Sun and Moon (part 10)

“There’s something odd going on with Julia and Umbry,” Clay said. He had known for a while that he and Francesca would need to have this conversation, although he hadn’t been quite sure what he would say. Now that the words were finally coming out, it was easier.

“Yes, so I have noticed,” she replied, and then paused to think, moving her chair back a bit and taking her eyes off the puzzle in front of her. “There is trauma there — or rather, there has been. Certain aspects of their situation have not added up in my mind to a consistent whole. I believe, Clayton, that there is evidence we may be dealing with matters of the unconscious mind.”

Clay nodded. “Glad I’m not the only one to notice it. I was starting to think it was me. I’ve mostly been getting a general feeling, a sense of something lying just below the surface. It’s been very hard to pin down, exactly. I suspect that they themselves may not even be aware of it. Francesca, have you spotted any specific anomaly, something we could work with to try to understand better what they are going through?”

Francesca nodded slowly, the logical part of her mind approaching this puzzle much as she would approach any other. “You mentioned Frederick to them during your very first encounter, is this not correct?”

“Yes,” nodded Clay, “to Julia.”

“And what was her response?”

Clay thought back. “Yes … right. I showed her some photos, and asked her whether Freddie looked familiar. I believe her exact response was ‘He rings a bell, but I can’t say.’”

“You see, my dear Clayton,” Francesca exclaimed, “There it is. Frederick spoke often of his two saviors, those intrepid young detectives. Against the views of entire legal establishment and received opinion of the constablry, they insisted that he was innocent of any crime. Correctly as it turned out. It was quite the impressive feat of sleuthing to achieve any age, and I believe they were still in their teenage years at the time.”

“So how is it possible,” Clay mused aloud, “that Julia would have difficulty recognizing him?”

“Clearly it is not possible, my dear. Their paths would certainly have crossed on multiple occasions. That is why I suspect a repression of memory. There has clearly been some occurrence so overwhelming or abhorrent in its effect upon their psyches that the entire memory has simply been placed safely out of reach by the minds of these two young women.”

Clay nodded. “I don’t need convincing. The problem now is how to pull them out of it, to bring them back to their full abilities, before the enemy makes his move.”

Francesca smiled. “Why Clayton, you of all individuals should know something of the path one must walk in such situations. Take your own sad case as an example. I remember the first time, I believe it was in Cagne-sur-Mer, when you first introduced me to…”

“We don’t need to speak of her,” Clay cut her off, with a savage curtness that surprised even himself.

“No, my dear, we do not,” Francesca replied gently. “I am sorry if I have spoken out of turn. Besides, we have, as you would say, other fish to fly.”

There was a pause. “Fry,” said Clay.

“Fry?” Francesca looked confused. “Fry what?”

“Other fish to fry. That’s how we say it. Although I like your version better.” He smiled apologetically, and she returned his smile. They were still standing there, simply looking at one another, when Julia came in, her eyes bloodshot.

“My dear,” Francesca exclaimed, “Have you been crying?”

“No, don’t be silly,” Julia lied. “Everything is fine.”

“I am so glad to hear it,” Francesca said quickly. “Silly me. Would you be a dear and prepare one of those delightful espressos for me?”

Julia beamed at her two friends, her usual sunny expression somewhat restored. “Yes, that’d be great. I might even make two.”