A “Captain Scarlet” Short Story for Christmas

By Caroline Smith

Richard Fraser, Spectrum codename Captain Ochre, was furious. He hobbled into the Control Room with a dark look upon his normally good-humoured features and stormed up to Colonel White at the control console. He raged at his superior without even saluting or acknowledging him first.

“What’s this I hear about you going to send Magenta or Blue out to South Dakota for Lieutenant Jade’s funeral? I can’t believe you’re going to do this!”

White heard Lieutenant Green’s audible intake of breath at Ochre’s outburst and when he flicked his eyes over to the young black man, he saw him hastily pretend to be very occupied with a panel to his left.

“Lieutenant Green, I think I’ll have that coffee you said you’d get me earlier.”

Green was surprised; the colonel could have used his private office to speak to Ochre, but maybe…

“Now would be a good time…” White looked at him with that stare.

“Yes sir, of course, right away.” He got up from his chair and exited the room, almost guiltily disappointed that he wouldn’t be privy to their conversation, He had never seen Ochre so mad, normally he was so laid back as to be horizontal.

White was well used to Ochre’s somewhat unorthodox ways relating to discipline and military etiquette but he was still taken aback by his officer’s almost violent display of emotion.

“Captain Ochre, I was merely thinking about your injuries, Dr Fawn thinks you should still be confined to quarters for a few more days yet.”

“I don’t give a damn about my injuries. I’ve got to be the one to be there. It’s the least I owe Lieutenant Jade. Otherwise it just looks like I’m a damn coward!” The American’s eyes were blazing and White tried to recall the last time he had seen him quite so agitated before.

“I hardly think that, Captain,” White said tersely. “I think you’ve proved quite the opposite in your career before and with Spectrum.” He frowned to himself. What had got into the man? he thought. Perhaps this last operation and the last few months had finally taken its toll on him, just as it had with many of the younger officers and personnel.

“Captain, please sit down,” he said, trying to placate him. “Very well, against my better judgement I’ll allow you to go. But I insist on Captain Magenta accompanying you. After all you can hardly drive there in your current state.”

Ochre looked at the floor, and was obviously trying to marshal some inner state of composure. When he spoke again it was in a calmer voice. “Thank you sir, I appreciate it. And I’m sorry for barging in here like that.”

“It’s all right, Captain,” White said in an equally calm tone. “I understand the events of the past week or so haven’t been easy for you. I’ll speak with Doctor Fawn and clear you to go.”

Ochre saluted. “Thank you, sir.”

After Ochre had departed, thankfully rather more placidly than he came in, Colonel White looked thoughtfully out of the observation window in the Control Room. Christmas was almost upon them, not a good time for funerals. Spectrum had fought yet another year of relentless battles with the merciless and intangible foe known to them only as the Mysterons. And the last few months had been some of the hardest they had known since encountering the strange race. Everyone had been working around the clock and doubling, sometimes trebling, up on duty shifts to combat the threats that seemed to come one after the other. Most of the Cloudbase personnel were exhausted and most especially the senior staff.

Throughout it all the members of Spectrum had miraculously led charmed lives. Apart from Captain Scarlet, who most fortunately possessed the mysterious power of retrometabolism, no-one had been killed. That is, up to now. Captain Ochre had been the field commander on the last mission and paired with Lieutenant Jade, a young Oglala Sioux. The Mysterons had threatened to destroy a massive dam and irrigation project located in South America that supplied water to several key maize and wheat producing regions. Destruction would have caused devastating crop failures for the following year. Although they succeeded in averting destruction of the dam there had been a price to pay. Ochre and several ground agents were badly wounded and Lieutenant Jade was killed.

Of course there was a formal investigation. It was Spectrum standard procedure whenever agents were killed in the field. At Colonel White’s request it was held at Cloudbase rather than Spectrum Intelligence HQ in London as Ochre’s presence was required at the investigation and he was still too injured to travel.

Ochre was exonerated of all blame for the death of Lieutenant Jade and the verdict on her demise for the records was stated as death by misadventure in the line of duty.

Ochre and Magenta made their way to South Dakota. They picked up a Spectrum saloon car at the airport and made their way to the reservation where the burial of the young Lieutenant was to take place.

Magenta noted sourly that his partner remained tight-lipped as they drove along the winding road. Ochre hadn’t uttered more than a couple of grunted sentences in the SPJ either. They were both wearing their dress uniforms for the funeral and for once Ochre didn’t complain about it. That in itself was unusual, thought Magenta. He shook his head as he concentrated on the road and the stark beauty of the landscape. He had never been out this way before. It seemed a million miles away from the buzz of New York.

Ochre, too, regarded the surroundings as the car sped along. He remembered that Lieutenant Jade, whose name was Wenonah Red Wind, had called it the Paha Sapa, the Sioux nation’s name for the Black Hills. She had spoken wistfully of her home, saying that despite the problems her people still faced on the reservation, their sacred land still held its magnetic beauty. He had smiled at her descriptions of the place, of the multicoloured pillars and rocks of the Badlands to the pristine forests, rivers and lakes of the Black Hills. He had made up his mind that he would have to visit one day and see it for himself. He never imagined he would be here under such tragic circumstances. He clenched his eyes shut for a brief second, trying to shut out the memory of her face. The official verdict had done little to assuage Ochre’s feelings of guilt at her death. It was starting to eat away at him, and he was experiencing black moods on an almost daily basis and finding sleep difficult as he kept replaying the awful memory of the mission in his head.

“You’re so quiet it’s worrying me,” Magenta’s voice broke into his thoughts. He didn’t like the look of Ochre. He seemed brittle and tired, and it wasn’t just due to his injuries either, he suspected.

Ochre stared ahead, his face drawn. “She was twenty-one years old, for God’s sake. She had her whole life ahead of her, and I blew it.”

Magenta had never heard such bitterness in Ochre’s voice. “From what I heard, officially you weren’t to blame.”

His partner laughed to match the tone in his voice. “Officially, yeah that’s good. That makes it all okay.”

“Are you going to be all right with this?”

Ochre turned and said harshly, “Just don’t start, I’ve already made it clear I want to be here. But let’s not talk about it any more.”

Magenta shrugged, shut up and kept on driving.

They arrived at the reservation almost as the burial ceremony was about to commence. Many of the Oglala Sioux present were wearing ceremonial dress and presented a colourful if solemn sight. Magenta presented both of them as the representatives of Spectrum.

“Please, you are expected. Come this way,” said a young member of the family and he showed them to their places near the graveside. “We are pleased that you’ve come to honour our kinswoman.”

They both thanked him and waited with the other mourners for the ceremony to begin. As it progressed a raw wind blew up out of nowhere. Its icy chill seemed to penetrate more than just Ochre’s regulation overcoat.

He cast his mind back to when he first met her as a cadet at Koala Base. He was running a series of training lectures on Spectrum tactical operations. She was only eighteen at the time; far too young and vibrant to be prepared to go into war he had thought. But over the five days of the course she had thoroughly impressed him with her knowledge and enthusiasm and he grudgingly admitted to himself that she would make fine officer material. He had followed her career and was delighted when she had achieved the rank of lieutenant in a fraction of the time it usually took.

And now she was dead.

As he watched Wenonah’s body being laid to rest, accompanied by the chant of the lone singer and the hypnotic beat of the traditional drum, he felt a cold chill seep through his body. He could sense Magenta’s eyes on him but he stared straight ahead. He just hoped he could keep it together until it was over.

After the ceremony was concluded, they offered their condolences to Wenonah’s family. Her father, a silver haired man in his fifties, nodded to them in acknowledgement. “We are glad that Spectrum sent their good men to honour her. Wenonah made us very proud. And we know that she died doing what she did best. She was a true warrior and she will now take her place with the Great Spirit, and for that we must all feel rejoicing, not sadness.”

Magenta quickly realised that Ochre’s normally tanned face had turned ashen and he was having difficulty saying anything in reply, he spoke for the two of them.

“Thank you too, sir, for making us feel so welcome. Wenonah was indeed a fine officer and we in Spectrum will miss her, not only for her courage and abilities as an agent, but for her personal attributes. She was a credit to you and to her people. We are saddened by her loss, as you are.”

The man gave them a tired smile. “Thank you for those kind words. May the Great Spirit go with you in your fight against the evil ones.”

Ochre mentally thanked Magenta for his speech, it was far better than he could have managed. They took leave of the family to make their way back to Cloudbase.

When they returned to the base Magenta was due on a duty shift. But he was concerned for Ochre, who had still been silent and gloomy throughout the return journey. Magenta didn’t try to force him to talk again, but he hoped that the funeral would provide closure for his friend. “I’m due in the radar room in thirty minutes. Are you going to be okay?”

Ochre shrugged. “Sure, I’ll maybe get something to eat.”

He wandered along to the canteen. It was fairly quiet at this time in the evening just after the main supper rush. He scanned the self-service units and idly threw a few things onto his tray and went to sit down on one of the far corners of the room. He pulled open the wrappings, suddenly not feeling that hungry.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He turned at the cultured voice.

“Dianne.” She was the last person he wanted to see. “I’m not really in the mood for chatting.”

She frowned imperceptibly. “Well, I’ll just sit here anyway, you know I hate being on my own, and there’s no one else around, at least that I want to talk to.”

He didn’t reply to her but kept his eyes down and stuck his fork into the salad. Food seemed to have lost its pleasure, along with so many other things recently. Rhapsody said nothing but watched him, her eyes flooding with concern at his manner.

“Rick, are you all right? Have I done anything to offend you?”

“I’m fine,” he answered brusquely still not looking at her. “I did say I wasn’t in the mood to talk.”

Rhapsody fell silent, hurt at his tone.

Why don’t you go away, woman. Don’t you realise you’re part of the problem?

That you chose Paul instead of me.

Ochre was an expert in reading the minutiae of people’s body language and expressions and he was pretty certain that Rhapsody and Captain Scarlet had become involved with one another in the past couple of months. He had never really forgotten his feelings for the copper-haired Angel, just buried them deep and hoped that one day they might revisit their brief but passionate affair and make it more permanent, when she was ready. But now, he had missed the boat somehow…he was sure of it.

He sat there, trying to ignore her and hating the way he felt. Everything just seemed to be falling apart. Dianne, the mission, Wenonah. He didn’t feel any better after the funeral. If anything he felt worse. He stood up abruptly, banging into the table and almost knocking his glass over Rhapsody. She jumped back in her chair to avoid the liquid spilling on her lap.

“Sorry, I need to go.” He waved his hand to stop her getting up. Slightly shaken, she lowered herself back down in her seat and watched him leave, biting her lip in frustration.

Ochre made his way along the corridor, waved his badge at the elevator to take him to the next level, and collided with Destiny who was just coming out as the door slid open.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, woman!” he snapped at her as he brushed past her to get into the elevator.

“Vraiment!” snapped back an equally shocked and annoyed Frenchwoman. “Where are your manners, Monsieur Fraser?”

But she received no reply as the doors shut and she was left shaking her head. She had never seen him act so rudely before in all the time she had known him.

Ochre sat by his usual table in the Officers’ Lounge, the one nearest the air-conditioning vent. The other captains insisted that if he was going to make his models in their airspace he had to park himself where it would have the least effect on them. At the moment he sat staring sullenly at his partially completed model. He had several pieces on the table and it was a particularly tricky section he was dealing with.

Grey was reading and Magenta was tapping away on his palm-pc, but they were suddenly interrupted from their activities when they heard an explosive “Damn!” and Ochre then threw some of the pieces angrily onto the table.

“What’s up, Rick?” Grey looked around, a little surprised at the unusually gloomy look on Ochre’s face.

“I just can’t concentrate.” Then he suddenly slapped his hand down and smashed the model into the table. “Forget it,” he snapped almost to no one in particular. Then he got up without another word and limped out of the lounge, leaving an astonished Grey and Magenta to stare after him.

“What was that I just saw?” Grey said.

“You saw,” replied Magenta with a deep frown on his face, “someone who is just not dealing too well with life at the moment.”

“Maybe someone should follow him and see what he’s up to.”

“Yeah, that’ll be me,” said Magenta. He clapped a hand on Grey’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll sort him out.”

Magenta tried Ochre’s quarters first. He hit the panel on the wall to activate the chime.

“Go away,” came his partner’s disgruntled voice.

“Rick, it’s Pat. Let me in, buddy, we need to talk.”

“I haven’t got anything to say.”

“Like hell you haven’t. What was that little tantrum in the lounge back there?”

“Hey, it’s my model, I’ll do what I damn well like with it.”

“Come on,” Magenta insisted. “You can’t go on like this, you’ll go nuts.” Then he put his head back, screwing his eyes up, Well, that was a dumb thing to say. He leant his forehead on the door and spoke in a tone he hadn’t used for a long while.

“I won’t go away, so you might as well just let me in.”

A few seconds later the door slid open and he glanced to the side of the room and saw Ochre sprawled on his bed, arms crossed. As Magenta walked towards him and sat down, Ochre glanced at him. His brown eyes, so normally full of mischief, seemed dulled and his whole posture was slumped and dejected, as if the life force had drained out of him.

“What’s wrong, Rick, surely you can tell me?”

“My concentration’s gone AWOL, and I feel I just can’t hack it any more.”

“That’s crap, Rick, and you know it.” Then he saw the look on Ochre’s face and regretted the harshness in his tone. “Look, you’ve been through a lot these last few weeks, hell, we all have, but you’ve also been through tough times before. What’s so different about now?”

“I don’t know, and that’s the problem.”

“Rick, life has to go on, death’s an inevitable part of our jobs.” He paused, not sure if he should go on with what he was about to say. “You heard her father at the funeral, she died as a warrior doing her duty. If it’s enough for them, why isn’t it enough for you?”

Ochre turned angry eyes to Magenta. “You didn’t see the agony on her face when she died. And she died because I made a stupid mistake. And then, God help me, she was Mysteronised! And then I had to kill her again. How would her family have felt if they knew about that?”

Magenta looked sombre. “Rick, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Ochre put his face in his hands. “God! I don’t know how Blue lived with himself when he shot Scarlet. I just can’t seem to forget it; I keep replaying it over and over, trying to figure out how I could have done things differently. It’s eating me up inside, Pat. I’m not sleeping properly; I’ve lost my appetite, I’m treating everyone like dirt and I don’t seem to care. And Christmas is coming up, everyone’s going to try and be happy and jolly and it’s the last thing I need.”

There was silence between them after that. Magenta didn’t know what to say, only that he had never heard his partner talk like this and he wasn’t sure he was the one to pull him out of it. “You must have lost people under your command before, in the Police Corps?”

“Yeah, I have, thanks for reminding me, but not like this,” Ochre said.

Magenta cursed inwardly to himself. He really wasn’t making a good job of this. This sort of thing wasn’t really his forte, he thought. He was more used to getting people to do his bidding by the psychology of fear. Well, that was in the old days. He glanced at his watch.

“Blast, I’ve got a meeting with Seymour in ten minutes.” He looked at Ochre. “You’re not gonna do something stupid, buddy?”

Ochre shook his head slowly and flopped back down on his bed. Magenta decided he would have a word with Doctor Fawn at the earliest opportunity.

As Magenta left his quarters Ochre did wonder why he was having such difficulty dealing with the fallout of the mission.

Maybe I’m just starting to feel my age, and my mortality he mused. When you’re young you feel like nothing can touch you, or anyone else. Then he gave a short bitter laugh as he thought of Colonel White. What his chief must have gone through the last few months and he wasn’t falling to bits, just keeping that stiff upper British lip of his intact as usual, for the rest of them. He felt a wave of self-loathing wash over him. But wish as he might, it didn’t remove the angel of despair that had visited him and seemed unwilling to depart.

Colonel White looked up as he saw Doctor Fawn come into the Control Room.

“Can I have a word in private, Colonel?”

“Certainly.”

White knew that Fawn and his team were as exhausted as the rest of the members of Cloudbase. They had certainly seen their fair share of injured officers pass through the base. Even White, who normally had seemingly endless reserves of energy, and behaved more like a man in his thirties rather than his fifties, was feeling the strain of endless command decisions.

Once they were inside White’s private office and they were both seated, Fawn spoke first.

“I’m worried about Captain Ochre.”

White frowned. “I thought his injuries were healing fine and he was practically on the mend.”

The Australian ran his hands through his dark hair in a weary gesture.

“It’s not his physical injuries I’m worried about.”

“Go on,” White said.

“I had him in for a check up this morning. He was very cagey about answering my questions, and he only answered when I spoke to him. Now I think we both know that’s not the Captain Ochre we both know. Normally you can’t get a word in edgeways for his wisecracks. And this afternoon I’ve had a visit from Magenta, he told me of the chat they had in his quarters. Based on my examination and discussions with him and from the other anecdotal evidence I’m beginning to suspect he’s showing the symptoms of post-traumatic stress. It may well have been triggered by the mission and the death of Lieutenant Jade.”

White shook his head. He recalled the incident in the Control Room. “Hmm, it does sound unlike him. But, I find it hard to believe any of our senior officers would suffer anything like that. All of them, including the Angels, were subjected to numerous tests to identify their ability to cope with major stress and pressure situations before they were hired into Spectrum.”

“Unfortunately, coping with the Mysterons wasn’t included in the job description when we signed up,” Fawn said ironically. “Perhaps there’s something about that eerie lack of humanity in this foe we’re trying to fight that saps our energy after so much time.”

He looked up to see White staring at him, with slightly narrowed eyes. “Sorry, Colonel, just rambling on a bit.” He looked rather sheepish.

“Forget it, Doctor. What do you suggest we do with respect to Captain Ochre’s condition?”

“Well, I’m loath to suggest medication just yet. It would be better if he could deal with it through counselling, via family or friends. I also think it would be a good idea if he got off the base, to try and forget about work for a short spell.”

“Well, family is out of the question, we both know he has none, at least none that we’re aware of.”

“I might hold a briefing with Magenta, Scarlet and Rhapsody Angel, they are probably closest to him. They may be able to suggest something.”

“Well, I hope we get to the bottom of this. Ochre drives me to distraction sometimes, but he’s a fine officer and Spectrum – I – can’t afford to lose him,” White finished.

Ochre’s unusual demeanour happened also to be a subject of discussion in the Amber Room. The Angels were attempting to inject a little cheerfulness into the place by hanging up some Christmas decorations and Rhapsody was poised with one foot on a chair attempting to suspend a long swathe of tinsel across the wall.

“Tell me, ladies, is it just me, or has anyone else noticed Rick’s odd behaviour since he returned from that last mission?”

Destiny was standing beside her, holding the other end of the tinsel and ready to catch Rhapsody in case she overbalanced. She nodded in agreement. “Mais oui, he has been so curt, so cold, it is really not like him. Why, only yesterday he crashed into me without even a word of apology.”

Harmony placed a silver bauble on a branch of the Christmas tree and looked solemnly at her colleagues. “I think he is taking the death of the young lieutenant very hard. ”

Melody was rummaging in the storage crate where they had put all the decorations from last year. She was trying to find the mistletoe; they all needed cheering up this Christmas after all they had been through, and what better way than for everyone to exchange a few hugs and kisses under the green stuff.

She had noted her fellow Angel’s remarks and said dryly, “What that boy needs is a good woman to give him some lovin’ and take his mind off whatever’s going on in that head of his.”

Destiny couldn’t help but look amused. “Perhaps you are willing to take up the challenge, eh, mon amie?”

Melody looked suddenly taken aback at the suggestion. “Hey, I wasn’t suggesting ME. You wouldn’t catch me getting involved with any of the guys on this base. Bad idea.” She happened to catch Rhapsody’s eyes. “Am I right?”

The English girl was caught off guard by her question and found herself stuttering, “Er, yes, absolutely,” and she hoped that she sounded more convincing than she felt she did.

Destiny handed another garland to Rhapsody and tapped her nose. “Well, ma cherie Magnolia, perhaps you were joking a little, but your idea is sound. He does need something to break him out of this unhealthy state of mind.”

There was an interdenominational faith centre on level one, close to the technicians’ quarters. Ochre had never really felt the need to visit it, not being of a particularly religious or spiritual nature. Something moved him to visit there now. As if perhaps by being in a place of faith he could somehow figure out what was going on in his head.

He entered the small room, which was thankfully empty of other people. He sat down on one of the benches, and stared ahead for a few minutes into the muted light, wondering what he expected to experience. A sudden flash of blinding insight perhaps? It didn’t happen. He began to feel a little foolish, he wasn’t someone who felt he needed a higher power to get him through his life, and he had managed just fine on his own steam up to now. But these dark feelings of self-pity and depression were alien to him, and he didn’t know how to escape them, even thought he wanted to, very much. He felt he had to try something so he closed his eyes and said a silent prayer.

Fawn contacted Rhapsody, Magenta and Scarlet and asked if they could meet in sickbay for a short while to discuss Ochre’s situation.

When they arrived, he thanked them for coming. “I think we’ve all been on the receiving end of Captain Ochre’s uncharacteristic behaviour in the last few days. I believe he might be experiencing symptoms of depression. It’s difficult to know what to do in situations like this, but the subject often needs to have a focus outside him or herself in order to distract them away from the central issue. Removal from the everyday surroundings linked with the particular event also helps. I wanted to ask you folks if you could come up with any ideas that might help.”

Rhapsody immediately thought of something. But she was almost loath to suggest it. It might mean that she and Scarlet wouldn’t be spending their precious time together alone. She could hardly believe her luck when she found out their furloughs coincided for a few days before Christmas. But then she felt a stab of remorse. She realised she hadn’t consciously thought about her old feelings for Rick for a long time, so deliriously happy had she been with her love for Paul Metcalfe. But Rick was a friend, and he was obviously in some trouble. If there was something she and Paul could do to help him, however small, she was prepared to sacrifice her own self-interest, although she wasn’t sure how Scarlet would feel about it. Still she felt she had to speak up.

“My mother is president of a charity that supports children’s orphanages in England. There’s one particular place just outside the town of Bath, which I visited myself in December of last year. I was planning to go along again this year and as Captain Scarlet has some time off he kindly offered to accompany me. Perhaps spending some time with children who are in a tough situation might provide the external focus that you suggested. And it means he’s away from Cloudbase, which might also help.”

Fawn scratched his chin. “Hmm, not a bad idea.” He looked at Magenta. “Do you have any thoughts, Captain?”

Magenta shook his head. “I think what Rhapsody suggests is better than anything I can come up with.”

“Well, I think the sooner we do something, the better. If this is okay by the two of you, I suggest you approach Captain Ochre and see if he agrees to go along with you. Of course, in his present mood he might need a bit of persuading - think you can manage it by yourselves?”

Rhapsody nodded. “I’m sure we can.”

After they left sickbay Rhapsody made a signal to Scarlet to wait behind. She wasn’t able to read his expression when she made the suggestion to Fawn and although he hadn’t objected at the time she didn’t want to go back on her duty shift without knowing his feelings about the matter.

“Are you all right with this, Paul? I know we planned to spend the time together, and it’s Christmas, but I felt I couldn’t stay silent on this. Rick needs our help.”

He kept a suitable distance from her, just in case anyone happened to pass by, but he smiled warmly at her. “The same idea was going through my head, and I was just as hesitant, for the same reasons as you, I might add. But you’re right. We can’t just stand by and leave him to deal with this by himself, I’m sure he would do the same for us if the situations were reversed.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you feel that way. I would have hated you to be mad at me.”

He touched her face in a brief gesture of tenderness. “How could I get mad at you? Don’t worry, Angel, we’ll have other times.”

They decided to pose the suggestion to Ochre straight away as he was still in his quarters. It took them a few minutes to persuade him to let them in however.

“Look Rick, Paul and I are planning to go to England for furlough, I’m sort of doing my mother a favour and handing out some Christmas cheer to the children in a local orphanage. We both thought that maybe, if you haven’t got anything planned that you might want to come along with us. We know you’re not feeling too happy at the moment and we’d like to help.”

He shrugged, trying not to meet her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll just get in the way.”

Rhapsody thought, what does he mean by that? Does he suspect something about Paul and me? She pushed the thought to the back of her mind. That wasn’t the most important thing right now.

“Nonsense. We thought that you might like a few days away from the base, to take your mind off things. It’s in a good cause.”

“Trying your amateur psychology on me, Dianne? Nice try, but I really don’t need it, thanks.”

She looked at Scarlet. Well, Fawn did say this wouldn’t be easy. However she decided that she should be honest with Ochre. “Look, I know you might think we’re prying into your affairs, but we’re concerned for you. By we, I mean everyone. All the Angels, all the captains, Dr Fawn and the colonel. You don’t have to deal with this all alone you know. We care about you, for God’s sake.”

“I didn’t realise I was such a source of endless fascination for everyone,” he said ironically.

“I’m not worth caring about, after what happened.”

She stood staring at him, hands on her hips. He glanced up and suspected he was in for a bit of a lecture. “Richard Fraser, just stop feeling so sorry for yourself for just one minute and listen to what I’m saying. You are coming with us and I am not taking no for an answer.”

And so, bulldozed by the pair of them, Ochre found himself on his way to an orphanage in the west of England. As they drove through the pleasant countryside, Ochre’s dejected mood put a damper on any chitchat so they all stayed mostly silent as the miles clocked up. Scarlet was driving and Rhapsody sat with him up front so he gazed out of the back seat window at the landscape. The low weak sun painted the hills and valleys with subtle washes of pale greens, yellows and browns. As he watched the gentle undulating vistas flow by, in spite of his mood he felt an almost soothing tranquillity drifting over him like a soft comforting blanket.

Finally they arrived at the orphanage. It was an imposing building, one of those Victorian piles that seemed to defy the years, obstinately standing firm against time and the elements despite its crumbling exterior. When they alighted from the car, the air was cold and crisp and they saw their breath condense like fairy mist.

They walked up to the large door and Rhapsody rang the bell. They could hear it echoing through the interior of the house. A few minutes later, a woman in her late forties opened it and gave a wide smile when she saw Rhapsody standing there.

“Lady Dianne, it’s a pleasure to see you again. Your mother telephoned to say you would be coming here this afternoon. I do hope she is well.”

“Yes thanks, Mrs Atwell, she’s very well. Trying to get ready for Christmas, of course. Always fun with a family as large as mine.”

“Of course. And who are these handsome young men?” She beamed at Scarlet and Ochre.

“This is Paul Metcalfe and Rick Fraser, both good friends of mine, I hope you don’t mind them coming with me to visit?”

She laughed gaily. “Certainly not, I’m sure the children will be delighted to see all these new faces.”

Scarlet gave a genuine smile to the orphanage supervisor. She was a homely, charming woman. Rhapsody was sure she could see a ghost of one play around Ochre’s lips too and she felt that was a good start.

As they walked into the warm hallway, they could hear the strains of Christmas carols filtering through from the rooms. Mrs Atwell chattered away to them as they followed her.

“Of course, this time of the year is the worst for them, poor dears, having no family at Christmas, it’s possibly the saddest thing I can think of.”

“How many children do you have in the orphanage?” Scarlet asked her.

“Oh there’s about thirty in total here. We’ll be meeting the mid-age children, as I call them, from five to ten. Then we have another group for the eleven to sixteen year olds. Each group have their own sleeping and living areas, although they are free to congregate and mingle at certain times, it’s just easier to keep everything under control if we have some sort of demarcation line. If you remember, Lady Dianne, we were going to visit the five to ten year olds. I hope that’s all right with you?”

“Yes, of course it is,” replied Rhapsody for all of them. “I imagine they are the ones who are still fascinated by the idea of Christmas?”

Mrs Atwell smiled. “Yes indeed, you’re right. Children of that age need a little myth and fantasy in their lives, before it’s taken away by the sometimes harsh reality of puberty and adulthood.”

As they entered the living room about twelve young faces turned away from what they were doing, watching television, reading, painting and other activities. It wasn’t often they received visitors and it was obviously quite a novelty.

Several of the children recognised Rhapsody from her previous visit and rushed up to her. “Lady Dianne!” they exclaimed, with a happy sound in their young voices.

As the children saw the two men behind Rhapsody, it seemed to trigger a general stampede and in a few seconds a maelstrom of young bodies surrounded them.

“Now, now, children!” said Mrs Atwell, flapping her arms and trying to get them to behave and settle down. “Our guests don’t want to be smothered by you!”

“Oh, it’s quite all right,” said Rhapsody, looking across at Scarlet who had a big grin on his face. Ochre’s expression suggested he wasn’t quite sure what to make of this at all.

One of the boys had noticed the large packages the three guests had brought in with them and said in an excited voice, “Have you brought these for us?”

Rhapsody smiled. “ Well, Santa actually asked us if we would drop them off for him as he was going to be terribly busy.”

Some if the older boys looked as if they were about to scoff at the suggestion that Santa even existed when Rhapsody smiled at them and put her finger to her lips in a shushing motion as if to say, don’t spoil it for the younger ones!

Ochre looked around the room. Despite the faded, slightly run-down appearance of the place, it somehow resonated with an aura of warmth and love. It was obvious that Mrs Atwell cared deeply for her young charges. Let’s face it, he thought grimly, it might be more than some kids received from their own flesh and blood in some cases. There were Christmas decorations everywhere, large swathes of tinsel and greenery hung across the walls and from the ceiling. A chubby illuminated Father Christmas stood in one corner, and a huge fir tree in another, covered in shimmering lights and sparkling glass baubles.

Then he noticed a young girl sitting by herself, in the corner of the room away from the others He figured she was probably about nine or ten years old although it was hard to tell. She was slightly built and she hunched slightly as she sat on the chair. The reason he noticed her was because of her eyes. They were a dazzling green, just like Wenonah’s eyes, he remembered absently, and then regretted thinking about that. But those eyes were staring at him, quite intently, as if he was the only person in the room. He thought it rather strange. He suddenly had an inexplicable impulse to go and talk to her.

He asked quietly to Mrs Atwell, “Who’s the young girl over there?”

“Oh, Mr Fraser, it’s most odd. We found her wandering through the entrance to the grounds a few days ago. We couldn’t get a lot of sense out of her. Only her name, it happens to be Rachel. At first we thought she might have been in a car crash. However, she had no injuries that we could see, and Mr Fox the caretaker checked all the roads around the house, but we couldn’t see anything that resembled an accident. We informed the local police to see if they would be able to trace her family. So far we haven’t had any luck.”

“Wasn’t she carrying anything that might identify who she was?” asked Ochre

“No, nothing I’m afraid. It’s possible she’s suffering from amnesia. She insists that she doesn’t have any parents. I contacted the police but since she can’t give us any information they said there’s not very much they can do at the moment. They’ve issued a missing persons photo to display in the local businesses and I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. I had to take the poor wee soul in, it’s nearly Christmas after all.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Ochre said. He looked at the girl, feeling a pang of sympathy for her, when she suddenly got up suddenly got up and wandered over to him.

“Hello, I’m Rachel,” she said.

He was caught off guard, “Oh, hello, I’m Rick. Why are you sitting there all on your own?”

“Oh, I won’t be now, you’ll come and sit with me, won’t you?” and she took his hand as if to drag him off to her chair by the corner.

Ochre frowned to himself and suddenly felt out of his depth. What was he supposed to talk to a ten-year-old girl about, especially one with supposed amnesia? He cast a look at Rhapsody, hoping fervently that she would look up and catch his eye.

As if she read his mind, she did. Help! said the expression on his face.

She silently mouthed back, You’re fine, just talk to her.

He did the same back to her. Some help you are.

He turned back to the girl and he found she was looking at him with amusement in her eyes She had obviously followed the silent interchange between the two adults. He almost forgot to feel sorry for her.

“Well young lady, it seems you have my undivided attention, but I still think we would have more fun if we joined the others. Lady Dianne over there is much more interesting than I am.”

“But she doesn’t look sad, you do.”

“I do?” What an odd thing for her to say, he thought. Then he felt self-conscious. Did he really look so depressed that a kid could pick up on it?

She nodded. “That’s why I need to help you.”

“Help me, what do you mean, exactly?” he said slowly.

“Well, I’m an angel.”

He blinked, not sure that he heard correctly. “Excuse me, what did you just say?”

She squinted at him. “Well, surely you must have heard of angels?”

“Well, yes,” he started hesitantly. Unfortunately Rhapsody’s face was the first image that popped into his head, followed by a picture of the archangel Gabriel in full flight. He shook his head slightly as if to clear the screen. This conversation had taken a rather bizarre turn and he wasn’t sure quite what to say next.

“So, when you’re in trouble they come and help you out,” she said, as if waiting for his reply.

“Well, I’ve been in trouble before and no one came to help me out then,” he replied with the first thing that came into his head.

She frowned, which made the bottom of her nose turn up. “Well, if you’re going to be like that about it, maybe I won’t bother.”

He looked down at her, aware that he had been part of this conversation but totally unsure what to make of it. He wondered if the poor kid had sustained a bang on the head despite what they said about her having no injuries.

“Are you sure you’re all right, Rachel, you haven’t hurt your head or anything like that?”

“No, I’m perfectly fine. And I think you’re making fun of me now.”

He held up his hands. “I swear, I wouldn’t do that.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t a good idea, that I told you, but I do think you look sad and need some help, do you want to talk to me about it?”

He shook his head. “It’s not the sort of thing to discuss with someone your age, sorry.”

She made a rude noise. “I’m quite old enough, I just look young for my age.”

He couldn’t help smiling. “And you’re plenty feisty for your age, that’s for sure.”

She grinned brightly. “I like it when you smile, it’s much better than that gloomy old face you came in with. In fact I’d say you were almost handsome.”

He almost laughed. This strange child was beginning to have an effect on him and he unexpectedly found himself enjoying her company despite their odd exchange.

“Well, you can’t stand and talk to me all day, you’ll have to sit down,” she said loftily and pointed him in the direction of a chair. He shrugged in defeat and pulled a chair over and sat beside her.

He grew serious again. Surely she must remember something about herself?

“Aren’t you in the least worried about yourself? What about your parents, they must be worried sick at any rate?”

“I told everyone, there’s nothing to worry about. I don’t have any parents, ‘cos I’m an angel.”

He sighed, perhaps pushing it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he would have a word with Dianne when he got a chance and see what she thought about it.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me what’s making you so sad, you’ll just have to tell me about yourself.” She peered intently at him again.

He tried to keep the serious look on his face. “But if you’re an angel, surely you know all about me already?”

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