Wuthering Dormice (aka Bike) Part 819 by Angharad

We stayed for another couple of days before Sir George was able to go back to work. I spent the time helping the girls with schoolwork I got from emails from Sister Maria. We went for a walk most afternoons if it wasn’t raining, which it seemed to do with some regularity.

Then on the Friday evening, Sir George came home and at dinner announced that he considered the Russian situation was under control.

“What exactly do you mean, under control?” I asked.

“We’ve got the Russian government to sort it and most if not all of their agents have been recalled. So, I consider it more or less over.”

“That would imply that they were behind it all from the start.”

“Indeed, they were, Cathy. You have to remember that their country is less well regulated than ours and the division between big business and organised crime is very blurred, as is the boundary between them and government.”

“I always thought that governments in this country were only polite bandits, with the revelations of the enslavement of children in Australia–I think our government is organised crime, where the Godfather gets elected by an unknowing population, most of whom have IQs in single figures. When you get into illegal wars...”

“Cathy, I think that’s enough.” Henry gave me a stern look from the far side of the table.

“But...” he grimaced at me and I shut up.

“Nothing is as it appears, Cathy, but that’s all I can say–except most of the people who get into government are decent types, trying to do their best for the country.”

“I’m sure Cathy appreciates that, George, don’t you, my dear?” Henry, ever the diplomat was closing me down. Given that George is employed as a senior civil servant by the government I was slating, he was probably correct and I was being naíve and perhaps a trifle rude as well. It’s poor manners to embarrass one’s host, just as it would be to do so to a guest. Could I claim it was my Sagittarian personality asserting itself? I doubt it. I stayed very quiet for the rest of the meal, and lost some of my appetite–something which was noticed by Hilary.

After dinner, she said she wanted to show something to me. She led me off to a small, but lovely room, it had several vases of flowers and others in pots, but the eye was drawn to an elegant writing desk, which I suspected was French and from the Bourbon period. She invited me to sit down and brought out a photo album, calling me to come closer to see the photos.

“A lot of what you were saying is quite true, Cathy, but we have to live with the double standards of government.” She showed me a number of photos of George in army uniform. “He was an intelligence officer in the Falklands and also in various other parts of the world. He still isn’t able to tell me about much of what he saw and did, some of it I know he’s ashamed of, innocents were harmed and that made him angry or sick. Sometimes he said he knew why things were done, sometimes he couldn’t understand why, but he stopped asking because no one would tell him, and he felt he could do more good by trying to change things from inside the system rather than a lone voice in the wilderness, which could be easily silenced–if you remember Dr Kelly, who apparently killed himself after saying things about Iraq.”

“I’ve heard he was murdered.”

“I can’t comment, Cathy, but I know George was very angry about things.”

“So he wasn’t involved?”

“Good lord, no. He’d have resigned first.”

“Of course; I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have questioned his integrity.”

“That’s okay, because he’s head of MI5, people think he’s able to order this and that on a whim–he isn’t, it has to go via Downing Street or the Home Office.”

“I suppose it has, but he doesn’t have anything to do with MI6 then?”

“Not really, except when they have joint security meetings, every other week or emergency ones as required.”

“So did MI6 kill Kelly?”

“I don’t know, and George wouldn’t tell you, if he did know.”

“I wouldn’t expect him to.” We looked at some more photos; “He was quite a dashing figure in uniform, wasn’t he?”

“Oh if only you knew, Cathy, I had to fight quite hard to get his exclusive attention, he was very popular with the girls.”

“I can believe that from the photos.”

“Do you wish Simon had been in the forces?”

“No way, no he’s been hurt a couple of times being a civilian. With his luck he’d have stepped on a mine during basic training, or been shot during target practice.”

“They are supervised you know?”

“I know, and I have the greatest respect for the courage of the various armies around the world, especially those trying to bring peace and freedom to oppressed peoples. Except we are very selective aren’t we? I mean we invade Iraq because it has oil, we go to Afghanistan to help the Yanks, yet we don’t go into Zimbabwe, where that monster has been destroying the economy for years. Why? Because it doesn’t have anything we want.”

“You’re very cynical for one so young.”

“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?”

“I wouldn’t dream of telling you anything, Cathy. What you did for George, leaves me in awe of you.”

“Why? I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t do anything? Why, all that was missing was a celestial choir.”

“What?”

“There was a light shining under the door, so I peeped in to investigate. You were the centre of the light, which was blindingly bright, and it was flowing into George through your hands.”

“Was it?”

“You mean you didn’t see it?”

“I suppose I either fell asleep or was in a sort of trance, so no, I didn’t–but I, er, know what you mean.”

“You are exceptionally blessed, young woman.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.”

“Just think of all the good you could do.”

“I have, thought about it, that is.”

“And?”

“It’s more of a curse than a gift.”

“How can the ability to summon God’s help, be a curse? If I had your gift, I’d be rejoicing.”

“Let me make a suggestion to you, imagine you’re just Mrs Jo Public, and you win a double roll over on the lottery–say, thirty or forty million. You are so pleased to receive the cheque that you agree to be used in the publicity. Suddenly, everyone knows who you are, and the number of new friends you have will grow exponentially.”

“As the beggars and criminals try it on, you mean?”

“Some will be genuinely in need as well, and I suspect a number of charities would try to tap you, too. Now if you were known to have some sort of magic charm that made people feel better, some would try to buy it off you for good and bad reasons, some would just try to borrow it because they felt a need. If that magic healed the sick, then you will be pursued by those who were very ill or even dying–and I don’t blame them, because if it were one of my kids, I’d try anything too.”

“So, you have a duty to share it?”

“Do I? I have a duty to bring up my children as best I can, I have a moral obligation to try and protect the environment, especially where that involves endangered species in this country, but I hope also abroad. I have no obligation to save lives willy nilly, just because I can, if it’s actually true–it isn’t always. People, still die, even when I have tried.”

“But–George was at death’s door–and you saved him, I can’t believe you would walk away from someone else in need.”

“There are millions of people in the third world who are dying from poverty. I live quite comfortably, as do you and George. By your reckoning, shouldn’t we give all our money to them–isn’t that what Jesus suggested his followers do?”

“That’s different, Cathy, our money wouldn’t save that many and once it was gone, we’d be poor as well.”

“My gift for want of a better word, wouldn’t save that many either, and it tires me to use it. I don’t see the point of killing myself to save someone else when I have obligations which I feel I have to honour.”

“Oh–your children?”

“Exactly. I couldn’t help them much if I was so tired or dead, so I don’t try to heal many people. It’s also hit and miss, so I can’t guarantee anything. A while ago, I did help some very sick kids at Portsmouth–the press were chasing the magical healer, I had to stop, and swore I’d never do it again because it threatened what was precious to me.”

“So why did you save my George?”

“Because I could, or thought I might be able to. Also you and he had helped me and mine, so I felt obligated.”

“You shouldn’t have.”

“Not in the usual sense, you had shared more than your resources with us, you were taking a risk in accommodating us. I took one in trying to help him–it worked, thankfully.”

“You’re a strange lady, Catherine.”

“I plead guilty as charged,”–you just don’t know how strange.