GENESIS (GODS CHAIN) (29 page)

An unexpected
ly
strong
,
cool breeze lifted her beautiful
,
golden-brown
hair around her face. Francesca’s natural curls lofted and swirled about. Feeling full of life
,
her spirit
rose
.

The path
before her
led
to the Administration Building Offices.
Getting lost
in the garden
was easy
—she
reminisc
ed
about the number of times she’d been lost
inside this maze of mature landscaped gardens when she first took the job a while back
,
but
she
had
quickly realized that
St Peter’s was always a good compass.

Sensing footsteps behind her
, Francesca
turned around to greet
whichever
colleague
approached
.
Surprisingly
,
there was no one there
behind her
!
No sound other than the chatter of birds and
the
noises of insects
assailed her
. The narrow path was empty. Francesca could not see beyond the bend
behind her
or the curve
before her
.

Very strange,
she thought
.
What a fool
I’m being
.
I do not really want to be up in that
s
erver room again for a
long
while
,
but that’s the job or I’ll end up in a straight jacket
.
She gratefully latched on to a momentary distraction.
I am definitely going to have a word with Mr Messy, Massimo,
for
leaving that junk food sitting around
.

Turning
to leave,
she began to walk again. Her brown leather handbag was now swinging a little faster on her shoulder.
This is ridiculous
of me, getting
spooked two days in a row.
I must need a holiday or something
.

Some of the paths criss
-
crossed or joined
in
a “Y” shape
,
but
most
generally channelled in the direction of the offices. She looked up as a plane flew high overhead in the distant blue sky.
Then she heard another sound, this time much closer
but
difficult to make out.

Whisper
,
whisper
...
her left ear twitched a little.
Struggling to
separate the new noise from the
background noise
, she heard it again
...
whisper
...
whisper
...
.

Her immediate instinct was to instantly bolt.
As fast as her legs could carry her
,
Francesca
sprint
ed towards the basilica.
B
efore she knew it
, she was
running around one curve and then the next
,
passing an occasional
empty
bench.
Her own breathing struggl
ed as
she ran
and
her legs
began
to slow
,
drain
ed as they were
of energy.
The footsteps were right behind her now
—
she
look
ed
back
over her shoulder
as she sped
forward
,
and
then
...
WHACK!
She
hit something!

‘Oh! Bloody leave me alone!’ she screamed in panic
,
h
er eyes
tightly
shut
.
Someone grabbed her
as
she tumbled in mid-air
, and
b
oth bodies fell hard to the ground
.
A
scrap and twist of arms and legs ensued
as Francesca struggled to free herself from her attacker.

Using a combination of natural instincts and incredible strength,
she
managed to tumble over and onto the
other
person. She was on top!
The man’s arms held her shoulders firmly
,
and she grabbed the inside of his wrists
although her
eyes
were still closed tight
.
His voice began to penetrate her
terror
.

‘Francesca! Francesca
!
’
the man’s voice
repeat
ed
her name over and over again.
His song
-
like voice was warm and comforting as it
broke
through her fear
,
melting her iced mind. She slowly opened her eyes.
Ciriaco
?

‘
What is going on? What has frightened you, Francesca?’
he asked,
staring into her
terror-filled
eyes. ‘Calm down
,
and here, I’ll help you up
.
’
T
hey both rose together
,
but
Ciriaco
held her protectively for a moment, checking behind
her
to see if she was hurt.

His green eyes had a natural sparkle like
emeralds
as she looked into them
.
‘Let
’
s get you tidied up, eh?’ he offered her a clean white handkerchief from his breast pocket and dusted her face a little while she used her hands on her trousers.

‘Ciriaco, don
’
t think me mad, but I think
that
someone was following me,’
she explained
in a petite
,
frightened voice, looking back in fear
.
‘
I’m s
orry
that
I smashed into you
.
A
re, are you ok?’

‘
Si
Francesca, it
’
s not a problem
—
no bones broken
.
A
re
you
hurt?’
he asked
in a stronger voice.

‘No
,
I am fine, really.
Only my pride
is hurt,
I think
.
I am glad to see you.’

‘Look
,
let
’
s walk together and
you can
tell me what is going on
.
’
H
e lifted her chin with his hand gently and smiled warmly into her eyes.

They were at the office five minutes later.
After cleaning and tidying herself up in the ladies room
,
Francesca entered the
IT
office.
The office was bright but cool in the early morning air as the
s
un shone through the tall
,
elongated office windows.
She stopped and looked down at Ciriaco
,
whose
headset rest
ed lightly
over his spiky
,
short black hair.
Gazing up
at
her, he finished a quick helpdesk call.

‘
Grazie
Ciriaco,
’ she murmured.
‘T
hanks again for helping me
.
I really got a scare.
’ She smiled into his eyes.
‘
It may have been my imagination
,
although the sound of footsteps behind me at the time seemed real enough.
Lucky you came down the other footpath.
...
Oops
,
sorry again
—
it was not so lucky for you,’ she giggled a little
,
holding
her hand to her mouth
and
trying to hide her face as it became a deeper shade of pink.

‘Here is your handkerchief back,
grazie
. Where did you come from?’
Ciriaco smiled
,
folding his handkerchief
back
into the top pocket of his black pinstripe jacket
, which was
now lightly soiled on the arms and elbows.
Usually he
arrived
quite smartly dressed for business
, but
by the end of the day
he
would be down to his waistcoat.
Helpdesk work was more difficult than other
professionals
gave credit for.