Body and Soul

[Meluivan Indil]

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie rights to Basil and am receiving no monetary gain from writing this fic. No infringement is intended.

Summary: The last we see of John Mannion he is lying at the bottom of a cliff and it is assumed that he is dead. But what if he did not die. Can he persevere through what his life has become? Can he let go of his hatred from the past? And can life hold something dear for him other than his plans of revenge? John/OFC, Basil/Clara. Rated T for language, violence and implied sexual situations.

A/N: Italics denote unspoken thought. This fic is mostly John centric but later on there is quite a lot of Basil also.

Body and Soul

Chapter 1

That face. That could not be his face. No, gone were the smooth features. Gone was the rakish smile. Gone was the rugged handsomeness that had drawn Julia to him to begin with. Julia, she was gone too. She had died in his arms as she held their newborn baby. Their baby. Where was the baby? Had Basil taken her or had he gotten one last instance of revenge by leaving the baby to die of starvation and neglect in her dead mother’s arms? What would become of his child?

All of it was his fault. His all consuming rage and need for revenge upon Basil’s father had done this to all of them. Now where were they? Basil was an outcast, shunned by all of society for his dishonor in wedding below his class. Julia was dead and the only true crime she had committed was to fall in love with a man incapable of love and shunning the love of a man who was beyond devoted to her. He had told Basil that hate was love’s twin. But no, that was not at all true. Love was the most honorable of emotions and one he had not been able to experience since childhood. Hate, that is what he felt. Ever growing hatred for a man and a society that showed indifference and loathing for those he had loved such a long time before.

Now look where he was. Where was he anyway? He remembered looking out to the horizon as he just allowed himself to fall from the cliff. It had been a moment of freedom. A moment of freedom from the all-consuming self-loathing he had felt since the first day he had set into motion his plan of revenge. It had been so easy to set the events into motion, which would bring down Basil and in turn bring down his father. The boy was so naïve and had played into his plans without second thought. But for that very reason John had felt pangs of regret at doing such horrible things to the boy. Basil was a typically droll upper class who thought way to highly of himself. But John had seen shadows of the young man’s true self, hidden deep within. Basil was just as much a tortured soul as John had been. His father had seen to that. That man could ruin a life with the drop of a hat and had done so far too many times. For his own part in the ruin of a friend he had learned to loath himself almost as much as that evil man who had ruined his life before he was even more than a boy himself. But that was all over now. Surely he was dead. Surely the fall had killed him. But if he was dead why did he still have thoughts in his head? Was he in heaven? No, that place was reserved for others who had never done the horrible things he had. So was it to be hell then? There was only one way to find out.

His eyes slowly opened to the blurry vision of a young woman sitting before him smiling. “Ah, I see you have finally decided to rejoin the living, Sir.” The voice was soft but had a humorous tone that he had not expected.

So I do live. Now isn’t that a hell of a joke to play on a man in my position?

“Would you like a drink of water? You have not had much liquid to quench your thirst in the past few days.” The voice held a quality of concern. Yet again unexpected. He nodded and then immediately regretted it as pain coursed through his head.

Please tell me I am dead and this is just a cruel dream that hell has cooked up for me.

“Please, don’t move too much,” the woman pleaded as she retrieved a glass of water and moved closer to him pressing the glass to his deformed lips.

Feeling the glass on his lips he realized that the scarf that he used to cover the lower part of his face was gone and she could see his mutilation. Be damned the pain he reached up pushing her hand away spilling the water down his front as he covered his lower face with his arm and tried to turn his face away from hers.

Please don’t look at me.

Then the pain from his movements caught hold and he bit down on his tongue drawing blood with the force of the action.

“No, don’t do that. I want to help you, Sir,” the woman said trying to pull his arm down. “You are going to hurt yourself more. I have worked for days to set your broken bones and heal the cuts and bruises you received in your fall.”

John turned his face back to the woman but did not pull his arm away. “Why? Why didn’t you just let me die? That was what I wanted.”

His vision had cleared and he could see the woman look down for a moment not holding his eyes. “I could not just allow you to die. That would be too horrible to withstand.”

John couldn’t help the chuckle dripping with sarcasm from falling from his lips. “And this is not horrible,” he demanded reaching out quickly with the arm that had been covering his face and grasping her chin pulling it up so she looked directly at his face.

The young woman did not flinch or look away. She just sighed deeply. “To most it probably is, but it matters not to me. I saw a life in jeopardy and acted. I apologize if that is not what you planned, but I see every life as precious and thus so could not let yours go.”

John let his hand fall from her chin and looked down away from her piercing gaze. “You see things in a strange light, girl. But I suppose I can not fault you for doing what you saw as right.”

A small smile spread upon her face at his words. Just maybe she could keep him alive for a little longer. Long enough to convince him that he really wanted to stay that way.

“Now, will you allow me to give you some water that you do not end up wearing?” she asked brightly picking up the empty water glass he had knocked from her hand earlier.

He nodded once still not looking up at her.

She refilled the water from a pitcher she had placed beside the bed and reached out her hand holding the glass. He immediately wrapped one hand around the glass taking it from her hand and moved it shakily to his lips.

d**n, don’t you look the fool? You can’t even keep your hand steady enough to drink a glass of water.

His hand fumbled and nearly dropped the glass when her hand reached out steadying it enough to allow him to tip it up and drink a small amount. She pulled the glass away after a moment. “Not too much at once. You’ll become ill.”

He finally let his eyes stray to her face again. “Thank you, Miss…”

“Marshall, Mia Marshall. But please call me Mia. We are far from civilization and there is no need to stand on formalities out here,” she answered reaching one hand out squeezing his own comfortingly.

He nodded and then offered his own name. “John Mannion.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, John Mannion. Now if you don’t mind, I will help you change the shirt you just soaked and see to your wounds again.” Mia smiled standing and moving towards him letting him know he had no choice in the matter.

God for some one who says she saved me she sure is doing her best to try to kill me now. The thought came unbidden as he panted heavily after she changed his shirt and began to inspect his broken bones. He had discovered that in the fall he had sustained a broken leg and forearm along with several cracked ribs and numerous cuts covering the rest of his body. All in all it was a miracle that neither one nor all of his wounds had managed to kill him.

“That is the last, Mr. Mannion,” Mia said after re-splinting his forearm. “You are safe from my ministrations for a short while now.

“That would be a good thing,” he panted breathlessly. “And call me John.”

With that said a loud crying noise was heard from the next room. “I’ll be right back,” Mia said standing quickly heading into a small room off of the den.

Surely, no. It could not be. How would she have known about the baby? How could she have found her?

But then his questions were answered as Mia returned holding an infant girl that looked to be about a year old. “This is Sarah, my daughter,” she beamed at the small girl who had finally stopped crying.

“Beautiful child,” John whispered his words breaking slightly. It was true. He noticed that the babe’s heart-like facial shape was all she shared in common with her mother. Where the baby’s skin tone was golden, her mother’s was pale, almost translucent. And where the baby’s hair was all golden curls, her mother’s was the color of raven’s wings and long and straight. “Where is your husband?” he asked realizing he had not imagined anyone else living there with her.

“Gone. Long before Sarah here was born. It is just us now.” John noticed that she did not seem all too upset by her own words but did not comment.

John looked around at the small cottage they were in and could tell that the young woman had put a lot of care and warmth into the place to make it the best home for her child. He wondered for a moment what a solitary life like that would be like. But was sure from watching the mother and child that neither of them would ever lack for companionship as long as they had each other.

After Sarah had eaten and went back to sleep Mia prepared a light meal for the two of them, not wanting to overdue the food he ate just yet, until he was able to withstand more. As she sat on the edge of his bed she noticed him grimace and saw the beads of sweat forming on his brow. She could tell that the pain he was suffering was taking a great toll on him. “I’m sorry, John. I don’t have anything for pain. Not even a bottle of cheap ale,” she whispered spooning some broth into his mouth. He had finally agreed that he was too weak to feed himself and would have to let her do it for him.

“I will be fine,” he answered looking away as he noticed her staring at him.

“You must eat. Please,” she pleaded. “You must get your strength back.”

“What difference does it make?” he said barely above a whisper.

“Sir… John, I can tell that however you gained your facial injuries occurred some time ago. You have been alive all this time since. So there must be something you are living for.” Mia knew it was none of her business but still she felt compelled to put forth an argument anyway.

“Maybe I just realized that the thing I was living for wasn’t worth having to begin with,” he argued angrily.

Mia nodded in slight understanding. She understood the sentiment and had seen it before in others she had cared for. And she decided to tell him the same as she had them. “Well in that case you need to find something else to live for. Something that is worthy.”

“How am I to do such a thing? Look at me. There is no place in this life for someone who looks like this. I cannot find employment. I cannot attract a wife or have a family. Tell me, other than hate and revenge what else is there that I can live for?” John hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with this woman. She seemed like a very caring person, but still she was being naïve if she believed he had anything in life to look forward to. “And I’m tired of hate and revenge. So d**n tired.” With those words he sunk back into his pillows letting his head loll to the side facing away from her.

Mia paused for a moment afraid to say what she was thinking. She knew what she was thinking could very well make him even more angry with her. But still if she could only convince him…

“What if I told you that a normal life was not beyond hope for you, John?” she whispered in an unsure voice.

“Then I would call you a liar, Miss,” he answered still looking away.

“What if I said that I have seen people much more deformed than you come back to a semblance of their former selves?” she did not let his words deter her. “Though they were not healed of their disease they were able to slow its deforming progress and in some cases reverse it for a time.”

This piqued John’s curiosity as he swung his face around again to stare at her in confusion. “What are you speaking of?”

“Lepers.” Her voice had regained some of its strength with his attention. The word was not spoken in disgust as he usually heard but instead with a light of hope in her voice. “There is a poultice that I have seen used on them that at least allows healing to begin. Even though it could not heal the disease itself and they finally succumbed to its ravages some were able to at least stand the sight of their selves for a short period.”

“How would something like this help me? And how do you know of such things?” His curiosity was becoming insatiable with her words.

Now that she had his full attention and she was sure he would not yell at her for her suggestion her excitement at the thought of truly helping him increased and she leaned forward in anticipation. “Don’t you see? Someone who is not suffering from that disease but was still mutilated in such a way could regain much of their former features by using such a treatment. Not to embarrass you but while you were sleeping I studied your face. Though your jaw was broken and that cannot be changed the outside deformity is still raw in most places and has not been given much chance of healing. I suppose that is due to being in the elements too much since the incident. But that might actually work in your favor for that means that scar tissue has not formed as readily. If we were to apply this poultice each evening before bed eventually the swelling and redness would be gone and it would lessen the appearance of scar tissue also.”

John could not believe what he was hearing. Could any of that truly be possible? Could she really erase the monster he had become? “I could look normal again?”

“Well, I can’t promise that you would look the same as before. That would be impossible. There would still be some scar tissue and you would never be able to grow facial hair again, but you would look more or less like a normal person with a few pronounced scars similar to someone who has recovered from say the pox.” She seemed to hold her breath waiting for his reply.

“Do you know where to get this poultice?” He noticed that she had not answered his questions about how she knew about the treatment, but he did not push it.

“I can make it, here in my home. The forest surrounding us will provide the ingredients,” she answered waving her hand in the air motioning to the woods unseen outside her cottage.

“If I agree to this, how long would it take for this to work?” He did not want to become completely enamored with the idea. It seemed too good to be true but still it would be worth the effort.

“I can’t tell you for sure. All of the patients I have seen treated by it eventually died and the treatment was never finished to its final outcome.” She did not want to give him false hope but it was impossible to disguise the excitement in her voice. “But in most cases a small difference was noticed within a few days and major differences within months. Full treatment though could last up to a couple of years or longer.”

John felt as if his heart was sinking. Years. Years of wasted life. He had already wasted so much of his life on earth. But what other choice did he have? It was that or a life of hiding from society or death. And though part of him did not believe that he deserved better than death another part of him yearned for a second chance to live a life that would hold more than it ever had before.

Just as he began to truly consider her suggestion a thought came to him. “But what of you? You would have to dedicate a large portion of your life to me. And your child would have to grow up with this hideous face in her home. What would that do to her?”

“Sir, I have spent a large part of my life caring for others who were not able to care for themselves. It is what I was raised to do. My father was a physician. He treated the people in the Leper colony that was near our home for most of my childhood and I spent most of my time by his side. Doing this for you, honestly is nothing compared to that. You at least will soon be able to care for yourself once your injuries have healed. And as for my child, she will grow up as I did. I will not keep from her the hardships of life like some doting nobleman’s daughter who thinks of nothing more than her own comfort and snaring a good husband. As far as I am concerned the worst injustice a person can ever shift onto their own offspring is to promote ignorance towards the atrocities of our lives.” Her words were filled with an amount of conviction that he had never heard from a woman’s mouth before. Yet again this woman was surprising him at every turn.

He stared at her for a moment not sure if he should even consider putting his faith in her. But then one thought came undeniably to his mind. What do I have to lose?

[Meluivan Indil]

Chapter 2

Healing


True to her word Mia’s poultice started taking affect gradually. Every evening before he went to sleep she would smooth the poultice over the mutilated skin with soft fingers that did not hurt him. The poultice itself burned a slight bit to begin with but he reminded himself that it would be worth it if he could lessen the damage that had been done. It had taken Mia several arguments to convince him to let her administer the medicine herself to make sure it was applied thoroughly. He was unable to tell her that the thought of her beautiful soft hands touching such ugliness made him sick to his stomach. But she knew all the same and was not surprised when after the first few times he had become ill and retched in a pail she had brought close for just that purpose.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice seemed deeper, heavier with emotion as he leaned over the pail clutching his good arm to his cracked ribs trying to fend off the pain that the retching motion was causing.

She sat on the bed behind him holding his hair back out of his face and rubbing his back comfortingly. “It is fine. You have nothing to apologize for, John. It will take time for all of this not to have this affect on you. I understand.”

“My lord, woman. I am the one who is sick and I cannot stand to be around myself. How can you bare to watch such disgusting actions without becoming ill yourself?” It was unimaginable to him. He knew without a doubt that he would never be able to care for a sick person as she did.

“A long time ago when I first started helping my father I became sick often after visiting the truly ill ones. I was not very strong then. But then I realized something. For every moment that I spent caring for a person who was ill it gave them one more moment of comfort and happiness that they would not have otherwise felt. And when those very same people were feeling better and were not so ill they brought that happiness back to me tenfold in their words and sentiments. There were many people who I grew to care for and it was never any bother or hardship to care for them.” She paused as he thought about her words and something about them rang true.

He could feel her hand softly making circling motions on his back and true it did feel good. Just the warmth of her touch was a comfort beyond what any dulling ale could have ever brought to him at that moment. Her other hand was entwined in his shoulder length hair holding it back and he could feel her fingers pressed against his scalp and that also felt comforting almost as wonderful as a lover’s intimate touch. Now where did that thought come from? Never before had he had such thoughts of sentiment concerning a lover. They filled a need and that was it. And besides, she was not his lover. Dreams of lovers had long since fled his mind. She was… She was a friend. But no, that did not seem correct either. She was more caring and soothing than any friend he had ever imagined could be. She was something that he did not quite understand yet. But one thing he did vow was that whenever he was feeling stronger and less ill he would find a way to repay her kindness tenfold just as she had said.

As the retching subsided she helped him to lie back against his pillows and she wound a clean loose scarf around his lower face to keep the poultice covered wound clean throughout the night. Then she went about straightening his covers making him comfortable for the night.

“Mia, if you enjoyed caring for others so much then why are you here? Why live in such seclusion?” he asked curiously.

“Whenever my father learned that I was with child he sent me away. This cottage had been he and my mother’s home when they first married. This bed you sleep in now was mine when I was a young child. My father said he could not bare our family losing another child. Babies were the most prone to contract the leper’s disease and by then it had spread to most of the town we lived in. The rest of my family had all succumbed to it years ago and long since left us for heaven. Both of my brothers, who were born there, were taken before they were Sarah’s age.” Mia’s words were spoken softly with a touch of despair.

“I’m sorry for bringing up such sad thoughts for you.” John immediately wanted to take back the question, but was still curious and wanted to change the subject to a lighter one. “And your father. Has he seen his beautiful granddaughter yet?”

Mia’s eyes closed for a moment and when they opened again a single tear escaped down her cheek. “My father succumbed to the pox, of all things, a few months ago. He never got to see Sarah but I know he would have been proud of her if he could have.”

John reached out a hand taking hers and squeezing it. “I’m sorry, Mia. I was trying to bring back happy memories for you and all I have managed to do is make you cry.” You are certainly repaying her kindness tenfold tonight aren’t you fool?

Mia smiled and cleared her throat wiping away the tears. “That is fine, my friend. The subject would have come up one way or another sometime. Best to get it over with early. It will get easier with time as all pain does. Now you know quite a bit about me, Sir. Soon it will be my turn to ask questions about you.” She could see the worried frown cross his face and knew there were many things in his past that he would as soon keep to himself. “But that can wait till later. We are both exhausted.” With those words she laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder and whispered. “Sleep well. And for you I wish a brighter morning shall dawn.”

After she had left John’s mind was preoccupied with what she had said and the way she was. He had never known a woman who so truly spoke her mind without any airs of haughtiness. Oh many a woman had been bold in action with him in the past but usually that was just a ploy of seduction. But in the case of Mia she truly just wanted him to know her mind. There was no deception, no game playing. She spoke her mind openly never holding any of herself back no matter how much pain it might cost her. She was caring, gentle and compassionate. All of the qualities that made for a woman he could respect. A woman he could care about.

No, you can’t think that way. No matter how much your face is repaired by her medicine it would never work. How could she ever look at you and not see the monster she had saved from the cliffs that day? And anyway don’t all of those qualities of hers that you enjoy so much show you just how unworthy of her you truly are? You are a monster who can only hurt her someday. You destroy every life you touch. Look at Julia. Look at Basil. You destroyed them. And your own child; you don’t even know if she lives.

He closed his eyes on those thoughts trying to block them out. But his dreams that night were fraught with dark images of the damage he had caused.






As days and then weeks and then months went by, life in the small cottage remained peaceful and quiet. John soon regained his strength and the use of broken limbs again. Mia continued every night to apply the poultice to his face and eventually John had grown to enjoy the feel of her hands against his face and no longer became ill at the thought of it. She was beyond pleased at his progress noting how the redness and swelling had receded completely and all that was left was a mass of scar tissue that faded a little more with each passing week leaving softer feeling skin in its wake. It was true that his face would never hold the same features as they had before but the features that were emerging from his deformity were not as unsightly as he had dreamed them to be.

“This new batch of poultice should be done soon, John. Then it will have to cool and should be ready to use tomorrow night. Just in time too, since we were about out,” Mia said from the position she held beside the stove. She was stirring the concoction and this was the most vital time for it. If it became too thick or remained too thin it would be useless and she would have to start all over.

“Momma,” a cry resounded from the bedroom with muffled sobs joining it.

“I’ll be right there, Sarah.” Mia called out checking the mixture again.

The sobs became louder. “Momma.” Came a choked cry.

Mia turned to John pleading with him. “I can’t leave this now or it will be ruined. Please can you get her?”

John had never once in the several months that he had been there tried to pick the child up or even gotten very close to her. He hated to admit it to Mia but he was afraid that his face would frighten Sarah. Not to mention the fact that looking at the child reminded him of his own child he had lost.

But she was doing this for him. She was making the poultice for him so how could he refuse. He stood and walked into the bedroom, which up until that point he had never stepped foot in, and crossed over to the crib that the small child sat in. He could never even remember holding a child before much less trying to calm one that was crying, but nonetheless something had to be done. He reached down into the crib gently picking Sarah up and pulling her close to him.

Sarah turned brilliant blue eyes towards him and he could see the tears skimming down her cheeks. “Hush now child. Your momma is just in the next room. Shall we go and see her?” he whispered softly trying not to frighten her.

“Momma,” she said in a small pitiful voice and then grabbed onto his shirt burying her crying face in his chest.

He gently rubbed her back like he had seen Mia do on several occasions. “Yes, let us go see her.” Then he made his way back to the small kitchen. “See there is your momma,” he whispered to her.

Sarah peaked out and smiled once she saw her momma standing by the cook stove. “Momma. Bad dream.”

Sarah was barely two years old and was starting to say more words and recently she had been complaining about bad dreams that left her terrified upon waking. John had worried at first if maybe her bad dreams were due to his presence. But Mia assured him that he had never done anything that would account for that. “Ah, Hon, not another one,” Mia said reaching out smoothing the child’s hair with her free hand. “I thought maybe they had fled.”

Sarah just shook her head and scrunched a little closer to John who was still gently stroking her back. “Sarah, it will be fine,” was all he could think to say. What else would a two year old understand anyway? He moved into the small den that faced the kitchen and sat in a rocking chair still holding the child and gently began to rock back and forth as the child’s tears began to subside. All the while he hummed a tune that he wasn’t sure where he had heard before, but all the same it calmed her even more to hear his deep hum and to feel it vibrate through his chest where her head was resting. Within moments she had dozed back off but John did not stop rocking or humming as he hoped her dreams did not turn for the worse again.

From that day on Sarah began seeking John out whenever possible and crawling onto his lap to take her naps and her bad dreams seemed to melt the minute she was in his strong protecting arms.

It mystified him what would possess the child in clinging to him of all people, but as long as she needed him he promised he would not fail her.

[Meluivan Indil]

Chapter 3

Accepting



As time went on John spent most of his days in the forest either hunting or gathering food for them, while Mia worked in the garden she had planted. She was grateful to John for his ability to hunt. She had been worried that when the time came she would not be able to kill an animal for their food. She had lived the months before his arrival eating nothing but vegetables and fruit and was worried what that kind of diet would do to Sarah. They both worked very hard, but they both new that the gain was worth the effort.

Their evenings were a different story though. They spent their evenings relaxing while John told Sarah stories of knights, and dragons and damsels in distress. Or Mia would talk about her father telling Sarah all of the good her grandfather had done for so many people.

“And they lived happily ever after. The End,” John said gracing Sarah with a large crooked smile.

“Oh that one was the best one ever. Please I want to hear another one,” a four-year-old Sarah asked sweetly climbing onto John’s lap.

“Ah don’t you think it is getting late and maybe you should be in bed child?” John asked but his resolve softened as she looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes. “Ask your mother,” he finally said looking away casually. He knew he would not be able to say no but Mia was not as easily won over by those bright smiles and dancing blue eyes as he was.

“Oh but, Papa, she never says yes,” was the plaintive retort that left her lips.

John’s face swung around quickly at the word Papa. Did she really just call me that? When did I become Papa? It has always been John before. But he had to admit the endearment sent shivers of pleasure through him that he had never felt before.

He heard a throat being cleared from the opposite side of the room and looked up to see Mia standing in the doorway smiling at the sight before her. “That is true. I never say yes. And that goes for tonight also. It is off to bed with you child.”

“Oh mother, please. I love the stories and Papa is the best at telling them,” Sarah pleaded.

“And he will be just as good at telling them tomorrow evening as he is tonight, child. Now off you go,” Mia answered walking up to Sarah and kissing her on the forehead.

Sarah obeyed without further resistance but first leaned over giving John a kiss on the cheek and a large hug. “Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, Angel,” he whispered back hoarsely as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him.

After she was safely tucked into bed Mia came back to the den and sat on the floor between the fireplace and John’s chair staring into the fire. The nights had begun to become cold again and it was becoming necessary to keep a fire lit in the small cottage.

John hadn’t said a word for several moments and the silence was beginning to unnerve her. “A penny for your thoughts, John Mannion,” she whispered looking up into his perplexed face.

“She called me Papa, and she kissed my cheek,” he finally said reaching up and rubbing the skin where Sarah had kissed him.

“She loves you a great deal, John.” Mia smiled brightly. It made her happier than she could have ever imagined seeing Sarah attach herself to him. She needed a father figure and Mia could not have picked a better man herself.

“But why? I am nothing to her. With my looks I should frighten her.” John could not figure out why the child would attach herself to him in such a manner.

“Oh, John. When are you going to learn that nothing about you makes you a monster? Not your face. Not your demeanor and certainly not your heart. She sees you as the strongest person she knows. She sees you as her protector. She sees you as the wonderful man who tells her stories and takes her to a world of imagination. A world that is full of adventure and excitement but she always knows that you will keep her safe while there. She hears me speaking of my father all the time and she feels the need to fill that missing role in her life. It is only natural that she would see you as her father. She has no other man present to fill the role and honestly even if there was another man present I believe she would choose you over any other.” Mia had seen this coming for some time now, but she had waited biding her time to see what his reaction was to such a thing. She hoped it would not be as bad as she imagined it could be.

John was silent as his emotions raged and his thoughts threatened to engulf him.

She is just a child. She doesn’t know better. How could she ever realize what kind of man you truly are? She does not know the evil you have done in your life. She does not know the pain and suffering you have caused.

“I do not deserve her love,” he finally whispered.

Mia had turned to face him and looked up at him in confusion, with her head cocked slightly to the side. “Why?”

John looked at Mia. Normally he would have refused to answer that question but her look of open curiosity showed that she truly wanted to understand him. “Mia, neither of you knows the things I have done in my life. Neither of you know the man I was before I came here. I can not be trusted not to hurt those who love me.”

Mia cocked her head the other direction almost as if she was trying to figure out a puzzle and then all of sudden a small humorous smile lit upon her lips. “Is that so? Well I hate to tell you this, John Mannion, but it is not up to you who trusts you and who doesn’t. You might as well face that fact. What is up to you is how hard you try not to betray that trust.”

“Only a fool would trust me,” John grumbled testily. He did not like the humorous tone she was adopting. He was trying to seriously warn them before it was to late and she was finding it all humorous.

Mia heard the warning tone in his voice and nodded once letting all traces of humor drop from her face. She easily moved so she was on her knees before him one hand resting on the arm of his chair the other against her own chest. “Well then, I guess that makes me a fool, too. For I would trust you to the ends of the earth, John Mannion. I would trust you with the care of my only child. I would trust you with the very life beating inside my heart. Do you not see, I already do?”

John sat dumbfounded for a moment and then finally his tongue loosened with the words he felt compelled to say. “Why would you ever trust me like that? What have I ever done to deserve your trust?”

“It’s a million little things that make you who you are, John. It’s the way you are with Sarah. The way you make her feel safe. It’s the way you speak to me. You treat me as an equal, not as just some silly noble woman. It’s in the way you are always looking out for me. You know I get cold easily so you added extra wood to the fire this evening, even though I know you roast when you do so. It’s in every little smile. Every little touch of your hand upon my skin. It’s in every little thing that you do.” She couldn’t believe she was actually saying these words out loud. She had sworn to her self that she would never tell him how she was beginning to feel. But she felt as if her heart would burst if she did not finally get it all out.

John could see the conviction in her eyes as she spoke and he could also see something he had never dreamed to see there. Extreme adoration. He reached out placing his fingertips on the side of her cheek and she turned her face into his touch reveling in it. “What you speak of seems like much more than trust, Mia.”

It was now or never she goaded herself. “What is love, John, but the most ultimate form of trust possible?” she asked reaching her hand up and cupping his own hand in hers pressing it closer to her face where she laid a single solitary kiss upon his open palm.

John shook his head in denial but could not pull his hand away from her lips. “How could you?” The words were filled with as much self-contempt as he could muster. How could she?

“John, I have spent my days and nights with my thoughts filled with you. You have occupied my heart and very soul for such a long time now that I am not sure when I started to love you. I just know with all of my heart I love you and want to spend all of eternity feeling this way.” Mia knew her words might frighten him. They frightened her to a point but she had never lied to him or her self for that matter and was not about to start doing so now.

John slowly pulled his hand from her grasp shaking his head in denial. “Do you realize what you are doing to yourself, Mia? I can not see how any woman could stand to look upon my face for a minute much less all of eternity.” She began to interrupt him but he held one hand out shushing her. “I realize you are not like the women I have known in the past. You don’t see things as others do. But all of that said, I still cannot let you do this to yourself. I am not capable of love, Mia. I have done nothing but destroy the love that was given to me in my life. I don’t want to destroy you too.” Though his voice shook with the effort of saying such things when his heart truly wanted to deny them, he still had no choice but to do this for her own sake.

Mia shook her head as a wry smile covered her lips. “Have your injuries of the past affected your eyesight, John Mannion, or just your perception of both yourself and those around you?” Her words shocked him into complete silence.

“You say I see things differently than most others. Well that is the one thing you have said that is correct. Other women would look at you and see your face as it is, which to them might not be favorable.” He snorted in derision at her understatement but she continued ignoring the sound. She reached out placing one hand on the side of his face cupping his cheek. “I see something completely different. I see a painter’s canvas full of colors, ridges and shapes. But more than that I see what is below that canvas. I see the brilliant light that is your very being shining through as if the painter was able to capture your very soul.”

Her fingers trailed up touching the skin surrounding his eyes. “I see humor and laughter in the lines around your eyes.” Then her fingers trailed down touching his lips tentatively. “I see the warmth and caring of a human being inside your smile. And most of all I see the selfless loving spirit that hides within your soul.” With those words her fingers trailed down his chin and throat finally resting on his chest above his heart. “Even if I could not see these things so readily in your face the very fact that you fear hurting me enough to bear your soul to me shows me that you are much more capable of love than you or I can either imagine. Can’t you see that you are capable of love, John? You just fear that you are not deserving of it.”

John lowered his head so she could not see how the emotions she caused were playing through his eyes. “I am not deserving,” he whispered his voice full of sadness.

Please stop this. His voice cried out inside his mind. Why does it have to hurt so much? Why do her words make my throat constrict withdrawing the very air that I need to survive? And why do I feel as if I might cry? I have not cried since I was a child standing over the grave of my sister. Please stop this pain. He pleaded silently.

Mia reached her hand up pulling his chin up to stare into his eyes. Those eyes that were brimming with tears that she knew he could not shed. But she could shed tears for him and her own eyes swam with the love she felt for this man as tears began to stream down her cheeks unchecked. “You are the only one who thinks you undeserving. I don’t care what you did in your previous life, John. I don’t care who you might have hurt. I don’t care whether you shunned love or embraced it. The only thing that matters to me at all is the hope and prayer I have that you will love me in return.” Without any hesitation she leaned in placing her lips to his gently caressing them with her own.

John froze for a moment feeling her lips upon his, not sure if it was real or his imagination playing tricks on him. But the warmth of her breath against his skin and the soft sweetness of her lips begged him to respond. And respond he did as his lips began to move over hers tasting and testing their softness and feel upon his. He reached out pulling her up and sitting her upon his lap as he deepened the kiss opening his mouth and tasting her lips and tongue letting the emotion of desire take over his entire being as he ran his fingers through her long raven locks.

Her fingers had begun running through his own hair and then continued on down his back trying to feel every part of him she could and then they were back touching his cheeks stroking confidently over his skin.

They parted breathlessly for a moment and she looked down into his eyes which had finally let loose the tears they were holding. She could see his eyes searching her own for any hint that might tell him that this was not what she wanted. There was no reluctance in her eyes, only desire. Desire for him. “Tears are the healers of our heart and soul, my love. Our tears heal each other and make us both stronger together,” she whispered stroking his cheek running her fingers through his tears then leaned closer kissing away his tears tasting the salty moisture.

His lips reclaimed hers again without hesitation as he explored the sweet intoxication that loving her could bring.

With each loving embrace and each kiss they shared John felt the pain in his chest loosen and for the first time in his life he truly felt alive and for once his life belonged to him to do with as he pleased. All of his thoughts of hate and revenge and his former life fled his mind leaving behind only the life he was building there with the two beings he loved the most. And he realized that he truly did love them with all of his heart.





The next morning John stood watching the sunrise for the first time in a long time from their front porch and remembered something she had said to him shortly after he had come to stay with them. She had wished him a brighter morning to dawn. At the time he hadn’t understood her words and that they had meant so much more than a sunrise. But he understood now and would never again take for granted the sunrise or her. Two thin arms snaked around his waist from behind and he turned in her arms looking down at her smiling eyes. “I do believe that is the brightest sunrise I have ever witnessed,” he whispered wrapping his arms around her shoulders pulling her close.

“Everything in life seems so much more wonderful this morning,” she answered stretching up on her toes to place a soft kiss upon his lips.

The kiss was a slow luxurious kiss that neither deepened nor slackened but instead just lingered on both their lips as if they feared ever letting the other one go. Eventually he broke the kiss nuzzling her neck and then resting his chin on her shoulder. “Will you ever forgive me?” he whispered into her ear.

Mia stiffened slightly fearing that he was going to continue his arguments against their relationship. She could not say anything it paralyzed her so with fear.

He drew back sensing her distress and stared into her frightened face. He knew immediately what was terrifying her. “I was the fool. I made you wait so long for me when in my heart I had fallen in love with you from the very beginning.”

Mia heard the words and her heart melted just as she melted into his arms. “I will forgive you, if you promise to love me forever, John and to never let either of our pasts interfere with that love.”

“That I can do. That I most certainly can do,” he whispered drawing her into his arms where he wanted to keep her forever.

[Meluivan Indil]

Chapter 4

Disaster




It wasn’t long after Mia and John declared their love for each other that they traveled to a nearby town that had a small parish priest that agreed to wed them. The ceremony itself was nothing large or all that festive, for as far as the three people involved were concerned they were already a family and it was nothing more than a formality for appearances sake, but John had insisted that he would do nothing to ruin Mia’s good name.

They spent the next six years living in peaceful comfort in their small cottage never letting the world outside their forest even enter their lives or their minds. Oh, on a few occasions Mia had attempted to discover the past that John so hated to discuss. For the most part though John just explained that in the name of revenge he had done something terrible that had truly wounded a man that he had come to see as a close friend. In doing so he had also brought about pain and suffering to a former lover, who eventually died in childbirth. Their child, he explained. That point had shocked Mia more than anything. John had a child out there somewhere that he said he had only seen once directly after her birth. John assured her that even though at times he wondered what happened to the child and prayed that she would live a much better life than he had, he knew that there was no way he could have provided for the child as he was when she was born.

All in all he would have had to say that their life was perfect until one fateful night that changed life for them completely.

“Momma!” The terrified scream echoed throughout the cottage waking them both with a start.

John was out of the bed that he and Mia shared and had the bedroom door flung open within seconds of waking. But the sight that greeted him was a father’s worst nightmare. He hadn’t noticed the smoke or the heat emanating from the door as he opened it. But now standing in the doorway he was faced with the horror of a rolling fire billowing through their den. Sarah had backed away from the fire into a corner and was completely surrounded on all sides by the flames that were eating away at their lives.

Mia could also see the flames from where she stood behind him. There was a clear path to the cottage door but not one leading to Sarah. “Oh god, John,” she whimpered.

“Papa, help!” Sarah screamed seeing her parents so near but not having any way to reach them.

John immediately turned grabbing the quilt from their bed and then dumped the full washbasin from their dresser onto it. “Get out, Mia. I’ll get Sarah,” he called over the roaring noise of the fire.

Mia reluctantly obeyed him moving across the den to the door opening it but not leaving as John covered himself with the wet blanket and rushed through the fire towards their child. Burning timbers were falling all around them and the smoke was becoming so thick that he could barely see her now, but still he leapt over burning furniture almost stumbling to the ground when a falling timber struck his back from above. But he kept moving knowing that Sarah’s life depended on his forward motion. He could not have expressed his gratitude when his hand finally landed on her arm and she dove into his arms crying.

He hugged her close once before finally forcing her away so he could see her face. “You must calm down, Sarah. We are going to get out of here alive, but you must have your head about you, child.”

Sarah immediately began to sniffle trying to stop her tears and stood a little straighter to be brave for her father. She nodded when she was ready to listen.

“Okay. I’m going to wrap this quilt around you and I’ll carry you out of here, Sarah. You have to stay calm and don’t move in my arms. I have to go fast. Can you do that?” he asked hoping she would not panic and struggle as he took her out of there.

She nodded again and he smiled at her wrapping the quilt around her and picking her up. He looked up once seeing that there was little time left as the roof threatened to fall on top of them then he began the mad dash to the door. He thought to himself how funny it seemed that a room that looked so small once looked upon on a daily basis could seem as huge as a cathedral when those you love are threatened.

Once to the door he set Sarah down on her feet and pushed Mia and she out the door. He looked back just once at what was left of the home they had shared and then made for the door himself. But that one second of indecision cost him dearly when the roof finally collapsed as he was diving for the door. He felt the burning timber strike his back just as he heard Mia’s terrified scream. She was to him in seconds pushing the beam from atop him and pulling him away from the house. They collapsed several yards from the house in pure exhaustion.

As the sun arose on the burnt out shell of their home Mia worked furiously to try to treat the burns on his back. None of them were so severe that she feared any lasting problems, but she knew the pain must have been excruciating. She had managed to salvage a few sets of cloths for them from the laundry line that she had luckily forgotten to empty the day before but other than that nothing else was worth saving.

Sarah sat on the ground in front of her father leaning back against him and John had wrapped his arms around her trying to ward off the cold of the morning air. Mia was sitting behind him cleaning the burns on his back and tearing up a sheet to use for bandages.

“What will we do, Papa?” Sarah finally asked what was on all of their minds.

John stared at what was left of their home and then at the forest surrounding them. He knew what they would have to do but in his heart he regretted the decision more than any he had made in years. “It is too late in the year to try to rebuild now. The first snow is almost upon us.” Mia moved around so she could sit facing him but close enough to touch him if she felt the need. “We’ll have to go to one of the larger cities.”

Mia’s face fell as she found it necessary to stare at her hands resting in her lap. She knew what that would mean for him. Towns brought with them ignorant people who might not be as accepting of a man whose face was scarred, no matter what type of person he was. “Which town?”

John stared off into the distance wondering what course of action he should take. London would offer the most opportunity and the most anonymity due to its size. But what if I run into Basil there? No, surely Basil would stay away from London with his father living there and that old man would never recognize me. It would be below him to even look at someone of my class. “London, I do believe,” he finally declared.

“Are you sure?” Mia asked her voice tinged with worry.

“Everything will be fine, my love. I promise,” he answered offering her a smile reaching out to stroke her cheek offering as much comfort as he could. “We’ll have to use a different last name. Mannion would not be safe.”

“We can use Marshall,” Mia suggested. John looked strangely at her and she realized what he must think. “I forgot to tell you. Marshall was my father’s name. I stopped using my first husbands name before Sarah was born.”

John nodded in understanding. Mia had not mentioned her first husband since the first time they had spoken of him and John had gotten the feeling then that the man was not a subject she liked to talk about. “Marshall it is.”

Mia leaned in wrapping her arms loosely around both of them just needing to be reassured by their presence.

So with only a few sets of clothing and themselves piled into a horse and open carriage they made the cold damp trip to London.



“How much?” Mia asked as John rejoined them outside the livery.

“Enough for a room and some food for a couple of weeks only,” John answered tucking the money he had received from selling their carriage and horse into his pocket. “He also told me a place we could stay that won’t be so bad for Sarah.” They had both worried about Sarah staying in their room alone as they looked for work.

“Two weeks. Not much time.” Mia knew she would easily be able to find employment as a ladies maid, but for John it would have to be either the docks or the sawmill. Both jobs were very hard, but he did not have the option of doing what he was trained to do as a bookkeeper. If anyone from his former life were to recognize him it would only cause problems for them.

“We’ll make it,” John insisted.

“What can I do to help, Papa?” Sarah asked seeing how worried her mother was. “I’m sure there is some job I can do to help us.”

John bent down on one knee so he was eye to eye with his young daughter. “Yes, My Angel. There is a very important job for you. More important than either your mother or I as a matter fact.”

Sarah’s eyes widened in astonishment. What could she do that would be more important than either of them? “What is it, Papa?”

“The man at the livery told me that there is a school not two blocks from the rooms that I intend to let. You my dear child are going to attend that school.” John said it as if it was the most important task in the world to be accomplished.

“School, but Father that is not a job.” Sarah complained placing both hands upon her hips and he knew he was in trouble when she used the word Father instead of Papa.

He reached out encircling her waist and pulled her close to him so they were almost nose-to-nose. “My dear child. You are our future. Don’t you understand that you must go to school and receive a proper education so that you have a smart mind and clever wit? Those two things will get you farther ahead in this world than either your mother or I will ever manage. That is your job. And it is more important than anything else you could do.”

Sarah sighed deeply leaning her forehead against her fathers. “If you insist I must...”

John could not help laughing at her comment or the urge to tickle her for it.

[Meluivan Indil]

Chapter 5

Fighting



Sarah stood outside the Wicks Public School leaning on the fence that separated it from the Winchester Preparatory School for Gifted Children. She thought it was immensely funny that the two schools were butted up right next to each other separated only by a four-foot tall fence and more money than she could ever imagine. She had learned her first day of school that the poor peasant children went to Wicks while the rich upper class children went to Winchester. Gifted children had nothing to do with it. It was just a fancy name for a brand new fancy school. Wicks, on the other hand, was a much smaller older building that was in great need of repairs. But that worked out just fine anyhow since her father was able to convince the headmaster to hire him to do repairs.

Sarah loved having her father working there. She often caught a glimpse of him and it brought her a sense of comfort that she hadn’t had the first few days. Wicks was the first official school that she had attended. Her mother had taught her to read and write and do simple math and a small amount of history and as much about healing as she could remember from assisting her father. But still Sarah felt inferior to the other students who had been going to Wicks for several years now. The few times that she had spoken across the fence to a Winchester student had shown her a whole new sense of inferiority though. The Winchester girls looked down upon her and her fellow students like they were dirt and that irked Sarah to no end. Her mother had always tried to teach her a sense of fairness and had stressed how god had created them all as equal, but now she was learning that though god had created them equal, England had changed the rules that god set forth.

She sighed deeply as she noticed three Winchester girls approaching her from the other side of the fence. “Not today,” she grumbled to herself. She was already unhappy over a poor exam score and now this.

“No matter how hard you stare, it will never make you belong.” One of the Winchester girls said in a humorous tone.

Sarah snorted at the statement. “Why would I want something as unpleasant as that to happen?”

The girl who had spoken found that to be truly funny and started laughing but it was not a humorous laugh but more a frightening one. “Face it. Who wouldn’t want to be one of us?”

“That depends, if I was one of you would I have to use that silly accent of yours?” Sarah new she was doing exactly what she shouldn’t be doing in goading the other girl, but it felt good to give a little of what they deserved back to them.

“Marge, common. We are gonna get in trouble messing with her.” One of the other girls in the trio said. Sarah noticed that she was taller and thinner then the other two but she looked sickly to her with her pale skin and drab brown hair.

“Clara, you worry too much. If anyone gets in trouble it will be her,” Marge answered smiling brightly.

“That’s right. I forgot. It’s impossible for the high and mighty Winchester girls to get into any trouble, isn’t it?” Sarah said in a voice filled with mock grandeur.

“Stow it. Someone’s coming,” the third girl said turning towards the other two.

Sarah turned in time to see her father approaching them. The scarf that he normally wore covering his scars had fallen down around his throat but he quickly pulled it up hoping not to frighten the girls his daughter was speaking to.

“Is everything okay, Sarah?” he asked stopping beside her.

She gave him a bright smile that she hoped did not look too false. “Fine. I’m just talking to these girls about their school.”

“I’m glad you’re making friends. I know the first couple of weeks of school can be the hardest,” he said nodding happily. “I have to get back to work. I’ll see you later.”

Sarah just nodded and watched as her father walked away. She sighed deeply in relief. She really did not want to have to explain to her father why she was bad-mouthing the three other girls. She waited for him to round the school and then turned back to the three girls. Marge had turned to the third girl, and was whispering something in her ear that seemed to be very humorous. The other girl, Clara, stood to the side frowning at what she had overheard her friend whisper.

“Is something funny?” Sarah asked squinting slightly. She had a bad feeling about this.

Marge laughed once more and then spoke up. “You know, you can tell how poor a school really is when they have to hire freaks like that to work there.”

Sarah’s small hands balled into fists at those words and for the first time in her life she truly felt like hurting another person. “Take it back,” she demanded.

A strange incredulous look crossed Marge’s face. “What?”

“I .. Said.. Take .. It.. Back!” She paused between each word giving it more emphasis and then clamped her mouth shut gritting her teeth waiting for her response.

“What does it matter to you? He’s just some freak, handy man anyway.” The third girl spouted not able to keep from laughing again.

“Not that it is any of your business, but that man so happens to be my father,” Sarah ground out in clipped angry words. “And he is the greatest man alive.”

The two girls that had been arguing with her broke out into hysterical laughter while the third stood back in uncomfortable silence.

“Well no wonder you look so weird. Tell me does your mother put a paper bag over his head so you can bear to eat a meal together?” Marge crooned.

“No, that’s what she had to do so they could conceive her,” the third girl piped up adding yet another insult.

This was more than Sarah could stand. Before she even knew what she was doing she had scaled the fence and pounced on top of the two laughing girls. She had never felt rage before in her life, but at that moment it did not matter to her who she hit as long as she was hurting someone else.

The two upper class girls had not expected such a bold action and were helpless to defend themselves. The third girl, Clara decided that even though her friends probably deserved to be hit for the awful things they had said, she could not just sit back and watch them get beat up. She tried to grab the Wicks girl from behind but that soon gained her a punch in the mouth. She began to strike back wanting to show that she could hold her own, but the fight was broken up by a couple of Winchester teachers who had seen the commotion and come running.

Once the teachers had gotten Sarah’s attention she stopped struggling. “You girl. What are you doing here? You’re a Wicks girl aren’t you?”

Sarah nodded. It was obvious by the uniform she wore.

“She attacked us. We were just standing here talking to her and she went crazy. Climbed over the fence and started hitting us.” Marge was very good at deflecting punishment on others.

“Well, we will see about this. You and I young lady are going to go talk to your headmaster,” the teacher said pulling her roughly towards the gate that separated the two schools.

Sarah froze at his words. She hadn’t thought of that. If she got in trouble with the headmaster her father might lose his job. She didn’t care if she was kicked out of the school, but she could not ruin this job for her father. If she did he would have to take a much harder job that might end up hurting him someday. “No I can’t go to the headmaster!”

“You should have thought about that before you started a fight, child,” the teacher scolded grabbing her arm even harder with bruising force as she started to struggle to get free of him.

“I promise. I won’t do it again. Please don’t take me to the headmaster,” she begged.

The teacher continued to fight with her trying to pull her through the gate any way possible but Sarah was again like a demon possessed. She finally managed to slip through his grip and headed straight for the street scrambling over the fence and running straight for home.





“Sarah!” John yelled immediately as he entered the rooms they were renting.

Mia was next to him in seconds. She had a very frightened look on her face. “John, what happened at school today?”

John looked at her in confusion. “Where’s Sarah?”

“She’s in her bedroom, hiding behind her bed. She’s been crying ever since she got home. I can’t get her to say anything to me,” Mia explained. “John, what happened? I’ve never seen her this distraught before.”

“Come with me,” he said heading for Sarah’s bedroom with Mia on his heels.

When he opened the door he had planned to be very strict with Sarah after the meeting he’d just had with the school headmaster, but when he saw her tear streaked face come up off her knees and the way she trembled with the sobs that would not stop, he just did not have the heart to do anything to punish her. He forced himself not to rush over and take her in his arms to comfort her, but instead took a seat on her bed facing her. Mia stood with uncertainty by the bedroom door. “Would you like to tell me what happened today?”

Sarah rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and sniffled a few times trying to stop the tears. “I… I did a bad thing, Papa. I’m so sorry, Papa. I didn’t want to cost you your job. I just couldn’t help myself. They were so mean and hateful.” The words poured out of her mouth in a rush as the sobs started in again.

“The headmaster says you beat up three girls from the Winchester school.” John said in a knowing tone. “I’m assuming it was the three girls I saw you talking with.”

Mia gasped in shock. “Sarah, fighting. That is not like you at all!”

“No, I said she beat them up. None of them even got in one punch according to the teacher from Winchester,” John explained.

Sarah whimpered at that. She hadn’t really thought about it. She had done what she did out of pure instinct and rage and it all seemed fuzzy to her now. “I don’t want to hurt people, Papa. But the things that two of them were saying... I just reacted without thinking.”

John couldn’t imagine what would send his loving daughter into such a rage but Mia had started to have a sneaking suspicion. “Sarah, what were they saying?”

John turned to stare at Mia. “It doesn’t matter what they said, Mia. It’s no excuse to do something so deplorable.” He had seen what pure rage could drive a person to do and he was afraid to see that kind of monster emerging in his daughter.

“No it is not an excuse. But listen and you might understand better,” Mia warned.

John gave her a look of confusion but the look she shot back begged him to listen. He turned back to Sarah and waited patiently.

Sarah could see that they were waiting for her to answer. She swallowed hard looking at the two people she loved most in the world and hated the idea of repeating the things that were said about her father. But she knew she would not get out of it now.

She looked down at her knees not wanting to see the reaction on her father’s face. “After you left one of them said something about the school being so poor that they had to hire …” she paused as her throat constricted on the word.

John breathed deeply guessing what the next word would be, but he knew he’d have to force her to say it for her own good. They’d have to deal with this sooner or later. It was best to get it over with sooner. “Go on.”

“A freak like you.” Sarah whispered as the tears began to slide down her cheeks again.

Mia closed her eyes making a face and then moved over to sit beside John on the bed. “What else?”

“I told her to take it back,” Sarah cried out pitifully. “She just made fun of me and asked why I cared. I told her that he was my father and that made it worse. They just kept saying stuff. Well two of them did. The third girl didn’t say anything. But she didn’t try to stop them either.”

“So you did what you did because they were teasing you about me?” John asked wanting to make sure of her exact motives.

“Oh, Papa. I don’t care if they tease me. They were teasing me before you ever came over and talked to us. But I couldn’t let them talk that way about you. They don’t know you. They don’t have any right to say horrible things about you,” she tried to explain.

John smiled. He knew he shouldn’t be proud of his daughter for such a thing, but she was in a way defending his honor by doing what she did and he could not help the warm feeling it gave him. He tried to straighten the smile on his face and take a serious attitude. “Sarah, even though I love you with all my heart and it makes me so very happy to know that you would defend me, you went about this all the wrong way. We cannot just barrel through those that upset us. We must talk to them and try to work out our problems. You could have seriously hurt one of those girls today. How would that have made you feel?”

Sarah thought for a moment and then decided. “If it had been one of the two who talked about you, I might have been happy at first.”

“Sarah!” John warned.

She managed to look dejected. “But later I would have felt awful. And I guess I would have felt awful all-together if I had hurt the other girl. She was just trying to help her friends. Papa, did you get in trouble?”

“Well since you were not on Wicks’ property I did not lose my job, but we have to attend a meeting at Winchester tomorrow with the parents of the other girls. Sarah, you do realize that they can sue me for damages that you did to their daughters. I will have to do some serious fancy talking to get us out of this,” he explained.

“I’m sorry, Papa. I’m so sorry. I will do anything to make it better,” Sarah insisted.

“Good, because the first thing you will do during that meeting is apologize to those three girls,” he warned.

Sarah scrunched up her face in disgust but did not comment.

“Now come on. Get up from there and come eat some supper. All that crying must have made you hungry.” John reached over the bed and helped her to stand. Sarah reached down grabbing the shirtsleeve of her school uniform and pulled it up using it to wipe the tears from her face and eyes. John’s eyes went wide as he reached out and stopped her from pulling the sleeve back down. “I thought none of them hit you,” he said angrily looking at the dark bruises that were forming on her upper arm.

Sarah looked down at the bruise and had to think for a minute. “Oh, they didn’t. The teacher from Winchester did that trying to pull me through the gate back to Wicks. I was pulling against him and he had a pretty tight grip. I was so afraid that you’d lose your job if he turned me into the headmaster.”

John had to force the growl in his throat not to surface as he thought about an adult manhandling his child in that way. He reached over and checked the other arm and both shoulders seeing many more bruises. “Listen, Sarah. No matter what you had done, no teacher had the right to do that to you and I won’t stand for it.” His voice held a deadly edge that surprised Sarah but she knew better than to question him on it.






“This is outrageous.” Basil’s wife Clara said looking at her adoptive daughter. She had become the mother that the young girl lacked a little less than a year before when she married Basil. It had flattered her that Basil had named his daughter after her. It had showed her just how much he had thought of her as they grew up as best friends in childhood.

Basil sat in his chair by the fire inspecting the bloody lip that his daughter was sporting. “How exactly did this happen, Clara?”

“Marge and Beth were teasing a girl from Wicks. She got angry and jumped the fence attacking them. I tried to get her off of them and she hit me,” Clara explained again.

“One girl, beat up you, and two of your friends,” Basil could not help his urge to laugh. That must be one tough little girl.

“Yes, but I feel sorry for her,” Clara admitted sitting on the footstool in front of her father’s chair.

Her mother’s eyes widened in shock and Basil adopted a humorous smile. “Why would you feel sorry for the girl who hit you?”

“Because if Marge and Beth had been saying stuff about you like they were her father, I would have wanted to hit them too,” she answered sighing heavily. “I mean it’s not his fault his face is all scarred. They shouldn’t have said the stuff that they did.”

Basil sat up quickly. “His face was scarred,” he asked anxiously.

Clara moved back a little uncomfortably at her father’s insistent question. “Yes, from his lips down. I think he was probably a very handsome man at one time, but now… Well it’s just sad.”

Basil put one hand over his mouth and adopted a look of concentration. Could it really be? They never found his body. Most thought it washed out to sea, but maybe. “Do you know his name, Clara?”

“No Sir. But her name is Sarah Marshall,” Clara answered.

“Do you know this man, Basil?” his wife asked.

Basil looked at his wife and then at his daughter... Correct that; John’s daughter. He had never told Clara that he was not her real father. With both of her parents thought dead he never saw any reason to do so. “I might. You remember my old friend John, don’t you?” he answered her as vaguely as possible hoping she would understand why he was speaking so.

The older Clara nodded once but her face went slightly pale. “I thought you said he died in a fall from a cliff.”

“I thought he did, but the description that Clara just gave sounds very familiar,” Basil explained. “But I’ve been wrong before.”

“Well you can find out tomorrow, father. Mr. Marshall is supposed to come to a meeting at our school with all of our parents to talk about what happened.” Clara had no idea the effect this would have on her father but he too seemed to look white as a ghost. “Are you alright father?

“Yes my dear. Just please don’t say anything to anyone about this until I get a chance to meet Mr. Marshall,” he instructed.

One thought floated through his mind. What will I do if it is him?

[Meluivan Indil]

Author’s Note: Due to the fact that neither the movie nor the book by Wilkie Collins ever mentions Basil’s surname I am giving him one that I have made up. Sorry if it does not sound right. I’m not sure about English noble names.



Chapter 6

Meetings and Threats

John was beyond nervous. He had spoken to people conducting business meetings hundreds of times in his life, but for the first time he was worried how a meeting would go. Sarah was also nervous he could see. He gave her a small encouraging smile as they walked into the Winchester headmaster’s office. The room was set up with comfort in mind first with several chairs and couches positioned throughout the room. John noticed two girls standing on one side of the room whispering to each other while the third was on the opposite side of the room next to the fireplace talking to a man who, was seated in a chair facing away from the door.

Sarah whispered to him. “Those two are the ones who said the bad things.”

John just nodded pulling the scarf that covered his lower face tighter and waited for the headmaster to approach him. It wasn’t long before the headmaster and two other men approached him. “Mr. Marshall. I am Andrew Billings. I’m the headmaster here. This is Mr. Thomas Conklin and Mr. Philippe Arnold, two of the girls’ fathers.” He did not bother to introduce the girls, the other father or the teacher that was standing behind his desk in the corner.

John offered his hand in greeting to the men but only Mr. Billings accepted it while the other two looked down at him distastefully. “Can we get this over with?” Conklin demanded.

“Sir, first my Sarah has something she would like to say to your daughters.” John said in as strong a voice as he could muster.

Everyone except the man who was sitting by the fire stared at Sarah in anticipation. The girls all came forward and John could see black eyes, bruised lips and noses all around.

Sarah’s mouth felt like it was full of cotton, but she had promised her father that she would do this and she had never broken a promise to him. She looked up at the girls and still felt anger looking at the two who had talked about her father. She then looked to the third, Clara, and could see a supportive look on her face, almost even a smile. Sarah nodded and cleared her voice. “I wish to apologize to all three of you for my deplorable actions from yesterday. I had no right to take my anger out on any of you and should have used better judgment. I hope you can forgive my foolishness.”

John smiled at his daughter’s speech. It was good. Better than if he had coached her. This might work after all.

“I guess that is supposed to make everything better, Marshall,” Conklin sneered in anger.

John shook his head in disappointment. “Sir, I would like to say a few things, but I hope not to be interrupted while doing so and maybe we can come to an understanding concerning all of this.”

“Go ahead, John. We are listening,” a voice spoke coming from the man sitting in the chair by the fire. John squinted at the back of the man’s head. That voice. No, it can’t be. With that thought the man stood and turned walking around the chair and closer to the group of people.

John stood dumbfounded. Oh what have I gotten myself into? Of all the children, why did you have to hit her, Sarah? John looked at Clara for a moment and sighed heavily. All he could do was go on with what he had planned. “Basil, nice to see you again,” he nodded in a sign of respect. He could not ruin this. If he had to run later he would, but now he had to smooth things over. Basil just nodded with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

“You already know Mr. Regis, then.” Mr. Brinkley said nodding respectfully at Basil.

“Yes, we are old acquaintances,” John answered still staring at Basil. “Gentlemen, as you all know by now I work at the Wicks school. Yesterday I happened upon my daughter speaking to your daughters and thought nothing of the situation. It seems after I departed, two of the young ladies had some disparaging remarks to make about me. Sarah here took offense and did what she saw as defending her father. Though I do not condone such actions, I do understand where her emotions were. I ask you to do the same thing for her.” John finished his small speech and waited for reactions.

Mr. Arnold snorted in derision. “Do you need your daughter to fight your battles for you, Marshall?”

John bit his lip not wanting to say what he truly wanted to. “No, Mr. Arnold. I do not.” John made a decision then and there that he hoped would help his daughter’s case. “Though in my situation it is not hard to see why my child would see the need to defend me,” he answered reaching up and unwinding the scarf that covered his lower face.

Gasps were heard throughout the room and then an uncomfortable silence.

“Listen, where we have lived since Sarah was a babe was a very secluded area. She never had to deal with the prejudices that my face may cause until we came here a few weeks ago. It is not her fault that she was not prepared for your daughters’ comments. I take full responsibility for not warning her that something like this could happen. She is genuinely grieved by her actions and I promise that nothing like this will ever happen again.” It was his only hope. He knew that if these men wanted they could drum his entire family out of town or worse for his daughter actions.

Conklin and Arnold both traded looks that did not bode well for him but John stared only at Basil. He knew that the other two would do exactly as Basil told them to do, for he was higher nobility than they.

Clara moved over by her father and stared up at him. She whispered something in his ear and Basil looked at her questioningly as she smiled up at him.

“Gentlemen. I believe Ms. Marshall. I do not think any thing like this will ever happen again and do believe that we can forgive her, her transgressions this time.” Basil had not taken his eyes from John.

The two other girls began to argue but their father’s shushed them nodding to Basil.

“Thank you, Gentlemen. You are too gracious.” John answered smiling at them.

“Well then, that concludes this meeting,” Mr. Brinkley said starting to usher them out the door.

John stood where he was until Arnold, Conklin and their daughters were gone. “There is one more thing I need to take care of, Mr. Brinkley.”

Brinkley froze waiting for whatever the strange man would say. One of Basil’s eyebrows shot up questioningly.

“Sarah, is that the teacher you mentioned last night?” John asked motioning to the teacher behind the desk. She just nodded.

“Mr. Collins is one of our best teacher’s here, Mr. Marshall.” Brinkley said seeing the angry look in his eyes.

Collins moved out from behind Brinkley’s desk. “What’s this about?”

John casually walked over to Collins placing himself within a foot of the other man. “Sir, I have to suffer with the scars upon my face everyday, but my daughter will not suffer from scars being put upon her if I have anything to do with it. Sarah, roll up your sleeves.” Sarah silently did as she was commanded so everyone present could see the bruises covering her upper arms and shoulder’s.

Clara immediately crossed over to the other girl. “Oh my those are horrible,” she exclaimed “Do they hurt?” Sarah just nodded waiting for her father to continue. She knew better than to interrupt him when he was angry.

“Sir, if I ever see you lay another hand on my daughter, or for that matter any child again, I will make sure you live to regret your actions.” The threat was spoken with such malice that Collins took a step back as if he had been slapped.

Basil had moved closer to the girls so he could see the bruises better and he had to admit that if she was his daughter he would have not been able to refrain from killing the teacher. He could see in the set of John’s jaw that it was taking as much restraint as he possessed not to hurt the man before him. “Mr. Brinkley. I do not see a future at Winchester for Mr. Collins. A man with such little self restraint has no business working with children.”

John gave Basil an astonished look but did not comment on his words. “Come, Sarah. Your mother will be waiting for us at home.” Then he collected his daughter and left the room behind.

Basil and Clara followed them from the school and when they reached the street Basil had caught up to them. “John, I would like to have a word with you. If you don’t mind.”

John stopped in his tracks. This is not at all what he wanted. He wanted to get home where he could sit in silence and think about everything that was happening. This was too much, too soon for him. But he could not run like a frightened child. “Sarah, head on home. Tell your mother I’ll be there soon.”

“Clara, please wait in the carriage for me,” Basil instructed.

Clara looked at Sarah once smiling. “I’m glad you didn’t get in too much trouble,” she said waving and then headed back to their carriage. Sarah looked in confusion at the girl and then shrugged turning to head home.

John stood watching Sarah walk away waiting for Basil to speak.

“You are looking pretty good for a dead man, John,” Basil finally said standing but a few inches away, not wanting their conversation to be overheard.

“Yes well. You never know what wonders a good healer can accomplish when given a seemingly hopeless patient.” John did not look at Basil. His emotions were too much of a mixed up jumble. He was slightly afraid that if he looked at him he might be tempted to strike the man. What kind of example would that be for Sarah or Clara for that matter. Ah Clara. There was not doubt in his mind exactly whose child she was. She looked so much like Julia.

“You know, it seems to me that something is not adding up here. Sarah is the same age as Clara, is she not?” Basil asked in curiosity.

“Actually, she is a year older than Clara. She is my stepchild, Basil.” John swallowed hard. What is he getting at?

“Ah, you see how I must feel then, can’t you John?” Basil asked in an overly nice voice.

John let the words shift through his head and then realized exactly what Basil was getting at. He swung around facing him an astonished look on his face. “Basil, I have no proof that Clara is my child. You and I both know that. Just as we both know that she in fact is. But don’t ever let that give you the impression that I would try to take her from you even if I could. You have done a fine job raising her. Better than I would have been able to.” John paused there letting his eyes fall in slight embarrassment. “It has taken me too many wasted years to discover true happiness Basil, and the idea that someone could come along and take that all from me frightens me beyond anything else in this world. I could not do that to you or to her. We have all lost too much in this life already, don’t you think?”

Basil listened to his words but could not be sure if they were real or just another of his games, but he decided for then to let things go as they were. Besides he needed more information before he could make any real decisions about the man before him. “Yes, we have all lost quite a lot haven’t we?”

“Basil, I have no quarrel with you. I have put behind me the demons that used to posses me. I just want to live my life the best that I can. Please, just let me do that.” John had never begged for anything in his life, but he had never had so much to lose before either.

Basil nodded turning to walk away. But he turned back as if he had forgotten something. “John, you say you have changed. And I hope that is true. But just in case, I will be watching you.”

[Meluivan Indil]

Chapter 7

The Search For Truth



When did this happen? When did I start fearing that man? I remember a time when I was the one in control. He did everything as I asked him to without question. Now look at me. Just the sight of him sends chills down my spine. It’s disgusting.

John was completely lost in his thoughts as he entered their rooms and did not notice the worried look on Mia’s face.

“John?” she asked stepping up beside him.

He looked up startled and the look in his eyes said more than enough. Mia looked over to where Sarah was sitting at their table and then back at John smiling and giving him a look that said ‘We shall talk tonight.’ “So Sarah says the meeting went well.”

He knew the way he must look to her and hated the idea of looking weak in front of her. He gave her a half-hearted grin. “Yes, everything will be fine now.”

Sarah had been listening to there conversation as she finished up her dinner. “You know what’s strange though?”

Mia squeezed John’s hand and then turned to her daughter. “What was strange, Sarah?”

“That girl, Clara, the one who didn’t have anything to do with saying those horrible things,” Sarah said then ate her last bite of food.

Mia did not miss the sharp intake of breath behind her but did not turn to look at her husband. “What do you find so strange about her?”

“I think she asked her father to be lenient on me. Papa, you saw her whisper something to him before he told the others not to punish me. Even though I busted her lip she still stood up for me. That’s what I find strange, Mother.” Sarah had stood and removed her plate from the table to the sink.

John knew Sarah would expect him to reply but what could he say. True she was right. Clara had been very gracious to them and was probably the reason that they had gotten off so easily. But he could not tell Sarah that it was more likely because her father was afraid that he would tell her the truth about her parentage than anything the girl had actually said to Basil.

Sarah turned around looking at her father waiting for him to reply. “Papa, are you feeling well?” she finally asked as he just stared off towards the back of their apartment.

He shook his head as if to clear the cobwebs from his mind. “I’ll be fine, Sarah. I’m just really tired today. I think I’ll head off to bed early.”

Sarah and Mia both watched him leave, both with similar looks of concern on their face. “Sarah, can you clean this up for me, Hon? I want to make sure your father is feeling well.”

“Yes, Mother,” Sarah answered walking over and kissing her mother’s cheek. “Do you think he’s sick?” she asked before her mother could leave.

“Maybe, but I’ll figure it out. Don’t you worry, Hon,” Mia said hugging her daughter and then turning to follow her husband.

When she entered their room she could see John sitting in near darkness on the edge of their bed with his head in his hands. She crossed the room lighting a candle beside their bed and then sat next to John on the bed.

He looked up to her face and several emotions slipped across his face. “I made you a promise once and now I’m afraid that it will be broken by circumstances beyond my control,” he finally admitted.

Mia sighed heavily. There was only one promise he had ever made to her that was important enough to cause him so much worry. “Your past is catching up with us?”

He stood pacing across the room and then turned to face her as he leaned against the wall. He was partially hidden in the shadows, which disturbed Mia. She wondered if maybe he was hiding from her.

After a long pause he opened his mouth and the first thing to come out of his mouth was the most surprising thing she could ever imagine. “I met my other daughter today.”

Mia’s eyes widened in astonishment, but she kept her mouth shut waiting for him to continue.

“Her name is Clara. The girl that Sarah was talking about.” He paused for a moment after that hating the words he knew he had to speak. “Mia, the man who did this to my face is raising her as his daughter.”

A strangled cry left Mia’s lips against her will. They had never discussed how he received those injuries before. She had assumed that who ever had done it to him was either locked in a prison somewhere or that John had killed him. Never had she imagined that the man was free and caring for the daughter that John had lost. “That… that is... John how did this happen?”

John Knew that he should have told Mia the story long before but he had always thought that it did not matter to them. “He was there when she was born. Hell, Mia, I’m not going to lie to you. He was married to her mother. I was the one who was in the wrong. It was all part of my plans for revenge against the man who ruined my family. His father. I just never imagined that Basil would take her and raise her as his own, knowing that she was my child. He hated me more than any man alive.”

Mia sat in silence for a moment. She was tempted to make him tell the entire story but she could tell by the slump of his shoulders that this was all becoming too much for him. “John come here,” she whispered.

He did not move. “Mia, I don’t know what to do,” he whispered from the shadows.

Mia stood and walked to where he stood and then reached out one hand grasping his in her own. “You don’t have to face this alone, love.”

He could see her face in the soft candlelight. There was no reproachful look. There was no anger and no disappointment in her eyes like he had feared. There was just love and as much strength as she could offer him.

He moved forward and she could see the pain and confusion apparent in his eyes once he reached the glow of the candlelight. She immediately wrapped her arms around his waist pulling him close. “You are not alone, John. I’ll never let you be alone.”

John let the warmth and comfort she offered him sink into every pour of his body and soul holding on to her like a lifeline. “I don’t know what is going to happen, Mia. I don’t know what he is going to do.”

“Whatever he does, we will face it together,” she whispered.

“But if he tries to destroy me…. I couldn’t bare for him to hurt you or Sarah,” John admitted. “You’d be safer if I wasn’t in your life, Mia.”

Mia pulled out of his arms looking crossly at him. “John Mannion. I will not let you break your promise to me. So don’t you even think of speaking like that. Whatever that man throws at us, we will face it together, and I swear to you, I would die before I ever allowed him to destroy the love between us.”

John stared at the only woman he had ever allowed to touch his heart and understood why she of anyone had been able to do so. Never had he witnessed such fierce determination to save a love, a love that had taken him so long to accept but her only a moment to offer.

“Together then,” he whispered clutching her tightly to him letting her strength infuse his tortured soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
That same night at Basil’s home.


“Sir, there is a Detective Sutterfield here to see you,” Basil was interrupted by his butler.

“Thank you, Jenkins. I’ve been expecting him. Send him in.” Basil had not been able to resist the urge to find out just what John was up to. It was so hard to let old suspicions just die.

A small man in a brown suit and bowler hat wearing spectacles entered the room. He bowed to Basil and took a seat that he was offered.

“Let’s say we dispense with the formalities, Mr. Sutterfield. I wish to hire you to find out any and all information about a man and his family,” Basil explained plainly.

“Well Sir, what information can you offer me to start on?” Mr. Sutterfield asked just as bluntly. He knew that Basil was a very wealthy man and there would be a large retainer provided if he could find the information out quickly.

“His name is John Mannion, but he is going by Marshall now. He has a wife and a stepdaughter. He works at Wicks public school. Many years ago he worked here in London as an accountant. I am interested in the years since then only for him and before that for his wife.” Basil had at first thought of only finding out about John. But he was very curious as to what type of woman would snare him into marriage.

“I shall see what I can find and report back to you at the earliest date,” Mr. Sutterfield answered standing and started for the door. Basil stood to see him out. Once the detective was gone he went into their sitting room to find Clara. It was past her bedtime and as usual he would have to run her off to bed. At least she had already dressed for bed so it would not be too much of a fight.

“Okay, little dove. It’s off to bed with you,” he said affectionately.

“Will you tuck me in, Papa?” Clara asked in the sweetest tone she could mange.

“Of course I will,” he smiled down at her as he scooped her into his arms and carried her up the steps to her room.

“Papa, I’m too big to be carried,” Clara complained.

“Never, my little dove. Now shall you have a bedtime story tonight?” Basil teased her as he deposited her on her bed.

“Not tonight, Papa. Can we just talk for a little bit?” Clara asked sheepishly.

“And what would you like to speak about?” he asked worrying slightly at her tone.

“Do you think she has friends, Papa?” Clara plucked up the courage to ask.

“Who?” Basil was pretty sure he knew who Clara was talking about but he wasn’t sure he wanted to admit it.

“Sara Marshall of course.” Clara shook her head as if her father was daft.

Basil groaned inwardly. Clara had the distinct habit of collecting every stray she could find to care for. He hoped that her altruistic behavior was not going to extend to lower class children also; especially not to this particular child. “I’m sure she has friends at Wicks, dove. You don’t need to worry about her.”

“I’m not sure, Papa. I’ve never seen her talking to any other children. Maybe they are just as prejudiced against her father as my friends were.” Clara was beginning to worry for the other girl. It would be horrible not to have any friends at all.

Basil sat silently for a moment. It was hard to sometimes imagine the life that John and his family must face now, especially when he was allowing his old hatred of the man color his thoughts. “I’m sure she has friends, Clara. Now, off to sleep with you. It is getting late and you have school in the morning.”

Basil retired to his den and sat at his desk contemplating his daughter’s words. He eventually sat with his head resting in his hands as his mind whirled a mile a minute.

John, why did you have to come back to London? Life was so perfect for us here. And why do you have to seem like just a normal caring father? Where is the monster that I hated enough to want dead so many years ago? Where is the man who betrayed me? I want to hate you again. I want that feeling of anger. I want to wrap myself in it and let it destroy you so that you may never destroy me.

But I find myself without the heart to try to destroy you again. Not now. Not since I have seen you with your dear little Sarah. Not now since my dear little Clara is trying to show me a better way. Oh, Clara, why do you prick my conscious so now?