VISUAL EFFECTS / CH. 4: HILL-WALKING

SATURDAY MAY 14TH, 2270

It didn't take long to leave the village behind them, and Alice could see there was no one around for miles. “A beautiful place.”

“Thanks. It's nice to be in home territory again,” Sue said.

“You lived here?”

“The next village; where lunch will be. Simon didn't say?”

“I guess I didn't ask.”

A few steps further on, Sue asked, “You really suggested that confession would be a way into dating?”

“No. I asked Simon what might go wrong if I confessed all to him. He came back with the text-book answer. The thing is...”

“Yes?”

“I'm broken. Simon's seen it. I don't know if I'm ever going to be whole again, but I'm pretty sure the way towards healing involves talking about the past.”

“It probably does.”

“The past is painful and dredging it up is pretty painful. But from what Simon's said, we're going to spend quite a lot of time together, and I think he'll need to know. Did he tell you his message from God for me?”

“He said he'd been given one, that you believed in God when you were young and still did.”

“Yes. God also told him that I need his help and protection, and told him to tell me that I'm on the right track, but if I go alone then I'm not going to survive. Plus there was more personal stuff, like I'm not cursed.”

“Who said you were?”

“A trusted Sunday school teacher. She believed it too. And then I got home to an empty house and eventually found my parents had been killed. There should have been a police-woman waiting for me, but I went in the back way.”

“She said that because you could eavesdrop? Overhear thoughts and decisions?”

“You need touch, right?”

“You don't?”

“I don't. My crying earlier was from realising that it was a gift from God and I've been using it as a short-cut to doing my job properly. Who needs informants when you can just bug the guy's mind directly? I've been misusing it, and I think that God's been taking back bits of it that I used to have. Why shouldn't he, when I called the gift he'd given me a curse? When I listened to the Sunday school teacher's lies, called myself cursed and named the others demons?”

“The others?”

“It's been a long time... but I wasn't alone. I must have had this gift from when I was really young.” She shook her head in amazement. “Soon after I turned fifteen, someone told me I had a gift from God and taught me to use bits of it. I never thought of hearing thoughts as part of that. I don't think I can do the things she taught me now. At first, I rejected them as demonic, so avoided them like the plague. When I decided I didn't believe in God or demons, I couldn't do them any more, just hear thoughts of people whose name I knew. Now? I know I don't want to try, just for tryings sake.”

“Simon knows all this?”

“No. Not all of it. He just reminded me of God's forgiveness as I cried.”

“Why did you think the others were demons?”

“Well, voices in my head from around the world? What else would they be?”

“Other people with the same gift you have?” Sue asked.

“I guess so, now. But I'd only just met them when the Sunday School teacher convinced me otherwise.”

“Sorry, I'm really confused what this Sunday school teacher could have done.”

“She committed, or planned to commit, adultery. I'd heard her planning it when I was about ten, knowing it was something wrong but not really understanding. A week later, the wife of her paramour got a cramp while swimming and drowned, and he committed suicide soon after. She got cramps like that occasionally, and he'd always been there to help, but that day he hadn't been. When I was sixteen, I heard the Sunday school teacher pushing away the thought that on that day his wife drowned he'd feigned some excuse and had been with her. I confronted her, how could she be teaching about confessing our sins to one another, when she hadn't confessed her part in those deaths? But in her mind, that was a terrible dream, a recurring nightmare. Why was I repeating the devil's lies? Now, I realise she'd blotted out the truth, and exchanged it for a lie, but at the time I just saw her certainty that she'd been nowhere near him that week. I must be under the influence of demons, and I was a curse on anyone close to me. My parents died at about the time she said that.”

“Oh wow. So you believed her?”

“For a few years, yes. I felt like God had abandoned me, and I abandoned Him, until I recognised God in Simon's message.” Alice looked around, “Your husband really likes books, then? I don't see them.”

“Simon does too.”

“Yes, he told me. If it's got words he reads it. Unless it's philosophy.”

“So, we might need to wait for them. There's a good spot a bit higher up.”

“You're a good listener, Sue.”

“I ought to be. It's part of my job. Debriefing missionaries when they come home, some of them have been through traumatic things.”

“Oh. I wondered what your role might be.”

“We're a pretty small office. I'm personnel, ethics advice and press relations.”

“Which one are you being now?”

“Simon's big sister.”

“He's a kind and brave man, bringing me that message.”

“And you were joking about confessing all to him?”

“You're a good listener, but I'm pretty good at avoiding certain subjects, with you and with him both. Like the bit of my life between being accused of demon possession and Simon walking into my life with a message from God.”

“I'd noticed.”

“I think I'm going to tell Simon all of it one day.”

“Because you think it might hurt your relationship if you don't?”

“Because I've got quite a lot of emotional baggage, and I don't trust easily.”

“You're being pretty trusting of me.”

“I know. Maybe it's because Simon is planning on saving my life. I don't know where or how, the message didn't say. It didn't even say it had to be Simon who went with me, to this dangerous place I'm apparently on my way to. But the message did tell Simon I needed his protection. I don't feel I deserve it, but I'm expecting I am going to accept it, when the time comes. I was certainly pretty impressed by his spotting the I.D. reader.”

“What I.D. reader?”

“Last night. He almost got some fraudulent bank transactions, I expect. But he spotted the I.D. reader wasn't trustworthy, and actually had enough cash to pay for both our meals. The waiter was really miffed. That's a really useful gift there.”

“So's yours.”

“Mine is scary.”

“How so?”

“If God ever sees fit to give it back to me in full measure, I'll be able to find people by name or category, know who's in a room the other side of the world, and what they're thinking. And if someone is near me then I'll be able to plunge myself into their thoughts and know exactly what lies behind the idea that motivates the thought that gave birth to the dream that caused them to react in that way, to trace ideas from synapse to synapse, and if I do it long enough, cook my brain in the process. There's more too, but I was never taught it. And then I rejected the whole lot as from the devil, then I rejected God along with the rest of it.”

“But you've repented of those, obviously.”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask?... This is one of my standard questions, feel free to refuse to answer. How deep into sin and rebellion did you plunge?”

“You mean deeper than ascribing the work of the Spirit to forces of evil?”

“To me, it sounds like that wasn't so much your idea, you accepted it, yes, but you wouldn't have come up with it, would you?”

“No. I wouldn't have. Misusing my gift is something I did do though.”

“Yes. You've mentioned that. Again, it doesn't sound like it was something you knew to be serious sin, so that counts in your favour, at least in my book.”

“You're asking if I fell into vices aren't you?”

“Actually, I'm wondering if anything you did has left scars on your body or spirit, that might come back and be used against you. Most vices fall in that category, yes, but some are more damaging to relationships, others are more damaging to your mind, or body. After that, the follow-on question turns back to what was done to you.”

Just as Alice was about to answer, she heard a voice she hadn't heard for years

[I know you told me to get lost and never bother you again, Alice, but I'm a grumpy old woman who never listens, and God has finally let me talk to you. I'm not a demon, just a cranky old woman.]

[And I'm not cursed.]

[Whoever told you that you were, girl?]

[Same utterly convincing Sunday school teacher who told me you and the others were demons, and that I was going to bring a curse on anyone close to me if I didn't stop listening to you, about an hour before I found out my parents were dead.]

[I should have tried earlier, shouldn't I? Well, actually, I did try, but God's been hiding you from us, maybe because you've not been yourself. Nice to have you back at long last, Alice.]

[I only admitted God was real yesterday morning. I've been misusing the gift.]

[I thought you probably had been, from watching the news.]

[I think God's taken it from me, mostly. The things you taught me... stopped working years ago. I can still hear thoughts of people by name, but that's it.]

[You need to do a lot of praying then. And healing.]

[I know. Simon tells me my soul looks like this {image}.]

[Interesting gift your Simon's got. Must be rare; I've never heard anyone thinking about it 'till now, anyway! Well, God's mercies are new every morning! But girl, you clearly need to seek the peace.]

[I remember you talking about it, but I never found it.]

[I've got things to take care of here, like saying bye to my family. But I'll tell you this, if you have enough of the gift, you can focus on God's peace just like you focus on reading the whole of a person. It's a place of healing, of safety. You don't get hot there, you cool down. And the people around you will think you're in a coma, but we can't have everything, can we? If you can't get there, then pray, trust and obey. Maybe God wants you to learn love, joy, patience, goodness, kindness and self-control before you get to peace. It's just a feeling, but I think you're going to stay incommunicado for a bit more. God might want you to heal fully before you do. But it's time I woke up, I think.]

[You've been asleep?] Alice asked.

[Resting, girl. The kids were being a pain, so I told them I'd like a rest, and like I do every half a year or so I decided to check on you, if I could. Get well, Alice, and then go give those corrupt astronauts something to worry about.]

[Astronauts?] Alice asked, surprised. There was no reply. Mama had left her alone, and by the sound of it, that was going to be the last time they'd speak for a while.

“That was one of the people who trained you?” Sue asked.

“That was Mama, who taught me most of what I knew, in the two or three days before my life fell apart. Did you hear all of it?”

“No, just her first shout.”

“She's not been able to get through to me, and wasn't sure she'll be able to again. I wish we could have talked more, but she said she had to say goodbye to her family.”

“Not as in dying, I hope!” Sue said.

“I don't think so. She said she'd been pretending to rest because the little ones got noisy. She also said she's never heard of a gift like Simon's. And she reminded me about a place of healing I ought to have found before I left for the meeting where I confronted my Sunday school teacher, but chatting to some friends took priority. If only...” Alice looked across the beautiful landscape. As she got higher, it was becoming familiar, somehow, like she'd seen it before, and could almost remember what was around the corner. A village, or a lake? She dismissed the thought as silly; she'd never been here before, unless it was as a young child. Maybe she'd seen it on a nature program?

“So you're going to go there soon? It's some kind of pilgrimage?” Sue asked.

“Oh, it's a... mental or spiritual place. But I don't think I can go there.”

“Why not?”

“More talking to do. It's called Peace. But I don't think I'm ready for it yet. She suggested I should find love, joy, patience and the rest first. That really rang true.”

“Finding love? That sounds like a long term goal.”

“Really? I thought I'd already experienced quite a lot from Simon and you. Thank you. I think patience is the hardest one. I'm not good at patience. I need to tell you about my scars, though.”

“Don't feel you have to.”

“Oh, but I do. But not because of you pressuring me.”

“You mean the time has come to expose them to light?”

“I guess so. So... where to start? I guess the beginning has something to say for it.”

“Tradition, if nothing else,” Sue agreed, smiling.

Alice told of how she had gone home, in tears and confusion. Mrs Huntsman had made her accusation, and Alice wanted to talk to her parents. They weren't there, and eventually a policewoman who'd been waiting outside had heard noises inside the house and knocked. Alice had instinctively probed the mind of the woman as soon as she opened the door, and seen uppermost in her mind was her annoyance that she'd been standing outside so long for no purpose. She'd also seen the message. Her parents were both dead. Alice had slammed the door in the policewoman's face and run up to her room, mentally screaming at Mama and the others to get out of her life and stay away from her. Why had they destroyed her family? She cast them out as though they were demons, and buried her head in her pillow.

Eventually, the police woman had gained entry to the house, and found the distraught teenager in her room. She'd patiently explained that there had been an explosion, and her parents had died. Alice was to go to her grandparents. Her grandparents weren't Christians and didn't think there was any point in Alice talking to a pastor, or going to church. Anyway, they were busy on Sundays. Alice moped, and suffered, and became more and more depressed. She doubted God's love, and there was no one to reassure her of it. Soon after Alice's seventeenth birthday, Alice's grandmother died of a heart attack and her grandfather blamed her. Alice was further convinced that she was bringing a curse on anyone close. It felt like her prayers weren't being answered, and eventually she stopped praying. Then her grandfather, not wanting to live without his wife, and not caring about Alice enough to stay around for her sake, drank a bottle of whisky and went to sleep in an almost overflowing bath. Since there was no suicide note, the coroner declared that it could have been accidental death, but it might have been suicide. The insurance company decided that that meant they needn't pay any life insurance, and Alice found herself with a legal battle on her hands. The next week the same insurance company decided they could refuse to pay out for her parent's deaths, claiming the explosion that had killed her parents counted as an act of war, and so wasn't covered. Her grandparents had had debts, and her parent's house had an outstanding mortgage. Alice was advised that if she lost both insurance pay-outs then she'd be homeless, if she won both, she'd have her university fees paid and keep both houses. The advisor was dishonest, however, and drew up a contract that awarded himself such huge hourly fees that it made that advice nonsense. Both cases were settled in her favour, but Alice only started university with her parent's house, and enough money to pay the first year's tuition. The rest had gone to the lawyer. The other thing Alice had was a massive desire to see dishonesty and corruption exposed. She joined the student paper, and it found itself turned from writing funny pieces about student life and interviewing visiting lecturers about their love lives (mostly consisting of a series of 'no comment' replies to the intrusive questions), to winning prizes for journalism.

Sometime in her first year, another student had mostly convinced Alice that all Christians were hypocrites. Since Alice wasn't one of those, she ought to stop calling herself a Christian. It had been two years since she'd prayed, let alone attend Church regularly, and she agreed; she didn't want to claim to be what she wasn't.

Her adventures into the area of romance had been disasters. It didn't help that she could see through the boy's flattery, but she didn't seem to have any success in picking potential partners who were remotely normal. Her friends had boyfriends who supplied them with flowers, kisses and nice meals. Alice's first date at university had come to the date with his pet tarantula in a shoebox. That would have been interesting if he had told her about it rather than challenging her to take a look; but apparently he really liked seeing women scream. Her second, at their first meal together, asked her if she'd mind posing nude for his art project, which she'd already learned was supposed to be posted all over the campus. Her third, on their second date, had admitted that his new tie had been a gift from his regular girl-friend, who he was still seeing.

In search of boys who might have more traditional attitudes to relationship-forming, she gate-crashed a Christian Union party. At first, she felt like she was being the worst sort of hypocrite, but found that a significant portion of the males there had one thing on their mind, and it wasn't the pizza. She realised that she wasn't alone in looking for company here, but some of them seemed to be card-carrying members of the C.U. even though their minds were filled with filth. She left in disgust, and found herself being followed by one of the males there. He'd been trying to give her orange juice laced with vodka earlier in the evening. Yes, she acknowledged, there was plenty of tradition behind getting a girl drunk as a prelude to seduction, but it surely had no place in civilised society, let alone a supposedly Christian one. Her reactions saved her from his attempt to wrestle her to the ground, and fortunately he'd been drinking enough of his vodka that it was easy for her to get his picture for the campus police as she fled. Christians being dangerous hypocrites became even more strongly linked in her mind; it didn't matter that he'd gate-crashed the party too.

After those experiences, Alice had given up on the idea of seeking the company of the male of the species, at least amongst the student population, and she poured herself into her work. Her studies went well and she ended up with high honours and walked into her present job straight after graduating. She found that male journalists weren't quite as uncivilised as students, but not by much. Particularly around her. Like during her student days, there seemed to be something that made anyone she liked turn out to be... cursed, the term kept coming back to her. She'd been working five years now, she'd been on four dates, none had gone beyond that first stage. The last one had left her with physical and emotional scars. Alice added “A colleague teased me about it after my last disaster: 'Alice, please tell me who you're remotely interested in, I'll know to avoid them like the plague.'”

“Could you tell me about the one who left you with scars?” Sue asked.

“Well, it wasn't him exactly. He loved bungee jumping, 'It's a real thrill' said he. Guess what our date turned out to be? In my case, severe whiplash and a broken arm, when the rope got tangled around me.”

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“Ouch.”

“That's what I thought. He was all very apologetic and considerate, but dumped me when I told him I wasn't planning to go through that again.”

“He broke you and then dumped you?”

“Yes.”

“What a charming fellow.”

“He was, that's the problem. I always fall for the outwardly charming nut-cases whose deep psychological flaws are hidden by perfect mental control.”

“How good's Simon's mental control?”

“Not perfect. But it seems to rise to the challenge when pushed .... and I did rather stress test it.” Alice blushed, and looked around at the countryside. “Why do I recognise the shape of that valley?”

“You've been here before?”

“Not as far as I know. Has some film been made here, or something like that?”

“No. But let's wait here for the boys.”

“Good idea. I get the feeling that group up there are from Simon's church, and I don't want to meet them right now.”

“So... you don't like Christians?”

“I like you, and I like Simon.”

“But not in general.”

“Not in general, no. I've found they don't live up to my expectations.”

“I expect we don't live up to God's either. How did you test Simon?”

“It wasn't really a test. When I realised that reading people at a distance was part of my gift, and I've been using it like... I don't know, a way of bugging people's minds without being caught, that was pretty traumatic. I really needed a hug.”

“And you got one?” Sue was surprised.

“Yes. A very nice long reassuring one. He was very sweet and actively tried to think of verses to help me.”

“Did they?”

“Yes.”

“You threatened to unburden to him after that?”

“Yes.”

“No wonder you scared him. His instinct was probably to run away at top speed.”

"Has he ever had a girlfriend?”

“Not that I'm aware of. He's pretty shy.”

“He said something about his gift being a pain in the romance department, about asking a girl out and then discovering she's not so nice.”

“That's one of his excuses, yes. Since it happened when he was fifteen, I don't think it should really count for much.”

“When he was fifteen?”

“Yes.”

“And that's the last time he asked anyone out?”

“You'll have to ask him that.”

“I will.”

“Alice... in your account, you concentrated on disasters in romance, and skipped over a lot of stuff that was probably far more painful. Is there a reason for that?”

“Probably. You could say that God's been protecting me through those disasters, couldn't you?”

“I expect so, yes, but that analysis is up to you.”

“I could have easily ended up raped, abused, or with an abortion on my conscience. But here I am, all untouched and inexperienced, and finally glad of it.” She lifted her face to the sky and uttered a heart-felt prayer “Oh, thank-you God.”

“Amen.”

“Sue? My piece on your mission. How bad's the fall-out been?”

“Can we separate your piece from the leader who loved money more than God's work? Regular, specific giving where we're one partner among many have pretty much dried up, but part of that is because while our accounts were frozen, we told people they could give direct or via another partner. That affects us on paper, but not directly, since we were just channeling the money. What it does do is removes people from our donor's list, so we don't get to ask them if they want to help support other projects. About ten percent of new funding used to come in that way.”

“How long were the accounts frozen?”

“Three months.”

“That must have had an effect on all sorts of things.”

“Yes. Some people had to leave the organisation, or the countries they were working in, because their funds didn't come through and they needed to eat.”

“I'm sorry.”

“We've got better systems in place now, but better systems don't make good head-lines. The problem was, one of those external projects was entirely fictitious. Well, you know, you found it out, just a shell agency in the country with a bank account that fed back to him. And we were naïve. We passed audit for years, and thought everything was fine, until you dropped that bomb-shell on us.”

“It could have been a bigger one. The 'emergency funds' hadn't gone through.”

“You knew about that?”

“I couldn't find evidence, so I didn't publish. I was on a different story, when I interviewed him and heard him planning how he'd save up the emergency funds for his retirement. That's what led to my probe.”

“If your article had come out a week later, the organisation would have been in a far worse state.”

“Good job I didn't know that. I might have been tempted to delay it. I'd just had some bad experiences with Christians.”

“Want to elaborate?”

“Various people at work, saying I need to be careful not to damage the good name of the mission, look at all the good work you were doing, etc. etc.

I said, 'Great, but that leader needs to be behind bars.' And then the same unsolicited advice the next day and the next. After two weeks of that, it was beginning to /irk/, you know? And I got some surveys done. Do you ever give to mission agencies? Of those who did, how many people followed up on their donations? What was their money used for? Was it spent well? Were they prepared to name their religious belief? The survey didn't get a mention in the report, but there's never enough time to say everything, you know? Christians giving these days don't care where the money's gone. It was the same when I was at Sunday school. Put your money in the box and forget about it.”

“Are you sure about that? You don't think it's that they check out the organisation first and then give?”

“Not many. Sorry, based on my survey results, your typical member of the congregation would give to support producing chocolate bars with Bible verses on them, if you spoke fast enough. Especially if the pastor endorsed it. Never mind what language they're in, or whether the kids getting them bother to read it, or even can.”

“That's.... a pretty brutal assessment.”

“Sorry. Admittedly that's a bit out of date. Maybe things have changed.”

“Maybe not.” Each lost in their own thoughts, they watched the men labouring up the hill, a long way behind them for a minute or so. Then Sue asked “Would you mind if I talk to our public relations department about that chocolate scripture idea?”

“What!” Alice was stunned.

“I was thinking, we could take out an advert, 'Taste and see the Lord is good!' talking all about the scripture-chocolate, and then at the bottom of it say 'Alternatively you might like to support our more useful programmes that have had proper community input from start to finish with regular impact assessments by external auditors, and so we're now getting more than ninety-nine percent in the international transparency scale.'”

“Where say local governments get fifty or sixty. I like the idea, Sue. Go ahead. Actually how about... no, maybe not. I don't know. Your choice.”

“It's my choice if you mind me talking to our P.R. people? I'm confused.”

“Oh, do that, by all means. I was wondering about a follow up article, if you'll allow me to.”

“As in, what, exactly?”

“What went wrong in your systems, how you've fixed them, how the story's impacted your wider work, how people shouldn't turn their minds off, how maybe some other organisations could learn from you.”

“It's not my place to say that,” Sue said.

“I know, free press and all the rest,” Alice replied, misinterpreting Sue's statement. “I still want to talk about corruption and how to avoid it. But my attitude to God's changed, I don't want to cause you any more trouble.”

“Thank you, Alice. Its good to see that change, very very good. When you say other organisations... could you widen your scope, and include secular aid charities, not just mission agencies?”

“I was actually thinking about local government, but yes, that sounds a good idea. Some of the secular charity systems are really opaque.”

“Probably because some people in secular charities are quite well paid thank-you and others are volunteers, and the management don't want the volunteers to know. It'd be very interesting to repeat your survey with giving to non-Christian organisation too.”

“You mean... Non-Christians giving to a Christian organisation might be a lot more suspicious than if they were giving to a non-religious organisation?”

“Exactly. Have you ever put money into a collecting bucket at a school fête? Did you really have any idea the kid wasn't pocketing some of it? Any idea where the rest went?”

“OK, OK, I admit being guilty of double standards,” Alice said, looking at the hauntingly familiar landscape again.

Sue shrugged, “It's human. Too much suspicion probably isn't good for people, so you have a set of people you trust.”

“Yes. Speaking of which...” Alice began.

“Yes?”

“Can I trust you not to tell your brother something?”

“Depends what it is,” Sue replied, carefully.

“That's a good answer. It's this: Mama called him my Simon, and well.... I'm fully intending to get to know him better, and letting him get to know me better. And when we've done that for a suitable length of time and assuming we're still friends, I'm going to tell him what we've been doing is a sort of dating.”

Sue smiled “I think I can keep that sort of secret. You like him?”

“He's not the type of man I normally fall for, but yes. Around that corner you can see a house can't you?”

Sue looked at Alice in surprise. “Yes.”

“How do I know that?” Alice asked.

“No idea.”

“I can picture it. Two stories, rather tatty thatched roof and painted white. Am I right? I must have been here with my parents, but I don't remember it. There was something special about that house, the top left hand window in particular, but it's an old memory.”

“Top left hand window from this side?” Sue asked, making sure her thoughts were hidden.

“I think so. This is silly, I feel like I ought to try and draw you the floor plan of the house.”

“Feel free. Old memories sometimes work like that,” Sue said. “We've still got a few minutes before they get here.”

“All right.” Alice looked around and found a stick and a patch of bare soil. “I've no idea how I'd know the internal layout of a house I've never been in,” she added as she started to draw.

“You're sure you've never been in it?”

“Fairly.”

Alice drew the outline of the room, which would have been an L-shape, except it had a chimney going up the middle of one wall. She kept drawing and didn't notice Sue's expression. She started drawing the furniture in the almost-L room.

“Alice,” Sue said in a somewhat strangled voice “Do you want to discuss this before the men get here?”

“Should I?”

“Probably. No other memories about it?”

“No. You sound odd.”

“You've just drawn Simon's bedroom before my parents moved house, about nine years ago. The description you gave matches then, too. The new owners have re-done the roof and painted it another colour.”

“Oh. Oh wow.” Alice turned white. “Please, Sue, keep this a much bigger secret.” she scuffed out the drawing.

“Something wrong?”

“That depends. I think it might terrify Simon.” She shook her head “Well, I obviously wanted to know... once. How do you feel about knowing the future, Sue?”

“In the abstract or in practice?”

“Let me rephrase it. When I was young and naïve, I asked God a question about the future. The answer was in Simon's bedroom. I now remember all the details including time of day I asked if you want to know. Alternatively you can continue in ignorant bliss.”

“You... asked who you get your first proper kiss from? Or who you'd marry? Something like that?”

“Do you want the answer to that?”

“Maybe not.”

“Sensible woman. What a history I've got of misusing my gift! I think I'll try finding that place of peace. Oh, just so you know, apparently I'll look like I'm in a coma if I find it.”

“Do you think that the side of a mountain is a good place to enter a coma?”

“Absolutely,” Alice said, with a grin. “It's a good way of not facing Simon with what I've just found out.”

“Is it bad news, Alice?” Sue asked, concerned.

“No. It's not bad. I'm quite looking forward to it, actually, which is why I want to spend some time calming down.”

“You seem pretty calm to me.”

“Want to listen to my thoughts?” Alice offered a hand.

“Maybe I shouldn't.” Sue decided.

“Exactly.”

“So, how do we wake you up?”

“I'll let Simon work on that one, he's good at problem solving,” Alice said with a mischievous grin, settling down in the long grass, a little way off the path. Focus on God's peace, Mama had said, just like you focus on a person. Only she hadn't focussed her gift on a person for about a decade. She remembered relaxing being part of it. Could she do that? She wanted to be patient, and not share her joy so quickly with Simon that she scared him away. It'd take self control. For that, she felt she needed peace. Simon had quoted Psalm 23 to her, and that seemed appropriate. She thought her way through it, and the still waters it spoke of. Please, God? Could she be returned this part of her gift from him, that she'd abused so much? She didn't deserve it, not any part of it. She mentally flung herself on God's mercy and grace, knowing that there was no other medicine for her spiritual ailment.

----------------------------------------

“Sorry,” Mick said, kissing his wife. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Good book selection?” she asked.

“Very,” Simon agreed. “Where's Alice?”

“Having a rest and a think.” Sue waved in the general direction.

“She's OK?”

“I think so. I really don't know how much she wants me to keep to myself. But we've come up with an interesting idea, Mick.”

“Oh, what's that?” Mick panted.

“Scripture-chocolate. Taste and see the Lord is Good!” Sue said, enthusiastically, while he looked at her as though she'd gone mad. “Imagine the desire among the children for portions of scripture if they're printed on bars of chocolate!” switching out of saleswoman-mode, she said “Alternatively you could donate to our well-researched programmes and know your giving is making a difference to the church's outreach. It's a way of getting across to people why audits, community involvement and the like are important.”

“Oh, I get it. I can see P.R. having fun with that, yes.”

“You don't think you'll be inundated with requests for some?” Simon asked.

“We could send out instructions for how to do it,” Mick replied.

“Cynics. Though you're not quite as cynical as Alice was when she came up with the idea. Her thing about Christians not caring where their money went was based on a survey she had carried out, apparently. It wasn't a totally unfounded attack. She's thinking of doing a follow-up piece, showing how we've responded, the audits and so on, and pointing out that we're far more transparent than say, secular aid agencies.”

“Everyone is more transparent than them,” Mick said.

“Alice isn't sure about local governments,” Sue replied. “Or businesses, of course. She also admits that her survey might have given biased results, and agrees that it'd be good to look at how curious people are about giving to secular charities.”

“That'd be interesting, certainly,” Simon agreed, sinking to the ground. “So mostly you talked about that side of things?”

“No, I'd say mostly she talked about her past.”

“First impressions?” Mick asked.

“Well aware of where she's hurting, where she's got issues, and is facing the truth of it. I'd say she's not really been that damaged by the experience. Oh, there was lots of painful stuff she skipped over fairly briefly, and some other stuff that was painful at the time that she's now thankful for as it kept her from bad mistakes.” She glanced at Simon. “But long term... I don't think you're getting involved in an emotional wreck, Simon. It may be a bit of a roller-coaster, but I don't think she's going to melt down or explode.”

“'Getting involved?'” Simon asked.

“Well, you're planning on going with her to wherever she needs your protection, aren't you? That sounds pretty involved.”

“Sorry, it sounded like... I don't know, relationships.”

“Little brother, friendship is a type of relationship, isn't it?” Sue asked gently.

“Yes.” he admitted reluctantly.

“So of course it's about relationships. What sort of relationship you end up with is up to the two of you. And God, of course.”

“Oh. OK.” Simon decided he could maybe accept that. “She's also told me that while she doesn't think she deserves your protection, she fully plans to accept your offer. And she thinks you keeping her alive probably means you'll need to get to know her pretty well, including her emotional baggage. So that's a pretty good level of friendship you're aiming for.”

“OK, I can accept that.”

“Good, because I think if you reject her friendship you're going to throw her trust in her face and do a lot of damage.”

After they'd had a drink, and about ten minutes to catch their breaths, Simon asked “Sue, where did you say Alice was?”

“Lying in the grass over there, meditating on scripture. Come on, brother, I'll take you.” She led the way, and whispered “She's trying to use part of her gift that ought to help her heal. Apparently if she's succeeded she'll appear to be in a coma.”

“So how do we wake her up?”

“She said she'd let you solve that problem.”

“That's not funny.”

“I think she thought it was,” Sue said, and went back to talk to Mick.

“Alice?” Simon whispered. There was no response. He looked at her, peaceful, unmoving, unresponsive. He tried tickling her nose with a blade of grass. No response at all.

Carefully he took a quick glimpse at her with his othersight. Her brightness was muted, but he could see she was healing. The wounds had lost their rawness, in some, the pain seemed to have been replaced by... joy? How did that work? He gazed at her face, finding that beautiful too. If only he knew her better, he decided, it would be quite easy to fall in love with her, this sleeping beauty he had to wake up. He pushed that thought away. It was like a coma, but presumably not genuinely one, he thought. Hmm, he'd heard of patients reportedly hearing what was happening. “Alice, it's time to go.” he tried again.

“Simon, Alice?” Sue called, “We'll go on a bit ahead, OK?”

“OK.” Simon yelled back. Alice didn't stir. If sound wasn't going to work, might thought? He gingerly touched her hand. [Alice?]

Her fingers closed around his and she thought [Patience, Simon.]

He'd felt a great sense of peace and reassurance from her, and then she... withdrew, and he heard and felt nothing. Feeling awkward about holding her unresponsive hand, he broke contact and waited five more excruciating minutes, longing for that peace and reassurance again. Then he touched her again, [The others left five minutes ago, Alice.]

[Well you'd better wake your sleeping beauty then hadn't you?]

[You're awake.]

[Bother, he noticed. I was never actually asleep, just... disconnected.]

[Does you calling yourself sleeping beauty mean you heard me?]

[Decide you could fall in love with me if you knew me better?]

[Yes. Sorry.]

[Sorry for letting out the secret, or sorry for thinking flattering things about me?]

[Sorry for.... going past borders we'd set.]

[And there I was wondering if I was going to get a kiss to bring me back to the mundane world. Isn't that how you're supposed to wake up sleeping beauty?]

“Alice!” he broke contact.

“Sorry. I guess that was going a long way past borders we'd set, wasn't it?”

“Yes.”

“So, Simon, are you going to help me up, or shall I stay lying here on the grass all morning out of protest?”

“Protest at what?” he asked, offering his hand.

“Your lack of chivalry, of course!” She said, hardly putting any weight on his hand as she got up.

“Are you OK, Alice?” he asked as they started walking.

“Very, why do you ask?”

“You seem very... I don't know. Relaxed, happy, maybe a bit drunk.”

“I don't advise you to look at me right now, Simon. God is very very good, and very very patient, very very loving, and has just made himself very very present.”

“God spoke to you?”

“Yes.”

“Anything you can share?”

“Yes. But first I'd like to sing. 'When I in awesome wonder' seems appropriate. Do you know it?”

“Urm, yes. I'm not sure of all the words though.”

“That's why we've got these wonders of modern technology on our wrists. And then... what's that one with 'my chains fell off, my heart was free?'”

“And can it be.”

“That one too. God is good.”

“I know.”

“Ah, but do you know how good?”

“I checked on you... I hope you don't mind. I saw some of your pain has gone, turned to... I think it looked a bit like joy, but that doesn't make sense.”

“Yes it does. When I was far from God, I felt wounded that everyone I ever went out with turned out to be a complete disaster on the first date. A few days ago, I'd probably say I was pretty embarrassed at being a twenty-six year old virgin, even this morning I was feeling wounded not being able to form a quote 'proper relationship'. Now, I'm incredibly joyful that God didn't ever let me find a quote 'normal boyfriend'.

Healed relationship gives me a different perspective on things, turns my tears of sadness into rivers of joy. Is that another song?”

“Maybe,” Simon said embarrassed at the openness of what she'd just explained.

“You did ask.” Alice pointed out, noticing his blush.

“I know, but...”

“Simon, you want to get to know me better, yes?”

“Yes, but....”

“Good. I want to get to know you too. Part of that, somewhere along the line, involves discussing past romantic involvements, or lack thereof. I decided that I'd take the perfect opportunity your question presented, rather than pussy-footing around the subject, with much embarrassment, later on. Sorry if my answer embarrasses you.”

“Maybe we should sing.”

“Yes. And then we should catch up with your sister and her husband, and maybe even with your church group. I mean, I'm going to meet them tomorrow, aren't I?”

“You are? Oh! You're coming to Church?”

“I certainly hope you're inviting me.”

“Of course.”

“Good. I've found the words.”

----------------------------------------

“Someone's in fine voice this morning,” Mick said, looking behind him.

“It sounds rather like Simon, but that would make the descant Alice.” Sue said, puzzled.

“Is that so impossible?”

“She's been a long way from God since she was about sixteen. But I get the impression she's not leaving his side again, so maybe not.”

“What's she like?”

“Alice? Very open.”

“Open to God?”

“I meant about her past. For someone who says she doesn't trust easily, she decided to open up wide to me.”

“Oh. But other than that?”

“Hmm. Very much a go-getter. Watch out if you get between her and what she thinks is right. But having said that, she does listen.”

“And she just up and decided to meditate on the Word in the middle of the walk?”

“Well, we had been talking non-stop for the previous hour.”

“I'm just wondering what she found so fascinating that she didn't even say hello.”

“Feel free to ask her about that,” Sue said, and then changed the topic.

----------------------------------------

“There's the house,” Simon sighed, “More changes.”

“Your old home.”

“Sue told you?”

“She said your parents had moved, about nine years ago.”

“Yes, right after I started university. Gran was getting old, Mum and Dad decided they didn't need all the garden space. It certainly felt odd, though. A real break with the past.”

“I imagine. All that is garden?” She pointed to the space between the house and the road.

“Not quite. The driveway goes between the gardens of the neighbours before it gets to our plot. Our old plot, I should say.”

“It must have been isolated.”

“Very.”

“Where do you live now? I've never asked.”

“One room rented flat.”

“You don't miss having a garden?”

“I've got the university campus to wander in, and I don't need to mow the grass, which is a plus point.”

“That's true. Next question, feel free to earn my ire by refusing to reply: girlfriends? Sue said your gift being a problem was when you were fifteen.”

“Fourteen, actually. The end of term school party.”

“And now you're scarred for life?”

“No. But... she made fun of me for the rest of my school career. Tormented me, really, and the rest of the girls at school joined in. That... doesn't build a lot of self-confidence.”

“Tormented you how?”

“Seeming to be interested in me, what I was doing, etc, and then when I responded they turned it into a big 'let's make fun of Simon' thing.”

“So... a woman appearing interested in you makes all your alarm bells ring?”

“Exactly.”

“Sorry, I didn't know. I must have been ringing quite a lot of them.”

“Urm, yes.”

“I'm not going to make fun of you, Simon.”

“They said that too.” he replied.

“If you run away from me, you're not going to be able to take care of me.”

“I know.”

“I presume you've never had a girlfriend, or even a date?”

“Correct.”

“So, which of us is the most broken, in this area?”

“Me.”

“I agree. So, what did they never do?”

“Pardon?”

“What did they never do? At what point of relationship building did they turn it all into a big tormenting session? How do I know we've passed that point?”

“Passed that point?”

“Yes.”

“I don't think I understand.” he said, fearfully.

[Simon, think without panic please.] She thought to him.

His eyes opened wide.

[God has given me two parts of my gift back, partially. I can call to you or to Sue like this, without touch, and I can seek peace, which is what I was doing when you failed to kiss me.] She added “And I'm not listening, so it's strictly one-way at the moment. Either tell me I can, or reply verbally.”

“Two questions... what about the rest, and what do you mean, 'failed to kiss you'.”

“You could say I'm on probation. God didn't put it like that, he just said 'patience, daughter.' As for you failing to kiss me, well, you didn't did you? I understand why, but for future reference, if a woman is feigning sleep and refers to herself as sleeping beauty, kisses are definitely on her mind. So, getting back to my question, without panicking.”

“OK.” he said, in growing panic.

“You are planning to get to know me, I am planning to get to know you. That means we spend time together. It would save a lot of complicated explanations or outright lies to my friends and colleagues if I called you my boyfriend. You've already trusted me with your deepest secret, I've trusted you with mine. Anything controversial so far?”

“Not really. But if you call me your boyfriend, isn't that an outright lie?”

“Simon, can I point out that you've offered to accompany me on some time-unlimited journey to offer me help and protection. To protect me better, you need to get to know me pretty well. Agreed?”

“Yes.”

“What have I agreed to pay you for this?”

“Nothing.”

“So... you're not my hired body-guard.”

“No.” he agreed.

“So, what else might people call the friendship and concern that is bound to grow between us? Remember, no panicking, just clear thinking.”

“Romance?” he offered.

“No. Romance is all about roses, chocolates and overly expensive meals. Go on, make yourself say it.”

“Love.”

“Yes. You've already been patient, kind, unaccusing and generous towards me.”

“That's agape, not eros.”

“I know. Which of the two needs the most work and which one is the most likely to grow up all on its own unless we fight it really hard?”

“Eros is the one which doesn't need help.” he said.

“I agree. Are you scared of agape?”

“No, I guess not.”

“I'm not either. So, can we meet regularly to work on agape and mutual understanding?”

“Yes,” Simon said, relieved. That followed his commitment to her.

“Now... about the other one. Which would you prefer? To spend a lot of fervent prayer time trying to stop eros-type feelings, or accept that maybe they'll happen?”

“I guess..” he started, nervously, and was unable to finish.

“Do you feel I'm bullying you into anything?”

“Sort of.”

“Sorry. But you do see how dating is the closest thing to what we're doing, don't you? Dating at the start is all about getting to know the other person so you can decide if you trust them enough for romance. Then it moves into building on that trust for the purposes of increasing the romance. We're getting to know and trust each other, and we've got other motives, but romance might grow. Personally, I don't mind you calling me your girlfriend, your almost-girlfriend, your mission from God, or your new friend who you're spending lots of time with at the moment. But I think if you say the last one they're going to say you're in love whatever else you say.”

“We don't know each other well enough to say that.”

“Not for certain, no. Did the girls you knew ever do this to you?”

“No, certainly not.”

“So, what are you terrified of?”

“What comes next.”

“What might that be?”

“You asking for kisses, or asking if God put a time limit on me protecting you.”

“He didn't did he? That's nice.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. I'd hate to spend weeks and weeks getting to know you, going on a dangerous trip together, and knowing all the time that sometime we'd be saying 'See you in heaven if not before.' Don't you think so?”

He glanced at her, with his eyes and othereyes. She was radiant, gorgeous, trustworthy and full of joy and... anticipation? Simon wasn't sure.

“Yes, Alice, I agree. That'd be really difficult. It's better not knowing the future.”