Mind Reader

by Kirsty McManus

  “I don’t know. But if you ever meet her, you’ll see she’s not the sentimental type.”

  I carry one of them over to the couch and sit down beside him. “If I ever meet your mother, huh?” I tease.

  “Believe me, I would introduce you to my parents in a second, only I want to protect you as long as possible from their judgment. Trust me when I say you don’t want to rush into that.”

  “But I’m curious to see where you came from.”

  “All in good time, all in good time.”

  I flick open the diary. “Maybe I’ll learn something in here. Have you read them?”

  “Not yet. I was waiting until the right moment. I know it sounds weird, but I wanted to save them until I felt I really needed them.”

  “Oh, are you okay with me looking at them now?”

  “Of course. Please. Go ahead.”

  I skim the first few pages. “What was her name?”

  “Anne.”

  “And your grandfather?”

  “John.”

  “Do you know how old they were when they met?”

  “I think Grandma was only sixteen, and Grandad was eighteen. It was right after the Second World War ended.”

  “Wow. It’s crazy, huh? That people only two generations ago were involved in something so huge?”

  “Yeah.”

  The diary I’m reading is from 1946, so not long after they would have met.

  I pause on an entry that looks like it’s written in a hurry, as if Anne couldn’t get the words down on the page fast enough.

  I don’t believe it! I can’t predict John’s soulmate! I had held off trying for so long because I didn’t want to see the woman who would eventually come and steal him away from me. But when I finally tried, I saw nothing. And not my usual nothing, when I get that strange haze symbolising someone who doesn’t have another soulmate coming, but NOTHING AT ALL! What does it all mean?

  My heart stops. I remember Kellan saying that even his mother could see they didn’t need a prediction to know they were soulmates. Does that mean…?

  Kellan notices my expression and frowns. “What?”

  I silently hand over the diary, open to the page.

  He takes it and reads it.

  After a moment, his eyes widen. “She had the same power! How did I not know this?”

  “But also, look at what she’s saying!”

  He stares at me. “Do you think…?”

  I feel tears prick at my eyes. “Maybe.”

  He shakily puts the diary down on the coffee table in front of us and takes both my hands.

  “If I’m being honest, I already knew from the day we met. Beatrix Mackenzie, I know without a doubt you’re my soulmate.”

  I look back into those gorgeous eyes, and everything else fades away. He’s right. I knew almost from the start too. Maybe even from that very first cab ride. Kellan Gallo is the sweetest, smartest, funniest man I know, and the idea of not spending the rest of my life with him makes me feel like only half a person.

  I kiss his lips and smile. “You already convinced me soulmates existed, and now I’m lucky enough to have one of my own.”

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  ONE YEAR LATER…

  Kellan

  I can’t believe I live in a house with a white picket fence and the girl of my dreams.

  I gave up my apartment at the Meriton a few months after Beatrix and I came back from Singapore. She was the one to suggest it, which I thought was adorable. I’d been considering asking her to move in with me pretty much since she told me she loved me, but I didn’t want to scare her away. But when she suggested it and invited me to buy a house with her, I agreed immediately.

  I’m so glad it’s the weekend. We’ve been flat out lately. Charlie has revolutionised our department, helping us become more profitable than ever. Who would have thought that the crazy little firebrand had such great leadership skills? Obviously Beatrix did, which is why she backed her for the position in the first place.

  I’ve been studying at night for the past year, trying to complete my science degree as quickly as possible so I can finally take on Charlie’s old position. I’ve temporarily given up my soulmate matching gig to free up time, but I plan on resuming it soon.

  I lazily stretch my arms overhead, which causes Beatrix to stir. She’s lying naked next to me in our bed—a sight I will never tire of.

  “Morning, beautiful,” I say.

  “Morning, my handsome soulmate matcher.”

  “On-hiatus soulmate matcher.”

  She props herself up on her pillows. “I’ve been thinking about that. You should go back at least one night a week.”

  “But I still have a ton of units left to study.”

  “Exactly. I don’t think you should give it up until you graduate. Predicting soulmates is something that makes you happy, isn’t it?”

  “It does,” I admit.

  “So call up Roxy and tell her you’re going back on Saturday nights. I can be your assistant.”

  I laugh. “You want to be my assistant?”

  “Yep. I’ve been thinking, and I want to help track all your predictions. I mean, I know you already have records, but I want to be a part of it all…see what happens from the moment you predict someone’s match, up until they meet them, and beyond.”

  “You want to see if I get it wrong, don’t you?” I tease.

  “Actually, no. I know you get them all right. I want to help show the world that true love is more prevalent than most people realise. Before I met you, I had no idea this kind of happiness was possible. People need more good examples, so they know not to give up hope.”

  “You wouldn’t mind hanging out at Heaven Sent? I know you and Roxy got off to a rough start.”

  “That’s true, and it was completely my fault. But I think she’s forgiven me since then. Besides, she’s so wrapped up in her own love bubble at the moment, she probably won’t even notice I’m around.”

  “That’s true.” Roxy finally got her match a couple of months ago, a beautiful woman from the Philippines called Mahalia. I always get a kick out of meeting the real-life versions of the people I see in visions, but seeing Roxy meet Mahalia was extra special. I happened to be at Heaven Sent one afternoon after work visiting Roxy when Mahalia came in, applying for a DJ position. I didn’t say anything at first, but a month later, I couldn’t help myself. Roxy said she could tell from my face from that first afternoon, but she didn’t mind. She said she also got a feeling immediately.

  There’s a knock at the door.

  “Are you expecting anyone?” I ask.

  “Nope. Which means it’s probably Charlie. But it will take you less time to get dressed than me, so you can get it,” she says playfully.

  I mock-sigh and roll out of bed, pulling on some pants and a shirt. I lean over and kiss Beatrix’s neck before heading to the door.

  When I open it, I see that it is, in fact, Charlie. And she’s brought someone with her. “Well, well, well!”

  Charlie rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know. You don’t have to gloat.”

  “Please, come in. I can’t wait for Bea to see this.”

  “Why did it take you so long to answer the door?” She sees Beatrix coming out of the bedroom, zipping up the back of her dress and grins. “Ah. Never mind.”

  Beatrix hasn’t yet seen Charlie’s guest and continues into the kitchen. “Hey, babe. I was just about to make coffee. You want some?”

  “Yes, please. Jack might want one too.”

  Beatrix finally looks up as Charlie and Jack join her.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Ja…” She trails off, and her eyes widen. “You have red hair!”

  Jack laughs nervously. “That I do. Thanks to Charlie, I already feel self-conscious enough about that fact…”

  “No! It’s not a bad thing! It’s a very good thing!” Beatrix turns to me, a huge smile on her face. “Kellan!”

  “I know.” I smile smugly.

  �
��Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Jack asks, confused.

  “Uh…” Beatrix looks at Charlie, who subtly shakes her head. I can imagine if they’ve only just met, it might scare the guy to immediately know what we know. And since she broke up with Zane a few months back, she’s been a bit melancholy. Despite them discussing their future kids’ names on their first date, the guy later told her he didn’t actually want children—and then promptly went out and got another woman pregnant.

  “It’s nothing,” I say smoothly. “We were just saying how we couldn’t wait for Charlie to find someone. So, how did you two lovebirds meet?”

  Charlie takes over, pushing Jack into one of our armchairs. “See, babe, I told you they were weird. Kellan is a soulmate matcher, so he loves to see people together. And Bea, well, she’s my bestie, so she just wants to see me happy.”

  “You’re a soulmate matcher?” Jack asks me.

  “That’s right.”

  “So, do you have a dating app or something?”

  “Oh. No! Not that kind of matching. The stuff I do is a little more specific. But enough about me. Bea, I guess you have some notes to take?”

  She looks at me, confused for a moment, until it dawns on her.

  “That’s right. I’m uh, researching couples, since I never had any good role models growing up. Tell me everything about you guys.”

  Charlie laughs. “Steady on. We only met a week ago.”

  Jack looks at Charlie. “I know this sounds weird, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. I’ll happily talk about how we met. I was in line at the supermarket…”

  I make eye contact with Beatrix, and she smiles delightedly.

  I love that woman. And I’m so glad she finally believes in happily ever afters.

  Because she deserves one, and I want to be there to live it with her.

  HAVE YOU READ 1996 YET?

  When food blogger Anna Matthews takes a vitamin supplement that thrusts her back in time to 1996—and into her sixteen year old body—she is naturally a little shocked. But after a hasty re-assimilation, she decides to take advantage of this amazing second chance to view her teenage years from a more mature perspective.

  But with the effectiveness of each dose only lasting twelve hours, and any new actions initiated in the past having no effect on the future, Anna wonders whether taking it again would serve any purpose.

  Of course, curiosity gets the better of her, and she soon becomes addicted to travelling back in time to relive what she originally believed to be some of her best memories.

  Knowing that her husband grew up in the same area—and with him unwilling to talk about the past—Anna decides to track him down in 1996. But an unexpected discovery forces her to make a heartbreaking decision that will change both her and her husband’s future forever.

  ONE

  Saturday 22nd June 1996

  Dear Diary,

  What a crappy day! I mean, it started out OK, but it ended pretty badly. I stayed at Kelsey’s last night and we slept in until lunchtime, so that was all right. But then I got home and Mum was all mad because I hadn’t done enough around the house or something…she has no idea how busy my life is! Between school, work, dealing with girl dramas, and managing my love life, I don’t really have any time left over to worry about stupid things like whether I’ve left my clothes on the floor in my bedroom. Does it really matter in the scheme of things?

  Anyway, I had to work from 4 – 8 tonight and then Kelsey and I went to Rachel’s party. That’s when things took a turn for the worse…

  “Anna! Are you still reading that damn diary?”

  I look up at Ed, surprised by his tone. “What do you mean? I only found it this morning.”

  “Yes, but you’ve been glued to it for the last hour and a half. It’s like you’re obsessed or something.”

  “That’s a bit harsh. I wouldn’t say I was obsessed. Just interested in what I got up to back in high school.”

  He wrinkles his nose. “High school was bad enough the first time around. I couldn’t think of anything worse than reliving it.”

  “But that’s the interesting thing. I thought high school was awful too. I was always stressed out…I was insecure…and I never knew who my real friends were—but reading back now I can see it wasn’t all bad.” I close the diary and stand up to give my husband a hug. “But don’t think for a second I wish I was anywhere else right now.”

  He half-heartedly returns the embrace. “Okay, sorry I hassled you. But what was I supposed to think? You’ve had this dopey grin on your face all morning. And look!” He points to the words I LOVE JOHN written on the spine of the diary.

  I frown. “I don’t understand why you’d be annoyed by that. I don’t even know which John that was.”

  “Well, that’s not very comforting. How many Johns were you in love with?”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Mostly celebrity ones, like Travolta. And Depp. Although, I probably would have written Johnny if that was the case…”

  “Stop! I get it. You were a little groupie.”

  I stare at him. “Why does this bother you so much?”

  “I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem healthy.”

  “Are you annoyed because you’re not mentioned in there?”

  “Don’t be silly. We hadn’t even met.”

  I squeeze his cheeks, trying to lighten the mood. “Aw, my poor little baby is jealous.”

  He slaps my hands away. “I’m not jealous. Forget it. Do whatever you want to do. I have to go or I’ll be late.”

  Wow. Okay. He is genuinely affected by this. “Do you think you’ll be out all day?” I ask in a small voice.

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll text you later.”

  “All right. And I’ll put the diary away. I’m sorry if I made you feel weird.”

  He gives me a peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

  I watch him leave, feeling a strange mix of emotions. I’m not obsessed with the past, am I? It wasn’t like I was gushing about all the people I used to be friends with, or all the boys I had crushes on. I really did not know who the John was on the spine, because I didn’t date one in 1996. And it’s not like I had started today determined to relive my so-called ‘glory days’. I had needed some inspiration for a new blog recipe and had gone to the garage to locate my old cookbooks. My parents recently downsized their house, and Dad had dropped off a box containing my diaries and some other stuff a few months back. I forgot it was even there until this morning, when I stumbled upon it by accident.

  It’s so strange, reading back over your life as an adult. The events are familiar, but it’s like they happened to someone else. And I was so clueless! Reading between the lines now, I can see how things really were. For example, I always thought of myself as a bit of a loner, but looking back, I was constantly surrounded by people. And I clearly didn’t appreciate how much my poor parents suffered with me flitting in and out at all hours, not considering their situation for even a second.

  I carry my diary into the garage and tuck it back in the box. There are at least half a dozen other diaries in there, mixed in with some old CDs, stuffed toys and junk jewellery. I don’t have anything pressing to do today, but Ed’s reaction just now has made me feel strangely guilty. Further exploration can wait until later.

  I go back inside and straighten the house. Not that it needs a lot of tidying. Ed and I are both very house-proud, so we always put everything away as soon as we’ve used it. We live in a restored Queenslander in Balmoral—a three-bedroom home with newly painted eggshell walls and blonde timber floorboards. Sometimes I wander down the hallway and marvel over the fact that I co-own this place with my handsome husband. We’ve both worked very hard to get where we are—Ed is a criminal defence lawyer at a well-known firm on Eagle Street—and I’ve made a bit of a name for myself as a food blogger. Today is Saturday, but lately Ed has been working on the weekends to try and clear a backlog of cases, so I’ve been treati
ng Saturday as a work day too.

  After making the bed and loading the breakfast dishes into the dishwasher, I head into my study to boot up my computer. I run a healthy dessert website, and I am very fortunate to be paid for doing something I love. I got into the business before every man and his dog decided to do the same thing, so I already had all my processes refined, plus a loyal fan base by the time the internet got crowded. I have also published a cookbook, which brings in some passive income, and I have an ongoing sponsorship with a nutritional supplement company. They basically pay me to advertise their products and incorporate their ingredients into my recipes. I have over 400,000 Instagram followers, and my blog gets a couple of million visits each month.

  Before I started doing this, I studied to be a pastry chef at a school in Paris, and then I did a dietician’s course when I returned to Australia. These days, I try and stay up to date with workshops and online study.

  But my day begins fairly boringly with admin. I quickly skim through my emails and find the usual…a ton of spam and businesses wanting me to promote their overpriced detox diets and exercise programs. I don’t even reply to them anymore. I have an exclusive deal with my sponsor, and I only agreed to work with them because I believe in their products.

  After approving a few dozen reader comments on my blog, I open up Wordpress to type up my next recipe. I already tested it out yesterday—a date and walnut slice made with almond meal and coconut flour.

  I spend a bit of time creating a cute backstory—today’s being inspired by the past and recalling my grandmother’s fantastic baking from when I was a child. She was an amazing cook, even up to the day she died. I learned a lot from her.

  I include all the ingredients and method for my latest creation, and then upload the photos I’ve already taken. Fortunately, this batch didn’t need much Photoshopping. I’m quite proud of my food photography. It took a bit of practice, but I noticed that my following increased once I figured out the best angles and lighting for my dishes.