Perfect Remains. Helen Fields
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‘What are you going to do to me?’ Jayne asked. It was said remarkably plainly in the circumstances, he thought admiringly.
‘I’m an educated man, Jayne, not an animal. I am forging a better life for myself and for you.’ He leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. ‘Though to be honest, I’m not sure how long it’ll be before Elaine has outstayed her welcome. She’s not working out the way I’d hoped.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ Jayne asked. King stared into her eyes, wondering what she was thinking. Was she hopeful of release, curious about him, too scared to understand her position yet? She seemed full of exciting possibilities. A paragon of potential. She reminded him vaguely of his sister. Not that Eleanor had lived to see adulthood, but if she had, she might have been a lot like the reverend. Their parents had always said Ellie was destined to be a leader with her extraordinary academic ability, not to mention her flair for music. She had been almost perfect. Sometimes annoyingly so.
‘I’m doing it for us. For a future where we can learn together, appreciate one another, stretch our minds in glorious ways.’
‘What if I don’t want to?’ Jayne asked. King thought about it. She wasn’t being defiant, he decided, or difficult. It was a genuine question and it deserved a genuine answer.
‘You will want to,’ he said. ‘Eventually. I’m here to guide you.’
‘This is wrong,’ she said. ‘Please, think about what you’re doing.’
‘Jayne, don’t,’ he counselled her. ‘Elaine tried, God knows she begged for days, and it won’t work. There’s a plan, you see. Sometimes a human has to aspire to a life greater than the one they’re born to. I am more than the sum of my parts, as are you. The physical being is unimportant. Elaine’s finger will heal, pain is transient. It’s a conduit for progression, enlightenment.’
‘I see,’ Jayne said simply. He waited for more, but that was it. He’d won. For today he should be content with that much.
He was exhausted, drained by disciplining Elaine and all the cleaning. Locking the door on his way out, he heard a whisper, considered going back in, but decided not to. They would need time to get to know one another. It wasn’t until he reached the bottom of the stairs that his tired brain finally unscrambled the words he’d heard.
‘We’re going to die here,’ Jayne had said, in that plain way of hers.
Reginald King thought that smoked salmon and mushroom risotto would make an excellent choice for supper.
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