Free Blue Moon (Book One in The Blue Crystal Trilogy) by Pat Spence

of night. Since when did we get eagles
in this part of the world?” And he laughed again.
    “You’re probably right,” said
Bob, feeling stupid and unsure of what he’d just seen. It was dark
outside, the moon still hidden behind clouds and it would be some
time before its silver light lit up the sky. He drew the curtains
as quickly as he could. “Come on, let’s get this sorted out.”
    Together, they went back down
the stairs, leaving the skeletal figure on the bed. Finding the
sobbing man in the hallway, they followed him into the lounge.
    “Sorry, sir,” said Bob. “You
were right. There’s nothing we can do for the old dear. She’s
passed on. We’ll call for a doctor and see if he’ll issue a Death
Certificate, if not we may have to go to the Coroner. But don’t
worry, she’ll be handled with respect and dignity. Now, I think we
must have got the wrong information. I take it she’s your mother…
or grandmother, even?”
    “No,” burst out the man. “She’s
not my mother or grandmother, although I know she looks like it.”
For a moment, he was overcome with grief and couldn’t speak. Then
he forced out the words that chilled the paramedics to the
bone.
    “She was my wife. Her youthful
looks were everything to her. She prided herself on keeping young.
It was her obsession. She was only 42, and until two weeks ago, she
could easily pass for early twenties. Then it all started to go
wrong.”
    The two paramedics exchanged
worried glances. Either the man was clearly delusional or they’d
just witnessed something that defied explanation.
    “What do you mean?” asked
Bob.
    “A month ago, she looked
amazing,” explained the man, in a choked voice. “Her skin gleamed,
her hair shone, her eyes were bright. She seemed to be reversing
the ageing process. Whatever she was taking, it was working a
miracle. And her energy levels… well, she was unstoppable. Walking,
dancing, singing, she could go on forever. Sometimes she put in a
twelve-hour day at the estate agency where she worked, then came
home, cooked a three-course meal and went out dancing all night.
She was phenomenal.” He paused. “Then the nightmares started.”
    Both paramedics leaned forward,
simultaneously horrified and fascinated.
    “Yes,” prompted Bob.
    She had a recurring nightmare
about ageing,” continued the man, “and the more she had the dream,
the more it came true. Age spots on her hands, wrinkles across her
face, skin drying out. Over the last couple of weeks, I watched her
age. I saw her hair turn white and start to fall out, her body
begin to stoop, her face sink in. And then tonight it all happened
so quickly. One minute she was drinking tea with me, the next she
was on the bed gasping for breath.” He looked at the two paramedics
in complete desolation.
    “She turned into a living
skeleton before my eyes. And now she’s dead. How is that
possible?”
    The paramedics glanced at one
another, not knowing what to say. This was beyond their
experience.
    Outside, with a near silent
flurry of feathers, a large bird rose into the air, its
outstretched wings momentarily bathed in the sodium glare of the
streetlights, before it disappeared into the night sky.

7. Family Conference
     
    The next day was beautiful. At
Hartswell Hall, sunlight streamed in through the windows, pouring
into every room and illuminating each shadowy corner as if making
up for lost time and all the years it had been unable to penetrate
the grimy, dirty panes of glass. The house itself seemed to breathe
with new life, its walls vibrant, the furniture spotless and
furnishings pristine. The chandeliers glistened and sparkled in the
early morning sun and everywhere a fresh energy filled the air.
    Outside, the grounds teamed
with new growth. Late spring bulbs that had been dormant for too
long burst into life, daffodils and crocuses flowering alongside
bluebells, primroses and polyanthus to create a riot of colour, set
against a lush green backdrop. Buds