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 birthday Sharon, my name is Church.”
“I know,” said the girl. “I have been expecting you… Call me Pinky,” she said as she leaned over to the cabinet and took a tin from a drawer. “Are you my angel?” she asked, still trying to focus. “You are covered in a rainbow. Apart from Jack, the red angel I saw this morning, and I, everybody else I have seen was just white. Mind you, I thought Jack was my imagination until you arrived as he said you would. I have been hearing voices in my head for so long and getting blinding headaches.”
She opened the tin and pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette, which she lit and blew marijuana smoke around the room. Putting the joint in an ashtray, she filled a glass with water, opened a bottle of pills from the collection of neuroleptic medications, and swallowed a small yellow pill with the water.
“Clozaril,” she said, tapping the plastic bottle top. “New wonder drug for crackpots,” she chuckled and held out her arms and showed Church. “This is all over me; I am glowing red, that isn’t normal. I thought it was the drugs giving me hallucinations until I saw you.”
Church smiled and said, “For people like us that is normal and to answer your question, I am not an angel. What you see is my aura, the same as I can see yours, it’s not red, it is crimson. I am a Keeper, so mine is multi-coloured, and this morning my grandfather Jack’s spirit visited you. You aren’t crazy Pinky, just different,” said Church reassuringly. “We are special.”
Pinky closed her eyes as she was feeling high, but juddered awake and concentrated on Church.
“What about all the voices and headaches? Jack told me some crazy weird shit, saying you would explain everything,” she said, adding, “unless it was the drugs. None of this seems real.”
Church remembered his days of confusion and fear, so he could empathise with this young frightened woman.
“Jack told you that I would come, didn’t he?” Church asked.
“Yes,”
