by Finegan, KT
‘Angel. You know when you said you had met your Guardian Angel? Do you think I could do that sometime as well? It probably sounds mad, but I feel like it would take me closer to Granny, if you know what I mean. How would I do it?’
She gave me a gentle smile. ‘Kirsty, you can do it any time you like. I do know what you mean about looking for that closeness. Would you like me to help? I run workshops at the café to help other people connect.’
‘I don’t know if you told me that, but I was hoping you could help me. Can we do it now?’
‘Of course.’ She put her hot chocolate mug down on the table, and stood up. ‘Give me a few minutes to prepare. I’ll go into the other room and take a moment to myself. It’s always important to take these types of meditations seriously.’
She walked towards the door then stopped. ‘Always use your own instinct, your gut response, to know if you have met the best teacher for you. No-one can choose someone for you. It has to be your choice, but I am so pleased you have asked me. Just let me take a few minutes to ensure my energies are clear and true. I’ll dim the lights and put on some music to relax you, and when I come back in I’ll take you through what we call a guided meditation. Basically, you go with my voice and see where it takes you in your mind. If you feel it’s your imagination, then that’s okay as well. This is about making you feel better, Does that sound okay to you?’
I nodded and made myself cosy on the big sofa, propped up on cushions in front of the candles and flickering stove. I pulled a large, pale lilac, fleecy blanket over me. It felt so comforting against my skin and I relaxed further into the sofa listening to the music. It had an eastern sound, with a woman’s voice not really singing but more like holding notes. ‘Toning’ was what Angel had called it.
When she came back into the room, I smelt some incense and the music was turned down. I found that I couldn’t open my eyes, it was as if something soft but powerful was holding me against the cushions. Not in a bad way or anything. I was so relaxed, I found I was on the edge of sleep.
Angel told me to take in a long slow breath, and then to release it slowly.
She spoke quietly, her tone soothing. ‘Imagine you are sitting in the middle of a bubble of pearly pink light and as you breathe in it is filling your head, your throat, your neck and shoulders, your arms and hands, working its way down your body, into your heart, your torso, legs and feet. Feel your whole body fill with this palest pink light, and relax. Feel your body lighten. Feel any heaviness, any tension or stress soften and be replaced with the pink light. Feel it in your skin, your muscles, your blood. Think what it feels like to be filled with pink light.
‘Have the word “peace” in your mind, see it in your mind’s eye, hear it whispered in your ear, feel it surround you. Focus on what it would feel like to breathe in peace. Breathe in and breathe out slowly, relax, have only the word peace in your mind… let any other thoughts just drift away for now….’
Her voice had taken on a dreamy quality and I hovered on the edge of sleep, waking myself up as I almost dropped off, or so it seemed. Perhaps the whole experience was a dream. It felt like that.
‘Kirsty, visualise a set of stone steps in front of you… they are taking you somewhere special… to a secret garden where only you can go… and your guests… people you want to meet. This evening you will meet your Guardian Angel. She is waiting for you at the top of the steps in your secret garden. Know that you are safe… you are surrounded with love and peace… Slowly climb the stairs into your secret garden. See all the beautiful flowers all around you, hear the sound of birdsong, smell the fragrance of your favourite flowers… this place is magical to you…
‘At the top of the stairs is your Guardian Angel. If you want, she can come closer and let you sense her more. Feel her energies of love. She is here to help you with your life. She can share your worries, she wants to help. Nothing you can do, or have done, will stop her from loving you.’
At this point I could feel warm tears running slowly down my cheeks. Whether it was imagination or a dream, I did not know. But in my mind I had created a beautiful garden; multi-coloured flowers were all around me. I could hear birds singing and the distant drone of big fat bumble bees, and there were purple and pink butterflies darting in and out of the flower beds. Colours clashed crazily.
I was at the top of these old stone steps, and either side of me were plants and bushes in amazing colours of red, pink, blue, orange and yellow. I could see tiny little fairies in my mind, like fireflies lighting up my path. At that moment I sensed something coming towards me. It looked like a round rainbow of light. It didn’t look like a person. Or at least, not like a human person.
It seemed unlikely even in my imagination that this could be an angel. But I asked: ‘Are you my Guardian Angel?’ I sensed it laugh… not in an unkind way or anything, more like in amusement. And that made me laugh, too. Like we were sharing a joke and really connecting.
The rainbow slowly opened up and revealed a being of light. I now knew what Angel had meant, because that was the only way to describe this vision. It stood about eight feet high, and was of the palest lemon and gold. I could see through it, but at the same time it seemed whole and solid. I was looking into a face as beautiful as any statue carved by an Italian Master, but with eyes which reflected back to me wonder and love. I realised that was the expression I was wearing as I looked at it. I didn’t know if it was male or female, but that didn’t seem to matter.
I could sense myself crying, my eyes were burning, and it opened its arms to me to walk into an embrace so light and yet so strong. I had the feeling that this Being could and would do anything for me. I only had to ask, and in that moment I realised that had always been my difficulty. For some reason, independence in my mind had meant separation, never asking for help. But this Being knew me, it knew all my foibles and had waited for me. I felt an overwhelming sense of love spread through my whole body. It felt good to be me, and I can’t say I’d ever felt that way before. It was like the feeling you experience when you are in the first days of a new romantic love… but a million times better.
Very naturally, and in what felt like perfect timing, it released me and told me that it was always with me, urged me to tell all my worries to it, and said that it loved me unconditionally. With that, it seemed to retreat slightly, and I was aware of Angel’s voice again, soothing me back to the sofa and out of my dream-like state.
‘You know your angel is always with you,’ she said. ‘You can talk to your angel any time, or ask for her help. For now, thank her for joining you, retrace your steps back down the staircase in your garden, and I’ll count back from ten… nine… eight… seven… six… start to move your body… feel your fingers and toes… five… four… stretch your body slowly… feel the sofa beneath you… three… two… one… take a moment… rub your palms together and hold them against your eyes. Do this three times, feeling the warmth from your palms on your eyes. Now take a deep breath and open your eyes.’
She didn’t need to ask what had happened. My tears and distress must have been obvious, but now I felt relaxed, and really calm and centred. She suggested I drink a couple of glasses of water before bed, then left me sitting on the sofa, basking in the heat and light from the stove and from inside of me.
After a few minutes, I stood up, said good night, and went through to bed, hoping that I would sleep well after such a beautiful experience. Had it all been a dream? My imagination? It was so hard to tell.
It took me a while to fall asleep, part of me was still unsettled and worried by the experience at the hall. It had all seemed so alien to our little town, or was that the way life was nowadays everywhere? I kept re-running the meeting like a movie in my mind, still surprised at how quickly people had become angry with each other. No-one had listened to what was going on, and what about that group who had appeared? They looked like trouble to me, and I had a horrible feeling th
at worse was to come.
The church bells sounded out two in the morning before I finally slept. Again, I had strange dreams. This time I was in a cave and my gran was just out of reach. Every time I leaned out to touch her, a dark shadow came over me and I knew a horrible monster was waiting for me. This seemed to go on all night, waking and sleeping, waking and sleeping, until somewhere in my mind I knew I could ask for help. My angel! I asked her to come into my dreams to help me, and then exhaustion took over and I finally fell into a deep sleep.
17
I woke to the sound of Angel banging the external door on the way out of the flat. As had become my habit, I made a cup of tea and took it back to bed. Despite my rotten sleep, I felt strangely energised. It was as if I knew something was about to happen, but I wasn’t worried. I took time to reply to texts from some friends in London who were worried they hadn’t heard from me. I couldn’t face talking to anyone yet, especially Derek, so I told them I’d be in touch as soon as I was organised.
I showered quickly, straightened my hair, and headed out to the town museum. Walking through the courtyard felt strange, and now that I knew what the pyramid was used for, I had a new respect for it. I didn’t pop in to see Angel as the cafe looked busy and I didn’t want to distract her. Instead, I walked down past The Three Keys. Grizelle’s shop, Serendipity, was not yet open for business, and I was relieved as I felt I wanted to do this research alone and I knew she’d want to help.
At this time, most of the shops in the High Street were just opening up but there weren’t many shoppers around. Outside the Memorial Hall I saw lots of litter where the protestors had dropped their leaflets and banners. One of the glass panels in the door was cracked, no doubt from last night’s meeting, and a police car was parked outside.
I walked past the butcher’s, the fishmonger’s and the baker’s shops, the bank and post office. Before crossing over to the Tolbooth – one of the oldest buildings in the town, and where the museum was housed – I shuddered as I saw a huge black rat squeeze itself through the drain and run down the gutter. It was horrible. Even though London was supposed to be filthy and my office building was located near to the Thames, I’d thankfully never seen a rat there. This was different. This was in the middle of a little Scottish market town, with countryside all around us. Field mice you might expect, but not a big black rat.
I shivered and walked over to the Tolbooth. I knew that black cats crossing your path were supposed to be lucky. But I wasn’t too sure about rats.
A little bell tinkled on the door as I walked into the white two-storey building, and followed the signs through to the museum area. Huge windows overlooked the park which ran down to the river below, providing a stunning view, even in the winter.
The museum itself was small, with about six glass-topped cases stationed around the room. Inside were displays of pottery shards, coins, and clothing, with little white description cards explaining what each item was and where it had been found. There was also an exhibition area set out, with boards showing photographs of old buildings and a timeline of the town’s history. I wandered from case to case as I’d done on previous visits. It all looked the same, and nothing really caught my attention.
At the information desk was the little bird-like lady who had held my arm at Granny’s funeral. I couldn’t remember her name. She looked even tinier than she had at the graveside. She smiled sweetly at me as I got closer, and I realised she had cataracts in her eyes so probably didn’t recognise me.
‘Hello, again,’ I said. ‘It’s Kirsty… thank you for coming to Gran’s funeral.’
‘Oh my dear, it’s so good of you to come and see me here. You must be lost without her. I know I am. She volunteered with me here at the museum, and I’m struggling without her. She could see so well, you know, and was always so fit and full of energy. I was just saying to myself that I so wish Kirsten was here, and then you walked in. It’s as if she sent you!’
‘Oh that’s lovely, Mrs… Miss… Kilpatrick.’ I managed to read her name badge. I hated getting someone’s name wrong.
‘It hasn’t sunk in yet that she won’t be back here with me. I think I’ll have to give up my volunteering, I miss her so much…’ Miss Kilpatrick pulled a little lacy-edged handkerchief from the sleeve of her green woollen cardigan and dabbed at her sightless eyes. For a moment I forgot my own grief as I tried to comfort this little, old, half-blind lady missing her old friend.
‘I hadn’t realised Gran spent so much time here,’ I told her. ‘Did she have a locker or anything? I’m trying to look through her things in case she left anything… for me.’ I finished hesitantly. I didn’t want to upset this lady any more than she was already.
‘No, we don’t have anything like that,’ she said. ‘We have a wee staff room through there,’ she gestured towards the exhibition area, ‘but all we keep are the tea things and some biscuits. Would you like to join me in a cup?’
I offered to make her a cup of tea but said I couldn’t stay too long as I had so much to do. I had a feeling that she would have struggled to make a cup without burning herself, and it also gave me a few minutes on my own in the private area of the museum. While I waited for the kettle to boil I had a look around, but there was nothing to catch my attention, just some storage boxes of more coins and metal objects marked as found by the local archaeological society. The space was clean and tidy but uninspiring, and I couldn’t feel my gran anywhere.
I left Miss Kilpatrick with a cup of tea and some chocolate digestives I’d found in the biscuit box, and decided to go into the library to see if there was anything for me there. Out in the grey drizzle once more, a sharp wind blew some rubbish along the street towards me. I winced as a protruding nail from a pallet box caught my calf, cutting through my trousers to rip my flesh. I had a horrible sensation of that black rat and some of its friends sniffing my blood in the air, and I shivered again at the thought.
Around the corner from the Tollbooth was Hope Street and the imposing sandstone pillars of the library. Like the Memorial Hall, it had been built when the town thrived. A glass and brass revolving door opened onto a wood-panelled entrance hall, and the smell of furniture polish and books tickled my nose. Sunlight from a large glass dome, high overhead, caught the dust particles and for a moment I thought it looked like the shape of a woman. As I blinked in astonishment, it disappeared.
I could see into the two large rooms either side of the main entrance, both were full of well stacked bookcases. In front of me, some steps led up to a glass door marked Reading Room. I had a feeling that’s where Gran would have spent her time. I followed an arrow and a gold scripted sign saying Local Interest towards the back of the room, behind some high shelves.
Another sign pointed towards a large, dark, wooden door, marked Private. I turned the brass handle but it was locked, and there was no-one around to help. I walked back downstairs and found the librarians’ desk in the first room to the left of the revolving door. There was a small typed sign apologising for staff shortages and explaining that staff were on other duties elsewhere in the library and would return in half an hour.
I sighed with frustration. I had pinned my hopes on finding something of my gran’s at the library and I really didn’t want to have to wait. At that moment I saw a little flutter of white wings at the very edge of my vision. It was like the moth from the graveyard. As I turned, I lost sight of it, and then it was at the edge of my vision again, like it was dancing out of sight but leading me back out into the entrance hall and towards the Reading Room. With another faint flutter, I found myself outside the locked room once more.
I had the strangest feeling in my stomach. The sign said Private, and the door was locked, yet something told me I was going inside. I hesitated for a moment, not sure what to do, when a little voice in my head said, ‘You have my keys, my girl.’
18
Given that those keys had let me into the church
, I shouldn’t really have been surprised that my gran had a key for a locked, private room in the town library. I tried a few of the keys in the big brass lock before hearing a click, and I squeezed through the entrance, quickly closing the door behind me. With any luck no-one would know I was in here and I could take my time.
It was a long, narrow room, with high walls topped with ornate plasterwork. The floor was oak, and high wooden shelves were lined up along the walls, stuffed with books, documents, rolled-up maps and ribbon-tied parchments, some in open boxes and baskets. There was so much stuff I didn’t know where to start.
The thick dust made me sneeze repeatedly. Some light came in from opaque windows on the ceiling, but it was dull outside and I couldn’t see clearly. There was an array of plastic buckets and bowls along the top shelves and dotted around the floor to catch water leaking from the roof, so a smell of dampness added to the aroma of old paper. In the centre of the room were two large wooden tables, with an ancient-looking brass desk lamp on each, and two tatty, green, leather-seated wooden chairs.
The whole room was shabby, dank, and dismal, but for the first time I felt that this would have been a perfect place for Gran to have left me a note. It would take weeks to go through everything, and I had no idea where to start looking. It had to be more obvious.
I had a quick scan through some of the shelves and saw lots of papers about the Town Council and lots of committee meetings; I knew it wouldn’t be there. Over on the opposite wall, the books looked older somehow, leather-bound volumes, some with what looked like wooden covers. That looked more promising, and suddenly I realised I wouldn’t find what I was looking for with my eyes.
I took a moment and tried to find that feeling I had experienced at the graveyard and again with Angel and Grizelle. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. It was almost there, but it still eluded me. I was too anxious, too intent on finding something.