Lost Soul - John/Christian - 7. Part 7

The boy lay in bed with his head tightly tucked under the covers. He could feel the heat rapidly building but did not know where it was coming from. All he knew was that he was too scared to move. He heard loud voices outside, and then he heard the glass of his bedroom window smash as it fell across his bed that lay directly underneath it. Strong hands gripped him as he was ripped from the bed, and the voices got louder as he was passed around. Every pass gave him a weird feeling that went from the pit of his stomach through his body up the back of his neck ending in the back of his head, a feeling not unlike being on a roller coaster. Everything was a blur, and he hurt, not physical pain. It was emotional pain from deep inside him. A strange and surreal feeling came over him as he saw the caravan glowing and engulfed in flames before it exploded.

Then that strange 'roller coaster' feeling overcame him again, and he was lying on the wet ground staring at the marker on his parent's grave. He was running when a familiar-looking man held him and started speaking, the words could not be heard as they sounded like a loud, unintelligible mumbling, but he felt calmer looking into the man's eyes. Those eyes conveyed promises of love, happiness, and so much more.

Then there was that feeling again. This time, there was panic. He was now a grown man, driving a car on a long road passing hills and mountains. That feeling got him again as the car morphed into a plane, and when he looked out of the windows, the mountains had become clouds. That strange feeling was now coming in waves, and he was standing in church next to the man who made promises with his eyes. Those eyes were crying as they gazed at a coffin. When he looked at the people on his other side, they were very familiar, and he felt close to them, but they shimmered as if they were not really there, and then they vanished.

Then faces began appearing. His birth parents. Aunt Ethel and Uncle John. His mom and dad. All had said the same thing to him before fading away. “We love you, and we will always watch over you.”

“NNNNNOOOOOO.” Christian sat bolt upright in bed, his head in his hands, crying. “I love you too. Why do you have to leave me? Why?” Christian's body shook as he cried. The detail of his dream became hazy, and he continued to cry.

The door opened quietly. Gary stepped into the bedroom. “Christian, how are you feeling?” Gary moved lightly across the room and sat on the bed next to his friend taking him in his arms and hugging him. The way that good friends do.

“I'm feeling alone, lost and deserted. In short, Gary, I feel like shit.” Understandably Christian looked like a mess. His clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them, his usually smart, impeccable hair was all over the place, and his eyes were puffy and red from crying. “What happened to him, Gary. What happened to my dad? He was fit and healthy, and I thought he was starting to enjoy life again.”

“I don't know Chris, and I know what you mean about him being fit and healthy. What I do know is this. He lost his sparkle when your mom died, and never seemed to get that back. We both know how much he loved her and that he was still in love with her when she died. As he died at home, there will have to be an autopsy. But in my opinion, although it's not a recognised medical condition. I think he died of a broken heart.” Gary's tears ran down his face and wet his friend's hair as they hugged.

“Where is he, Gary. I need to see him and say goodbye. Please, take me to him.”

“I will. You go wash your face and smarten yourself up, then we can go. I'll be waiting in the lounge.” Gary left Christian's bedroom and returned to the lounge where Eduardo was nervously waiting. When a hysterical Christian called earlier that night, they were still in the taxi together. Eduardo insisted on accompanying Gary on his mission of mercy.

“How is Señor Christian? I know he has to be upset, but will he be okay?” Eduardo's voice was full of concern and sorrow. He knew the pain of losing a parent. He worked for his grandfather Jorge, who he affectionately called Papa so that he could support his Mami and himself.

“He will be okay Eduardo. He will be given time, lots of time.”

When Christian entered the lounge, he was surprised by Eduardo but felt comforted as the young waiter crossed the room, enveloping him in his arms as he spoke. “Señor Christian, I am so sorry to learn of your loss. I know that you loved your Papi and that you will miss him. We will all miss Señor Phillip, but I do know this, he will always be with you Señor Christian, here, in your heart.” As he spoke those words, he touched Christian on his chest directly over his heart and lightly kissed him on the cheek. It was a brief, fleeting kiss of compassion from someone who understood his loss.

Gary Called for a taxi to take them to Manchester Royal Infirmary, where he made arrangements, enabling Christian to see his father in the viewing area of the hospital mortuary.

The following day Christian called Watson's Funeral Services to start putting everything into place for the funeral. He was dreading the future, particularly the next few days. When Ethel and John Watson passed away, the business was given to Christian's childhood crush and namesake Christian Watson.

Later that day, when the two men met, they hugged tightly and wept for their own, and each other's loss. It was then that the younger of the two Christians learned that his father had already made his funeral plans. All that remained was for the elder of the two men to put those plans into action when they were allowed.

When the funeral took place, it was an emotional affair attended by many of the top businessmen in the North West of England and some from the South and London. They were not just Clients of Phillip's company. They were friends, some closer than others. Jorge, Eduardo and Eduardo's Mami were there from Gaucho Restaurant, as were half of the staff. All of them held the family in high esteem. Many had received advice, and physical help from them and felt Christian's loss.

Christian's grief felt never-ending, and once again, he turned to Jeff Smith, the counsellor who helped him when his mother passed away. During one of his sessions with Jeff, he learned of Jeff's nighttime activities on the streets of Manchester.

“Jeff, can I come with you sometimes? I'd like to know what it is that you do?”

“Why would you want to do that Christian? It's not easy work. It takes it out of you emotionally. I know that I often feel drained by it, that's why counselling is only a part-time thing for me.”

“I don't know really. I just feel that although I've been put through the mill a bit throughout my life, I've been lucky. Dad always said that it made him feel good when he helped others. It was something that his family got brought up to do, so I'd like to honour him by trying to continue some of that tradition.”

“Okay, but dress down a bit and wear some cheaper clothes, or you will stand out too much and do not let anyone know your real name, or some will try to take advantage of you.”

Reverting to using his birth name Christian became John. Accompanying Jeff two or three times a week. They went out in Jeff's car, served hot drinks and sandwiches to people who lived on the street and sometimes spoke with them, learning of their troubles. Jeff sometimes gave advice. 'John', had developed the persona of a young man who sometimes slept on the streets but also 'sofa surfed' in his friend's homes, something that he hoped would never end.

'John', enjoyed what he did and started to fund Jeff's work which he expanded. One night, 'John' witnessed what he felt was tragic, and the words of one of the people he helped Jeff to help, rang out in his ears.

“We might have lost everything we have, but we still have our dignity. If I ever see anyone behave like this again and treat any of our fellow street people badly, you will have me to deal with.” The scruffy but smart if that’s possible, man, returned to speak to the people with the food. “I’m sorry, but I have standards, and nobody, especially a lady, should be treated the way that everyone, especially Bill, has treated this lady tonight.”

John was shocked and ran home, touched by the wisdom and words of this man tears streaked his face as he succumbed to restless sleep. He felt guilty for having the wealth that he had. Thanks to his father's hard work, and shrewd investments, Christian owned one of the most successful accounting and financial advising businesses in the north of the country. He owned a lot of property, land, and buildings, and he had a trust fund that meant he lived very comfortably and would last well beyond his life. There were no restrictions on how he used his trust fund or what he could withdraw from it.

When Christian woke the next day, he had some idea of what he wanted to do, but he needed to speak to Jeff. His help and advice were crucial.