, but she squeezed Trinity’s hand hard.

The days passed. When it was confirmed that Tasha’s mother was over the measles and she was no longer contagious Trinity asked Uncle Fred a favour.

“Can you take The Aurora back to Colorado for Janice and take her to the island? I’ll send a PA with you. The Reef needs to be outfitted for her return. I need you and Aunt Janice to organize that for her, please.”

Uncle Fred called Trinity just as they were about to take off from Stanstead Airport. Captain Issam was a seasoned pro, but he was flying whistle stop. During the flight, his co-Pilot Daniel Ek came out to stretch and talk to the Cabin Assistant, Ericka. There was also a third Pilot, Captain Richard Bain so that they could switch around when on the long haul.

Uncle Fred went in the cockpit. He liked Captain Issam. He was always very professional, but friendly and warm, too.

“How are you holding up, Issam?”

“Oh……I could eat a horse shoe right about now.”

“Why don’t you.…..I was just about to say..…pullover and come eat with us?”

“Thanks. I’ll just park right next to that cloud over there, then.”

Uncle Fred’s broad shoulders shook with laughter, more than they had done in a while.

“I deserved that one.” he said.

“Besides, you are flying just as much as I am.” replied Captain Issam.

“Yes, but I don’t have to be as alert.”

When Captain Ek returned to the cockpit, Issam left and sat down with Uncle Fred. Ericka put the dinner service on the table which had a short vase of white roses in the middle.

“This looks good Issam. It’s not the horse shoe that you wanted, though.”

Captain Issam asked, “Are you French? I saw you reading a book in French. Most of the time, you don’t speak with an accent, but I heard one when you were on your cell, earlier. Are you fluent?”

“Yes, but people who are truly fluent in different languages really don’t speak with an accent in any one of them. I didn’t learn it until my early twenties and then I had no other choice because my employers lived in France.”

By habit, he didn’t speak to anyone about working for the Duke because it inevitably caused curiosity. Changing the subject, he asked Issam how he came about to work for Tasha.

“When I was flying for Aviation Works I flew Tasha on many occasions, she used to specifically ask for me when she had the choice. One day the cabin assistant told me that it was her birthday, so I asked her to come in the cockpit. It blew her away. Few people have seen the world from that perspective and she could not believe the wonder of it. Shoots, I still can’t believe the wonder of it and I have been flying almost all of my life.”

He continued, “She decided to buy this one just before she got sick last year. She asked if I would consider leaving the company to fly for her. I didn’t expect that she would ask me to. She said she couldn’t believe she would need her own, but she was flying so much, it was more convenient.”

“Now that I think about it, you must have been the Captain who was helping her decide on which one to get?” added Uncle Fred.

“She said I should pick out the one that I would like to fly, myself, with my family on board.”

“That makes sense to me.” Uncle Fred said, as he ran his fingers over the white tablecloth in front of him.

“She named her ‘The Aurora’. I liked that.”

Fred learned that you never ask a person about their personal life, so he didn’t ask Captain Issam about his family.

But, Issam volunteered, “My wife and I divorced two years ago. I don’t have any children. Flying is hard on a family. Then someone wonderful entered my life.”

Uncle Fred smiled and nodded knowingly. “Yes.” he affirmed.

They finished eating and over coffee, Uncle Fred said, “You know the stupid thing that people say, ‘If you have to ask the price you can’t afford it.’, but how much did this cost?”

“Well, one absolute must from Tasha was that, because she was tall, she didn’t want a ‘rinky-dink’ jet. And she needed a lot of room and jet power to take all of her equipment, plus her technical assistant and personal assistant. And, the plane had to be her hotel. ”

“So, this was the one. It ticked all of the boxes. She loves this plane. Anyway, this is a Boeing 747. Brand new, custom built and decorated like this one; with Corinthian leather seats, high gloss wood cabinetry with kitchen, dining and lounge areas, 2 private double bed bedroom suites and 2 single suits, plus crew sleeping quarters for 4 and pilot sleeping quarters for 2, custom made carpets throughout, marble bathrooms with showers and an air missile avoidance system, goes for about ninety five million dollars. Plus, you have to add in the cost of jet fuel, jetport facility fees, insurance, training, maintaining, safety regulations, staff and other things. But, if you are travelling a lot, as she and the executives of the Diamond Group have to do, then it is cheap for the price.”

He continued, “But, we have been in and out of Stanstead so much we had to reserve hangar space. That is expensive because it is not our home port. We don’t have a service and rental agreement there. We were only going to stay four days then go back to New York for a scheduled service, but Ms. Ovsianico got sick.”

Every one fell quiet. Issam looked forlornly out of the window into the distance.

“Ericka, Ek and I go to see her the minute we come in, but I wish that I could visit more. With all of these legs that we have to do, it is difficult.

“By the way,” Uncle Fred said, “Trinity told me that she is doing much better. They have already weaned her off the ventilator. She may come home, very soon. She thought that you would like to know that.”

He gathered himself and said, “Thank You”.

Ericka sat down next to Captain Issam.

“I’ll be so happy when she’s home. I’ll cook her favourite food until it comes out of her ears.”

They all were quiet for a while. The Captains and Ericka were going to stay on board to rest while Uncle Fred and Susan went for Janice. She took a moment to update Uncle Fred then Captain Issam went back to the cockpit.

After a shower, Uncle Fred settled in the lounge chair in the bedroom. He looked out of the window thinking about Tasha and the role that he was playing for her at his age. He was used to the trappings of the rich. Few people had the trappings more than the former King of England. It wasn’t his, but he got some benefits from it. He got to see the world and experience many different cultures. For him, that was important, but he still regretted not marrying and having a family of his own.

He picked up the Time magazine that was in the stack near to the chair. He started to read, but he was exhausted. He fell asleep with the magazine on his chest. About an hour out of Colorado Issam came out of the cockpit.

“How’s Fred doing, Ericka?” he asked.

“He fell asleep in the chair instead of the bed. I didn’t have the heart to wake him. He’s been asleep since you last came out to eat. When should I wake him?” she asked.

“Let him sleep a little longer. He has to leave the airport to pick up Janice.”

Tasha Recovers

Tasha continued to improve, but by the third day after she awoke, it was evident that, as expected and forewarned she had suffered paralysis on her right side. The physiotherapists had her walking with assistance, using a frame, but it didn’t look good. Her physician said that it was possible that Tasha might have to use a wheelchair for mobility for the rest of her life. For Tasha, who was such an athletic person, this was devastating.

After the walk, the physiotherapists put Tasha in the bedside chair. Being able to walk, even though with assistance, and sit were milestones in Tasha’s recovery and it made Trinity happy. There were going to be days of grueling physiotherapy and speech therapy, as well as, ongoing treatment for her cancer, but she knew that Tasha could do it.

There were concerns about her chemotherapy, too. The physician contacted Tasha’s physician in New York and they proposed a plan for her care. He was optimistic that she could possibly be discharged from the hospital within the following four days. When Trinity knew that Tasha was on the way to being discharged she allowed herself the release of the sadness that she was carrying.

“You are strong, Tasha. I know how determined you are. Don’t worry about mobility right now. Just keep working your muscles and it will come.” Trinity told her.

Trinity told her what happened. Tasha wrote that she didn’t remember much. Trinity also told her about the antique rug on the vault’s floor that she vomited on.

“Really, where is it?” she wrote to Trinity.

“George said that The British Museum said that it shouldn’t be left with the vomit on it as it would corrode the fibers. I gave him permission to have the rug cleaned. The museum said that they would clean it and asked if they could display the rug for one year. I told them to go ahead with the cleaning and send a report, but I had to speak with ‘you’ first about allowing it to be displayed. They don’t know the owner of the rug. They think it is the Bank of Britannia. Here are the photos that George sent.”

“George?” she wrote. “It used to be Mr. Ponsby. Now, George?”

“Well….I mean….I can’t keep saying Mr. Ponsby. He visited three times and called a lot. He was very comforting.” Trinity stammered.

“Yeah…I got it.” Tash wrote.

Trinity asked her, “Do you want to stay in London, go back to New York or go to the Island for the rest of your care?”

Tasha wrote, ‘Back to the Island’.

“I thought that you would say that.” Trinity told her. “Uncle Fred went to Boulder to get Aunt Janice and they are waiting for you at home.”

With the support of her physicians both in London and New York, arrangements were made to go back to the Island and continue care with Dr. Ramsay (the Neurologist) and Dr. Bello (the Oncologist). Trinity called George.

“I am so grateful for your help. Thank you for all of the arrangements that you made with the hospital. Susan and Andy were wonderful. Without them I do not know how I would have coped. As soon as she can, I know that Tasha would want to thank you herself. She is speaking much better, every day.”

“I am glad that she is much better. I will continue to pray for her.” he said.

“Oh! The phone, I’ll give it to Susan.”

“No. Mrs. Paget, please keep it. You can call me at anytime and I can use it to contact you for updates, if you don’t mind?”

“Thank you.”

She wrote thank you notes to everyone. She gave each PA and Nurse a beautiful Montblanc pen. Finally, they left London on a medical flight. As they were lifting off, she looked at Tasha who, though still frail, looked much better than expected.

Tasha put her hand on Trinity’s arm. “Thank You.” she said.

Trinity smiled and said, “You’re welcome.”

As Enya’s ‘Father in Heaven’, one of Tasha’s favourite pieces of music, played on the sound system they both closed their eyes and slept over the Atlantic Ocean. Tasha dreamt of her love. Trinity dreamt of hers.

Tasha Goes Home

The day that she was brought home was, naturally, an emotional one for Tasha. On approach to the Island, Tasha’s heart beat fast. She was anxious, but very happy. She stared out of the window and watched as the black ocean below gradually gave way to navy blue, then sapphire then cerulean then azure then deep turquoise then aquamarine then cool mint then white spray. On every return trip to the Island, she was always able to see The Reef on the approach to the airport. This time she saw something else, too.

“T, look.” she said, pointing out of the window.

Spelled out in driftwood on the beach at the back of The Reef were the words, “Love brought you home, Tasha.”

“I thought that I would never come back.” she confessed, haltingly and emotionally.

Captain Issam and Uncle Fred met them in the hangar at the airport, both enveloping Tasha in kisses.

Fred asked, “Comment vas-tu chéri? Je suis tellement heureux que vous êtes chez vous. (How are you, Darling? I am so happy that you are home.)”

“Personne ne pourrait être plus heureux que moi. (No one could be happier than me.” she answered, slowly, still suffering from the damage, to the speech centers of her brain, caused by the stroke.

“Issam, doesn’t she look beautiful?”

“She is beautiful,” he answered, joyfully.

“Have you been writing lately?” she asked Issam.

“Yes.” he said with a happy grin.

“Thank you.” she said, as she welled up with emotion.

On the car ride home she rolled down the window and let the cool breeze blow in her face and hair. She could smell the wild sweet Jasmine and Honeysuckle and the salty ocean. The last rays of a golden sunset made her squint, but she had so longed to feel that sun on her face, again and now that she was getting it, she couldn’t get enough. She closed her eyes and let the warmth of the last slivers of sun warm her face.

As the driver entered The Reef and pulled into the driveway, Aunt Janice, Nica, Jase, Captain Bain and Ericka, along with her household staff, waved to her from the wooden garden steps at the entrance at the back of the house. They swarmed the car and as soon as it stopped, Janice opened the back door and took hold of Tasha, covering her with kisses and hugs for a long time.

“Lamb, are you OK? I love you so much and I missed you.”

“I love you, too, Mama. Don’t cry.” Tasha told her as she wiped away her tears.

Tasha held on to her mother like she had always done, throughout her life. Her hugs were still comforting and calming.”

After a while, Uncle Fred said, “Come on now, Janice. Let’s get her in the house.”

“God knows that I am so grateful to have her back.” Janice said to Nica. “OK every one, let her get out of the car, now.”

Janice stood to the side, dabbing her eyes and nose with a handkerchief. The driver took the wheelchair out of the trunk and moved it to the open car door.

“No thanks, I want to walk into the house.”

So, he put the chair in the hallway. Captain Issam offered his arm to steady her. She put her arm through his and slowly they made their way towards the door. Seeing that, for the first time, Tasha could barely walk with assistance, drove home to each one of them how sick she was. It was a shock to them all, who had known Tasha to be so athletic, so body aware, so on form. Now she looked spastic. She struggled to move her right leg. Trinity had seen her walk much better than this before, but the flight must have exhausted her.

“I may need that chair, after all,” she said, half ashamed.

Captain Issam said, “No you don’t.” and swooped her up in his arms.

She squealed in delight as he bore her over the threshold. She was still laughing when he carried her outside onto the empty beach, whose minute coral pieces and sea glass twinkled in the sun.

Trinity was moved to hear Tasha so happy. She got out of the car, too, but she was forgotten by everyone in their excitement to see Tasha. To get everyone’s attention, before they went in the house, she said, “Yoo Hoo, Hi!, Hey!, it’s me, Trinity. I’m over here.”

She pointed to herself, with both arms raised above her head. Everyone started laughing and they turned around. They lingered behind to greet her, one by one.

“Good job, Trinity.” said Captain Bain.

“You did well.” said Ericka.

“She couldn’t have done it without you.” said Jase.

As the others waited with her, Aunt Janice came over to Trinity, and held her face in her hands.

“From the bottom of my heart, I thank you.” she told Trinity. “I am so grateful for you. I will ask the Lord to bless you for all of your days. I love you.” she told her after she wrapped her arms around her.

“Thanks, Aunt Janice. She would have done the same for me.”

Aunt Janice took Trinity’s arm in hers and they led the others. Trinity stepped up on the door sill then looked down.

“We’re going to have to have some of these converted for wheelchair access. I wonder if Uncle Fred realized that.”

“Yes. The contractor is coming tomorrow.” Aunt Janice said. “Fred is wonderful. He has thought of everything. Nothing is impossible for him. He is so calm and reassuring. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

“I’m glad that he was here for you.” Trinity said, as she looked at Janice sideways, leaning away from her.

“Where did they go?” asked Uncle Fred.

“Looks like Captain Issam carried her on the beach.” said Ericka.

“OK, let’s give her a while to get her bearings then we can call them in for dinner.” said Uncle Fred.

When dinner was ready they called Tasha and Issam to the table. Then they closed the door and enjoyed each other’s company.

Later that night, after dinner, after Janice and Trinity bathed her, Trinity went to bed early. Janice took a pair of anti-embolism stockings from the cedar draw where others were lined up in precision fashion. She put them on Tasha’s legs. Janice talked about this and that.

“When I had recovered from the measles and Fred came for me, I was so happy because he told me that you were on your way to coming home. He was very comforting. He kept my spirits up and when my resolve faltered, he prayed with me. He made me feel…….I don’t know the right word…..…he made me feel……..hopeful. He helped me keep it together.”

“Yeah, Mama?” Tasha said as she, too, looked at Janice sideways and chuckled.

Later, as she watched the news, through the open glass doors leading to the balcony outside of her bedroom, she could hear the waves lapping onto the beach. She saw a small flash of illuminating lightning and could smell the rain ions in the air. It was so quiet except for the pitter-patter of a million soft droplets hitting the water. She always thought that rain sounded like crinkled glassine. And, there was nothing in the world that soothed her to sleep better than falling rain. She closed her eyes and slept very well that night.

The following morning, Trinity went into Tasha’s bedroom and gently woke her up by rubbing her back. For an instant Tasha thought that it was one of the nurses massaging her pressure points, but when she heard not only Trinity’s voice, but her mother’s, as well, she remembered that she was home. After Trinity helped her to bathe and dress, she took Tasha down the elevator to the kitchen to have breakfast. Janice kissed her.

“Good Morning, Honey.” she said. “What do you want to eat?”

After they all ate a breakfast of Eggs Benedict, thick waffles and fruit, Fred told her what they did to get the compound ready.

“The Nurses, Physiotherapists and Speech Pathologists are scheduled to start your therapy this afternoon. So you have some busy days to look forward to.”

The Physiotherapist, Evan, took over after lunch. The first thing that Tasha wanted to do was to go in the ocean, but Evan, who was certified in water therapy, said that he had to see how she coped in the shallow end of the pool first before he could allow that. Tasha understood why. Even in the shallow water near to the shore, the sea currents were always changing and footing was not sure. A person who had balance and mobility problems could find themselves in trouble very quickly and whoever was with her may not be able to support her.

After her therapy sessions, even though she had lost her hair as a result of the chemotherapy, it had already grown back and was longer that she usually liked, so she went down to the salon where the hairdresser washed and cut it and the esthetician gave her a facial and a massage, as well as, a manicure and a pedicure.

While being pampered, Tasha looked at the river of water that ran from the pool outside and underneath the glass floor of the living and entertainment rooms. She used to be able to hold her breath and swim underwater from inside to outside. She wondered if she would ever be able to do that again.

“Now, I feel like a human, again.” she said to Trinity and Janice.

“Looks like you have a date!” Trinity said, smiling

“Yes!” she said.

The next week, since the Physiotherapist was not there, Nica went in the pool with her, instead. Even though she had to wear a life jacket, she loved those times and she got much stronger. When Evan was back, Tasha had improved so much that he and Nica set up lounge chairs at the tide line on the beach and surprised Tasha by letting her sit there with her feet in the water. It became one of her favourite things to do.

From the bounty of The Reef, Nica would peel for her fruits of every kind; the vanilla flavoured anona custard apples; brown sugar flavoured sapodillas; big and small mangoes; white, orange and pink guavas; or any other seasonal fruit, along with the juice of green coconuts just taken down, pried open by the yardman and sipped through big straws.

Sometimes they sat quietly, plaiting strips of the Silver Palm into table placemats or runners or floor coverings, but this time they were weaving whole fronds of the palm tree to take to church on Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Easter, to represent the palm branches that were scattered in front of Jesus as he rode into Jerusalem. Janice’s old housekeeper taught Tasha how to and she taught Nica. One time, when they were coming out of the water, though, as the sun was setting, Tasha accidentally dropped the palm frond that she was weaving. She reached down to pick it up and before Nica could steady her, an outgoing wave managed to pull them down. Nica thought that she may have hurt herself, but Tasha could not stop laughing. She thought that it was great fun.

While Nica and Tasha were on the beach, Jase found Trinity in the gym. He sat on the bench while she was walked on the treadmill.

“Hey, Jase. What’s up?”

“I love Nica very much. I would like to ask her to marry me when we go to Mayaguana, next week.” he said, opening the small jewel box to show her the ring. “Do I have your permission?”

“Of course you do, Jase. I know that she will be very happy.”

Trinity said nothing to anyone else. She and Jase wanted Tasha and Aunt Janice to be surprised with the good news. On the day that she knew that he would propose her anxiety level was elevated. She loved Jase and got to know him well over the five years that he and Nica dated, but that was still her daughter, her only child, and this was a big moment in her life.

Nica had forgotten to tell Trinity that Evan said he would take Tasha to the beach and stay with her for a while.

So, Trinity told her, “I’ll go with you in the pool, but you know that I am not going on the sand.”

Tasha looked very disappointed. Later, not knowing that Evan came, Trinity came out on the deck wearing a pair of dive booties, a long sleeve turtleneck jumper, long pants and gloves. Worst of all, she was also wearing Janice’s bee keeper’s hat and veil. She was very anxious. The thought of Nica marrying and leaving her exasperated her phobia of the sand.

“Are you ready to go on the beach?” Trinity asked, annoyed.

Tasha looked at Evan.

“Are you for real?” she asked Trinity. “You look ridiculous.”

“Shut up.” commanded Trinity, brusquely.

As they walked down to the water, Tasha and Evan tried their hardest not to laugh.

Sitting on the beach, Trinity was oblivious to them as she flicked away, with a small towel, any grain of sand that touched her.

“Go. Go. You are just torturing yourself.” Tasha told her.

Trinity didn’t have to be told twice.

“Bye!” she said as she got up.

Tasha and Evan waited until Trinity was out of earshot then they cracked. They both had the deep-throat-opening-uvula-baring-laugh-that-caused-your-eyes-to-shut, laugh.

When Nica and Jase returned, Nica put out her left hand to show Tasha the ring.

“Do I get to help you plan the wedding?” Tasha asked.

“Of course, Goddie. I can’t do it without you.”

Trinity looked on as Nica draped her arms around the back of Tasha’s chair. She loved to see them together and she smiled.

Uncle Fred proved to be worth his weight in gold. He had to catalogue all of the jewels, artwork and furniture so he travelled a lot. His experience with the Duke and Duchess gave him access to information that others may not have gotten. He met with museum curators, art historians, furniture makers and jewelers. When he was on the Island, Fred met with Tasha almost everyday and became a close confidante to her. They told each other stories of jewels and artwork and prayed. They prayed a lot. They spoke in French. And, they both loved to watch baseball, while eating from bowls of popcorn and peanuts.

Ericka visited every Saturday morning, bringing Tasha the Sheep Tongue Souse that she loved. Then she sat and played cards with her on the deck. Tasha and Captain Issam also met every day to discuss the Aurora; the flight schedule for the consultants, the service schedule or fuel costs. Tasha particularly enjoyed these visits because she loved her Jet. The times when Captain Issam took her out to the jet, she came back renewed and refreshed.

Trinity, Aunt Janice or Uncle Fred and a body guard very frequently had to travel to take possession of a recovered item. One trip to New York involved taking possession of three very prominent pieces from separate auction houses. Tasha insisted that she was going because she also wanted to spend some time at the townhouse. Trinity understood why.

Tasha resumed her grueling chemotherapy schedule and Trinity kept meticulous notes of her care plan. She made her appointments and made sure she had her lab tests on time. The medication that she was given was recorded and that and the Nurse’s log were reviewed daily by Trinity.

One of the hardest things for Tasha was that she could not ride her horses, a bay filly named Carmen and a chestnut filly named Miranda. They were stabled at Camperdown Farms. Before she became ill she rode almost every day. Trinity took a few lessons when she was a young girl, but when she was thrown of the horse she refused to get back on, no matter how hard Tasha begged her. Tasha gave the horses to Bernard ‘Benny’ Jean-Charles who was a 14 year old student at one of the government schools. He used to come with his father to clean the stables. On the days when he wasn’t working at the stables, his father, Yonel, maintained the yard at Trinity’s house.

Benny was taught to ride by one of the owners at Camperdown Farms after she saw how natural he was with the horses. Actually, he was very good. Tasha paid for his training and sent him to St. George’s School. He entered competitions as much as he was allowed to within the school term schedule and Janice and Tasha attended most of them. As he got better he thought of attending Florida International University which had an equestrian program and he was adamant that he would compete in the Olympics. Everyone believed him.

Benny’s father, Yonel, came from Haiti fifteen years prior. He was a Chemistry student at the University of Haiti in Port-au-Prince. He could not further his education because he needed a scholarship and without assistance for over two years, he decided to leave in 1988. Haiti was formerly the French colony of Saint-Domingue. The Haitian Revolution, a slave revolt between 1791 and 1804, culminated in the elimination of slavery there and the founding of the Republic of Haiti.

Haiti became known for its brutality, deep poverty, zombies, witch doctors and the dreaded Ton-Ton Macoute paramilitary unit started by the President, François Duvalier, better known as ‘Papa Doc’ who carried out executions, torture and other human rights violations to enforce his stranglehold on the people of Haiti. His son, Jean-Claude Duvalier, better known as ‘Baby Doc’, who inherited the throne from his father was no better.

Yonel left on a boat along with twenty-nine other Haitians. He scrapped together every dollar that he could and gave it to the captain of the boat to take him to Florida where, he was told, other Haitians would be waiting to take them to safety and cloak and protect them until they could buy his ‘papers’.

They were not taken to Florida. The captain let them off in the waters of the Bahamas, near a cay that was uninhabitable. He told them to jump and swim to shore. Yonel was warned about that and he refused to get off. He and the other migrants overpowered the boat captain and under threat of life forced him and his crew to navigate to the capital. Before they neared any land, the boat sank, dragging down twenty one migrants with it. A few, like him, managed to keep afloat. He dog paddled his way towards a light that he saw far in the distance. He was lucky he made it to shore. He avoided being eaten by sharks only because they were already distracted by the other migrants in the water.

Yonel had no idea how he was going to find help. He didn’t know where he was and he spoke no English. He came out of the water exhausted and his clothes shredded by the razor sharp coral and rocks on the reef. Determined, he pulled himself onto the shore and lay hidden in seaweed.

A labourer, sitting on his haunch as he weeded the grass of his employer, saw him early the next morning. After waiting for him to leave the property, the labourer walked down to the beach and threw a water bottle and a plantain at Yonel then returned to his work. He kept a lookout for any movement from him as he weeded and trimmed trees. He hoped that no one else saw Yonel and called the Police or the Immigration office because, like Yonel, he was also there illegally. Finally, he saw Yonel raise his head. Later that evening, a group of Haitians came down to the water and carried him away to ‘the Mud’; a community of Haitians made up of tin and wood buildings built barely inches from each other where Tuberculosis, HIV and worms were rampant.

Tasha loved to fish. On clear days she, Nica, Uncle Fred and Aunt Janice went out on ‘The Pearl’. Captain Issam, Captain Bain or Captain Ek frequently went along. From the Pearl, they took the Corsair Hardtop to a beach on one of the cays and grilled the fish that they caught. Someone always found conchs and whelks, so a batch of freshly made salad was very often made. Sometimes iguanas came close by and they fed them bananas and apples.

Trinity always stayed on the yacht. She updated her diary, got together with the yacht’s staff and did whatever she could to make Tasha’s life easier and better. She wrote one day. October 8th. She is much stronger today. The physiotherapist increased leg weights to 6 pounds on the left and 4 pounds on the right. She hasn’t had any diarrhea today and she says that she is felling better. She wants another haircut. She said it is still too long. She talked for a very long time with a colleague. Have to thank him because she liked that very much. Her appetite remains good.

Uncle Fred or Captain Issam took her for drives around the Island, which she loved and looked forward to. Once in a while they let her drive when they were on a long stretch on the road away from the city center. On one of these drives with captain Issam, she made him stop at the Fish Fry for Crack Conch and a Kalik which she had not had in a long time. They stayed until it started to get dark and were listening to a small live band that just started their set. Trinity called Tasha on her cell.

“Where are you guys?” she asked.

“On the way home.” replied Tasha.

“Yeah. OK. Then wave to Giselle in the green shirt waving at you from the balcony. She just sent Ericka a picture to show that you were up and about. Ericka just called me to say how happy she was for you.”

“Oh Shit, Issam. That’s Ericka’s daughter, Giselle, up there. We got put on blast…..Hi Giselle.” she said as she waved to her.

Trinity called Issam on his phone.

“It’s OK to keep her out for a while. Just don’t let her drink too many beers, though. She can drink you under the table.” Trinity told him.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” he said, laughing.

“That is neither a rebuke nor a challenge.” Trinity said, laughing, “She is taking medication.”

“OK, I’ll take care of her.” he said, ending the call.

“Let me guess……..Trinity!”

“She said not to bring you home drunk.”

“What?……….No, she didn’t.”

“Since she is concerned, and she is right, we’ll only have four bottles each and split a fifth. I mean, that’s just like an appetizer.”

Tasha laughed her head off. Issam was only playing though. He brought her home after the band finished. They only had two beers each.

Trinity could not fault her. She needed to get out and she seemed to have an extra pep about her as Nica’s graduation day neared. Nica was to receive her Bachelors Degree in Accounting and Finance and was named Valedictorian of her class. She kept the news as a surprise for Trinity, but she told Tasha and made her promise not to tell. On the day of her graduation, while Trinity was reading the program, Tasha looked over at Uncle Fred. She gave him a sly smile and a nod. When Trinity saw Nica’s name as Valedictorian she looked at Tasha then showed it to Uncle Fred.

He said, “That’s our girl”.

“You both knew about this?” she bawled.

When Nica stepped up to the podium, Trinity held Uncle Fred’s hand so tightly he had to peel away her fingers. She was so excited she didn’t even realize it. Goddie held a handkerchief to her face trying to fight back her own tears. Nica’s speech was flawless and mature. She asked and answered the question, ‘What more can you do if you have already been given the world?’

On the following day, in Vermont, they gathered at the Grand Duchess’ grey and black granite walled mausoleum. The restoration work that Tasha had commissioned turned out tastefully. A grey granite rise was added which went around all four corners to replace the irreparably damaged old step pieces. An additional piece was added to allow access into the vault with its inlaid granite floor. The rusted wrought iron rails were sanded, rust treated and repainted and a new majestic fence was placed all around to prevent further damage and theft of the plant borders which were new features added by Tasha.

The Grand Duchess was a great hobby botanist and in honour of that, a local landscaper was employed to plant and maintain the greenery around the mausoleum. Each month, they had to send Tasha a video of the work that they had carried out, as well as, provide a list of seasonal plants that she had to approve for the following rotations. As they approached the mausoleum they were awed by the first planting of crimson Coleus, which Tasha chose to represent the blood of Jesus. The next planting was to be Chamomile, the state plant of Russia.

It was while she was on a work assignment in Finland, before she was hospitalized in London, that Tasha heard from news reports that the governments of Denmark and Russia had agreed that the remains of her great-great-Grandmother, The Grand Duchess Evgenia’s mother, the Danish born Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna, would be returned to St. Petersburg in accordance with her wish to be buried next to her husband, Tsar Alexander III.

In ceremonies attended by the Royal Family of Denmark, the ex-King Constantine of Greece, and his wife, Queen Anne-Marie, Prince Michael of Kent, The Crown Prince and Princess of Denmark and Romanov descendents and representatives of relations from almost all of Europe, she was reburied next to him, seventy years after her death.

Tasha thought that maybe she should have the remains of the Grand Duchess and her husband re-interred in Russia, as well, but she could find no information to suggest that the Grand Duchess wanted that. She certainly could have made that request known for the day when the communist regime fell, if she wanted to, just like her mother.

Father Gregory, from the Orthodox Church that the Grand Duchess attended led them in a The Pannikhida, a memorial service. He kissed a navy and gold epitrachelion and draped it around his neck over his white outer cassock. He placed his hand over the Suppedaneum Cross on a well worn brown leather bible and opened it to the Book of Psalms.

He intoned, volubly, “Have mercy upon us, O God, according to Thy great mercy, we beseech Thee. Hear us, and have mercy.”

They all replied, “Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.”

“We pray for the repose of the soul of the servant of God, Evgenia, departed from this life, and that Thou wilt pardon all her sins, both voluntary and involuntary.”

“Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.”

“That the Lord God will establish her soul where the just repose.”

“Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.”

“Let us pray to the Lord.”

“Lord, have mercy.”

“O God of spirits, and of all flesh, Who hast trampled down death by death, and overthrown the Devil, and hast bestowed life upon Thy world: do Thou Thyself, O Lord, grant rest to the soul of Thy departed servant, Evgenia, in a place of brightness, a place of verdure, a place of repose, whence all sickness, sorrow and sighing have fled away. As the gracious God, Who lovest mankind, pardon every transgression which she has committed, whether by word, or deed, or thought.”

“For Thou alone art without sin, and Thy righteousness is to all eternity, and Thy word is truth. For Thou art the Resurrection, and the Life, and the Repose of Thy departed servant, Evgenia. O Christ our God, and unto Thee we ascribe glory, together with Thy Father, Who is from everlasting, and Thine All-Holy, and Good and Life-Giving Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages.”

“Amen.”

When they returned to the Island, everyone noticed that Tasha was very often confused. It was hard for her to vocalize her feelings and she struggled to communicate how she felt. Participation in day to day decisions became difficult. She lost her train of thought frequently which caused her embarrassment so she started writing everything down. After a while she became frustrated with this as she could no longer remember how to spell simple words and construct sentences so she was very dependant on the voice recognition software.

Nica said to Trinity, one night after dinner with Tasha, “Goddie is forgetting so much, now. I’ve been thinking about it and I will talk to Jase tonight, but I’m not sure that I want to do the ‘big wedding’ thing anymore. I was thinking about just having a small gathering here at the house. We could do a big blow out reception later in the year. I want her to be at my wedding and she wanted to be involved with helping me plan it.”

She paused then added, “I am afraid that there isn’t much time left before she doesn’t recognize me at all.”

Trinity said, “I try not to think about that, but no, I don’t mind. Make sure that is what you want. If you really want a big deal you’ll never be satisfied with a small wedding. And it will never feel the same to try to recreate that later. I will be satisfied whatever you decide to do. Talk it over with Jase, make sure you both agree. Remember, he has family that has certain expectations, as well.”

Pausing, going back to Nica’s concern, Trinity said, “I know what you mean, though. Uncle Fred said the same thing, too. She talks a lot more about things from when we were young, things that I don’t remember that she reminds me about. Then, sometimes, she won’t remember that she is here instead of New York or Palm Beach.”

And, the Ansbach,” she continued, “you would think that she would never forget that, but Uncle Fred said that he was talking to her about whether it should be repaired since the key element was taken out or whether they should leave it as it is and he said that she asked him what he was talking about. He said he repeated what he said, but she still seemed to have no clue. But, later when he brought the question up again, she knew exactly what he was talking about. He thought that was odd, but coming from Uncle Fred, that said a lot because he don’t remember shit!”

“I know, right.” Nica fell back on the sofa, laughing.

The Mortality

“Stop!” Tasha shouted at her Nurse who tried to insert a feeding tube through her nose.

Trinity struggled to hold her head still. She hated having to do it because Tasha was combative and resistant. The Nurse wanted to restrain her hands, as well, but that, Trinity would never allow.

Tasha had been refusing food which caused her to lose weight rapidly. Because she was not ingesting sufficient nutrients, her doctor insisted that the tube be inserted or he would have to admit her to hospital to have an access port put through her abdominal wall directly to her intestines.

“What did I do to deserve this?” Tasha asked, tearfully. “Tell me!”

“Please let them insert the tube, Tasha or you are going to have to go back in the hospital.”

Tasha’s rage was acute and she had every reason to be angry, not just about the insertion of her feeding tube. The decision that Tasha’s father made for her was right. She never felt any way other than female. She was never attracted to a woman. She loved men. She loved her female parts. She was let down by medicine and the ineptitude of the first surgeon. If he had advised her pediatrician that he was unable to find the right streak gonad a second attempt would have been made, increasing the likelihood of it being removed. She may not have developed the Stage IV cancer that had already spread to her liver, lungs and brain.

“It’s in now, Tasha. It’s OK.” Trinity said as she wiped the tears from the corners of Tasha’s eyes.

Four nights later, after Tasha was bathed and her pajamas put on her, the Nurse’s Aid massaged lotion onto her arms and legs then went into her bathroom carrying used towels as Trinity came into the room bringing the Jewel trade magazines that had just been brought from the post office. Tasha used to pour over them; reading each line over and over. She even had them catalogued and bound and put in the library once she had taken in every word. One time, she called the publisher and pointed out an error in the descriptive text in the magazine that said that a Moissanite was a type of diamond. She told him that Moissanite, although naturally extremely rare, was an inclusion in diamonds, but not a diamond. The magazine corrected the statement.

“I’ll go get her medications ready.” said the Nurse as she passed Trinity.

Trinity put the magazines on her bedside table.

“Do you want me to read one to you, Tash?” Trinity asked.

Tasha did not answer. Laying in bed, she just stared at Trinity and her face started to contort.

“Tash, what’s the matter? Tasha?”

Tasha’s mouth twisted and opened wide. She let out a low moan. Her back arched in spasms, then her whole body contorted and she became rigid. Tasha’s beautiful sable eyes rolled over so that just a small crescent shaped sliver of white could be seen. Her lips turned blue with spittle coming from the corners.

“Call an ambulance, quick. She’s having a seizure.” said Trinity to the Nurse’s Aide, who was exiting Tasha’s bathroom.

As Tasha’s muscles contracted, it seemed as she if she had reached a breaking point when she started thrashing violently.

“Ka-Tush, Ka-Tush, Ka-Tush, Ka-Tush, Ka-Tush.” was the sound as her head repeatedly hit the pillow.

“Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup, Ka-Cup.” was the sound of her leg hitting the foot board.

“Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang, Ka-Bang” was the sound of her elbow hitting the rail.

“Put some pillows around her. Don’t hold her, but don’t let her hurt herself.” Trinity said.

The bed shook as Tasha tossed around. The IV pole crashed down, pulling out her access port. Blood drained onto the bed. Before she could react and move out of the way, the pole hit the Nurse’s Aid on the head. A container of Vitamin E gel fell to the burl walnut inlay floor, spilling its contents, causing them all to slide. Tasha’s jaws were clenched together so hard, it sounded like her teeth were cracking. Urine flowed onto the bed and a small amount of watery stool was excreted onto her pajama bottom.

Then it stopped. Tasha let out a low moan as her lower jaw moved from side to side and she fell into a postictal state with rattled breaths. She looked like she was asleep. Janice heard the commotion and suddenly appeared. Trinity thanked God that she did not see Tasha like that. Then the ambulance arrived and took Tasha to the hospital accompanied by the Nurse. Janice, Trinity and Fred followed.

Trinity wrote in the diary: November 13th, 10:34 am. Last night was terrifying. It was the first time that she has had a seizure, as far as we know. She had to be admitted this morning. The confusion is worrying although it does not appear that she has lost any mobility or strength. Dr. Kendal was afraid that she might have thrown another clot. The CT scan shows that there is a large dark spot just at the back of her head. Compared to the CT that she had in London this appears to have happened recently. That means it is fast growing.

November 14th, 8:46 pm. This is the worst thing that it could possibly be. It turns out to be a tumour that threads through the occipital region. Surgery will not help. They say she is terminal and may live for a few weeks. I can’t believe that. I don’t want to believe that. Janice is devastated.

Tasha was released a week later for supportive care after she had a jejunostomy tube inserted into her small intestines to receive enteral nourishment.

Nica and Jase married, in balmy weather, under a pergola by the waterfall and lily pond on December 23rd. Tasha, Uncle Fred, Janice, Captain Issam, Trinity and Jase’s parents stayed on The Pearl to fish while Nica, Jase, their school friends and other guests took the Corsair to the cay in lieu of a reception.

Tasha was upbeat. Even though in the Russian Orthodox Church, Christmas is celebrated on January 7th, in the Gregorian Calendar, she went with Trinity to her church; an Anglican Church on Christmas Eve in the Julian calendar. No one knew when the Christ was born so Tasha and Janice always happily celebrated his symbolic birth then, as well. Janice hosted Christmas Day lunch and late that night Tasha stayed up to watch Junkanoo on television. New Year’s Eve she asked Trinity to take her to Watch Night Service then fell asleep as soon as they came back home.

In the dead of night, just after three o’clock am, Trinity was woken up.

“Mama, Mama.” she heard Tasha crying mournfully.

Janice was startled out of her sleep, too and rushed to her side.

“Mama, Mama, Mama.”

Janice said, “I’m here, Sweetheart.”

Janice put her hand on her cheek. Tasha’s eyes looked past her.

“Mama, Mama.”

“I am here, Tasha. What’s the matter? Are you in pain? I’m here. Can’t you see me?”

“Mama.” Tasha moaned. “Mama, Mama.”

“What happened, why is she calling out?” Janice asked Trinity who now slept in Tasha’s room with her.

“I don’t know Janice. I checked everything on her. The Nurse already gave her a shot for pain.” Trinity answered.

It became all too frequent that Tasha lost the perception of day or night and cried out at any time. Sometimes she called for Trinity. Sometimes she called for Nica or Uncle Fred or Captain Issam. She had some moments of clarity, but not many. On one of those occasions, Trinity was brushing her hair one evening when Tasha stopped her and held her hand.

“What’s the matter?” Trinity asked.

“T, I can’t do this anymore. It is only going to get worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t go on living like this.”

“Don’t say that, Tash. You mustn’t give up.”

“T, I am dying. Tomorrow, I may not remember you, Mama, Nica, Issam or Uncle Fred or anyone ever again. These headaches are unbearable. I have to be drugged up just to get through the day. The world is darkening and I am seeing less and less of it each day. I can’t walk anymore. I am wearing a diaper, for fuck sake. I can’t live like this. I want to live, but not like this.”

Trinity sat down and sighed deeply.

“Look at you. You are exhausted. It isn’t fair to put you or Mama through this.”

“Wouldn’t you do the same for us?”

“Yes, I would, but that doesn’t mean that I should.”

Tasha paused. Trinity was silent.

“I am ready.”

“What are you saying? Are you asking me to help you……”

“…end my life?” Tasha asked. “No, I would never ask you to do that. That is an affront to God. I want to go to heaven and be buried within the church.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I may not get the chance again to tell you that I am grateful for all that you have done for me since we met as school children, but it is time to stop. Please.”

Trinity took a deep breath and shook her head.

“When it happens, I don’t want any more efforts to save me.”

Trinity looked at Tasha in disbelief.

“Don’t have me resuscitated. I have already told Dr. Kendal.” she said.

“He will not be here. I don’t know if I can do that. You know that Janice will not agree to that, either.”

“When the time comes, you have to make her understand.”

“Why can’t you tell her?”

“She came to talk with me the other night. She already blames herself for my condition. She told me about the drugs that she took to prevent another miscarriage. I don’t want her to be further burdened with the decision before it actually happens.”

Trinity covered her face with her palms then she screamed, with tears running down her face. “How can you ask me to do that? What about me? How can you let me suffer the burden? How much more can I take, Tasha?! How much more do you expect me to take?!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Isn’t that the same as suicide? You can’t just decide that your life is not worth living. You know that would be saying that there is no hope in your life, that God cannot bring light into your life. It seems to me that you are just willing yourself to die.”

“’What strength have I, that I should endure? And what is my future, that I should be patient?’ said Tasha, reciting from the book of Job.

“I know what Job asked God, but he finally admitted, ‘I know thou canst do all things,
And that nothing with thee is impossible.’”

“I believe that with every fiber of my being. I just don’t want to be kept artificially alive. Let nature take its own course, without interference.”

“I don’t want you to suffer anymore, either, Tash,” she said, “but, how can you expect me to do that? How can I stop Janice from wanting to save you? What about Nica or Jase or Uncle Fred? What about Issam? What about him? No one will agree to that. You are putting me in a bad position. You are asking too much.”

“They will listen to you, T. Promise me that you will do it. Make them understand.”

“OK, Tash.” she said in resignation. “I just can’t talk about it anymore.”

“Can you ask Father Peter to come, tomorrow? I want to confess and receive Holy Communion while I still have some awareness left.”

“Alright.” she acquiesced.

“Thanks, T.”

When Tasha finally drifted off to sleep, Trinity wept. The next day, Trinity took Father Peter to Tasha’s bedroom, closed the door and left them alone.

Tasha made the sign of the Cross.

"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was four weeks ago." she said.

“What do you wish to confess?” Father Peter asked.

She told him. He said nothing, just nodded.

“Do you repent of your sins?” he asked her.

“Yes. I have asked my Lord to help me see all of my sins in thought, in word and in deed. I repent of them and will make amends with those that I have wronged. I will seek them out and ask for their forgiveness. I carry my burden of cancer as my cross. It is not for earthly glory that I am ready to receive the balm of the Holy Unction, but to ask God to heal me so that my soul would be enlightened and my body raised up to walk in his ways and to receive the medicine of immortality, the Holy Communion.”

"Give thanks to the Lord for He is good.” said Father Peter.

"For His mercy endures forever." she answered.

Father Peter anointed her with oil and wine. He made the sign of the cross on her forehead, eyes, ears, nose, mouth and the back and the palms of her hands. Then she received Holy Communion.

After Father Peter left, Trinity came back to Tasha. She was followed by Janice who held a vase of blue and white gladiolas. Trinity looked at the ground. She could not even look Janice in the eye. If Janice knew what Tasha had asked her to do and what she had agreed to do, she would not be so cheerful.

Tasha looked at Trinity, as she said to Janice, “Mama, they are beautiful.”

“You should come out to see the water lilies. I don’t know why, but the colours are extra special this year.”

Janice put the vase on the table under a Jackson Burnside painting and gently rearranged the flowers.

“I am going back out. Do you want anything before I go, honey?” she asked.

“No, Mama. Thanks. I have to write some letters, but when this feed is done I’ll come out.”

Tasha was now receiving supplemental enteral liquid via a J-tube leading directly into her intestines.

When Janice left, Tasha said, “T, please……..”

“I have to go, Tasha. I can’t talk about this right now.”

She watched Trinity leave in distress, but she was resolute in her decision. She opened her laptop, sent out an email and waited for the reply. She wrote three letters in long hand. When she was through she told her PA to deliver them to her Attorney’s office. Trinity came back in when the PA left.

“OK, T, I’m ready to go outside, now.” she said.

Trinity said nothing, but took her to the elevator, down to the ground floor and out to the garden, where Janice stood with a pair of pruning shears in her gloved hand under a vibrant Yellow Elder tree. Trinity wheeled Tasha to a teak wood bench under the tree. Bowered by the canopy, Tasha was delighted as a sweet breeze caused the delicate and fragrant funnel shaped blossoms to whorl around her. She looked up as the petals showered down on her. She scooped up those that settled in her lap and threw them up in the air. The buttercup coloured petals cascaded around her. Tasha squinted as the breeze caused slivers of sunshine to slice through the branches then she looked at Trinity and picked off the one petal that dropped onto her shoulder.

On the ground, some yards away, were two peacocks and two peahens, along with three female and two male adult golden pheasants, four chicks, pecking in the grass for insects and berries and two Lady Amherst's pheasants, the male with black and silver feathers on its head, and red, blue, white and yellow feathers on its body. The yardman who was helping Janice brought over a wooden bowl of seeds and nuts and gave them to Tasha, who scattered them on the ground for the birds. Soon some ring necked doves flew down and was pecking in the ground, as well.

Tasha asked, “Do you remember when we were in school and it snowed?

“Uh umm.” Trinity answered, dryly.

“We all ran out of class to see it. Even the teachers came out and stood with us on the balcony. It only lasted about an hour. January 19th. I’ll never forget it. It was the only time it ever snowed here. Then when the sun came back out, it fractured light tenfold like a well cut sparkling diamond. Everywhere looked like twinkling jewels. Do you remember, T?”

“Yes,” Trinity said petulantly. “I remember. It was also the day that you would not give me back ‘the diamond’ even though it was my turn to wear it.”

“I didn’t want to give it back because when it was your turn before that, you didn’t wear it, so I figured I would keep it.” she told Trinity, forcefully.

Janice could hear their conversation. She knew, well enough by then, never to get in between them. They would eventually sort it out. She continued gardening.

“You made me so upset, I cried.” Trinity said, her voice trailing as she looked over the bed of purple and yellow crocus flowers.

“I know. I am sorry for that. I should not have done that.” Tasha said apologetically.

“Why did you, though?”

“So much was going on with me. It was just before those girls bullied me in the bathroom. I felt like it had some magical power and it would protect me from being found out. The funny thing is, it was you that protected me. But, after that we passed it back and forth again until we graduated, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, and you took my ‘diamond’ with you!”

“But, I gave it back to you when I came back.”

“Yeah, well…….that’s OK, then.”

“Don’t be mad about it anymore, please.” she said with a pacific gesture of touching her arm.

“OK, Tash.” Trinity replied, laying that argument down for Tasha’s sake.

Tasha reached over and ran her fingers through the waterfall that flowed into the water lily pond. Her fingers ran through the leaves and flowers in the water.

“Nica is my most beautiful water lily. Thank you, Trinity. Thank you for letting me have her.”

“She loves you very much. She loved that you called her ‘Water Lily’. I wonder if she ever loved me as much as she loves you. She is so much more like you than me.”

“She loves you to the depth of her soul.” Tasha told her.

Trinity smiled at her, grateful for her reassurance.

“I think I better go back, T. My head is hurting.”

Trinity wheeled Tasha back to her bedroom and helped her to her bed.

Tasha said, “T, he won’t answer me.”

“Who won’t answer you?” Trinity asked.

“Carter.” she said.

“Then God knows that you tried. Don’t give him a second thought, anymore.”

“Can you start the player please? Just press start. It is a song for you.”

That was the last thing that Tasha said to her. She recognized the song right away. Mariah Carey’s Music Box played. As the ballerina notes played, Trinity could feel her lips and jaw tremble. She tried to hold it in. She sat down and put her face in her hands on the edge of Tasha’s bed and whimpered.

After that, Tasha was non communicative and completely blind. A fortnight later, on a late afternoon, she was at her lowest. Janice, Fred, Issam and Trinity sat at her bedside, in hushed reverence while her favourite classical recordings segued over the sound system. One that she particularly loved, Gabriel Faure’s Pavane, performed by Branford Marsalis played softly in the background. Through her open balcony doors they heard the waves lap onto the shore and black winged seagulls sing in the distance.

Trinity stayed close to Janice. So much was rushing through her head. Her chest felt like it was being squeezed and she could not breathe.

The Nurse said, “I am going to call Dr. Kendal.”

She had to say something. She took a deep breath.

“Let me speak with him.” Trinity ordered.

She went out of the room then came back.

“An ambulance is on the way.” she said, after she returned to the room.

Trinity sat beside Uncle Fred. She was breathing erratically, she felt her heart beating. She was scared.

“I can’t do this.” she thought to herself. “How can I do this?”

She heard herself shout out, “Tasha!”

Janice and Fred were startled. They turned to face her. Tasha raised her hand ever so slightly and pointed to the doors leading to the outside. Captain Issam took off his jacket and shoes and rolled up his sleeves. He then easily lifted her from the bed. Janice was perplexed.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“She wants to go on the beach, Janice.” Trinity answered.

“Why is he taking her to the beach?”

“She asked to go.”

“Wait…….” she started to say, a little angry, very concerned.

“Let her go, Janice. Let her go.” Uncle Fred told her.

Janice buried her head on Fred’s shoulder.

Issam carried her down the stairs leading from the balcony and stepped out on to the beach. As he walked with her, Janice, Uncle Fred, and Trinity watched from under the orange and pink bougainvillea covered treillage over the balcony. Issam sat in a lounge chair with Tasha on his lap as the water swirled around her legs. He watched as the sun dipped lower and more dim on the horizon. Trinity stood next to Janice, shaking, waiting for the sound of the siren.

“How the hell can I want her to go before the ambulance gets here? Oh God, please forgive me. How could I ever have agreed to this? Oh God, I can’t do this.”

She heard it. It was close by.

“Oh Jesus, Saviour.” she heard Janice say.

Tasha raised her hand and touched the side of Issam’s face. With her head on his shoulder, she died. Trinity knew it and lost her composure. She ran down to the beach, falling to her knees, in the sand, at Tasha’s side. As she held her hand and head, Trinity kissed her face and told her goodbye. Captain Issam carried her back to her bedroom and gently lowered her onto the bed. He retreated to a chair in the corner of the room, put his head in his hands and wept. Janice held on to Tasha and wailed. The estate staff gathered in the kitchen.

The ambulance pulled into the graveled drive and was met by the housekeeper who directed them to Tasha’s bedroom suite.

“She has a DNR order.” Trinity quickly told the EMTs. “Do not resuscitate.”

“What are you talking about?” Janice asked Trinity.

The EMTs placed the sensors on her chest. The order was of no consequence, any more. She was already dead.

“Aren’t you even going to try?” she asked them, pitifully.

“Janice, honey, she’s gone.” said Fred.

Every time Fred tried to hug her, she broke his embrace with her arms and pushed him away.

“Don’t tell me my child is gone. Help her! Help her!” She lashed out at Fred. “It is so easy for all of you, God Damn It! That is my child…….” she screamed. “My only, my perfect….….child.”

Finally, she cried on his shoulder. The EMTs left and Fred called the mortician. Nica was told by Jase that her Goddie died while they were in Bali.

“We’re coming back home as soon as I can make the arrangements.” Jase told Uncle Fred.

“I’ll send The Aurora.”

Fred waited for Father Peter at the open front door. He was in shock and lost in thought as he stared mindlessly at the flowers in the garden. Even they seemed, to him, to drop their heads and bleed their colours in grief. He wanted to cry and grieve, too, but he had to hold it together, even though it was difficult hearing staff members crying all around him.

He heard the crunch of the gravel beneath the tyres as the car pulled onto the driveway. Along with Father Peter was the chanter, Deacon William whom he led to Tasha’s bedroom. Father Peter put his hand on Janice’s shoulder and prayed. Gingerly, Fred guided her to a chair in the corner of the room. Making the sign of the cross, Father Peter put on his Epitrachelion and began the ‘Office at the Parting of the Soul from the Body’.

As he swung the incense filled censer over Tasha’s body, Father Peter chanted, “Blessed is our God always, both now and ever, and to the ages of ages.”

Besides the Holy men, Janice was the only one who knew the Russian Orthodox Trisagion, but she sat, forlorn, silent and stunned, glaring at Trinity.

Deacon William had to answer, “Amen, Holy God, Holy Strong, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us.”

“O Lord God Almighty, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who willest that all men should be saved, and should come unto the knowledge of the truth; who desirest not the death of a sinner, but that he should turn again and live: We pray thee and implore thee, absolve thou the soul of thy servant, Nataliya., from every bond, and deliver her from every curse. Pardon her transgressions, both of knowledge and of ignorance, both of deed and of word, which she hath committed from her youth up, and hath cleanly confessed or hath concealed, either through forgetfulness or through shame. For thou alone loosest those things which are bound, and guidest aright the contrite, and art the hope of the despairing, and mighty to remit the sins of every man who putteth his trust in thee.”

“Yea, O Lord who lovest mankind, give thou command, and she shall be released from the bonds of the flesh and of sin; and receive thou in peace the soul of this thy servant, Nataliya, and give it rest in the everlasting mansions, with thy Saints; through the grace of thine Only-begotten Son, our Lord, and God, and Saviour Jesus Christ: with whom also thou art blessed, together with thine all-holy, and good, and life-giving Spirit, now, and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen. Let us pray to the Lord.”

“Lord, have mercy.” said Deacon William.

Fred was beckoned by the housekeeper. He turned his ear to her then they discreetly went downstairs.

On his return, after Father Peter had finished, he told them, “The funeral director has arrived.”

On hearing this, Janice got up, went to Tasha’s bed, put her arm under her shoulders and wrapped her arms around them. She kissed her over and over again.

“Oh, my perfect girl. God knows how much I love you. I don’t want you to go………I don’t want you to go. Oh Sweetheart, will I see you again?” Janice sobbed.

She wasn’t ready to let her to go. She didn’t want her body to go to a dead house. The morticians waited on her for a long while, but then Fred had to pull her away so that Tasha’s body could be moved onto a gurney. He walked behind it as the morticians took her from her bedroom to the waiting hearse. When they closed the door and drove away, he went back to Janice and they cried together.

Captain Issam, Uncle Fred, Father Peter and Deacon William followed the hearse to the funeral home. They sat in the waiting room, in silence, while Father Peter and Deacon William went into the preparation room where her body was washed and dressed in a high neck, long sleeved, seed pearl embellished, Valentino ivory silk and guipure lace gown. He sprinkled holy water on all four sides of the mahogany casket before her body was placed in it. At home, Trinity was with Janice.

“You just let her go. Just like that.” she said, snapping her fingers, indignantly.

Trinity felt anxious and heated. Her throat felt dry and constricted. She sat down.

“She said that she wanted to go.” Trinity answered, fearfully.

“She didn’t tell me that.”

“She didn’t want you to have to make the decision.”

This was what Trinity was afraid of. She felt that it wasn’t fair that she could not grieve, but instead had to deal with Janice’s questions and, understandably, her anger.

“Who said she was not to be resuscitated?”

“Tasha left those orders.”

“When?”

“Just after the New Year. Just before she stopped speaking.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?!” Janice cried. “Why didn’t you tell me, Trinity?!”

“She asked me not to.” Trinity said apologetically.

“OK,” she said, glaring at Trinity. “Alright.”

Trinity hesitatingly went to her. She wasn’t sure if Janice would allow it, but she wanted to comfort her and she needed to be comforted, as well. Could she say….“Sorry Janice, I didn’t really want to do it, but I was forced?…..”

So Trinity said nothing. Janice continued to sneer at her. When Trinity leaned down to hug her, Janice got up from the chair and walked straight past her open arms. Trinity felt the freeze as she passed by.

As Tasha’s friends and family came to grieve and comfort Janice, each read aloud a passage from the Book of Psalms. Mr. Ponsby was sent a text message. He read the message just after breakfast when his driver came to pick him up to go to the squash court at 5:30 am and he called her right away. His heart sank for her. He could hear the pain in her voice.

“Trinity,” he started.

It was the first time that he had ever called her by her first name. He corrected himself.

“Mrs. Paget, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

“Please call me Trinity, George.”

She wanted him to call her by her first name. She wanted that comfort from him. How would she be able to tell him about Tasha if she couldn’t be closer than formal names would allow?

She said, “She’s in better hands.”

He nodded in consent. He genuinely believed that. Not as a denouncement of her care of Tasha, but as a belief in the hereafter.

“Have any arrangements been made for her funeral, as yet? I would like to come for the service.”

“I would like very much if you came. I will be able to confirm the date and time with you, probably by the end of the day. Everything depends on what her mother, Janice, wants. I will call you.”

“Thank you. Good bye.”

Lost in thought, he walked to the florist a few blocks down the street from the bank to arrange for an order to be sent from the local florist on the Island. He wanted to do this himself and he chose white roses. He put his scarf and coat back on and absentmindedly walked back to the bank.

Once in his office, he prepared for the monthly meeting of the Board. Previously scheduled for the agenda was the issue of the Duchess’ estate. He sent out briefings ahead of time, so he was hoping that the members were all prepared and this meeting would wrap up quickly.

The Chairman, Sir Clive, began the meeting by announcing the call to order. Distractedly, he heard the Secretary read the minutes from the previous meeting. Sir Clive asked if there were any amendments to the minutes. George was glad that there weren’t and the motion was passed to accept them.

He told the Board that Ms. Romanova passed away the day before and he had already sent condolences on behalf of the Bank.

“I will keep the Board informed as I receive more information.” he told them.

He put on his glasses and opened his brief.

“As the member in charge of Acquisitions, I must remind you all that due to the death of Ms. Romanova, the property, accounts and jewel collection will pass into the ownership of Mrs. Trinity Paget. I will provide the Board of further developments after I speak with Mrs. Paget about them.” he told them.

That night he prayed an extra prayer to ask that she be given strength to endure.

Janice Ovsianico

Janice was brought up in a very racist and abusive family. She had two elder brothers and along with her father, they were all members of the Ku Klux Klan.

Her father sexually abused Janice from the age of seven to thirteen. One night, her nineteen year old brother, Mathew, did so, as well. He came in the dead of night, held up the blue crocheted bed covers then slipped in with her. She couldn’t take any more of their filth. She couldn’t stand any more of their stink sweaty grunts on her.

She finally found her voice and let out a blood curdling scream that he couldn’t stop, even by putting the pillow over her face. With all of her might, she kicked and kicked and finally she was out of his clutches. She ran out of the house with bare feet and she kept running until a Police car pulled up alongside of her. Hysterically, she told them what was happening to her on an almost daily basis. Her father and brother were arrested and tried. Both received incarceration and long sentences.

She never saw her father again, neither the brother that raped her, nor her mother who insisted all along that there was nothing like that going on in her house. Janice would always remember that her mother said, at the trial, over and over again, that she was lying. She knew what was going on, though. Janice told her many times and she always told Janice to shut up.

Janice was taken in by Richard and Marie Crammer, whose son, David was off in college. They bought her new clothes, toiletries and books and made her feel secure. They played board games, tennis, basketball, and took road trips to the beach and the mountains. When David came home on school breaks, he included her when he got together with his friends and he was very protective of her. They gave her the stability and love that she needed. She had never known before what it was to have a normal family life. They made her feel safe with them.

One day, at the dinner table, she told them, “Sitting down and eating dinner here is so nice, not like at my parent’s house.”

“Why do you say that?” Richard asked her.

“No one spoke. If we said or did something wrong, we could expect to have the food slapped out of our mouths, our mother included.”

Richard and Marie looked at each other.

“You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. You are welcome to stay with us. Forever, if you want to.”

Janice was glad to hear that. Being with them was the happiest time of her life and she wanted to stay. She received a scholarship to take up Early Childhood Education at Mississippi State, but in her third year Richard and Marie were killed in a car crash.

David called her and she went home right away. After the funeral, David told her that he hoped that she would always consider their home as her own, because he genuinely felt like she was his sister, his family. Janice felt the same.

A few months prior to Tasha’s hospitalization in London, Janice found out that her other brother, Darryl, who lived in Colorado, was sick with emphysema. She went to visit him, paid all of his bills, paid his rent and got him the best medical treatment available. He was gaunt, had a few yellowed teeth and greasy gray hair pulled back in a pony tail. Emphysema wracked his body, he was on oxygen and still he used his breath to curse anyone different from him. He was a card carrying member of the White Supremacists and the Aryan Brotherhood. He spewed hate when he was younger, but she thought that maybe he had changed. Even she could not fathom the depth of his hatred of anyone who was not white and she was disturbed by what she saw and heard.

In his apartment, her senses were bombarded. Every surface of his house was covered with Aryan Race promotions, Whites Only Nation propaganda, the Confederate Flag, 14 and 88. Every conversation eventually got to killing big negroes, boys, castes, chinks, coolies, coons, darkies, degos, geechees, ghettos, golliwogs, greasers, house niggers, injuns, japs, jigaboos, jewdogs, jungle bunnies, kaffirs, kemosabes, kikes, kimchis, mandingos, monkeys, niggas, niggers, niggests, orientals, pakis, pikeys, prairie niggers, quidos, ragheads, saltwater lubos, sambos, sand niggas, shines, slit eyes, slopes, spics, spooks, squaws, timber niggers, untouchables, wetbacks, wops and ziggaboos; the list goes on, anyone who was non-white. He never said chav, cracker, gerry, hillbilly, honky, kraut, pink, redneck or wyacoo. They were white.

On the Island they had a few of their own; Conchy Joe and hard red (a class of people who called themselves white, but they weren’t quite there) and hyshin (said instead of Haitian) as in my hyshin, imparting an ownership of a gardener or labourer. For example, “My hyshin (not my gardener) is coming tomorrow to clean my yard”.

Light skinned black people (in some cases, anyone of any other race who had really pretty, smooth light brown or tanned skin) were called high-yellow or mango skinned. Those labels are highly prized and when said to or used to describe someone, are considered a good thing. But, if you were called ‘a jungless’ or ‘a yardy’, that meant that you acted ‘ghetto’ to the core and were considered the lowest of the classes.

Despite Janice’s misgivings, she had Captain Daniel Ek and Captain Richard Bain fly to Colorado to bring him and his sons to the funeral. The cabin assistant Ericka called ahead to the Concierge Service at the Jet Port to have a package ready for them when they arrived. She thanked them when she received it and immediately started preparation for Darryl and his sons to board the jet.

Once all preparations were complete, she welcomed them as they took their seats and told them that the pilots would come out to speak to them as soon as they were airborne. Erika was born and raised in England. Her children were teenagers and she was working towards getting her pilot’s license and working for Tasha gave her the time and money to do so.

They were already warned by Janice about her brother’s racism, in consideration of the fact that both Captain Bain, who was an Islander and Captain Ek, from Holland, were black. Trinity never voiced her concern about this to Aunt Janice. When she brought up the subject, while they were making the plans for the funeral, Trinity did not say that she would prefer that they not stay at the house.

On the plane, they were like rambunctious children when they saw the luxury of it. They jumped in the chairs throwing their legs over the chair arms.

Ericka told them, “Lunch will be ready in about an hour. Would you prefer boxed wine, 40s, Kool Aid or something a little bit stronger?”

“Err, you have any Buds?”

“I’m afraid that we don’t have any ‘Buds’, but we do have Kaliks or Heinekens.”

“Nah, we don’t want none of that foreign shit.”

“Would you prefer Bourbon?” she asked them.

“Yeah, that’ll do.”

When Ericka returned with the drinks, she said to them, “We are serving today a combination of chicken breast and thigh pieces that have been delicately breaded and sautéed extra crispy accompanied by Island rice and black-eyed peas and spring greens with chitterlings. Then, for desert, we have a compote of summer melon served over warm brownies.”

“Woo Hoo. That’s what I’m talking about boys. What did I tell ya?” asked Darryl, hootin’ and high fivin’.

Later when Captain Ek came out to have his lunch, he introduced himself and extended his hand to them. It was not shaken. When he sat down, they visibly recoiled in disgust. Captain Ek remained very professional.

“I hope that you are enjoying yourselves. We will arrive on the Island in about five hours. I’m afraid that I have to eat quickly and return to the pit.”

They looked at him with their noses crinkled, like they smelled hog shit. No…..worse than that…….nigger shit!

“Is there anything that you would like? If we have it on board that would be great, otherwise, if it is something that is not on board then we will call it in to be gotten as soon as we land.”

Captain Ek’s English sentences were a bit round-a-bout, but he spoke four other languages, so he was entitled. The brother and sons just stared at him. An uncomfortable silence settled on the table. Captain Ek made small talk. All he received back were ugly leers.

When Captain Ek went back to the pit, the brother whispered to his sons, “What the fuck was that all about? I just about lost my appetite now. I couldn’t breathe to smell him so close to me”.

About thirty minutes later Captain Bain came out to introduce himself.

When they saw him, the brother whispered, from the side of his mouth, to his sons, “Another one of these fuckers. Please tell me the Captain is white.”, which of course Captain Bain heard.

“I am Chief Captain Bain. How are you?” he asked them. “Welcome.”

He extended his hand to introduce himself. Again, they did not shake it.

“I was born on the Island. Is there anything that you would like me to tell you about it?”

“Don’t think so.” said one of the sons.

“I’m afraid that I have to eat quickly.” he said.

He tried to tell them where they were and told them that if they looked out of the window they would be able to see that they were now flying over the Berry Islands. Still, he got no intelligent conversation in return. So, he finished eating in silence.

Then, he said, while beating his chest with his palms, “Man, Oh Man, I’ll tell you, that fried chicken was delicious. The watermelon was really good, too. A 40 would be the thing right about now Ericka, but I have got to fly this plane. Maybe later.”

He got up and took Ericka’s hand and kissed it. She returned the gesture by kissing him on the lips. The uncle sputtered and his sons looked on in disgust.

Ericka, who was white and Captain Bain’s wife, pushed the KFC fried chicken bucket that she had delivered to the jet earlier, into the garbage. She ducked behind the kitchen counter. She slid down to the floor and slapped her knees. She had one of those head-back-throat-opening-eye-watering-side-splitting-laughs, in silence.

The brother and his sons did not speak to Ericka for the rest of the flight. Everything that she asked or said to them was met by silence. They arrived at The Reef a little after Mr. Ponsby, who was met at the airport by Captain Issam.

The caterers and the regular kitchen staff worked at top speed. As one chafing dish of food was emptied another one was brought out to the buffet tables. The kitchen had remained staffed, even during the night so that house guests could have around the clock service. As soon as he could, the brother cornered Janice.

“How can you be around those people? They ain’t ordinary workers. Why are they here? What are they doing here?” he asked, indicating with a tilt of his chin towards Trinity and Uncle Fred changing the chafing dishes and Captain Bain and Captain Ek each talking to separate groups of people as they ate dinner.

“Don’t you start with that foolishness, hear?”

“How come you are always with these niggas and golliwogs?”

As she turned to walk away, he grabbed her elbow and yanked her back to him.

He said, “You were flown by private plane from Colorado. We came by private plane. That’s not cheap. This house is a mansion. Look at the whole compound. It looks to me that Tasha had a lot of money and you’re going to get it. Don’t you think you should share some with her family?”

“Shut up. You are going to leave. I don’t want you in this house, any more. Take your shit back to Boulder.” she said very decisively.

Trinity heard the raised voices and the insults. Others looked around for the source of the argument.

“What’s the matter Aunt Janice, what’s going on?” asked Trinity.

Janice pointed at her brother and said, “Get that piece of shit out of here.”

At the same time as she said this, Trinity had to stop her from bitch slapping him, which was difficult because Aunt Janice was tall, like Tasha. Instead, Aunt Janice’s hand hit the cutlery that was in a large basket on the service table. It fell on the floor, with a big clash.

“Get out!” she said.

The Captains Issam, Ek and Bain, Uncle David, Jase, Uncle Fred and George all immediately stood up and came to her assistance.

Trinity knew that Tasha wanted nothing to do with her uncle. She had a private investigator dig into his dirt. He was a Nazi, a Ku Klux Klan, Aryan Brotherhood and a White Supremacist, all in one. He brought up his children to be just as hateful. Some were openly so, some were in secret, the worst kind. She thought that he would at least leave that in Colorado.

Tasha chose not to tell her mother that his evil was even more than she knew. He used to go on raids to look for black women and men. He liked to rape black people in general, but he liked to rape black men, in particular. He had to leave Mississippi and flee to Colorado after vigilantes planned to come after him and kill him.

Even though Trinity didn’t want them there, for Janice’s sake at the time, she bit her lip and said nothing. But, when Janice told her brother to get out, Trinity was happy to carry out that instruction.

“Okay, Aunt Janice, I’ll ask Issam to arrange it.”

“Not a problem.” said Issam. “Ek, are you gonna fly this piece of shit back to Colorado?”

“Nope, but I’ll call a taxi just to get him out of the neighbour hood.” Ek replied.

Altogether the others joined in, starting with George Ponsby.

“I’ll help.” he said.

Uncle Fred said, “I’ll make sure their bags are packed and waiting on the curbside. I wouldn’t want them to forget their white hoods.”

Issam said, “Then I guess you are flying commercial.”

Bain said, “Oh! I forgot Issam. There are no more flights going out tonight, but he can try tomorrow. In any case they can sleep at the airport until they do get one.”

And because racist people are the biggest pussies, his anger turned towards Trinity, not towards any of the men who now surrounded him.

“Who do you think you are? This is not your business.”

Mr. George Ponsby, the Governor of the Bank of Britannia, six foot two, stepped in front of Trinity. He stood to the brother, chest to head and looked down at him, with the expression on his face like, “so… what you gonna do?” The other men stepped closer, too, tightening the circle. The brother looked around him then tried to skulk away.

Uncle David had come down earlier in the week to be with Janice. Tasha regarded him as her real Uncle.

He pulled the brother over to the side and said to him, “I am a retired Prosecutor from Mississippi. Tasha and I knew about you. If Janice knew what you were really into, you would be put out of the apartment that she is paying for you to stay in. You would arrive in Boulder with no place to live. I’m not going to burden her with what I know about you. Not now. But, if you ever try to contact her or cause her any more problems, remember, I have enough connections to hunt you down. And, the men and women that you raped, I’ll let them know where to find you this time, too.”

“See, we found it very hard to make your victims suffer further humiliation in bringing you to justice. And putting you in jail would just be a picnic for you, being protected by your Aryan Brotherhood and all. Those people that you hurt, they begged us to tell them where you were. I almost did.”

He leaned in closer to his ear, “How do you think you made it out of Mississippi alive? Thank Tasha for that.” He whispered menacingly into his ear, “Run”.

Then back in his normal Southern gentlemanly voice, he said, “Go on, now. Get out of here.”

Fred went to Janice. He took her arm, placed it in the crook of his arm and led her away to the second floor suites.

She said to him, “I am so sorry for bringing him here, to insult Tasha’s real friends and family, to insult you.”

Fred patted her hand and cupped the left side of her face with his right hand.

He said to her, “Put it out of your mind now.”

Trinity heard Aunt Janice as she came up to bring them a pot of tea. Their favourite, Earl Grey.

“Aunt Janice, it is OK. You were just trying to do the right thing. Don’t fret over it. They are leaving right now, anyway.” she said.

Captain Ek sat with a group of people downstairs as they pondered how people could be so blinded by racism.

He said, “You know America is not the only country where racism is rife. My home, The Netherlands is considered to have one of the most liberally advanced societies when it comes to drugs, sex and feminist rights, but still, we have a Dutch festival starting on November 15th when whites parade in black face with red lips, an afro wig and gold hoop earrings.”

He read the Google Search, “Sinterklaas, known to English speaking countries as St. Nicholas or Santa Claus, parades in town centers to symbolize Sinterklaas’ arrival in the country from Spain to spread cheer. Sinterklaas, played by a white man, marches along the street with his helper Zwarte Pieten ‘Black Peter’, who according to tradition kidnaps naughty children in sacks and takes them back to Spain after the festival is over.”

“Are you serious?” asked Captain Issam with a look of incredulity.

“Yes.”, he read further, “These parades have been criticized and protested by the black community and white supporters for years, but still they continue. Actually, many people of colour have protested this tradition as it is seen that the character is racist.”

“How did that start?” asked Captain Bain.

He read, “Most Dutch Christmas traditions are born from an 18th century book, called Saint Nicholas and his Servant, in which Black Pete is a slave. A legal case was brought before the UN, but they made a ruling that the festivals could continue, as long as they caused no problems as they paraded. But, they refused to answer the question of whether or not the character of Black Pete was racist.”

“I didn’t know that.” said Uncle David. Shaking his head, he continued, “How can human beings be so insensitive to the collective feelings of their own countrymen, when they hold themselves up` to the world to be so advanced in other areas of civil rights?”

“Here are some photos.” said Captain Ek as he showed them on his pad. Everyone shook their head in disbelief.

“And, in Belgium, too, there are the Les Noirauds, The Blacks. They say, there, that it is acceptable for a group of white people to parade in blackface because they are charity workers who traditionally blacked up to prevent their identity being known. Who has to black up in this day and age to carry out charitable works? Even worse, they have Royal patronage. Look at the pictures of the Belgian Royal family smiling with them and shaking their hands, year after year. The present King, Philippe, if I am correct, is the great great grandson of the evil Leopold II. Make no mistake about it; he could very easily put a stop to this insult. Knowing of the history of the exploitation of the black Congolese, knowing that blacking up is an insult to some of his citizens, why would he not end this?”

After security escorted the brother and his family out and they were taken away in a taxi, Trinity came back to the group.

She said, “We have also experienced this in the reverse, here. When the Progressive Liberal Party, the PLP, a party founded by black leaders and lead by the lawyer, Sir Lynden Oscar Pindling, was in power, when I was younger, he assured the electoral vote by re-broadcasting the movie saga, Roots by Alex Haley, heavily up to the time of any election. Remember, Roots was the saga about an African boy that was captured and sold into slavery in America.”

“I remember it, very well. When it was first broadcast in the US, we were glued to the television. It told the story of the African’s descendents over many generations in the US. It was the only television that my parents allowed us to watch every night that it was on.” said Captain Bain.

“The psychology was extremely effective. He played on our emotions to vote for him, as he would have us believe, a vote against him meant that we were voting for the old white guard, who made up the opposition party, even though this wasn’t so. There was ‘vote fixing’, as well, and it helped him secure his ‘dictatorship’ through voting for 25 years doing things like that.”

As the others continued to eat, Trinity asked George to walk with her through the garden.

“That was very unfortunate, what happened in there.” he said.

“You know, I haven’t been called a golliwog since I was a student in England. That was back in ’70. I didn’t know that people still even used that word.”

“I still hear it, but it always causes my skin to crawl to hear it spoken by supposedly intelligent people that I know.” he replied.

They walked and talked. A refreshing breeze blew in from the sea. They paused to reflect by the water fall in the Koi pond. In various containers around The Reef were magnificent Angel’s Trumpets in hues of yellow, pink and red and George, being a gardener, identified them. He stopped to inhale their fragrance.

“These flowers are intoxicating and beautiful. I have seen them in photos, but never in real life, though.”

“Wonderful fragrance, but deadly if ingested.”

“Yes. Do you garden?”

“I don’t. I love to look at it, but this is all Janice’s work. The birds are mine, though.”

They continued to walk. Trinity broke the silence as she mindlessly fiddled with a flower from the purple Crepe Myrtle.

“I am really glad you’re here. Thanks for staying until Wednesday.”

“I wish that I could stay longer, The Reef is transcendingly beautiful. So are you.” he said, tentatively.

She looked at him and smiled coyishly, then lowered her eyelids.

“But I have to get back to prepare to deliver my quarterly update on the economy.” he told her.

As the sun was setting, they strolled to the deck over the water and sat down.

Trinity said, “Tasha was such a strong believer. She attended church services of almost every denomination wherever she was in the world. I know she is will be in God’s eternal presence, but I find it hard to accept why she had to suffer so.”

Reflecting at the water at her feet, she added, “I have to be strong for Janice, but I am afraid for when everyone’s gone, when there is nothing for me to do.”

“I know what you mean.” he said, as he patted her hand that held onto the edge of the deck.

Uncle Fred walked into the living room and said, “Everyone, Father Peter has arrived with Father Andrew from St. Anne’s in Palm Beach.”

George helped Trinity up and they rejoined the others just as Janice came down the stairs. Father Andrew greeted her warmly. She took his hands and kissed his cheek. After he gave his condolence, Father Peter introduced him to everyone else.

“Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us.” Father Peter said. “We ask God to grant Nataliya rest in the bosom of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”

The Funeral

It was a blustery day. Clouds, blown in from the sea, quickly passed over the Island revealing avenues of light through the sky. The melancholy peal of the century old church bell, calling all of the black clad mourners together, could be heard from far away. A cavalcade of cars followed the hearse, which was flanked by police outriders. At the church they were joined by Ministers of State, Ministers from other religious denominations and Diplomats.

Eight doleful pallbearers entered the stained glass windowed church carrying the casket, feet first. They set it down in the west entrance of the gold vaulted temple where two large brass candle stands stood on either side of the door which led into the nave. They waited next to a stand of icons for the Priests and Bishops to assemble. They wore richly ornate vestments, bulbous mitres adorned with icons, crosses suspended from chains and black klobuks. A Deacon carried a Cross and another swung an incense filled thurible which left a trail of smoke behind him.

Hoisting the casket onto their shoulders, again, the pallbearers paused then followed the Celebrants into the nave. The choir filed behind them, singing the Trisagion, ‘Holy God, Holy Mighty, Holy Immortal, have mercy on us.’ The family, lead by Janice, went in after them, each receiving a small candle from a Priest, that was lit from the grand candle manoualias.

The inside of the temple shimmered from the scintillating flickers of the flames along with the multicoloured rays illuminating from the windows. Overhead, a large gold and silver coloured chandelier glimmered with tiny lights. Mosaic lamps hung from chains. It looked like a glorious sunset that Tasha loved to look at.

Moving as one, the pallbearers placed the casket on the catafalque on the solea, the raised three tiered black carpeted platform in front of the icon filled screen that separated the nave from the sanctuary. Trinity recognized the Icons of the Christ, the Virgin Mary and the Christ child, John the Baptist and the Angels Michael and Gabriel.

They laid the casket with her head facing west, and her feet facing east to the Altar, to symbolize that she was standing with her feet in glory. An icon of the Resurrection of the Christ was placed close to the casket as a reminder that they should all be looking forward to the resurrection. Trinity knew that from the Anglican Church. She had attended this Orthodox Church with Tasha before, even a funeral service, but it couldn’t be said that she was familiar with all of their practices. If she thought about it, maybe for someone else, but then her emotions garnered all of her attention, she could only look and listen.

Wreaths of white Camellias and Peonies, Tasha’s favourite flowers, surrounded the pedestal on which the mahogany casket was placed. As befitting Tasha’s noble status, the Grand Duchess Evgenia’s rich cloth pall of the double headed black eagle on a yellow background was draped over the foot of the coffin.

The Trisagion was written on a ribbon on a small wreath that was placed on her forehead, signifying that she was crowned in victory for completing her life’s journey and near her head was an icon of the Christ. In her right hand was a small cross that she had since childhood.

Trinity thought how beautiful Tasha looked. She had put the weight back on and did not look like someone who suffered and died from cancer. Her hair was still a cocoa colour and had grown back from her last chemotherapy treatment and her skin still had the rosy bronze colour that she had in life. She didn’t look like she was sleeping, either, because a sleeping person has no facial expression. Tasha looked like she was daydreaming on a lounger on the beach, thinking about something or someone that made her happy.

A crimson Orarion, which was richly embroidered with crosses, was draped over the Deacon’s left shoulder. He held the end in his right hand and kissed it. As the choir sang, Trinity was fixated on the censer that he held. He swung it to the casket and towards the congregation. The smoke from the incense burning within rose upwards like prayers taken heavenward through the light that emanated from the glass dome.

The Celebrant said, in proxy, as if Tasha were having a conversation with the congregation, “As you see me set before you mute and without breath, weep for me, my brethren, family, and all who know me, for I spoke with you only yesterday, and suddenly the fearful hour of death came upon me. Come, all those who love me and give me the last kiss, for never again shall I journey or talk with you again until the end of time. I ask and implore you all to pray without ceasing for me to Christ our God, that I may not be put into the place of torment because of my sins, but that He may appoint me to a place where there is the light of life.”

The Priest intoned, “Give rest eternal, in blessed falling asleep, O Lord, to the soul of Your servant Nataliya who has departed this life, and make her memory to be eternal.”

Slowly and solemnly the congregation answered, “Memory eternal! Memory eternal! Memory eternal!”

The Prayer of Absolution, which was written on a piece of paper, was read by the Bishop.

“May all those things which have proceeded from the weakness of her mortal nature be consigned to oblivion and be remitted unto her; Through His loving-kindness; through the prayers of our most holy, and blessed, and glorious Lady, the Mother of our Lord and ever-virgin Mary; of the holy, glorious and all-laudable Apostles and of all the Saints. Amen.” he said.

Then he rolled the paper up and placed it in her right hand. There was no eulogy, no ‘As I knew her’ statements. Unexpectedly, Trinity liked that. She couldn’t bear to hear about her then and she couldn’t partake in their Holy Communion, because she was not Orthodox. She didn’t mind that, either.

Before the family, other mourners filed past the casket to view her body and pay their last respects. Some passed quickly, not wanting to see her lying in a casket, but felt duty bound by tradition. Most paused, bowed and kissed the Cross or the icon of The Christ near her head.

Trinity made the sign of the Cross then put her left hand on the crown of her head. She kissed Tasha’s brow. She covered her left hand with her right. In it she slipped a pale blue silk pouch which contained the ‘diamond’ bauble.

“Take care of it.” she whispered in her right ear as she rested her brow on Tasha’s forehead. “Take care of it until I see you again and it is my turn.”

Then she kissed Tasha’s cheek and continued to hold her hand until Janice made her way to the casket. Escorted by Fred, she trembled with each footstep as she approached. She put her hands out on the casket to steady herself before she fell to her knees. Captain Issam was quickly at her side and he and Fred helped her up. As Issam’s tears flooded his eyes, he took a handkerchief out of his jacket breast pocket and wiped them.

Up until then, Trinity swallowed her pain and kept her tears hidden, but hearing Janice caused it to burst out from her constricted throat and she groaned. George wanted to go to her, but he didn’t want to cause any impropriety. Issam stepped back from the casket, leaving Janice with Uncle Fred and walked over to her. She looked up and he could see the tears falling down her face. He put his arms around her and they cried together.

Jase supported Nica as they walked away from the casket. Her shoulders shook and she stopped. She turned around and walked back to her casket.

“Goddie,” she said, “watch over me. Help me. I can’t do it without you.” she sobbed.

“Come.” Jase said, guiding her away.

The Priest, accompanied by a chanter anointed Tasha’s body by pouring a small amount of olive oil and herbs over her heart. Then he poured a few grains of sun coloured sand on her which Captain Issam collected from behind The Reef.

The Choir sang in dirge, “Come now, brethren, let us go, let us leave one final kiss with the dead. For she has vanished from among us and now proceeds to the grave. No longer is she mindful of days or troubled with the suffering of the flesh. Where is her family now? Where are the friends that she knew? For she is divided from among them, let us pray the Lord to grant her rest!

What is this division, O brethren, this wailing and weeping of an hour? Let us kiss who was with us yesterday, the one whom we go now to inter, the one whom we cover with a stone, the one who takes up her abode in the gloom, the one who takes her place with the dead, the one who is taken from her friends, the one divided from her family, let us pray the Lord to grant her rest!

Now is life's artful triumph of vanities destroyed for from its tabernacle the spirit has flown! The vessel lies shattered, the clay grows black, voiceless, feelingless, motionless and dead, the one whom we go now to inter. Let us pray the Lord to grant her rest!

With what may we compare this life a flower, a vapor, an early morning mist? Come O people. Let us look at the grave! Where is the beauty of youth? Where are the eyes that we knew? Where are the hands that we clasped? So soon we perish like the grass of the field. Let us therefore bathe the feet of Christ with our tears!

Such weeping, wailing, sighing surrounds the soul's departure, such agony and hell and destruction, though life is but a shadow an illusion, a dream that we cling to, one must leave the earth to rise to heavenly things.

So come then, brethren, let us go, let us bear her upon our shoulders and feel the heaviness of all things earthly, the weight her soul no longer could bear. Let us carry her body to the grave and carry her living memory in our hearts! Grant rest to your servant, O Lord! Grant rest to your servant, O Lord! Grant rest to your servant, O Lord, and in your mercy, soothe our sorrows!”

The Priest said, “As we look upon our dead sister before us, let us receive an example of our last moment. For she is left from the earth like smoke. She has been cut down like grass. She has been clothed in rags, and will be covered with earth. Leaving her hidden from sight, let us pray to Christ to give her rest forever.

When the soul is about to be carried off by force by the fearsome angels, it forgets all of its family and those it knows, and is mindful of standing before the coming judgment of its folly and fleshly toil. Come, let us all implore the Judge, and pray that the Lord will pardon the sins she has committed.

Come, O brethren, let us see the dust and ashes in the grave from which we were formed. Where now are we going? And what shall we become? What has become of the poor man and the rich man? What has become of the master or the free man? Are they all not ashes? The beauty of the face has turned to dust and death has withered up the flower of youth.

The illusions and the things of glory of this life are truly folly and corruption. For all of them will end and we all shall die: kings and princes, judges and rulers, the rich and the poor, and every kind of mortal man. Now for those who in life were committed to the grave, let us pray that the Lord will grant them rest.

Now all the organs of the body are seen to be idle, that a short while ago were active. All are still, dead, without feeling. For the eyes are closed, the feet are bound. The hands are still, and the ears hear not. The tongue is enclosed in silence. She is committed to the grave. Truly, all human accomplishments are vanity.

Save those who hope in you, O Mother of God, O mother of the never-setting Sun. Ask Him Who is exceedingly good in your prayers we implore you, that He will grant repose where the souls of the righteous rest to her who has departed. Present her an heir of divine blessings, O most pure One, in the courts of the righteous in eternal remembrance.”

As the bells rang out, again, slowly and solemnly, the casket was closed. Janice and Nica cried unceasingly. Their wails echoed in the temple. The Pallbearers raised the casket onto their shoulders and majestically carried it to the hearse which led the cortege to the cemetery. On arrival, the Priests led the procession of the congregation into the cemetery overlooking Lake Cunningham.

As the remains were set into the grave, he said, “Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto ages of ages. Amen.”

He spread sand in the sign of the cross on the casket then the mourners placed flowers on it. They each filed by Janice.

“Memory eternal.” they said. “May her memory be eternal.”

They returned to The Reef. Christ ate fish after His resurrection and it is a symbol of Christianity so the kitchen prepared a traditional mercy meal of snapper filets, parsley and butter potatoes, oven roasted potatoes and asparagus or string beans with toasted almonds. They also had simple almond and butter cookies, tea and coffee.

The ladies from the church prepared Kolivo, made from boiled wheat kernels, honey, raisins, almonds and pomegranate and decorated with her initials and the Cross in powered sugar. Lit candles were placed in it and it was blessed by the priest during the Divine Liturgy in the church and brought to the house. It was a reminder of the bitter and sweet of life. It was served as the last course of the meal.

Janice retreated to her suite.

Uncle Fred told Trinity, “It is too much for her, right now. You are going to have to be with the people downstairs. I’ll come down shortly.”

“Should I send up some food? She hasn’t been eating.”

“Yes, I’ll try to get her to eat something.” Uncle Fred answered.

She sighed deeply.

“OK, I’ll send something for both of you.” she said.

Fred kissed her cheek.

“Thank you.” he said.

Part 2

The Reading of the Will

A month later, Aunt Janice, Trinity and Nica were summoned to Tasha’s Attorney’s office for the reading of the Will.

“Mum, we have to go.”

Trinity didn’t care. She did not want to go.

“You’ve not shown up twice already. How can I tell them you are not coming, again?”

“You and Aunt Janice go without me. Why do I have to go?”

“Mum, you know we are not going without you.”

“Nica, I am not ready yet. I can’t deal with that now.”

But she saw that Nica was becoming impatient with her and she did not want any further burden on her because she too lost someone dear to her and Aunt Janice was suffering most of all. Trinity reluctantly dressed and followed them out of the door. At the Attorney’s office she sat, impatient to leave and return to her bedroom.

“My condolences to all of you.” said Tasha’s Attorney, Mr. Stanley Callander as he shook their hands and guided them to the conference table.

Nica sat between Aunt Janice and her mother, holding both of their hands throughout.

Mr. Callander began, “All having concern with the estate of Ms. Nataliya Norman Romanova, also known as Tasha Ovsianico of New Providence have assembled as per her last wish and direction.”

He played the video of the execution of the will. Janice started to cry. She was caught off guard.

“I’m sorry, I should have warned you. I’ll stop it until you are ready.”

Nica put her arms around her. Trinity reached for a tissue in her bag and got up from her chair. She came around the table and gave it to Janice. She poured some water and gave it to Janice then put her arms around her shoulder. Janice made an audible sound as she gulped the water down.

“You are so thirsty. Drink some more while we watch.”

“It’s OK, you can start.” said Janice to Mr. Callander.

Trinity went back to her chair. She promised that she was going to look after Janice better. She didn’t remember the last time she saw Janice eat or drink anything. She looked out of the window. She didn’t want to look at the video. She knew that she would soon start crying, too.

“I, Nataliya Norman Ovsianico Romanova, also known as Tasha Ovsianico and Tasha Beeson, declare that this is my last will and testament. I hereby revoke, annul and cancel all wills and codicils previously made by me, either jointly or severally. I declare that I am of legal age to make this will, and that I am sound of mind. This last will expresses my wishes without undue influence or duress.

To my Mother, Mrs. Janice Ovsianico Romanova, also known as Janice Ovsianico, I bequeath The Gemological Group (Inclusive of mines, stockpiles, diamond, ruby and sapphire manufacturing, malls, real estate, residences etc), a company incorporated and registered in Nassau, New Providence, The Islands of the Bahamas should she survive me; otherwise the ownership of the Gemological Group shall pass instead to Mrs. Nicola Paget Weech, also known as Ms. Nica Weech and Ms. Nica Paget, should she survive Ms. Janice Ovsianico and myself.

The remainder of my estate, including the contents of the accounts and the freehold of the property at the Bank of Britannia, the yacht, The Pearl and the airplane, The Aurora are left to Mrs. Trinity Paget should she survive me; otherwise the contents of the accounts and the freehold of the property of the Bank of Britannia, the yacht, The Pearl and the airplane, The Aurora shall pass instead to Mrs. Nicola Paget Weech, also known as Ms. Nica Weech and Ms. Nica Paget, should she survive Mrs. Trinity Paget and myself.

My mother, Mrs. Janice Ovsianico Romanova has already been provided for to her satisfaction, however, should she demand funds from any account or gold or platinum, piece of art or jewelry, or the use of The Pearl, The Aurora or The Reef, she shall be given them immediately. She is also to reside at my residence, ‘The Reef’, for the rest of her natural life then ownership shall go to Ms. Nicola Paget Weech. I know that Mrs. Trinity Paget and Ms. Nicola Paget Weech will comply.

My mother is also to be named undisputed and unchallenged Chairman of The Nataliya Romanova Foundation for as long as she lives or until such time as she relinquishes the position of her own free will.

I leave the stables in Palm Beach to Mr. Bernard ‘Benny’ Jean-Charles. At this time, Mrs. Janice Ovsianico will carry out executive decisions concerning the running of the stable until such time as she deems it necessary to give him full ownership.

I hereby nominate, constitute and appoint Frederick Jasper Sands as Executor. If this Executor is unable or unwilling to serve, then I appoint Gene Issam as alternate Executor. This is my last will and testament.”

Trinity heard them in the background as she stared out of the window. She could see that there was a slight gust of breeze shaking the leaves of the flamboyant red Flame of the Forest and the en tremblant petals of the pink and white Frangipanis. They were magnificently in full bloom. Then she looked across the lawn at the children coming out of the park. She remembered when she and Tasha were in school at that same age.

“Finally,” Mr. Callander continued reading, “Mrs. Janice Ovsianico, Mrs. Trinity Paget and Mrs. Nicola Paget Weech are each to be presented with a sealed envelope for their eyes only.”

Mr. Callander came around the table and gave an envelope to each.

She heard Nica ask, “Mum, are you ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready.” replied Trinity.

Nica put her arm out for Janice to take as they walked to the entrance of the building where the driver waited for them. When they arrived home, Trinity put the letter on the table outside on her bedroom’s balcony. She looked out to the sea that Tasha loved so much. She was brought a pot of Jasmine Green Tea. She opened up the envelope. The letter was hand written and it read:

My Dearest Friend, My Chosen Sister,

How can I ever thank you for what you have done for me? I know that I would not have gotten this far without you. You made my life so bearable, but, I know that it is quickly coming to an end. Can I ask you for one more thing? When I told My Love every thing, he understood and he still loved me anyway. He means so much to me.

You would have by now, received the ownership of some of my accounts. I know that you have probably not checked them as yet…… (Yes, I know you).

My Love has never asked me for a penny. But, I am asking you to give the $37,000,000 plus the interest earned in my CitiTrust account to him. It is on a fixed deposit and it won’t be available for another 8 months. Since, the money has been sitting on that account for nearly 25 years, the interest should be considerable by now. Give it all to him for me, please. He would not have taken it from me while I am still alive. It is not a loan. It is a gift.

He can do whatever he wants with it. But, if he wants to, I had a business plan drawn up to start a Jet Service (no pun intended) that you will find on my computer. You know all the passwords. Ask him if he would like to have it. Ask him, too, if he would consider naming it ProJets (like Project) and his nickname is Jet. Get it….I know….still lame. It is my little last laugh.

The money in this account was a pay off by Mr. Beeson to keep me quiet and grant him a quick divorce. I never touched it. If he had answered me and accepted my apology, I would have sent it all back to him. Instead, give it from the man who did not love me to the man who could love me no other way than who I am, Gene ‘Jet’ Issam. That is my BIG last laugh. I know you will appreciate the poetic justice in that. My only small regret is that I did not have the love of my life for just a little longer.

I love you,

Nataliya Norman Ovsianico Romanova

“Tasha”

Gene Issam

Gene Issam is an American born in Morocco. His mother was born in Bray, Ireland but grew up in West Virginia since her parents immigrated there. His father was of French Canadian descent born in Texas. Also an expert jet pilot, his father was in the United States Air Force, stationed in Morocco training pilots at the flight school there.

Gene earned his pilot’s license at age seventeen then attended West Virginia University. He received his Bachelor’s in physics and mathematics. He continued with his studies in aviation and went to flight school, where he received a Master’s degree in Aviation, Aeronautical and Astronautical Engineering. He joined the Air Force, as well, specializing in Jet Propulsion and was stationed in Germany in December 2003 when he got the call to deploy to Iraq. In an operation called Operation Red Dawn, he flew reconnaissance as the hand picked leader of the dream team that defended the ground troops during the capture of Saddam Hussein from a hole about eight feet deep at a remote farmhouse near Tikrit. Over sand, desert and mountains he flew that precious cargo very quickly to Camp Cropper in Baghdad. He remembered that Saddam smelled like a goat and fear.

Gene earned the nickname, ‘Jet’, because of the number of toy jets he had as a child. He showed no interest in any other type of toy. His mother told him that it was one of the first words that he spoke. She kept all of his toy jets and he found them carefully wrapped and boxed when he went back to the house after she died. Since then, he always had one of them tied to his brief case. It would invariably cause another pilot to ask him what it was and it always led to a long conversation about jets. Everyone knew that if you wanted to know something about a jet….just ask Jet.

After his tour of duty, he was scouted to work for Aviation Works and it was there that they first met. He introduced himself to her when she had the case in Dubai. He was professional, but warm. Trinity was with Tasha on that flight. Tasha denied it, but Trinity knew that that was when Cupid’s thunderbolt arrow shot Tasha in the chest, right into her heart. There was a visible change in her continence. She gasped then exhaled through softly pursed lips.

When, by chance, he flew her to another case, he sat down with her during briefing. They spoke a little about the flight and the time of arrival. Tasha told him that she flew as part of her job. He never asked her what her job was. He flew many ordinary people because their employers sent them here or there. They were not allowed to say who they were travelling for, so this was not a big thing to him. They enjoyed talking to each other and Tasha said to herself that he was so sweet and she did remember him.

She found out that she could request a particular pilot if the schedule would allow. Many people did. It made her trips more tolerable to have a familiar face with her on those long sojourns. Gradually, they talked more and more, nothing personal while he worked, he was very professional there, but sometimes, both he and Tasha had to sit and wait for the plane to be cleaned and readied for their flight. They would enjoy a coffee in a kiosk or walk around. This time, they were both in the jetport at the same time, but he was not flying her.

“I wanted to fly all of my life. My father used to take me to the airport to show me the planes taking off and landing. I remember it like yesterday. He died just after I got my license when I was seventeen. He was a great father.”

“My father passed away when I was young, as well. He died after being stung by a spider while working on a bridge in Panama. My mother lives on the Island.”

“Are you married?”

“I am divorced with no children. And you?”

“Same here.”

“Where are you from?”

“I went to college in West Virginia, but I was born in Morocco. I live in New York, now. Where are you from?”

“I was born in Florida, I have a townhouse in New York, but I consider The Bahamas as my home.”

Jet’s phone vibrated. He was being called to the jet.

“I enjoy our chats. If you chose me the next time you fly and if your schedule permits it, would you consider having dinner with me?”

“Yes. I would love to.” she answered.

Days after her last flight with him, she kept thinking about him. Then her fears got the better of her. She could not deny that she really liked him and she wanted to tell him that. He would have to know. She did not want to risk going through the emotional trauma of being rejected, again. This fear crippled her. She decided that she was not going to encourage any personal feelings from him, anymore.

She saw him again, when they were both sitting in the VIP area of the jetport in New York.

“Remember, you agreed to have dinner with me.”

“Yes, I did.” she answered, nervously.

“I will be in London for a few weeks. I’m on a break so I thought I might as well make a vacation of it. Are you going to be in London any time soon?”

“Yes, I can be. I will be in Spain for about a week then I am done.”

“Would you like to go to dinner and theater when you are done?”

“Yes. I’d like that.” she answered.

As the agreed upon day arrived she was nervous. Over dinner, timidly, she told him everything. He asked some questions. He didn’t flinch. They had a normal conversation about it. He told her that he understood.

The next day, they walked through SoHo, had lunch in China Town and later went to a tapas bar just off Piccadilly. Together they set a plan to meet.

When they did meet again, he told her, “I was not a very good husband. I was flying all over the world. I wasn’t home a lot and my wife said that she was going to leave me. I left the Air Force to take up a position with Aviation Works so that at least I could be closer to home and could go home when I wasn’t flying, but that didn’t work. After a while it was obvious that we had both lost the desire to stay married.”

He continued, “I drank a lot at that time, too. Nothing that my employers noticed, but it was too much. My wife found someone else. The night she told me that, I was drunk. I hit her. I couldn’t believe that I did that to her. I had promised to love and protect her, and I was doing neither at the time. I granted her a divorce and here I am.”

It was coincidental that she was already thinking of buying a jet.

She asked, “What type of plane would you fly if your family were on board, if money were no object?”

He pulled up a photo on his iPad and told her all about the Boeing 757 jet plane. She made a mental note.

Then some months later, unbeknownst to him, Tasha got her plane.

“Would you consider flying for me?” she asked him.

“What do you mean, ‘fly for you’?”

She told him the rest of the story. She asked, “Would you like to run my jet service?”

He left his position at Aviation Works and went to work as her pilot, just to be near her. He learned the value of that to a marriage. That’s how they found each other; really found each other.

Tasha was contracted by The Louvre Museum in Paris to authenticate a parure of jewels, offered for sale, allegedly owned by Empress Josephine. She lived from 1763 to 1814 and was the first wife of Napoleon I and first Empress of the French before he divorced her in 1810 because she could not bear him children.

Before The Louvre Museum would pay for them, Tasha had to determine their provenance. She discovered that the parure held old jewels cut in the style of the day. The gemstones were real, but the lack of tool marks like those used in the 17th century made the manufacture of the frames suspect. After metallurgic testing of the frames she confirmed that they were not 18th or early 19th century. The tool marks on the frames were made by modern machinery. They were early 20th century. So they couldn’t have been the property of the Empress.

Afterwards, poor weather meant that she could not fly out. They checked into a hotel. She deliberately checked her crew and assistant into one part of the hotel and she stayed in another. She invited Jet to come to her suite for dinner.

“Will you stay the night?” she nervously asked him.

Then she was blissfully happy.

Dear Mama,

I love you with all of my heart. One of my regrets is that I did not have children, that I did not give you Grand children. That was due to my condition and I have tried to make you understand that you are not at fault for that.

You have always been the most loving and gentle mother that any one could hope for. Throughout my life you supported me and encouraged me to be who ever I wanted to be and I cannot thank you enough for that.

By Papa’s will and by me, you will never want for anything for the rest of your life. I know, though, that you have your charities and things you do for people and I hope that you continue on with that. I have left the Consortium to you as we discussed because you can run it. Please continue to teach Nica so that she can be prepared to take over, eventually. I don’t want you to have to worry about it a minute longer than you have to because of what I want for you.

What I really want to tell you Mama is that Fred is a very good man. He and I talked about this. He cares for you very much and I know that you care for him, too. Please Mama, give your self the joy of being with him. You have been given a second chance at love. Papa was always gone for so long. That was due to his work and it couldn’t be helped. He provided a very good life for us.

But now, Mama, don’t stop your life. You deserve to be happy. Fred wants to be with you. I want you to be happy. Don’t grieve for me, Mama. We will see each other again.

I am your grateful child. I love you,

Tasha

The Bank

“Trinity, I know that your friendship was really important to Tasha. You have been her loyal friend throughout her life. You have done everything that she has asked of you. Tasha and I talked about how she wanted to distribute her assets. My husband left me millions when he died. The Gemological Consortium brings in nearly half a billion in profit every year. Right now, in my bank account, there is so much money that I will never get to spend, no matter how hard I try, in ten lifetimes. When I die it all goes to Nica. Both of you have treated me with respect and have included me in all aspects of your lives, like family should do.”

“I have been blessed. I want to enjoy the rest of my life with your Uncle Fred. He and I have decided that we just want to sit a spell and enjoy each other’s company. Maybe we’ll do a little bit of travelling or what ever and the quicker that Nica gets up to speed, the quicker I can retire.”

“Okay, Aunt Janice.”

“And, don’t forget, that I am Chairman of the Board, so deciding who gets endowments is very important to us. Fred is overseeing the building of the Geriatrics Hospital and there are some other immediate plans that we have to carry out but, after that, we are just going to chill.”

“Aunt Janice, what do you know about ‘chillin’?”

“Fred taught me.”

Trinity and Nica had to meet with George Ponsby in London. Seeing as they had not seen the collection as yet, Trinity thought that it was a great time for Aunt Janice, Uncle Fred, Nica and Jase to see the jewels, as well. The driver picked them up from the airport and they arrived quickly at Claridges. They spent the rest of the day relaxing.

The following day, they set out for the bank just before noon. They walked straight from their car, up the elevator and straight through to Mr. Ponsby’s office. As usual, he was charming, but professional.

“Good Afternoon, Trinity,” he said beaming.

Whenever she saw him, he looked more and more like Pearce Brosnan, Mr. Bond.

“Hello George. How have you been?” she asked.

“It is good to see you, again.” he said with a wide smile.

Working for a bank where multi billion dollar transactions are sometimes negotiated like a game of poker, he tried not to betray his emotions, but he couldn’t help showing how glad he was to see her.

“How are you, Janice?” he asked holding her hand in his. “And, Fred, how are you?”

“Would you kindly join us to see the collection?”

“It would be my honour. Please come this way.”

He took them through a maze of rooms and hallways, some that Trinity remembered and some she did not. The key elements set the safe door open again. It seemed to Trinity more dazzling than before.

“Oh, Wow.” said Nica.

Mr. Ponsby said, “Yep. That sums it up perfectly”.

Nica did her research and found out that his employment history was impeccable.

She told them, “He graduated from The London School of Economics and Oxford University. Unexpectedly, he spent many years teaching at Harvard with his young family with him. He is shrewd, but honest and a straight arrow.”

“He goes to his country house in Surrey on Thursday afternoons and returns on Monday mornings to his apartments in the same building as the bank. He has two sons, Gerald, fifteen years old, is a student at Eaton and Alex, seventeen years old is at Caius College, Cambridge studying medicine. They are said to be close and have a very loving relationship. Mr. Ponsby married Hortense Granville when they were both young and she was studying Languages and he, Finance.”

“There have been no scandals about him, no affairs and no skeletons. By all accounts, he loved his wife deeply and there are no reports of him straying even when she became bed bound after suffering a series of strokes. However, she died eight years ago.”

He said, “I am glad that you accepted my invitation to have lunch.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” said Trinity.

Before they sat down for lunch, he said, “We have noticed no activity on the accounts. There is the matter of how these funds are going to be set up in portfolios and wealth management. Do you intend moving the funds from this bank?”

Nica told him, “No. A decision has not been made on that, as yet. My godmother directed that everything remain status quo for one year. The funds have remained here for nearly one hundred years, already, so one more would not make a difference.”

Nica smiled at the Governor, while looking over her glasses, she said, “We are quite aware that the interest the bank makes on the deposit is considerable.”

The Governor, genuinely, warmly smiled back.

“Also, there is the matter of what to do with the rest of the collection. Many pieces were returned to her after they were recovered. They are in a safe on the Island. As other litigations go forward, we expect to receive them, as well. We hope to exhibit the artwork and furniture that will be recovered in a museum that has exceptional security. We don’t want what happened at The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston to happen to us.”

“May I ask what happened there?” asked Mr. Ponsby.

“Thieves, dressed as Policemen, walked in and walked out with some of the most valuable artwork of all time. They have never been recovered.”

“That is why a lot of people still keep their artwork deep in bank vaults.” he answered.

“I also hope to be very proficient with the administration of the funds, the gold and platinum reserves and the foundation as it was requested by my godmother. So, during the up coming year, I will research all of our investment options. Will you do me the honour of being my advisor? I am still young in this field and would like to have your knowledge and integrity guide me in the next few years if you would?”

The Governor, a sincerely kind man, looked over at Trinity, who smiled at him.

He puffed up with pride and said, “I am flattered, thank you, however, as the Governor, I cannot act as a personal advisor, now. However, I have tendered my resignation, but I have been asked to remain for another year. After that, if it is still a consideration, it would be my honour to do so.”

“That works out better since the hold on the account is for one year.” Nica replied.

“When you emailed your choice off the menu from Green Kanna we went ahead and ordered, already. Please join me in the atrium on the top floor. I took the liberty of having lunch set up for us, there. It would be more private. The restaurant is Michelin starred and even though conveniently just down the street, they are always too crowded to have any meaningful discussion there. Please follow me.” he said gesturing and leading the way.

The room was beautiful. They ate. They talked. Trinity was even more attracted to him. She watched him. She liked his soothing manner, the way he smelled - fresh and cuddly -, the broadness of his hands, his full head of salt and pepper hair, his suit and tie, his shoes and his twinkling eyes. He looked so young, so boyish. She just liked him. She heard nothing except his voice. She hadn’t realized before, but he spoke with neither a British nor an American accent.

“Mr. Ponsby, please tell us everything about the account.” Nica asked.

Mr. Ponsby started, “I’ll give you a back story that will help you understand the relationship that this bank has with you. The Tsar’s sister, The Grand Duchess Evgenia Romanova saw the need to have some of her jewels, money, gold bars and art etc. transferred to this bank. However, to do that a whole set of rooms were needed to hold everything. The bank, at its then location, was not a suitable place. So, she bought the property that the bank now stands on and had the rooms build with ten foot thick walls. Then she paid for the building of the bank around these rooms.”

“Once the rooms were complete a locksmith in Russia, with The Grand Duchess’ specification, built the safes that sit inside these rooms. She then had the finest woodcrafters from Italy outfit the safes with cabinets and furniture. The safes themselves have four foot thick walls. They were brought to London and sailed up the Thames, in 2,943 pieces.”

He took a sip of water then said, “When you were in those rooms, I’m sure you didn’t realize that you were actually in a series of safes. That is a testament as to how exquisite the craftsmanship is. I would have liked to have shared that with Ms. Ovsianico as well, but….” his voice trailed off.

“Yes. That would have been interesting to her.” said Trinity assuredly.

“Once ready”, continued Mr. Ponsby, “everything was installed and inventoried. The Grand Duchess visited the completed room then and only once more nine years later, in 1926, to add additional pieces. After that, the room was locked and never opened again. She never came back to see it, even though she was billed for and paid the annual service fees for its upkeep. The inventory documents are in my office. I will give them to you when we are finished our lunch.”

Trinity thought it sad that Tasha had only seen the collection once, herself, when she got sick. One of the reasons for this trip was to allow the photography of the pieces.

“Each Governor before me, and including me, has been apprised of what to do when the day came that the collection and account were claimed. It is with some personal satisfaction that it was on my watch. Only the Chairman of the Board and I know the full history. Each outgoing Governor or Chairman informs the incoming Governor or Chairman.”

“Here’s the thing. The Grand Duchess owned the property and the building. She agreed that we could have a rent free lease for 100 years, with her estate having the option to start charging rent to the bank, allow us to buy the property and the building or evict us. I am sure that the decision to allow the bank a rent free one hundred year lease is because there is no where else as secure as a bank, so it was advantageous to her, as well.”

“Dictators, Kings and Governments come and go, but banks stay put. That lease agreement will run out in the next twenty four months, which is one of the reasons I asked you here today. As you can imagine we have a vested interest in this building, a lot has gone on here. Ms. Romanova inherited this property and the building and now you, Mrs. Paget, own them. The bank is due to start paying you rental fees or purchase the property from you. We would like to purchase it, with the proviso that the collection can stay, here, for as long as you wish, with no further service fees.”

Trinity’s hands fell to her lap. Nica’s hands still held her knife and fork, mid air, motionless. Head unmoved, she looked over to Aunt Janice and Uncle Fred, who were both silent, across the table. Mr. Ponsby was still eating, happily, until he noticed that none of them were saying a word. They were just looking at him with their mouths still trying to chew food that their brains had forgotten to give it directions on how to do.

They continued eating in silence for a few minutes. Nica took a sip of her wine and then said, “So, let me get this right. She bought prime real estate, built safes on it, built the bank around them, did not charge you rent, deposited nearly three billion pounds in accounts, stowed away priceless jewels and art in your vaults, let you use the gold reserves, but you sent her an annual service fee bill?”

Trinity choked. She took a big sip of water, put her napkin to her mouth and guffawed.

“Sorry,” she chortled.

“Don’t be sorry. It is incredulous, but that question proves that Ms. Romanova made the right decision in leaving Nica in charge.”

“Yes, she did. Yes, she did.” said Trinity, proudly.

“Anyway, other than the cheque that she remitted annually and the one time that she came back to add additional pieces, she totally ignored us and there was nothing that we could do about it.”

“Did Tasha know about this?” asked Trinity.

“I spoke with Ms. Romanova a few times about this after she went back home.”

“She probably didn’t remember.” said Janice looking at Trinity.

After they finished lunch, Aunt Janice and Uncle Frank were led to a very comfortable sofa in Mr. Ponsby office for coffee. After a further discussion of the estate, Nica asked Mr. Ponsby if he would join them for dinner later.

“Thank you, yes. As a matter of fact, I was going to ask you the same. I was wondering if you would, considering that it was not scheduled in advance.”

“Great, would you meet us at Green Kanna at seven? Their menu looks wonderful, we would like to try some more.”

Dinner was superb. Trinity and George were tuned in only to each other, like school children with their first crush.

Jase said to Nica, “Look at that waiter over there, doesn’t he look like Uncle Fred?”

“Where?” she asked

“He’s gone through the door, now. Maybe, he’ll come back out then I will point him out to you.”

After they finished dinner and was leaving the restaurant, George held Trinity back a little. Every one sensed this and walked on ahead to wait for the car.

Jase said, pointing to the man he saw earlier, “There’s that waiter that looks like Uncle Fred, again. He is just stepping into that car.”

“Oh yeah, it’s uncanny, isn’t it?”

George asked Trinity, “Can you return to London as my guest, in my home?”

Trinity told him, “I would love to, very much. But, let me think about that carefully.”

He kissed her hand and her cheek. Trinity’s driver pulled up and George opened the door for the ladies. Right behind their car was George’s driver. He got in, but he didn’t want to leave her.

He said to himself, “If it is God’s will, she will return”.

In the car, Nica said, “Uncle Fred, we just saw a man that looks exactly like you.”

“He must be a handsome devil, then.” said Aunt Janice, kissing Uncle Fred’s hand.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Uncle Fred said, not particularly interest in the revelation.

They all flew back to the Island the next morning.

The Acquisitions Committee, of the bank, recommended that they buy the building outright as opposed to leasing it. Even still, they were in a bind because the estate could decide not to sell the property or building to them or they could command exorbitant rental fees. He had addressed this issue when he was Vice President fifteen years prior so the Board was collectively already aware of the conditions. They all agreed that the decision to not acquire the ownership of the property and building, from the Grand Duchess, when the bank was originally built was not a good one.

The deadline as stipulated by the Grand Duchess’ estate gave them little time in relation to the change in status. George listened as a committee member read a statement of the valuation of the property which included the purchase price and hiring agreements of comparable properties near by. He already knew what the valuation was. His mind drifted to Trinity. He looked out of the window at the London skyline. He remembered that she was distracted with the same view when he first met her.

Nica

After Nica graduated from Princeton University with her masters in Finance and Economics, she sat her Certified Public Accounting (CPA), Chartered Financial Analyst (CFA) and Trust and Estate Practitioner (TEP) exams, which she got on first tries. It was the best decision to stay in graduate school. Many people would have doubted her ability to do that, if they did not know her, but Tasha knew that she could and would do it. As her godmother saw it, she was the natural choice to administer her estate.

However, Trinity was concerned that it was too much of a responsibility to put on such a young person’s shoulders, but when she and Tasha were discussing financial matters, one could only be amazed at the depth of knowledge that she had, although she was glad that Tasha put a hold on everything for one year. She did this just before Nica got married.

Nica understood why, too. Part of it was to give her and Jase the time to enjoy themselves without being burdened with decisions, to be able to experience life like newlyweds. Jase had to complete his residency in Roanoke, Virginia. Luckily, Lance, his friend from medical school also accepted his residency there. He and his wife, Jillian, became close friends with them. They were all grateful to have each other near by for support in a new environment for all of them.

During that time Nica researched everything she would need to know to run the foundation, but she was scared of the prospects. She was afraid that she would fail. Then people would use her name when talking about great financial failures; Charles Ponzi, Enron, Bernie Madoff, MC Hammer then Nica Weech. It was all just too much.

One night, when Jase was on duty at the hospital, she had a sudden feeling of overwhelming fear. That wasn’t the first time it happened. The first ones came without warning the week after Tasha died and it was happening again. She was now having panic attacks about having a sudden panic attack.

She was chicken-shit scared. She was sweating, her heart rate increased, the room spun and she was dizzy. She found the lowest point in the room and stayed there. Half an hour later she began to feel normal again. The room stopped spinning. The hot flashes stopped. She began to breathe better.

She decided that she would do what her father did. He said that, sometimes, he had panic attacks, too. But, he was very involved in yoga and meditation. When she was younger, she used to practice Yoga and meditation with him, but she found it boring. She thought to herself that maybe she should try again.

She knew that she could handle her Goddie’s fortune. She also knew that Goddie was no fool and would not have left her as ultimate heir of her fortune if she felt she was not worthy. She was just afraid of the doubts that crept up on her in quiet moments when her defenses were down.

Jase had gotten a rare weekend off from his duties at the hospital. She waited for him to walk through the door that late Thursday night. He had been on duty from the Wednesday morning. Over brunch the next day she told him about the attacks that she was having.

“I’ve started having really bad panic attacks.”

“Since when?”

“Since Goddie died.”

“Didn’t you tell me that your father had panic attacks? What do you feel like when you are having them?”

“Like there is an elephant sitting on my chest. The room spins. There is this nervousness inside me.”

“When was the last one?”

“Yesterday.”

“OK. I’ll call my colleague. Both of us are due for check ups anyway. If she can see us today, we’ll go.”

Jase knew the medical implications immediately, but so as not to frighten Nica right then, he did not go into detail about his concern.

Dr. Andrea Peterson, a cardiologist told Jase to come to her office right away. She took a complete history from Nica.

She told them, “The exact causes of panic attacks and panic disorder are still not all together clear. We do know that there is a tendency for the attacks to run in families. There are also proven life stressors that can precipitate the start of or triggering of attacks for the first time or the worsening of already occurring attacks. Life stressors such as: graduating from university, entering the work field, great financial responsibilities, marriage, death, moving and family history. You have experienced all of these in the last few months.”

Dr. Peterson continued, “We also know that purely medical and physical conditions can cause panic attacks. The causes can be cardiac in nature or caused by thyroid disorders or low blood sugar medication side effects. Let’s run some labs and imaging.”

“Honey, lets do everything today.”

“Jase, I don’t want you to be stuck in a Doctor’s office running tests all day. This is your first weekend off for over two months.”

“We are doing it, today.”

“Okay.” she said in defeat.

Both physicians understood the urgency. Nica’s father died very young from an undertreated heart condition that he thought was just panic attacks.

While they were waiting, Nica told Jase about a conversation that she had with Trinity on her last visit home. Jase already knew about the chip that Aunt Janice, Trinity, Nica, Uncle Fred and he had to have, but no one liked the thought of it. They all had to go to Dr. Leo Kassel, the oral surgeon, who had been treating her family members for years. Nica arranged with him to liaise with the security firm that manufactured the chip. She trusted him. The transponder chip emits a low frequency signature that can trigger pre-programmed actions like sending an emergency message from your phone or finding your location by the Global Positioning System.

Nica told her, “You have to have a security chip inserted. Goddie left instructions about that and the chips will be brought next month by a representative of the security firm that works with the bank.”

“I remember Tasha telling me to have it done, but really? Why?”

“Because, the risk of kidnapping is a reality and if it happened, our location could be tracked by a GPS service. Mum, this is really important. Aunt Janice, Uncle Fred, Jase and I all need to have it done. Also, it will carry a code to allow you, me and Aunt Janice to access the safe and the accounts at the Bank of London, because I am going to change the access protocol. We are going to install the security measures for the accounts here on the Island as well as the ones in New York.”

“And where is this chip going to be placed again? In my mouth?”

“Yes, in your gum tissue under local anesthetics.”

“Why in the gum?”

“So that if anyone gets the idea to scan you, maybe to see if you have any security chips, they won’t see it because it would look just like a filling, an implant or a cap on a tooth. And the scanner would be fooled into thinking that metal fillings in the teeth were the cause of any indications from the scanner.”

“How many kidnappers have a scanner?”

“Mum, get into the 21st Century. You would be surprised what people would do for our kind of money.”

“Won’t I feel that in there?”

“It is the size of a grain of rice. Goddie said she never felt it.”

“When is this to be done?”

“Dr. Kassel is waiting to receive the chips. They are being brought to the Island by one of the security company’s rep. The rep will bring a scanner as well. Everything should be ready in about a month or so. They’ll let us know when everything is ready.”

Cali and Uncle Howard

When Trinity returned to the Island she was contacted by the investigators of the deaths of Cali and Uncle Howard during the Hurricane. They asked to meet her at her house.

The Detective told her, “We recovered a watch and ring that were stolen from you. Jethro Grant tried to pawn them, but the pawn shop owner was not satisfied that the items belonged to him because of the inscriptions on them. He called the Police from the back of the store while an assistant delayed Grant. He was arrested when he left the store with the items in his possession.”

He added, “He said he took them from the body of Clarity Bain when he picked her up and transported her from your house the night of the hurricane.”

“That was so long ago. How come he was just trying to pawn them now?” she asked.

“He said he figured, by now, no one would be looking out for them.”

Trinity remembered him. He was the morgue attendant who dropped Cali’s legs.

After a deliberate pause, the Detective said, “Mrs. Paget, we have found out that it was the intention of Clarity Bain to kill you that night.”

Trinity listened as the Detective relayed what happened. In her mind, she went back to that night. Uncle Howard and Cali continued to drink after dinner, after they went back downstairs.

Uncle Howard said, “I used to live in this house. I grew up here.”

Cali asked, “So why we have to stay down here? Anyway, carry me upstairs. I want some water. Take me upstairs for some.”

Uncle Howard told her, “See the water bottles and cups in the cupboard, right there!”

“I don’t know how long that water been ‘der. I want fresh water from in the kitchen. And, anyway why didn’t she give me the left over grouper fingers for my dog. I want them, too.” she demanded.

“Well, you are not going to feed no grouper fingers to those dogs. I’ll take you for water. Hurry up, then.”

So he led her back to the kitchen and passed her a disposable cup.

“Why I have to drink out plastic cup? I want a good cup!” she said as she rifled through the cupboards. “Look at all this stuff. Show me the rest of the house.”

“No. Come on.”

“Show me!” she said with venom in her eyes.

He reluctantly showed her the rooms. He very quickly turned on and turned off the lights to each one. He tried to overlook showing her a particular area, but she would make him stop and take her to where she pointed.

“I want to look in there.” she said, pointing to the dining room.

She went to the cabinet and peeped through the glass.

“Look at the glass. Dey is sparkle.”

“Come, let’s go.” he said, nervously.

She ignored him and opened a drawer.

“Look at all the shiny fork an’ ‘nifes.” she said, her eyes bulging.

Trinity forgot a flash drive that she left in the study. She got up, retrieved it and on return closed her bedroom door. Uncle Howard heard it.

“That’s all, Cali,” he said, “let’s go!”

He grabbed hold of Cali’s hand. She pulled it out of his. He grabbed her hand again and pulled her out of the dining room, back downstairs.

She waited until he went to the bathroom. She crept quietly up the stairs and went to the phone she noticed before. She saw Trinity’s watch and ring on the counter and put them in her pocket. She picked up the handset and listened for a dial tone. She was glad to hear that phone service was still up, even though the electricity had gone off on the hurricane’s first pass. She picked up the phone and dialed her pimp.

When Uncle Howard came out of the bathroom he folded up their clothes neatly on the cots. He went up the stairs looking for Cali. He told her not to go wandering about the place by herself. He walked up the stairs and could hear her talking.

“I found a place to hit. You have to hurry up before the ‘harricane’ come back round again. She live by herse’f. Ain’t nobody gin see me kill her. We can put her body outside. It would look like she got killed by accident outside.”

“What you saying, girl?”

She slammed down the phone.

“Nothin’. Talking to Reo.”

“Why? I heard what you said. I am not going to let you do that.”

“Look at the stuff she have. Just by herself. Lookin’ down on me like I is dirt. What make her better den me?”

“She ain’t like that. You don’t know her. She would help a person out as much as she could.”

“You think she would have you in this house, if there wasn’t no hurricane. Ain’t dis your house, too? You think it for her conscience?”

“She asked me plenty to come live here.”

“Why we only good enough for the garage?”

“I told her before; I don’t want no other room.”

Uncle Howard was afraid. He could not let harm come to Trinity.

“We leavin’. Now! You ain’t staying in this house. Get out!”

He pushed her down the stairs. She held on to the banister to balance herself. Then she came at him like a wild animal, her hands aimed for his face. Her nails pierced his left cheek and a drop of his blood smeared on the wall. He kept pushing her along the way. She drew a fist and struck him hard and kept striking him. She kicked him in his balls, the pain caused him to double over and step back. She spat at him.

He opened the garage’s side door and kicked her out. She fell, but got up quickly and spun around to come back at him. He held onto the door frame and kicked her again in the chest to make her stay out. She started screaming when he grabbed her by the collar and back of her dress. He flung her away like he was moving a bale of hay from one place to the next and she rolled down the driveway.

He closed the door quickly. He had to sit down. He had never hit a woman in his life. His father taught them that. How could he not have seen what she was? How could he have brought this demon into Trinity’s house? He was tired of being with these types of women. Just users and abusers, he thought of them all. He had to make sure, though, that this witch was far away from this area.

Even though the hurricane winds had temporarily stopped, some trees, including the very large Sapodilla Tree close to the house, were uprooted and their trunks remained balanced at precarious angles. The slightest impetus could send them crashing completely down and he heard the loud cracking of this tree’s trunk and branches falling altogether. Cali’s scream was muffled by this sound. He stuffed everything he came with into a bag and went out the door, as well. He saw Cali lying under the tree. He went to get her, but he slipped in the mud and slid right past her and into the overhead electrical transformer and live wires that came down. With just one eye, he did not have the depth perception to avoid it. Sparks flew as his body sizzled.

The Detective said, “As part of the investigation, we traced all calls to and from your house. A call was made to a Freno Gibbs just before all phone service went out. He was already being investigated for burglary, rape and murder. He confessed that Clarity Bain called him. They were going to rob you then kill you, but he heard a man’s voice in the background and the line suddenly hung up. Your uncle, Howard, may have saved your life.”

Trinity was stunned. The only thing she could say was, “I wonder what happened to the dog?”

He knew that a person was apt to say and ask the weirdest things when told that someone tried to kill them.

“Which dog do you mean?”

“The puppy, the one that Cali had with her when I brought them here.”

He answered, “Probably attacked and eaten by one of the wild dogs or it’ll become one of them.”

He gave the watch and ring back to her.

“But, Mrs. Paget, why didn’t you report the items stolen?”

“I must have left them on the kitchen counter during the hurricane. They are not very expensive. They were just everyday pieces. I am not big on wearing jewelry. I don’t like to bring that kind of attention to myself, in case of robbers. But, it looks like that battle was lost already because the killer came from within. My good jewelry is locked up tight. I never thought that these were any place except where I left them.”

“Well in any case we are glad to return them to you. Please show me where you kept them and please sign the receipt acknowledging the condition in which they were received.”

After the Detective left, she took the packets into her bedroom. Walking to the chest of drawers she opened the third drawer and took out a small box containing some jewelry that she wore occasionally. She was going to take these back to the other house.

As she walked around the house, she pondered that she had a full life with Robert. She thought of him everyday and wondered what their life would end up being. When he died, she did not believe that she could live without him. She didn’t know how she was going to raise Nica without him.

So many years had passed and she was still young. She still had a life to live. Nica and Jase were married and would have children and live their own lives. She had not met anyone that she wanted to be with. No one took her breath away. No one made her feel curious. Although it was not for travel, no one gave her Wanderlust like that, except for George Ponsby and he was in London, so that was the same, right?

Trinity’s Love Life

“This is crazy.” she thought, “I have to stop thinking about him so much.”

But, she could not deny that she made up reasons to call him. She wanted him.

He liked how unaffected she was, unlike the women who he met socially. He didn’t want a woman who looked artificial and acted the same way. He came across them all the time. He didn’t want a twenty something year old. He saw couples like that and that is not what he wanted, either. Friends left him alone after they realized that he did not want a hook-up.

His friends told anyone who was interested in him, “You’re wasting your time on that one. That’s Saint George.”

He was ready to be in love again. He was ready to marry again, even though, sometimes, he felt resigned to be a widower. He wanted to be sure, though, that the woman really loved him, not his status and money. He was wealthy enough to support any lifestyle that he chose, no where near Trinity’s wealth, but he was glad to know that she was not interested in him for money. He didn’t want someone of whom he was unsure of their sincerity.

He prayed for someone to come along who shared his spiritual beliefs, who truly believed. Since that night, in the hospital, when he first prayed for Tasha, he saw that she did. He confirmed it when he went to Tasha’s funeral.

He didn’t want to keep chasing deals, acquisitions, mergers, or be concerned with credit ratings, inflation and projections. He had already tendered his resignation, but the bank asked him to renew twice already. He didn’t want to stay anymore. He had no reason to stay any more. He had every reason to resign. A whole lot of that was Trinity. He wanted to truly live again and every time he thought of Trinity he felt good. He looked forward to hearing her voice. He found himself calling just call to say hello and find out how she was coping.

He kept remembering how she choked with laughter at what Nica said when they were having lunch. When she called him to say that Tasha had died he heard how sad she was, how much she was hurting. He wanted to kiss her when he was at Tasha’s funeral. He wanted to comfort her, dry her tears, and wrap his arms around her. He wanted to hold her when she and Nica came to London.

At the same time, Trinity was sitting on the deck by the fire pit overlooking the infinity pool which over looked the sea. She came out there to pray all the time. This day, Aunt Janice and Uncle Fred came out to join her. They decided that they would stay outside for lunch.

Uncle Fred was reading her mind.

“Trinity, we all know how good a friend you were, and still are, to Tasha.”

Janice nodded in agreement.

“We know that you feel bad about letting her go, but Honey, Janice and I have to tell you that you need to be with this man and have a life together, now. Technology is something else. You can do everything from behind a computer, you can video chat, have conference calls and text. You won’t miss anything. So, at least give time to your happiness with him. Don’t wait around for us. Go. Do it.”

Trinity could not stop crying. Aunt Janice got up out of her chair and went to her. She hugged her close.

“You are my daughter. You know that.”

Trinity leaned into Janice’s embrace, like a child.

“I miss her so much. I can’t stop thinking about her. Why did this happen to her?”

“I know. Me too. I feel like my womb has been ripped out. If it weren’t for Fred, I don’t know how I would have gotten through this. You can’t stop your life, Trinity. Tasha did nothing to deserve what happened to her. But, you deserve happiness.”

That was what she needed to hear. She took some deep breaths then she called George.

“I want to come, if the offer still stands.”

“Yes. Yes. I can’t wait to see you. I prayed for this.”

George told his sons to come home. He wanted to tell them about Trinity. He picked them up from the train station. When they settled in the house he told them that he would take them to dinner later, but, he had to speak with them first. He sat on the settee with Gerald. Alex sat on a chair facing them.

“I have found someone that I want to be with. Some one that I want to spend the rest of my life with,” he stated. “I want to know how you feel about that.”

Alex asked, “Who Dad?”

“She is not from here, but she has been here and I met her through the Bank. She is a lovely lady. Do you remember when I went to a funeral on the Island?”

“Yes.” answered Gerald.

“She is the friend of the lady that passed away.”

“Do you love her? We have never heard you speak about anyone, before.” asked Gerald

“Yes, I love her and I want to ask her to marry me, but I wanted to speak with both of you, first.”

Alex said, “Tell us about her.”

“She is beautiful inside and out. She has long grey hair and her skin is the colour of honey and ochre. She is very kind. Her daughter, Nica, is a CPA and a CFA. She is married to a Doctor. His name is Jase.” he said as he had one arm draped over Gerald’s shoulder while sitting along side him. “Trinity makes me happy in the way only a partner could. And, she is not like any of the women that I met before.”

“Will she like us?” asked Alex.

“I know that she will. And, she is coming tomorrow, so you will meet her.”

“OK Dad. If she is a kind lady, we want to meet her, too.” said Gerald.

“Alright, let’s go to dinner. You can ask me anything you like. I’m famished, though.”

Gerald and Alex were happy for their father. They missed their mother a lot so they understood that he was lonely, too and that he really loved Trinity. They were old enough to understand that their father was still young. After their mother died he was devoted to them and raised them by himself. They knew that their father would not bring any one into their lives that did not share his ideals and love them.

George took Alex and Gerald to Big Un’s as a treat. They loved barbequed ribs. By the time as they finished, he had to wipe the sauce off of Gerald’s nose and chin. He answered every question that they asked. He also asked about what was going on at school and in their lives, but, all of their questions came back about Trinity. They were anxious to meet her only because they really wanted to welcome her, possibly to their family for good.

The following morning, when the navy blue painted Aurora pulled into the hangar, George held his hands behind his back and tapped his right index finger, nervously. She stepped out like a vision. Just as she came down the steps a gust of wind blew her hair around her face. He had never seen her with her hair down. She had always worn it up. To him, she looked even more beautiful than ever. He walked up to her and took her hand and kissed it. Then he gave her a big hug and held her for a long time. She smelled good, too. For Trinity, his hug was so warm and comforting and a perfect fit. She did not want to let go.

“I can’t believe that you are here.” he said.

“I know, me too.” replied Trinity

He kissed her on the mouth. It was a lingering soft gift of love. Then he took the travel bag from her that held her iPad and Laptop. They held hands as they walked.

“The rest of my luggage will take a few minutes to be taken off. Then the Aurora is going back. Captain Bain and Ek want to say hello before they leave.” she told him.

“Let me call my driver to pull up by Customs. In the meantime, let’s wait in the concierge. I hope that we don’t have to wait too long. I want to get you home and meet my children. They will be going back to school tomorrow. They are cooking dinner for all of us.” he said hurriedly. He continued, “I left them finishing the preparations.”

“What are they cooking?” she asked.

“I remember you saying how much you loved fish pies when you were at school here. My boys make a killer fish pie. They are really good cooks. In a house with three men we all had to learn quickly. We used to go to cooking classes on the weekends when they were still at home. It was something that all of us enjoyed doing together, anyway.” he told her.

“Yes, I do love fish pie. I am really looking forward to meeting these fabulous boys. I hope that they like me.”

“They will.” said George smiling at her.

After about an hour, with Customs checks finished and after speaking to the Captains, George was finally able to take her to his house.

Alex and Gerald waited by the open front door to greet her. They kissed her on each cheek. George brought the bags inside and told his driver that he was in for the night. Trinity went to her room and took out the gifts that she had for the boys. She pulled her hair back into a low pony tail to keep her hair out of her face and changed into a beautiful breezy white top that had coral coloured shell designs on it. She wore it over white skinny jeans. The only jewelry that she wore was a gold charm bracelet given to her by her family.

Dinner over a pie of cod, prawns and crabmeat topped with a crown of riced potatoes was filled with laughter and twenty questions ….’What is the Island like?’…’Do you go on the beach everyday?’... ‘Do you have a boat?’

They were to leave for school on an early train in the morning. George thought that he might have put them on kitchen clean up duty, but since it was so late already, he told them to go to bed. His housekeeper was coming in the morning anyway.

George asked Trinity if she would join him in the den for some brandy.

Trinity sometimes played with the charm bracelet, unconsciously.

“I have noticed that you wear little jewelry except for that bracelet. It’s beautiful. Tell me about it.”

“Oh, I have had this since I was a little girl. It has charms on it from different places that my family went to. I love it. I would love to go to these places one day.”

He asked her, “Would you like to go to the train station with us in the morning then you and I could have breakfast at the Pub?”

They stayed up all that night talking and only realized that it was morning when it became lighter outside. Neither of them felt tired as they were both buoyed by each other’s excitement. Trinity cooked a breakfast of French Toast for the boys then they were dropped off at the train station. George took her to the local pub for their breakfast. Over the next few days, they talked and laughed and prayed and over the next few nights, he was in his bedroom wanting to be with her and she was in her room, next door, wanting to be with him. Both of them with a burning desire for the other.

However, there was another thing that he had to discuss with Alex and Ger. He called them at school for a three way conference.

“Boys, I think that I need to, and should, buy a new house. It wouldn’t be right for Trinity living here. She has to feel the mistress of her own house, not one that has memories of another woman in it. It holds so many memories for us, too. You have grown up here. I will never sell this house, but, I can let it out then it’ll be inherited by both of you. The rental fees will be put in trust for you.”

“OK Dad, are you going to ask her to marry you?”

“Yes, Ger.” he said.

George continued, “There is an 18th Century, National Heritage Grade II neo-Classical estate in Winchester that I have been eyeing for a while. It was once the residence of a member of the House of Lords. It is surrounded by seventy-five acres of secluded woodlands. It has sheep, rolling hills and groves of trees. And, what’s more, there is room for the stables. Alex, you can even have a nine hole golf course. If Trinity likes it, I will buy it.”

Becoming serious again, he said, “The most important thing, though, is that you are there with us. It will be your home, too. You both will have your own bedroom suites. It will be your home for life. Do you understand what I am saying? I would have it no other way and I believe that Trinity would feel the same way.”

“OK Dad. Just get on with it, then. I am heading to class.” Alex commanded.

George smiled contentedly. He hung up the phone. His heart was full of love for his sons. Then he made two more phone calls, one to Nica and one to Uncle Fred.

He cooked Trinity a dinner of sautéed trouts with fingerling potatoes in parsley and butter and broccoli raab with red chilies. As they lingered over wine, a chocolate soufflé was baking in the oven. He couldn’t wait any longer. Just before the soufflé had to be taken out of the oven he got down on one knee on the side of her.

She thought that maybe one of them had dropped something on the floor. For the first time she saw the box by the table leg. All that time during dinner she did not even realize that it was there. Now, she recognized that it was a jewelry box, but, for a second, it didn’t click as to what was in it. When she reached down to get it, he waited until she picked it up. As she was bringing it up to the table, he held her hand and opened it. Inside was a ring of three square cut diamonds set in platinum.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes. I will marry you!”

He kissed her softly.

“I am very happy.” he said. “I prayed for you.”

“I prayed for you, as well. I wanted us to be together for life.” she said.

“Oh! No.” George said. “The soufflé!”

They laughed as George pulled it out of the sleek black cast iron Aga oven. It was overcooked just a little bit. They ate it anyway, with vanilla ice cream on top.

He took Trinity to look at the house and property that he wanted to buy. As they drove through the entrance to the property there were electric gates manned by a security staff. Apart from the stately edifice in a great park, there were two cottages on 457 acres of rich landscape. One of them overlooked the lake. The other was on the edge of the property nearby groves of trees and a small natural pond that had a small, discreet, bronze spitting fish with a wonderful patina, not so much spitting, but bubbling. A ha-ha wall sloped languidly through the field, separating the sheep from the gardens. White accent lights illuminated the trees and walkways.

On the ground floor, on entrance to the house, the reception hall featured sweeping staircases to the second floor landing. A large drawing room had high ceilings, ornate cornicing and a fireplace with a carved wood and marble mantel and surround. In the dining room, tropical hardwood parquet patterned flooring continued through to the service room, reaching through a pair of oak double doors. Elsewhere were black and white and beige and rose checkered marble floors. Double doors opened onto a four level terrace that overlooked the lake and woodlands. The library concealed walkways to the upstairs rooms behind some of the wall panels. Most windowsills provided ample and comfortable seating to view the gardens. Each door case was a work of art and each carved stone chimneypiece a wonder.

There were eight bedrooms and nine bathrooms (six en suite) besides the master suite which had two spacious and separate dressing rooms. The master bedroom opened on to a circular balcony enclosed by a balustrade that may have one time been pristine, but was now moss covered. It afforded stunning views over the gardens, the lake and the woods. In the lowest level, partly underground, was a central hall surrounded by an industrial kitchen and accommodations for the staff.

The three story stone walls led to two separate step tiers leading down to a lush lawn. A well worn large flagstone terrace overlooked several groves of trees. Well trimmed climbing flowers and ivy covered the outside walls. There was an indoor pool where plants in lead planters and vines thrived in the heated environment. Retractable glass panels flanked the area with views into the garden. There was also a whirlpool and a gym.

Indicating with his left hand and pointing here and there, George said, “We can put in a potager down on that terrace. I would like to finally get a knot garden, possibly over there and I will have an aquatic expert come in to see if we can restock the lake with fish. I know how much you love to fish and I do, too.”

“What do you think? Do you like it?” George asked her, nervously.

“Do you like it, boys?”” she asked.

“We love it!” Alex and Ger said.

“Then I love it, too.” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.”

Trinity went back to the Island to arrange the move to Winchester. George spoke with his staff and advised them of his plans.

He told them, “A lot of you have been here for a very long time, so you know the reason for what I am going to tell you. I am moving our family to Winchester. I would like for all of you to remain in my household. Those who would like to stay will receive additional information from me. However, those who cannot, I understand. I will try to get you another placement here. Mrs. James, will liaise with you on that.

When Trinity returned to George, in Winchester, she felt that all the pieces of her life were finally coming together and she was looking forward to the rest of it with him.

The rehearsal at the All Saint’s Church where they were to be married was fun and up beat. It wasn’t a complicated issue at all. They had both been through it before and they had few attendants and a small amount of guests that were invited. They ran through it rather quickly. The best part was that every one was looking forward to going to the local pub for Shepherd’s Pie, Fish and Chips, pasties, lamb chops, sausages, ale, darts and celebration.

On the morning of the wedding the house was wildly active with caterers, bakers, party organizers, gardeners and groundsmen, cooks, florists, bartenders, servers, decorators, housekeepers, photographers, musicians, tailors and seamstresses, hairdressers, barbers and manicurists. Trinity was the only one calm and serene.

“How can you be so calm?” asked Aunt Janice.

As they were both getting their hair styled, Trinity said, “The only thing important for me, right now, is that I will meet my husband at the altar. Don’t get me wrong, everything else is beautiful, but if nothing goes right, as long as he is there, I’m happy.”

“Where are you going on your Honeymoon?” asked her hairstylist.

“Do you see this place? We just moved in a few days ago. There is too much to do. We decided to go in September.”

After her hair was done, Trinity stood in front of the full length mirror. Her dress was a sleek formal subtly embroidered pale buttercup and champagne coloured silk zibeline coat with a small train over a matching sleeveless pale buttercup coloured chiffon dress and custom made Swarovski crystal covered strapped shoes.

Her hair was up with a pair of nineteenth century floral diamond aigrettes, on either side of a loose chignon, which were given to the Grand Duchess from her brother, the Tsar Nicholas. The flower elements were mounted en tremblant, so they shimmered and moved slightly. With Trinity’s gray hair it was dazzling. She, along with Nica, chose them from the collection at the bank a few days before the wedding.

Her dresser finished the final adjustments. Trinity looked at herself in the full length mirror. She was pleased with how the dress, her hair and her makeup tuned out. All day she had been thinking of Robert and Tasha. She knew that they would be happy for her. She said a prayer in thanks for her happiness. When she opened her eyes, she turned around and took up the small bouquet of white roses and bouvardia with a sprinkle of natural foliage. She went into the outer suite where Nica was helping Aunt Janice put on her shoes. When she looked up and saw Trinity, she stopped.

“Oh Mum, you look beautiful.” she said.

Aunt Janice looked up at Trinity. She felt like her throat had tightened. She could not say anything. She just kept looking at her.

Nica asked, “Doesn’t she look beautiful, Aunt Janice?”

Still, they got no answer. They turned around to face her, to see why she was not responding. Aunt Janice couldn’t speak. Her eyes filled up with tears. Her lips quivered. She took some deep breaths.

“I wish Tasha could have seen you.” she finally said.

Both Trinity and Nica went to her and put their arms around her.

“Oh, Aunt Janice, don’t cry.” said Trinity.

Both Nica and Trinity were choking back their own tears. They just sat either side of her. Uncle Fred came up to find out what was holding them up. He knew that it was very unlike Trinity to be late for anything. Janice’s head was bent down as she dried her tears. Uncle Fred knocked on the door before he entered to make sure that they protected their modesty.

“Come in, Uncle Fred.”

“What’s the matter?” he asked, after he saw Janice crying.

Nica pulled Uncle Fred aside. She told him, “She is having a lot of different emotions today. It is hard for her. She is remembering Tasha and what could have been her wedding. Why don’t you calm her? We’ll wait in the next room.”

Trinity motioned for him to come over as she got up.

Finally, Aunt Janice and Uncle Fred came out.

She said, “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” she smiled back at Aunt Janice, “OK, Let’s go.”

They were still on schedule. The three ladies entered George’s black Bentley with Uncle Fred. Trinity received a round of applause from the house staff and even some people from the village who were curious as to who the big celebration was for.

The ceremony was set at the small century old Anglican Church, just a little from the new house, down in the village. The late afternoon was already starting to get dark. Flickers from the candles in glass vases in the church mesmerized the eyes. About one hundred of their friends and family came to witness the marriage. George and his sons arrived at the Church in a Land Rover driven by Alex. As they moved up the aisle to the altar he was greeted by the site of the flowers and candles everywhere. The aroma from the flowers was intoxicating. It was a spectacular sight as the sun was going down.

He took his place at the altar with his sons standing as his groomsmen. He looked at them, proud of the good young men that they had grown up to be. Without their approval, he would not be standing there waiting to marry again. Alex carried the rings. Everything was happening, as planned. He knew in his heart that Trinity was the one that he loved, but yet he was nervous. He couldn’t wait to see her walk up the aisle and become his wife. He used to think that he would never have a love like that again.

He said to Alex, “I can’t believe that this day is here. I’m so happy, but I don’t know why I am so nervous”.

“It’s going to be OK. We are happy for you, Dad. We love Trinity.”

George nodded his head and felt comforted by what Alex said. He thought a lot about Hortense that day. She had a gentle spirit and he hoped that she would be pleased for him. He took a deep breath. The organist began to play. The outer door was opened and Trinity stood with Uncle Fred. As they started down the aisle, George turned to look at her.

“My God, she’s beautiful.” he said, choking back tears.

When she reached him, he took her hand from Uncle Fred. Both of them had tears in their eyes.

When asked, “Who gives this woman to be lawfully wed in marriage?”

Uncle Fred said, “I do.”

Aunt Janice beamed proudly. When the ceremony was over, George and Trinity were greeted by a shower of rose petals as they entered George’s Bentley. Alex drove and Gerald sat in the front passenger seat. Jase drove Aunt Janice, Uncle Fred and Nica in George’s SUV. Benny, Captain Bain and his family and Captain Ek and his girlfriend came in other cars.

The reception was held in a white air conditioned tent with installed flooring over the back lawn and patio. Tasha’s favourite flowers; Peonies and Camellias were arranged with greenery in tall conical centerpieces on each table. The green stems were exposed in water that held tea candles. Smaller bouquets and posies surrounded those for guests to take with them. Various sized bouquets and white lights were displayed to beautiful effect in accent pieces all over, especially hanging down from the ceiling and along the walkways.

A silver service was set for a five course dinner of lobster, chateaubriand, rack of lamb and Dover sole. Waterford crystal was set for Champagne, white wine and red wine. The servers brought drinks from the Bartenders.

The tables were set with white silk table cloths with a barely gray blush embroidered overlay. The chairs were white and gold coloured bamboo. White napkins were engraved with the letters T&G in the same gray that accented the tables. The chandeliers were made of white polished sand dollars. The white lights passed though them made natural shapes on the walls of the tent. White sofas, bean bags and silver ottomans were scattered all throughout the tent and grounds.

As wanted by both George and Trinity, there was no set program.

“My wife and I…” he started with a big applause. “My wife and I thank you and welcome you to our home to celebrate our marriage. I just want to tell you that I love her deeply and I am happy that she will be my wife for as long as we both shall live.”

“I love you, too, Honey.”

“We are keeping everything informal, so there will be no speech and no set program, just enjoy yourselves. You can move around and go to the different food stations. The band will play anything that you request, I guess, as long as they know it. So, let’s eat, drink and dance. Just have fun.”

After George and Trinity finished eating, George cued the band. He got up and held out Trinity’s chair for her. He held her hand as they made their way to the dance floor. Accompanied by applause from their guests, they danced to George and Ira Gershwin’s ‘S Wonderful’, sung by his friend, Elvis’ wife, Diana Krall.

Katherine, who called Janice ‘Aunty’, created all of the cakes and pastries which were lined up in another tent that was connected to the main tent where one could sit and have tea or coffee. She was a tall, beautiful, ‘mango skinned’ girl with brown curly hair and big, delicately hooded, hazel eyes.

The main cake of chocolate and vanilla cream was white with intricate pale gray icing accented with silver leaf. Trinity and George had already made the first cut and Katherine was slicing the rest of it and sending the plates out with servers to distribute to the guests.

Then George threw off his coat, took off his tie and went to the microphone. “Pick it up, boys.” George told the band. He threw the microphone from his left hand to his right then swung it by the cord.

He sang the Punk Rebel, Billy Idol’s, White Wedding. Same mannerisms, same stance, same lip curl and with his hair already white; he just looked like a more mature version of him. He never took his eyes off Trinity.

“Oh Wow!” Trinity gasped.

Immediately Katherine’s ears perked up.

“This is my song!” Who is singing that? It sounds just like Billy.” Katherine exclaimed, excitedly.

“That’s George!”

“What?! George Ponsby? I have to see this!” she said, running through the entrance to the other tent.

No one could believe it. He was so good. At the end, he jumped off the stage and slid on the dance floor, on his knees, to Trinity, in a cacophony of applause.

“Mum! Really? Shotgun!?!” asked Nica. “George???!!!!???”

The whole room erupted.

“No! Noooo!” Trinity screamed to the revelers, blushing and laughing. She hid her face in her hands.

Very quickly, the dance floor filled up then Jase, Alex, Ger, Benny and the Captains kept the party going.

When Katherine came back with some servers, they were still in shock about how good George was. As she rushed in, she saw Jet still sitting alone in the tent. He paid no attention to her. He paid no attention to anyone. He just sat drinking coffee.

“Would you like a piece of cake with that, or maybe another dessert? There is not much left.” she asked him.

He barely looked up.

“No thanks. I’m not very hungry.” he answered.

“Alright, if you change your mind, let me know.”

“Thanks.” he said, staring into his coffee cup.

He didn’t even look at her. He would have no clue what she looked like if someone asked him. Katherine wondered what it was that had him so preoccupied. She watched him sit there, alone, when all of the other guests were on the dance floor in the other tent. He didn’t look sad. He just looked disinterested……in life. She didn’t know about him other than he flew for Tasha. She remembered seeing him at her funeral, but she did not have any interaction with him then.

George took Trinity’s hand and they slipped out quietly. George drove them to a small boutique Bed and Breakfast that was close by while the party continued at their house. A bottle of Champagne and a platter of fruit were already in the room which featured a fully vaulted ceiling and oak beams. Trinity took a shower and came out of the bathroom with a big thirsty white robe on.

George got up and kissed her gently on the mouth before he went in to take a shower, as well. When he came out he opened the Champagne and poured it into two flute glasses. They did not drink at the reception so that they could have this special moment when they were in the room.

Trinity sat on the bed with her legs folded under her. Then, she kneeled as she took the flute of Champagne from him. He stood by the edge of the bed facing her and took the jewelry out of her hair. Gradually, her hair fell in beautiful cascades around her shoulders. He swept it to one side of her neck and kissed the other. With his left hand at the small of her back and his right arm holding her, he gently pulled her close to him. She put her arms around him, her left hand through his thick more salt than pepper hair.

They kissed each other gently and passionately. He lifted her, cradling her in his arms. He smoothly laid her down. Then he lay beside her. He caressed her and kissed her. She wrapped her leg around him. He entered her. She was moist, warm and silky. He was too eager and he almost lost control. He was afraid that he may have been just a little forceful, but she controlled him and slowed him down. They made beautiful love.

George looked at Trinity sleeping in his arms. He couldn’t believe that this woman was now his wife. He never made love like that before. He looked at their shoes on the floor and her dress and his shirt and suit draped over the closet door.

The jewelry she wore in her hair and her diamond bracelets, easily worth a million dollars, or more, were casually strewn on the floor. They had fallen there unnoticed. She would not let him see them before the wedding. Now, they sparkled at him. He smiled at the comparison and hidden meaning of that. Most important for him, was that her wedding and engagement rings remained firmly on her finger.

He said a silent prayer, “Father, please don’t ever take her away from me.”

Then he kissed her forehead and drifted off to sleep, very happy. Trinity slept a deep contented sleep that she had not done in a very long time. When she awoke, George was still sleeping. He was holding her protectively. She wanted to feel more of his body. She turned towards him and gently laid her body on top of his. She felt him breathing. He gradually arose.

“Good Morning, Honey” he said sleepily.

She started to move from on top of him.

“No. Don’t move. Stay here.” he said as he enveloped her.

He wanted more of her. His fingers found the sweetness of her womanhood. He waited so long for this and now he could not get enough. He caressed her and kissed her all over, starting at her breasts, then the gentle rise of her stomach then he went down on her. She tasted like a big fresh sweet juicy yellow peach.

“Hmmm.” she purred.

They headed home mid morning. There was to be a brunch for everyone. Mrs. James the new housekeeper met them at the door. She spoke with a thick Scottish brogue. She was valiantly trying to organize the clean up and the removal of the caterer’s and event planner’s supplies. Gradually, the house became active again.

A full English breakfast and an Island breakfast were all set out. The cook made omelets on demand. Ice cold cider, grape juice and orange juice were set out along with Champagne and any hair of the dog that they wanted. One by one, all of their sleepover guests straggled down with hangovers except for Gerald and Alex. Guests who were put up in small resorts and bed and breakfast hotels also started to arrive. Nica and Jase came down and kissed Trinity and George on each cheek then Alex and Gerald came down and did the same.

“Alex promised me that he would help me with a little project this morning in the stables.” said George.

“I am going to stay here, to make sure that everyone is OK.” replied Trinity.

Gerald said through a yawn, “I am staying, here, with Trinity.”

Trinity put her arm around him, pulled him in close and ruffled his hair. He responded by hugging her back and wrapping his arms around her waist. Aunt Janice and Uncle Fred came down shortly after.

“How did you sleep last night with all of the noise and the after party?” asked Trinity.

“We slept well.” answered Uncle Fred, adding, “We went to bed early because we’re leaving in a few minutes to go to the bank.”

“OK, great. The last time you were here we set you up to access the box by yourselves so you and Uncle Fred don’t need me to go with you. When you pick out the jewelry for the Christmas party can you put the aigrettes back for me, please?”

“Sure, Honey. Fred and I are going to overnight in London.” replied Aunt Janice.

“Have you made up your mind which ones you want from the pictures?”

“I’m not sure. I think maybe sapphires, or maybe emeralds or maybe rubies or maybe diamonds.” she said mocking herself with feigned indecision. “Oh! I don’t know. I’ll see when I get there which one is going to be the biggest bling bling”.

Trinity, Jase and Nica laughed their heads off. Even Gerald, whose eyes closed so tightly when he laughed, put his fist in front of his mouth to stifle it and keep from spitting out the milk that he drank.

“What did I say?” asked Aunt Janice.

“Aunt Janice, it’s just ‘bling’, not ‘bling bling’” said Nica.

“What do you know of ‘bling’ anyway?” asked Trinity.

“Fred taught me.”

“No, Darlin’ I said ‘bling’ not ‘bling bling’” he said, laughing and distancing himself from that faux pas to maintain his ‘street cred’.

Even Aunt Janice could not deny that she was funny. They were laughing as Mrs. James signed for and brought in a very officious looking envelope. She handed it to George. He thought it was congratulations on his marriage and opened it. What he read, floored him. Trinity saw George’s expression change from shock to blankness then to mirth. He looked at Trinity and read the announcement to her.

“It’s from the Central Chancery of the Orders of Knighthood, St. James’s Palace. I’m being invited to accept the honour of Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (KBE) in recognition of my services to Banking and Economics, to be announced in the Queen’s Birthday Honours List.” he said, chuckling.

“Well, it’s about time.” said his best friend, Lord Jeffrey Grafton, the 17th in succession to a family of wealthy Scottish peers of the realm. “For the Birthday’s Honours List? Do you know, yet, what the date of the Investiture Ceremony will be?”

“No. I guess it is the same process as when I got the CBE. I have to fill out the forms and return them to set the date.”

“It doesn’t matter, we’ll be there.”

They all gathered around him, each reading the invitation, hugging him, patting him on the back. Receiving the Commander of the Order of the British Empire (CBE) ten years earlier, now a Knighthood, was never an aspiration for him. He had never expected to get either. Hortense had just suffered the first of many strokes and the children were very young when he received the CBE and he just never talked about it. Except for his stationary being changed at The Bank to show the designation after his name that was about it.

“Good for you, Dad.” Alex told him.

Trinity, initially speechless, hugged him tight. “Will you accept it?” she asked.

“Of course he will!” Janice told them.

Afterwards

George asked Jet to come out with him and Alex.

“Put on some wellies. It’s wet and muddy out there. A couple of pairs are in the utility room.”

George was building a stable at the new house and it was almost completed. The horses were to be brought down by Jackie Mellon, the stable manager. Gerald and Alex rode well and always looked forward to their school breaks to go for long rides on the country side with their father. They had a black Labrador, as well, but it died just after they started boarding school. Since then, George decided that his schedule was too erratic to properly care for another. He knew that Trinity did not like dogs and that was fine with him. He would not press her for them to have another.

“The stalls are already finished. Jacki, who used to be at the old house, will bring the horses down tomorrow.” George said, “We are in the process of having the facility licensed and certified for breeding.”

They walked on the partially finished lane to get to the stables. It was a very cold and foggy morning. While Alex was walking ahead and out of ear shot, George asked Jet, “How are things going with you?”

“It’s been hard. I still can’t believe that she is not here anymore. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. I was going to ask her to marry me.” replied Jet.

“I know.” said George.

“Her life was so short. I can’t find an answer as to why she died. Why did she leave me so fast?”

“It’s hard to comprehend. What I know about her from Trinity is that she was a lovely and brave woman who was devoted to her family. Everyone knows, too, how much your love meant to her.”

Jet paused, his voice quavered, “Her love was more than I had ever experienced with any other woman that I have known before. Then, it all left me.” he said with tears in his eyes.

Jet stopped walking and George did so with him. He saw a large log lying on the side of the trail. He took Jet to it and they both sat down.

“Her love won’t ever leave you. Her physical love may have, and that’s a big part of why it is so hard to accept, but not the love that she left for you, inside of you.”

Jet could not stop his tears, “But, I want the physical love to come back. Even when she was at her lowest, I thought that she was the most beautiful woman in the world. I still wake every day thinking that this is all not true. I can’t stop feeling so much pain. I just want her back.”

“It will take time. When Hortense died, I also could not understand that, but you will get to a place where the pain will not be so hard. You will never forget though. The part of you that misses her physical love will slowly accept it.”

“The day that she died I cracked open a bottle of rum and I kept drinking until, I swear, I heard her tell me not to anymore and then I stopped. I spent many nights crying and moaning to Bain and Ericka at their house. That woman is a saint for putting up with me.”

“Ericka’s a good woman.”

Jet added, “Seeing you and Trinity together just brings it all back for me. I want a drink so bad right now. I just want to forget about everything.”

“No. That is not the answer. You can lean on me and Trinity, even Fred and Janice. Remember that Janice had her only child taken from her and her husband is gone, as well. On top of that, she had to cut all ties with her brother and family. She is grieving that, too. No mother should ever have to bury a child. As a mother, what she feels is more intense than any other human being could feel. Even you, Jet. But, she understands. You should talk to her about it. She knows that you and Tasha loved each other. You are on the board of her foundation. Do some good deeds in her memory.”

“You’re right.” he said. “I forgot how Janice is feeling through all of this.”

Jet composed himself. George sat with him until he did. They got up and continued down the trail to the stables.

“I’m happy for your Knighthood, though. You deserve it.” Jet told him.

“Thanks.” George answered with a comforting pat on Jet’s back.

The Abduction

Three weeks later, on a Friday night, Jacki sat on a hard pew in the pub with her brother, the bounder, Callum. It was his normal place of worship since they moved to Winchester. She was glad when George told her that he was moving his family there and asked if she wanted to stay under his employment. Since losing his job, Callum moved in with her. It was not the ideal situation for her. She had no other choice but to tolerate him. Having already had three pints, he was talkative and laughing with some of the blokes shooting darts.

He turned to Jacki and said, “I’m skint. Bring us a pack of fags and some scratchings, pet.”

Their father was a groom at the Aintree Stables. He pushed Callum to ride, but it was not for Callum’s benefit. It was so that Callum could elevate him one day to being an equal to the upper classes that he served. Jacki was a far better rider than Callum, but since he saw no value in training her when she was only going to be somebody’s wife then what was the point? The thing was, if their father had just given Jacki one tenth of what he gave to Callum, he really would have benefitted from having a far superior rider. Callum competed, but he never beat anybody.

Their father treated their mother and Jacki as second class citizens in the family. Their mother had no say in their male chauvinistic family. She was of absolutely no importance except to take care of her husband, Callum and Jacki, in that order.

Callum also suffered the humiliation of his mental abuse. He hated him really, but he absorbed his father’s same behaviours. As his father aged, his caustic remarks still used to cut Callum to the core, so he joined the army, even getting into the special weapons unit. At that, he was very good and could have made a fine officer, but he was dishonorably discharged for selling army supplies.

Jacki grew up with her own inferiority complex and sense of worthlessness when it came to Callum. She was always made to feel that she was responsible for Callum even though he was older than she was. She left home, but, even still, she couldn’t even get away from him. A friend of a friend got him the security job at the company that provided security staff for the Bank of Britannia. Then George fired him when he breached confidentiality procedures. He came straight to her fully expecting that she had to take him in, and she did. Callum did not know that she worked for George and George did not know that the man that he dismissed was Jacki’s brother.

After too many pints of ale, Callum headed to the lavatory, relieved himself and walked out without washing his hands. He slunk back onto the wooden bench beside Jacki and grabbed the cigarettes and the fried pork rinds.

“So, how’s it going on at yours, then?”

“Grand.” she answered.

“Do you think you could get me a job there?”

“I’ll ask around.” replied Jacki, with no intention of following through.

She did not want her brother on her job site, but she continued to tell him about it.

“There’s no doubt that the stables are a cutting edge modern facility, maybe for a long time breeder or race syndicate. To me, it is too much for a hobby horse facility, for one family to use. It is obvious he spent a lot of money on it, though. I mean, he and the boys are very good riders and all,” she said, “but, he is married to a woman who rides like a slow jackhammer.”

They both laughed at that.

“And, she is black. Talk about a fish out of water, literally. She is from some third world country in the Caribbean.”

Like many people who put other people down to make themselves feel superior, she was uneducated to the fact that where Trinity was from was not a part of the Caribbean, but its own archipelago.

“What? She’s a monkey?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, now she is a very rich one.”

“I’ll bet that’s why she married him. And, you know the reason why he married her, right?”

“No. Why?”

“’Cause, they say, once you go black you never go back, ‘cause the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice. One of my mates told me that a black piece fucks with your head. They do things to you. I guess due to all the savage in them. I couldn’t do one, though.”

“Well, the wedding was very posh. They certainly did it well.”

She opened a pack of salt and vinegar crisps.

She continued, “He used to be a big schmuck in the bank, but has retired.”

“What’s his name?”

“George Ponsby”

“What??!! I didn’t know that was your employer. That’s the bloke that had me fired from the bank.”

“Yeah? Why so?”

“He gave me some bollocks about me speaking out of turn about a client. Nothing really. I told a coworker about the huge jewel stash that they had in one of the rooms. Is something wrong with that?”

“Shouldn’t have done that, then?” she asked, while rolling a crisp in her mouth.

“Does she have gray hair?” he asked.

“Yes. And, she is well fit.”

“Well, then.” he said thoughtfully. “She came in with her employer about two years ago. They were in this room that was covered wall to wall with jewels and artwork when her employer got sick. When I saw the room I was staggered. It was stonking! Well, she did marry up, didn’t she? She latched onto the Gov’ner.”

“He certainly married down market. He’s definitely good for a few bob, though.”

“Does she come out to ride everyday?”

“Yes, but she normally goes with him unless he has a meeting in the London.”

“If she is comfortable riding with you, you can get her out without him. Do that, Sis. You just text me when she is riding alone.”

Whispering, she said, “Are you going to take her for ransom? You know what happened the last time. You promised that you would never do that again. You and Carney nearly killed the last person with all of that chloroform. I am stopping here. I am tired of the game Callum.”

“This time, Jacki, it isn’t for ransom. I have to give the Gov’ner what for.”

“No, Callum.”

“What do you mean ‘No!’? How many times were you just as much a ready participant? How many situations did I make right for you or got you out of.”

“I can’t anymore. I am tired of that way of life.”

“’That way of life.’? What the fuck are you talking about? Our life isn’t a choice. We don’t get to choose a ‘way of life’.”

“I have to settle, Callum. I am not a man like you who can live from pillar to post. I want to find a good bloke, settle down and raise kids better than the way we were raised, Cal. I can’t do that if I am running from here to there, all the time.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Jacki drove her hatchback to the cottage where she lived about ten miles from the stables. Sinead O’Connor’s ‘Jealous’ was playing on the radio. She loved Sinead.

She said, “I wish I had the chance to see her in concert. Her live version of Nothing Compares to U in Chile is legendary. I watch it over and over on Youtube.”

She sang along, “You're jealous. You just can't stand to see me get along without you, like I do….mm…hmm.”

When the song came to its last chord, she said, “She got the short shift when she tore up the photo of the Pope, but at the end it was proven that she was right. Wasn’t it? They should have given her a Noble Prize for her bravery in trying to warn everyone about what was going on in the Catholic Church.”

“Yeah. Big fucking whop.” he said.

When they were inside, Callum said nothing to her. Jacki was afraid of the storm that was building. She tried her hardest to appease him.

“What would you like for your tea? I can fry up some chops. Or, we can have some spaghetti Bolognese.”

Callum said nothing all evening until she called him to the kitchenette.

“I want my plate in here.” he said, as he spread out on the reclining chair, watching football in the small living room.

Jacki picked up the utensils off the table, took his plate and rested them on a folding table in front of him.

“Get me another.” he demanded, handing her an empty can of lager.

She brought another and opened it for him. Then she set her plate on a folding table in front of the other chair.

She tried to make small talk, again, “Have you spoken to our Nan recently?”

“No.”

“We should visit her soon. Do you ever want to see your son, again?”

“Will you please shut it or take yourself away. I’m trying to watch the match here.”

She said nothing. Callum had a son that he saw once or twice when the child was a baby. Where the child’s mother, Jenny, was no one knew. Jenny’s mother, with her fried bleach blond hair, marched around to Cal’s Nan in a molted rabbit fur coat, short skirt and cheap plastic stiletto heals. She placed the child on the doorstep and rang the doorbell. She walked back to the street and stood outside the gate just long enough to see the door open and Nan look down at the bundle on the doorstep.

She said, “Tell Cal to mind his own baby, I don’t want it.”

She left a few diapers, a bottle of water and a few dirty onesies. Since then, Cal never went to visit their Nan. He just didn’t want to know.

As he scarfed down the last of the meal, he said, “Have you changed your mind yet?”

“No, I am not doing it.”

He got up from his chair and stood up over her. He grabbed both of her arms and pulled her up out of the chair, causing her plate and utensils to crash to the floor. As he did so, he twisted them, digging his nails into her flesh.

She cried out in agony, “No. I can’t do it.”

He pushed her back down into the chair, forcefully.

“Well then, do you want me to tell the authorities that you were selling healthy horses to those gourmet meat clubs? You made a tidy little sum doing that, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“We’ll, I’m taking her and you are going to set it up, right?”

“Yes.” she said meekly.

“Well then, encourage her to come out with you.”

She made one last attempt to reason with him.

“Cal, please, I’m finally settled here. Aren’t you tired of having to run from place to place? I thought with that job at the bank you had finally stopped, too. I am tired of running the game.”

“There was no reason for me to be fired.” he said. “I’m going to make him pay for what he did to me. I’ll make him hurt where he will feel it the most. I’ll figure out the plan tonight and I don’t want to hear anymore of your moaning.”

Being thrown from a horse, when she was eleven years old, left Trinity with a broken arm and a fear of riding again. She couldn’t overcome it. Tasha use to beg her to let her coach her so that they could ride together, but she never would, so Tasha stopped asking. Now, with George by her side and with gentle instructions and encouragement she felt more confident in the saddle, although she didn’t feel comfortable enough to ride without him.

Over the course of the next few days Callum went to the hardware store to purchase some glass bottles, bleach and a small cooler to hold ice. He used the acetone that Jacki already had to remove nail polish. Then he made chloroform in his sister’s kitchen from them.

He knew what he was doing as he had made it many times before. He sold the heavy, colorless liquid to drug addicts. It had a sweet, burning taste and gave off a pleasant aroma. Chloroform addicts would sniff an ever increasing amount and eventually die of the addiction. He didn’t care. This time, he intended to use it in a different way.

On the morning of the second Monday in August, George received a call from Lord Jeffrey who was just about to board his flight for his annual trip to Zimbabwe and South Africa for big game hunting. George went with him before, but increasingly, his views were if you weren’t killing it to eat it, then that was not game. He couldn’t eat Elephants, Giraffes, Zebras, Lions, Rhinoceroses and Gorillas, so he always bowed out of subsequent trips. Jeffrey understood.

Jeffrey told him. “Poppy and I plan on going to a new Reserve so we’ll be out of contact. We’ll call when we get back. We have decided to leave the hunting alone this trip. We’ll help out with conservation efforts.”

“Glad to hear it. I can really say that I hope you enjoy this trip. Alex will be very glad to hear that, too. Send pictures when you can.”

After their conversation, George showed Trinity the plan for the winter planting for the Grand Duchess’ tomb. The local landscaper in Vermont suggested Evergreen Holly, Pansies, Hellebores and Snap Dragons for the next four monthly rotations which George thought were good selections, so she emailed him back her approval.

“When we leave, why don’t you go to the stables to groom the horses?” George asked Trinity. “You should groom them even on the days that you don’t ride, so that they get used to you, even without me around. If you ride today take Leo. He would be more forgiving and patient with you. Jackie knows that you have preferred to ride with me around, but she’ll help you out, if you feel confident, enough.”

George had decided to take the boys to their tailors on Savile Row. They were growing like weeds. Although not Alex’s first Savile Row suit, it was for Ger as he always wore Alex’s hand me down suits, but he was old enough now to want his own. In the car, Alex talked non stop about getting an Ozwald Boateng suit. He had seen the ads in CQ Magazine and Vogue and made his father promise to take him there. He sat in the front passenger seat flicking through the brochure trying, unsuccessfully, to get his father to look at the suits. He admonished Gerald for his lack of style.

“If you had any style, Ger, you would know how out of order his suits are.” Alex said to him.

“I don’t care what you think.” Gerald answered.

“Boys, it doesn’t matter. You can pick what you like, but you’ll still have to wait years before you can get your swagger on, like me.”

Alex looked back at Gerald. Both sons rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

Boateng’s store was at No. 30 Savile Row, on the corner of Savile Row and Clifford Street. Gerald wanted a suit from Gieves & Hawkes at No. 1 Savile Row, his father’s tailor. George was a cut and dyed Gieves & Hawkes man. They had been making, on average, four suits per year for him for over twenty years. Suits with functional sleeves; real buttonholes that allowed the sleeve to be rolled up. Mr. Antonio was a third generation tailor there and a second generation Gieves & Hawkes tailor. He could measure anyone by sight. George introduced Ger to Mr. Antonio, whom he felt he had grown up with.

“I always say that we tailor for generations.” said Mr. Antonio, proudly.

“Yes, Sir.” George smiled.

After Trinity went for her usual walk around the grounds on the crisp, cold morning she headed towards the stables. She saw Jacki leading Leo out to the ring.

“Good Morning.” she said.

“Good Morning, Ma’am.” Jacki replied. “I’ll saddle Leo for you.”

“No thank you, I’m not riding today. George has gone to London with the boys. I have to do what ever needs to be done. So what do you want me to do?”

Jacki had to convince Trinity to ride. She was not sure if she would get another chance. She knew that Callum would not rest until he took Trinity. She knew how obsessive he could be and how enraged he could get. Jackie looked at Trinity, not sure how she was going to make their plan work out.

She said, “OK, I was just going to start mucking out. You’ll have to put on some rubber boots. Some are by the door. If shoveling is too much for you, I’ll shovel and you brush and rake.”

“No, I have to shovel, too.” Trinity answered.

“Alright then, here you go.” she said, passing a shovel to Trinity. ”Just let me get something from the office.”

Trinity started to shovel the dung and hay piles into a wheelbarrow. Inside the office, Jacki called Callum. The plan was set in motion. Everything was going to work out well.

She ran back to Trinity, holding out her excuse for going into the office. She said, “Here’s a pair of gloves for you or you’ll have blisters.”

“Thank you. That was thoughtful of you.” Trinity said as she took them from her.

Carney, Callum’s accomplice, was a gormless slacker and benefits cheat who always looked for a way to get money. Any way, that is, except work for it. Callum easily manipulated the halfwit into helping him. This time he told Carney to pick up a package from his friend, steal a van and drive it to him. He figured that within two hours, he would be at the stables.

Trinity shoveled slowly. Her scoops weren’t as large as Jacki’s were, but she got through it.

“The stalls have to be washed down with disinfectant now.” Jacki told her.

Trinity did that, as well. Her shoulders were sore, but she persevered.

“OK, what else?” she asked, pleased with her achievement.

“We have to put in clean hay, now.”

As they worked Trinity asked a lot of questions. Jacki answered each one with patience trying to get Trinity to feel comfortable.

When they had finished, Jacki said, “Since you are here, why don’t we ride.”

“I don’t think I should. I am not that confident, as yet.”

“I’ll ride right beside you, if you wish.”

“Oh, OK. OK.” she said, accepting the offer.

Trinity mounted Leo. Jacki mounted Cyclops. Both were black warm bloods. Together, she and Jacki started with a slow walk. The steady clipped sounds of the metal shod hooves coming down on the cobble stones were loud. Trinity felt at ease.

She asked Jacki, “How did you come to love working with horses so much?”

Jacki said, “It has always been with me from when I was a child. My brother and I grew up around the stables where our father worked.”

“Have you competed?”

“Yes, but nothing big, everything was concentrated on my brother. My parents couldn’t afford for both of us to be involved, so it was decided that he was better.”

“Do you see him often?”

“He’s actually living with me, now, until he finds a place here.”

“I guess it must be good to have your brother with you when so many families are split up.”

Jacki led Trinity into a trot then a canter, easily, without her even realizing it. She was impressed that Trinity was mastering the post. She was rising up and down in her seat in rhythm with Leo and this time there was very little jolting. She had improved, a lot, with George. She didn’t look like a slow jackhammer, anymore. She believed that Trinity would have taken Leo into an easy gallop, but she didn’t want that. That would mean that Leo would be moving too fast and Callum would not be able to take her. So she eased them back into a trot then a walk.

“Where are you from, Ma’am?”

“I am from The Islands of the Bahamas. I actually went to college here.”

“It must be grand to live by a beach.”

“Yes, in some ways. I like the water, but not the beach. We go out on the boat a lot when we are there.”

“You have a boat?”

“Yes, I do, but it is mostly used, now, by my daughter and her husband and friends. My aunt and uncle like to go fishing on it, as well.”

They continued talking as Jacki looked around nervously. She saw Callum’s signal. It was the flash of the hazard lights twice. The dark green van was parked up ahead and along side the left of an S shaped trail with its engine running just outside of the estate in the Great Park.

If anyone discovered them, Callum would say that he pulled over because he was having motor problems, but few people came to this area, because it was private property. Callum was in the driver’s seat until he saw Jacki and Trinity then he went into the cargo hold with Carney. Carney kept asking for one of the rolled smokes that he saw in Callum’s pocket.

To shut him up, he gave Carney two of them. Carney looked at them like prized possessions. He put one in his pocket and brought the other one to his lips. He bit off a little piece of the tip and spit it on the van’s floor. Just as he was going to strike a match to light it, Callum hit the roll up out of his mouth. Carney reacted with shocked horror.

Callum said, “Not now, you idiot.”

Carney looked dejected.

“Pay attention you moron. They are coming.”

Callum knew what he had to do, but, for now, he needed Carney’s help.

Jacki had to get Trinity in the right position so she moved Cyclops to the right side of Leo. She slowed them down to a walk and positioned Leo between Cyclops and the van. As they passed, the sliding door opened. Quickly, Jackie brought Cyclops in front of Leo to block him. Trinity was startled. One set of outreached hands held her head and chloroformed her and another set of hands pulled her off the saddle and into the van. The door closed and the van sped off.

Jacki rode Cyclops around in circles then dismounted. She whipped Leo twice, with all of her might, causing him to gallop away, riderless. She waited for a while. She could feel her own heart beating, wildly. Sweat was running down from her armpits and temples. She did not see the middle aged woman walking a dog who saw her and Trinity, together, before they went into the S curve. The woman also saw the green van speed off. She stayed out of sight.

Jacki sat down. The woman still remained concealed from Jacki, but the dog barked. Jacki shot up realizing that she had to give an accounting of events. She looked around and around, playing out the scenario and timing of Leo’s bolt. Then she called the house with her best act of alarm. George’s PA answered the phone.

“Mrs. Ponsby’s horse broke away. I don’t see her. Something scared her horse.” she said.

“What do you mean? When did this happen?”

“Just now, but I can’t find her or the horse.”

“Have you called the Police?”

“No. I was wondering if she came back to the house.”

“No, she’s not here. I’ll call Mr. Ponsby and the Police. Keep looking for her. I’ll send some of the staff out to look, as well.”

George picked up after two rings. He was sitting, waiting for Gerald to be measured. He listened to his PA and asked, “What do you mean?”

“Jacki said she can’t find her.” his PA said.

“How could that happen?” he asked, frantically.

“She said the horse bolted after something scared it. We have already called the Police and sent out staff to search.”

George sat down in disbelief. He was ashen.

“Boys, we have to go. Trinity is missing.”

He called his PA back, telling him, “Arrange for a helicopter to bring us back to the house. I’ll leave the car there. Get a driver to bring it up later. We’ll be at the Heliport in fifteen minutes.”

“What’s going on, Dad?

“Trinity is missing. She went out riding with Jacki and her horse bolted.”

George was about to call Uncle Fred when Mrs. James called him.

“I believe I know something about Mrs. Ponsby, about what Jacki did.”

“What is it?” he asked.

Mrs. James was living in one of the cottages on the estate.

“I was walking my dog. I saw Mrs. Ponsby and Jackie riding. There was a green van parked nearby, sheltered in the hedge. I saw Mrs. Ponsby on the horse before they went into the bend. I didn’t see the van go in, but I saw it come out. It must have been parked there. It pulled off on the path just by the Great Wall. I saw Ms. Trinity go into the S curve, but she didn’t come out. Jacki came off of her horse and walked it round in circles then I saw her whip it with her riding crop to make it bolt.”

“Where are you now? Call the Police. Tell them that. I am on my way.”

He called Fred. It was night time there.

Fred told him, “I’ll call and activate the location of the chip. Janice will call Nica. The Aurora is here. Janice and I will fly directly to you. I’ll ask Jet to send one of his for Nica and Jase.”

Uncle Fred stood in stunned silence for a while, looking at the telephone. Previously sleeping Aunt Janice asked, “Who in the world would be calling at this hour?”

Uncle Fred sat down on the bed. “It’s George.” he said.

Janice sat upright immediately, “What’s wrong?”

“Trinity went missing after she went riding with the stable manager.”

“What?” she asked.

She could not believe her ears. She got up right away and put on her robe.

He went to the study and activated the chip. “Come, let’s pray Janice.”

As they prayed, neither one of them wanted to say to the other what they were thinking. Because they lived in a real world, for a brief moment, they wondered if George had anything to do with Trinity’s abduction. Aunt Janice looked to Fred for his assurance that George would never do something like that to her.

Uncle Fred said, “We know that he would never do something like that to Trinity. We are letting our fear get the better of us. Come, we have to get ready to leave. I’ll wake Kara to help you pack and David to pack for me, while I’m on the phone to Jase. I’ll have to wake Captains Bain and Ek, as well and call Jet.”

“Oh Father, please protect her.” pleaded Aunt Janice.

When Jacki arrived at the house, the Police were already on the property. Search crews were being briefed. She felt confident that she was not seen. She went to Mrs. James.

“Has anyone spoken to Mr. Ponsby, as yet?” she asked.

“Yes, he has been informed. The Police need to speak with everyone. You are next. They are in the dining room. Take those muddy boots off.”

Mrs. James looked at Jacki with contempt, but she could not let her know that she was seen. Jacki removed her boots and left them out side of the door. She walked in navy blue with white polka dots socks. Jacki held her gloves and crop in her hand. She felt like her heart was beating out of her chest. She looked around for any sign that meant that she was a suspect.

The Inspector interviewing her glanced at the crop. He saw something on the leather tongue that made it look like it was wet. Jacki gave her version of what happened then the Inspector told her that he would have to take her gloves, crop and boots for evidence.

“Because you were the last person with Mrs. Ponsby. It’s standard procedure” he said.

“Alright.” replied Jacki, placing them into separate evidence bags.

As she did so, the crop slid along the inner walls of one of the bags and left a streak of red blood that was very easily seen by the naked eye. Jacki realized at that moment that she was found out. There was no denying that blood was on the whip.

George arrived on the second of two helicopters that landed on the lawn behind the house. The first one was of Scotland Yard. He came out of the second one, bent over as Alex and Gerald followed him. He walked quickly. Once inside, he went to Mrs. James.

“Is she here?” he asked.

“Yes, she is in the dining room with the Inspectors.”

“You told them everything that you saw?”

“Yes, I did.” she replied as an Inspector walked up to them.

George introduced himself and asked the Inspector to accompany him to his study.

“She has a chip. The security firm can liaise with you.”

He went to the safe and retrieved the chip information to give to them.

“Our database shows that Ms. Mellon’s brother, Callum, worked at your bank. Their Human Resources head has already confirmed that he was let go by you over breach of confidentiality. Ms. Mellon doesn’t know that we are aware of the fact that she called her brother before she took Mrs. Ponsby riding.”

Gerald and Alex sat sadly and quietly in the corner of the room.

“This may not be a case for ransom. He may have a personal vendetta. In that case, he’ll just want to make you suffer. We could have any scenario here.”

“He knows that money would not be an issue for me. I would give him any thing he asked for, although, I don’t believe that he would be dumb enough to think that he could get any significant amount of money without having some kind of trail.”

“Please stay in this room. You cannot be a part of the search party. The estate will have to be locked down. We will monitor your calls.”

“I’ll do anything you ask.”

He sat with Alex and Gerald. They prayed together. Captains Bain and Ek, in the cockpit of the Aurora, were already airborne with Uncle Fred and Aunt Janice and their PAs. Jet flew to Roanoke for Nica and Jase.

George couldn’t sit still. The sun was setting and it was becoming very cold. He looked furtively out of the bay window that faced the west. He thought of how cold she would be somewhere out there. Mrs. James lit a fire and left him with his sons. She returned later with a tray of sandwiches and tea.

George shook his head, “No. Thank You.”

She then offered some to the Corporal who was stationed in the room with George. Outside, the kitchen staff set up urns of coffee, tea and hot chocolate. Various juices and water bottles were lined up on a table with fresh fruit, finger sandwiches, plain, sesame and onion bagels with steamed salmon, cream cheese and scallions and granola bars, for the Police and searchers after they came back, hungry and cold. There were also a toaster and scones, various types of jam and clotted cream.

One officer asked under his breath to the other, “Look at this spread that they are putting on. Do you think he had anything to do with this?”

The Inspector came in to talk to George.

“Mr. Ponsby, we have already confirmed that the security chip has been located in the southeast of the country. Its exact location is being downloaded from satellite. We have also traced a ping on Mrs. Ponsby cell phone in the same area. But, she neither received nor made any calls which may mean that she could not. It is most likely that it was taken from her, the Sim Card destroyed and the phone thrown away.”

“Where is she?” George asked.

The inspector ignored the question.

“I’d like to ask you some questions, Mr. Ponsby” said the Inspector.

“Sure.” George replied.

They sat down on the sofa, next to a bogwood table, in George’s study.

The Inspector said, “My questions are in no particular order, Mr. Ponsby. They are just fact checking.”

“Okay.”

“Did you have a prenuptial agreement with Mrs. Ponsby when you married?”

“No. I did not.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t need one. She doesn’t need one.”

“Why is that? You are an astute financier, one of the best in the country. It is surprising that you would not have one.”

“My wife does not need my money, I do not need hers and we are married for life.”

“Who pays all of the bills here?”

“I do.”

“You lived elsewhere before you married. You still own the other property.”

“Yes, but my children own it, now.”

“Registry records show that you do not have a mortgage on this house.”

“That’s right. I paid for it in full.”

“What is the value of this house?”

“I paid twenty three million, seven hundred thousand pounds for it. The value of it is higher to me because it is my wife’s and children’s home.”

“That is a lot of money. Who will it go to in the event of your death?”

“My wife will have the right to remain here for the rest of her life if she wishes to, then it will go to my children, equally.”

“Do you have a life insurance policy?”

“She doesn’t, but I do.”

“Why is that?”

“I have had a life insurance policy from the time my first son was born. They are both my beneficiaries.”

“Not for Mrs. Ponsby?”

“You mean if she were the beneficiary? She does not need a life insurance payout from my death.”

“She must be a part of your family’s health insurance scheme. Most of them pay out an amount on death.”

“My children and I are. My wife does not need any.”

“Who is the beneficiary of your bank accounts and assets?”

“My sons are, equally.”

“Does Mrs. Ponsby know about all of this?”

“Yes, she is aware.”

“Do you want me to believe all of what you are saying? Would you not want for your wife to be taken care of if you were unable to provide for her, in this big estate? Death and estate duties could eat up all of your money.”

“You obviously don’t know about my wife.”

Just as he was about to tell him, George heard the television from the other room.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are bringing to you the latest breaking development in the disappearance of the wife of the former Governor of the Bank of Britannia.” said the news anchor.

George stood up to go to see the news. The Inspector tried to stop him. George easily brushed him aside.

“A body has been found bearing the description of Mrs. Trinity Ponsby. We go now to our reporter where the body was discovered.”

Just then George’s legs betrayed him with the gravity of ten moons and he dropped to his knees.

At the Police station the Chief Inspector asked, “Where did that come from? We don’t know if that is Mrs. Ponsby or if it is of any relation to this case.”

He was told, “It is a female with dark skin and gray hair. It got called in to the Leedle jurisdiction two hours ago. They just informed us about it in the last thirty minutes. They thought that it might be her. Someone leaked the information too quickly.”

Leo was found three miles from the estate not being sufficiently familiar of the landscape to return home. A pair of riders came upon him after hearing about the case on television. He was frantic and bleeding from the two long and deep welts on his left hind quarter. The unfamiliar sounds and sights agitated him. The pain was excruciating because of the hematomas that formed in the muscle tissues.

“We have the horse,” said a Detective to the Chief Inspector.

“Make sure that horse gets evidence treatment. I want prints, DNA, the works.” commanded the Chief Inspector.

With great difficulty the equine unit managed to corral him and load him into a trailer to transport him to their facility. Throughout the journey Leo reared up and kicked his back legs at the trailer’s walls. Once there, the Police Veterinary darted him so that they could collect evidence from him.

The Chief Inspector told his officers to bring Jacki in for questioning.

The supervising detective on the estate said, pointing to Jacki, “Get her out of here. Take her back to the station.”

As Jacki was being led, handcuffed, to the police car, she saw through the large frosted bay windows that George was on the hard veneered floor. His guttural wail could be heard throughout the estate like the cold mist hanging low to the ground out side. His sons were beside him crying. Mrs. James and Father Stewart, from the church that they were married in and where they worshipped every Sunday, were on their knees supporting him.

“What happened?” Jackie asked the officer.

She was not given an answer.

“What have you done, Callum?” she thought as she was being moved forward by the officer.

Looking back, she could not take her eyes off the scene through the large window.

Nica and Jase were at the airport waiting to board their flight with Jet. Nica was in a trance like state. She found it hard to believe in the realty that her mother had been abducted. Her anxiety level was at an all time high and waves of panic attacks struck her over and over again since being told. Jase agreed with the Cardiologist to have her start on a course of sedatives. Then, she got from point A to point B because Jase told her to do so.

Jet came out to them. Nica just sat in her seat non-communicative. He hugged her and kissed her cheek. She was like a zombi, non-reactive and cold. Jase shook his hand. Jet felt him trembling.

“We have about another ten minutes to finish refueling then we will leave.” he told them.

When Jet came out to them in the cabin about an hour into their flight he motioned to Jase to come up front. He spoke softly.

“Keep your devices off. We just heard that the body of a woman with gray hair was found in the area where Trinity was abducted.”

Jase was stunned. “What?”

“Keep your voice down. They have not officially identified it as yet, but Nica shouldn’t hear that right now.”

They both looked at her. She was lying in the fetal position with her head covered by a shawl.

“I don’t know how much more she can take. In addition to all of the responsibilities that she has from the foundation, now her mother has been abducted and may be dead because of it. I don’t want her to have anything to do with it, anymore. It’s going to kill her. Tasha should not have done that.” he said, his voice cracking.

Tears welled up in his eyes. His lower lip trembled. Jet steadied him and sat him down.

“How am I going to tell her that?” he asked putting his head in his hands.

Jet held his head to Jase’s head and said softly, “Go into the lavatory and cry it out because, very soon, you may have to be strong beyond what words can say.”

At the station, the Chief Inspector got the call. The chip was still active and pinpointed forty miles from where the body was located and it was moving.

Right afterwards he received another call.

“Preliminaries show the body to be that of an elderly female with long gray hair that was reported missing two weeks ago. Her skin was dark due to advanced decomposition. We are still waiting for positive identification.”

Shouting at the bearer of the news, he said “You better make fucking sure because I am not having him on a roller coaster ride. It has to be doubly confirmed before I tell him that body is not hers. Get everyone out on this. Bring that woman back to her family, dead or alive.”

At the estate, the News hour started on the television. “Good night viewers, it has been confirmed that a person of interest is being questioned in the investigation of the missing wife of the former Governor of the Bank of Britannia. So far, it has been learned that an employee of the former Governor is thought to be involved in her abduction.”

“Police are continuing to treat this case as one of abduction. The employee of the former Governor was arrested and is now co-operating with the authorities to locate Mrs. Ponsby.” the news anchor said.

George stood staring, out of the large window from his bedroom suite upstairs, at the trees in the grove. Then, he sat on a chair, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

Alex heard the television on in the background, in the kitchen, as he hurriedly went downstairs to go back out with one of the search parties.

He put on his Wellington boots and as he was reaching for his Loden Green Urban Parka on the coat rack, he heard, “Also, tonight we can report that the body found was not that of Mrs. Trinity Ponsby.”

Alex spun around on the ball of his foot and climbed the stairs, two at a time.

“Dad! Dad! Dad!” he screamed while running back up to George’s bedroom suite. “It isn’t her. It isn’t her.”

“What are you talking about?” asked George, with annoyance.

“Dad, they just said on the news, the body they found isn’t Trinity’s, Dad.”

Alex picked up the remote control and turned on the news.

“See.” he said, directing him to look at the television screen.

As George listened he was overwhelmed with gratitude. He grabbed Alex to him and hugged him.

“Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Father.” he repeated.

Then he stopped. He thought about the family of the person whose body was discovered. He felt for their loss and he prayed for their peace. And, he prayed for Trinity.

“Father, please protect her and return her to me. It can’t be that I have brought her this far to lose her. I would rather that she never entered my life if it would mean that she were safe.”

“Where are you?” he asked, forlornly, looking through the window at the wintry landscape. “Tell me and I will come for you.”

“How is it that the news is leaking out of the bureau?” asked the Chief Inspector. “We haven’t even told Mr. Ponsby, as yet. At least, I have some good news for him. Get him on the phone for me.”

After the conversation with the Chief Inspector, George called Uncle Fred.

“The body that they found is not Trinity’s.” he said.

“Praise God.” Fred said. Turning to Janice, he added, “It isn’t Trinity.”

Janice cried with relief.

“The Chief Inspector said that they were within a ten mile radius of the chip’s location. They are keeping me updated. My PA will meet you. You have to take a helicopter from there. I’ll see you when you get here.”

George called Nica, but she did not pick up. He could not get through to Jase, either.

He then called Jet who said, “I asked Jase to turn off all of their devices. I didn’t want Nica to hear bad news. She is in a terrible state.”

“Then give her this news, Jet. Tell her that the Police have confirmed that the body that they discovered is not Trinity’s. They also have located the chip and are working to bring her home.”

“This will be great news for her, I can tell you that. This is great news for all of us.”

The Aurora was due to land in thirty minutes. Jet was due in two hours.

The Chief Inspector called the pregnant Criminal Psychologist, Inspector Gwendolyn Draker to the viewing room next to the interrogation room where Jacki sat, with her hands handcuffed to the end of the table. She looked all around, up to the ceiling, down to the floor. Her eyes were moist and her throat was dry. She pulled at her handcuffs.

“How are you going to get her to crack?”

“She’s going to sing very quickly. She is terrified. See how she fidgets and is trying to free herself from the handcuffs. ”

Inspector Draker went into the interrogation room carrying a bottle of water, a tub of yoghurt and a spoon wrapped in a paper napkin. She set them down on the table and introduced herself.

“Ms. Mellon, Jacki. Are you comfortable? Is there anything that you need? Are you hungry or thirsty? I have to eat here, because as you can see,” she said as she patted her belly, smiling, “I’m eating for two on a schedule.”

She looked around to her colleague, another inspector, as she said, “Would you like a sandwich and something to drink? We can order from the commissary and have a chat as we eat?”

“I would like a sandwich and some coffee, please, if it’s alright.” Jacki said.

“That’s great”.

Then turning to the officer, the Psychologist said, “I’ll have the same, please, without the coffee. May I have some bottles of water, as well?

“Alright Jacki, while we wait for the sandwiches, let’s talk about why you are here. We know that your brother, Callum, may be involved in the abduction of Mrs. Trinity Ponsby, but from what we have learned so far, your story is not consistent with the facts of the matter. Did he put you up to this? For your own welfare, you shouldn’t try to protect him.”

Jacki’s resolve faded and she folded right away. She held her head low and closed her eyes. Tears started to flow. She was relieved to not have to shoulder the burden anymore.

“What is it, Jacki? As a woman and as for me, a mother, we have to try to bring this mother home to her family. You can understand that, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

“If anything happens to Mrs. Ponsby, if she dies, you know that you will be charged as an accessory to her murder.”

“I only took her riding to him. I didn’t want to do it. I don’t want her to die.”

“Then, please, tell us where Mrs. Ponsby is. Where is your brother?”

“I don’t know. After I took her to him, he left in the van. I haven’t spoken to him since.”

“Here is your phone that was taken form you last night.”

The content of the phone had been downloaded the night before. They knew what Callum’s number was, but if he answered and there was someone else on the phone, he would know that he was found out, possibly making him panic and kill Trinity.”

“Jackie, you have to find out where Mrs. Ponsby is. Make him stop what he is doing. Make sure that he releases her unharmed. We are willing to give you immunity from prosecution if you help us to bring her home safely.”

An Inspector put the phone on the table. Even though they already knew, he asked her for Callum’s number. The number was punched in and it was put on speakerphone.

It vibrated once, twice, three times, four times.

Then it clicked off.

A detective in the other room asked the phone server technician, “Is that enough to position the location of the phone?”

“Yes. It is in Waltham Forest.”

Unseen, on the back wall behind Jackie, were two small lights. One of them was green, the other one red. He indicated by flashing the green light once. Jacki did not see it.

They knew, too, that she was very hungry. A tray holding the sandwiches was set on the table in front of them. The food remained just out of her grasp. No one made a move to eat them. It was a set up sometimes used in psychological warfare. Some canaries would sing just because they were vey hungry and food was in front of them. Jacki sang the canary song.

“Text him that you are fine. Ask him where he is. Tell him to release Mrs. Ponsby and put her somewhere public so she can be found. Let him know that you are going to hide. Ask if he wants to go with you?” the Psychologist said.

“The security company said that the chip is in Walthamstow. The phone continues to triangulate. We have her within five miles.” said the detective to the Chief Inspector.

To the call Sargent, he said, “Get every car out. Request assistance from Charing Cross and Chingford. Get searchers out. Send airborne. Call all reservists. Send out all equine. Close all streets. When ready, tell the SWAT to go in. I want this woman found, now!”

At the station, the Chief Inspector was told by a detective, “We received a tip that a walker spotted a green van on Wood Street. The van got the walker’s attention because the occupant was throwing their water bottles and crisp packets out of the window while it was parked in one spot for a long time. They got the registration number. It is registered to a butcher shop in Manchester that reported it stolen a week ago.”

In the back of the van, Callum was holding Carny in a choke hold when his phone vibrated. He couldn’t stop. Carney was taking a long time to die. He struggled hard. Callum thought that he shouldn’t slit his throat because that would be too messy and he didn’t have a silencer for his gun. He had killed other people before, but none took so long as Carney did.

He had to do it. Carney became a liability. He was making blunder after blunder. The debris that he threw outside of the van caused a walker to tap on the window to remind him of the litter laws in the town. He used up all of the chloroform. The last straw was when Carney started singing with Shaggy, at the top of his voice, ‘It wasn’t me’.

“Send a team to check that location. Put out that registration number.” said the Chief Inspector.

When Carney finally stopped kicking, Callum was exhausted and sweating profusely. Carney’s purple tongue hung out the side of his mouth, his head was a motley colour of purples, blues and yellow. Callum had to stop and think for a while. As he panted to catch his breath, his phone vibrated with a text from Jacki.

It said, ‘Going to our Nan for a few days. Do you want to come? Where do I meet you? Call me now or I’m leaving without you.’

Callum read the text over and over again. He wondered if he should take up Jacki’s offer. He needed her because he didn’t have any money and asking a bounty for his hostage would cause more complication than he wanted. He just wanted George Ponsby to suffer. It was too late now, anyway, but who would know.

He replied back, “I’m coming with you. Pick me up at the Walthamstow Central tube station.”

“We need to know what is happening to Mrs. Ponsby. Is she still alive?” asked Inspector Draker.

Jacki texted back, “No mates like the last time.”

“No mates.” he replied.

“Are you bringing your pet monkey?”

Some Officers looked at each other, surprised and uncomfortable with her callous ease, but they didn’t interfere.

“No.”

“I’m calling you now.” she texted back.

The officer punched in the number. He answered on the first vibration.

“Yeah.” he answered.

“I’m leaving now. Are you ready?”

“Yeah.” he replied.

“Did you do it?”

“Didn’t mean to.”

“I told you about your mate from the last time.”

The Officers all looked at each other.

“I’ll meet you at the station.”

“No, it’ll take too long for me to get to the station. Meet me here at the van. Wood Street.” He wanted the advantage of seeing if she shopped him.

Each looked at the other. The Chief Inspector nodded to the Detective who left immediately to mobilize a rescue. He decided that he had better call Mr. Ponsby to advise him of the situation. He would have to keep the plan to himself if they were going to succeed with this covert action.

The Psychologist’s heart rate quickened. Was Mrs. Ponsby dead? Was he giving them his location?

Callum was uneasy since speaking with Jacki. Unless she was being forced to, she never would have spoken to him like that. He watched from a second story bedsit whose lock he jimmied. If the occupants of the bedsit came back, he was prepared to kill them, too. He had his escape route already planned.

Jacki’s hatchback was at the bureau. It was loaded into a lorry and driven to the nearest Police station on Orford Road. She was taken along with four detectives in a people carrier. Once there, she was taken out and put behind the wheel of her hatchback. An officer lay on the back seat. She was boxed in by specialist drivers on all four sides. As they approached the van, traffic lights were switched to allow them to drive without stopping.

Plain clothed detectives positioned themselves along the street. Sharp shooters accessed the rooftops of buildings. Callum looked on as businesses started to close their doors and windows. He noticed that people were leaving the buildings with the look of panic on their faces. Jacki sat waiting for him, in a spot in the street, with no bother, which would have ordinarily brought on a ticket. He saw a dog walker come close to the van, leave and come back. Over head, he could hear a helicopter.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we have late breaking news in the case of the missing wife of the former Governor of the Bank of Britannia. We have reports from our news affiliates in Walthamstow that a green van has been located in Walthamstow Village and it is believed that the van holds Ms. Trinity Ponsby. At this moment there is a SWAT team going in to rescue her.”

The Aurora landed with Uncle Fred, Aunt Janice, Captains Bain and Ek and Ericka. They arrived at the house first. Jet brought Nica and Jase, arriving afterwards. They all watched the news on the television in the lounge area of the bedroom suites. Downstairs there were too many strangers for George to deal with so he stayed upstairs with his family to support each other. No one spoke.

The Chief Inspector called George and told him of the plan. George wanted to tell the others, but he was told not to. He was so hopeful and only thinking of the time when he would have her back with him. He sat with his legs crossed, on the sofa, near to the fireplace, one of their most favourite places in the house where he smoked an old fashion pipe as he read the papers and Trinity did the cross words.

He had his left arm folded over his chest, holding his chin in the other. He had not shaved since Trinity disappeared. Alex sat on the arm of the sofa with his arm over his father’s shoulders. Gerald sat with his head on his father’s other shoulder.

Uncle Fred went over to Aunt Janice and started to pray. He said he couldn’t watch anymore. Jase would not allow Nica close to a television. She was asleep, anyway. Mrs. James was in the bedroom with her while Jase was with George. She came out when she heard of the latest update on the television. She sat bolt upright watching the screen with her palm over her mouth.

Then to everyone’s horror the van exploded into a ball of fire. It was so real, to them, that they felt the flames burst out of the television screen. They felt like they could hear Trinity scream as she burned in the fire.

“Oh God, No!” cried George.

“Oh No!”

“What happened?”

“What happened?”

“Dad? Dad?”

“Good Lord, No. Oh Mon Dieu, Non. C’est briser mon coeur” said Uncle Fred.

“No!”

“She’s burning.” George gasped in horror and disbelief.

He looked around to gauge if he actually saw what he thought he saw. From the expressions on the faces of the others, he knew that he watching his wife die in an inferno. All stations carried the newsfeed. Every station showed the flames pouring out of the windows of the van. Two agents in bomb suits carried extinguishers to the van trying to control the burn.

“Ladies and Gentleman, tonight we are watching a tragedy. Right before our own eyes we are witnessing the end of the siege to rescue Mrs. Trinity Ponsby.” said the news anchor.

On another station, the anchor was stunned. He was muttering through an attempt to provide commentary. “What can we say at this moment? We are trying….em…..we are….going…..to…..trying to get a report from the scene. Until then we can only watch….the…the….like the rest of the nation what may be….em…the dramatic end of this rescue attempt.”

All television screens carried a news ticker, ‘Is this the end of the rescue attempt?’ ‘Tragedy for the Ponsby family.’ ‘Ponsby Family devastated’ ‘Wife of the Governor Dead?’

“Ladies and Gentleman, we are hearing preliminary reports that a body is inside the van. What a sad end this must be for the family of Trinity Ponsby. We are trying to get a report from the Chief Inspector. We go to Jessica Wells on the scene.”

“Larry, this is quite a sad ending. As you can see the fire has been extinguished. Agents are now searching the van and we can confirm that preliminary reports coming to us, is that, indeed, there is a body in the van. We have been advised that there will be a press conference from the bureau in half an hour from now. Until then, we will keep you updated along with our viewers, Larry, but this is a sad turn of events. It’s very sad.”

George got up, cleaving from the arms of his sons that enveloped him. He walked silently to his bedroom. Jet followed him. George sat on the ottoman and held his head in his hands. Jet said nothing. He was there, but not intrusive into George’s silence. Uncle Fred was in stunned silence sitting by Aunt Janice. Jase went to Nica and closed the door. Everyone one else looked at the television screens in disbelief.

“What happened?” George demanded, as he threw a shoe form against the full length mirror like he was hitting a tennis ball, shattering it.

“We don’t know if that is Trinity.” Jet said, soothingly.

“Didn’t you see that?” he asked, with the palms of his hands pointing to the general direction of the television screen in the lounge. His voice was strident.

“We don’t know if Trinity was in that van. You have to believe that she was not there.”

“They told me she was there, Jet.”

Callum saw the news on the television in the dirty bedsit. He was thrilled at the commotion that he was causing. He should have already made his way through the back of the building, over two roof tops then down a stairwell onto another street, but he just could not leave. He had to watch his handiwork.

He liked what he saw. It made him feel powerful, omnipotent and proud that the entire nation saw it. He got his revenge on George Ponsby. He watched the mesmerizing fire. Unguardedly, he pushed his face closer to the window. He could see the mayhem that he was causing and he liked it.

Suddenly, a bright red bindi appeared between his eyebrows, his aina. There was a ‘thoop’ sound and the seat of his concealed wisdom was shot out of the back of his head like red, gray and white confetti bursting out of a piñata. The force of the explosive shot slammed him into the opposite wall and broke his neck and fractured most of his ribs. He didn’t even have time to shit his pants.

The Police sniper spoke over his radio, “Enemy spotted. Tango down. Suspect sighted firing an incendiary at the van. Repeat. Suspect down in bedsit on level two of building directly across from the van. Accomplices unknown.”

Special Forces Officers used a battering ram and knocked the door down. A flash bang stun grenade was thrown in to disorient the senses of any accomplice there before the officers stormed in. They could see his feet through the smoke.

At the estate, Police Officers surrounded every border. They came for George. Officer’s walked through his house, went upstairs and passed Jase and Alex who were out in the vestibule of the bedroom.

“Hey? Hey? Stop. What are you doing?” asked Alex.

“Where is Mr. Ponsby?”

Neither Alex nor Jase was going to allow them to upset George any more than he already was. Captains Bain and Ek and Uncle Fred got up to block their path.

“Step aside, please.” commanded the Officer with his hand on his gun in its holster. The other Officer did the same with his right hand and made the stop sign with his left.

“Mr. Ponsby, we have to take you in for questioning.”

“Now? For what?” asked Alex.

Both Officers stepped to George. “We need identification and confirmation.”

“Of what?” asked Jet. “Can’t you leave him alone for a while? Give the man a break. He is in no condition to do anything.”

Jet stood up from where he was sat at the table speaking to his PA and George’s. They were working diligently to cancel George’s plans to take Trinity on their Honeymoon to Europe and Scandinavia. George had also added St. Petersburg and Moscow to show Trinity where the Grand Duchess grew up. They were supposed to have left in a few days. Then he realized what the Officers meant. Jet lowered his head. He put his hand on George’s shoulder.

“I’ll do it.” he said.

“I’ll come with you.” said Uncle Fred.

“Only one other person is allowed.” said the Officer.

“It’s OK Fred, I will go with him. You stay with Janice and the kids. Pray with them.”

Jet could not believe the hurt that continued to be heaped on his family. George was a broken man. He didn’t care anymore. Trinity was gone and he had no more fight left in him. They were led into a secured van. George’s beautiful gardens were overrun with Police

Officers and Canine Handlers with their charges. Twenty three News vans with huge satellite disks, heavy duty lights, generators and monkey ladders were spread over the acres outside in the Great Park around the estate.

Reporters filmed their commentary and photographers pushed their lens flush against the windows of the cars and vans coming into and leaving the estate. Rapid fire strobe like flash illuminated the park and turned night into day. George’s detention became the number one trending item in the nation. Twitter blew up in record numbers.

‘Do you think that he did it? #GeorgePonsbyarrested’.

‘Praying for the Ponsby family. #TrinityPonsbydead’.

‘George Ponsby arrested. #GeorgePonsbykillswife’.

When they arrived at their destination, George and Jet were hurried through to the elevator in the garage. It took them up seven floors until the doors opened to a wide desk facing them. George stepped out as if in slow motion. The Officers asked Jet to wait outside a room in a chair. They guided George into the room through its large door. One by one, the people standing moved out of his way until he had a straight clear view of her, sitting in a chair. Alive.

Everyone came out of the room. Some of the doctors and nurses touched his arm or patted him on the back and smiled as they exited. George looked at her in disbelief. He hadn’t slept for days. He thought that he might be hallucinating, but there she was, sitting in the bedside chair.

He took two steps and kneeled at her feet. He put his head in her lap and cried. She rested her arms on his back and kissed his head. He raised his head and kissed her on the lips, all over her face and her hands. She ran her hands on the side of his face to feel his beard. Then she ran them through his hair. He held her hand again and kissed her palm. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him.

“Are you OK?” he asked her.

“I think so. More important to me, is, how you are?”

“I’m happy.” he sputtered. “Jet’s outside. He doesn’t know that you are here.”

He kissed her again, but he didn’t want to let her go. He opened the door. Clearly he could see that Jet was agitated. The two Officers who brought them there stood a little way from Jet with deadpan faces. When George opened the door, Jet stood up from the chair. He saw that George was crying and laughing.

“What’s going on? What are they doing to you?”

“Come in Jet. Someone is here for you.”

Jet looked at him quizzically and looked further into the room.

“Good Lord,” he asked, “how is this possible?”

“Hi, Jet.”

He looked at George for confirmation. George pointed up and then put his palms together.

While Jet was with Trinity, George called home. He had to speak with Jase first. Jase took Nica’s hand and led her into their bedroom. After he told her, she spoke for the first time in four days to her mother.

Jase then asked Aunt Janice, Uncle Fred, Alex, Gerald, Captain Bain, Ericka, Captain Ek and Mrs. James to come into the private vestibule of George’s and Trinity’s dressing rooms nearby the Panic Room. He closed the heavy cedar doors behind them.

“Nica and I are so deliriously ecstatic right now so please forgive me if I can’t get this out properly.” he said.

“Trinity was found and has been reunited with George.”

“What?”

“Yes. Yes.” he grinned.

“Unknown to the public, for the time being, is that the body of the person found in the van was that of the kidnapper’s accomplice, whom he apparently killed. He lured Jacki to the site of the van and set the van on fire from a bedsit across the street. Special Forces Officers spotted him, killed him and discovered Trinity.”

“Under a cloak of great secrecy, she was admitted to a Military Hospital. The ruse was ordered by the Minister of Justice and a press blackout was enforced in light of the emotional toll on George and our family. We know that she is alert and talking, but there are still medical issues that concern her physicians. Jet is coming back to the house and George will stay with Trinity, still continuing with the charade that he was arrested. Hopefully she will be home in a few days.”

“We have been asked by George to please not even discuss this once I have told you, until Trinity is released from hospital and brought home. He asked us not to speak to the cleaners, suppliers, grounds men, reporters, police officers, other family members, friends, no one. Don’t act any differently so as not to fuel speculation. Do not speak of it on the phone or send text messages because they will be hacked.”

“Mrs. James, your staff will receive many condolences, flowers, words etc. Take them, on behalf of the family, as if we still believed that she had passed. Don’t offer anything else than thank you or you will be tripped up by a reporter posing as family or friends. Ask the staff to leave us alone to mourn so that no expression or word may be leaked.”

He continued, “George’s staff members are long standing employees that have proven their loyalty to him, but still we have to be sure. Once she returns I am sure they will understand the reason for these actions.”

“Of course.” replied Mrs. James.

“None of us can go to visit her because we will be followed. It is best that we sit tight here for the next few days. Nica has spoken with her and her heart has been greatly relieved.”

“We know that you have lives to get back to now that you know that she has been found, but please don’t say anything. From the day that Trinity was taken, she and George have lost their anonymity. The public will recognize them for a very long time. Reporters will sleep out in the trees to get pictures. They need to have some privacy before the press intrudes again.”

“We are not going anywhere until Trinity is home.” said Captain Bain looking at Ericka.

Mrs. James arranged for dinner to be brought up to the bedroom suites. No one else was allowed up. Each person was allowed to say one sentence to Trinity and that was it until she returned home. One right after the other, they said their piece and passed off the phone to the next person. Trinity smiled as she recognized each voice.

“I love you. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Love you, too, Aunt Janice.”

“I thank God that you are safe.”

“Thank you, Uncle Fred.”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see you, too, Ger.”

“God Bless you.”

“Thank You, Captain Bain.”

“We love you and miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Alex.”

“Hurry home.”

“I’m trying to, Captain Ek.”

“A million kisses are waiting for you.”

“Thank You, Ericka.”

“Guid night an sweit dreams! (Good Night and sweet dreams.)”

“You too, Mrs. James.”

Trinity in Hospital

Before he was shot, Callum took Trinity out of the red, white and blue plaid carryall and laid her down on the bed. He removed her clothes and tied her hands and one foot to three corners of the bed. He took off his trousers. Ordinarily, he would never fuck a black woman, but this poontang looked too good and he knew that it would kill George Ponsby to know that he raped his wife.

The chloroform was wearing off and Trinity started to rouse. That was fine by him. He liked his victims to be kicking and screaming. That’s why he left one of her legs untied. Like celebration fireworks, for an added thrill he was going to blow the van up, causing mayhem below. He wanted to see his handy work then he was going back to do her. No one would suspect that he was in the bedsit. No one would be concerned with her screams.

In the hospital, Trinity said, “I’m fine.” She said again, “Really, I’m fine.”

The next day, while Trinity was being assisted with her bath, Trinity’s attending consultant spoke with George.

“We believe that she was made unconscious and kept unconscious with chloroform. There is no specific test to determine if it is present in the body so we’re guessing. It is rapidly eliminated from the body so to be kept unconscious requires continuous inhalation. In the wrong hands, extraordinarily high levels can easily occur resulting in death. She’s a lucky woman.”

“Many potential side effects can occur from chloroform toxicity. Two of them, headaches and nausea are already evident. At such an extreme level, more severe side effects can manifest, the major ones being long term kidney and liver problems. Also, chloroform can cause fatal cardiac arrhythmias that is sometimes referred to as ‘sudden sniffer's death’. Chloroform is on the rise as a recreational drug and is even used to commit suicide.

“We will have to monitor her very closely over the next few days and for the rest of her life. There is no antidote to chloroform poisoning so we have no choice but to treat her as each problem arise, if any in fact do arise. But, we have to tell you that we are surprised that she is even conscious at this moment.”

The consultant Psychiatrist, Dr. Tanower said, “Of concern as well, is post traumatic stress disorder. Psychologically, what she has experienced is on the level of what a Prisoner of War would have experienced. Coping mechanisms are expected. For example, she responds, “I’m fine.” to any attempt to solicit feed back from her.”

“In the short term, we can leave her alone to catch her breath, as it were, but in the long term, it would be psychologically dangerous for her to hide what physically happened to her or hide her emotions.”

“She may not want to divulge what she experienced; believing that the quicker she forgets about it, the quicker her life would go back to what it used to be. She may feel that she does not want you or her family to feel bad about what happened. Or, she may feel disgust about something that did happen and does not want further shame or rejection being directed at her.”

“Like what?” George asked them.

Both physicians looked at each other. Her attending physician said, “Mr. Ponsby, your wife was found naked and tied by her hands and feet to the corners of a bed. Callum Mellon was found, shot, with just his brief on. We carried out a rape assessment. That included taking swabs of the oral, vaginal and anal cavities and drawing blood and taking sputum to test for sexually transmitted diseases, including HIV. To prevent that, we will start her on a course of anti-retroviral medication to be on the safe side.”

George was devastated. “Are you serious?” he asked, his hands trembling.

“Right now, let’s leave her alone. But, she will need therapy for her long term well being. You have experienced a great deal of pain, yourself. You will also need help.”

George nodded. He reeled from the information. He couldn’t stand to hear anymore. His mind fought hard to fathom what he was already told.

“Mr. Ponsby, George, please have a seat.”

The Doctor directed him to a chair and asked an orderly to bring some water.

As he handed George the water, he said, “You are going through a lot.”

George nodded again to acknowledge Dr. Tanower’s concern.

“We are going to discharge her if there are no untoward life threatening issues. She will have to have a psychological assessment for her to be eligible for discharge. I will come back tomorrow morning just after breakfast.”

“Thank You.”

“An Aide has been assigned to you. You can advise him of what you will need. We have a pretty well stocked visitor’s center, but for the time being, please let them get what you need.”

“Thank You.”

George decided that he should not let Trinity see his anguish. He had to be strong for her. He returned to the room to find her back in the chair. Earlier, he found some playing cards in the bedside table drawer so he started shuffling.

“What do you want to play?” he asked. “Maybe it’s time that I taught you how to play something, like Poker.”

He had never seen her play cards, but he played reasonably well and he loved poker. He had wagered, and won or lost, a bet or two, before.

“Not yet. Let’s start with something simple, first.” she said.

“OK.” he laughed as he dealt their hands.

She looked at them, but did not move to pick them up. He looked at her. He waited. It seemed for a long time, as if she were trying to work something out.

“I want to go home, George.” she said. “I want to go home, now.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Now, George.”

He looked at her, puzzled by her tone, but realizing the gravity of her words.

“Honey, you know that we can’t go until they are sure you are alright.”

“I am alright. I want to go, now.”

“Your Doctors haven’t discharged you, yet.”

Suddenly, she stood up and in an effort to move away from the table and run away from him, she knocked her chair over and stumbled backwards. When she recovered her balance, she picked up the chair and threw it across the room at him then she ran to the opposite corner of the room.

“Fuck You! I want to go, now!” she screamed at him. “Get me out of here! Get me out of here!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“Leave me alone or take me home. If you don’t take me, I’ll call a cab.”

“Honey, relax. It’s OK.”

“Shut up! Shut up!” she screamed, with her eyes closed and her fists clenched. She continued, looking all around the room, “I have to go, NOW!”

She yanked out her Intravenous access port. Blood bubbled out and oozed down to her fingertips then dripped onto the floor mixing with the fluid that was escaping through the catheter from the IV bag of normal saline. She wiped the side of her face, bloodying her grey hair and gown. When she pushed the monitors down, George attempted to hold her.

“No. No. If you touch me, I will knock your fucking head off.”

A male and female nurse came quickly.

She screamed even louder, “Get me out of here!” with a voice that George had never heard before.

He looked at the demon that had replaced his wife. With strength that George never knew she had before, she pushed him away and he was unable to hold her. She threw down the bedside table and her IV pole trying to get around him and out of the room. She frantically pulled on her nightgown as if it were on fire. It became a bloody mess. The veins in her neck bulged. Her eyes were wide open, glaring and red. As she screeched at him, the spittle flew out of her mouth.

“What happened?” asked the Nurse.

“I don’t know. She just started screaming.”

He was confused.

“Police! Call the Police! Get him away from me!” she screamed.

He thought, “They are really going to lock me up, now.”

She turned to the nurse.

“Get him away from me! Now!”

They ushered George out of the room.

Six hours later, Trinity was lucid again. George stood to the side in the room as her doctors examined her. He leaned back against the wall, his palms pressed to it, behind him. He stared at the floor. She looked to him for reassurance, but he would give her none. Dr. Tanower stayed after the others left.

He said, “As anticipated, she had a ‘disconnect’ from reality brought on by post traumatic stress disorder and high levels of the psychotropic Chloroform.”

George shook his head.

“Do you remember what happened earlier, today?” he asked her.

She kept looking at George, “I know it must have been something bad because he won’t look at me.”

George raised his head and smiled at her. It was a fake smile and she knew it.

“Do you know what happened to cause you to be in hospital, now?”

“I don’t know.”

“What is the last thing you remember before being in this hospital?”

“I remember talking to George about flowers.”

“Do you like to garden?”

“No.”

“What did you talk about flowers?”

“I don’t remember.”

“George said that you were learning to ride.”

“Yes. I was.”

“Do you remember the last time that you went riding?”

“Yes.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“I think I was thrown off.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I broke my arm. They put a cast on it, but….” she said while looking down at her arm, “……I don’t have it anymore.”

“Tell me what you remember from that day.”

“I was riding with my friend. Something startled my horse. I fell and I couldn’t get up.”

“Describe what happened.”

“All I remember is that I was on my back falling deeper and deeper and around and around into a black hole and I kept trying to hold onto something to stop falling. Then, I felt like I was dreaming and I couldn’t wake up in the dream, so I kept telling myself not to panic because I know that I would eventually wake up. It felt the same way. That’s how I kept myself from panicking”

“Who is your friend?”

“Tasha?”

The Psychiatrist looked at George. George offered no clarification. He was exhausted.

“Who is Tasha?”

“I don’t really remember.”

George was alarmed by that, his eyes and mouth opened wide, in shock. The look on his face caused Dr. Tanower to tell Trinity that he would come back after Lunch. He asked George to step out with him.

“Can you tell me who Tasha is?”

George was exhausted. He answered in one long anguished monotone, “Tasha is her best friend from when she was a child on the Island. They were more like sisters. She passed away year before last.”

He stopped for a second and said, “From what I know, she was not with Tasha when she was thrown off her horse. Trinity told me that Tasha rode herself and would always ask her to go with her, but she wouldn’t. She was only learning again because I asked her to, so that she could go out with me and the boys.”

He shook his head, “My stable manager, Jacki Mellon, was riding with her the day that she was abducted. She and her brother conspired to kill Trinity to spite me because I fired him from the Bank when he spoke about a confidential matter concerning Tasha’s account.”

“When the boys and I went to London, she took Trinity out to meet him and that is when he abducted her. She was only in the stables because I told her to go. But, I think she is mixing up the two events.”

Dr. Tanower nodded his head as he listened to George.

“What I do know is that there is no way in hell, that she would forget who Tasha is, if she were in her right mind.”

George stopped, unable to speak then his voice quivered, “I brought her all the way here. I made her ride. I fired the man who abducted her to spite me. My employee helped to abduct her. If she had never met me, none of this would have happened.”

“No, George. It is entirely the fault of the persons who abducted her. It was their choice to do it.” He added, “You are overwhelmed. You have experienced the abduction of your wife, thought she was dead twice, threatened with arrest, found out she was alive and just when you thought it was all over, you are now watching her go through a psychological break from reality. Added to that, is the uncertainty about her having contracted life altering infections.”

George gazed at a generic picture of a windmill in the countryside that hung on the wall. He thought that he would give anything to be there, instead of where he was. Dr. Tanower noticed this.

“You are seeing your wife in a way that you never would have thought possible. And now, you are living with the perceived guilt of causing it all. You have to be exhausted.”

“Yes. I want to go home, too.”

“We expected this, George.”

“Is she really the person that I saw this morning? Has she gone crazy?”

“No. You must believe that that is not Trinity.”

George went back to join her. Their dinner had just been set on the table for them.

“Hmmm, a nice thick juicy rare steak and baked potato.” she said picking up the utensils to start eating.

She held them over the plate. George watched to see what she would do. An agonizing few seconds passed. She looked as if she were remembering something.

“This must be yours, then.” she said, passing the plate to him. “I have the quiche and salad.”

Both of them laughed. Trinity took George’s hand and kissed it. He felt much better.

“I am sorry that I upset you.” she said.

He leaned over the table and kissed her.

After lunch, Dr. Tanower returned.

“Mrs. Ponsby, can we resume our talk where we left off?

“Yes.”

“Tell me about Tasha.”

“She is my best friend.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Just before she died.”

George was relieved that she remembered that.

“When did she pass away?”

“I don’t remember.”

George felt gutted.

“No. She passed away two years ago. She was very sick.”

He had to stop himself from commenting.

“Tell me about her.”

“She was a Grand Duchess, descended from the Romanov Tsars with lots of jewels, priceless art, mansions, a yacht the size of a cruise ship, a humongous plane and nearly three billion pounds. She left them all to me and my daughter when she died. She also left her mother a diamond consortium, so she is raking it in, too.”

George held his mouth to stop himself laughing. The Psychiatrist looked at George. He would never discount, as confusion, anything that a patient told him.

“Yes, that is true.” George agreed, chuckling.

Dr. Tanower finished his examination then spoke with George again in private.

“I don’t want to push the issue about her abduction, right now. Let her mind rest for a moment. She’ll tell us when she is ready.”

Going back into the room, Dr. Tanower wrote his notes in her chart.

“Alright, Trinity, I am going to discharge you. You can go home on one condition. You must come and see me once a week. Is that OK?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Come on, Honey, let’s get out of here.” George said happily.

The hospital was a military hospital so they were not allowed to give her caregivers any gifts, but they thanked everyone for her care as they went downstairs and slipped into a non-descript van, unnoticed. On their arrival at the estate, the van pulled through the security gate without the press camped outside being aware. Once through, the driver pulled into their covered garage and its doors closed quickly.

They entered the staircase that took them to their suite of rooms. There, Uncle Fred, Aunt Janice, Nica, Ericka and Gerald were playing Monopoly. Alex, Jase, Bain and Jet were watching football.

“Hello, everyone.” she said.

Everyone’s head turned towards her. Gerald and Alex quickly got up to embrace her and their father. Nica dropped the board game’s iron and top hat and wrapped her arms around her mother. Everyone else waited to greet her. Nica stepped aside to give the others a chance. Uncle Fred and Aunt Janice were the last. He asked them to hold hands and led them, in thanks, with a traditional song:

Bless the Lord, O my soul,

And, all that is within me,

Bless His holy name!

He has done great things

Bless His holy name.

Aunt Janice began, Uncle Fred harmonized and the others joined in:

Great is Thy faithfulness, great is Thy faithfulness,

Morning by morning, new mercies I see.

All that I needed, Thy hand has provided,

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.

All of them joined in the second verse. They all knew it. It was also Tasha’s favourite Anglican hymn.

After they all had dinner, George banished them all out of his suite of rooms, except for Nica. He took a shower while she and Trinity talked on the sofa in the outside lounge area. Trinity told her that she didn’t remember much. Nica put her head in her mother’s lap, just like she did as a child. She cried in despair at what her mother went through and she cried in joy that she had been returned. Trinity stroked her forehead.

“Sshh, ssshh,” she said, “It’s OK. I’m here, now. Ssshh. Let your mind be at rest.”

When they hugged and kissed goodnight, Trinity closed the outer door and locked it, a practice that she never remembered to do before.

She thought that George was awfully quiet. She found him asleep, with his white towel still wrapped around his waist, his face smashed into his pillow, his briefs in his hand and snoring. He was so exhausted that he must have fallen asleep the moment he sat on the bed. She pulled the blanket over him and kissed him goodnight.

She took a shower in the fully marbled bathroom then went to his cedar walled dressing room to get his robe. She wanted to feel the comfort of having it envelop her while she dried her hair. She wondered what happened to the mirror. She and George found the ten by five foot frame of wheat sheaves in pieces in an antique shop in Pimlico. The frame was solid oak, now brilliantly restored with gold leaf scroll embellishments.

After she was finished, she laid his robe on the divan at the foot of the bed then slipped into bed beside him. He turned to pull her close and they both slept at ease again. George slept until evening the next day when every news station carried the press conference concerning them.

The Chief Inspector said, “We are happy to inform you that Mrs. Trinity Ponsby is alive and well and has been returned to her family and husband, Mr. George Ponsby. Mrs. Ponsby was found in the bedsit in which her abductor, Mr. Callum Mellon, was shot and killed. His sister, Ms. Jacki Mellon, the stable manager for the Ponsbys, has been arrested and charged with abduction and accessory to attempted murder. An accomplice, so far we only know him as Carney, was found in the van apparently dead before the fire started.”

“What was the motive of the abduction?” asked the reporter.

“Mr. Mellon was dismissed from his position as a Security Officer at the Bank of Britannia by Mr. Ponsby. No more questions will be answered pending further investigation.” said the Police Officer.

George’s PA followed, with a news feed from outside of the estate’s gates.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ponsby would like for me to tell the entire nation that they are truly humbled and thankful for all of your concern and efforts made to return Mrs. Ponsby to her family. In time she will thank you all, herself. Right now, she is grateful to be home.”

The press brigade at the conference and outside the gates of the estate went wild. Reporters screamed out questions, the seizure inducing flash from the cameras could be seen even as far as the house. Each reporter tried to get the story before others did.

“What happened to Mrs. Ponsby when in the hands of her abductors?”

“Was she injured?”

“Was she raped?”

What happened to Trinity?

Days later and George still had not asked her what she remembered about the abduction. As they lay in bed one rainy night, Trinity felt that he was avoiding conversation. He was always a gentleman, but it seemed to her as if he were afraid of her.

One night, she said, “I remember a little bit of what happened.”

He looked at her, but he was not forthcoming with a need or want to know.

“Do you think we should talk about it, now?”

“I would prefer talking to you than to anyone else.”

“I think maybe you should wait.”

“OK.”

Since Jet returned to the Island with Nica and Jase, he called them regularly. This time George called him.

“I don’t know what she is going to do if she has another breakdown like she did in the hospital. I know that she had one before. She said that she was close to killing someone, a distant relative, she told me.”

“Yes, I know. She has been up front about it. Tasha told me one of the biggest regrets she ever had was turning her back on Trinity, then, when she needed her most.”

“I have children. I can’t put them in harm’s way. I don’t know what to say or do. I feel on edge. I can’t tell her that I am afraid, after seeing what she did in the hospital.”

“That’s understandable.”

“I don’t want to talk about it and she wants me to, but I have brought so much hurt to her already, it would kill me to know that other things happened to her.”

“Like what?”

“You know.”

“The thought of that causes dread in me, too. We are all hoping that that didn’t happen, but would that change how much you love her?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

Both men considered that answer.

“George, are you going to allow that scum to hurt you more, even now that he is dead? Why don’t you speak to the psychiatrist about this?”

“I don’t want any shrinks in my head. I don’t want any psychoanalysis or hypnosis or crystal balls or ink blot tests. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to get on with it.”

“By avoiding her and the topic? How long would you keep that up for?”

“I feel like I cannot handle that, Jet. I want to kill him myself for that and feel some satisfaction in knowing that I killed him. Now, he has escaped me. There is nothing I can do.”

“Really? You would have sought your revenge? Where would God have been in that plan?”

“Yeah, where was God in my life to allow this to happen? Why make Trinity and me suffer so much pain?”

“Do you hear yourself? It wasn’t God that did that. You know that. Do you remember telling me that the devil has fun going hard after God’s servants because he is already assured of sinners? Do you remember Job? Tasha said that she heard you reminding her of Job’s suffering when she was in hospital.”

“Yes, but now I am beginning to wonder. If God knows the future, why make Job suffer so, just to prove a point to Satan. He could have just told Satan to go fuck himself.”

“That’s a good point, George. Great theologian have not answered that to my satisfaction.” After a pause, he asked, “Have you even been to Church since you got back?”

“No. Trinity can’t go out yet.”

“Did you ask her?”

“No.”

He decided to let George be, for the time being. He had to conclude their conversation.

“I’m heading to Whistler. I invited Ali to go skiing with me. We both want to see if we can make a better go of our marriage.”

“I’m glad for you, Jet.”

“Do you think that Janice and Fred and Trinity would agree?”

“Yes, I do. You can’t avoid Janice and Fred so you might as well have the conversation with them. You are a part of the family and the Foundation.”

“If we decide to give it a go, then I will tell them.”

“Does Ali know about Tasha? Would she want you to be a part of our family?”

“That’s a deal breaker, George. I will never deny Tasha.” Jet said adding, “But, anyway, we’ll talk when I get back. My takeoff is cleared.”

The next day, George told Trinity, “I’m clearing out the stables and when Leo is returned, I will re-house all of the horses.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because it nearly got you killed.” he said, raising his voice.

“You don’t have to do that. I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Would you ever go back on a horse again?”

“Maybe not right now, George, but don’t make that kind of decision because of what happened. You still ride. The children ride. If you make that kind of grand gesture, I’ll feel really bad.”

“What do you want me to do? I don’t know what else to do. How can I fix this?” he asked in frustration.

“You don’t have to fix me or anything. Just listen to me when I try to tell you what I remember.” she said to him, her voice raised.

“I don’t know if I can live with what you want to tell me……about…about what he did to you!” he screamed back.

There it was, out in the open. She stared at him for a while. Instantly, he was sorry he said it.

“OK, Now I get it. You think that I am damaged goods; soiled, and you can’t love me if he did that to me.” she scoffed. “Really, Saint George? Really?”

“No. No. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s…too…late.” she sneered through her teeth, as she slammed her towel down onto the bathroom counter.

She walked away and went to the kitchen to bake bread. As she kneaded the dough, she thought about what George said to her and her anger grew. His words hurt her.

In frustration, George walked out of the house to meet Mr. Cruickshank, one of the grounds men, to cut a Christmas tree. He walked with his felling axe over his shoulder, through the grove. She could see him, through the kitchen window, gesturing to Mr. Cruickshank as he selected the best one and was determining what angle to make it fall at. Mr. Cruickshank waited on the side of him with a chainsaw.

George then stood alongside the tree with the axe in hand and started swinging hard, extending his arms fully with each swing then running his hand along the shaft to bring the axe head back to position to swing again. Each chop to the tree was a hit to Callum Mellon’s head. He didn’t stop until the tree started to come down then he jumped to the side, out of its way. As Trinity watched him, her anger abated.

She forgot about her needs and reminded herself that her abduction not only had a psychological impact on her, but on him, as well. He was handling something that he had never had to before and so she had to be patient with him, too. His psychological well being was just as important.

George and Mr. Cruickshank loaded the tree on the back of the tractor and brought it into the house. They stood it up for Trinity to inspect. It was nearly twelve feet tall.

“Thanks, Mr. Cruickshank. We’ll cut the one for upstairs tomorrow. The saplings for planting in spring should have been delivered by now. Can you check on that for me? In any case, we’ll finish up tomorrow.”

George maintained a strict policy of cut one, plant one or two.

“Yes, Sir. Victor has been waiting for them. He’ll take them straight to the greenhouse for wintering. Until tomorrow, then.”

Trinity did not like clutter. She wasn’t a fan of trinkets, bibelot or ornament, except, on a real pine, traditional Christmas tree. No purples and pinks there, for her. Christmas was supposed to be red, green, white and maybe a little gold. She admired the tree.

“It’s beautiful. It’s amazing how you took that monster down.” she told him, softly sliding her fingertips down to the small of his back, lingering there, then going back up again. She felt the muscles along his side then she put her arm around his waist.

“I smell bread.” he purred.

“Yes, for dinner tonight.”

George indicated to Trinity with a tilt of his head to go upstairs. He took her hand and led the way. They found the physical love that they had for each other, again.

As they were being driven out of the estate the next morning in George’s SUV, a wall of strobe like flashes strained their eyes. Trinity always wondered why celebrities were often pictured with their hand or whatever held up to their face. It wasn’t to prevent being photographed. She just realized what it was when it happened to her. It was so that they could see to be able to walk. The flashes were blinding.

“Good Morning Trinity. Good Morning George. How have you been?” asked Dr. Tanower.

“Good Morning. Good, thank you. And you?” asked George.

“So tell me Trinity, how has it been since your release?”

“It has been frustrating at times. I am remembering what happened.”

“What do you remember?”

“I remember that I went out riding with our Stable Manager, Jacki. She used her horse, Cyclops, to push my horse, Leo, towards a green van and blocked Leo’s movements by bringing and stopping Cyclops in the front of me. I heard the door of the van open and turned my head towards the sound. I saw faces, briefly and then many hands reached out and grabbed me.”

She added, “They pulled me off the horse. My right foot was stuck in the stirrup, so someone grabbed my leg and yanked it really hard. It twisted the saddle around Leo. I saw Jacki and she wasn’t doing anything to help me. It was the same time as someone put a cloth or something over my face and then it went dark. George told me that it was Jacki’s brother who he dismissed from the bank.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I know that some people are just evil. I was with Jacki the whole morning when this happened. I would never have believed she could do something like that. What hurts is that it came from inside my home. Someone we trusted and would have done anything for. People are dismissed from their jobs for one reason or another every day. They don’t go on to commit crimes, like her and her brother, Callum.”

She added, “It reminds me of a woman by the name of Cali. I welcomed her into my home on the Island during a hurricane and she plotted to kill me, too. But, a tree fell on her and killed her, instead, and my Uncle Howard was electrocuted by a downed electrical transformer. That bothers me every day because, I feel that if I had not brought him to the house during the Hurricane then he would still be alive.”

George sat with his fingers interlaced and pressed his thumbs together.

She looked at George and said, “I know Dr. Tanower finds it hard to believe these fantastic things that I tell him.”

“Anyone would, Darling.” he replied back with a nervous laugh.

“Alright, I will address that later. What else do you remember about your abduction?”

“I wanted to tell George, but he was concerned that I may not have been ready to speak about it. I remember I saw two men when I was trying to wake up in the van. One of them sat in the back of the van with me, flipping cards at my head. I was trying to knock the cards out of my face, but I couldn’t move my hands. Then one of them put something over my nose and I fell down the black hole again.”

“That would be the effect of the psychotropic Chloroform that you remember as being down a black hole. That effect has been recorded before in Psychiatric studies. What do you remember in relation to what happened in the hospital with George?”

“He brought out playing cards and I got frightened because I saw the man flipping them at me, again. I thought he may have come back to take me away.”

“Now, I understand.” George said.

She held his hand and paused. Dr. Tanower allowed her the time to reflect and to speak when she was ready. She looked down at their entwined fingers for a long time. Tears welled up in her eyelids. She swallowed to clear her throat to say the words, but it was a hoarse whisper.

She said, “He is afraid that I may have been raped.” She rethought her words then said, “No, I shouldn’t put that all on him. I am afraid to know if they did that to me, as well. Wouldn’t Callum think that that would be the ultimate way to hurt George? I don’t think that any of his actions were about me.”

Her words stung George hard and reverberated in his head, but they were true.

“Have you been intimate, as yet?” he asked George.

“Yes.”

“Even before you knew whether or not she was exposed to and had acquired the HIV virus? Weren’t you afraid.” asked Dr. Tanower in a non-judgmental tone.

“She is my wife for life. We are in this together. Either we are both going to have it or we both are not. But, quite frankly, I had forgotten about it at that moment.” George answered.

“Was there any perceived difference between then and from before you were abducted?”

“No.” answered Trinity.

“Well let’s address the issue, right now. So far, from the preliminary studies, no DNA was found in or around your genitals, pelvis or mouth or underwear that was not that of your husband.”

“Yes, we were intimate the morning of her abduction.” George added.

“There was none from the abductors. Their DNA was only found on your outer clothes and on your wrists and ankles, we presume deposited there when he was tying you to the bed.” Dr. Tanower affirmed. “You also tested negative for bacterial STDs. You have already started an anti retroviral protocol for HIV, but since no DNA other than you husband’s was found on you, I believe there is no worry about that. The protocol still has to continue, though.”

Trinity looked at George. She started to tremble and sob. George rubbed her back and held her hand then kissed her forehead.

George spoke, “I am so relieved. Not because, as she thinks, I would have loved her any less.”

“Why, then?”

“It is because, I would have been responsible for bringing her here and causing that kind of indignity to happen to her and I couldn’t do any thing about it.”

“What would you have done about it?”

“I would have killed him. I mean it. He escaped justice. I need him to suffer for what he did to her. My heart nearly gave out on me. Our daughter, Nica, was near collapse. Her family and friends were devastated.”

“And, you thought that she was dead twice so he hurt you pretty bad. That was his intention. We also believe that he kept Trinity alive to use as a hostage if he were to be unable to elude the police.”

George looked at the ground and shook his head. “That bastard hurt a lot of people.”

Trinity said, “It was not your fault. You didn’t do anything to make Callum and Jacki kidnap me. Their own evil made them do it. I thank God, each day, for your love. I am here, where I want to be, and, I would not change anything for the world. I am, so very much, looking forward to the rest of this wonderful life that you are spending with me.”

George was relieved. He needed to hear that. He broke down in fits of sobs and as he did, his shoulders heaved with each one. Trinity brought him closer to her and stroked his back. Dr. Tanower left the room and came back fifteen minutes later. When he did, he touched George and Trinity on their shoulders. George was now composed.

“I’ll see you next week.” he told them.

“Please, just one more question, Dr. Tanower.” George asked, looking at Trinity.

“Sure.” Dr. Tanower replied.

“We have decided to keep the stables. Whether Trinity rides again would be up to her. But, I have to remove Jacki Mellon’s things off of our property. I want to burn the whole lot.”

Dr. Tanower nodded to acknowledge his feelings.

“Anyway, I agreed to ask you what we should do. I have no problem going in there and fumigating her existence out of our lives. She helped her brother and he is dead, so she is going to have to be my scapegoat for a while.”

“I want to help him, but he said we should ask you. He’s afraid that I might freak out again.”

Addressing Trinity, he said, “Let George do it. He needs to do that. Whatever the Investigators have not already taken, send to the Chief Inspector.”

Dr. Tanower asked, “Have you been out as yet?”

“This is the first time. We believe that, even now, the press camped outside our gates have followed us.”

“You can’t hide in your home. At some point you will no longer be the topic of conversation and they would have moved on to the next story. George, weren’t you supposed to have received a Knighthood. When will your Investiture take place?”

“It was supposed to have been in September, before we were going on our honeymoon. After Trinity was taken, The Central Chancery, very graciously, allowed us to select another date, but I’m not quite concerned about it.”

“When will you be going back to work?”

“I am not quite in that frame of mind, yet. I think I will just go ahead and confirm my retirement date. Trinity and I have to discuss it some more.”

Back at the Estate, Trinity and George gathered for lunch with all of their staff, except for the Security Personnel patrolling the estate. They had a different set up as demanded by the Foundation, for Trinity, and they were paid for by the Foundation. The company that was contracted had former soldiers, military and defense personnel and secret service men on their staff. They were elite and extremely expensive, but Uncle Fred, Aunt Janice, Nica and Jet were insistent. George wanted to pay for the security himself, but he was outnumbered.

After lunch, George stood and told them, “Through our hard times, you all remained loyal and devoted to my wife and me. You protected us from the press and remained confidential about everything. That was greatly appreciated by our family. So, to all of you, thank you.”

After a short pause, he said, “We are happy to tell you, that all of you will be on paid leave from tomorrow, December 21st to January 2nd to be with your families.”

Everyone gasped, “Ahh”.

“Oh. That’s wonderful.” said Cleo, one of the PAs.

“I can’t believe that. That is so kind.” said Mr. Cruickshank, the head grounds man. “That would give me time to visit my grandchildren.

“I can go home. Thank You.” said Elise, the head chef.

“Do ye believe that?” asked Mrs. James. “I can be with my grand babies, too.”

There were more comments flying about.

Continuing George said, “Trinity and I will cook for ourselves and wash our own dishes and make a mess, I’m sure.”

“That’s OK, Mr. Ponsby, I don’t mind. I am so happy to have the time off. We’ll take care of it when we get back.” said Angeline, a housekeeper.

“Also, please accept our gratitude that we have tried to reflect within the cards that you will receive.” said George.

As everyone ate dessert, George and Trinity went around to each of the fourteen staff members and gave them a cheque for five thousand Pounds Sterling.

“Thank you so much. You don’t know how much this will mean to my family. My wife was sick for a long time. I want to take her and the children on a little trip.” said Albert, one of the estate stewards.

“I am so grateful for your gift. To feel appreciated like this is very kind” said Mrs. Gunner, one of the housekeeping staff.

“My husband lost his job when the shoe factory closed. I didn’t know how we would be able to make our mortgage payment or even get anything for the kids this year.” said Alice, another of the housekeepers.

“My father is very sick in Aberdeen. I wasn’t sure if I could go to spend what may be his last Christmas with him. Thank you so much” said Allen, one of the grounds men.

“Me, I am going to get an engagement ring and ask my girl to marry me” said Kyle, one of the stable hands.”

“Kyle, before you leave this evening, may I please have a word with you?” asked George.

“Yes, Sir” he replied. George and Trinity moved on.

Victor, another of the grounds men told them, “I was studying Botany at the University and had to stop going to classes because of my poor finances. This will help me to get though a few semesters.”

Many more statements of appreciation came from them. George and Trinity learned more about the lives of the people that they had entrusted to keep his family functioning.

Before the staff all left, Kyle came to George’s office.

“Please close the door and have a seat.”

George sat on the edge of his desk. Kyle looked at him, nervously.

“I have avoided going to the stables. Please, tell me how things are going there?”

“No one has been riding except for me and Mr. Cruickshank to exercise them. I didn’t even know that he rode. Then I let them run about. I do everything that Ms. Mellon did until another stable manager is found.”

“Have you been in her office?”

“I had to. I didn’t want to bother you while everything was going on. All of the manuals and charts for the horses’ care are in there. I had to go on the computer to get the plan for their medical needs. Also, I had to order more hay and beets and apples.” Kyle answered.

George nodded, as he mentally ticked off what needed to happen.

Kyle added, “The black stallion from Dubai came in last week. He is beautiful. He is ready to sire. I had the arrival of the two fillies from Kentucky delayed until everything was back to normal. They will arrive the first week in February. I also took delivery of the freezers to store the ejaculates.”

“I heard that you were doing an excellent job and taking charge very well. I am going to take care of the stables while you are on leave. Can you come in just for a little while in the morning? I want to pack up Ms. Mellon’s things and ship them out. I want you to tell me what has to be done while you are gone.”

“Yes, Sir, I’ll see you at six am.”

Later that night, Trinity said to George, “Sometimes, we forget that the people who work for us have challenges in their own lives, because they do their jobs so well for us. I really do appreciate that they do.”

They pledged to take care of the expenses that anyone had due to medical issues or aspirations for an education.

The next morning when it was absolutely quiet and a dense mist still hung over everything, George met Kyle already at the stables. They walked around as George inspected. Kyle brought him up to date. The horses looked to be in excellent condition. The stables were as spotless as they could be. What was supposed to be was, and what was not supposed to be, wasn’t.

After the inspection, they went into the office. Jacki’s things were packed up and the boxes were labeled for shipment. Surprisingly to George, he had no emotion towards it. Her things meant nothing to him; her red cardigan, chocolates in the drawer, tea mugs, shoes, hats, a scarf, boots, raincoat, nothing.

He threw everything in the boxes with the same feelings as he would have shoveling a dung pile into a wheelbarrow. The small food refrigerator in the office was emptied and the food items thrown away.

Kyle told George about the routine. He added, “If you need any assistance, just call over to Dr. Albertson. His cell number is in the rolodex. I already spoke to him this morning. He will be nearby all of Christmas and he said that if there is a problem you must call him and you two can handle it.”

“Thank You. That was very considerate.”

At the end of the inspection, George said, “I would like to have you as the stable’s manager to take over Ms. Mellon’s duties. You will have all of the salary and benefits that she used to have and I’ll make your salary payments retroactive from the time she was taken into custody. We’ll send you on some courses as well. Is that OK with you?”

“Yes, Sir! It is!”

“OK, then. I’ll see you when you get back.” George said as he patted Kyle on the shoulder.

“Thank You. Thank You. Merry Christmas, Sir.” Kyle said with a new confidence in his voice and a crisper stride.

Then, his attention turned back to the boxes. He called Trinity to show her what he found. He taped up them up and left them in the garage until the next time that they went out, when they would take them to the post office.

Trinity shrugged. George shrugged. That was it. Done. Good riddance.

Christmas

Gerald and Alex came home for their Christmas break both finally relieved to have caught up and finished their classes. When Trinity was abducted, naturally, they missed days to be with their father. They fell behind but they both were very focused in their studies and eventually caught up. They knew that their father would not have accepted any excuse for poor grades.

Now, they were excited to come home for a few days then leave for the Island to spend Christmas with Nica, Jase, Aunt Janice and Uncle Fred. They could not wait to see Junkanoo. As the time approached their excitement grew.

If they had their choice, they would leave school and go straight to the Island, but two of their friends, Andy and Lewellyn, were coming with them so they had to wait until their parents brought them to the house on December 21st early in the morning and they, the parent’s included, had breakfast with Trinity and George.

Captains Bain and Ek flew the Aurora to take them to the Island, arriving later in the morning of the 21stthen they took a helicopter from the airport to the estate. Since the helicopter was reserved for the day, the pilots stayed at the estate and they joined them all for lunch. When they were waved off that evening, as soon as they were out of sight, George pulled Trinity to him and kissed her deeply. If Alex and Ger had seen this, George and Trinity would have been told to ‘get a room’.

One time, George answered, “OK, Sweetheart, pick one and let’s go.”

Ger shook his head, and covered his ears as George led Trinity away.

Alex said, “‘Nooooooooo! That is too much information.”

They were in their ‘parents are embarrassing’ phase. George was only joking, but it solicited the reaction that he wanted. He and Trinity laughed heartily as they made their way to the next room. They both fell on the sofa and stayed there for a while with their legs entwined.

Now, George had his arms around Trinity’s waist as they came back inside. George told her, “I’ll make dinner tonight if you make some Conch Chowder and Johnny Cake for dinner, Christmas Eve night. Then, I’ll cook on Christmas Day. I’ll have a young goose and capons with stuffing, caramelized onions, roasted potatoes and carrots, parsnips, green beans with almonds, sprouts, cranberry sauce and pudding and pumpkin pie for me and lobster and stuffed salmon for you and me.”

Trinity swung her head and shoulders around to face him. “What?”

“You heard right. It’s Christmas Day. I am supposed to eat a lot, but the side dishes are for you, too.”

“Oh, right then.”

“What are we doing, tomorrow?” he asked as they both swayed from side to side.

She indicated with her thumb in the hitchhiker position, “One, I have to get warmer clothes, especially coats. I’m starting to freeze.”

With her thumb and index finger, she said, “Two, we have to bring in the wood so that we can start using the fireplace.”

And so forth until she reached a full hand and a thumb again.

“We need to go to the farmer’s market. You said you wanted to pick up some gardening things and Nica also texted that she and Jase want to Skype tomorrow evening six o’clock our time. By that time, the kids should have already settled in.”

“Well then, let’s get a move on.” he said while nuzzling her neck.

The next day, early in the afternoon, George and Trinity sat near the smaller Christmas tree in their bedroom suite’s landing, lazily reading the papers and soaking up the scent of the pine. The aroma from this and the twelve foot tree down stairs permeated the house.

“You look like you are about to go back to sleep right here.”

“I love the scent of pine at Christmas. It is like catnip to me. Is it true that you can distinguish one type of pine from the other, just by its scent? I mean, they are all pine, right.” she asked.

“Yes you can, especially if you have been brought up and lived around pine trees. This tree is a different pine from the one downstairs. I’ll teach you.”

Later, she rode with George on the tractor, down to the sheep shelter, where they unloaded two bales of hay and put out some corn and green cut foliage from the other side of the estate. Then they went into the greenhouse and picked arugula, radishes, fennel and some old heritage tomatoes.

“I’ve been thinking…..I want to put in an orangery…..how about that?” he asked.

“What is it?”

“It’s where we can grow Key limes, Persian limes, Meyer lemons, grapefruits, clementines, tangerines, oranges and sour oranges and Ugli fruit. When I was on the Island, all of these were growing at The Reef. I love the different flavours. Anyway, I should say I’ll try to grow them. I don’t know how successful I’ll be. I may have to get Janice to help me.”

“I’m sure she will know what an Orangery is, being the avid gardener that she is, but I do miss just going in the yard and picking them fresh off the tree.”

“OK. I am going to work on that.”

He prepared the salad then went to the kitchen table to respond to mail on his laptop. The landscaper sent their video of the planting at the Grand Duchess’ tomb. Both of them watched and thought they were doing an excellent job. George commented with great interest, but Trinity was distracted.

She sat by George for their Skype session with Gerald, Alex, Nica and Jase.

“Hi, Mum, Hi George.” said Nica

“Hi, Dad. Hi, Trinity” said by both Alex and Ger.

“Hello. How’s it going?”

Gerald started right away. “Dad, we live on the beach. We were in the water all day. We snorkeled and even went on banana boat rides then we went jet skiing and parasailing from a boat docked inside the Pearl. It has a huge waterslide that feels just like being on a roller coaster. Dad…..there is even a car, ATVs and scooters that stays on The Pearl. Isn’t that cool?”

“Yes, that’s pretty cool.”

“The Captain said that they have a Helipad, as well, but most of the time the helicopter is on land, but uncle Jet is going to take us flying day after tomorrow. We are supposed to be going to Atlantis tomorrow with our sister, Nica.” Gerald said.

Trinity smiled and said, “That’ll hold you.” to George.

“I know that she is your sister, Ger.”

Ger knocked himself on the head when he realized what he had said.

“But, she said only if I can tell her a one hundred word short story about the Pirates.”

“Have you seen Atlantis, Dad?” Alex asked.

“I have.” replied George.

“I have to tell her a story, too, on what Atlantis is. It’s the resort right?”

“No, I think she means, the ancient Atlantis.”

“Aaahhhhh. Good lookin’ out, Dad.”

Alex asked, “Did you know that pigs can swim and Iguanas that look like small dragons will eat out of your hand?” Then he said, “I spent a lot of time going around The Pearl, too. It’s been fantastic.”

Gerald said, “Some of the crew and Nica and Jase spearfished. They brought up some monstrous Crawfish and Groupers. One Grouper that Nica brought up was almost as big as she was. She needed my help to bring it on board. But, they wouldn’t let us go with them until we had lessons.” he added, dejectedly.

“I absolutely agree.”

“They showed us how to kill and clean the Crawfish and Grouper. Then we grilled them. Dad, they tasted so good.”

“I can see that, both of you…. actually all of you, I can see Andy and Lewellyn in the background, too……. you all look a little baked. I can tell that you are enjoying yourselves.”

“How are your friends doing?”

George and Trinity heard from the background, “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Ponsby. We are great!”

“Have you chatted with your parents, yet?” asked George.

“Yes, Sir, just before we started with you.”

“Good. We’ll call them, later.”

Trinity said, “Nica and Jase, make them put on their sunscreen. It won’t be much fun for them, anymore, if they get sunburned.”

“I try, Mum, but it is so hard to hold them down.”

George and Trinity laughed. “Boys, four boys, maybe she has her hands full?” said George.

“Actually, I am having a wonderful time. Jase and I are getting a little vacation and life is getting back to normal. We are just so happy that you are OK. And, my ‘brothers’”….…she said, smiling, as she turned her head towards them……. “are great to have around. Aunt Janice loves having the house full. Mum, you know that she really enjoys putting up the Christmas trees and decorations, bringing in food, planning menus, assigning staff, all the things you do for Christmas, but she didn’t do the last two years since Goddie died.”

“I’m glad. Having all of you with her is therapeutic.”

“She and Uncle Fred fished from The Pearl while we were out on the jet skis then they grilled everything on the beach on the Cay. They got to see the swimming pigs on Pig Beach and feed the Iguanas near Staniel Cay. It’s been great.”

“Alex and Ger, you mind your manners and do what you are told. Don’t let me down.”

“Yes, Dad.” said Gerald. He also added, “Dad, they have a theatre with a popcorn machine and a soda fountain for drinks and there is a hot tub, a sauna, a gym room, a two lane bowling alley, a pin ball machine game room and an infinity pool, overlooking the ocean and even a beauty salon and barber shop!”

“And, a wine cellar, a tennis court, a basketball court and go-carts.” added Alex.

“I know.” replied George. He whispered to Trinity, sarcastically, “I’m beginning to feel that I brought them up inadequately, now. How can I compete with that?”

“Dad, we have to go. Aunt Janice and Uncle Fred are having a moonlight dinner cruise on the Pearl tonight, so we have to get ready. They have invited some of their friends and Captain Bain and his wife Ericka and their children, Giselle and Monique are coming, too. I looked out just now and the moon is so bright and the sea looks like a mirror.” Alex added.

“Isn’t Captain Ek coming?” asked Trinity.

“I think I heard Captain Bain say that he went home for a visit.” replied Alex.

“It sounds as if we will not get them back. But, a moonlight dinner cruise? How come I didn’t get one?” George asked Trinity.

Hearing the question to Trinity, Alex said, “Well, Dad, as far as Aunt Janice is concerned, no matter how young you were, you never had your cherubic charm on, like me and Ger.”

George looked at Trinity and rolled his eyes. Trinity was almost laid out laughing.

“Don’t mind them, Honey.” she soothed him, stroking his cheek. “You have debonair charm.”

All of the kids ran off and Jase came into focus.

Nica said, “There is something that I want to talk to you about. Just a short time after Goddie died I started having panic attacks. Jase made me see one of his colleagues who is a Cardiologist. I didn’t want to say anything until I got it sorted out and then all of the craziness happened.”

Jase said, “With her history, including what happened to her Dad and what is going on with the inheritance, they feel that a lot is that was because of her fear of failure. I agree with that.”

“Oh! Sweetheart.” Trinity said in sympathy.

“So far, they haven’t found any immediate problems with my heart, but they said that I have to be followed for the rest of my life. They also have put me on some anti-anxiety meds which have helped a lot. So I am feeling much better now. But, they are going to follow me closely as panic attacks may mean later cardiovascular disease.”

George responded, “Sweetheart, do you want to do an internship at one of the big accounting and wealth management firms? Think about it. It will help you feel confident that you can handle any situation that comes your way so that you can get over your fears. Fear is natural when you are responsible for a lot of money. Up until the day I retired, I had a fear of making mistakes. I still do, even with my own money. Everyone does. Anyway, I will call my network, but there is no pressure. And, remember, I am always here. Let me know.”

“I didn’t know that, George. I think that I should do an internship. But, I will like to stay in Roanoke with Jase.”

“That can be arranged.” said George.

“Anyway, the kids are having a ball and Jase and I have to get ready. Oh, I forgot. We had to promise Alex and Ger to not embarrass them by ‘snogging’ on the Pearl.”

“Oh! Please embarrass them. They deserve it. Bye.”

“Bye.”

Trinity got up to prepare dinner. George tapped her on the bottom.

“Get it while you can,” she said, “because what you plan on eating on Christmas Day, will lay you out for a while.”

She puckered her lips and blew him a kiss. She tapped on the music console on the wall and selected a traditional Island Goombay song by Blind Blake called The Goombay Rock and she danced for him.

One day I started out upon the Seven Seas

Pretty soon I wound up in the West Indies

An island girl she happened to be there on hand

To greet me as I landed on the tropical sand

I felt that I would melt into her warm embrace

So taken up was I with all her savage grace

But just when Heaven seemed to be so very near

She’d take me by the arm and whisper in my ear

Goombay, goombay, rockin’ to the goombay

Come and do the goombay rock

Although I didn’t understand just what she meant

When I heard that rockin’ tempo I was really sent

It didn’t take me long to get hip to that beat

As I watched the movement of her dancin’ feet

If this had been calypso I’d have been prepared

But now this rockin’ rhythm really had me scared

My spine began to tingle from my head to my toe

And then my native girl, she shouted “Go, man go!”

Every sharp flick of the hem of her very short skirt exposed her butt cheeks and her thong. She stepped with high hipped shuffles to the left then twirled and followed with high hipped shuffles to the right.

He poured himself a gin topped off with coconut water and he watched her move as she danced around him. When he reached out to touch her, she moved away, just a little. She was supple, flexible and rhythmic. Small beads of sweat ran down the small of her back. He stood up and encircled her waist with one arm as he ripped off her thong. His fingers found her warm clitoris. Soon she was moaning.

He undid his belt, pulled her hips down to him and sat her on his hard cock. Without either of them having to use their hands, without either of them moving, she massaged and manipulated his dick with the strength of her vaginal muscles, alone, until his semen mingled with her cum and they both moaned to release.

“What do they teach you girls on the Islands?” he asked, breathing hard.

A half hour later, they came back into the kitchen. In the refrigerator, waiting to be grilled were the wild Salmon filets that she had taken off the bone earlier. Trinity was born and grew up in the Islands where seafood was abundant. She could scale, fillet and cook anything that lived in the water. Trinity laid them in a dish and lightly put a sauce, made from fresh dill, parsley, mustard, lemon, garlic, salt, freshly cracked pepper and butter, over them.

There was something about them that was going on, over and over, in her mind, but she couldn’t quite sort out what it was. As the Salmon cooked on the grill, she started setting their places at the table.

George said, “Jeffrey sent an email asking us how was the Sockeye Salmon that came from the waters on his estate. He is reminding me that he sent them for you. I answered back that we were just going to have some for dinner tonight and I will let him know when we are done. Also, he said he heard that you were a great fisherman and he wants us to visit so that he can teach you to fly fish.”

“George!”

He looked up, startled, “What?”

“That’s it! ‘Sockeye’. George, I woke up one time and I heard Callum and Carney say that ‘Sockeye’ had a big chloroform making business that Callum taught him. She told him what was said as they ate. George listened to her with rapt attention.

As I began to come out of the darkness again, I heard Callum say, “You used up all of the chloroform one time, stupid. Where I am going to get more now that you have been overdosing her?”

“We can get more from Sockeye. He makes a lot of it.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“I sell it for him, sometimes.”

“He sells a lot?”

“Yeah. He sells from three places now.”

“So business must be good. That bugger told me that things were slow. He didn’t want to give me my cut and I taught him the business.”

Realizing that maybe he had made a mistake telling Callum about Sockeye, Carney pleaded, “Don’t tell him I said that.”

Carney was more afraid of Sockeye than he was of Callum. Sockeye was ruthless. He was called Sockeye because he used a patch over his right eye. He could see out of the eye, but the upper eye lid was useless to him. One night in a bar in Glasgow, Sockeye threatened a man who he thought was trying to ‘pull his bird’. He smashed an ale glass and swiped at the man. The other man smashed a vodka bottle and, before the drunken Sockeye could connect with him, brought it right down on Sockeye’s right eyelid.

The glass ripped the eyelid off. Surgeons were unable to connect the fine nerves in the eyelid sufficient for him to open the eye, so it remained fully closed. Another surgeon attempted to improve the situation, but it only left Sockeye with an eyelid that stayed open that he couldn’t close, voluntarily, or blink. Dust and dryness plagued him and he didn’t like how the eye looked, so he starting wearing an eye patch over the eye.

“Do you think that you should call Dr. Tanower and the Chief Inspector in the morning.” asked George.

“We have an appointment with Dr. Tanower in the morning.” replied Trinity.

“I forgot. Well, he can guide you on what to do.”

They finished the rest of their meal animatedly, talking about everything and laughing.

The next morning, George and Trinity went to their appointment, unbothered. There were no more newsmen camped outside their estate. Dr. Tanower welcomed them.

“How has your holiday been going?”

“Great. Quiet. The kids are gone and we gave our staff time off. So it is just George and me and it is glorious.”

“Tell me, have there been any more memories.”

“Yes. A big one.”

“Go on.”

Trinity told him what she remembered.

“Definitely, you should tell the Chief Inspector. Does this memory cause you any concern?”

“Only from the perspective that they are selling something very dangerous to young people who are getting very hooked and just ruining their lives. I know what it did to my head and I could have been killed by it.”

They talked and Dr. Tanower was pleased with her progress.

George said, “Oh, by the way, I cleared out Jacki’s things and boxed them up. It wasn’t as emotional for me as I thought it would be. Trinity didn’t come out as we were packing them up, but she saw inside the boxes when we brought them into the garage.”

“It did not bring up any significant feeling in me either, except that I thought ‘what a waste of the life of a young woman’.” said Trinity.

“We are heading to the Post Office to send them, now. When we get home we will call the Chief Inspector.” George added.

“I am pleased for your progress. Why don’t I see you in one month’s time? Go and enjoy your holiday, Merry Christmas.

“Thank You. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

They both shook his hand.

When George and Trinity got home from the Post Office, they called the Chief Inspector who advised them that he will be sending a Detective to them to get Trinity’s report. He also gave them a number to call to arrange for the return of Leo.

On Christmas Eve, Trinity started cooking the Conch Chowder and Johnny Cake for their dinner. George went to the stables. She saw a small truck pulling a horse trailer park along the stable entrance. Then it left.

“It must be the vet.” she thought.

She saw George lead Cyclops, then Leo, out to the enclosure. She saw him push a wheelbarrow, move hay from one place to the other; things she had seen him do before. Shortly after that, a covered blue truck pulled into the barn. She saw a woman come out. She turned the fire under the chowder off and when the Johnny Cake was finished baking, she took it out of the oven and placed it on the side board to cool.

Then she went down to the utility room and changed. When George saw her, she was walking towards him wearing her jeans and wellington boots.

“Oh no.” George thought.

He did not want her there.

“I came to see Leo and to help.”

Trinity went straight to Leo. She rubbed his nose and his neck. The whip marks on his body had mostly healed. She could only imagine what he had gone through. She took some Christmas peppermint candies in her pocket and held one out to him in her hand. As he chewed, she stroked his nose. He loved it and came back pushing his muzzle into her pocket for more.

“Can I take care of him and his stall?”

“You sure can.”

“How many of these candies can he have at a time?”

“First, let him know that you are sorry for what happened to him and try to convey that you won’t let that happen to him again. And, you don’t do that with words, but by touch. He’ll remember, that even though you were there on the day he was hurt, you weren’t the one who hurt him. Give him one candy when you first meet him and one candy when you leave, so that he is happy to see you.”

“I didn’t know that you were such a horse whisperer.” she said smiling at him.

George looked over his shoulder. The woman in the truck pulled off. George’s attention was brought back to Trinity.

“You can start mucking out then.”

George worked hurriedly and kept Trinity in or close by Leo’s stall. He was very impressed with her. The fact that she even got this far was not lost on him, but he had to keep his secret.

Are you ready?” she asked.

“Ready for what?” he asked.

“To ride.”

“You want to ride?”

“Yes.”

He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, fully. Her arms were held tight to her sides. He kissed her face many times while she squirmed then lifted her and swung her around.

“Let’s go, then.”

He was so happy, but he kept asking her, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” she told him every time.

They came back and George was confident that she did not notice anything. He would have picked up on her vibe if she had done so. They went to the pub in the village and had one too many pints of ale and many laughs. They were joined by Father Stewart and the publican, Malcolm. Their neighbours kept sending drinks over to them.

“It were grand to see you out riding today, Ma’am.”

“Here’s to you, Mrs. Ponsby.” said another, raising his glass.

“All the best to you, Ma’am.”

Trinity was truly appreciative of the warmth and acceptance of the people in that pub that afternoon. They had built up a hearty appetite and went home to enjoy their Christmas Eve dinner of Conch Chowder and Johnny Cake, Island style.

On Christmas morning, just as the sun rose, Trinity and George were still in bed, in an absolutely quiet house, except for the sound of the pendulum in the grandfather clock in the corridor leading to their bedroom suite. She was draped over his back, a position she always found herself in when she awoke. This time she was aware of a sensation around her wrist. Still, with her eyes closed, she brought her hand to brush aside the hair off of her face. Something hit her cheek. Then, she opened her eyes and saw the Cartier Diamond Trinity bracelet on her wrist.

“George?”

“Yes?” he asked, very much alert.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Why?” he asked, “Because my eyes are closed? Can’t I just want to lay down a little longer with my wife?”

She looked at the bracelet again. “Did you do this?”

“Have you got someone else in here?”

“Really, now?”

“OK.” he said laughing as he turned to lie on his back. She laid her head on his shoulder. “It’s from me and the boys, the three entwined full rows of diamonds.” he explained as he showed her. “It is named the Cartier Diamond Trinity bracelet. One full circle of diamonds for Ger, Alex and me. How cool is that?”

“It is gorgeous. Thank You. I love it. I’ll never take it off.” she said as she moved the bracelet around.

She kissed him.

“How did you get in on my wrist without me noticing?”

“You were so knocked out, an earthquake could have happened and you would not have woken up.” he said, chiding her.

“Yeah, yesterday was a little bit of a celebration for me.”

“I know. I was very happy with what you did. I was happy for you.”

They just laid there in the deep plush, white, downy, light as feathers bed.

“That isn’t my only gift, though.” he said intriguingly.

“No?”

They went to very early service at the Church in the village.

Father Stewart said, “We should all be thankful to have our loved ones close. We are grateful to our Lord for the return of Mrs. Trinity Ponsby. Desperate times and desperate people test our faith. Sometimes, we question His love, but goodness and mercy lasts to the end.”

Trinity held onto George’s hand. Everyone turned around to look at her. As they walked to the altar for communion, she received light touches, hugs and smiles. Now, she felt fully a part of this community of believers. The meaning of the outpouring of acceptance of Trinity was not lost on George.

When they came back from Church, George said, “Let’s go have some coffee. I will put the birds in the oven and prepare everything else then I have something to show you.”

While he was making preparations in the kitchen, she called him on the intercom and asked him to come to the grand entryway, for a second. The minute he walked in, he saw it.

On the wall, was a huge painting of George and Trinity on their wedding day, with the boys and Nica. He also saw Jase, Aunt Janice, Uncle Fred, Jet, Bain and his family, Ek, and other family members and friends in the background. In abstract, but clearly recognizable were Hortense, Tasha and Robert looking on.

George choked up and his voice faltered, “I am grateful that you honoured Hortense like that. The boys would be as well. I am happy to see Robert. I am glad that you did that.”

“I asked Alex if he had any photographs of her. He and I picked out a few, copied them and gave them to the painter with some of Tasha and Robert.”

“And, Tasha, we can never forget her.”

He thought it was wonderful. He spent a long time pouring over it and identifying everyone. Each space had something interesting that was meaningful. He took in all of the details. He was very pleased.

“When I told Jet what I wanted to do, he recommended the painter. He told me that he first saw his work when he and Tasha were in Milan and they became friends. I called him up and he sent me some photographs of his work. I flew him over the day before our wedding so that he could set up.”

She added, “You probably thought he was just another photographer. He wanted to take the photographs himself to study. He didn’t want anyone else’s photos, well, except for Hortense, Robert and Tasha. We thought of the size and concept together. He sent me rough sketches to approve and then he started painting. It took two months.”

“How did you keep this secret? The workmanship is exquisite.”

“I had to set up an email account so that he could send me a video of what was going on, without you finding out. Sorry, but you can see the emails and videos, now, if you want to. Funnily enough, it was finished for last touches just when I was abducted. He called Jet. Jet knew how important it was to me so he went to Milan for last looks and approved it. That was when I was in the hospital. He flew it back and had Mrs. James hide it in her cottage. Then, Mr. Kemp organized it being hung the morning of the staff lunch, while we were at Dr. Tanower’s office. The hard part was keeping you out of this area until this morning.”

“Jet never said anything. I’m going to kill him.”

George was very pleased and astounded at the amount of work and secrecy that went into this gift to him.

“Look, he has captured every face and body mannerism exactly as they are. This is wonderful.”

“Come.” she said, holding his arm, “We have the rest of our lives to look at it, but the food is cooking and I don’t want to eat burnt food on Christmas Day.”

“Thank you.” he said still looking at it. “Thank you.”

George made sure that everything was finished. The goose and capons were taken out of the oven to rest and the pudding was slowly simmering in its Bain Marie on the stove. Trinity chose their festive dinner service then set and decorated the table.

“OK, are we done?”

“I think so.”

“Alright, follow me.”

George held Trinity’s hand as they walked down to a grove of trees in the distance, in the area of the stables. It took them maybe three minutes to reach it. Behind the trees, it looked like a really nice, small, bungalow style shed that was fenced in.

Finally, when they reached the building, George said, “Merry Christmas!”

She looked at it really well for about ten seconds. George worried that her reaction wasn’t what he had hoped for. She walked around to the side of it. Then she squealed when she recognized what it was. She put her hands to her cheeks in disbelief. Everything that a chicken coop needed was there; feeders, hatch boxes, water baths and grit boxes. She couldn’t believe it. It was beautiful and when George told her to open the door of the hatchery and all the chickens came out, she started jumping up and down.

“Oh, thank you. Thank you!”

Trinity started to cry. George held onto her as she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.

He said, “I’m sorry. I don’t know an Appenzeller Spitzhauben from a Transylvanian Naked Neck so I had to have someone else recommend what breed to get. The breeder came with them yesterday. You almost caught her. I told her that you raised them on the Island, but there are some things you need to know about raising these breeds in this climate. There is an automatic door closure that is in tune with the sun setting and rising, so they will be ok until she comes back.”

“Thank you. How did you get this here without me seeing?”

“It was built at the lumber yard then brought here yesterday afternoon, while we were at the pub. One of the gentlemen who sent you a drink was following their progress by his cell phone and he gave me the all clear when they were done and I could bring you home.”

She couldn’t stop looking at the coop.

“OK. We are late and I am famished. It is time to eat.”

Trinity kissed him as they walked back to the house, arm in arm.

“George, we missed the Queen’s Speech.”

“That’s OK. I recorded it.”

There was one last thing that she would find, later. In their most favourite place in the house, besides their bedroom, near to the fireplace in the landing of their bedroom suite, George placed a basket of subscriptions at Trinity’s chair. They were of every magazine, or book, of everything to do with chickens that he could find, all tied with green and red ribbons.

Junkanoo

After the big Christmas Day dinner that Janice held for her guests, Ger asked impatiently, “When are we going? Isn’t it time yet?”

“No, Ger. Not until about one. You guys had better take a nap because you will be up all night.” Nica told him.

“We are not babies. We can stay up all night.” said Alex.

The day was too exciting for the boys. It was going to be the biggest night of their experience on the Island. Everyone seemed to be in Junkanoo fever. They had looked forward to this since they arrived and their zeal increased with each video of past parades that they watched.

They learned that Junkanoo first started in the 16th Century as a celebration of slaves who were given a special holiday at Christmas time, when they could leave the plantations to be with their family. This was the only time that they were permitted to celebrate, openly, with African dance, music and costumes.

Now, Junkanooers ‘rush out’ on Bay Street, in groups, in the early hours of the morning, wearing magnificent costumes covered by crepe paper, sparkling stones, fluffy feathers, dazzling beads, glitter and other embellishment.

Each group’s committee members decide the concept or theme of their costumes months before and a group will parade two themes; one for the Boxing Day parade and one for the New Year’s Eve parade. A group consists of those carrying the very large costumes, as well as, the choreographed dancers and the musicians who beat drums, blow horns or ring cowbells.

The costumes are made under ‘security’ from other groups. The place where they are constructed is referred to as a ‘shack’, so persons who construct the costumes are called ‘shack rats’. Construction of the costumes can start as early as the summer before the parade. Some people who construct costumes take leave from work from November, even earlier sometimes, to devote their time exclusively to Junkanoo. They are not to be bothered and will not stop construction for wife, husband, girlfriend, boyfriend or child, unless it is a case of an emergency. It is said that the love the shack rat has for Junkanoo is a ‘fever’.

“Anyway guys, we’re going to lie down for a while. Take our advice.”

At one am the house was quiet. Jason came down the stairs to the kitchen followed by Nica.

He shouted, “Let’s roll.”

At that the boys came down the stairs like gang busters and hurried to the car.

“Don’t forget your cameras. Bring a sweater or jacket because it will get cold.” Nica told them.

“It’s impossible to get cold here, if the weather since we got here is anything to go by and it is supposed to be winter.” said Alex.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Smart Alec.”

Once on the road, the closer they got to Bay Street, the worse the traffic became. But, as they neared, the sound was unmistakable.

“Do you hear that boys? Do you hear the drums?” asked Nica.

Jason beat out the time for them.

“Do you hear the horns?” he asked.

Nica held her fists to her lips and blew the melody out for them.

“Do you hear the cowbells?

Jason gave them some kaliks with his imaginary cow bells.

The boys were silent. They were enraptured. They were looking around at everything; a man in costume carrying his cowbells slung over his shoulder, men on top of a truck trying to maneuver a costume off of the flatbed, some pretty girls in identical dresses putting on their makeup.

“The girls here are well fit.” Alex said to Lewellyn.

They saw a fire and men kneeled around it with their drums. Almost immediately, they could smell the wood and paper burning.

“Those are drums made from goat skins. There is no other sound close to it in the world. The fire heats up the skin and they tune them by either tightening the skin or loosening it up.” Jase told them.

People were walking happily and quickly to get to their seats. Guys and girls were holding hands. Parents were walking with their children and Police Officers were watching keenly, keeping the peace.

“Guys, the minute you get out of the car, you are going to get hit big.”

“By what?”

“The vibrations from the drum. And, when you are on the bleachers, you will feel them vibrate to the sound of the beat, and it never stops so get used to it.”

“I can feel the drums vibrating in my chest, already.” said Ger.

“It’s like a second heart beat.” said Alex.

Jase laughed and said aside to Nica, “Wait until they get closer.”

When they turned the corner, it was like a visual and sonic boom hit them. They saw glorious colours; red, yellow, blue, purple, green, turquoise, pink, and every shade in between. It seemed as if they were seeing these colours for the first time in their lives.

Some of the costumes were so tall and wide that they had to be supported by more than one person. They, along with the dancers, who carried the smaller costumes, moved in time to the music. The movement of their waists caused the lower part of the costumes to swing from side to side, rhythmically. All together, they were hypnotic. They were all beautiful creations in the most intricate designs of great skill; each detail becoming more distinct as they moved.

The most amazing thing was the movement as one. Each group had its own choreography, but, as a whole, the Junkanoo pulsed in tempo. Not only did they feel the drumbeats in their chests, they also felt the vibrations from the drums come through the ground into the bleachers, electrifying them. Without any effort on their part, they danced to the music. They were part of one cultural life force. It was one marvelous experience after the other. Each sight was a wonder to behold, each sound, an experience out of this world.

“How do they know who wins?”

“Do you see the men and women walking in between, they are the judges.”

Jase and Nica heard very little from the boys that morning. They were wide eyed, hypnotized.

They left just after the sun came up, before the judging was concluded. Jase looked in the rear view mirror. He hadn’t even gotten two miles out from Bay Street and, already in back, the boys were like soft toy bunnies flopped over their seats and each other. They had the blankets that Nica put in the car pulled up under their chins. They were ‘mash up’.

Nica looked back at them, too, and said to Jase, “What lightweights!”

When they pulled up to the house, Nica and Jase had to drag them out of the car and push them along to go inside. The boys wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. They headed for their beds.

“Oh No!” said Jase, “that is not what we do. Take showers and be downstairs in fifteen minutes for breakfast or I’ll send Nica after you. After breakfast, you can sleep all day if you want to, but Aunt Janice made breakfast and she is waiting.”

“We’re tired.”

“Then you should have taken a nap! Move it!” Nica told them.

The Investiture

On January 31st, Uncle Fred and Aunt Janice came to London and were met by Trinity, George, Alex and Ger at Claridges.

Aunt Janice told Trinity, “Since you can’t take them, Fred and I are going to the bank to take back the pieces that I wore at Christmas. I was going to send them back to you with Alex, but the look on his face was one of sheer horror. It was priceless.”

“I would be scared, too.” Trinity laughed.

“I might pick out something else to take back with me. Do you think that I can get away with wearing a tiara?” she asked jokingly.

“No, it would be a bit much if it were standing high, but a flat bandeau might work. Or, wear the Ansbach, which would be great with a simple dress. Wear it with some bracelets.”

“That’s a thought. Nica was going to wear that on her wedding day before it was decided to change venue. Tasha would have loved to have seen her wear it.” said Aunt Janice.

“Or you.” Trinity said.

On February 9th, George and Trinity were driven to Buckingham Palace, arriving at 9:58 am. He stepped out of the car in Morning Dress of black tail coat, cashmere stripe wool trousers and a dove grey waistcoat. Trinity wore a grey silk suit with red roses and a grey coiled mesh flower and feather fascinator.

George was ushered to the waiting area with the other honourees then escorted into a succession of very large rooms with stunning artwork on display. He chatted to other honourees as they lined up to be received. They were told by the Queen’s staff to approach The Queen with a bow of the head and to wait for her to start the conversation. Once The Queen offered her hand to shake, indicating the end of the conversation, he had to then bow his head again and step back two or three paces then leave to go back to the waiting area.

Trinity, Alex and Gerald were ushered to the Ballroom where they were seated. The Ceremony started punctually at 11:00 am. Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II entered the room attended by two Gurkha orderly officers, resplendent in red. They found out, that the other uniformed guards on duty were members of The Queen's Body Guard of the Yeomen of the Guard in their iconic uniforms of red, black, gold and white.

In the audience, Trinity noticed how lovely The Queen looked in a very light blue dress. Alex and Ger sat looking all around, enthralled at the grandeur of it all.

A military band played the National Anthem and every one rose to sing. A man later found out to be The Lord Chamberlain, announced George and said that he was being honoured for service to Banking and Economics.

George kneeled on his right knee, on the crimson Investiture knighting stool, before The Queen and bowed his head. Her Majesty used a sword that belonged to her father, King George VI, to knight him with a tap of its blade on his right shoulder then one on the left. She then placed the Insignia medal, hanging from a ribbon, around his neck and congratulated him. Trinity thought that she looked quite interested in their conversation then she shook his hand.

The ceremony lasted for about an hour. Afterwards, they went outside to take pictures. Naturally, the press wished to question George and Trinity, but they declined. They were driven back to Claridges on Brook Street in Central London where Jeffrey, Poppy, Nica, Jase, Aunt Janice, Uncle Fred and Captain Bain waited for them to all have lunch together afterwards and hear all of the news. They were congratulated heartily not only by his family, but, also by staff and other guests. Jet’s presence was a surprise.

When George saw him, he asked, happy to see him, “When did you come?”

“I just got in this morning. I’m glad for you, brother.”

“Thank you. I’m very glad that you made it. I understand that you had your hand involved in a little intrigue with my wife.”

“Well, you know, you help out where you can.” Jet said with a smirk.

“Thank you, and by the way, that portrait is out of this world.”

“That’s an understatement.” replied Jet.

“What did The Queen say, George?” asked Aunt Janice.

“It is poor form to discuss what The Queen tells you, but Janice, just for you, I will tell you that she said on behalf of the nation, she thanked me for my service for the benefit of all. She said that she saw the news about Trinity and she was glad that she was returned to me and my family, safely. Then she said that she was sure that no honour would be as important as that, to me.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her that that was absolutely true. But, I was still very happy to receive it.”

They all laughed. Trinity poked his arm.

Uncle Fred said, “C'est ça.”

“Then what did she say?” asked Aunt Janice, overly inquisitive.

“She said to give her best wishes to my family.”

“Isn’t that nice?” asked the new Royalist, Aunt Janice.

“Alright, everyone. Let’s eat.” said George with a kiss to Trinity’s cheek.

After they were seated and glasses were full of wine, Trinity said, “George, there is one more surprise.”

“Really?”

“Do you remember how much packing I was doing?”

“Yes. You told me you needed options.”

“Well, that was not just for me.”

“Oh?” he said, confused.

“Everything has been arranged. You and I are going on our honeymoon!”

“Are you serious? How can that be? That’s fantastic.”

“Thank Jet. He won’t tell me where we are going, so he made the hotel and car arrangements at each stop and he is lending us one of his planes. He will fly the Aurora back to the Island and his Captains will fly us, where…ever…we’re going. I don’t know.”

“Jet, do you mean like before?”

“Yes, like before.”

“With the addition?”

“Yes, with the addition.”

“You are one badass brother. Thank you. She is going to love it.”

“Yes. And, you know I love any opportunity to fly my baby.”

“Yeah, I will hang out in the passenger section, like a guest for a change.” chimed in Captain Bain.

Uncle Fred said, raising his glass, “Today is a wonderful day for all of us who love George. Congratulations, Sir George and Trinity, Lady Ponsby!”

Everyone at the table raised their glass and said, “Congratulations.”

“I have one more announcement to make.”

They all looked at him.

He took Janice’s hand in his, “I have asked this wonderful woman for her hand in marriage and she said YES!”

One by one, they got up to kiss Aunt Janice and hug Uncle Fred.”

Once everyone sat back in their chairs, George kissed Trinity and said, “I love you”.

Trinity said, “I love you, too.”

Alex shouted, excitedly, as he danced the Limbo under an imaginary pole, “Ger, did you hear that? WE ARE GOING BACK TO THE ISLAND!”