Some Things Must Remain a Mystery - Part Three of Three

Continued

All day Alan had been unable to keep his mind properly on his work because he was replaying over and over in his mind the strange dream he’d had the night before. “There must have been something in that cheese I ate, I suppose,” he eventually decided.

Fortunately, it was Friday and more importantly, the twenty fifth of the month. This was the date when his wages would be credited to his account, and he’d be able to withdraw money from a cash machine. Just a few bleeps punctuated the transaction rather than the blare of klaxons which he had dreaded hearing and more than half expected.

He went shopping on the way home and conscientiously packed away all his purchases before he allowed himself a sly and apprehensive look to see whether the curious ornament was still in his flat.

It was.

It sat in the middle of the table, as bold as brass.

Not where I remember leaving it, Alan thought, but then he hadn’t remembered bringing it home in the first place either.

Alan was not usually of a timorous disposition but the sight of the thing was intimidating for some reason. Vivid dreams were all but unknown to him as his sleep was invariably untroubled, to him at least. Like a sack of heavily sedated knees and elbows was how Diana had described it, unkindly but quite accurately.

After spending an hour or so avoiding its accusing gaze, he went out to get some peace. After another unsettled hour in his local, he gave up and returned. The truth was that hope sprang eternal in Alan’s breast, despite a lifetime of cruel disillusionment. He was determined to risk it one more time. He knew it was foolish but he would attempt to reincarnate the woman who had graced his dream and now haunted his thoughts.

He crossed his fingers and hardly daring to breathe, whispered the name, “Schezebellianthe.”

The mellifluous voice came from behind him. “You summoned me. I am here.”

He turned slowly and regarded his visitor in wonder. She was sitting primly in his rather tatty armchair. Today she was dressed in a modest, blue summer dress but its simplicity could not hide the slender beauty of the woman wearing it. A slight lifting of one eyebrow betrayed that she was mindful of his scrutiny.

Alan reddened and said, “Oh Belle, I thought you were a dream.”

She smiled prettily. “Am I not?”

Alan’s blush spread and in an effort to hide his confusion he blurted out, “I have a wish.”

“Your wish is my command.”

“I wish to be fit and healthy throughout my long life.”

Belle frowned slightly in disapproval at Alan’s impudent attempt to slip in extra conditions but then she nodded. “So be it.”

Alan closed his eyes tightly, awaiting … what exactly he didn’t know. A few seconds later he opened his eyes and gave the woman a disappointed glance.

“I don’t feel any different.”

“No?”

“But shouldn’t there have been a surge of energy or something.”

“Is that what you were expecting?”

“Er … I don’t know. It just seems so …” His voice trailed away.

“Your life was already yours. Nothing more was necessary.”

“Do you mean I’ve wasted a wish.”

“No.” Belle smiled at him. “You uttered a pledge to care for yourself. A wise wish, I deem.”

Alan smiled back, unaccountably pleased at her words of approval.

“Belle, I think I have an idea for my second wish but first will you answer a few questions?”

“So far as I am able.”

“If I were to wish for something that belongs to another, do they suffer that loss?”

“Yes.”

“How about if I ask for something that doesn’t exist?”

“If it does not exist, how can you wish for it?”

“I mean something extra, something new and additional, like for instance a diamond that weighs a million carats.”

“Why do you think such a thing does not exist? Man knows little of what lies outside this world. The cosmos contains many wonders.”

“Ooh! That’s a point. Is there intelligent life on other planets?”

“It is required that some things must remain a mystery.”

Alan’s sudden burst of enthusiasm was deflated immediately, but he had the good grace to laugh at the answer. “I should have expected that.”

“Indeed.”

“Anyway, are you saying that you cannot create something from nothing?”

“Precisely. The cosmos is in balance and must remain so.”

“The conservation of energy, you mean. Like the first law of thermodynamics.”

“I could not say. I know nothing of these laws of which you speak.”

“Now you’re teasing me.”

“Possibly. It is required that some things must remain a mystery.”

The man and the woman talked together for most of the night, until Alan began to nod. As he began to prepare himself for bed, Belle disappeared in order to preserve his dignity.

On Saturday, Alan had several tasks to attend to, including visiting his aged grandmother. She had raised him after his parents were killed in a car crash and they remained very close, despite unmistakable signs of her incipient dementia. Alan found her lapses increasingly distressing but still found much joy in their relationship. At one point she asked him straight out, as was her way, “And ‘ow’s yer love life?” Alan explained about his recent separation from Diana which Gran took in her stride. “She wasn’t worthy of you, son. Never mind, there’s plenty more fish in the sea.” Alan considered telling her about Belle but he wasn’t sure himself what he thought about that so left it for another time.

All the day, he became more and more excited as time wore on. He couldn’t wait to summon Belle again but, for some strange reason, had decided that it should always take place under the cover of darkness. He wasn’t ashamed of his gullibility exactly but rather, he was determined to keep her to himself.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

At nine o’clock that Saturday evening, Alan could bear to wait no longer and he looked expectantly at the armchair as he softly whispered, “Schezebellianthe.”

She appeared as if from a mist, her contours indistinct at first but quickly settling into a firm vision. Tonight she was wearing a black cocktail dress and high-heeled black court shoes. The simplicity of her clothes and her unadorned face seemed only to emphasise her natural elegance.

“Hi,” Alan said shyly.

“Hi yourself,” Belle replied.

“What happened to the ‘you have summoned me’ bit?”

“It is no longer necessary.”

“Oh! Good, I think.” He smiled. “Yes, good.

But please tell me something, Belle. I’ve been wondering about the clothes you wear. You dress like a person in the twenty first century.”

“Is this not the twenty first century?”

“Yes of course but …”

“You expected gauzy silks and harem wear perhaps.”

“No. Well … yes, I suppose.”

“I dress as you envisage me.”

“But how do you know what I …” Alan’s voice trailed away as Belle raised one perfect eyebrow and smiled enigmatically.

“Do you have a second wish?”

“Yes. But first another question if you don’t mind. What happens when I’ve used up all three wishes?”

“My place of confinement is transported to another place and I with it. Whither, I know not. Nor when I will be summoned again. It is required that some things must remain a mystery.”

“Oh, Belle. That must be awful.”

“It is my doom.”

“A punishment, you mean?”

“Let us term it a consequence. I shall not call it a destiny, for that is too enduring a concept even for me. I regret that it is not permitted for me to speak plainer.”

Alan stared at Belle in dismay as a full realisation of the horror of her fate overwhelmed him. But then his face slowly brightened as an idea occurred to him.

“How about … I mean … what if I only use two wishes?”

Belle seemed puzzled at the question and tilted her head the way she had done before, as though conversing with her inner self.

“I will await the third wish for as long as need be.”

Alan grinned in satisfaction and though Belle shot him an enquiring look, he did not reply and essayed for himself, an enigmatic air. His was less well designed than Belle’s but it would suffice, he thought.

Alan also imagined that Belle had lowered her gaze for an instant but when he looked again, her features were serene.

“OK, then,” he said. “You told me that anything I am granted must be acquired from others. This is the best I can think of.” He paused for effect, not really sure why he did but it seemed necessary somehow.

“I wish to receive the sum of one euro from every employed person currently living in the European Union.”

Alan half expected a roll of drums but Belle smiled her mysterious smile again and said, “So be it. It is done.”

All that evening and the next, Alan outlined his intensions to Belle and together, they mapped out his plan of campaign.

On Monday morning, Alan gave in his notice at work and went to his bank in order to meet with the manager. He was treated with a solicitousness he’d never before experienced – one bordering on sycophancy indeed. It wasn’t really surprising as his account showed a positive balance of 279, 372, 897 euros, a sum that was appreciably over the £200 million mark.

“Well, that’s an eye-opener and no mistake,” Alan said to himself as he left the bank. His researches had suggested that the figure would be 221.3 million; all of which just went to show how many people in Europe were illegally avoiding income tax.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Over the next few years, Alan and Belle often spoke long into the night, planning new schemes and investments and finding ways of ensuring that his grants and bequests were targeted at those in most need, and spent only on projects that were self-sustainable and progressive. They calculated that it would take fifty years or so for him to bestow all his fortune in the manner he intended and that by the time the funds were exhausted, a multitude of the poor and dispossessed of the world have derived some tangible benefit.

All donations were routed through a charitable trust of which Alan appeared to be nothing more than the chief executive. His only active participation was in an organisation specialising in care for the elderly called ‘The Bessie Gran Institute’. Rumour had it that the old lady thus honoured had died a few years before though no-one had been able to discover exactly who she was. Whenever the issue was discussed, Alan would invariably shrug his shoulders, grin mischievously and remark that ‘some things must remain a mystery’.

With Belle as his counsellor and helpmate, Alan continued much as before. Although he might have been forgiven some feelings of self-satisfaction and even pride, he avoided those temptations and remained the benign and somewhat diffident man he’d always been.

He’d done his utmost to evade publicity but in that he’d been only partially successful. Fortunately, the media seemed more interested in negative stories about ‘proper’ celebrities so he was only rarely subject to the attentions of journalists. However, he couldn’t totally elude all the invitations to ‘Charity Balls’ and the like and in some circles he was quite well-known, if only by name and reputation.

In time, such social events began to cause him more and more distress, especially so when he attracted the notice of certain women, intent upon fawning on him. It wasn’t that he was averse to the idea of romance for he sometimes thought that it would be nice to be married and have children. However, no-one he met stirred in him anything beyond mild approval or, more usually, powerful distaste. At such times, he was wont to leave a function abruptly and escape home, seeking the altogether more amusing conversation of his friend, Belle.

The truth was, Belle’s was the only company that Alan really wanted now and all else seemed disagreeable duty to him. And so, without noticing it, Alan had become as vulnerable as it was possible for a man to be.

………………………………………………………………………………..

One night, Alan returned home from another tiresome evening and immediately whispered the name that was increasingly never far from his lips.

“Schezebellianthe.”

His friend appeared in a shimmer wearing the smile that gladdened his heart.

“Did you have an enjoyable evening?” she asked.

“Not really. That woman Christina Beauchamp was there and I could hardly get away from her for the entire time. But whenever I did dodge her, I was immediately accosted by another, just like her. I never know what these women intend. Sometimes I imagine that they’re flirting with me but then I get a strong impression that they regard me as an uncouth, cockney lout.”

“You’re over-reacting, surely.”

“No, Belle, I really don’t think I am. I strongly suspect that most of them are leeches – scheming for a place in the sun or something. Despite their pretence to be altruistic by appearing at these kinds of events, they have as much charity in them as … as … as Attila the bloody Hun.”

Belle laughed. “Oh, Alan. What does it matter to you?”

“Well, nothing I suppose but I get angry at all their hypocrisy. I mean, they come on to me like bitches in heat but I never know if it’s me or the money they’re interested in.”

By now Alan was striding around the room in a foul temper. “You know, sometimes I just wish …”

“No!” Belle cried out in alarm but Alan was heedless in his fury.

“Sometimes I just wish I could read women’s minds.”

A horrified silence invaded the room. Alan’s eyes fell on Belle and he saw the look of devastation on her face.

“Oh Belle, what have I done? Please … I take it back, I take it back!”

But Belle’s form was already slowly beginning to recede. As he looked into those beautiful dark eyes, they began to weep sorrowful tears but he discerned the thought beneath. “Oh, my dearest Alan. All you had to do was wish me free and we would have lived and loved together all our days.”

Alan’s final view of his true, heart’s desire was blurred with his own tears but as she flickered out of his knowledge, he heard her voice cut through the night and pierce his soul.

“Fare thee well, my beloved.”

The End - Or Perhaps Just Another Beginning