True. But the thought for her seems like a memory, so vivid.Not quite yet of course.... she's still lying on that bed in the white room, imagining.... and sometimes what you imagine is not quite what happens....
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P
Pia
Guest
CUT
“You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“It’s what she wants. That’s why she’s here.”
“But you didn’t tell her everything did you?”
“Does it matter? It’s the same thing in the end isn’t it?”
“Are you going to?”
“No. There’s no point.”
CUT
“You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“It’s what she wants. That’s why she’s here.”
“But you didn’t tell her everything did you?”
“Does it matter? It’s the same thing in the end isn’t it?”
“Are you going to?”
“No. There’s no point.”
CUT
P
Pia
Guest
I slowly raise my legs, letting my still-crossed feet drag over the sheet, my knees parting slightly, imagining the cool of the wood. I’m there in the church again, and my mother is kissing people as they arrive and is crying and somehow I’m not there, but he is, standing beside my sister and my brother in front of the altar, with the white lilies and the red roses.
I hear the echo of the steel in the warm desert air and my head falls back and my mouth opens wide. I feel myself rising and turning as the ground falls away below me. My eyes look to my wrists and my feet and the white light is interrupted by three lines of red. I look down the smoothness of my body and I single tear falls from my eye and hangs on my cheek. I want so much to wipe it away, but I cannot. I can think of nothing but the tiny, salt blue tear.
I hear the echo of the steel in the warm desert air and my head falls back and my mouth opens wide. I feel myself rising and turning as the ground falls away below me. My eyes look to my wrists and my feet and the white light is interrupted by three lines of red. I look down the smoothness of my body and I single tear falls from my eye and hangs on my cheek. I want so much to wipe it away, but I cannot. I can think of nothing but the tiny, salt blue tear.
P
Pia
Guest
My ankles are kissed by the water. I turn to look at her as my hair blows gently over my eyes. I’m wishing it was her, but she’s gone, because it’s the end of summer and I’m imagining her there, standing on the beach waiting for me with her fingers touching her cheek and her lips just a little apart and I move the hair from my eyes and then she’s gone and I feel the cold of the water as it slides up over my legs and around my waist without a sound and I look at the silent wave as it dies on the sand.
I turn to where my brother and sister are playing in the sea, sitting in the shallow water and laughing. I run, but they have vanished. The silent wave slips back towards the ocean and the sand whispers and hisses as it rolls towards the horizon. I run, splashing crying out their names, but they have gone. I cannot breathe, my eyes are filling with tears and my mouth with half-shouted cries. And then I see them, clinging together, lying still on the shimmering sand that the sea has deserted, strings of green kelp tangled in their mouths.
I turn to where my brother and sister are playing in the sea, sitting in the shallow water and laughing. I run, but they have vanished. The silent wave slips back towards the ocean and the sand whispers and hisses as it rolls towards the horizon. I run, splashing crying out their names, but they have gone. I cannot breathe, my eyes are filling with tears and my mouth with half-shouted cries. And then I see them, clinging together, lying still on the shimmering sand that the sea has deserted, strings of green kelp tangled in their mouths.
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P
Pia
Guest
CUT
“Can you make sure that everything’s ready downstairs?”
“Yeah. I mean what do you want me to do?”
“The heater. The electric grill. I need you to get the things hot on it, ok? And the other stuff. I’ll need the one with the lead split-shot from the fishing kit and the one with those hooks from the paternoster line, you know the ones? Just have them ready for me, ok?”
“You know it’s not what she wants. Why are you doing it this way? You know she wants what we agreed...”
“It ends up the same. And it’s too good an opportunity. I have to pay for this place you know. And for us. You want that don’t you?”
“I.... I suppose.... But, it isn’t right somehow. But I guess.... Well, what else do you want me to do?”
“Just get the lights sorted, and the cameras. I want to make sure they’re all working properly. Thirty minutes, right? I’ve a few more signing-up online and the auction for the private views is almost done. Four slots. They can choose from the option list. That’s after we’ve done the first part and she’s up. OK?”
“I guess. Half an hour then. Do you want the still camera too?”
CUT
“Can you make sure that everything’s ready downstairs?”
“Yeah. I mean what do you want me to do?”
“The heater. The electric grill. I need you to get the things hot on it, ok? And the other stuff. I’ll need the one with the lead split-shot from the fishing kit and the one with those hooks from the paternoster line, you know the ones? Just have them ready for me, ok?”
“You know it’s not what she wants. Why are you doing it this way? You know she wants what we agreed...”
“It ends up the same. And it’s too good an opportunity. I have to pay for this place you know. And for us. You want that don’t you?”
“I.... I suppose.... But, it isn’t right somehow. But I guess.... Well, what else do you want me to do?”
“Just get the lights sorted, and the cameras. I want to make sure they’re all working properly. Thirty minutes, right? I’ve a few more signing-up online and the auction for the private views is almost done. Four slots. They can choose from the option list. That’s after we’ve done the first part and she’s up. OK?”
“I guess. Half an hour then. Do you want the still camera too?”
CUT
malins
Stumbling Seeker
Hmmm, a darker aspect develops...
These almost sound like Wragg's relatives running this show...
P
Pia
Guest
I remember his mouth, his eyes wide open. His arms spread on the silt. The sound of the first response team, their boots on the sea-soaked beach. I remember his eyes and his mouth and the tangles of kelp and how his hand almost touched her hand but didn’t quite reach and I remember the crowd and the noise and the silence and the beating of my heart.
And I remember him, who I thought had gone forever, and how he stood by them both and the white lilies and the red roses as if he had never been away and I remember my mother and her tears and I remember how I tried to hide behind the column in the church as the priest spoke his words and the organ played.
And I know that the tear on my cheek will not move away and that I cannot wipe it away and that it will burn into my heart; more than the spikes of the cactus or the sun’s late light caught in the scrub oaks or the barn with half a roof or the shadows of torn tin corrugations that sit a stained red corpse on the sandy ground.
I think that he'll come soon and he’ll ask me to follow him down to the garage. He won’t ask me to dress, because that won’t matter. He will want me just to be as I am. And I will follow him of course, and I will climb in to the car and sit on the bench seat and feel the leather on my skin.
And I remember him, who I thought had gone forever, and how he stood by them both and the white lilies and the red roses as if he had never been away and I remember my mother and her tears and I remember how I tried to hide behind the column in the church as the priest spoke his words and the organ played.
And I know that the tear on my cheek will not move away and that I cannot wipe it away and that it will burn into my heart; more than the spikes of the cactus or the sun’s late light caught in the scrub oaks or the barn with half a roof or the shadows of torn tin corrugations that sit a stained red corpse on the sandy ground.
I think that he'll come soon and he’ll ask me to follow him down to the garage. He won’t ask me to dress, because that won’t matter. He will want me just to be as I am. And I will follow him of course, and I will climb in to the car and sit on the bench seat and feel the leather on my skin.
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P
Pia
Guest
I’m waiting so hard for his feet on the stairway, or maybe hers. I’m filling the space in the room with my thoughts and my imaginings and I can’t really feel how it will be, but I know that I want it to be. I’m back in the church, trying to vanish into the shadow of the column that is flecked by the brilliant lights cast from the stained glass of the window in the transept. I’m looking to where he is standing, waiting for the priest in his robes who will enter from the door at the left. There’s no noise at all, or just the noise that silent people make as they wait. I’m alone behind the column, touching the cold white stone as he moves to the altar and coughs to clear his throat as the congregation sits, as he sits. I don’t listen to what he says, to the prayer he speaks. I’m looking beyond him at the gold cross with a star-burst that stands on the white altar cloth and at the two lancet windows that paint their reds and blues over the stone floor and at the image of the cross and his body twisted and pierced, and I look at the flowers that lie where my brother and sister are waiting.
P
Pia
Guest
Soon everything will be alright again. I think about it the water drifting up my legs and the wave and their plastic toys on the sand; and I think of him and the priest and the cross. And I’m so glad I found them that day, when I climbed into the car with white-walled tires and deep leather bench seats that were a faded red. She sat with me and I recall her touching my hair. I want her to come up the stairs so much, and to touch me and to let her red curls block out the white of the sun and for her to lift me from this bed and take me back to the car that will take me to the place. I think about it all the time. Perhaps I was thinking about it even before that day on the beach; even before that day in the church. Perhaps I have always been thinking about it. I know it’s the thing I have somehow always wanted. I know it will be so perfect, so calm, as I lie down on the cold wood in the fading sunlight and look across at the old farmstead.
CUT
“Are you ready yet?”
“What? Why? Have you finished on the internet?”
“Almost. Just a few more slots to sell I think. I’ve used some of the pictures from before, you know the ones? I’ll need to shut the site down soon and then we’ll just open through the password. Then we’ll be ready to go. Are you ready to get her? Make sure she doesn’t realise what’s going to happen.”
“But what shall I say to her? Won’t she know something's up if we bring her down to the basement?”
“I don’t know. Make something up. Tell her you need some help with something or whatever. I don’t care. Just get her down without a fight.”
“I...It’s not what you promised her. She wanted what we agreed. I... I know there’s the money, but why are you doing this to her?”
“Why not? Like I said, in the end it’s the same. I said I’d help her get what she wanted and I am. Come on, what’s the issue? We need to get moving. I’ve said I’ll start in thirty. Have you got the tools heated up properly?”
“Yes. But... It’s just not right. She wanted it to be beautiful. Not like this. Not in a basement with cameras and lights and everything. I don’t think it’s right.”
“Come on. I know you want to join in with it too. Don’t try to fool me. I know you like it. She’ll look great. You know she will.”
“But it’s not what we agreed! You can’t do this to her. I want to be with her at the farmstead, like we agreed. Not with all these things and all the people watching her. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. It’s horrible. Why can’t you do what you promised?”
“I could, but there’s more money in this. I’ve got the punters hooked up now. And the money’s in the account. And you know you’ll enjoy it too. It’ll all be done in a couple of hours. I mean, that’s got to be better for her too. Better than staying there all night and all the next day or whatever. She’d be crying out for us to end it. You know that. This way it’ll be done tonight. All over.”
“But not how she wants it. You can’t do it to her. I can’t...”
“You can’t what?”
“I won’t...I’m not going to let you...”
CUT
CUT
“Are you ready yet?”
“What? Why? Have you finished on the internet?”
“Almost. Just a few more slots to sell I think. I’ve used some of the pictures from before, you know the ones? I’ll need to shut the site down soon and then we’ll just open through the password. Then we’ll be ready to go. Are you ready to get her? Make sure she doesn’t realise what’s going to happen.”
“But what shall I say to her? Won’t she know something's up if we bring her down to the basement?”
“I don’t know. Make something up. Tell her you need some help with something or whatever. I don’t care. Just get her down without a fight.”
“I...It’s not what you promised her. She wanted what we agreed. I... I know there’s the money, but why are you doing this to her?”
“Why not? Like I said, in the end it’s the same. I said I’d help her get what she wanted and I am. Come on, what’s the issue? We need to get moving. I’ve said I’ll start in thirty. Have you got the tools heated up properly?”
“Yes. But... It’s just not right. She wanted it to be beautiful. Not like this. Not in a basement with cameras and lights and everything. I don’t think it’s right.”
“Come on. I know you want to join in with it too. Don’t try to fool me. I know you like it. She’ll look great. You know she will.”
“But it’s not what we agreed! You can’t do this to her. I want to be with her at the farmstead, like we agreed. Not with all these things and all the people watching her. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair. It’s horrible. Why can’t you do what you promised?”
“I could, but there’s more money in this. I’ve got the punters hooked up now. And the money’s in the account. And you know you’ll enjoy it too. It’ll all be done in a couple of hours. I mean, that’s got to be better for her too. Better than staying there all night and all the next day or whatever. She’d be crying out for us to end it. You know that. This way it’ll be done tonight. All over.”
“But not how she wants it. You can’t do it to her. I can’t...”
“You can’t what?”
“I won’t...I’m not going to let you...”
CUT
P
Pia
Guest
Me to....sigh....
This gets better (worse???) with every post!!!
Celticvirgin
Tribune
This is just wonderful PK. I love it so much. What are they going to do to her? 
P
Pia
Guest
CUT
She lies on the bed, waiting. Just conscious of raised voices in the room below that are partly obscured by a vehcile passing along the narrow way beyond the high white-washed walls of the garden. She is recalling, we can suppose, the nights when he took her to the basement room, and the the old farmstead with the broken wooden posts and the barn with half a roof and the shadows of torn tin corrugations. She is imagining the water as it laps higher around her legs and the sand between her toes. She is imagining the bench seat of faded red leather and the sound of the engine starting and the metalic rattle as the gate to the roadway slides open.
CUT
“Is it you? Is it time for us to go?”
“Shhh...”
“Where is...?”
“Shhh, it’s just me. I didn’t want to...It doesn’t matter. We can go together.”
She lies on the bed, waiting. Just conscious of raised voices in the room below that are partly obscured by a vehcile passing along the narrow way beyond the high white-washed walls of the garden. She is recalling, we can suppose, the nights when he took her to the basement room, and the the old farmstead with the broken wooden posts and the barn with half a roof and the shadows of torn tin corrugations. She is imagining the water as it laps higher around her legs and the sand between her toes. She is imagining the bench seat of faded red leather and the sound of the engine starting and the metalic rattle as the gate to the roadway slides open.
CUT
“Is it you? Is it time for us to go?”
“Shhh...”
“Where is...?”
“Shhh, it’s just me. I didn’t want to...It doesn’t matter. We can go together.”
Beautiful, Pk. Will they spoil it for her? A wistful musing so far, about to take a dark twist?
I feel the way Old Slave does. Please let it be beautiful for her, because regardless of what "he" says, it's not all the same in the end, is it?