Eyes Of Conscience

PERSPECTIVES

“Molly,” she sighed as she took the doll from her father stepping to his side.

“You remember?” Tremas eyes lit up with delight as he turned a sideways glance to her.

“Yes I do,” Nancy said gazing into the dolls button blue eyes.  “Did I really insist you kiss her?”

Laughing Tremas ruffled Nancy’s hair.  “You did!” he sighed as he made his way towards the ottoman, “in here are your books,” waving a hand at the wardrobe, “there are your dresses and,” he blushed, “undergarments,”  then he stepped up to the drawers, “and here are your night things,  I believe you should rest!” he stood against the rounded, arched mullioned windows that were framed by the same coloured curtains as the bed, when night fell this room would be jet black.  Underneath was a wide window seat, upon this Tremas sat.  “Nyssa,” he began, “there is one thing I would like to ask.”

“Yes?” Nancy said sinking onto the bed clutching onto Molly.  Why did he suddenly seem so grim?

“This mother that you have managed to captivate so well in that portrait...”

Gulping, she tensed up as she could see where this was leading: “Father, please, I am suddenly feeling tired!”

Shaking his head he smiled shyly, “this Dorothy... “ sighing he looked at her, “to you she is real I suppose...”  Nancy nodded, “Does she have a... Is she...?” he waved his hands helplessly and slapped them on his knees, “has she...”

“Does she have a husband?” she finished for him.  

“I am probably foolish in supposing...” his eyes held out all hope.

What could she answer?  Yes, sort of... She is in love but he could be dead? This man is in your image but has the vilest hearts a person can ever own?  No, she sighed.  Be economical with the truth... Yes, she could do that.

“She is in love with a man somewhat like you but...”

“Ah,” he interrupted, eyes clouded as the last chance of hope had been taken away from him.  Immediately, she gently laid the doll on the bed, stood up and rushed up to him.  “I must have behaved badly at some point for tragedy to keep befalling upon me.”

“No, father!” she said fervently taking his hands in hers, “no! this man is not worthy to clean her shoes let alone be united with her forever as he is the cruellest being known to the universe!  YOU,” she stroked his cheeks as she felt tears sting her eyes, “you are worthy of her and I can promise you that I SHALL find a way to...”

Tremas tenderly caressed his daughter’s damask cheek burying his fingers in her hair: “Alas, Nyssa,” he kissed the top of her head, “there is a major difference between hope and dreams... At least one has a chance with hope...”

With that he rose up from the window seat and opened the third drawer handing her a long thick white gown.  Nancy wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all!  Slowly, he shuffled out of the room his shoulders bowed down.  She could feel his loneliness.

Suddenly she realised that she could put right the wrongs she had caused.  Quickly she shed her tee shirt and beige shorts and placed the robe over her head before removing her bra.  Lifting her hair out of the back.  She crept up to the window and saw her father sit out in their little courtyard, his back was turned but she could see his shoulders shaking.  Mourning for his lost wife?  Or weeping because he had seen someone he could give his heart to again but that possibility confined in a dream?

Nancy took her purse out of her discarded shorts pocket.  Lifting the flap so she could look at her mother.  The photo was not there.  Narrowing her eyes she stepped up to the window again, this time her father was sat on a seat staring down at something.  From where she stood she could just about see that it was her mother that he was looking at so lovingly.