Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling. In this story, Harry Potter is very old, and is known as 'The Great Wizard.' His name is Bellamy.

Chapter 25:

By March, Valencio's hair was glossy black again, and normally cut. He'd taken a few of Damien's photos, and left them with an agent for possible acting jobs, but to his relief, there had been no contact since. He was perfectly happy to leave it like that, and hoped that Tasha would be satisfied that he'd tried. After all, he'd not been able to quote any experience or training, except for that series of commercials the previous year. Maybe no-one would want him.

They started having visitors again at the beginning of March, the beginning of spring, though it was still cold. There were to be a maximum of twenty at a time, to begin with. Carol was making use of Valencio, and he nearly always wore the yellow vest, had breakfast with the visitors, got to know them quickly, and they quite often joined him when he worked. He and Jimmy were working on a second block of garages now, and again Bellamy had done the uprights for them. It was not deemed urgent, as some of the guests were housed in the units, several now vacated, and they all had a carport.

Brian asked, "What are your plans today, Vince?"

"The farrier's coming. I'll be helping Gloria with the horses all morning probably."

One of the women said, "Shoeing? I've never seen horses shod."

"You can watch, if you like. But not too many, or we won't be able to move."

One of the men said, "I notice the ponies are unshod."

Valencio nodded, "We don't bother shoeing most of the Fell ponies, the black ones, that is - they're very hardy, and rarely go off the property. But Jock'll check their feet for us, and he'll do that first, before Connie takes out the gentle ride. Then the bigger horses, and those are all shod. Just a check, and do whatever's needed."

One of the women asked, "Do you mind if we take photos, Vince?"

"Photos of the horses if you like, or Jock. Preferably not me." He didn't have a strong objection, he was just a little concerned that he might be recognised, though he was quite sure the odds were against it. The projected advertisement for their holidays had not come to fruition, as they were getting sufficient clients with just a small ad in a Glasgow newspaper, plus word of mouth.

Three weeks later, Narzu-Han studied the photographs of the young man now called Vince McDonald. He saw him holding a horse, as an older man bent over one of the horse's legs. He saw him galloping another horse, bareheaded, wearing a broad grin, and looking over his shoulder at three riders who followed. He saw him studying the engine of a battered red truck, and he saw him with a shovel, heaping manure into a pile.

Narzu-Han looked up at the woman, and asked, "Did he seem happy, Feena?"

"He radiated cheer, and was very popular with the other guests. As I said, I had to be careful, as I saw him looking at me and frowning, and after that, I took care not to go too near. You were right not to send a wizard."

"Did you see Bellamy at all?"

"Just once, and then he was only there for an hour or so, and of course, I kept well out of his way as well."

"So there's no truth in the rumours that Bellamy uses them when he chooses?"

"Apparently not. There's still about fifty of them together, and while we were there, there was a double wedding. One of the oldest ones, Mary, and her husband, who are to live there, and a younger one."

"What about a young woman called Brigitta?"

"Going to school, wearing school uniform. A girlfriend often comes home with her, and she takes her riding."

Narzu-Han nodded. Abensur would be pleased. He wasn't going to tell him where they were, even though the initial clue had come through him. Valencio had to be protected. He dismissed Feena, and studied the photographs again. So Bellamy wasn't using the medj. He was almost a little disappointed. There was no excuse to take Valencio from him. He sighed. His boy was happy, but Narzu-Han was lonely. He'd organise monthly reports, just keep an eye on the boy without disturbing or upsetting him in any way. Feena would organise it, and she knew to be very careful. He'd warned her that Valencio had some telepathy.

xdividerx

It had been months ago that the girls had told Valencio they'd found him on the internet - just looking up his name. He yielded to temptation one wet day, and typed in his name, as they'd done. There were several sites, and he checked a few that merely mentioned the movies and the old award, one that had a particular section relating to his disappearance, and a mention of the reward, apparently still current.

Another, and Valencio saw an image, not of himself, but of Dean Blockman. And there was an appeal, addressed to Dear Valencio. Valencio was surprised. The emotional appeal was directed to himself, from Dean. But surely he'd never meant that much to the man. He read it again, and stared into the distance. Maybe he was not truly, unforgivably dirty. John said. But could he face anyone that knew?

Yet Joe and Anne Corbett knew, and didn't treat him any differently. Lily, too, whom he saw now and again with a couple of the women she was friendly with. Others must have a very good idea. Someone came in, and he flicked off the image and looked away, so that they didn't interrupt. Or see his wet eyes.

Dean Blockman. Maybe if he cared so much, he didn't have the right to keep the information from him. And Aunty Lexie. Where was she now? But there was no way he could face Aunty Lexie after what he'd been. Valencio didn't write to Dean, didn't communicate. But when a contact came from his agent, he insisted on a much higher payment than was initially offered. He needed to go to New York.

The small part in the advertisement went well, and two more afterwards. He refused the offer of a part in a television series, only putting the money in his account, still not quite willing to face the man from his childhood. There was a proposition put to Valencio by a fellow actor. He declined with courtesy, and without becoming either aggressive or afraid. There was no need to fear. The homosexuals he met from time to time were just ordinary men, without the desire to rape, and without the capability of overcoming the resistance of a full grown man able to fight. All the same, he resumed lessons in self-defence, and sometimes had sparring practice with Roddy or Glen, who lived locally.

Mid spring, and Mildred's garden was fully planted, with help from Gabrielle Barnes this time, Oliver's mother, who looked after the gardens at Bellamy's home property. Three generations of Barnes worked for Bellamy. The plants were provided for them, many from those same gardens. Perennials, as well as thousands of bulbs - daffodils, hyacinths, tulips, others. Mildred had a lot less time for gardening these days, but there were plenty of willing hands to help.

The months fled by, busy, happy. Life in the Khatabi enclosures seemed further and further away. Few spoke of it any more.

The end of June, and twenty-four students were given a certificate announcing the completion of the bridging course. Tasha declared she'd sleep for a week. "That last week before the exams - that was torrid!"

The girls would be going into the final year of schooling, and twelve had enrolled at Edinburgh University, to do their Bachelor of Arts. Ingrid and Adolfina, both wanting to be vets, announced that they would do as Andrea advised, take a few extra subjects, some with the school students, some correspondence, and maybe also, they could have some other animals at Loch Lomand. They thought they should get to know animals besides cats, dogs and horses.

Jimmy and Brigitta announced that they were planning to travel to America, to meet Jimmy's parents. Valencio, that night, lay on his back in his bed a long time. Tasha waited, and finally he asked quietly, "Awake?"

"I'm awake."

"I thought I might go with Jimmy and Brigitta. Do you want to come as well?"

"Are you going to see Dean?"

"I don't know. He's in New York."

After a pause, Tasha said, "I don't think I'll come. Mariabella is to take over management of the motel in Edinburgh, and I'm taking her job as housekeeper here. I want the time before she leaves, as there's things I don't know."

Valencio was relieved. He didn't think he could face Dean in any case. It would be even harder if Tasha was there. He was so silly sometimes. She might see him cry. He still couldn't look at old photographs of himself without becoming upset. It was a little like it was not himself. He was so terribly, terribly sorry for that poor boy he saw sometimes, who didn't know...

Jimmy and Brigitta were pleased to have Valencio's company on the trip over. He was always cheerful company, and useful, carrying luggage, and happy to run errands. There didn't seem to be anything on his mind, though he said he'd be leaving them a day or two after they reached the small town where Jimmy's parents lived, and would make his own way home.

Dean Blockman was busy two days later. His secretary suggested Valencio make an appointment, and he said vaguely, "Maybe another time."

Anna said, "If you'd only tell me your business..."

Valencio shrugged, "It's personal." He was already moving away.

"He's the managing director. He's a busy man."

Valencio nodded and smiled at her vaguely. He was relieved. He'd made the effort, and maybe he could forget the whole ridiculous idea. There might be enough left in his account to find a jeweller and buy a ruby ring for Tasha, even if it did leave him a bit short.

Dean came out of his office, a folder in his hand. He was frowning. It was a big account, and was at risk. Why did Iraq always need to be bribed? Maybe he'd best give up on the whole area, and stick to Europe where the bribes were more subtle, and didn't need to be nearly as large.

Valencio hesitated, looking at him. Dean Blockman. It had been twenty years, and he looked almost exactly the same. He'd liked most of his stepfathers, but Dean was like he imagined a father should be. Dean looked up, stopped and stared.

Valencio said sheepishly, "Hello, Dean."

Dean dropped his folder, wrapped him in a bear hug, and said brokenly, "Valencio."

Valencio had been afraid that he might cry, but it was Dean who cried, as Valencio patted him on the back, and said that everything was fine.

Anna was very confused, but then suddenly remembered. She'd helped make the internet site, a year and a half ago now, though the emotional honesty of the appeal was more recent. It had to be the poor little boy, whom Dean had refused to believe was long dead.

Dean was suddenly thoroughly embarrassed with himself, said gruffly that he was just a bit glad to see him, and glanced at his secretary, very busy at her computer. He said, still unsteadily, "It's Valencio, Anna. He came back."

Anna rose, extended a hand, very formally, and greeted him. "Vince McDonald," said Valencio firmly. "Please don't tell anyone."

"Vince McDonald. And a secretary knows to be discreet." Poor boy. She wouldn't tell anyone. If he was one of 'the survivors,' then he'd presumably been taken for prostitution, like those others Dean had spoken of - Jeremy and Damir. One called Pierre was thought to be a probable, as well, and was not listed among the dead. Would Pierre go back to his parents? Or would he be too ashamed, as Valencio must have been? It was a while now since the survivors had advised of those dead.

Dean said, "Anna, please cancel anything this afternoon. And if the Iraquis make contact, don't bother being apologetic. I'm tired of them."

Anna queried, "The account?"

"If it doesn't happen, it doesn't matter."

His stepson, who'd made his mother let him go home to Italy, and just a few days later, he'd been running, as if the devil was at his heels, the policeman had said, and then he was gone. But there had been something in Hollywood as well, when the little school had been 'inspected.' It had been the day that Valencio had left for Italy. Had he nearly escaped? But they'd gone after him, and taken him anyway. Valencio, bright, active, highly intelligent, who may have manipulated his mother, but seldom for trivial things. Poor Caprice, who never had been able to see past the appearance of things. Valencio didn't inherit his intelligence from his mother, that was for sure.

Valencio just waited, unsure what to do next.

Dean said, "You're to come with me to my club, Valencio, where we can sit and talk for a while."

"Vince! Please call me Vince. Valencio is dead."

Dean thought that he'd have to admit who he was if he wanted to claim the Trust Fund, or his inheritance, both of which he was trustee for, but he'd leave business until later.

Only when they were seated in a quiet area of a large and luxurious rich man's club, did Dean ask, "What are you doing now, Vince?"

Valencio told him about Tasha, then that there were others. "Still forty of us together, one other man, the rest women. Most have made contact with relatives. A few have been disowned for what we've been. Tasha writes now and then to her parents, but neither they, nor her brothers, seem to want to see her. Clarence has no intention of telling anyone he's alive, and anyway, he's a lot older than I am, and his parents are dead."

Dean said, "It's wicked to turn away from someone for something one has no control over."

Valencio shrugged. "People judge. And it would be a lot worse for a man than a woman. How would Caprice have welcomed me back?"

"She had friends who were homosexuals. She didn't condemn them."

Valencio said sceptically, "Her own son? Very bad for her image."

"How long have you been back?"

"Over two years. There was no escape, but the family declined in power, then there was a change of leadership, and a man came and got us out. Still looks after us, owns the property, though we're self-supporting now, or nearly so. A lot have jobs, a few of the younger ones have allowances from their parents."

"Where do you live?"

"We made a decision that no relatives would be told. We can't be pestered by police or reporters."

Dean asked, "What if the culprits could be punished?"

Valencio smiled, as he looked into the distance. Dean shivered at his expression. What if he could napalm the whole compound? The Japanese one as well? All those who'd used him. But some were already dead, and it would never happen again. John was married to their leaders. Valencio finally shook his head regretfully. "There are ones I'd still kill if I could, but it's not practical, and relatively innocent ones might also be killed. Anyway, I probably couldn't even find it again."

"One of the Arabic countries?"

Valencio nodded, and said, "For many years, of course, I was just a servant. It was only a couple of years when I was a boy, that it was sex."

Dean looked at him, thinking, How could you submit?

Valencio answered the thought. "There was no choice in the matter. And once someone stopped fighting, they didn't get hurt."

Dean was looking at the table, and there were tears in his eyes again.

Valencio said briskly, "Anyway, it's all over now. I play farmer, I have toys like a tractor, and a truck that's always breaking down, and a chainsaw..." He smiled at his stepfather, and said, "Boy toys. We have horses too, and dogs and cats." He started talking about Shona then, who was so remarkably intelligent. And Caesar, who liked to gallop.

He'd stopped worrying about the past, and entertained Dean with an account of Madigan vanishing with Emanuelle, returning ten days later, the mare in foal. "Only one this time. Last time he did something like that, four mares went with him."

For the moment, Dean put away his unhappiness at the little he'd been told, knew it had been a lot worse than had been implied, and allowed himself to be entertained. They were talking easily, and Dean ordered a lunch for them both. Valencio cast his eyes around once, and said, "You do realise your reputation will suffer. They're assuming your tastes have changed."

Dean glanced at one of his acquaintances, who was looking speculatively at the young man with him. He shrugged, and said, "Some rich men, often the older ones, look for variety. But this club would shun anyone who used boys, for instance, or girls too young."

Valencio said grimly, "Anyone like that, they should not be shunned, they should be destroyed."

Dean said lightly, "One could get into trouble doing something like that."

Valencio was silent. Maybe he should not have come back. He moved restlessly, and Dean said, "Are there to be more kittens for your Ginger this year?"

Valencio shook his head, told himself he was being silly, and spoke about Susiya, whom everyone but her owner, still called 'Ugly.' He grinned crookedly at his stepfather, "We tend to have a different viewpoint than others. Ugly is good. Ugly doesn't get you into trouble."

Dean looked a little sadly at Valencio, and asked, "Do you still find problems?"

"Approaches from men, do you mean? There have been approaches, and the first one upset me so badly, I punched at him, but he ducked, luckily. I've learned to turn them down a bit more tactfully now."

"You were away a long time."

Valencio nodded. "Tasha and a lot of the others did a special bridging course for people who missed some school, and still want to go onto further study. We had school where we were, one of the older ones teaching the children, and all of us teaching each other, as well. Like, I taught Italian, and learned Greek and German."

Dean asked quietly, "The children?"

"Not small children, teenagers mostly." He finished hurriedly, "Anyway, all I started off to say was that we tend to find unexpected gaps in our education. No TV, no films, no newspapers, so no current affairs. The Korean crisis, that didn't quite turn into a nuclear war, for instance. We knew nothing of that."

"That was a big thing. Amazing - that all those thoroughly tested weapons, when it came to the crunch, just didn't work. In the end, they went back to the negotiating table, out of sheer frustration, I think!"

Dean was working at it. He hadn't missed the times when Valencio had seemed to withdraw from him, and all through lunch, he took care to keep the conversation on impersonal subjects. The Korean crisis, which he knew more about than had been in the book that Valencio had read, other crises, that Valencio had never heard of, the difficulties of dealing with the Arabic countries, advances in computer technology.

Valencio finally asked, "I heard that Caprice was dead. How did she die?"

"Just a ridiculous accident. It was only a short time after she divorced me, and remarried. A party, too much alcohol, drugs, too little sense. They tried to cross a flooded road, and the four in the car all drowned."

Valencio nodded, and asked, "Lexie Carmichael? Do you know where she is now?"

"Dead as well, I'm afraid. Cancer, I heard."

"Auntie Lexie. I could never have faced her again. She loved me, I think."

Dean nodded. "She was distraught. Always badgering me for news. I had private detectives looking, but there were no clues."

Of course there were no clues, not with magic on the side of the bastards! Valencio was silent a moment, before saying, "It means that you're the only one left alive who would be likely to recognise me. And I would not have expected you to."

"It was only a couple of years, but I became very fond of you. The other trustees suggested you be declared dead and the Trust wound up, but I refused."

"To claim either would mean I'd have to admit my identity. I'm Vince McDonald now, and can prove it. I think it's time to say that the boy is dead."

"There's a great deal of money involved. Not just your own, but Caprice had generous settlements from most of her husbands. He smiled, "She was good at finding rich men!"

Valencio shook his head. "I don't want to be wealthy. There's far more important things in life."

"Considering having children?"

"Tasha would like to adopt, but the waiting list's too long. So we'll have to be satisfied with cats, dogs and horses."

"Tasha can't?"

Valencio shook his head, briefly.

Dean said casually, "The trusts have waited all these years. They can wait a little longer." When an old fan, or maybe an old friend recognised Valencio, he'd lose his anonymity. He might be willing to accept the money then. His looks were too unusual. He would eventually be recognised.

Valencio said, "You might like to drop the reward though. I'd prefer not to be exposed."

"I could contrive to pay it to you, without exposing you."

"Too difficult. It's better if the boy is assumed to be dead." Which he is, Valencio thought.

"Have you done any acting?"

"Tasha wants me to, but I prefer the farm work. They're nearly all women. They need me to do the heavy work."

Dean shook his head, "I never thought of such a future for you!"

"I never thought of it for myself, but it's a good life. I'll do a bit more study this coming year, not the full-time course Tasha did, but a current affairs course that runs in the evening. I can patch up a few of the holes."

"How many languages do you speak now then?"

"Several, though only Italian, Arabic and English fluently. Conversational in Greek, French and German, as well, and a smattering of other languages."

"It would be easy enough to find a job with a company such as mine, then."

"With little formal schooling and no qualifications? And even my looks, that'd be a drawback."

"You'll get tired of being a farmer."

Valencio shook his head, and looked at the table. "Tasha wants us to leave home. She thinks I could be a film star if I just indicated my willingness. But she should know, more than anyone. I'm too damaged. If that fellow over there became too pushy, I could lose my temper and knock him out. I could kill, and wind up in gaol, back where I started. I couldn't stand being in a prison again."

Dean said, "Are you having dessert?"

Valencio's face was red. How was Dean getting him to talk more than he should? He said, "I would like dessert." No more betraying himself, and he began to talk lightly of baseball, which seemed to be such a craze in America.

Dean went along with him. It was Vince now. Talking of Valencio might mean that he'd lose contact again.

The talk was light and entertaining for the next two hours, and never once veered onto the personal. Valencio finally thanked Dean for lunch, and said he had something to do before the shops closed.

Dean said, "Would you object to my presence, Vince?"

"Of course not. What I need is a jeweller, not too expensive. Tasha wants a ruby ring."

Valencio's Tasha had expressed a desire for a ruby ring, Valencio's plane ticket home was already paid, his room for the night was paid, and he reckoned he could hitchhike home from London if necessary, and make do without expensive meals. He bought Tasha the ring, pleased he could afford it, and then allowed Dean to buy a gift for her as well, though firmly declining one for himself.

Dean didn't press, worried that Valencio might never contact him again if he made a wrong move. It had taken over two years as it was. But Valencio provided him with an address, even though only a London Post Office address, and said that he should let him know whenever he was in London, and he could come and visit.

Dean went back to his office when Valencio finally left. He couldn't talk to anyone but his secretary about Valencio. She listened as Dean told her that he was entertaining, and full of life. And then he said sadly, "He didn't want to talk about it, of course, just said that when you stopped fighting, you didn't get hurt. He pretended it was not so terrible, but then later he said that a man who had sex with boys or little girls should be destroyed. And he meant it. My poor Valencio. I think they probably hurt him very badly."

"He nearly just went away when I suggested an appointment. So close - just that you happened to see him when you came out."

"I'll leave it a few weeks, invite him to join me in London for a tour or something. Something that might tempt him. I can write, but I have to hope that he'll answer."

At home, Tasha pretended to be thrilled with her ruby ring. She liked it - it was inexpensive, but had charm, but she thought that Valencio had missed the point. It was not material things that she wanted. What she wanted was seeing him where she thought he belonged - among the rich and famous - a film star. And herself, his wife. She wanted to feel important, to be looked up to for a change. Feeling so vulnerable for all those years, so insignificant in the minds of their masters - expendable even. And then her mother hadn't even replied to her latest letter, and one to her youngest brother had arrived back, 'address unknown,' which she doubted.

Tasha was bitter. She'd tried so hard to be brave all those years, and her family should welcome her safe return. She thought Valencio didn't understand.

Valencio understood better than she guessed. He remembered now how much he loved to act. There was seldom much acting involved in those few commercials he'd done. There had been not the slightest problem when he'd travelled to New York, returned to London, and part walked, part hitch hiked home. He wondered again if he was just being a coward, and the next advertising job he was offered, all he did was insist on a rise in promised pay, and accepted. It was a lot easier that time, as he stayed in the Edinburgh motel that Mariabella was already managing for those who would be going on to university. Lucy had moved in, but Eva was in her own small flat, and considering marrying her landlord.

Narzu-Han's spies didn't know why he was interested in Vince McDonald, they just knew they had to be absolutely discreet, and certainly could not risk harming him, even by making a memory change spell. So far, three different Ania had done the job, just booking in for a few days, and doing their checking mostly by casually questioning the other visitors. The last two had booked in to the units, opted to have breakfast and lunch by themselves, and only joined the other visitors for dinner.

Galina listened to the conversation. There were 'hosts' present, wearing bright yellow shirts and name badges, Hilde and Kaede. Twenty-five visitors, including a scattering of singles. Malcolm was laughing. "He said it was easy, told me that loading hay-bales was fun. And now my shoulders are killing me."

Alec grinned at him, "It's fun if you get to drive his ridiculous truck, and you have to admit he didn't suggest any of us might actually lift bales!"

Kaede asked, "Why is the truck ridiculous?"

"Just that it came out of the ark, but when I asked why he didn't get a new one, he said he likes his truck. He gets to fix it at least once a month!"

"He's a character."

"Dave said he was a bloody lunatic! He said he was just talking to Emma, the one who's always off painting, and suddenly Vince was beside her and looking like murder. Dave was going off to pack. He said he was demanding a refund."

"Is that right, Kaede?"

Kaede said calmly, "Dave Lowen left early. We gave him a refund."

One of the women asked, "Is Emma alright?"

"She was a little upset, and from now on, one of the men will be closer in case she needs help."

"She seems very shy."

"Too shy for men who can't take a hint," Kaede said flatly.

Valencio never saw Galina, and didn't know he was watched. Narzu-Han had his monthly report, pleased that his boy was happy. He was still looking after Valencio, at least in his own eyes.

Valencio finished getting in the grass hay, less than there was the previous year, as there was not such a need for economy. Loch Lomand was paying all its own running costs, Bellamy was no longer subsidizing them, and the income from the Loch Lomand Trust was now devoted to startup costs for new businesses, or new jobs, as, one by one, they became independent.

The new motel in Edinburgh was making an initial profit, but that would soon reduce when twelve rooms were taken up by students, who would need their allowances, as well as their accommodation and meals.

There were several who wanted to stay at Loch Lomand permanently - Belinda and Emma, Clarence and Bernice, and several of the older ones, including Mary, and her husband, Gary.

xchapter endsx