Chapter Five – Getting Started

Scott left the lounge, not really sure if he actually felt more positive since his father had opened up about the strange event in New York. Well, better out than in, as his grandmother used to say when they were younger. He began to make his way down to the gym when someone stopped him.

"Scott!" It was Virgil.

"What's up?" Scott asked. His brother sounded unusually aggravated.

"What was that all about with Dad?" Virgil demanded. Scott swallowed nervously.

"All what?" he replied, as innocently as he could.

"Some crazy conversation about Mom," Virgil said, looking his elder brother straight in the eye. Scott sighed. There was no fooling Virgil. At least, he'd never been able to do it. He half dragged Virgil into a nearby empty room.

"How much did you hear?" he asked, cautiously.

"Almost all of it. I was coming back inside to get a drink, when I heard Dad saying that he had seen someone in New York, and it was Mom," Virgil replied. His hazel-brown eyes, inherited from their mother, took on a more troubled than angry look.

"Scott, why are you letting him pursue this? It's nonsense."

"I think it is too, Virg, but he seems so sure of it. He's determined to get to the bottom of it, and you know what Dad's like when he gets his mind set on something," Scott said. "It's easier to let him go."

"I don't see how this helps any of us," Virgil replied, shortly.

"If it makes you feel any better, Grandma knows too," Scott said. "We both think that Dad needs to get out from behind his desk. Grandma thinks that that's the reason behind all this stuff with this woman."

"Someone has to go with him, Scott. He can't be left alone in that state of mind," Virgil said. "I know that he didn't want…"

"Don't worry," Scott said. "I suggested to him that he took time off to go to New York. I've got it all under control."

"You suggested it?" Virgil asked, shocked.

"It's okay," Scott assured him. "Nothing's going to happen to him. He'll have a couple of days in New York, discover he was wrong, and come home."

"And then what?" Virgil asked.

"Then we'll take it from there," Scott replied, in his calm manner. "It'll be far more straightforward to discuss that when he's not here."

"Perhaps," Virgil replied, sceptically.

"What I need you to do is pretend you know nothing, and play along," Scott told him. "The others will flip if they know about this." Virgil hesitated. He was worried for his father, but he trusted his brother totally, and he knew that Scott was right about their younger siblings.

"Okay," he said, eventually. "But you'd better not keep anything else from me."

"I won't," Scott promised. "Now, this is what I've been thinking…"

The way the sun streamed through the window suggested that it was late afternoon. The room was decorated in a plain but homely way, with personal artefacts scattered here and there. It was mostly tidy, except for the laundry waiting to be put away. Well, the laundry could wait for just a little bit longer. There was something more important and more enjoyable to deal with first. The tiny little baby in her arms. It couldn't have been more than a couple of weeks old, yet it stared back at her with piercing blue eyes, as if she was its entire universe. She stroked its cheek, lovingly, unable to decide what she was feeling. Was it absolute pride and joy, or some sort of wonderment? She whispered a few soothing words to the baby, but there was no sound. There never was. But she knew instinctively what she was saying through some emotion, although she didn't always know what was being said to her at other times. She somehow managed though, as if she already knew that things were about to happen, just like she knew, without looking, that the door to the apartment had opened. She turned her head and smiled at the man who had entered. He returned the smile and came straight over to her, greeting her with a kiss. He held out his arms for the baby, and she gave it to him. He grinned and spoke a few words to the baby then looked back at her, asking her something…

She woke up with a start. Another dream, another fragment of something that seemed so familiar, yet so distant. She had always had these strange dreams - though not every night - but she kept that very much to herself. She had to. They had become more vivid since her encounter with him in the middle of New York, but they still did not seem to follow any particular order. One night she would dream that she was hanging a child's paintings on a wall, another night she dreamt that she was a child herself. The dreams were always in colour, but there was never any sound. But although that was almost as frustrating as not having these dreams in a logical order, somehow it didn't matter because it felt as if she had already been there. No, she knew she had already been there. Yet despite the dreams, she had no real idea of who she had been. Lucy. That's what he'd called out to her. But who was Lucy? She shook her head with partial frustration. Maybe she should tell them, then they could end this feeling of limbo that she lived in. No, she couldn't do that. Those dreams – perhaps memories - were the only sort of power that she held over them. They thought they had her mind, but she couldn't let them know otherwise.

The final preparations had been made, and Jeff was ready to leave for the return trip to New York. His four sons besides Scott were quite surprised by his apparently sudden desire to take some time off, but then they enthusiastically encouraged him to go and enjoy himself. Of course, Jeff did not know that Virgil was aware of the real reasons for his departure. Virgil was a very good actor, in keeping with his artistic and musical talents. Although he was never dishonest, it had been a talent that had served him well throughout his life, usually when he needed to get out of something, particularly when he was younger. Nevertheless, Jeff was non the wiser that he had been rumbled by his russet-haired second son, and amiably bade goodbye to him, as he did the other residents of Tracy Island.

"Promise me that you will not get too lost in this," Josie had begged her son.

"I won't, Mother. It will just be a few days, that's all," Jeff assured her. He had set himself a deadline to try and accomplish his task by. He had to for his own sake, else he knew that he would probably search for 'Lucy' for weeks, maybe even forever.

"Scott, don't hesitate to contact me if you need any help for any reason," he told his eldest son before he left. "International Rescue is still the priority, not anything that I may be doing."

"Sure, Dad," Scott replied, though he couldn't help wondering if that really was the case. He watched as his father took the controls of his personal jet, starting the engines and making his way down the runway, before taking off perfectly and soaring into the South Pacific skies as gracefully as any bird. Scott looked over at his grandmother and knew that she was wondering the same thing as him: How is this all going to end?

The following day, Jeff once again touched down at the private airport a few miles outside of New York. The airport was specially built to handle private flights, especially those of the rich and famous. It saved the hassle of flying to somewhere like JFK International. Jeff could also leave his jet there, safe in the knowledge that it would be perfectly secure. He opted to be driven to his hotel in New York rather than take the monorail. Ever since that incident where a corrupt businessman had tried to talk Jeff into investing into a pan-America monorail network, only for it all to go horribly wrong, Jeff found that he had a slight aversion to monorails. He'd never been that keen on them, anyway, since they had started to make their appearance in the early '20s. Perhaps the next generation of monorail that was currently in the final phase of development, would be an improvement. Still, cars were no longer quite the evil they once were, due to developments in fuel, so he needn't feel that guilty about not taking public transport. After a short journey, Jeff arrived at his hotel, which was a different one from the one that he had stayed in previously. Most people would have gone and had a good rest after such a long journey, but not Jeff. After checking in, he had a quick freshen up and a very quick bite to eat before making his way back out onto the streets. Time was short, and he intended to use every available minute to track down this woman he had seen. To prove to his mother and son that he had been right.

He had started by making his way back to the conference centre that he had been at only a few short days before. He hoped that he wouldn't meet any associates there. That was the last thing that he needed right now. From the conference centre, he traced his footsteps back to the hotel that he had stayed in whilst he had been at the conference. It was the best place to start. If she had been there then, she may well be around there now. Whilst he walked the distance, he stopped passers-by, and asked them if they had seen a woman matching Lucy's description. He showed them a photograph of her that he had brought with him. Not the one in his bedroom, for that was too precious, but one that he had found whilst scrabbling about in a cupboard. He had no idea where or when it had been taken, but it was a good likeness. It was a hard, fruitless task. Some people were sympathetic; others dismissed him with a shrug of their shoulders. Some simply pushed past him, seeing him as yet another father looking for a daughter who had run off from a small town to seek fame and fortune on Broadway. Feeling more than a little dejected, he began to make his way to the hotel he was currently staying in, still stopping people to ask if they had seen the russet-haired woman in the photgraph. Once he had reached the hotel, he decided that he couldn't give up that easily, so stood outside, asking people for their help. He felt a tap on his shoulder.

"I believe that I may be able to help you, Sir," said a female voice. Jeff turned round, only to start in surprise.

"Penny? What are you doing here?"