Blue Flame. Robert A. Webster

‘Probably with a Guide’s power, Heidi wouldn’t have noticed this.’ he thought.

      “Thank you for coming, Mr Potts. The Danish embassy only told us recently that Heidi died. We lost contact with her years ago. I’m afraid we weren’t close,” said Greta, who looked guilty, and throwing Harold a piqued glare, said. “The last time we visited Heidi was when Sharon was born and we haven’t seen her since.”

      “I understand she left some property for us?” Harold said, grinning.

      “Well, sort of,” said Church. He took a small velvet box, containing the antique ring from his jacket pocket and took out the ring, showing it to the couple.

      Greta gasped, “I have never seen that before,” she said, admiring the large, valuable looking antiquity.

      “Now Mr Potts, what do you mean by; it was sort of for us?” asked Harold.

      “Please call me Church. And the ring is for your daughter, Sharon, and my instructions were to give her this on her eighteen birthday, which I believe is today,” said Church, pulling out a sheet of headed paper that he’d made on his PC from his inside jacket pocket.

      Harold and Greta looked puzzled, and although Church’s ability never stretched to picking up normal mortals emotions, he could see their embarrassment and guilt.

      “But, Sharon never met Heidi. The only time she has seen her was just after she was born,” said Greta fidgeting.

      “Be quiet Greta, you’re repeating yourself,” snapped Harold and continued, “That’s okay Church. We can give it to Sharon later. She is sick in her bed at the moment.” He stammered and looked at Greta for backup.

      “Yes,” said Greta. “No problem, we will give it to her later… she will be pleased.”

      “I’m sorry,” said Church, showing them the paper, “but my instructions were specific. I have to hand the ring personally to Sharon.”

      He handed the couple the letter. He had added an extra incentive, which they read with their eyes widening as they read the bottom section.

      Designer / Manufacturer.

      Georg Jensen, Copenhagen, Circa: 1925.

      Commissioned for: Alexandrine of Mecklenburg-Schwenn.

      24 kt gold setting

      1 x 7 carat Emerald, oval cut (AGL 2) excellent

      7 x 0.5 carat Diamonds, round, brilliant-cut (GIA E)

      Total weight gold 9.4(gms)

      Appraised: €730,000.

      Church noticed the Pinquists’ expressions change as they both looked amazed at the ring and saw the name of its previous owner. Church prided himself on this deception and thought adding the Georg Jensen crest was a nice touch, although maybe putting the old queen consort of Denmark as the previous owner might have been overkill.

      “How did Heidi get this?” Greta stammered.

      “I don’t know.” said Church, “but you can see why I have to follow Heidi’s wishes; the item is of great value.”

      Whilst still holding onto the document, Church could see Harold and Greta pondering, and Harold sighed and said, “Sharon has been sick for some time. The doctors say she has got adolescent schizophrenia, so she never leaves her room.”

      “She gets violent,” interrupted Greta, sounding embarrassed, which got her an indignant stare from Harold, who continued, “It is a little difficult to see her now. She had a bad episode this morning, claiming the dead were talking to her again and ranting about a ghost called Jack.”

      “We had to sedate her.” interrupted Greta.

      Church sat back onto the sofa.

      ‘Grandpa Jack must have already contacted her. At least they are making my job easier,’ he thought. Church smiled and said, “I’ve had experience with these types of cases, which is why Denmark contacted my company and sent me along,” Church produced a business card from his top pocket and handed it to Harold.

      “PATH,” said Harold, “What’s that?”

      “I’ll explain later, but let me assure you I am only here to help you and Sharon. Now, if I could see her, I am sure I can help. I can give her the heirloom which she can sign over to you if she wishes.”

      Church’s last sentence gave the Pinquists’ the incentive he had hoped, as Harold sighed and said, “Greta, go upstairs and see if Sharon is awake yet and tell her she has a visitor.”

      Greta nodded, nervously got off the sofa, and went upstairs. Harold tried to engage Church in meaningless conversation, but Church’s thoughts and senses concentrated on what was going on upstairs. He had felt the presence of the gift from the moment he had entered, but could not detect any emotion from the gifted one, which surprised him. ‘She must be in a deep sleep.’ He thought.

      A deep emotion hit him. Fear and confusion surged through his body, emotions that he hadn’t felt to this degree.

      Although taken aback by the sudden surge, he remained calm.

      He could hear Greta’s voice and then another voice yelling, “Fuck off, out of my room.”

      Church heard Greta trying to calm Sharon down and obscenities went on for several minutes, until silence.

      Greta came back downstairs and into the living room, shaking her head and looking bemused.

      “What happened?” Church asked, seeing Greta shaken.

      “I’m not sure,” said Greta. “One minute she was shouting and screaming as usual and then she went silent as if someone slapped her. She then smiled at me and said, “Please send Church up, Mother.”

      “That’s an improvement already,” said Harold, who then asked, “Why do you have a stupid, bewildered look on your face Greta?”

      Greta took a deep breath and said, “I didn’t tell her that she had a visitor, and I certainly never mentioned his name.”

      Church then picked up another emotion coming from upstairs… Hope.

      Church got off the sofa, putting the ring in his pocket, but leaving the valuation letter on the coffee table for the Pinquists to ponder over.

      “I will go by myself to see Sharon if that’s okay with you,” he said.

      “That’s fine. Go to the top of the stairs. It’s the first room on the right,” said Harold, putting his arm around his shaken wife’s shoulders.

      Church looked at Harold consoling his wife and as he climbed the stair thought, ‘I bet that’s seldom witnessed in this house.’

      He knocked on the door of the first room on the right.

      “Come in, Church,” said Sharon, her voice sounding hoarse.

      Church entered the room. His first impression was of a hospital ward. It looked clinical, with pill bottles and injection ampoules laid out on the top of a large white bedside cabinet, along with a carafe of water and a single glass. A yellow plastic box was on another table, used for sharps disposal.

      Sharon lay in the bed. She looked groggy after her morning dose of sedative. She looked ashen, with her crimson aura dim. Church saw an empty ampoule of Midazolam, a strong sedative, on the cabinet top and an empty syringe.

      Church noticed the teenager had the same wavy blonde hair like her mother, although matted and uncombed.

      Sharon sat up in bed and swung her feet over the side, appearing to be in a trance.

      ‘Effects of the drugs,’ thought Church. He wondered why he hadn’t felt the ‘thunderbolt’ (Cupid’s arrow) like Granny Pearl said she had when she first met Jack. From what he knew about the Joining, it was what all Keeper and Guides experience when they meet their Chosen-one.

      “Happy