Authors: Gill James
Perhaps she could build a shelter, somewhere hidden in the trees. That would keep her warm. She didn’t need to sleep now, not after that long siesta.
She started to look for long branches to build a frame. Soon she had eight or nine and started to prop them together. Perhaps she could make a type of wigwam. The branches kept slipping, and she couldn’t work out how to fix them together anyway. Soon she was covered in scratches and her hands and arms were dirty.
This is hopeless
, she thought.
I’m never going to be able to do this
. She sat down for a minute and tried to stop the tears, which were stinging her eyes.
This is such a mess
.
She heard a twig snap behind her. She held her breath.
‘Who’s there?’ she heard a young male voice say.
She clutched at the ground. Who could it be?
The man stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, and dressed
in a dark green silk tunic. His long leather desert boots looked new and expensive.
‘Imigriana?’ he said. He laughed. ‘Don’t look so scared. Don’t you recognise me? What are you doing out here anyway?’
He hadn’t been fooled, whoever he was. No wonder, the band was no longer holding her chest flat and her headdress had slipped. She hadn’t noticed because she could feel a tightness around her head anyway.
It was going to happen again. She was going to have another fit. She felt for her pocket, but the pocket had gone. She must have torn it. There was nothing she could do now. Just as she felt the room begin to close around her, the light caught the stranger’s hair. It was Jan, come to get her back. But why had he called her Imigriana?
He turned away from her. She wanted to call out.
The room seemed different this time. She was aware that she was lying on a bed. Something was sticking in her arm. She looked to see what it was. There was a tube coming from bag of liquid. A machine was making a strange beeping noise. It was more real this time.
She wanted him to turn back to her. She tried to call. Then the room changed to the normal one and she was imprisoned.
‘Like I said, Mr De Vries, only close family are allowed to visit.’
‘But I’m her
boyfriend
, for fuck’s sake,’ said Jan, banging his fist down on the counter separating him from the po-faced hospital clerk. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, of course. He used to be her boyfriend. And he wanted to be again. He would talk to her and explain everything, over and over again until she got it, until she understood and woke up. Clear up all the misunderstandings. They said that people in a coma could often hear.
‘Your name’s not on the list. Just Mr and Mrs Grant and Paul Grant,’ replied the clerk frowning.
‘Well, is there anybody with her now?’ asked Jan. This was ridiculous. He’d kept out of the way of the Grants. But he’d been to the hospital every single day, and sat with her if there was nobody else there. The family were going less and less now. Mr and Mrs Grant had gone back to work, but one of them came most evenings. Paul was back at school, but came round after school two or three days a week. Yet Jan had been here every day and the other three clerks who worked at the ward desk on a rota basis had been understanding and let him in. This one was new on the job and a proper job’s worth. He was looking at Jan as if he was something that the cat had brought in.
The clerk sighed.
‘No there isn’t,’ he replied. ‘But I cannot let just anyone in without authorisation.’
‘Well, can’t you get that?’ asked Jan. ‘Isn’t there someone you can ring? For God’s sake, isn’t it supposed to help having someone talk to her all the time?’ Now the clerk was getting agitated. He sighed again.
‘I think the family want to keep her private in case there are
any more seizures. But I’ll ring Doctor Jansen and see what I can do. Would you care to take a seat?’
‘No, I’ll stand,’ replied Jan. He was too full of energy to want to sit down. He must see her. He must talk to her. If this idiot of a clerk didn’t hurry up, Paul might arrive and he’d have no chance of being with her today. Jan pushed his hair from his face and began to pace backwards and forwards around the reception area.
‘I see,’ he heard the clerk say. ‘Unofficial?’
He nodded a couple of times.
‘I understand,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell him, then.’
Come on, come on
, thought Jan. He just had to see her, every single day. It would be terrible if he didn’t.
‘Well, it seems…’ began the clerk.
Too late, footsteps came along the corridor. Jan could already hear Mrs Grant’s high-pitched voice. Mrs Grant? What was she doing here at this time?
The chatter stopped as the three members of the Grant family turned the corner. Paul was carrying a large birthday cake, and three packages wrapped in birthday paper. Jan went hot all over. It wasn’t her birthday was it and he’d forgotten? No, surely not – not for a couple of months.
The three members of the Grant family stared at him.
‘Hi Jan,’ said Paul at last. ‘It’s my birthday today. We thought we’d have a little party in Christina’s room. It would be a shame not to let her join in the fun. Are you going to come along?’
Jan didn’t know what to say. He was aware that Mrs Grant was staring at him and her eyes didn’t exactly look friendly.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she shouted at Jan. ‘She was holding a pot of some muck from Pandora’s Potions when it happened. Trying to make herself look good to attract scum like you.’
‘Steady on, love,’ said Mr Grant. ‘I’m sure he means her no harm.’
Mrs Grant started sobbing.
‘I think it might be better if you came back later,’ whispered Mr Grant.
‘No!’ shouted Mrs Grant. ‘That’s my baby in there. She’s too young.’
‘I only want to help, Mrs Grant,’ said Jan. ‘I wouldn’t hurt her.’
‘We know,’ said Mr Grant, putting his arm round Mrs Grant’s shoulder. ‘Give the lad a chance. It might do her good to listen to somebody outside the family. You know what the doctor said.’
Mrs Grant nodded. She seemed to get herself back under control.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘All right. But can you come back in an hour? When we’ve had our little celebration.’
Jan nodded. They went into the room. This was going to be a long hour. He watched through the window for a while. He saw Paul unpack the cake. Mrs Grant sat at Christina’s side and held her hand. Mr Grant appeared to be telling some sort of joke and laughed at himself. Jan couldn’t bear to look anymore. He started to jog, first along the corridors and out of the main entrance to the hospital, and then round and round the grounds until he was out of breath. He sat for a while on a bench in the small rock garden near the side entrance.
The Grants were just leaving when the hour was eventually up and he arrived back at Christina’s room. Mrs Grant nodded curtly.
‘Well, we had a great party,’ Paul said. ‘Pity she couldn’t have some of that chocolate cake. That was something else!’
‘Thank you for coming,’ said Mr Grant. His voice was hoarse. He looked right into Jan’s eyes, and then looked away. ‘Maybe you’ll get through to her. We can’t,’ he said to the floor tiles.
They walked away, all three looking at the ground and their shoulders slightly hunched. Jan opened the door to Christina’s room and quietly made his way in.
If only she could breathe on her own. That would be
something at least. He’d read up all about it. That would mean part of her brain was working normally. It would suggest that she would recover eventually. But would she? Would she come back?
The beep-beep of the machine that was monitoring her heartbeat was soothing, somehow. Her heart beat strongly.
Jan sat down at the side of her bed. He took her hand in his. It was warm but otherwise lifeless.
‘Where are you, sweetheart?’ he whispered. ‘Please come back to us.’
He leant forward and half stood. He pushed her hair away from her face and leant over and kissed her forehead.
‘You’re still beautiful,’ he said. ‘Even though you’re so deeply asleep.’ He sat back down and leant across the bed, pulling her arm a little more towards him and tucking it under own. He looked up at the drip, which was connected to her arm.
‘Hey, you’re doing well today,’ he said. ‘I’m glad you’re eating properly. Keep up your strength for when you wake up.’ He could have sworn he could actually see the liquid going down. He supposed it was hot in there, so she would need a lot of fluid to stop her becoming dehydrated. But wasn’t that even more proof that her apparently paralysed body was still working well?
‘I start my course next week,’ he said. ‘I’ll still come to see you every day, though. I don’t think I’ll be able to concentrate but I’m going to try really hard. Become a great architect, so you’ll be proud of me and your parents will approve. I think your dad’s coming round. Isn’t that brother of yours great? Did you enjoy the party? Did you try the chocolate cake?’
Nothing. There was nothing. Just the heart machine and the sound of the one that was helping her to breathe. He should keep talking. They said you should keep on talking about anything, everyday things. Apparently, when people come out of a coma, the first sense to come back is hearing. They might hear for ages before they can give you any sign at all that they can understand.
‘I’ve got a new jacket,’ he said. ‘I think you’ll like it. I got it second hand from the flea market, so it’s not all stiff. It’s already worn in and not very old. And it still smells new. Would you like to touch it or smell it?’
He slipped the jacket off and stroked her hand across it. He held it up to his own nose.
‘Oh, it so good,’ he said, ‘The smell of leather. Smell!’ He held the jacket up to Christina’s nose. No response.
‘No?’ he asked. ‘You don’t feel like smelling it today. Okay! No worries.’ He slipped the jacket on to the back of the chair. ‘I’ll be so glad when you can come out on the bike again. Just love to have you there behind me again.’ He shut his own eyes for a moment to try to remember the sensation of her arms around him. He remembered one particular warm evening, which had followed a hot day. Of course, they’d had helmets on, but only thin shirts. Her skin touched his and the outline of her breasts gently brushed against his back, her perfume mixing with the smell of leather and petrol.
He felt the stirrings of an erection.
No, he shouldn’t think of her like that, especially now that she was so ill. Hadn’t he said to her mother that he wouldn’t do her any harm?
‘Not that loving you can hurt you,’ he murmured and stroked her hair. ‘I do love you, you know that,’ he added. ‘That Susanne was a bitch, a tart, and we did nothing. I wouldn’t want to touch her. I’d never even want to speak to her again. She just made me give her a lift that day.’ He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it. ‘I’m sorry I went to the convention. I won’t ever go again until you can come with me.’ He stopped for a moment but carried on stroking her arm.
‘Come back, Princess,’ he said. ‘Come back.’
Suddenly her body stiffened. Jan’s own heart started to beat. He took her hand in hers again.
‘Sweetheart,’ he said, ‘are you coming back?’
She did seem to clutch his hand. Suddenly, her body started to jerk.
No, not that again
, thought Jan.
If she has more seizures, it might damage her brain
.
‘Can somebody help here, please,’ he shouted. He pushed the emergency button.
He heard the urgent footsteps running along the corridor. He turned to face the window. He couldn’t watch her like that, not when he had no chance of stopping it.
‘…Mils of…’ he heard one of the doctors shout. More footsteps.
A nurse came and touched his elbow. ‘I think it might be better if you wait outside,’ she said. ‘Or even perhaps come back tomorrow.’
Jan couldn’t speak, though he managed to nod.
‘Hey, she’s just opened her eyes,’ called another of the doctors. ‘Come on Christina, come on.’
Jan paused and looked at her. Her eyes were closed again. Her body was still jerking alarmingly.
‘No, nothing,’ said the first doctor. ‘Must have been an involuntary motor action. Easy now, Christina. Easy now.’
Jan walked out of the room. The lump in his throat was getting larger, threatening to choke him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to stop the dampness forming. As he walked out of the hospital, he stared at the floor.
‘Come back, Princess.’ Christina could hear Jan’s voice. ‘Come back.’ She was still in the room, the normal room. She still felt as if she was locked in there and she couldn’t move though the whole place seemed to be shaking. But through the mists of time and place she heard his voice again, quite clearly. ‘Sweetheart, are you coming back?’ Then there were other voices. Ones she didn’t recognise. She’d never heard sounds in this room before.
‘Come on Imigriana,’ she heard quite clearly. The voice was similar to Jan’s but not quite the same. ‘Steady now. You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.’
The room was letting her go. The tight band around her head was melting. Someone was stroking her hair. There was a strong arm around her shoulders. Was it Jan? Was she in Jan’s arms?
‘Hey, you’re back.’ No, it wasn’t Jan. Who was it?
Everything was still blurred. She rubbed her eyes. Her vision cleared. She remembered where she was – running away from the palace. She looked down at her clothes. They were even more of a mess than before. She pulled herself up and turned to look at the stranger who was holding her. It wasn’t Jan. The clothes were all wrong. No leathers. Just the baggy tunic and trousers. But otherwise it could be Jan. His face was so similar, even a little blond hair poking out from beneath his headdress. His voice was almost Jan’s but not quite.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Christina, aware that as usual after a fit she was speaking very slowly, and she would struggle to find words for a bit. ‘Have I had…?
‘Yes, you’ve had a fit. But I don’t think it’s done you any harm,’ said the stranger.
‘I couldn’t get…The…’ What was that little thing she always
tried to eat when she felt one of these attacks coming on?
‘You couldn’t get a pollogum seed in time,’ said the stranger. ‘Don’t worry. That happens to my sister sometimes.’
‘Your sister?’ asked Christina. ‘She’s…’
‘Yes, she’s epileptic too,’ said the stranger. ‘But I didn’t know that you were.’ He paused and frowned. ‘Though I suppose they would keep it quiet about a royal princess.’
‘I’m not,’ began Christina. ‘I am…but I’m not.’
Oh, fug away
,
brain, start working again
, she thought.
Suddenly another part of her seemed to arrive and the last feelings from the room faded.
‘I am epileptic, but I’m not the royal princess,’ she managed to say at last. ‘Who are you?’
‘Philaderan, Leonis’s friend. On my way to the palace to plead with Imigriana on his behalf.’
‘Oh dear,’ said Christina. ‘We have made a mess of things, haven’t we? I mean, we didn’t mean to upset her.’
‘You are so much like her,’ said Philaderan. ‘It’s unbelievable. I mean, I know everyone says you could be identical twins, but I’ve never seen anyone who looked so much like somebody else before. Can they tell you apart even when you’re together?’
Christina shook her head.
‘In fact we pretended I was her at first and that she’d lost her memory, so that when I didn’t know how to do something, well that was the reason. Now, sometimes, when I do something not quite right, they think we’re messing around.’
Philaderan grinned. ‘Bit of a laugh, I should think.’
‘Well it was,’ replied Christina. ‘But now I don’t suppose I’ll ever be welcome at the palace again.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you will,’ replied Philaderan. ‘Imigriana has a fast temper, but she soon calms down again.’
Just like me
, thought Christina.
Philaderan frowned. ‘Don’t tell me you were trying to run away.’ He looked down at the grubby clothes. ‘You were, weren’t
you? You wouldn’t have got far dressed like that. Good job I found you.’
‘Oh I think I would!’ Christina retorted. She’d fooled the other servants hadn’t she? She’d even fooled Lydia.
‘Really, crossing the desert is not trivial,’ said Philaderan. ‘It really is as well that I found you.’
The fire suddenly went out of Christina. He was right of course.
‘I was rather hoping I would die,’ she said, realising that it was true in a way. This had to be a dream, an unusually vivid one and incredibly long, and actually a bit too sensible, but a dream really and what she really wanted to do was wake up and get away from this world.
‘No, don’t say that,’ said Philaderan.
‘No, I didn’t really mean that quite,’ said Christina. It was a silly thing to have said. ‘I just want things to stop being bad and start being good again.
‘Look, I ought to get to the palace,’ said Philaderan, ‘and I expect they’re worried about you by now.’
‘I don’t suppose they’ve even missed me,’ said Christina.
‘They surely have,’ said Philaderan. ‘And they will be worried. They are good people. I expect Imigriana is still sad, but I bet she’s not angry anymore, just even sadder because you’re not there.’
Christina couldn’t look at him. ‘I just can’t face her,’ she said. She couldn’t face him, either. She wished suddenly that she had her veil.
‘I tell you what,’ said Philaderan. ‘I’ll carry on there, and I’ll give them the message from Leonis. I can tell them that you are safe and well, but if you like, you could come and stay with my family for a while. It will be good for my sister to meet another who has the falling sickness.’ He gently lifted her chin up so that she had to look at him. Christina caught her breath. Jan often used to tilt her chin up to his face like that. ‘And I shall fetch you
some fresh clothes because much as it is really lovely to look at such a beautiful face, I should not be doing so. You need a veil young lady.’
‘Why have you come here anyway?’ asked Christina.
‘Well, believe it or not,’ replied Philaderan, ‘to collect pollogum seeds for my sister.’ He threw a small sack at Christina. ‘Help yourself. They grow well in these woods. They work better if you collect them after unset. Take some now. You’ll get through the after-effects of the seizure faster. And it’ll make it longer before another one happens.’
‘But what about your sister?’ asked Christina.
‘Well, I’ll show you where to find them and you can collect some more while I’m gone,’ he replied. ‘But first I shall make a fire and then you can keep warm while I’m away.’
He immediately started collecting wood. Christina remembered the long branches she had found. If they could break them up, they would make good logs.
‘What, were you trying to light a fire?’ asked Philaderan.
‘I was trying to build a shelter,’ she replied.
Philaderan laughed.
‘Really, you women,’ he said. ‘Always trying to do the men’s work. Why don’t you just do your own?’
‘What’s that? Sit at home and do nothing?’ asked Christina. She couldn’t believe that she had just heard such a sexist remark.
‘Sit at home and rule the world,’ said Philaderan, looking genuinely puzzled.
‘Rule the world?’ asked Christina.
‘Yes,’ replied Philaderan. ‘That’s what you do best. Make the decisions. We just carry them out.’
Christina stopped to think for a moment. Yes, that was what happened. Queen Benelov made all the decisions and King Tutoralph mainly did what she said. It was even a bit like that with her own parents.
‘Are you all right?’ asked Philaderan as he worked at the fire.
‘Yes,’ replied Christina, ‘I was just thinking about what you were saying. I guess it’s true.’
‘Of course it’s true,’ he replied. ‘Everyone knows that.’
He stepped back and then pulled something out of his bag. It was a metal pot. He took off the lid and pulled out a long metal sick. He struck the stick against the side of the pot and a flame appeared. He lit the fire. Within seconds it was blazing.
‘Look, I’ll show you where to collect the seeds and then you can make yourself comfortable by the fire,’ said Philaderan. ‘It’s important to rest after an attack.’
They walked a few yards further into the woods.
‘There’s the bush, look,’ he said. He showed her how to collect the seeds by tapping the side of the pod until it opened and then scooping the seeds into a sack.
‘Do about twenty pods,’ he said. ‘That should be enough for both you and Maniella. We must leave some behind so that the bushes can continue growing. Then rest by the fire. I shall be no longer than two hours.’
‘Did you come by electric dragon?’ asked Christina.
‘No,’ replied Philaderan. ‘Too uncomfortable for so long a journey. I used my sandhorse. And he’s plenty strong enough for two. ‘Okay,’ said Philaderan. ‘I’ll see you soon.’
Then he was gone and she was left on her own. First, she collected the twenty pods worth of seeds, like he had said. Then she settled down by the fire. She rearranged he clothes, so that she looked more like a girl again, and she even managed to piece her veil back together. Even though there was no one to see her, she felt more respectable now. She still didn’t feel sleepy, but she was glad to rest. The seizure had been a shock. And because she had not had so many lately she was no longer used to how weak they made her feel. She fell into a daydream as she looked at the fire. It seemed that hardly any time had passed when she heard Philaderan’s footsteps coming back.
‘It has calmed down at the palace,’ he said. ‘But yes, it would
be good for you to go away for a while. And Imigriana has agreed to see Leonis soon. Queen Benelov is not angry with you, but she doesn’t understand why you did that.’
They wouldn’t
, thought Christina.
And it would have been no big deal in my world
. No, that was wrong. It had been such a big deal when she’d seen Susanne on Jan’s motorbike. Oh, perhaps all this faithfulness and modesty was better after all.
‘There are some clothes in this bag,’ said Philaderan, ‘and Queen Benelov has sent you a warm cloak. You get changed into something comfortable and decent, while I put the fire out.’
Christina took herself behind some trees. She picked out a thick cotton robe and leggings with its matching chiffon veil. She dressed quickly and she even managed to get the veil right first time. She then pulled around her shoulders the warm woollen cloak that the queen had sent. Now she felt more normal. She smiled to herself. A few weeks ago, she would have never thought she would ever feel normal in a robe and veil. She carefully folded the dirty clothes round the chalice and packed them neatly into her small bag.
‘That’s more like it,’ said Philaderan and grinned. ‘Now let’s go and find Sandstorm and we can be on our way.’
‘That’s a lovely name,’ said Christina.
‘Just wait until you see him,’ said Philaderan.
They made their way out of the woods, to the edge of the desert. The horse was munching some of the short grass. He was tall and the colour of pale sand, with patches of silvery white. Despite his big size, his movements were very delicate and he looked as if he might float away at any moment. He was exactly like any horse that Christina had seen before, except that his feet and hooves were slightly different, more like those of a camel.
‘He’s beautiful,’ said Christina.
‘I know,’ replied Philaderan.
The horse’s back was covered with a fine polished leather two-seater saddle. Philaderan neatly tied their bags on either
side of the horse to the straps, which came down from the middle of the saddle.
‘It won’t all be too heavy for him, will it?’ asked Christina. ‘That saddle looks heavy enough without us and the bags.’
‘He’s strong,’ said Philaderan. ‘True, I normally ride bare back, but I thought you’d be more comfortable with a saddle. If he gets tried, I can walk a little of the way. Come on, we’d better get going before the sun gets too far up into the sky.’ He swung himself up onto the horse’s back and then offered Christina his hand. She was amazed at how easily he lifted her up.
They set off. The horse’s movements were slow but smooth at first, and then as he picked up speed, they just seemed to glide across the sand.
‘Hold on tight,’ said Philaderan. ‘Lean on my back if you want to.’
Christina felt safe there. Philaderan’s back was quite comfortable. She dozed off.
The warmth of the early morning sun and the slower motion of the animal woke her.
‘Sleep well?’ asked Philaderan.
‘Yes, thank you,’ replied Christina. She did feel refreshed.
‘Could you manage to walk the last mile?’ he asked. ‘Sandstorm is getting tired.’
‘Yes of course,’ replied Christina.
She had forgotten how difficult it was to walk on the sand. But Philaderan seemed to be going along without any problems at all.
‘Go with the sand,’ he said. ‘Sway. So you almost skate through it.’
She copied him. Yes, it did work. Soon she was moving quite smoothly, though she had to take off her cloak as it was now becoming a little too warm.
‘There it is, look,’ said Philaderan after about twenty minutes.
The white building shimmered in the early morning sun. It was not as big as the palace, but it was just as grand and sparkled
like a diamond.
‘Welcome to my home, Princess Christina.’
Home. She liked the idea of home.