28. Theodora
28
THEODORA
FLORENCE
MALACHITE: Amplifies energies, protection, spiritual guidance and insight
T he installation is in place for the opening night of the Coperta di Usella exhibition at the Palazzo Davanzati . I’m savouring the ambience of Firenze for the last time and caught in the buzz of the Piazza di San Lorenzo , dodging tour groups guided by brightly coloured scarves waved high on poles, and perusing the market stalls. At a stall offering tourist souvenirs, I avoid the eye-watering proportions of David’s genitalia on aprons but can’t resist a leather lariat with Vespas dangling on the ends for Star . Now I’m on the hunt for earrings to commemorate my time here.
I stop by an amazing array of jewellery displayed on lace-lined trays. Antique hand mirrors with ornate bevelled handles sit alongside intaglio trinkets to die for. Squeezing past two backpackers, I stand my ground as a brash American tourist elbows her way into my space. The sloe-eyed stallholder nods to encourage me, her ruby lips revealing a milky-white grin when she sees how serious I am about a purchase.
Cameo earrings catch my attention and are just the thing—a crisp ivory silhouette on a background of Tuscan terracotta. With my selection made, I’m about to pay when I’m drawn to a tray in the back row. A ring with a magnificent jade green stone stands out from the rest.
‘ Quanto costa, per favore ?’
‘ Trentacinque euro, signora. ’ Thirty -five euro.
I shake my head. ‘ No . No , è costoso, grazie .’
But the bold silver setting is stunning, and I freeze like the statue opposite, staring at the stone. She gestures for me to try it on and of course, as with Cinderella’s slipper, it slides onto my finger and fits perfectly.
‘ Ma trenta, va bene .’ She grins.
The price reduction is enticing. I tilt my hand from side to side, admiring it with fingers splayed. Whorls in shades of green are luminous in the sunlight. I have to have it.
‘ Malachite . Perfetto per te .’ Perfect for you.
A quick calculation converts the currency, and I nod.
Back at the hotel, I unwrap the ring from its pouch. A note with a bold heading is enclosed, and I tap it into my phone to translate.
Malachite . The stone of transformation. A healer stone used to reveal and draw emotions to the surface. Absorbs negative energy and dispels past traumas and emotional patterns; opens pathways to help acknowledge suppressed feelings. Purifies and cleanses, brings balance and fidelity to relationships. Allows healing and aids positive transformation for the wearer.
Along with the ingredients for tonics and balms, Amelia had mentioned malachite in her diary:
As copper extracted deep in the ground, or the tin of Cornwall smelted for bronze, the earth calls me to him. I hold malachite over my heart…
She understood the healing properties of herbs and crystals, and the connection between the elements: earth and moon, sea and sun. I wonder if the ley lines—the sacred meridians connecting people to place––drew her from Cornwall to Australia ?
The tidal island of St Michael’s Mount is located near the supposedly submerged lands of Lyonesse and Amelia’s home. Had a magnetic pathway linked to her in Australia too?
With a sigh I stretch out on the bed and close my eyes. The afternoon sun streams through the window and warms my face.
I drift off to sleep and a vision of Gran comes to me, in the last hours by her bedside when her voice was raspy and thin.
‘ Knowing the truth might help you understand. My grandmother had a hard life…’
Fine creped skin creased in the corner of her eyes; the trails of feathery lines inscribed on her face mapped her life’s story. She tried to sit up. ‘ But she was kind. My mother was truly loved—made sure she never went without…’
I shook my head, but she didn’t see it. In pain and still rambling she fell back on her pillow. ‘ Don’t worry now, Gran .’ I hoped she could hear me. ‘ I love you.’
Her face softened and relaxed. The painkillers were finally working.
‘ We always knew about you…’
What did she mean? I mopped the tears welling in her eyes and covered my mouth to muffle a sob.
The words had exhausted her. She drifted into sleep and her breathing changed, the rattle and deep expulsion of her lungs a sign of the worst. Taking her hand, I edged my chair closer and stroked her sandpaper-like skin, circling a finger over clusters of age spots. Her face was hollow, skeletal, her hazel eyes hidden under hooded lids and sparse grey lashes. Don’t leave me, Gran ….
An inner voice tells me she won’t appear that way in the future. Instead , she’ll present in a youthful, healthy form, perhaps from a time before my first memories of her.
The image fades and a new scene emerges.
My heart beats fast, and I see my mother resting on a bed of rich blue velvet like Snow White . Long black lashes fan across pearlescent waxy skin. A shock jolts through my body and I reach for her hand, but it’s cold, glacial. The smell of death surrounds her.
Don’t think about it, Theodora ….
The man’s here again, riding hard with his face buried into the stallion’s mane. His hands are entangled in the reins and death threatens at their heels. I see myself in the distance; crying, screaming; rigid with fear because death is coming for me too. I’m nauseated from the taste of salt—the bitter press of cold against my chest. I’m exhausted, terrified.
‘ Help ! Come quickly!’ I call, but the shoreline drifts away and disappears—my call is blown away by the force of the wind. He can’t hear me. ‘ Hurry ! The sea, the sea! Faster !’
I can’t breathe…
Panic and fear hold me down. I’m frightened into silence, into inaction; my voice catches and stills, my throat tightens and closes. I’m choking, sinking, deeper and deeper. I have to help them. Help him. But I can’t.
I toss from side to side to shake the aching loss— I can’t bear to lose him again. Don’t go! Gripped by despair, I cry out and his face turns to me one last time. But then the sea calls to him and blocks him from sight. He disappears, lost forever under the water, along with all those I’ve loved.
The scene changes and the sound of pounding hooves comes closer. I’m safe on the shore and run towards him—my heart swells as he swings down from the saddle into my widespread arms. I’m weak with relief. Our bodies collide, and we collapse on the ground, rolling with salt on our skin and the taste of sand and grit in our teeth. His mouth covers my sob, and he holds me tight. He’s here. He’s safe. ‘ I love you.’
Heat floods my body. I’ve seen this man before. He looks like Tristan .
Later I wake, gripping the hotel bedspread beneath me with tears wet on my cheeks. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I try to stay in the spongy cloud of the dream, but the haze vanishes, and my consciousness surfaces.
The memory of what happened to my family is clear now. It was fear I sensed that morning. I can only explain it as feeling at odds with myself. While my parents packed their gear into the boat, I moaned and complained. They were to dive off the coast of Cheviot Beach , keen to return after finding a gully within the limestone tunnels on an earlier field trip.
Esther and Beatrice , at five and seven, had danced around in the dawn, excited to join them on the boat. I didn’t want to go, or for my sisters to come. I sulked and vehemently complained of feeling sick, unable to describe my irritation.
‘ Let’s go another day,’ I whined. ‘ It’s too cold— I want to read my book. We can go next weekend.’
Daddy smiled, ruffling my hair. ‘ Take it with you. You don’t need to go into the water. You can read all afternoon.’ He smelt like tea and toast with honey, a comforting combination that made me feel safe and hopeful he’d listen to my pleas. Sadly , he did not.
The hum of my sisters’ voices echoed as they amused themselves with a game of twenty questions. I was lying on my stomach under the bow of the boat, reading the third book in the Missy’s Mystery series when the weather turned. Daddy was in the water, some distance away. I looked up to see Mummy staring out across the waves, and then checking her watch with her mouth in a line.
‘ Is it your turn now?’ I asked.
She drew the binoculars from her eyes and turned towards me, the tightening of her lips the only sign of concern. Daddy hadn’t surfaced for some time. A few minutes later she looked from us and back to the spot where he had entered. ‘ I need to tell Daddy it’s time to come back to the boat. Stay with your sisters.’
‘ But what if I need you?’ I felt sick again, and my chest hurt. I didn’t want to be left alone.
‘ We’ll be back before you know it. Be a good girl, Theodora . Pop your book away for now and look after your sisters.’
She kissed my head and gathered her equipment. But I stuck out my tongue behind her back, annoyed I was left in charge. The second she entered the water I picked up my book. I was up to an exciting part; Missy had found the golden key to the Fairy Kingdom . I had to know what happened next.
We were unprepared when heavy clouds darkened the sky.
Beatrice and Esther were standing between the seats, arguing about whose turn it was to play captain. The first wave hit the side of the boat, and they squealed at the sudden movement, their voices high and shrill like the wind. I wriggled out of my hidey-hole, telling them to sit down and do up their life jackets; to hold on to the handles on the sides of the boat.
Then the sea growled and raged until a wave splashed over us; one lifted the bow and slid us down the deck. The wind grew stronger, and after another set of waves, each rougher than the last, a crash of thunder struck overhead. One furious wave rocked the boat, but we held on, screaming, crying. Within seconds the crest of another hit us hard, and the boat capsized. I lost sight of my sisters when we fell overboard—the sea sucked me deep below the surface.
Esther bobbed up a few metres away, but there was no sign of Beatrice . I kicked my legs hard and wiggled until I freed myself from the tangle of Daddy’s nets. Then I stretched and strained to reach Esther , and to fix the loosened straps of her lifejacket. I gasped for air but wave after wave hit me and I struggled to keep my head above the turbid water. The sea continued to roil, but the rip swept her further away.
‘ Swim to me!’ I screamed into the wind. But she was only a Tadpole in swimming classes. Her little head bobbed up and down until all I could see was her ponytail. She resurfaced once and called out my name, but then the water drew her down again. The last I saw was the horror in Esther’s wide-eyed stare as the sea swallowed her down.
I was a good swimmer for a nine-year-old, but I was tired and terrified, and the rip dragged me out. I recall the darkness, and everything turning black and gelid around me.
But then I felt a powerful force draw me from the depths, with hands holding me tight. I was thrust to the surface so fast that my lungs were stinging. I wanted to cry out; my body soared higher and higher through the water towards a light that glowed bright above me.
I must have lost consciousness while evening shadows set in, and the sky and sea blurred into a blanket of darkness. The next I recall was waking on the rocks with a lifebuoy around me. I had survived, cold and exhausted, but alone.
I was uncomfortable when Euphemia told me my sisters were watching over me from another realm when I felt I hadn’t done enough to save them. If only I’d paid more attention to my inner voice, perhaps my family would still be here. My heart beats fast as the reality of my failings churns in my stomach. Why didn’t I put my book down and secure Esther’s jacket, or try harder to find Beatrice ? Or light a flare as Daddy had taught me?
I wish I had listened to my gut and tried harder to make sense of it that day—to trust what I felt was wrong. But knowing alone isn’t enough. I couldn’t save my sisters. It wasn’t my fault. I’ve carried guilt that was not mine. My parents left us alone. They should have made sure we were safe. Their negligence is not my cross to bear.
I couldn’t help the ones I loved, but someone—something—had helped me, saved me that day.
Tears roll down my cheeks, and I stagger to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. I drop to the marble floor and sob into a towel.
I understand why Gran tried to protect me from the truth. She knew about me all along. I can’t deny the psychometry, the physical reactions, the visions I experience, any more. This is who I am. Innate intuitive knowledge bubbles inside me. I have to face it—and find a way to live with it. I’ve felt strange sensations when I hold a pre-owned garment or an antique, or I’m surrounded by energy and overwhelmed in a crowded room. Sometimes a picture forms in my mind or an emotion is carried into my day without the ability to escape it. Some might call it sensitivity, but ultimately, I’m just like Amelia .
Instead of being heralded for her healing, or knowledge of herblore, the gifts she possessed were treated with derision and scepticism in her lifetime. There is a chance that mine may be too.
But people should be celebrated for their differences instead of feared. It’s part of their story. Diversity is more recognised and embraced now; we are making progress in terms of acceptance. Perhaps I can help others face their fears?
And what about Tristan ? I can’t deny my feelings for him, but before I can consider any relationship, I must learn to trust my intuitive abilities, instead of hiding them away. Believe in me. When I can trust what my awareness shows me, and take ownership of who I really am, then I will be free to live my life and help others too. Trust the signs.
Take a breath, Theodora .
I want to be with Tristan , but I’m not in the headspace to enter into a relationship now. I need to settle my past to move on in my future. If we really are meant to be, as I feel we are––because there’s something strong connecting me to him in my dreams, my thoughts, my body and my heart—then we will be together. One day. I have to have faith that he loves me as I love him. But Tristan has to be sure too and ready to fully commit to me. In time. Just not now. Time tests faith. I heard that somewhere, and it rings true for me. Time is the test of commitment. And if we are truly meant to be together, we will find a way.