Without Fear of Falling

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Without Fear of Falling Page 7

by Danielle Boonstra


  “Well, Mr. Mara, I do think your estimate is a trifle naïve, but it is no matter. I will mention however, that Mull is known to be haunted…”

  Mr. Mara looked like a child who had been caught stealing a sweet. “Sir, I…”

  “Did you think I would not consider that aspect? Mrs. De vale had told me many a tale,” said Sir Thomas, his mouth in a tight line suppressing a smile.

  Louisa knew her father was teasing the poor gentleman. She was about to interrupt, but thought the better of it. With no small trace of guilt, she enjoyed seeing Mr. Mara needlessly anxious.

  “My dear Mary told me that a strange spell can sometimes be cast upon mortals by fairies. This spell causes them to believe they must leave the island, be it by land, sea or death.” Standing and pulling himself to his full height for dramatic effect he continued, “There is also the headless horseman and not to mention the Bean-nighe. You have heard of it, Mr. Mara?”

  “I uh…a little, sir.”

  He pretended not to hear him. “Bean-nighe, some Scottish spirit or other who, it is said, can be seen washing the clothes of those soon to die.”

  Unable to contain it any longer, Louisa burst out laughing and quickly covered her mouth. “Father please, have pity on poor Mr. Mara.”

  William’s look of confusion only spurred her further. She tried, in vain, to apologize but the words were muffled by her giggles.

  “Yes, my dear!” he laughed and went over to Mr. Mara to clap him on the back. “Sir, I am sorry; I jest! Of course we do not believe in these ghost stories. And with regards to your proposition, I like what I see so far and I especially like the idea of investing in an area so dear to my late wife’s heart.” Her father paused to stroke his chin, pondering something. “I think though, I should like to be in Mull during the construction.”

  Louisa looked up suddenly, her reverie from staring at William now interrupted. “Father, you cannot be serious! Surely there is no call for that. Mr. Mara can communicate all the goings-on via Post. Can you not, sir?” asked Louisa as she turned to him.

  Mr. Mara seemed unsure how to respond, as if trying to decide who held the power of decision, she or her father. At length he replied, “Yes of course I could do that, Miss De vale.” He turned to Sir Thomas, “If however, you feel so passionate about overseeing the construction, sir, I could not deny you the satisfaction. And I hope it goes without saying that your counsel would be most welcome.”

  Seeing her father torn between what he wanted and what she asked of him, she decided to concede. And though he had not mentioned bringing her along for the journey, Louisa knew that he had always wanted her to see her mother’s birthplace.

  Louisa could not help but think that Mr. Mara underestimated her influence, however. She narrowed her eyes at him as she said, “Oh nicely done, sir. You have played that well. Mr. Mara, I hazard to guess that you are quite skilled at games of strategy. Am I wrong?”

  “You are not wrong, madam” said William evenly.

  Her mouth curled up slightly at his remark and Louisa knew he was stifling a grin. She did so enjoy a challenge. Yes, Mr. Mara would most certainly prove to be a worthy adversary.

  Sir Thomas looked back and forth between the two of them. “Then it is settled? Will you not come with me, Louisa? You have never been to Scotland. You must wish to see it?” he asked, hopefully.

  Louisa smiled at her father’s attempt to appease her. He was such a dear man and she could never deign to disappoint him. A voice whispered in the back of her mind: “Go”.

  “Yes father, I believe I would.” She glanced over at Mr. Mara. “Well, sir, when are we to leave?”

  CHAPTER 12

  Declan

  I awake with the kind of headache that is totally unfair considering I only had one glass of wine. My body is punishing me and I deserve it. I wanted her like I have never wanted anyone and I let her leave.

  It’s overwhelming, but I haven’t ever been so completely certain of anything like this: I will want her forever.

  The problem is that I’ve hurt her. It’s not clear to me how I have hurt her; it’s not clear when, but I know that I did. Or maybe a new symptom of my insanity is that I now see the future. Maybe I’m sensing the inevitable epic mistake before I even make it.

  It’s best that she left.

  But I don’t believe that either. There’s more to this; I know there is. Maybe it’s up to me to make a pre-emptive strike on my usual fuck-ups. Perhaps there is still time to fix me. It’s possible I’m not the hopeless case I believe I am.

  She could help…Ellie could show me how to be, what to say. I could remember myself in her laughter and that incredible skin. I swear I could get drunk on her skin. There should be a Twelve-Step program for skin like hers.

  More than this though, she is a light. I want to stand before her brightness and be consumed by her. Let her wash over me until I fade into it and become it.

  Christ, that’s desperate.

  What could I possibly be to Ellie but a burden? I’m too sad, too broken. I can’t let the promise of her be the thing that pulls me through. It’s sketchy, temporary. She is not a lifeline; she is a woman even if the very word could never in a million years encompass her.

  She has already given me so much.

  Too much.

  I take my phone out of my pocket to check the time.

  Shit. I’ve got to meet Dad.

  I pray that I see her today. Even if it’s just glimpsing her golden hair across the bay, I will be a happy man.

  Heaven help me, I will be a happy man.

  Ellie

  Waking at dawn was never a habit of mine, but I am excited. It feels so good to be excited about something again. Pushing aside the previous night, I move forward undaunted. It is as if my life has been on snooze for the past ten years and now I am finally ready to awaken. Before these past few days I had been nowhere, had no desire to learn new things or even meet new people.

  Now I am thirsty for what lies ahead. I am on the cusp of a new life, or at the very least on the brink of looking at my life in an entirely new way.

  My visions have always been something that made me feel separate from other people. Mrs. Dawes understood of course, but I always considered her a surreal being, someone who – by virtue of her understanding - was a freak like me and therefore didn’t count.

  Now though, the visions seemed to be bringing me closer to someone, to Declan. And while it was clear this threatened the serenity I had been trying to cultivate, I was willing to relent…a little…for now.

  The dreams from the night before of Louisa and William leave me longing for more answers and even more than that. I want to see them again, to feel their connection and know it has been reborn in me and in Declan.

  Without a thought for breakfast or even coffee I quickly dress and head downstairs to the front door.

  A soft, loving voice stops me in my tracks.

  “Where are you off to so early, Ellie? I didn’t think your shift at the shop was until this afternoon,” asks my mother. She’s still in her pyjamas, a messy blonde ponytail on top of her head. Her early morning ease reminds me how young she still is.

  “It’s not. I’m going to see Mrs. Dawes,” I tell her quickly, gathering my things. Frances leans against the wall, warming her hands with her mug of coffee. I can tell my brief answer will not satisfy.

  “Mrs. Dawes? Why? Are your visions back?”

  I drop my shoulders, preparing for a conversation I had been wishing to avoid. “They never left, Mom. They’ve gotten worse though. Well, not worse exactly, but much stronger and more vivid.”

  I tie my scarf around my neck and look back at my mother. I know she’s concerned and yet she doesn’t want to pry. I don’t know how I would feel if I was in her shoes, but I know I can’t ignore the look in her eyes.

  I turn fully to face her. “Ever since I met this guy, Declan, the visions are more like movies in my mind’s eye. I can sense how everyone in the picture is
feeling, what they’re saying and who they are. It’s unlike any other vision I’ve had. And he’s there,” I tell her.

  She looks puzzled. “Who’s there? This Declan?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what it all means yet, but I know I’m supposed to help him. Or maybe we’re supposed to help each other.”

  She considers my words. “Have you told him? Does he have visions too?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t told him. As far as I know he doesn’t have visions, but he has told me a few times how familiar I am to him.”

  My mom’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. “Ellie, this is wild. What a mind-blowing gift! This is some pretty far-out shit. Who was this guy in the lifetime you’re seeing? Is it just one lifetime?” Her blue eyes are lit up and her ponytail bobs up and down as she speaks.

  “Since I met him it’s been the same lifetime. We’re in England and I think it’s the late 1700s. He’s a businessman in his late twenties. He’s very guarded and also very handsome. I’m the daughter of a wealthy gentleman. I look a lot like you come to think of it. It appears he and I end up having some sort of relationship, but not much has been shown to me yet. Something major happens though, Mom. That much I can tell. That’s why I’ve got to get to Mrs. Dawes. She’s been doing the regressions. I want to figure out all of these things before Declan goes back to London,” I say opening the door to leave.

  I’m running down the hill, past the inn. The sun is warm in my face and the wind is cold, but I barely notice. I cannot remember a time when I’ve felt more alive. I see now that I have been so afraid. There is a world that has been beckoning to me since I can remember, and I have been doing my damndest to shut it out. I have felt the peace of it, the loving endlessness and yet I have resisted it.

  This physical world, this earth is so full of pain. And the other world, which I have only felt in silence, is so free of it. I have longed for something in the middle, somewhere to hide. I sense that one exists simply to steer me back to the other. There is nowhere to hide.

  Running and floating at the same time, half-afraid and half-delighted, I almost run right into Declan and his father…

  “Whoa! Slow down Ellie? Where are you running to?” asks Declan with a look of shock to see me. Thankfully he doesn’t seem too disappointed.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you guys there! I’m…uh, I’m going to the health food store.”

  Alistair looks mildly amused. “It’s 7:30 in the morning, my dear. I doubt it’s open yet. You are, of course, more than welcome to join us if you wish.”

  Trying to calm my breathing my words are clipped, “Normally, I would love to, but I’m meeting Mrs. Dawes…the owner of the store. It’s important we have enough time…before she has to open.”

  Alistair raises an eyebrow at me. “Mrs. Dawes? I’ve heard a bit about her. She’s some kind of a psychic right? Why are you going there?”

  “Geez, Dad, leave her alone.” He’s embarrassed. There is something about seeing his blushing face that makes me long to have seen him as a child. How precious he must have been.

  “Listen, I’m working at the shop until six. You can meet me there if you want and we could grab a bite,” I say to Declan, holding his eyes hostage with my own. My daring amazes even me, but then I feel like it’s not even me talking.

  Alistair looks surprised at my bluntness, but says nothing. Declan smiles nervously. “Sure. Sounds good,” he says. His hands are in his pockets, his eyes on the ground. I try to pretend not to notice that he cannot seem to face me.

  I remind myself he doesn’t know about our connection and what it all could mean. How could he? I feel as though I can barely fathom it myself.

  Letting myself into The Natural Touch, I begin to feel calmer. There’s almost a sense that I’m following a script and it’s a relief. All I have to do is wake up in the morning and go where I feel pulled to go, say what I feel compelled to say. I’m on the verge of something here…some secret to living maybe?

  I never thought much about it before, but it’s like I’m suddenly aware of the tension I had been carrying because I feel the lightness now.

  “Hi Ellie, how are you, love? Come in; have a seat. My, you look lovely today! You look…happier,” says Mrs. Dawes. She is eating a crisp green apple that matches the colour of her T-shirt. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and motions to the sofa. “So, any more visions since we met last?”

  “Yes I…”

  She closes her eyes and waves her hand. “Don’t tell me, love! I think it’s best that we get right to it. I’m glad you’re making progress though. Remember, it’s your mind. You can direct it as you wish. You are not at anyone’s whim. If you want to know a date, ask that it be shown to you. If you want to see more of your surroundings, just ask. It’s ok to be curious. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I say firmly.

  I lay back and let my mind drift back to the time and place that is most helpful to me right now.

  In the soft background of my awareness I hear her counting down from ten. My thoughts relax, a door opens and I am a new woman, now watching from above, patient and loving, ready to see.

  CHAPTER 13

  Louisa

  Days of fog, rain and mud made for weary travels, but Louisa, her father and two of their servants arrived safe and sound in Oban, Scotland at the Pillar & Post to rest for the night. Mr. Mara had travelled separately as he had business in Manchester, but was to meet them this evening.

  They would all take a boat to Mull in the morning and would arrive in the village by dinner. There was a small inn near the shore that would house everyone during the construction. It was unclear how long their stay in Mull would be. Sir Thomas reckoned it would be six months at least. Louisa had never been away from their London home for so long and never so far, but she felt safe and secure. Truly, she was beginning to feel that she was exactly where she belonged.

  The Pillar & Post was a modest Scottish inn. The décor was minimal, but the fires were well-tended and the rooms comfortable. It was a welcome sojourn after some rather questionable establishments along the way. Louisa was unaccustomed to such rustic accommodations, but then she was unaccustomed to travel of any kind. Sir Thomas preferred to stay in London as their country home in Gloucestershire only reminded him of his wife.

  Louisa was content to stay in town not only for her father’s sake, but for her own. She felt the need to be rooted and stable. All she wanted was to read, to pray and to live quietly. Travelling here and there all the time would be distracting.

  This trip to Mull however, felt different. London was so crowded, loud and yet vapid somehow. If she was honest, it had begun to feel as though it was closing in on her. As much as she had wanted things to stay the same, her intuition was tugging at her to embrace change. Louisa had always been unafraid to be herself, but lately she had felt guided by an inner voice, a voice she believed was Mary, Mother of God. She did not think it was God Himself, but she knew it was of Him.

  Whenever she heard the voice, she closed her eyes and could see a faint outline of a woman, her head bowed in prayer, a halo of light atop her crown. The voice had been offering her wisdom and insight. She hoped to hear it more clearly. Perhaps this was why Mull was coming into her life. Perhaps Mother Mary was guiding her here, preparing her to learn how to better serve.

  William

  Miss De vale, her father and Mr. Mara agreed to meet in the dining hall and go over the plans for their arrival in Mull. The end of the journey was near and each was beginning to feel a renewed energy at the prospect of reaching their final destination.

  William was the first to arrive in the hall. It was a relief to change out of his travelling attire. Only recently had he treated himself to some new clothes. It seemed almost surreal to purchase items from the finer tailors in London. He hardly knew what to buy and required much direction.

  A woman’s opinion would have been most welcome.

  The truth of the matter was that he rarely met women
who were not barmaids or servants. Of course he would visit a brothel every now and then, but conversation was rarely had or desired. Many of his business associates had daughters, but it seemed to be the prevailing opinion amongst them that he was far too young to consider settling down.

  William took a table and waited for the rest of his party. He spotted Louisa coming down the stairs and entering the room. Trying to push away the flutter in his chest, he waved to her discreetly. She saw him and smiled immediately and as William rose to greet her, she settled herself directly across from him.

  “Good evening, Miss De vale,” he said attempting to keep his gaze at her face. She wore a simple, light blue dress that flowed and swayed effortlessly. She was effortless. “It is a pleasure to see you again. May I inquire about your journey? I know the weather has been uncooperative. I hope you have not been overly put out.”

  “You are indeed kind to inquire, Mr. Mara. I will admit that I have been chilled often, but I know it is my own fault for not bringing proper gloves. And I hope I am not being too open in telling you that my bottom has been quite sore from all the bumps in the road. I have to laugh at myself. It is an adventure though is it not?” she said giggling. “But I see I have shocked you with my frankness. I do apologize, sir. I suppose I feel as though we are friends already.”

  William looked down at his lap and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Was she in earnest or was she teasing him? It annoyed him that she had the power to unnerve him so. “I am sure that is a compliment, madam,” he replied calmly.

  She laughed at him, “I am not altogether sure that it is! Would you choose to be friends with the likes of me…someone who says every little silly thing in her head?”

  “I would be honoured I am sure.”

  She smiled widely at his diplomacy. “Yes well, Mr. Mara I can honestly tell you I am finding this trip thrilling. Indeed sir, comfort or not I am grateful to be here. A lady such as myself is rarely treated with this kind of excitement!”

 

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