Christmas Eve came around much more quickly than expected and I made the train journey home, to where I grew up an hour south of Newcastle. I made my way to my parent's house, where I was greeted by both of my parents and my older sister Viola at the front door. After all the hugs, pleasantries and "Nice to see you," exchanges we went inside.
I sat down in the front room with Papa, or Royal Reginald as we used to call him on account of him being the king jokester of the family. Mama and Viola went into the kitchen. Papa and I started to have a good catch up as he happened to be much more interested in talking in person than on a mobile, he was very old school like that. Viola and Mama came back through from the kitchen minutes later with drinks, gari biscuits, and chocolates for us all to share.
We talked late into the night and eventually all retired to our beds. Mama and Papa had kept our rooms for us, even thought we had both moved out several years ago. That night I had a very welcomed good night sleep.
Christmas morning came and we all chipped in to help to make the Christmas dinner. Once everything was ready and the table was set, we enjoyed a great meal and pulled the obligatory Christmas crackers so we could wear the wafer-thin paper hats as we ate; a once seemingly bizarre hat tradition that my parents had come to love. Afterwards we all shared the equally poor Christmas jokes that accompanied our Christmas hats and small plastic gifts from inside the crackers. As usual Papa had some of his own jokes up his sleeve to share.
There was a real feeling of enjoyment across the day, and it was evident that mama loved to have us all together on occasion like this, offering her some nostalgia.
We played games into the early evening and Viola was on a winning streak. As usual mama would explain that she was always terrible at western games and knew she would lose. We started a new game and papa said he would do the scoring.
"Can someone please pass me a pen and paper?" he asked. I grabbed my backpack from the utility room and brought it into the front room where we were all sat. I rummage inside my bag, and I pulled out a pen and some paper "Here you go," I said as I passed them over to him.
"This bit has something written on it," he said, holding up one of the sheets. It was my notes from the meeting with Dr Paley.
"Ah right, thanks papa, I need that," I replied and grabbed the paper and placed it on the side table next to one of the living room chairs. We always played a range of games at Christmas, including board games, charades, and quizzes.
It was getting rather late, and we decided to put on the ten o'clock news. One story near the end of the news bulletin grabbed my attention. It was information on a fascinating planet that had been discovered by humans, an exoplanet called Proxima B, the first exoplanet we had evidence of. The screen was filled with an image accompanied by quotes from 'leading scientists'. In that moment I was reminded of the wall filled with images and pins at Dr Immanuel's home in London. I decided to pick up part of the notes that my papa had handed me back earlier on that evening and look over them again. I grabbed the rest of the notes from my backpack and scanned them carefully. I tried to remember anything I could from the overlapping documents sprayed all over Paley's wall.
After some time, I grabbed a pen and a fresh piece of paper. I wrote down what I thought were key words and phrase from Paley's words of wisdom onto the blank sheet. I added many terms including, Lalande's star, planets, Max Briop, red dwarf planets, solar systems. As I looked over the terms I had scrawled down, I started to see if I thought any of them could be related in any way. Perhaps there was something that I had previously missed. After about 30 minutes of playing around with words and possible connections I wrote Proxima B and Max Briop alongside each other and came to a realisation. That the letters in Proxima B were the same as those in Max Briop, the name that Paley used for himself at points throughout mine and Dr Mayola's meeting with him. It seemed as if he was trying to give us a cryptic message of sorts. Or was I simply going mad looking for answers where there were none?
Why would he be so secretive and mysterious? Was this all a game to him. Or was this the clever ramblings of a genius? It was hard to tell after only meetings him for a few short hours. Perhaps he was trying to hide information from the people Dr Guilder said were his powerful enemies?
I picked my phone out of my bag, pulled up the ariel and started tapping away at the nine keys to message Dr Guilder. I did not want to ring her on Christmas Day as I didn't know who she was with apart from her husband, and I was working on the assumption most people do not want to be disturbed when they are spending quality time with loved ones. I messaged her about Proxima B and asked if she had watched the ten o'clock news. I explained to her that it seemed that 'Proxima B' may hold some significance when it was related to 'Max Briop'.
Dr Guilder replied to my text the next day. We exchanged several texts over the coming days. On my return to Newcastle, I was eager to meet with Dr Guilder but was conscious that the start of a new term could be very busy, so I had not pushed to organise anything during the holidays for my return. I resumed by research post at the campus as usual and went to see Dr Guilder in her office. But when I got there, she wasn't anywhere to be found. I asked Dr Casey whose office was next door to Dr Guilders if he had seen her.
"She is not in today," he replied.
"Ok thanks," I said, asking, "Do you know when she will be in?"
"I don't know," Dr Casey said then returned his gaze to his computer screen. He was evidentially busy, so I left the conversation at that. I sent Dr Guilder a text to say I had dropped by. A few days later Dr Guilder rang me.
"A.J. it's Mayola," she started, "Sorry I didn't reply to your text. I am not very well. I have cancer. So, I don't know when I will be returning to work." I felt a wave of sadness wash over me and there was a pause whilst I tried to form words for a reply.
"I am so sorry to hear that," I replied, not know what else to say.
"I need you to go and see Immanuel again," Dr Guilder said, "But on your own this time. And I know what you are going to say, he cannot have visits from those who are not close family now. Nevertheless, you must talk to him."
Knowing that Dr Guilder was ill, I didn't bombard her with questions, and I thought to myself, 'I will just have to figure it out as I go'.
I organised to go to London the following weekend. The weekend came quickly, and I had to be up early to catch my train. I went through the motions of the bleary-eyed cancelling of my phone alarm and pulled back the bed covers for the cold January air to come flooding in. I welcomed the hot water from my morning shower, and I had a quick breakfast before pulling on my winter clothes and wrapping myself in my thick coat to battle the elements. When I was ready, I grabbed my backpack and headed out of the front door, locking it behind me.
A few of the footpaths to the station were dangerously slippery with ice. I was careful where I was treading and made it to the train station just in time for my train. I took the opportunity on the train journey to read a book Viola had gifted me for Christmas, a fiction entitled 1984, written by George Orwell, which was rather good.
When I made it to London, I took a taxi to the institute where Immanuel currently lived. The taxi made its way through the streets of London at a snail's pace and finally reached a road with huge houses and gardens. We eventually came to the right address and the taxi driver drove up the driveway towards a small water feature that acted as the middle of a roundabout for the sizable driveway. I thanked the driver, paid him the five pounds I owed for the ride, and then made my way up the front steps of the grand building. The structure looked as wide as it was long with eight beautiful large windows on its face. Like Dr Paley's home there also appeared to be high ceilings in this well-designed residence.
I rang the doorbell, and I heard the loud chime coming from inside. A friendly and dumpy looking middle-aged woman answered the door wearing a bright blue uniform and a name badge that read 'Gladys'. "Hello," I said offering a smile, wanting to make a good first impression.
"Hi, can I help you?" she replied.
"Yes, I am here to see my grandfather Immanuel Paley," I explained. I was hoping that I was on the list of family members that Dr Immanuel had, as Dr Guilder said she rang ahead and spoke with Immanuel so that he would add me to the list. I was praying this was not going to be a wasted trip.
"Please come in," Gladys replied.
Gladys tootled over to the front desk in the very large greeting space which was framed by an ever-grander staircase which wrapped around the left and right side of the room to meet in the middle, creating a balcony like veranda over the reception area. There were sweet smelling fresh flowers on a small round table in the middle of the room. It seemed to be a very welcoming and looked after place, which I was pleased about for Dr Paley's sake. Gladys opened a large emerald, green book in front of her laid on the desk. She found Paley's name and ran her finger along the rows until she found the names listed "Mrs Paley, Dr Mayola Guilder and A.J. Williams".
"Yes, that is me A.J.," I responded. "Can I see a form of I.D. please," she said looking up at me. I showed Gladys my driving license and once she had looked from me to the picture and back a few times she handed me it back. I threw it back into my bag.
Gladys escorted me to a room that was peppered with comfortable looking armchairs. Some set up in pairs, others in fours, with some accompanied by small side tables and others with a larger sized tables for residents to play board games on and complete jigsaws from what I could see. There was a huge fireplace on the far wall of the room with an even larger mirror above it. On two sides the room was stamped with large oval windows offering a clear view of the surrounding garden and greenery. Gladys directed me towards a window seat tilted to face outwards, opposite another comfortable looking armchair. There was a small table next to me with a newspaper neatly folded. "Please wait here," Gladys said, and she scurried off into another room. I looked at the front cover of the newspaper, with the frontpage adorned with the heading 'Europe breaks down trade barriers.' I started to read the initial few paragraphs whilst I waited for Dr Immanuel.
A few minutes later Paley sauntered into the room in an eye catching deep purple robe with silver edging tied tightly around his thin frame. He also wore purple pyjamas and black velvet slippers. He made his way over to me opening his arms as he moved.
"Ah my dear grandchild, there you are," he said as he came over and gave me a hug. I hugged him back rather hesitantly, but I was still conscious that I had to keep up the performance.
"Hi, so nice to see you Oupa I replied," less enthusiastically and altogether less convincingly than Paley. Saying the word Oupa to Paley seemed uncomfortable, he was nothing like my grandpa. I hoped he would soon push the pleasantries out of the way to talk about why I was there. As Paley sat down the light caught his face revealing that his usually filled cheeks seemed a bit gaunt. His hair was a little dishevelled, with what remained of, I assumed, an attempt to slick his hair back that morning. Another one of the nurses, who had been attending to another resident nearby had been watching us from across the room, she gave a slight smile and then left seemingly finishing her duties in the sitting area and not suspicious of our family status.
Dr Immanuel saw her leave and then began talking again, "I do love a little bit of improvised role play. Don't you? I have always been a fan of acting and the theatre." I held his gaze and admitted that I was not a huge fan of acting myself but did appreciate the art form. He then proceeded to talk about the ideas of trickery and illusion and the way in which the human senses can be tricked. He provided a long speal about 'The brilliant mind of Rene Descartes', as he put it.
"I am glad you are here; I must admit I have had a lack of visitors," Paley confessed. I was initially surprised at this admission. However, it became evident that Paley was not lying about this as the visit went on, as our conversation was very different to that at his home address. This dialogue between us, at the mental institute, saw Immanuel being much more actively engaged with me in an exchange, when we were talking matters through, rather than speaking at me. This differing experience with Immanuel saw him showing me he was much more appreciative of my company, relishing in any engagement with another that he could garner. He even went so far as to ask me a few questions about myself and what I had been up to since we last met.
After a while he continued his confessional, as after all, that is what I was there for. "Actually, you are the first visitor I have had". He looked at me more closely as he spoke, and I saw his gaze went down to my neck, "I see you are wearing the necklace I gave you," he continued. I felt wearing the necklace was compulsory as I wanted to make sure that my visit was worthwhile and meaningful, and if that meant wearing something to please Dr Immanuel in that moment, I was willing to do so. Heck I was used to being hyper-aware of people's actions, particularly white men by that age.
"It looks just right on you," Dr Immanuel said leaning over to have a closer look at the pendant hanging from the chain around my neck then returning to his upright position in his chair.
He continued, "Mayola has been speaking with me over the phone. I do enjoy our short chats. Short being the operative word. These nonsense nurses do not understand the importance of the things Mayola and I have been discussing, they make me hang up the phone at times. It is so rude of them," He winked at me and then said, "Mayola told me that you worked out that my alias Max Briop was in fact an acronym for Proxima B. It seems you are a little quicker off the mark with your detective skills than I surmised from our initial meeting. How delightful. I must say, the person I was talking about in my home when we last met, the one you remind me of, well they were a bright spark too. I seem to have a way of attracting those who have insight to me. Call it a gift! Or maybe that is the work of another dear friend, one who was taken from me just as quickly as he was introduced."
A little smile broke out on my face at Dr Paley's mention of him feeling I did not seem to be the sharpest when we first met and gave a little shake of my head, I somehow knew that Immanuel didn't mean what he said in a vindictive way. He was not trying to say he thought I was lacking in intelligence, but perhaps that my actions did not appear to marry up with his initial thoughts when we first met. I was used to being underestimated.
Dr Immanuel and I spoke for a good hour, however, between asking me about myself and speaking out Dr Guilder, he seemed to have such scattered and sporadic thought that came flooding out of him that I was struggling to follow his line of inquiry. I frantically tried to make meaningful notes on the notepad I had brought with me, hoping that what I had written would make more sense to Dr Guilder. I was attempting to keep up with Dr Immanuel's spurting water fountains of thought racing to the end of each written sentence, smudging ink as I went. Then, after one long rambling, there was a long pause. I was thankful of the pause for my hand to catch up with his words. As I finished the final sentence I looked up from the page and over at Paley. He seemed to be gazing into the distance with a slight saddened look across his face.
He began to speak, but did not turn to me, he remained staring into the distance as he spoke "Yes, yes, I am quite fine dear Ava. Now I need you to stay here for me whilst I go and get something. I have something I want to give you my little star."
He stood up quickly and glided out of the room without looking at me. He went out of the room the way he had come in, down a corridor that I could only guess led to his bedroom. I took the opportunity to flick back through my notes as I waited for him to return. I was hoping that whatever it was he was about to return with could help Dr Guilder in some way, as she was very invested in Dr Paley's works.
Immanuel Paley returned a few minutes later and slowly made his way over to where I was sat. He stopped about two feet away from me and took a small bow. He then extended his arm towards me and in his hand, he held an envelope. "For you my dear Ava," he said as he offered me the envelope. I put my pen and notepad down on the small side table and took the envelop from him.
"Thank you," I replied, trying to show my appreciation for his time, even though I could not quite piece together everything he spoke about there and then. I read the front of the envelope which read 'To my dear Lalande Star, open in a time of need.'. It seemed to be yet another cryptic piece of information, but I wanted to respect Paley's wishes and I placed the envelope in my pocket and did not open it.
As I packed away my note pad and pen Paley added, "Make sure you abide by those instructions my dear Ava, only in a time of need can you open it. You will know when that time of need is, all will become clear in time." He smiled and nodded, "I bid you farewell; I must retire to my bedroom now. I am rather tired." Paley's eyes did indeed look tired, it seemed our conversation took a lot out of him.
"Thank you for meeting me and thank you for your time," I replied and offered a half wave as he turned away to leave the room.
"Goodbye," he shouted in a rather theatrical but slightly weary manner as he disappeared through the doorway to the hall beyond.
I made my way back to the reception area and signed out as requested. I then started the journey back to Newcastle from London. Thankfully the journey was completed with no serious delays or issues. On my return to Newcastle station, I was eager to speak to Dr Guilder when I could, but I remained conscious of the fact, she was deeply unwell.
When I returned to my flat, I absentmindedly flicked the kettle on and took a comfy seat on the sofa as I switched the TV on. The news channel was still selected from the last time I had caught the headlines. I didn't pay much attention to what was being reported and ended up dozing off on the sofa. I woke up some time later a little disorientated before quickly remembering the events of my day. I decided to text Dr Guilder whilst making some dinner and then I heading to bed. I slept well, but had very strange dreams, those dreams that seem very vivid and real at the time but do not appear to make sense, with people, places and objects being introduced that would not usually go together. The type of dreams where you remember fragments, but the details quickly escape your grasp once you wake the next morning.
The following day I woke at a reasonable time and decided to have an amble to the local shops, opting for a more relaxing day than the previous one. On returning home from the shops, I took my time to read over the notes I had made the day before, whilst the encounter with Dr Immanuel was fresh in my mind. I carefully studied the envelope Paley had given me and the words so beautifully written on it. I resisted the urge to open the envelope and sat it down to my left-hand side as I convened at the dining room table. I returned my gaze to look at the notes I had made whilst speaking with Dr Immanuel and read over the section on Rene Descartes and ideas on true reality. I had several philosophy books in my living room bookshelf about those who were seen as key philosophers of the ages, one being Descartes. I made my way over to the bookshelf and had a look over the content's pages of each book that I thought may be relevant. I found one that looked promising and returned to my seat, book in hand. After reading for a while, I seemed to gain a little more insight into Descartes thinking. He said the only thing we can be sure of is our ability to think, to be aware of our conscious minds. He seemed to believe that humans could be tricked, and therefore we could not fully trust our senses. Which to some extent I agreed. Like the times when you are scared, perhaps in a dark room or an unfamiliar place and you think you have seen something out of the corner of your eye, but it is probably just a figment of your imagination. Was Paley trying to tell me that he felt people were being tricked in some way? That what we were experiencing was not reality?
When I felt I had exhausted my thinking on what Dr Paley had stated about Rene Descartes I turned to my very messy pages of notes I made on horoscopes and stars. As I looked over my scrawling's I kept looking back and forth over the notes and then back over Dr Paley's handwritten sentence on the front of the envelope he handed me. At that point I decided to press the 'on' button on my laptop and the screen lit up, with a welcoming ping, the pinging sound that my laptop made each time it came to life. I pulled my ThinkPad300 towards me. I decided instead of opening the envelope, as that would be against Dr Paley's strict instructions, I would use the trusty internet search engine to research "Lalande's star" that Dr Paley had referenced on the envelope. I was not sure whether Ava was a star or whether Paley was playing tricks one me, but it was worth a try to explore all avenues.
I opened a new Internet Browser window on my laptop and used the search engine Archie to search "Lalande's star". I was still getting used to using the internet, and having my own electronic device, I was lucky to have one. I pressed enter and was met with thousands of internet references in the search results. The third link in the results was a scanned copy of a journal article entitled 'The mysteries of Lalande's star by Dr Henry Derwent'. I clicked on the article and downloaded the PDF. Dr Derwent wrote about Lalande's star as a red-looking star which became lighter and dimmer at different times of the year, giving off different infrared signals. I read the article, but by no means was I an avid star gazer or an astronomer. Once I read the article, I went back to the search engine and searched 'Dr Henry Derwent'. There was an online news piece available from an astronomy monthly magazine which spoke of Dr Derwent and Lalande's star, detailing the career and key works of Dr Derwent spanning some thirty plus years, with Dr Derwent now being in his fifties. The online magazine piece was accompanied by a picture of the nights sky and what must have been Lalande's star. The picture reminded me of those that littered Immanuel's bedroom wall in his London home. I felt that I was not exactly sure how this tied into Dr Paley's ramblings, but I felt that perhaps I was gaining another piece to the sparce jigsaw puzzle that laid before me. One thing was clear, I most definitely needed to collect many more jigsaw pieces before the picture started to become clear. I emailed the article to Dr Guilder, unsure whether she would feel well enough to read it. Nonetheless I wanted to keep her in the loop with my thinking and any small discoveries I made along the way.
Were we finally going to have a breakthrough? Were we getting somewhere slowly but surely?