She stood by the refreshments where a servant was pouring her a glass of punch. He wanted to approach her, but schooled himself to pause. He knew he would have to ask Sir Thomas or Mr. Madison for an introduction. It was against propriety to speak to her without one. There was no need to complicate things, he told himself. He had come here to accomplish the task of speaking with Sir Thomas and that was now completed. Instinctively he felt speaking with her would only confuse matters and he was unwilling to risk all that he had attained. He would walk away from her, but how he would undo the feeling that he was somehow bound to her he knew not.
Louisa
The baronet rejoined his daughter and she poured him a glass of punch. There was only one question on her mind.
“What did he want, father?” She had been disappointed to see that the gentleman had left before she could secure an introduction. She had been denied something she wanted and was unaccustomed to that. The feeling of frustration that followed felt filthy, unwelcome. A calm whisper in the back of her mind said: Later.
“Who, my dear? Mr. Mara?” She nodded, trying to stifle her interest like a gently-bred young lady would do. “Oh, it was business. He has an opportunity he would like to present to me. It involves Mull, where your mother was born which, I might add, was information that the young man was somehow privy to. I must say I find that I am very intrigued.” Sir Thomas took a sip of his punch and swallowed it reluctantly, distaste plain on his face. “Louisa, please tell me there is tea somewhere about. I cannot have another drop of that vile concoction.”
Louisa stifled a smirk. Her father could really only drink tea or wine, anything else caused him to become petulant. The punch had been a mischievous experiment on her part. “Of course father. I shall pour you some.”
“Thank you, my dear. Now, what was I saying? Oh yes, I have been thinking of involving myself in some kind of a project, though I confess Scotland was not really on my mind. Still, it would be a diversion. I am getting older! We do not want my mind going soft now do we?” Sir Thomas laughed at his own jest, but Louisa’s mind was on a different point.
“How curious…He knew that my mother was from Mull specifically? Is this why he approached you, sir?” she asked, now unable to hide her genuine interest.
“I believe that was part of the reason, but let us not speak of this any further. We are at a ball after all! The gentleman is to call tomorrow at our home. I will know much more by then and will share every detail with you. I promise,” he reassured her. Sir Thomas took her hand and patted it to reassure her. He then offered his arm to her and as she took it they walked to a part of the room that allowed them to better view the dancing.
Louisa knew he would keep his word. Since she had turned nineteen her father had kept her abreast of all the estate and business dealings because he knew she intended to remain single. Although most of the day-to-day issues would be handed over to a steward and solicitor, he seemed to feel it important she know as much as possible. They were both aware it was unconventional for a father to share this kind of knowledge with a daughter, but they trusted one another and it seemed needlessly unkind and unwise that Louisa be kept in the dark.
“Might I ask, father, could I be present during your meeting? I confess there is something about Mr. Mara’s request that troubles me, though I cannot say what at present.”
“If Mr. Mara is agreeable to it, I do not object. Now, I do believe your next partner has come to fetch you,” he said motioning to a gentleman approaching behind her. “Enjoy yourself, Louisa. You read and study so much and are so often alone; go be merry. No more talk of business!”
She smiled mildly at her father as she let go of his arm to take that of her dance partner.
Louisa went through the motions of the dance, but her mind was engaged elsewhere. She felt haunted by Mr. Mara in a way that both startled and excited her. This attraction to a stranger was territory as yet uncharted. Did this sort of thing happen to everyone? Did all people, at one time or another, feel drawn to another person in a way that seemed beyond their control? Louisa laughed as she realized how seriously she was being and resolved to keep her focus on the ball and think of Mr. Mara no more. Surely she could keep this promise at least until tomorrow when he called.
CHAPTER 9
Ellie
“Three, Two, One and you’re back” says a voice, softly. “I brought you out because this is your first regression. I don’t want to keep you under too long.”
I vaguely recognize the one who is speaking now as Mrs. Dawes.
I open my eyes too quickly and feel the light abrupt and all too bright. Sitting up, I peer through the slits of my fingers to reorient myself. I’m disappointed to be done so quickly. I wanted to spend more time with this woman…this me of the past. “I was fine, Mrs. Dawes, really.”
“I’m sure you were fine, but I’d rather give you a sense of what it’s like first.” She gets up and walking over to her desk, she pours a pitcher of water and fills two glasses. I sit up on the couch and accept mine gratefully. I hadn’t realized how much I had been talking.
“Well, love, that was definitely interesting! You were Louisa! And so the enigmatic Mr. Mara from back then is the same soul as your new friend Declan, eh?”
I whip my head in her direction. “How did you…?”
She waves her hand at me dismissively. “Ellie, please. Let’s just agree that I know a lot of things. If I feel the need to explain something to you, I will. If it’s the loving thing to do, I will do it.”
I nod at her. “I had a flashback -when I first met Declan of a man walking toward me in the rain. I know now that William was that man and at the time I sensed that the man was Declan in this lifetime.”
She reaches across from the chair where she was seated and pats my knee. “I’ve had past life memories of my own, you know. For instance, you were my father in a previous life.”
“Your what? How come you never told me that before?”
She shrugs. “I never felt the need to. Plus I knew you needed some more experience with these visions. When you’re willing to trust yourself, you realize that you just know. But of course, at some level you realize that already. We’re so fixated on physical proof in this world.”
She’s right. It’s not necessarily helpful for me to know everything right now. I sense that. I hadn’t realized how much I had been missing her wisdom. “If I had not met you, I doubt that I ever would have come to believe in reincarnation.”
She stares into the bottom of her water glass as if inspecting it for a tiny floating object. “Well, maybe you would and maybe you wouldn’t have. Does it really matter? The strength of your visions is a testament to the fact that you need to heal some things that took place in your lifetime as Louisa. You need to deal with it now, Ellie, not later. That much is clear.”
“Why that specific lifetime though? I’ve seen snippets of others.”
“Exactly. You’ve seen snippets of others, but since you’ve met Declan they’ve become more vivid, right?” I nod, remembering my promise not to ask questions. “Well, he’s back Ellie. William is back as Declan to heal the hurts the two of you experienced all those lifetimes ago. This is a gift. Whether he knows it or not, he’s giving you a gift.”
I shift uncomfortably at the mention of the word “hurts”. “You think we harmed each other in some way? Do you think he’s back for revenge or something?”
She laughs lightly. “No, love. That is not what I meant. We humans are always misunderstanding one another. We look for reasons to hate and also to feel guilty. You don’t always need to go poking around a past life to unearth this stuff, but apparently this is what is most helpful for you at this point in your life. Just go with it.”
“Should I tell him? About the visions, I mean.”
Mrs. Dawes stands up and stretches her arms above her head as she says, “Here’s the thing: you don’t really need his physical body to heal the wounds of the past. Healing is done on the level of
the mind. You’re healing as you’re recalling these events. His physical presence did trigger the memories, but the rest you can do on your own. If he’s got something to heal, I am sure it will come out. For now though, let’s just focus on you. Ok?”
I get up and hug her, overcome with gratitude. I squeeze her tight and let my face rest in her fuzzy red hair. Surprised at first, she quickly yields to it, hugging me back with equal fervour.
This is what I’ve been waiting for! I have direction. And even though I don’t know what to expect, I am so thankful to have her guidance. “Bless you, Mrs. Dawes!” I say into her hair not wanting to let her go. “What would I do without you?”
“Well, my dear, you don’t have to find out. I’m here for you. We are in this together. In the meantime, go about your normal life. See your friends; go to work. Meet me here the day after tomorrow at the same time and we’ll have another session. Sound good?” Her smile is warm, replete with quiet understanding.
“Yes absolutely. I cannot thank you enough,” I say, finally releasing her.
How have I not seen the miraculous woman I now see? It’s obvious I had taken her for granted for far too long. I wrote her off as an eccentric when I was in high school for no good reason. Clearly I had let my own fears about my visions blind me to a willing and able guide.
I leave the store feeling like a weight is finally being lifted. Maybe I’m not a freak after all. Maybe this has all been to help and not to make me feel so separate from everyone.
I think about my mother and how much I want to share this all with her. I think about Tynan and I wonder if he will understand.
Mostly though, I think about Declan and how hollow it feels to be missing the presence of a stranger.
CHAPTER 10
Declan
She is impossibly pretty and yet she has no earthly idea. How can that be?
I know where I recognized her from now. It was in my dreams, my nightmares even, but I won’t tell her that. The last thing I want to do is scare her off.
Can I do this? Can I be normal? Sane? In love? People like me don’t fall in love. We stalk, draw endless pictures; we write tortured poetry. We don’t fall in love. So I think maybe I should leave, go back to London before I lose everything I’ve built and forgotten. But I can’t stop thinking of her…
I had to blink twice when I saw her: A face of flawless joy and kindness, hair the colour of Prairie wheat and eyes like the bay of her birthplace.
Ellie matches this land, lays upon it accepting and yet denying it with that look in her eyes that says she knows something we don’t. Will she tell me what she knows? How much of what she hides will she show me?
Anything is possible, Mom always says. I could be the one she lets in. It could be me.
And then I think how stupid that is. She doesn’t need a crazy fuck-up in her life. Let her be, I tell myself. Let her be.
I stumble from my hotel bed to the mirror. I look so pathetically sad in comparison to her, as though serenity was her race and melancholy mine. Even when I smile, my blue eyes droop.
And I really need to shave my head. Who needs the responsibility of a comb? Not this man.
I hear the wind outside my window as it whistles and howls and I’m glad to be inside. I’ve always despised the wind in my ears. It’s the fear that the noise of it is blocking out something important that I need to hear like the honking of an oncoming truck, or a lover calling my name.
Ellie flashes in my mind again and instantly I want to see her naked. I would be good to her. I would not just love her and leave her. No, I would give her all the parts of me that are rational and I would be gentle.
I want to see her naked, but I want her secrets too. I want her lightly-freckled arms, her morning breath, her crappy pop music (I imagine this is true) and her perfection. I have an image of her already formed in my mind. I’ve assumed a lot of things about her, but I’ll surrender it all for her truth, whatever that is.
Is it normal to want another person to balance you out? She is everything sane, kind and lovely. I feel damaged at the core. At the very least, my mind is damaged. She could help me laugh at myself. She could help me.
God help me. I’m mad. I need some wine.
Ellie
Looking down at my phone I notice a missed call from my mother and six texts from Tynan. Not feeling up to questions from my mom quite yet, I send Tynan a message saying I will meet him at the Town Pump. But instead of heading there, I find myself walking up the hill to the inn. Taking a seat on the bench across the street from it, I pull my thick, black cotton dress down so that my tights don’t catch on the wooden slats. I look up to the windows tucked behind the wrought iron railings and wonder which one is his.
Just then I can feel someone behind me. I turn around to see Declan carrying a brown paper bag, his face softened by a smile.
“Well, I guess it was only a matter of time before we bumped into each other again, eh?” he says casually. I notice that in the bag he’s carrying is a bottle of wine. He must have just come out of the liquor store.
“Isn’t it a little early for that?” I ask with a giggle and then blush at my awkward clichéd joke.
“Is it?” he asks, with a questioning look. “In any case, I wasn’t planning on drinking it now.”
I look away slightly and wring my hands together nervously. “I’m sorry. I’m being nosy.”
“No, no! It’s fine, really. You’re not.” He’s shifting his gaze between me and the ground. I can tell I’ve made him anxious…again.
“I hope last night wasn’t too uncomfortable for you. Tynan is charming, normally, but he was a little intense last night. He takes on the role of big brother when other guys come around.”
Declan twists the top of the paper bag around the bottle neck and avoids my eyes, “I don’t think Tynan likes me too much…”
“Really? He’s protective of me for sure, but you and I just met so…And anyway, he just needs to get to know you,” I say with confidence I don’t really possess. I would love to see them together again to know that it was all a misunderstanding.
He pauses as though he’s searching for the right words and decides to sit down beside me. “I hope it’s ok to ask you this, but have you hooked up with Tynan before? You guys seem closer than friends…”
I cannot help myself. I laugh out loud. “Oh God, no! Tynan is gay.”
“Tynan is gay? And yet he lives up here? There can’t be that many gay men here.”
This is a common reaction when newcomers meet Tynan. He seems as though he could not possibly belong, but the truth is he could fit in anywhere. He has a sense of how to be, what to say and to still somehow be himself. It’s inspiring.
“He lived in Montreal for a year after high school and had a boyfriend. Guy was his name. The break-up was very messy. He refuses to talk about it and I don’t push him.”
“I see.” Declan clears his throat, unwilling to drop the subject. “Why did he move to Montreal? To meet guys?”
I look around me almost as if to make sure Tynan isn’t standing nearby, listening. “Well, he originally went to study music at McGill, but he only stayed for 2 semesters. Now he does some online marketing thing selling memberships to some website and he plays in a band.” I pause and wait to see if he wants me to continue. His face is nervous and yet expectant, as if he is gathering information. Briefly, I wonder again if Declan is gay and my heart instantly sinks.
As if my thoughts are written on my forehead Declan says, “Sorry for all the questions. I was just curious. He…uh, he seems like an interesting guy; that’s all.” He’s holding the wine bottle tightly in both hands, so tight that his knuckles are white. “So what about you? How do you meet guys up here?”
The question catches me off guard for a moment. I give a nervous laugh in order to buy myself some time. “I don’t. In the summer there are lots of people here, mostly families though. The guys that come are usually in big groups here to camp, fish or dive.”
I shift my feet in some gravel on the sidewalk and let the noise distract me so I don’t have to process what I say next. “I’ve always imagined living a solitary life. I have no plans to leave Tobermory. If I can just live here peacefully, do some soul-searching, work at odd jobs, I’d be a happy girl.”
“And what if one of these divers takes an interest in you?” he says softly. I swear that somehow he is now sitting closer to me. His voice seems to resonate sweetly just inside my ear.
“Like I said, I have no plans to leave Tobermory.” I feel myself pulling slightly away from him, a little uncomfortable with where he is going with these questions. I manage somehow to look him in his face and see it has taken on an air of confusion.
“So you’d rather stay here than take a chance and possibly find the love of your life?” A silence grows between us as he looks up at the sky. He almost seems upset. “And how can you know he wouldn’t move here? If he loved you I bet he would,” he says confidently. I’m taken aback by the conviction in his voice. It occurs to me that he must be in love and if he isn’t now, then he definitely has been.
“Uh, you make a good point…”
“Sorry, now I’m the one being nosy.”
“No, it’s ok. I’ve never been in love. That’s probably a good thing though. I have no idea what I’m missing. Whenever I think of marriage I just picture myself with a fisherman or a ferry captain. Someone who would love the water more than they loved me,” I tell him. “But honestly it seems so distant and unreal. I imagine myself preferring to be alone.” As the words come out of my mouth I realize how ridiculous they would sound to a stranger.
“Jesus, Ellie. That’s not what I see for you at all. I mean, I understand the “no drama” thing but you’re so…so fascinating,” he says and then looks away aware he’s probably said too much. He shifts the bottle between each hand and looks up at the clouds.
Without Fear of Falling Page 5