The flicker of fear, the moment of hesitation melted into decision. He would go where a real family awaited him. The unknown, for which his mum and auntie had long prepared him to meet with trepidation and reluctance, was suddenly a welcome place.
'Yes, all right. But my clothes? I've got my school blazer and'
'There is a suitcase full of clothes for you in the hotel. Have you ever been to London before?'
'Granddad, I've never even been in a taxi!'
'Then a taxi we shall take to Derby. Then a first-class coach on the train just for you.'
'I'll need a passport. Won't I need papers or something? On television, when they'
'Yes! Yes, my son. You'll have all of that. I have taken care of everything.' The old man squeezed Andrew's shoulder, grinning down at Andrew. 'Everything.'
Andrew grinned back. 'Is my family rich then, Granddad?'
'We are an old and wealthy family, my son.'
'Yes, Auntie told me. You don't mind if she told me, do you? She's kept the secret from Mum all these years.'
'Of course not. When you write to your mother and aunt, once you are settled, it will no longer be a secret. You can relax and be free.'
Suddenly, Andrew realized that it was no longer raining and a taxi waited at the bottom of the street. It was dark, the streets glistened, his life was ahead of him and he was going to his father's home!
Of course, there was no father waiting, though there was a rich family on a huge estate in Turkey. Granddad told Andrew once he was on the aeroplane, strapped into a seat in first class 33,000 feet up in the air, that he would one day help him find his father. For now though, there was an ancient and revered family waiting just for him in a home far grander than anything he could imagine, where he would never feel lonely again.
Andrew realized then, too late, that the words his mum and auntie had bantered about that evening two days ago, 'kidnapped' and 'paedophile' now related to him. He told Granddad this, but the old man denied it. Andrew had been chosen . He was special. No one would ever touch him in that way; he was a sacred vessel. Everything the old man said was full of vagaries and obfuscations. Andrew couldn't get a straight answer. The long limousine ride lulled Andrew into a series of naps, each time waking him into the nightmare. They finally slowed as they came to a towering wall of pale bricks covered with climbing vines. Two men without shirts on and fabric wrapped around their heads pulled on the iron gate in the wall until it was open wide enough for the limousine.
When Andrew saw the great mansion, he still hoped that his father really was inside and that Granddad had just been playing around with him. Within were many other boys and girls, some near his age, some younger and older. They spoke many languages and dressed in white, from neck to toes. They wandered about freely, but they all seemed sad like the boy who'd died on the triangle, their eyes empty.
Granddad sat on the chair beside the large bed that would be Andrew's. Andrew changed into a white shirt and trousers and white sandals. Granddad watched, but was not curious. His stare was benign. Disinterested.
Andrew shivered, though the room was warm. 'Why did you choose me? You had Frank Delaney.'
'Yes, the boy who came to me. Frank was his name?' Granddad looked out the window to the bleak, rust and grey sunset, musing. 'Frank. A hard boy. Old in his soul. He lacked the most important attribute. The essence for which we travel the world. The pure emanation. It was you all the while, Andrew. The moment I saw you, I knew .'
Andrew felt emboldened by pride in having been chosen. No one had really noticed Andrew before, at least not to pick him out from all the others. And never before Frank Delaney. Perhaps this gave him power. He could survive this!
'What happened to him? The boy you were with. Did you kill him?'
Granddad laughed dryly. 'Oh, no. Why would I have done that? He was a great loss.' The old man got up and went to the window. 'No, I didn't kill him, but I was at fault in a way. I was to bring him here in full essence, but I was too hungry. I took from him and could not stop myself. He was exhausted from my feeding, not watching where he was going. I was deeply upset by his passing. My tears were real. Once he was gone, there was nothing for me to do but wait for you.'
'Do you even know if I have a father somewhere?' Andrew was scared, angry, and hopeful all at once.
'Oh, yes. I'd know it if you had lost him. Boys like you, growing up with over-protective single mothers, absent fathers, sometimes grow into angry, hard young men. Just as Frank will, though his father is in the house. Then it is too late. These boys meet the 'old man', as they inevitably call him, and hate him. Not you, young Andrew. You have kept the hope, a rich part of the essence. You will be prized.' The granddad walked to him and placed his hands on his shoulders. 'But you must retain your essence until you meet the mistress, so I will leave you. I've said too much already.'
'I don't understand any of this. Don't go. Please. I don't want to be alone in here.' He began to cry.
'I don't dare stay, young Andrew. I'd be too tempted. You are my penance, my find to make up for the losses I was so foolishly unable to protect from myself.' The old man saw the fear in Andrew, his confusion. 'You are not a prisoner, son. Look around. Meet some of the others.' He went to the door. 'Are you hungry?'
Andrew nodded, though he was more afraid than hungry. His stomach was a tight fist in his belly.
'There is more food than you can dream of downstairs. Go find the dining-room. Make friends. See all the toys and books and games available around the grounds. One day soon, you will wonder why you ever thought to leave.' He waited a moment. 'You are thinking you'd like to leave, aren't you?'
Again, Andrew nodded. There were no other thoughts in his head.
'And you're thinking of your mother, your aunt. What will become of them without you?'
Andrew looked away, his eyes aching, his face wet with tears.
'Soon you will not care. Find comfort in the knowledge that you will have no cares, and that you will be
