The Message in a Bottle

“Fate”, says Lottie laconically at the end of my narrative.
I disagree with her analysis.

“Life is full of imponderables” I interject, “no one can predict a particular event's outcome. Sometimes our destiny is determined by what action we take. For instance, would Francesca still be alive if she had decided not to go to Iraq at that inopportune time?

Could my brother have been found if the authorities had not ignored a vital clue that came to light after his disappearance?
Too often we are wise after the event.”

There is a look of surprise on my friend's face.

“I thought that you said Justin could not be traced.”

“That's correct, he had vanished but a message in a bottle surfaced in the Somali Sea soon after. It was thought to be a hoax, a schoolboy's prank, and therefore dismissed.”

“What did the note say?”

“It just had the word help and two co-ordinates: 2.0469° N, 45.3182° E which revealed Mogadishu as the locality. When eventually a decision to investigate was made the trail had gone cold.”

“I feel for you for the tribulations you suffered, Jeremy”, she says and squeezes my hand sympathetically.

◊ ◊ ◊

Her hand was still resting on mine when Jessica entered the room. She looked at me with a knowing smile. I knew immediately what she was thinking.

She surmised that intimacy had taken place between the two 'oldies'; erroneously, as she eventually discovered.

Since our arrival she had tried to be a matchmaker and had more than once hinted that I'd be a fool if I missed the opportunity of proposing to this young widow.

I have to admit that I was fond of this attractive woman whose reddish-golden hair had enchanted me on our first encounter but hesitated over making a decision on the matter.

It's hard to say whether I was worried about a twenty years age gap - I was sixty-three while she was only forty-three - or because we were two different personalities.

I was not worried about the fact that she had accumulated a fortune by selling most of the properties her husband had left her because I too was rich beyond measure having acquired my brother's estate when he was declared dead in absentia after seven years of his disappearance.

Yet the situation had to be resolved soon as I did not see Lottie, from what she had told me, as a Penelope waiting for Odysseus delaying the courtship of her suitors – of whom there were quite a few.

Firstly though I had to know if Jessica was ready for a step-mother and ask what her intentions were, then would broach the subject of matrimony with the prospective spouse.

◊ ◊ ◊

Lottie had gone to a business meeting and I managed to find my niece alone.

“I need to talk to you”, I started to say.

“And so do I, dear uncle: I have found my mother's diary.'

© Luigi Pagano 2020

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