Nick liked Alice, but she had an irritating habit of stringing the most grating phrases together. He once heard her start a sentence with ‘To be honest, I’m not going to lie, but at the end of the day, the fact of the matter is …’
Urgghhh, painful!
He hadn’t bumped into her for a while now, and wasn’t too bothered by that.
Inside Creaky Crystals there were two tills behind glass counters at opposite ends of the store, in order to get through more sales at once. The stock included crystals, crystal balls, hand-carved ornaments, photo frames, coloured candles, tarot cards, dream-catchers, wands, athames, cauldrons, incense, oils, jewellery, meditation CDs, cloaks, calendars, gifts, and similar items. Though, at this time of year the items were more Halloween oriented.
Nick assumed that Mora regretted setting up in the lower grounds; her income would most likely have doubled in the upper. Nonetheless, she loved her store, and Nick could see that.
Towards the end of his shift, Janet tramped over to him. ‘Have you got a girlfriend yet?’ she said, her eyes so wide.
‘No, Janet. No luck there,’ Nick answered apathetically.
‘I can set you up with someone, you know?’
‘I’m not looking to date anyone at the moment.’
Janet seemed to have acquired an interest in his love life over the past few months. She was in her thirties and had three kids, was of average height, her hair was leathery brown like her eyes, and she had large teeth and gums that couldn’t be ignored when she laughed or smiled. Being closes friends with Mora, she was in the same coven as her.
When Nick had first become interested in Wicca, Mora invited him to one of her coven meetings to see about initiating him. In that particular meeting they worshipped ‘the Goddess’ or ‘the Mother’, invited her into their circle, and asked for some kind of protection over their family and friends.
Nick hadn’t known what to expect before attending, but it turned out that he felt extremely uncomfortable. Their Ritual Leader, as the group referred to her, asked Nick if he was on a spiritual journey, if he wanted to devote himself to the study of Wicca, and be initiated into their circle. She told him that they initiated people sky clad (in other words, butt naked). He decided against joining. Being seen naked by his manager and a co-worker wasn’t quite his cup of tea. The Ritual Leader said it was to show to the Goddess that he wasn’t afraid to be in front of her the way he came into the world, and something about being ‘reborn’ the way he was first born.
He wasn’t ashamed of his naked body, but didn’t want to prove it by stripping off in front of people either. There was probably more to it than that, and he didn’t like to judge too hastily, but still …
No
.
‘You know … a man your age should really have a woman by now!’ Janet commented.
‘I’m only twenty-four.’
‘Exactly. You should be in a long-term relationship, working up to marriage and then having children; else you will be an old daddy.’
He chuckled. ‘I’m
only
twenty-four, and who said I want to have children? I can’t even afford to look after myself.’
‘Well what’s the point of having a girlfriend if you don’t want family?’
‘I never said I wanted a girlfriend. You’re the one pestering me about it!’ his voice raised, but as far as he could tell, she was only winding him up. He hoped.
‘Hmmm … I still don’t think it’s right. You should be
at least
looking out for that special someone,’ she said decisively, then gave a cheeky smile and sauntered off.
Nick thought of the woman he’d saved. He didn’t even know her, never got her name, but she was beautiful. Her face was imprinted in his mind and warmth swam throughout his body in thought of her.
Before the shift was over, he mulled over asking Michael if he’d noticed anything out of the ordinary with Tom recently, but his conscience stopped him. Tom had made clear that it was personal. It would be inconsiderate to arouse suspicion when he obviously didn’t want to share whatever it was with everybody.
I’ll just have to wait and find out.
Nick put more effort into his dinner that evening than the usual sling-it-in-the-oven or microwave meal. He had a chicken and mushroom pasta bake with Parmesan cheese. The effort paid off and he dwelled on why he didn’t prepare his own food more often (and came to the conclusion that he couldn’t afford to buy ingredients all the time,
that’s why!
).
Thursday was approaching, when Nick was due to see Caroline. Being in such a light mood, he considered not going. He even pondered cancelling the therapy sessions altogether, but decided that would be rash. Only, he felt
so
much happier since having a premonition. In his heart he knew it meant something … but wasn’t sure what yet.
He attempted to meditate again, knowing he was a tad desperate to have another vision. He tried to recall how it happened the first time: sitting in Creaky Crystals, lazily and half-heartedly meditating instead of working … and then he was daydreaming. Well, he thought he was, but he was actually seeing the future.
Maybe I’m trying too hard this time?
For over an hour he let himself relax, hoping a vision would come to him, but nothing happened
.
Then images flashed in front of him: flowers, cobbles, a wall, rain, soggy black hair, pictures, flowers, the lower grounds, flowers, notes, flowers, Creaky Crystals, bouquets of flowers, tears.
There were fleeting sounds. He
felt
the imagery, sharp but too quick to grasp. There, then gone. Rapid, stinging.
A painful throb entered his skull. Opening his eyes, he groaned. He dropped his head heavily into his hands and squeezed both eyes shut as if it would force the splitting headache away.
Arrghh! What the hell was that?
Chapter 4
Juliet Maystone was becoming disconcerted. She had thought the strange happenings would have stopped by now.
She was wrong.
The night of the incident, an ethereal voice filled her room as she tried to sleep, apparently trying to say something: ‘Allld … Gre …’, ‘Saam … Cr …’, but Juliet smothered her head and ears under a pillow and forced herself to sleep.
The next morning, she dropped and smashed her mug of coffee when a shadow flittered across the tiled kitchen floor, as if someone had run past her.
When nothing more happened for the rest of the morning, she returned to her rational and realistic grasp on reality. After thirty minutes on her treadmill, she went food shopping, returned home, and stocked her fridge and freezer. Everything was bought in surfeit, leaving the refrigerator crammed by the time she was done, and although she couldn’t possibly to get through it all alone, she at least had the option of variety.
Being in her empty house kindled loneliness in her. She resolved to call her parents.
The dial tone rang for an age before an answer came.
‘Hello, Juliet Maystone!’ her mother answered, elongating every sound.
‘Hi, Mum,’ Juliet said, and paused, as if waiting for permission to say more.
‘How
are
you my angel?’ The word ‘angel’ became ‘ayyyngel’.
‘I’m fine, Mum. I was just thinking of you and Dad and thought I would call.’
‘Aw, sweetie, how lovely,’ her mother said mechanically. ‘You’re most welcome to come and visit.’
‘I’ll see when I can.’ Her parents lived in Marbella, Spain. It wasn’t hard to travel there but Juliet liked to keep herself busy, and she had Chanton Hillview to manage.
Mr and Mrs Maystone were one of the first couples to win the UK National Lottery jackpot in 1994. Because it was a substantial amount of money, Juliet had grown up in wealth, but as soon as she turned eighteen her parents moved to Marbella. Juliet had wanted to stay in Chanton, so her mum and dad bought her the café and left her their house. As an only child, she’d taken it as their acknowledgement that she’d become an adult, their way of recognising and supporting all that she had achieved and
would
achieve.
‘Well, let us know in advance darling,’ her mother said. ‘We’ll pay for everything.’ As her parents rented out property across Spain and had made profits on various investments, the money wasn’t wearing thin.
‘Thank you, Mum.’ Juliet was now twenty-five, but felt reduced to the age of ten when she spoke to her mother. ‘Something happened yesterday, Mum. I was almost hit by a car.’
Juliet’s body relaxed with subtle relief; it was good to tell someone about the incident.
‘One second, Juliet, bear with me.’ The voice disappeared, and Juliet heard her mother talk to someone else in the background. ‘I’m back. Sorry, what did you say?’
‘I said I was almost hit by a car. It could have crushed me.’
‘Really? Gosh, sweetie. Well, I’ll get your dad to wire over some money. You go and treat yourself; forget
all
about it,’ she said, stolidly.
‘No, Mum. It doesn’t really matter. I just wanted to talk about it.’ Hurt was apparent in her voice.
‘Well, you’re alive aren’t you? That’s all that counts.’
‘Yes, I suppose.’ Juliet held back tears, mentally telling herself to stop being so stupid and self-centred. Why should her mum care?
‘Anyway, sweetie, your dad’s in the swimming pool. I’ll have to dash. Let us know if you’re going to visit. Kisses, mwah!’
‘Can I say hello to Dad quickly …?’ but Mrs Maystone hung up mid-question.
Fighting off her self-pity, Juliet found a trashy novel to read and placed herself far inside of it. When her mind drifted back to the phone call, she rationalised that it was childish expecting a reaction from her mother anyway.
Gran would have cared,
she thought
, Stop it, they do care.
Finding things to do, she sketched up a new layout for the café and fantasised over the thought of redecorating the entire place. Later on she cleaned the house, worked a shift at a local charity shop she volunteered at, went cycling, read a book on nutrition, ate dinner alone, and then had a long bath. The whole time she was alert and half expecting for something seemingly paranormal to happen.
That night passed without any strange happenings. On Sunday, she did some garden keeping and then spent the rest of her day practicing Spanish and working on an assignment for a Diet and Nutrition home-study course she’d enrolled on a few months ago. The course was purely out of interest, but some of what she’d learnt so far was useful for the café too. And learning Spanish was just a practicality for when she visited her parents.
On Monday morning she was in the kitchen filling the kettle with water and thinking of the car incident and how lucky she was to be alive. With a smile she looked up at her reflection in the window. The only problem was: the reflection wasn’t hers. Somebody else’s face was on her body, staring back at her.
Throwing herself backwards, she screamed and fell onto hard tiles. The impact hurt her wrists, but there was no time for pain. When she stood up, the image was her own again. She touched her face to validate, then rotated her wrists to soften the pain inflicted from her fall.
As she turned to leave the kitchen, she heard a voice, crystal-clear. ‘Help me,’ it said. A chill prickled down her spine. She ran to her bedroom, wanting to sob. But what was the point?
I can’t cry, no.
Covering her ears, she waited until her confidence returned. When it did, she decided to seek help.
Remembering someone she’d heard of, she pulled out her laptop and searched on Google: Contact number Tamara Trewin Lansin Island Willow. The website she was looking for appeared. She clicked the link then read the ‘about’ section:
Tamara Trewin, the last living descendent of the famous Lansin Island Witches. Psychic. Medium. Healer. Clairvoyant. She performs psychic readings, dream interpretations, energy healings and more. Party events are considered. Tamara also harnesses the ability to communicate with spirits: your loved ones who have passed on. To book an appointment with Tamara, call the contact number below. Located in Willow, Lansin Island. Directions can be given over the phone.
Juliet squandered no time. She booked an appointment to see the medium, and as if by fate Tamara had a cancellation for the next day. So Juliet waited.
*
Deciding what to wear for the appointment proved difficult; she checked both of her wardrobes and just couldn’t decide. She felt fragile, and what if the medium wanted her to do some kind of ritual dance or something?
What have I got myself into?
Having never been superstitious before, she dreaded the meeting and felt completely and utterly embarrassed about booking it in the first place.
There was no denying the phenomena she’d witnessed, and getting to the bottom of it was the most logical step; even if it meant seeking help from unusual sources. Or so she told herself. With that logic firm in mind, she shoved on the most basic clothes she had. After all, there was no one to impress in a little hamlet such as Willow.
A green jumper-style hoody, black skinny jeans and fur-lined boots were sufficient. Not
everything
she owned was designer. On the way out, she remembered to grab a pair of gloves.
Buses to Willow ran only one every hour and a half, making Juliet almost wish she’d purchased a car. But as she lived walking-distance from everywhere in Chanton that she needed to visit, and transport to Amiton town centre ran on a frequent basis, she’d never had much need of one.
On arriving in Willow she remembered the directions she was given:
Facing the plaque in front of the white willow tree, follow the path to the left. It’s the second house along.
The houses in the hamlet were primarily thatched cottages, some newer and larger, and all built to match the style of the smaller abodes that appeared centuries old.
It was a quaint and picturesque place, where time moved slower.
‘Are you lost, love?’ a man’s voice grabbed her attention.