The Immortal Bind Read online

‘Intriguing.’ Jon approached the huge object, admiring the wrapping for a moment before he tore it away to reveal one of the most amazing pieces of furniture he’d ever seen. In fact, he was rather touched that Simon would go in search of something that was so to his taste.

  ‘Wow! I don’t know what to say.’ He admired all the charming detail ahead of taking a seat on the magnificent chair and, feeling rather regal, he sat up tall and announced, ‘I love it!’

  TEN THOUSAND MILES AWAY

  A soft breeze blew through the large windows on the upper level of the warehouse, playing random melodious tunes on the many different wind chimes of wood, glass and metal that hung from the high ceiling trusses. The soothing sounds combined with the early streams of morning sunlight pouring through the tall windows of the bedroom to create a most tranquil ambience. Sara had stirred from her slumber and was saying her regular, quiet morning ‘thank you’ to the universe for her recent good fortune. All the interest in her work that Liz was stirring up felt like validation for Sara having invested her inheritance in buying this old warehouse for their apparel design business, and she adored having her home and workspace in the same location.

  Downstairs was divided into several areas — lounge, dining, kitchen, and a large sewing area. Upstairs were a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom, and a storage-room-cum-wardrobe for Sara’s personal clothes and her completed designs.

  Unfortunately, soon her lovely warehouse would only be a workspace as Robert couldn’t stand clutter and was insisting they move into his house once they had married.

  In the wake of her parents’ tragic departure from this world, Sara had been paralysed by grief. ‘House fire, sparked by faulty electrical wiring’ was how the officer had described the cause of death. The rest of his report was something of a blur as the shock of the harrowing news had numbed her. Her parents had been burned alive, that was the short of it, and she was hard-pressed to imagine a worse way to go. For her the event had felt, and still did feel, like she’d had a limb amputated. Her dearest friends had comforted her through the aftermath, freely giving of their company. They’d spent many sleepless nights shedding tears with her; yet what they were really mourning was their once joyous and inspiring friend. The effect that her depressed state of being was having on those closest to her, compelled Sara to seek professional help to claw her way out of her pit of despair. That decision had led her to Dr Robert Baxter, who had been her mainstay ever since.

  She looked to Robert still fast asleep in the bed beside her as she wiped a sentimental tear from her eye. Hypnotism had done wonders to relieve the depth of her grief — Sara still got teary when she thought about her parents, but it was no longer stifling. She really didn’t know how she could have found her way back to the land of the living without Robert, and it felt good to be in a positive headspace again and to be creating and enjoying life.

  As Sara gazed around her space she decided that she really couldn’t blame Robert for wanting to take up residence at his place. Her tastes were rather eclectic and eccentric and did not really exude the professional, businesslike impression that Robert desired to project to his clients and associates. It’s not like I have to leave it all behind, she reassured herself every time she got a bit melancholy about the notion of moving out. I’ll still get to work here nearly every day.

  A knock on the front door roused Sara from a horizontal position, and Robert from his slumber.

  ‘Who is that at this time in the morning?’

  ‘I’m not expecting anyone.’ Sara clambered out of bed and found a wraparound to put on.

  ‘What time is it?’ Robert looked to the clock and winced. ‘Oh, damn . . . I’m up.’ He raised himself and headed straight to the bathroom as Sara headed downstairs to greet her guest.

  She unlocked and opened the entrance door to find her business partner, appearing as if she’d just arrived from breakfast in Paris. Liz’s body-hugging dress of toasted almond matched her large-brimmed sunhat and heels, and an expensive bottle of bubbly in hand completed the look.

  ‘Hello sweetness!’ Liz smiled broadly and kissed both Sara’s cheeks in turn. ‘I can’t tell you how happy I am to be back in the Sydney sunshine. I just got in . . . what a flight!’

  ‘Well, you look fabulous,’ Sara was always excited to see her partner, as she usually brought a whole suitcase of new fabric to play with. Then she spied the two large men unloading a huge box from a truck out front. ‘Holy moly, how much fabric did you buy?’

  ‘Oh, that’s not fabric,’ Liz motioned the two men hither, before looking back to Sara. ‘That’s your wedding gift, straight from Portobello Road in London.’

  ‘Really!’ Sara’s eyes widened in surprise and Liz nodded with glee. ‘How on earth did you get it here?’

  ‘Oh, Qantas are well used to me and my excess luggage.’ Liz waved off the expense.

  ‘You shipped it here as excess luggage!’ Sara gaped at the indulgence. It appeared mighty heavy, whatever it was — even with a trolley the two men were having trouble wrangling the item. ‘That must have cost you a fortune!’

  ‘It won’t cost me a thing when I write it off on tax.’ Liz winked. ‘I probably should have gone straight home to get some sleep.’ Liz cast her briefcase onto one of the lounges, along with her shoulder bag that colour-matched perfectly with her earrings and ring of Tiffany blue. Her deep red locks were pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and not a hair was displaced when she dispensed with her hat. ‘I just had to give you this first.’ She directed the men to a large empty space in Sara’s sewing area. ‘Put it down anywhere there.’

  Once the men had complied, Liz retrieved some cash from her handbag and discreetly handed it to one of the men on their way out.

  ‘Well, don’t just stand there—’ Liz closed the door and returned to her handbag to retrieve a cigarette. ‘Open it! The suspense is killing me.’ She lit her smoke.

  Sara couldn’t help but note her partner’s excitement wane as she spied Robert appearing at the top of the stairs between the lounge and kitchen/dining areas. He was dressed in a smart business suit and appeared very handsome to Sara’s eyes. It was no secret that Robert and Liz rubbed each other the wrong way; in fact, Robert didn’t click with any of her close friends, maybe because he was not as creative as they were.

  ‘Elizabeth, back so soon?’ He descended the stairs to join them, suitcase in hand. ‘I trust you had a pleasant trip. Sara told me the good news, congratulations.’

  Liz dragged deeply on her smoke and exhaled, forcing a sweet smile. ‘Are you very disappointed I won’t be at the wedding?’

  Robert smiled broadly, making no attempt to contain his delight. ‘Must you expose us all to deadly toxins this early in the morning?’ He dropped his suitcase to open his briefcase, which he’d left on the breakfast counter the night before, and had a quick check of the contents.

  ‘My smoking has never bothered Sara.’ Liz took a seat and another drag, which she seemed to enjoy all the more at Robert’s expense.

  ‘Well, when you decide you wish to kick the habit, I will be happy to assist, free of charge.’ Robert closed his briefcase, satisfied he’d not forgotten anything. ‘I’ve had a one hundred per cent success rate with my clients.’

  ‘So I heard. You are quite the celebrity these days,’ Liz commented, and flicked her cigarette ash in the ashtray that Sara left on the coffee table specifically for her. ‘Who would have thought that hypnotherapy reality TV would be such a money spinner?’

  Sara didn’t need to be a psychic to sense the tension between the pair — it was a relief to hear a car sound its horn out front.

  ‘That will be my ride.’ As Robert retrieved his cases, he spied the huge box in Sara’s sewing area. ‘What on earth?’

  ‘Liz has brought us a wedding present. Don’t you want to delay a moment and find out what it is?’

  ‘Yes, must you leave so soon?’ Liz faked disappointment.

  Sara found the way Robert and Li
z vexed each other kind of endearing and yet disturbing. They were both too professional and fond of her to have an outright go at one another, and so endeavoured to remain civil by outdoing each other with wit and snide remarks. ‘Robert has been asked to lecture at a national psychology convention this week,’ Sara informed Liz. ‘His work is finally being taken seriously.’ She looked back to Robert and smiled with pride.

  ‘And the plane won’t wait for me.’ Robert headed out the front door, and Sara accompanied him outside to say goodbye.

  ‘So you’ll be gone for a week?’ Sara had mixed feelings about that; she’d miss him, but at the same time she had a lot of work to get on with.

  ‘Well, there’s the convention, and a few media dates afterwards.’ Robert put down his luggage to hug her. ‘I’ll call you every day, just so you can brighten mine.’

  ‘I doubt you’ll find the time, with your adoring public demanding all your attention.’ She tried not to sound jealous of his job.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Robert insisted. ‘You are my reason for being. I want to know all your news.’

  ‘We’ve never been apart this long before,’ Sara realised. ‘And with the wedding only ten days away—’

  ‘My office is taking care of all the arrangements,’ he told her.

  ‘All you have to do is show up.’

  ‘I know—’ She didn’t want him to think her complaining. ‘But I—’

  ‘Who do you love?’ He pulled back to look into her eyes.

  ‘I love you,’ she was happy to admit.

  ‘And how long will you love me?’

  ‘I will love you always,’ she whispered and kissed him farewell.

  ‘It’s a good thing all your men friends are gay, or I might be very wary leaving you all alone.’ He grinned.

  Sara rolled her eyes at this. ‘Like you have anything to worry about . . . I’m going to be buried in work. Besides, there is no competition as there will never be any other man for me, Robert Baxter.’

  ‘That’s my girl.’ He winked and let her go to retrieve his bags. ‘I’ll speak to you soon.’ Robert headed for the limousine, whereupon the attending chauffeur took his suitcase from him and opened the back door for Robert to climb in. Once he was seated comfortably inside, the driver closed the passenger door, placed the case in the boot and returned to his seat behind the wheel.

  As the car pulled away from the kerb and drove off up the road, Sara waved farewell and returned inside to find Liz at the breakfast bar, unwrapping her bottle of bubbly. ‘Sara, you know I respect you, but what do you see in that man?’

  ‘Robert is successful, good-looking, intelligent, and he adores me,’ Sara piped up in his defence, and although Liz nodded she still appeared unimpressed.

  ‘But does he make you happy?’

  Sara smiled. ‘I think so.’

  ‘You think so?’ Liz was clearly not feeling overwhelmed by her enthusiasm.

  ‘Well, since Mum and Dad . . .’ Sarah skipped over the grisly details, ‘true happiness is a little hard to imagine, but Robert has made me feel better. I know you don’t believe in past lives, destiny, karma and so forth—’

  ‘Ha no,’ Liz concurred. ‘Willie is more your man in that regard.’

  Sara smiled to acknowledge the truth of the remark. ‘But I felt like I knew Robert the moment we met, and although we may have little else in common, we have a past connection, I’m sure of that.’

  ‘I’m no expert on such things, so I shan’t argue.’ Liz regained her cheery demeanour to change the subject. ‘Are you going to open my gift?’ She fetched a couple of champagne flutes from a display shelf on the wall.

  ‘Of course.’ Sara retrieved a blade from her workbench and approached the huge package. ‘How exciting!’ She began cutting through the box and masking tape, until it fell open before her to reveal glimpses of the magnificent piece of furniture, hidden amid the packaging. Once Sara had cast aside the packaging, she gasped and stood back to view the huge chair. ‘Oh my . . .’

  ‘What do you think?’ Liz crept up beside her, bottle still in hand.

  ‘I think it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen!’ Sara’s eyes moistened with sentiment. ‘I love it! Thank you.’ Sara gave Liz a hug, and as she did, the cork popped on the champagne, startling them both.

  ‘Quick!’ Liz urged Sara to grab the glasses as the precious brew began to flow onto the floor.

  * * *

  More than a little inebriated, Jon and Simon had managed to get the huge chair to the bottom of the stairs in the foyer. Jon was seated on the stairs waiting for Simon to see out the last of the guests, the woman in red among them. He felt quite fortunate to have the huge chair blocking him in as she was obliged to blow him a kiss farewell.

  ‘I left my card by your phone,’ she slurred. ‘Call me!’ With a wave the stragglers left.

  Simon returned the gesture as he closed the door behind them.

  ‘I think she likes you,’

  Jon rolled his eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief. ‘Way too needy for my liking.’ He grabbed hold of the handrail and pulled himself up to standing.

  ‘There’s always something you don’t like,’ Simon bantered, as he staggered back towards their task. ‘I’m really starting to wonder if there is any such thing as your perfect woman.’ He spotted his drink sitting on a side table and detoured to finish it.

  ‘Me too,’ Jon agreed. ‘Now . . . let’s do this, shall we?’

  Simon placed his now-empty glass back where he’d found it. ‘Are you quite sure you wouldn’t prefer to put this in the sitting room?’

  Jon served him a knowing look as he took hold of the arm of the chair.

  ‘Right then.’ Simon relented and got with the program, taking hold of the opposite side. ‘Bedroom.’

  They lifted and commenced the chore of hauling the weighty piece of furniture upstairs.

  * * *

  ‘Sara, honey, you could have mentioned you wanted this in your bedroom before we drank all that champagne.’ Liz strained to assist Sara to lift the weighty chair up one more step and then set it down.

  ‘Well, we are halfway there now,’ Sara appealed, keeping firm hold of the arm of the chair. It was too wide for them to carry side by side, so Sara was on the up-side and Liz was down. Stuck halfway up the stairs as they were, with the chair tipping towards Liz, Sara was afraid the weighty chair might get away from them, which would not bode well for her friend. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to take those heels off?’

  ‘Desperate times call for desperate measures.’ Liz turned around and, leaning her body weight against their load, she removed her shoes and placed them on the seat. ‘Okay, let’s do this.’

  ‘Not much further now.’ Sara lifted and backed up the next step.

  Upon placing the chair in its final destination, Liz staggered backwards, fanning her face and catching her breath. ‘Heavens . . . the jetlag just hit.’

  Sara removed Liz’s shoes and collapsed into her new chair. ‘Thank you for your assistance.’

  ‘I brought it on myself.’ Liz waved off the effort, admiring how the chair looked in the space. ‘It certainly dominates the room.

  Robert’s going to hate it.’

  ‘True,’ Sara agreed, seeing an ulterior motive in her partner’s generosity, which didn’t detract from the sentiment behind the gift in the least. ‘But this is my space and I think it complements the room beautifully.’

  ‘Well and good. I wish you all the happiness in the world.’ Liz approached to claim her shoes from Sara, and kiss her cheek. ‘I’m going to leave you to it and collapse into a hot bath. Don’t get up,’ she insisted, backing out of the room. ‘I know the way. I’ll be in touch before I take off again. Ciao bella!’

  Liz was like that — fly in, bedazzle and whoosh off again. She hadn’t even asked to see the new designs.

  She must be tired. Sara caressed the lovely burgundy velvet armrests with her fingertips and then reached up to stroke the cushioned
backrest in the same cosy fabric. That jewel is really stunning. She turned about to kneel up on the seat and take a closer look at the gem set into the centre of the headrest. She’d never seen a lilac diamond before and this mock-up was as eye-catching as any real diamond.

  Sara wasn’t big on jewellery; she liked to dress up her surrounds more than herself. When she did dress up, her taste veered more towards fanciful, bygone attire than whatever was considered in vogue. Still, if Liz had her way Sara’s personal style would be trending worldwide before too long.

  The fractals within the diamond were mesmerising, and Sara felt an eerie twinge of recognition — déjà vu of having stared into this stone before — though she knew this could not possibly have been the case. The hairs on her arms all stood on end, yet she felt no alarm, no chill; if anything she felt sedate. A yawn ended her fascination with the stone and she turned around to sink into the seat. It was highly unusual for her to be so exhausted this early in the day; perhaps all the excitement surrounding the wedding was finally taking a toll on her energy levels. There was a stack of work to be getting on with, but laying her arms and head upon one of the armrests was so comfortable, she just had to close her eyes and experience it for a moment.

  * * *

  Jon’s bedroom was not excessively large, but it had high ceilings. Two long, slender feature windows on the wall opposite the door gave the illusion of space. No artwork on these walls, only white — a blank canvas for Jon’s mind to paint upon in his semi-lucid moments between sleep and conscious thought. An adjoining en suite and a large walk-in wardrobe allowed the furnishings in the main bedroom to be kept to a minimum; just a large, dark wood, four-poster bed, two matching bedside tables and now a huge chair, which Jon placed against the wall directly facing the foot of his bed.

  ‘Perfect!’ Jon staggered backwards and took a seat on the end of the bed to admire their efforts, but feeling suddenly giddy he flopped backwards onto the bed. ‘Goddamn I’m drunk . . .’ His head was swimming and his stomach felt disturbed and way too full.

  Simon laughed at his friend. ‘You are udderly smashed!’