A Captain Scarlet and the
Mysterons story for Christmas 2005
By Chris Bishop
(The
character of ‘Rose Metcalfe’ is used with the consent of her creator, Lezli
Farrington. The events of this
story take place a few years in the Future, and have been inspired by situations
suggested by Lezli’s many fanfics, foremost amongst them “Pride and Joy”, in
which the character of Rose first appeared.
Thanks
to Lezli for lending her character, and to Marion Woods and Mary J. Rudy for
their invaluable beta-reading abilities.
Merry
Christmas to all.)
Christmas Eve – at some
time in the Future.
"How is he
doing, Doctor?" Colonel
White was standing next to the bed where Captain Scarlet was lying, eyes closed
and hooked to the instruments registering his condition. Over the past years during which the
indestructible agent of Spectrum had been repeatedly injured – or had even died
–in the course of his multiple missions, White had learned to understand the
readings on the panel embedded into the wall just over the bed. If he wasn't mistaken, it wasn't looking
too good for the patient right now.
But he wanted to have confirmation from Doctor Fawn. It came, exactly what he expected, as Fawn,
exhaling a deep breath, made a last note on his working pad and addressed him.
"He's stable, but his condition is not improving.
Which, considering his metabolism, is not a good thing at all.” "He should
have been on his feet hours ago," White muttered in concern. "He’s
mostly healed, but taking into account his usual performance, he should have
healed entirely thirty-six hours ago.” Fawn confirmed. "And for some reason, he won’t wake.
He’s plunged in a deep coma.” “What is
the reason for this?” White asked. “I know he was seriously injured but…” “His
injuries were extensive, granted,” Fawn admitted. “But as you know, he’s received and survived worse in the
past. This is not… normal." "So what is
the problem with him?"
White asked again. "Do I have
to tell you?” Fawn scowled. “It
should be obvious what is wrong with him.
Especially for you, Charles."
White
answered with a slow nod, staring thoughtfully at the set face of his comatose
junior officer. He knew what
Scarlet had been going through lately – the personal pain he had suffered only a
few weeks ago and that he had yet to recover from.
It was a pain that White could certainly relate too, as he had
experienced it himself, years ago. "Yes,” he
said in a murmur. “I think I know what is wrong with him. Rhapsody." Fawn sighed
deeply again, this time with frustration. "You know what he's been like these past weeks, since – the
accident. How he's been
throwing himself without care in his work, no matter how dangerous each mission
might be. He barely stopped to
allow himself a moment of rest – barely slept.
Nothing was important anymore, except doing his job.” “Yes, I
know how it is,” White mumbled. “Captain
Blue told me he has became terribly moody,” Fawn continued. “Keeping to himself, not wanting to do
anything with anyone." "Except his
daughter, I should think." "Well, apparently, he has been shutting her out
as well, lately." Fawn looked down
at his patient. "Remember how I
told you years ago that I believed that Scarlet's will was playing a huge part
in his powers? How it was probably
the trigger that freed him from the Mysterons’ control, when they inadvertently
copied it as he was struggling to survive that car accident?” "Yes…"
White said pensively. "It's like
he has lost it, Charles. Like he
lost the will to fight and live – at the same time he lost Rhapsody." The mere
suggestion made White frown deeply.
"I can't believe he would give up like that!" he snapped in protest. "No?” Fawn
raised a brow, staring at the Spectrum commander. “Think about it for a minute.
How did you feel when you lost your wife, all those long years ago?
How did you react?" "I…" White hesitated. Breaking eye contact with Fawn, he looked down at the younger
man, laid on the bed. He remembered all too well what had happened, so many
years ago. He sighed. "I lost myself," he confessed, almost
reluctantly. Inside my work, he added inwardly. And at the bottom of a
bottle of alcohol.
Something Scarlet cannot even find solace in, since his Mysteronisation,
considering alcohol barely has any effect on him. But there
was a major difference between himself and Scarlet, he suddenly remembered.
Something that could certainly help him recover. "What about
his daughter?" White asked of Doctor Fawn. There was a
shadow of sadness passing in the doctor's eyes. "The poor kid…" he murmured. "There was no way to hide her father's condition from her.
She knew. Just like she knew what happened to
Rhapsody weeks ago. You know I have been doubtful of that ‘link’ that her
parents often claimed she had with her father. But now, I have to accept that
she indeed might have a connection with him.
She probably had one with her mother as well... either it became more evident in
that last moment of distress or it only came to the surface then. We will never
know now.” "Did she
come to see her father?" White continued. "No. Since her mother’s passing, she’s
keeping her emotions bottled up inside.
But it’s worse now, with this. She won’t talk to anyone. Captain Blue and the others tried to temporarily take her
mind off of all this mess, by throwing an impromptu Christmas party – fully
expecting that Scarlet would be up and about to give her a surprise visit in the
middle of it. That would have been
a wonderful Christmas gift, considering the situation. But obviously, it didn't happen. So she
locked herself in the family quarters and won't open the door to anyone." "What?" White said with a furrowed brow.
"When was that?" "Hours ago… people are attempting to get to her, but... she won't listen. Guess she's as stubborn as her dad…" “She
certainly is,” White mumbled. He
stroked his chin, pensively. Then
he was struck by a sudden decision. There was
something to be done, and he fell for certain he was the man to do it. “Keep an
eye on Scarlet," he requested of Fawn.
"I shan't be long." He
turned on his heels to leave the room. "And where
are you going?" Fawn called after him. "To talk to
Rose. We might still be able to
give her that Christmas gift – and to her father too."
"Rose… Please, honey, open this door." Captain
Blue knew his wife was pleading ineffectively to the closed door. For what seemed like hours now, they had
not heard a single sound from the child on the other side. It was like they were literally talking
to a wall; she would not listen at all. "Forget it,
Karen," he said to Symphony Angel as she was preparing to call again.
"It's useless to call on the kid's good sense to open the damned door.
We'll have to open it ourselves."
He restrained a frustrated sigh.
If only Rose had not changed the access code to the lock! He knew the previous code, but the
child, way too smart for her age – and his own taste – had cleverly altered it
to introduce another code of her own.
An unknown and obviously complicated one, that neither he, Symphony or Ochre had
been able to crack so far.
I wish Patrick was here, instead of at the Paris H.Q. with Juliette, Blue told himself with irritation.
Or that Seymour had not been called away on family business in Trinidad. Both men would have found the access code and opened the
door in the blink of an eye. "What do
you propose, Blue?" Captain Ochre,
leaning against the wall next to the door demanded. "The only way we can enter those
quarters would be to blow the lock, or to use a torch against the door. We can’t very well do that!” "Rose,
that’s enough!" Symphony called
again, this time with anger in her tone.
"Open this door, right now!
You can't stay in there forever!" "Wanna
bet?" Ochre muttered with a frown. "We
can't
leave her alone in there," Symphony interjected, turning to him. "It's not good for her to dwell on all
these bad things that have happened, on her own." "I agree,"
Blue added quickly.
"While Paul is recuperating in sickbay, we have to take care of his
daughter." Ochre
rolled his eyes. "It sure was a
mistake trying to cheer her up with that Christmas party," he said in an
undertone. "I feel responsible,
guys. It was my idea, after all." "It wasn't
your fault, Rick. How were we to know she would react that badly?" "Rose!" Symphony's tone was now more insistent. "This is the last time I'll ask: open this door or we'll have it blown
open!" Ochre
scowled. “Oh, that’s brilliant,
scare the kid." “You have a
better idea, Fraser?” Symphony snapped impatiently. “We can
wait for her to get hungry?” “NOT very
helpful!” Symphony replied, turning
again to the door. “Rose! Open the
door, or else!!!” “Or else
what?” Ochre murmured. “I’m
getting a headache,” Blue murmured.
“This is going to be a LONG night…” The three
of them were all too busy arguing and too preoccupied with trying to find a
solution to their problem that they didn’t notice Colonel White emerging from a
nearby lift and walking briskly their way, an expression of grim determination
set on his face. Ochre and Blue
only noticed him when he reached them; without stopping, he passed them by and
went straight to the door; Symphony discovered him right next to her, and she
made way, just as he firmly brushed her aside with one hand. The second later, he was banging loudly
on the door. “Rose!” he
roared with his most commanding voice, making the three officers surrounding him
grimace and struggle not to cover their ears. “You will open this door, RIGHT NOW!” It was an
awkward silence that followed, during which the three officers wondered if Rose
would dare disobey; they knew they would not – when White took that tone
of voice, nobody in his/her right mind would dare challenge him – knowing that
there would be hell to pay if they tried. A buzzing
sound was heard and a light on the control panel turned from red to green,
indicating that the electromagnetic lock had been disabled. White pushed the opening button and the
door slid open in front of him.
There was no Rose in sight, so he stepped into the room.
The door
slid closed and the three officers standing in front looked at each other,
thoughtfully. “Poor kid,” Blue said
looking once more at the closed door.
“She’s been through a lot lately.
Let’s hope the colonel will be able to calm her down.” “Should we
have followed?” Symphony mused. Ochre scoffed.
“No way! The old man seems
in a fine mood. I don’t want to put
myself between him and Rose at the moment.” “There’s
no need for us to be involved,” Blue replied waving away Ochre’s comment. “If anyone is able to talk to Rose, it’s
certainly the colonel.” “Her ‘Uncle
Charlie’,” Symphony said with a faint smile. “Shhh…” Ochre told her. “I wouldn’t call him that, even with a closed door
between us. If ever he should
hear…” “I hope
Paul wakes up soon,” Blue murmured.
“And that he’ll be all right.
Rose certainly needs her father at the moment and…” He let the rest of the sentence hanging. Symphony patted his arm gently. “Admit it,
you’re worried about him,” she finished for him. Blue nodded
sadly. “He’s never had such a long
healing period, Karen. Don’t you
think there is cause for concern?” “I know,”
she answered. “And you’re not the
only one to worry, Adam. But if I
know Paul, he’ll be on his feet soon.
And we’ll all have worried for nothing.”
She offered a reassuring smile.
“Come on. Let’s go see him, and ask
Doctor Fawn how things are going with him.” “Good
idea,” Blue said with a thankful expression in his eyes. “It’s Christmas Eve and somehow, it
doesn’t feel fair to leave him all by himself.
Especially this Christmas Eve.” “I’m in
too,” Ochre volunteered. “If you
will have an old bachelor accompanying you, that is.” “Of course, Rick,” Symphony said taking him under
the arm. “You’re a friend, after
all. Almost like part of the family.” “You mean,
‘the black sheep of the family’, if I understand correctly,” Ochre remarked
mockingly. “I would have thought
you’d have attached that epithet to Pat, mind you…”
He grinned, as they started walking to leave the quarters area, and
direct their steps towards the nearest lift.
“I’m buying you a coffee in sickbay.
I have a feeling we will need it, if this is going to be the long night I
think it’ll be.” “I’ll
accept the coffee,” Symphony answered.
“If only to avoid Adam proposing to make some… In all these years, he’s never learned to do a decent
coffee.”
Colonel White took a few steps inside the
quarters. The lights were down at
about thirty percent, with a soft blue hue.
There wasn’t any movement, and at first, he thought there was only
silence; it took his ear a few seconds to finally pick up the faint and sad
Christmas music coming from the radio.
There was no Christmas tree in the living area, at the place the colonel
knew there should always be one this time of year. No decorations were adorning the walls either. The place was incredibly tidy,
considering a child lived there – Rose would always leave a few toys lying
around, despite her parents’ frequent reminders that she should put them away,
in the toy box in her room.
Of course, none of this really surprised White, considering the recent events. There was still no sign of Rose. “Rose?” he called with an even, but insistent
tone. She couldn’t be that far, he
thought. Perhaps her room… As he turned to go to the child’s little room, he
heard a small voice coming from the other side of the quarters, behind the
half-wall that separated the living area from the sleeping area that had been
Scarlet’s and Rhapsody’s. “They lied to me, Uncle Charlie.” Colonel White stopped in his tracks and turned
round. Normally, he would take
umbrage at Rose calling him ‘Uncle Charlie’.
Lord knew how many times he had tried to convince the child not to
use that name when addressing him, especially in front of others, as he
felt it greatly undermined his authority.
But the name would come out every so often, however hard Rose tried not
to use it. But right now, it all
seemed like such a trivial detail.
The distress he could hear in this small voice was that of someone literally
heart-broken. Little eight-year-old Rose Metcalfe was seated in
the darkest part of her parents’ sleeping area, on the bed, her legs crossed
like an Indian, and holding in her arms a beaten, not-so white Teddy Bear,
wearing a Christmas hat. He
remembered that bear – it was a gift her mother had given her on her first
Christmas. At the time, it was far bigger than she
was.
“Who lied to you, Rose?” White stepped into the sleeping area and
approached the child. He saw her
shrug, almost indifferently. “My parents,” she said in a faint, very sad tone.
“They promised they will always be with me.
Now, Mummy is gone, and Daddy…” Her
voice broke off. “Daddy is in a bad way…” White stopped right next to the bed and looked
down to her; she didn’t raise her eyes to meet his. He nodded his understanding.
He carefully sat down by the side of the bed, next to Rose. Even then, she didn’t look up; she had
her back half-turned to him. “Yes, I can see that it might sound like a
careless thing to say,” White remarked casually. He glanced at her, but she had barely moved; he could not see
her eyes, only her lowered eyelids,
which were surprisingly dry, considering the circumstances. “Mummy is gone,” Rose repeated with insistence.
“She did not come back. She can’t do that.
Isn’t that true, Uncle Charles?” White had to fight not to shudder at the thought.
For Rhapsody to ‘have come back’ after that terrible plane accident, those few
weeks ago, would have meant the dreadful prospect
of her being taken over by the Mysterons.
A fate Spectrum officers considered worse than death. And that would certainly have been awful
for both Scarlet and Rose – even worse for Rose, actually. Fortunately, it had not been the case. “No, child, she could not,” he admitted quietly.
“Not like your father can. I’m
sorry.” “Daddy is not getting better,” Rose said, almost
unemotionally. “He was hurt badly. Is he going to die too, Uncle Charles? Is that why you’re here?” “Ah, Rose…”
White sighed, shaking his head. The way children can see right through you…
“Your father was hurt badly. But
he’s a fighter, and he will make it.
As he always does. You have to
believe this.” Rose shook
her head, in a doubtful way, distractedly playing with one of her bear’s ears.
“I know he’s not getting better…” she murmured. “Rose,”
White said with insistence, “look at me.”
There was
obvious unwillingness on Rose’s part, for the space of a few seconds. Then she finally turned to the colonel
and dared to look him in the eyes.
He reached one hand to stroke her cheek; he found it very cold, almost icy. “Do you
think I would lie to you?” he asked firmly. There was barely hesitation this time, before
Rose answered with a brief shake of her dark head. “I would
never
lie to you,” White continued.
“I never did. And neither did your
parents.” “But Mummy
and Daddy…” “Will
always
be by your side, no matter what happens.
Your mother – will always be there.
In here.” White’s
hand gently touched the girl’s temple, before lowering to press the little
heart; he could feel it beating wildly in her chest.
“And in here,” he continued solemnly, his voice dropping an octave. “As long as you live, as long as the
memories of her live in you, she will always be with you. As she will always be by your side, watching over you
– even if you don’t see her. She
will never
leave you.” He saw
tears starting to moisten Rose’s eyelids; forgetting about her bear, she reached
for his arms, and he brought her to his heart. She burst into tears, hiding her
face against his shoulder, and dampening his uniform. White patted her back and shushed her in
a comforting way. Rose loved
all of her surrogate uncles and aunts aboard Cloudbase, but in her heart, there
was a special place for her Uncle Charles.
It was not that he was overly expressive of his emotions with her. Colonel White was always very careful to
keep a restrained countenance, even in private; those occasions when he did
actually overtly show his affection for the little child were so very rare, that
it made them all the more precious, both for him and for her. The tears
subsided slowly, and White heard them transforming into sniffing sounds. Here's another uniform to go to dry
cleaning, he told himself. Not that he really cared that much. “You
think Mummy is a real angel now?” A muffled voice asked him. White
permitted himself a faint smile. The thought certainly had an appealing ring to
it. "Child, if anyone in her life
has won the right to wear those wings – then it's certainly your
mother...” "How about
Daddy?" Rose pushed herself away
from his shoulder and looked straight at him. Her eyes were red, and still very moist from her recent
tears. "How come he's not all right already?
Why doesn't he get better?" White slowly nodded, carefully weighing what
he was going to tell her now. "At the moment," he explained with a calm voice,
"your father feels a lot like you do yourself. He’s feeling lonely and abandoned – like
nothing matters any more for him." "Is that
why he's been behaving badly lately?" Rose asked. "He’s been shouting a lot – he shouted
at me, just before leaving, a few days ago.” “That’s the
last time you saw him?” White inquired. Rose
nodded, sniffling loudly. “I
thought he was angry with me." White shook
his head. "No, Rose. He wasn’t angry with you. He was angry
with himself. You see, he’s been feeling bad, and hurt, because he was there
when you mother – passed away. He
couldn't do anything to protect her, and he feels guilty. He misses your mother very much.
More than you probably imagine.
So, he forgot himself in his pain, in his guilt. He doesn't quite know what to do. I’m
sure he really didn't mean to shout at you."
He gave her an inquiring frown.
"You know how it is, I'm sure…
I've been told – you have
'behaved badly' yourself lately?" "Yes," Rose
murmured. “I’ve shouted at him too.
And at others. A lot. And I've been
very stroppy. Because I was sad." "That's
exactly the same for him, child." "But… why
doesn't he wake up now?" Rose
insisted. "He will be okay soon,
won't he, Uncle Charles?" "Oh yes… I
believe he will be.
Eventually. But he would
probably wake up sooner, if he is reminded that there is someone else whom he
cares very much about – and who cares a lot about him – who is worried and is
waiting for him." "Me?" Rose said with a little voice. "Yes, Rose.
Your father desperately needs you right now.
As much as you need him yourself."
White let the rest hang and watched carefully, as Rose weighed his words. Seconds passed, and then he saw her nodding slowly, in a
thoughtful way. “Can I go
see him?” she asked timidly. “Of course,
you can,” White answered with an encouraging tone. The little girl jumped down from his
knees and he stretched out to get to his feet. He watched as she picked up her white bear into her small arms,
before turning to raise an inquiring look at him. He extended his hand, which she took in her tiny one. “Come on,” he said quietly. “I’ll go with you.”
“Come on, Paul, this nap of yours has lasted long
enough. It’s time for you to wake
up, buddy.” Gathered around the bed on which Captain Scarlet
lay unconscious, Captain Blue, Captain Ochre and Symphony Angel, who was seated
on the only chair in the room, were waiting impatiently. Standing back from them, Doctor Fawn was
studying the information he could read on the electronic instruments – for the
nth time, it seemed to him. He
couldn’t see any change in his patient’s condition. “He’s so quiet,” Symphony said in a murmur, in
answer to her husband’s harangue to their best friend. “I don’t remember ever seeing him this
way.” She studied the set face,
whose cheeks and chin were scruffy with a two or three day old beard. Scarlet appeared so totally calm and
relaxed; there wasn’t a single twitch on this face, not a movement under the
eyelids. The eyes were marked with deep, dark lines, making his face appear
thinner than it really was. If not
for the bleeping coming from the electronic panel above his head, the regular
sound of the respirator connected to his nose and the steady rise and fall of
his chest, she would have feared he was gone.
Gone to be with his lost love… She clutched his limp hand in hers, warmly. “Edward, isn’t there anything you can
do?” she asked turning to Fawn. He raised an eyebrow, putting away his notepad.
“What more can I do, Karen?” he
asked gesturing toward the instruments surrounding Scarlet.
“He’s alive… he’s nearly healed, in fact… but he won’t wake up. The rest… is up
to him.” “And what can we do?” Blue asked in turn. “You’re already doing a lot. By being here, and talking to him, maybe
it will eventually draw him out of this state.” “I sure hope so, Doctor,” Ochre then said,
looking down with concern at their fallen friend. “And I also hope that Scarlet is not being his usual,
obstinate self, by not listening to us.
I never knew anyone as headstrong as he is.” “Well then,” Fawn smiled faintly, “maybe that
stubbornness will pull him through.
As always.” Ochre reached for Scarlet’s shoulder and squeezed
him tight. “Come on, big guy,” he muttered with a gruff voice. “You’ve wasted enough of our time,
worrying us like this. Wake up
already.” “Why, Mr. Fraser,” Symphony remarked with a fond
smile, “you do care about him.” “Of course I do,” grumbled Ochre. “He’s a friend, and I don’t have that
many friends that I can afford to lose another one.
Beside, it’s more fun to actually play pranks on him than your husband. The reaction’s not the same.” The door behind them opened at that moment and
they stopped chatting to turn around.
They saw Colonel White enter, gently pushing Rose in front of him; the
little girl was tightly hugging her white Christmas bear against her heart, and
was looking at the gathering with wariness.
She didn’t seem quite sure what to do now. That was until her eyes discovered her father, lying still on
the bed; then she watched only him, as she slowly approached, followed by the
colonel. Symphony rose from her seat, and White helped
Rose to climb onto it and stand on it.
He looked around at his assembled officers; a murmur and a gesture were
enough for them to understand that they should give the child some privacy.
Silently, they left, but not before Symphony had kissed Rose’s forehead and Blue
had gently brushed her shoulder.
She barely took any notice of them, and even less of the door closing on them,
as her eyes were set on the face of her sleeping father. “Daddy?” she murmured cagily. “Daddy, it’s me, Rosie… Can you hear me?” Carefully, Colonel White took a few steps back,
and came to stand next to Fawn. The two men exchanged an apprehensive glance;
both were sharing the same concern:
would Rose be able to reach her father and bring him out of this state? They were hopeful, and yet… it didn’t seem like the child’s initial
appeal had worked. “Daddy!”
Rose’s voice was shaky with concern now, as she put a hand on her
father’s shoulder and shook him – vigorously enough, obviously attempting to
attract his attention. Fawn stepped
forward, as if he had the intention of stopping her, but White extended his arm
in front of him and prevented him from approaching the child. He motioned him to wait. “Daddy, wake up already!” Rose urged, “Don’t leave me… Come on,
wake up… I need you, Daddy… I miss you; I want you to wake up.” Her voice quivering, and the tears
slowly starting to come to her eyes, Rose scrambled on the narrow bed, and
somehow found a way to kneel beside Scarlet.
She shook his shoulder again, looking into his set face. “I love you,
Daddy…” There was a whistling sound, coming from the
panel overhead, and Fawn raised his eyes to it, expectantly. He saw the vital signs change, and he approached
to get a better reading. He heard
the sounds from the panel make a slight change – a change that, with his long
years of experience, he had no trouble interpreting. A faint moan came from Scarlet. Rose watched him
hopefully; she first saw his chest rise higher, as he took a deeper breath, and
a frown appeared on his brow. He
grunted again, then his eyelids fluttered.
The deep blue of his eyes appeared, at first staring tiredly at the high
ceiling of the room, beyond the young child who was now looking down at him with
tears of joy freely rolling down her cheeks. “Daddy,” she called in a strangled whisper. “You’re awake…” Scarlet blinked several times, as if registering
the sound of her voice; he turned his head and discovered her, leaning over him.
He produced a faint, but genuine smile.
“Rose…” he croaked, his voice very faint.
He feebly raised his hand to brush away the tears on his daughter’s cheek. She burst out and stroked his hand, before throwing herself
against him. He held her close
against his heart with both arms, heaving a deep breath. “Don’t ever leave me, Daddy,” she said, her voice
muffled against his chest. “I won’t, sweetie,” he slurred. “Never…
I swear it.” From a distance, Doctor Fawn and Colonel White
were watching the scene, deep relief now obvious on their faces. Feeling suddenly awkward to just be
standing there, they both moved toward the door.
Their presence wasn’t required anymore, and they felt that father and
daughter would need some time alone now. Fawn stepped out first, and White followed, his
attention still taken by what was going on in the room, as he was slowly closing
the door behind him. Scarlet was
still holding his daughter against him, stoking her dark hair, comfortingly.
The white bear was lying across his legs, all but forgotten and abandoned by the
little girl whose interest was now totally devoted to her father. “I miss her, Daddy,” Rose said in a timid voice,
barely audible in the distance. Scarlet squeezed her closer to him, in a bear
hug, at the risk of choking her.
There was a sob in his voice, and pain obvious on his face, as he answered to
his daughter’s comments. “I miss her too, my little Angel…” Leaving them to their privacy, Colonel White
silently closed the door. He turned
around to face the satisfied grin that was threatening to crack Fawn’s face in
two. “Well done, Charles,” the physician said. “That was an inspired gesture. You performed a miracle.” “I did nothing of the sort,” White replied. He looked towards the close door. “Rose
did it all.” “Yes. She did, indeed. Scarlet only needed this incentive, it would seem. He should be all right, now.” “I believe he will be, yes,” White answered
absently. “Come on, Colonel,” Fawn invited him. “I need some coffee, and I’ll bet you
could do with one as well. I
believe the others have gone to the canteen.
Let’s go tell them the good news.” White nodded absently, barely listening to him,
as he was still looking very pensive, staring at the closed door. He turned around and prepared to follow
Doctor Fawn whom he could see walking down the corridor towards the mess. His eyes rose and he glanced at the
clock set on the wall in front of him.
It was just past midnight.
Christmas day. If it was a miracle, then it was another
Christmas miracle, he told
himself. Colonel White’s eyes lowered, and fell on the
small Christmas table tree, set on the reception desk, blinking with bright
white lights and stylish red and silver decorations. The top of the tree was adorned with a beautiful, rather
rustic angel figure, dressed in a silvery white tunic, and complete with halo
and wings. In White’s inner eye, the image of an attractive
young red-haired woman, clad in an immaculate white uniform superposed itself on
the figure, and almost despite himself, a faint and rare smile started to tug at
the colonel’s lips. Rose’s earlier comments about her mother came back to him,
and he addressed an appreciative nod at the Angel on the treetop, who seemed to
stare right at him, with what almost seemed like a knowing glance. “Happy Christmas, Rhapsody Angel,” he murmured,
and then he walked down the corridor, to follow Doctor Fawn to the mess.
OTHER STORIES FROM CHRIS BISHOP Any comments? Send an E-MAIL to the SPECTRUM HEADQUARTERS site
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