Soul to Soul

There was a brief ominous pause, and then Elizabeth went into what sounded like a tirade in her own language. The young man interjected occasionally but it was Elizabeth who held the floor.

I saw a flush of embarrassment creep over the young man's face and finally he turned to me and said, "Deeply I apologise...is language...my mother she say you her very dear friend so I think..."

Elizabeth interrupted, again addressing the young man in her own language, then he went on, "I thank you for being friend to my mother and she now need friend. I bring her sad news."

"He come all this way to tell me that they took Ector off the life supports and he has died. I have beautiful son."

She hugged him and spoke again in her own language. I had never known Ector so I couldn't feel sorry about his death, but I could feel sorry for Elizabeth.

"I'm sorry to here that, Elizabeth; if there's anything I can do...?"

Unexpectedly she smiled and said, "No sorrow, his soul in heaven now. Come we have much to do."

"Er...what have we got to do, Elizabeth?" I asked, wishing I had her simplicity of faith.

"My lovely son bring priest from Ruthvenia, he awaits us in chapel; we go and pray. Must change, you wait, speak with my son."

"Lovely" was perhaps not quite the right word for Jeffris. He was certainly a handsome youth and appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen years of age.

"Awkwardly I began, "So you've come all this way to tell your mother about your father's death?"

"Yes, grandfather say, it better than letter or telephone."

"Yes."

"You are mother's...er...dear friend?"

"I believe so?"

"Your souls have touched?"

"I...er...yes, I think our souls have touched."

"Your souls have touched but you do not think she is beautiful. I have heard of such soul meetings before; what you say, it is a friendship...er...plasticnic?"

"I think you mean Platonic; and yes, I do think your mother is a very lovely woman."

"You think?"

"Yes."

"You think her face and body are good to look upon?"

"My God," I thought, "like mother like son. He says it like he feels it."

"Yes, she is very good to look upon."

"And your souls have touched?"

"Yes they...look Jeffris, if you mean are we very good friends, yes we are."

"I mean, but not understand."

The convoluted conversation was starting to get on my nerves so I asked irritably, "What exactly is it you don't understand, Jeffris?"

"Mother say you very good friend and your souls have touched, yes?"

"Yes."

"You say your soul touch hers, yes?"

"Yes...yes Jeffris."

"You also say she good to look at, yes?"

"Yes she is but..."

"Then why you not my mother's lover?"

"Jeffris, we...I...er...your mother and I we're..."

"We go."

Elizabeth had entered the room. She was dressed in black, and damn it, she looked lovely in it.

"We go now," she said again.

"I...I'll see you when you come back," I said.

"No...no Andrew, you come, we pray. Priest waits for us."

"But I don't...I'm not dressed for church."

"No matter; I tell priest you friend and foreigner, he understand, come."

She took my hand, and unresisting I let myself be dragged out to the car Jeffris had arrived in. It was a great black Rolls Royce and chauffer driven; I was almost bundled into it.

As we drove away I gasped, "Where did you get this from?"

It was Jeffris who answered; "My grandfather president, your government honour him."

He paused for a moment then and said rather proudly, "I am president also."

"You're...how..."

Elizabeth intervened; "He means he is president of the Ruthvenia Trade Union Alliance."

"What!"

"Great honour," Jeffris said. "My grandfather and I argue often, but it only matter of form."

"My God," I thought, "what sort of Musical Comedy State is Ruthvenia? The King demands it becomes a republic and the gets elected President; his grandson is President of the Trade union Alliance, and his daughter is trying to run a shop here."

I wondered what the rest of the family were doing. Was the president's wife, the late Queen, leader of the Left Wing Socialist Party?

Jeffris seemed, like his mother, to have the knack of picking up on one's thoughts.

"My grandmother is chairperson of the Nurses Union; she and I also argue; she ask too much."

Elizabeth picked up the flow and said rather sadly, "My sister leads the Right Wing Neo-Fascist Party, 'Ruthvenia for the Ruthvenians,' it only got five members.

We pulled up outside a small chapel that announced that it was the "Orthodox Church of Ruthvenia." I had never seen it before.

We went inside and it was aglow with candles.

Not one, but two priests awaited us. They both bowed to Elizabeth and said, "We greet you, your royal highness.

Elizabeth made the introductions. "Father Alexis, Father Alexandrios, my soul friend Andrew Davies."

"Welcome brother Andrew," Father Alexis said. "We shall pray for the soul of His Royal Highness, Ector."

"And also the soul of Andrew's soul bond Anne," Elizabeth added.

"At your command, highness," Father Alexandrios said.

Elizabeth and Jeffris knelt at the altar rail. Not wanting to be the odd one out I knelt with them.

The priests began to intone in what I supposed to be Ruthvenian. At one point we were given candles. Elizabeth and Jeffris lit theirs from some of the other candles, and trying to keep up I did the same. Our three candles were place upon the altar. There was some more chanting and then the priests came to us and placed their hands on our heads, saying something I did not understand, but it felt like a blessing.

The priest kissed Elizabeth and Jeffris on their cheeks, and then kissed me.

In English Father Alexis said, "You are free, my son, you are richly blessed."

Elizabeth said, "Thank you fathers, I honour you; and Father Alexis, on your return to Ruthvenia tell his Holiness the Archbishop I remember him with much tenderness."

"I will, your Highness," Alexis replied.

Both priests bowed to Elizabeth and we left.

Back in the car Elizabeth said, "Now you see what it is like to be a princess. The Ruthvenian Orthodox Church has never come to terms with the republic, even though the Archbishop is the secretary of the Left Wing Alliance."

I wanted to express my confusion, but Jeffris intervened.

"Mother, I must leave tonight. The Printers Union wishes me to negotiate for them a new contract."

He glanced at me and then Elizabeth. "Now your souls are released you will have much to talk of. Will we soon see you back in Ruthvenia, mother? My grandfather grows old and the presidency weighs heavily upon him. The people await your return, and you know what they will want."

"Yes," replied Elizabeth, "but I must first make my soul union here."

I felt as if I was – if I might put it crudely – a spare prick at a party.

We had arrived back at Elizabeth's house and we alighted and went inside. It was all very weird, and it went on in that oddly formal way that had begun at the chapel.

"Mother I leave you now. Soon we shall be together and..."

"We shall argue."

He smiled and said, "I hope so mother."

"Tell the printers that I think that their one hundred and twenty five Ruths each week should be one hundred and fifty."

"I shall tell them mother, and the prime minister, and that greedy media baron; is he not of this country?"

"He was, my son, but he changed allegiances to get more profit."

Farewell, then, mother."

He bowed and kissed her hand, and left.

"Andrew, have we got time to go to the plant nursery, I want to get plant for my bedroom?"

"Yes your high...Elizabeth, but what was all that about?"

"Ah, yes, you did not understand."

"What?"

"The priests prayed for the soul of Ector. They prayed that he would now release my earthly soul so that I may unite my soul with another. I told them about Anne, and they also prayed to her. She said she released your soul and all of us would meet again in paradise. Is that not beautiful?"

"Yes...yes," I replied, not sure about this heavenly liberty. "Shall we go to the plant nursery?"

We got the plant but I felt as if was living in some strange fairy land.

Elizabeth seemed unperturbed by what had taken place, but me...what had I got myself into?

I must admit that I was rather fed up with what I saw as this royalist mumbo jumbo about releasing souls and meeting in paradise. I was very fond of Elizabeth, but all this stuff wasn't on my mental screen. I started to wonder if I should have less to do with Elizabeth before she got me rising up to the seventh heaven.

Going back to work settled my mind a bit. The nice, everyday problems of sorting out who wanted what were a solace. It was mid-week when the wheels fell off again.

I had been working late and when I arrived home a doleful Elizabeth was sitting on my doorstep.

"Andrew, I have been so foolish."

"What?"

"I went out and shut the door, and left my key inside."

"Ah." Naturally our doors were designed so that once shut they could not be opened without a key.

"What can I do, Andrew?"

"Well, I could try and get one of those burglar-proof screens off one of your windows, but I haven't got the right tool bit. Or you could call a locksmith, but I don't know whether they work this late; you'd better come into my place and we'll try and telephone one of them."

We tried endless locksmiths and none of them were answering.

What can I do?" wailed Elizabeth.

Well, you could go to a motel for the night," I replied, "or...or...why not sleep in my second bedroom?"

"Ah, Andrew, you are so kind. I sleep here."

"On second thoughts," I said, "you sleep in my bed; it's much bigger than the one in the second bedroom."

"No...no...you kind, I sleep in second bedroom."

"As you wish," I replied, almost adding, You're Royal Highness."

"It is good," she replied, "I cook?"

As it happened we managed to produce between us a meal of sausages and mashed potatoes, plus some other vegetables.

After we had eaten and cleared up we sat talking for a while about plants, restaurants we might visit, and possible visits to the beach. All very innocuous, and as far as I was concerned very dubious, given how was feeling about royalty.

When it came time to go to bed Elizabeth said, "I have nothing to wear in bed."

I suggested that she might wear one of my spare sets of pyjamas, but deciding that they would be far too big for her, we settled on one of my shirts.

Elizabeth showered and bade me goodnight with a virtuous kiss on the cheek and her now familiar, "You very kind."

I took my shower and then got into bed.

I know this sounds all very pure and insipid, but believe me it wasn't. The vision of Elizabeth in my shirt, and in the room right next to mine, gave rise to lustful thoughts; this despite my tentative resolve to have less to do with Her Royal Highness.

Crisis time came at God knows what hour of the night. A hand touched my shoulder.

"Andrew...Andrew..."

"Wha...what...?"

I tried to shake off the fog of sleep. In the dark I could not see her, but obviously it had to be Elizabeth.

"I lie to you, Andrew."

I reached for the bed light switch and turned it on. Elizabeth was kneeling beside my bed.

"I tell you a lie, Andrew, you forgive?"

"What lie?"

She held up a key.

"I did not lose key, only pretend."

"Why...why pretend?"

"You kind, I knew you let me stay with you."

"Yes...yes, but why?"

"Our souls."

"Now don't start that again."

"One day at beach you say you like, yes?"

"Yes, but..."

"My son, he said, 'Mother, this man Andrew, your souls have touched in friendship; I think your souls must be one.' Now Ector and Anne have released our souls, I think also our souls should be united."

"United?"

Suddenly Elizabeth seemed to have a grasp of English she had not demonstrated before.

"You stupid man, I love you, why you not see that?"

"I...I..."

"You say you like, you gentle friend, why you not take me to your bed? Ector gone, Anne gone, I...our souls....I love; you not love me?"

"Elizabeth I..."

I stopped. It was strange, I felt as if I was free of Anne. I was free to love again – was that because of all the praying and chanting in the chapel?

Elizabeth insinuated herself into the bed.

"You like, I make our souls one."

She pulled close to me, her body was warm and soft; I got warmer.

"How I tell you I love you," she whispered close to my ear. "You like, I give."

She was still wearing my shirt, but now she pulled it off and lay back on the bed.

"You see me on the beach and like; look now and like. I prayed that you like me; I lie to you about the key; see how I want our souls to be one?"

I looked at her in the dim light of the bed reading lamp. She was beautiful, but I had known from the start she would be. Those soft rounded breasts with their delicate pink nipples, and the little triangle of pubic hair, she looked so chaste.

"Oh yes, Elizabeth, I like, I love."

"And it is good that our souls should be one?"

"It is good."

Afterwards, when passion was momentarily spent and I held her in my arms, she asked, "It is good?"

"It is good, my love."

"Soon we go before Father Alexandrios and make our soul vows before God?"

"Yes, on one condition."

"What is that?"

"You do not stand on chairs again."

"Only if you promise not to ride horses."

I have learned to speak Ruthvenian, but it still feels strange to stand one pace behind the newly elected President. But then, at night in bed we know that our souls are one.

Elizabeth does not stand on chairs, and I do not ride horses.