Gate Deadlock (23 page)

‘Hi Emma. I hope I’m not bothering you.’

‘Not at all. What’s up?’

‘I think someone has stolen the plans, the
original plans I mean. I just can’t find them anywhere.’

‘What do you mean stolen?’

‘Well, I kept them in my office as I always do.
But they’re gone. The whole file is gone, to be precise.’

‘Just think, Yanni. When did you last see
them?’

‘The day the Brantel guy paid me a visit. You
know, Aubin, something like that?’

‘Auburn?’ I asked, holding my breath at the
sound of his name.

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘What did he want from you?’

He sounded surprised at my question. ‘He said
you had sent him. He told me to cover the real Point-X with
concrete because people in Brantel had found out. He said you were
into this. Did he lie to me?’

‘No, don’t worry, it’s okay. When did this
happen?’ I could almost hear the fast beating of my heart as I
prayed for his answer to be the one I hoped for.

‘More than a week ago. What about the
plans?’

I sighed. ‘Don’t worry. They are not our problem
anymore.’ I said, totally disillusioned.

He hesitated for a moment before he said ‘Okay
then. I’ll let you know if I find them. And I have to tell you
something that can’t be said over the phone.’

‘I’ll see you soon Yanni. I just can’t deal with
this right now.’

I knew he was trying to make sense of the sudden
change in my attitude, but this was all I could say to him. I could
not risk it. He was already more involved than he should have
been.

‘Bye Yanni. Thanks for everything.’

I hung up, graveled. What was Christopher
thinking? I wondered why he hadn’t told me about his decision to
cover Point –X. He was probably trying to protect me again. Could
he have taken the plans? He did not really need them, he had his
own copy, I had given it to him. Perhaps he did not want anybody
else to get them from Yanni; perhaps he wanted to destroy them
himself. He had told me he was going to use the changes to our
benefit. So, only two people had a copy of the plan that revealed
the exact position of Point – X now. Christopher and me.

It was two days after my conscious effort to
come out of depression that Susan visited me. It was little after
10 p.m. and I was alone in my apartment watching TV. I had refused
Kate and Tony’s invitation to go out with them, insisting that if
they stayed inside one more night for my sake, it would only make
me feel worse.

When I heard the bell ring, I made a dart for
the door, hoping it would be him.

When I saw Susan I jumped at her and hugged her
impatiently, unable to control myself. I soon realized she was not
sharing my enthusiasm, which was very unusual of her. I drew back,
alarmed, to scrutinize her face.

My heart started pounding. ‘How bad is it?’ I
whispered.

‘I’m really sorry. I wish I could tell you
everything is fine but… It’s bad…really bad Emma.’

‘Is he…?’

‘No, physically he’s fine.’ She hesitated. ‘Come
on. You’re going to need your laptop.’

We went into my bedroom and I turned on my
laptop with shivering hands. Susan took a Cd out of her bag and
gave it to me, silently, avoiding my eyes. I inserted it in the
computer and waited. A black background filled the screen and
small, white letters started to appear one by one, like shooting
stars, falling onto the screen from nowhere. The lump in my throat
had now extended to my chest and the old throbbing pain torn my
heart in two as I read Christopher’s message.

My darling Emma,

I’m giving you back your heart
because

I don’t deserve it anymore, for I am
the

old monster again.

Forgive me for not keeping my
promise

to come back to you, as it would
only

put your life in imminent danger.

I’m asking you to forget me and
to

fight for yourself. Fight to
survive.

Move on with your life. Be happy.

And please, don’t ever make me come
for you.

My heart will always belong with you,
never doubt that.

Christopher

My eyes narrowed as I made an effort to fathom
the meaning of the short, harrowing lines. Suddenly, the letters
started to vanish in front of my eyes, one by one, from the
beginning to the end of the message, the same way they had
appeared.

‘No, no!’ I cried, hitting hard on the keyboard.
His name had started to disappear now, from the first letter to the
last.

istopher

stopher

topher

opher

pher

her

er

r

‘No!’
I
whispered crying silently, my voice weak from the despair that
overwhelmed me.

‘I’m sorry.’ Susan said in a sad voice. ‘There
must be no evidence left. You see, they have warned him that they
will rescind the agreement if he contacts you in any way.’

She looked at my twisted face and perceived the
confusion suffused with despair on it.

‘It was Denzel. He persuaded the Board to
compromise and never threaten you again in exchange for…
Christopher’s return to the Squad.’

‘The Squad?’ My eyes widened with horror. That
would be Christopher’s worst nightmare. ‘How… How could you let him
do it? Don’t you know what it will do to him?’

‘He has agreed. He joined them voluntarily.
There was no chance he would let them hurt you.’ Susan did not
realize that every word was making it harder for me.

‘He loves you too much to allow that. That’s why
he has chosen his own sacrifice, as it was the only way out…for
you. Christopher knew about it a long time ago but we all hoped for
another solution, even at the last minute… Now we’ve lost him.’ Her
eyes filled with tears as she tried to hug me. I recoiled in
terror.

‘He said he would come back, whatever happened.
He said they could not tear us apart.’ I cried.

She shook her beautiful head. ‘I’m sorry honey.
You must be strong and move on with your life. Listen, I only have
a few minutes. His house, it’s yours. I’ve done all the paperwork
for you. You must…’

Move on with my life. The words kept echoing
like the song of a ruined Cd. I was not listening to her anymore.
Shattered by the news, I opened my drawer and took my car keys. I
was frantic. His house. I had to go there, see with my own eyes,
his clothes, his books, his smell…

I rushed outside as Susan followed me, shouting
my name. I started the car, wasting no time to fasten my
seatbelt.

‘It can’t be true. It can’t be happening.
Please, God, no! Don’t let me be too late. Oh, Christopher, what
have you done?’ I repeated to myself, speeding off, my face soaked
from the tears.

I only caught a glimpse of the car that appeared
out of the blue, ignoring the stop sign. My Beetle swerved
dangerously in a last effort to avoid the collision and I found
myself heading towards a cluster of trees, having lost control of
the wheel.

The awful sound of the crash sounded as a blast
to my ears. Then, the darkness of the night surrounded me,
swallowing me into the blessed oblivion of nothingness.

9.

HOPE

I was sinking deeper
and deeper into the ravaging darkness. The voices around me had now
turned into whispers and sobs. I felt weaker everyday. But I was
welcoming death, I craved for it.

Then the most unexpected thing happened to pull
me out of the blackness I was so eagerly subsiding into. I remember
hearing a distant, familiar voice in my ear. It was a voice of the
past, a voice full of memories. I was not sure whose voice it was.
I only was aware of whose voice I wanted it to be.

‘Emma?’ the musical voice whispered to my ear.
‘It’s Tom. If you can hear me, just squeeze my hand.’

He slid his warm hand under my cold fingers.

Tom? A whole slew of images filled my
mind instantly; beautiful faces laughing, a glass of a cool drink
under the relaxing plash of waves, the warmth of the summer night,
an angry, warning voice on a porch, deep blue eyes. Life.
Christopher. I had to respond to this request.

I put all my strength in my hand and managed to
move my fingers only for a split of a second.

The Crusader sighed in my ear. Then he spoke
slowly, stressing each word carefully, as if he was talking to a
child.

‘You must fight this Emma. Don’t give up. We
need you to come back. We need you to save Christopher. Do it for
him. Not everything is lost, yet. When you are back on your feet,
if you still love him, come to us, try to find us. We will be
waiting for you.’

He drew his hand back, slowly, but I felt
something among my fingers. Something he had left for me. I tried
hard to feel it, I had to open my eyes and see. I concentrated on
it, repeating to myself that I had to wake up. I had so many
questions to ask him.

Voices filled the room again. But they were not
so distant anymore.

‘I’ll stay with her tonight. You need to take
some rest. Harry is waiting to take you to your hotel.’

Kate must have just walked into the room. If I
could talk to her, make her call Tom back.

‘I wanted to say goodnight to her.’ my mother’s
weary voice replied.

‘What is this? Kate, there’s something in her
hand. I can’t take it from her. She’s… Oh, my god! Kate! She’s
clasping it!’ she cried, her voice twisted with anxiety.

‘It’s a photograph. I…don’t believe it! Was
someone here?’ Kate asked breathlessly.

‘This young doctor… I’ve never seen him before.
He’s just left…’

Kate did not say anything. In a blur, behind my
half open eyes, I caught a glimpse of her rushing to the
corridor.

‘Emma, darling, you are awake! Oh, my God! You
are back! Thank you God, thank you!’ My mother stroked my forehead,
with the warmest smile on her face. She looked so beautiful! I
tried to smile back but I guess I only managed a weird twist of my
lips. Even the slightest movement brought about severe pain to my
numb body.

She broke out in tears, pressing her
face on my chest, enclosing me in her soft embrace, as if she was
afraid I might slip away again.

The doctors were surprised at my remarkable
speed of recovery. They said that I had to undergo long-term
physiotherapy but I would be on my feet again in a few months.

‘You had us worried, sweetie.’ Kate told me the
next day. ‘The doctors told us that you should have woken up a long
time ago. They just couldn’t explain why you were still in …such a
state. They said you just …gave up.’

She told me I had been unconscious for more than
two weeks, which I had found very hard to believe.

‘And it took only a picture to wake you up.’

‘Give it to me.’ I whispered. She took the
picture from the bedside table and brought it in front of my
face.

It was the photograph of Christopher and me; he
was leaning towards me, smiling, so unbelievably handsome. I could
recall his exact words at that moment.

‘What’s on your mind?’ he had asked me before
the flash of Susan’s camera interrupted us.

It was such bliss to see his face again. I
had almost forgotten how beautiful he was. This was the only thing
I had left from him, from my Christopher. When would I be strong
enough to look for him, as Tom had asked me to do? I was determined
to put all my strength into this. I felt warm tears
wetting
my cheeks.

‘Don’t cry Emma. Please.’ Kate pleaded.

‘I’m …okay’

‘Who was it Emma? Who gave you this? Did he come
here?’

‘It …was…Tom.’

‘I see.’ She shook her head, disillusioned. ‘I
will never forgive myself for leaving you that night, you know. If
I had been there…’

‘It wasn’t your …fault, Kate. Don’t torture
yourself. I… would have taken the… car that night… anyway.’

She did not argue that, but I could read on her
face the guilt with which she, so undeservedly, faulted herself. I
wondered how much Kate knew about that night. As for myself, I
could recall all the facts until the accident. The doorbell,
Susan’s weird expression, the shooting stars on the laptop screen,
Christopher’s name disappearing, my hands clasping the wheel,
speeding off…

For the next three weeks it took until the
doctors gave their permission to transfer me back to London, I was
making remarkable progress day by day. Flowers and stuffed animals
from my friends and my tutors constantly decorated my room, making
it look friendlier, less stark. I had also received so many cards
and letters, that it surprised me to realize how many people had
been worried about me.

Kate had insisted on staying in Greece after
summer school was over to assist my mother until it was safe for me
to travel.

I could not walk yet, as the most of my
injuries had been at the lower part of my
abdomen and
on my spine, at the back of my neck. Had I fastened my seatbelt on
that night, I would have suffered much less injury as the doctors
said.

But the nightmare was far
from over yet, as I soon had to face another blow.
It
was my mother the one who had to break the news to me this
time.

‘Emma, honey, there is something you should
know.’ she told me one night, a few days before our departure for
London. I put down the book Kate had brought me and looked at her.
We had become really close now. Inside the cold walls of the
hospital room, I had found the warm, affectionate embrace of my
mother, the one I had been missing for thirteen years.

The expression on her face had alarmed me. I
knew my mum really well. This was not easy for her.

‘What’s wrong, mum?’ I asked her.

‘I don’t know how to tell you this Emma. There
is no easy way. I know you still hurt, so I asked the doctors not
to tell you. I wanted you to hear it from me when you would be
strong enough.’