Grains of Truth by Lydia Crichton Read Free Book Online Page A

what would have otherwise been a deafening silence.
    Before her last trip to Egypt, she’d sold her home, her car and put all her belongings in storage. The plan had been to remain there indefinitely. When things hadn’t gone exactly according to plan, she’d returned to San Francisco, taking what was meant to have been a temporary apartment until she could decide what to do with the rest of her life.
    Right away she began to feel seriously unwell. The first diagnosis had been depression. They always wanted you to be depressed. Overnight it changed to profound anemia and she was rushed to the emergency room for a massive blood transfusion. It seemed she had very few red blood cells.
    “I’ve recently been traveling in Egypt,” she explained. “Could this be related in some way? Some kind of parasites, perhaps?” 
    “Oh, no, it’s not parasites,” a parade of self-assured medical professionals insisted. Six months later, after every test imaginable (and some unimaginable), she continued to suffer the debilitating effects of whatever unknown malady was causing the exhausting, brain-draining anemia. The doctors remained baffled.
    “Parasites?” she asked for the umpteenth time.
    “No,” the hematologist said in his patronizing way. “It is not parasites.”
    One day, in a chance encounter, a stranger encouraged her to consult an alternative medicine professional—a naturopathic doctor. Well, she thought, what have I got to lose? She felt as though she’d aged twenty years. The future at that point looked pretty bleak, with having to make weekly hospital visits for the rest of her life only to cling to a dreary existence of fatigue and despair. 
    “Parasites,” pronounced the herbalist after a simple and splendidly non-invasive saliva diagnostic. “You have numerous, nasty little parasites.”
    From the day the herbal cleansing commenced, Julia began to improve. Four months later her blood count was almost normal. It would take some time to repair the damage done, but she felt better every day. The next time she traveled to a developing country she would be a damn sight more careful. 
    The diminished delivery of oxygen to her brain had made it impossible for her to think clearly or to make any major decisions. Apart from her new-found friend Passion and helping her with the peace rallies, she’d done little about getting her life back on track. Now here she sat, almost a year later, in her “temporary” room, contemplating a course of action that would never, in her wildest dreams, have occurred to her. It was only for a week, she told herself, not a career move. What’s wrong with that?
    A strange phenomenon had also occurred during her illness. Her mind, now free from a lifetime of left-brain domination, frequently took off on elaborate and lengthy flights of fancy. Returning from these trips usually left her confused as to what she’d been doing before take-off.
    Looking down in mild surprise at the untouched food in her lap, she set it aside and went to open the closet door. The decision was not firm in her mind, but at least the act of packing was something to do. Julia had always been a woman of action. Physical motion now provided a degree of comfort, along with some relief for her conflicted emotions.
    Sleep came at long last, and when Julia awoke in the early dawn it was with a clear resolve to undertake this next journey. It must be, she concluded, one of life’s never-ending tests.
     
    Chapter 8
    Alexander Bryant stepped from the black London cab in front of the Connaught Hotel and walked briskly to the entrance. The doorman, splendid in a silky black top hat and immaculate white gloves, greeted him by name as he ceremoniously opened the door. Alexander in turn thanked him by name and strode purposefully through the lobby, which had more the air of an ambassadorial residence than an exclusive hotel.
    He paused at the entrance of the main dining room to scan its occupants for his luncheon