The Prophecy and the Templar Scroll

Chapter 4 - 2013

Chapter 4 - 2013

Hunched over a steaming mug of coffee, Michael watched the financial analysts on TV. He pecked on his laptop, browsing from site to site for breaking news. The minister of finance had just returned empty-handed from a crusade to secure a loan. The country’s immediate future seemed bleak. Rebuilding the shattered economy would take years, if not decades.

In the meantime, the little experiment carried out on Cyprus had been met with skepticism, and a new directive that guaranteed deposits of up to one hundred thousand euros was now underway. That was not much, but it was better than nothing. Michael had always adapted well to change and found himself ruminating on how to use best whatever money he would be left with when the banks opened again; he had a flair for business.

The breaking news at the bottom of the screen caught his eye: ‘Cyprus Popular Bank Closing?’ He gasped and held his breath. That was his bank! How was it possible that the second-largest bank could fail? How could anyone have the right to steal the money he had worked a lifetime to earn? Michael was furious with whoever was responsible for this mess, Cypriot or foreigner. If only he had not trusted his cousin, a branch manager at the bank. He had reassured him that the high interest rates on deposits were a means to attract more capital for the bank’s overseas investments.

Michael passed a hand over his shaved head. Life as he had known it would no longer be the same. The realization bored down on him with a devastating impact.

He turned the TV down and picked up his ringing cell phone. It was Adriana. He took a deep breath to calm himself and did his best to smile when he spoke to her. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning, Michael.” Her voice, though guarded, came as a pleasant break from all this distressing news.

“How was the fashion show in Paphos yesterday?” Normally, he would have gone with her, but she had insisted that he should best stay home and think of a way out of this mess. Michael was not sure that there was much he could do at the moment but did as she had said.

“Michael, there’s something I have to tell you.”

He took a sip of his coffee and put his mug down on the table. “I’m listening.”

“I can’t do this.”

He did not like the sound of that. “You can’t do what exactly?”

“I can’t marry you.”

“What?”

“You deserve someone better than me.” She had picked up the line from a movie.

A pause.

“Oh, hilarious! You had me going there for a moment. Is this a joke? It’s not April Fool’s Day yet, is it?”

“I’m serious, Michael. I’m leaving. I have this new contract from a modeling agency in the Emirates. I’m sitting on the plane as we speak. It wouldn’t have worked between us. I’m sorry.”

“On the plane? Now? Really?” He breathed in slowly. Now he knew why she had not wanted him with her in Paphos. “How long have you been planning this? When were you going to tell me?” Michael snapped, his patience wearing thin.

“I’m telling you now.”

“Over the phone! You couldn’t even tell me in person?” His brows bumped together in a scowl.

“You’d make me change my mind. I know it’s hard to believe right now, but I love you, Michael, with all my heart.”

“You have a funny way of showing it!” he said, narrowing his lips.

“I’m sorry!” Her voice broke.

Michael tried hard to understand. Why was she doing this? Had he done or said something? He racked his brain but nothing came. Everything had been fine until a few days ago. And then it dawned on him. “If you ever loved me, answer just one question for me truthfully!”

“Michael, we’re taking off. I must go.”

“Just one question. I deserve that much.”

“All right,” she said reluctantly.

“Are you leaving because I’m broke?” There was a pregnant pause, and Michael became conscious of holding his breath.

“I can’t be poor again. I’m sorry, Michael. I must go now. Goodbye.” She ended the call and turned off her cell phone.

Michael tried to call her back, but his call went straight to voice mail. He tossed his cell onto the table, his nostrils flaring. He darted to his feet, thoroughly blindsided, almost too angry to think. He paced up and down, shaking his head in disbelief then threw himself down on the chair again, unable to shake the feeling of being dragged deeper and deeper into a Kafkaesque nightmare.

He wiped his face in a downward motion, looked up, and cast a perfunctory glance at the pendulum. Pappou, his grandfather, would be home soon from his morning swim, and Michael did not want him to see him like this. A cold shower would help, he thought, and rose to his feet.

*

“Oh, and don’t forget the deadline for your assignment on the Third Crusade next week,” Professor Sinclair said, finishing his lecture on Richard the Lionheart.

The students drifted out of the auditorium, and Sinclair gathered his things when two female students approached him. “Professor Sinclair, we were wondering if you might have a moment to explain the importance of capturing Cyprus for the Third Crusade. I mean –” one of the girls began to say.

Sinclair flashed a smile at them that made them sigh inwardly. “I’m sorry, ladies. I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you today. I have an appointment, and I can’t be late. Why don’t you come and see me during office hours?”

“Of course,” the girls said and walked away, head down.

Sinclair had a gift for enchanting students, female ones in particular. Someone would always want to talk to him for a few minutes, but today he did not have the time for that. He left the auditorium in long, brisk strides and went past the main library and the Bloomsbury Theatre. He crossed Gordon Street and entered Christopher Ingold, the building that houses the Department of Chemistry. He took the elevator to the second floor and knocked on Professor Keller’s door. Charlie Keller was the head of the department, a colleague and friend, but most of all, a fellow member of the Order.

“Hello, William,” Keller greeted him with a smile. “What brings you here?”

“This,” Sinclair said, handing over the cylinder containing the parchment with the Templar seal. “You might want to wear gloves,” he pointed out meaningfully.

Intrigued, Keller grabbed a pair of gloves from a glove container and removed the parchment from the cylinder. His brows furrowed at the sight of the seal. He raised his eyes and looked at Sinclair. “Where did you get this?”

“Lucy found it in one of the stalls in Covent Garden.”

“Ah! Lucy! Such a nice girl,” Keller said. “And smart,” he added, pointing at the parchment. He chuckled. Keller had been surprised at first that Lucy had outlasted the female competition on campus that long. But maybe she was a good match for Sinclair after all.

“Yes, that’s Lucy,” Sinclair nodded in agreement. “It’s probably just another counterfeit, but could you run a check anyway?”

“I’d love to! I’ll get back to you as soon as I have the results.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I owe you one,” Sinclair said and walked to the door.

*

The house was as still as a cemetery when Michael carried the empty boxes to the bedroom upstairs. In a way, it suited his mood. It was like the funeral for a relationship based on deception. He had been betrayed. Now, it felt like he was digging a grave without a tombstone, wishing for the grass to grow over it and cover it quickly so that it would be out of sight and out of mind forever.

Overcome with emotion, he let the boxes fall on the wood flooring. Everything in that room reminded him of her. He snorted bitterly. She never thought much of wearing clothes and would move around the room in the nude, swaying those lean hips teasingly in front of him, and he would always indulge in that pleasure. They had great s*x together; he missed that already. And they enjoyed going out for the evening. Adriana turned heads wherever they went, and Michael could see men’s lustful gazes but never felt jealous. He had always believed that beauty is to be admired.

He stared at the boxes with a sense of finality. She was not coming back. Did he want her back? In retrospect, Michael was not sure he had ever really loved her. He knew what love was. He had found true love once – many years ago.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He needed closure, yet gathering Adriana’s personal belongings for charity filled him with anger and bitterness. The world around him was falling apart with lightning speed, but Michael was certain of one thing: he had done nothing to deserve this; any of this.