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44 Gilmore Street

Page 2

by Shani Struthers


  Ellie kept shaking her head whilst recounting, clearly perplexed by the whole dream/snapshot scenario. She wasn’t the only one. So was Ruby.

  “It does sounds interesting,” she conceded, “but we don’t really deal with reincarnation cases, if that’s what this is. We deal with grounded spirits, with the business of moving them to the light.”

  “The light?”

  “It’s what we call home, where your soul goes when you’ve passed.”

  “How do you know we’re supposed to go there?”

  Ruby had been asked this question countless times. “Because sometimes we can see the light too, albeit in the distance, and, when a spirit walks towards it, the cares they’ve accrued during the life they’ve just lived fade. There’s only relief on their faces, and joy. That can’t be wrong can it?”

  Theo joined in. “If you want a more technical explanation, spirit is energy and the bodies we walk around in are merely a receptacle for that energy. The light is the source of all universal energy, it’s all-powerful, we come from it and we go back to it. In simple terms, we’re spirits on a human journey, we have the freedom to make decisions, to explore, to follow certain paths and to find out what holds value and what doesn’t. It’s a learning process. And when that journey comes to an end, we continue onwards.”

  “Except some spirits don’t get that?” enquired Ellie.

  “A lot of spirits don’t get that.”

  “Cash!” Ruby admonished.

  “Well, they don’t. That’s why you’re so busy!”

  Ruby shot him a warning look. Some things needed much more careful explanation than he was sometimes prepared to give. “Spirits can remain grounded that’s true. A fear of the unknown is a very human fear and it can easily become ingrained. Our line of work involves communicating with the spirit to show that there isn’t anything to be afraid of, certainly not the fire and brimstone of ancient teaching. In the light, love and understanding await.”

  “Even for serial killers?”

  “Even for them. But I don’t think they get away with it, that’s not what I mean. I’m certain there’s rehabilitation on the other side. A spirit needs to know what harm he or she has caused. They need to realise the consequences of their actions, feel what emotions they’ve invoked in others, whether that be terror, despair or horror, and experience it too, every last bit of it in order to understand, to feel remorse and to evolve.”

  Theo nodded in agreement. “It’s a case of learn from the past, then let it go. In the spirit world, dear girl, the only way is up.”

  Ellie had finished her coffee and was sitting back in her chair.

  “Sorry,” apologised Ruby. “What we’re saying, it’s complicated.”

  “I’ve got the gist of it. It’s what you’re not saying that concerns me.”

  “What we’re not saying?” Ruby was confused, what did she mean?

  Ellie leaned forward, looking earnest. “You’re talking as if we never come back. That when we die, that’s it, we move to another dimension.”

  “If fear doesn’t ground us,” Cash pointed out.

  “If fear doesn’t ground us,” Ellie echoed. “But I don’t agree. Ever since this happened, I’ve been finding out all about reincarnation. I never realised there were so many books on it, a load on the ‘net too. There are countless people who swear they’ve lived before, case after case that’s been documented. Yeah, I get it, we die, we go somewhere for a while, a resting place maybe, but a lot of us come back and it’s here we come back to.”

  As it seemed everyone was waiting for her to speak, Ruby did. “We’re not in the business of dealing with reincarnation, Ellie,” she reiterated. “I really think you’d be better off contacting someone who specialises in that field.”

  “Can you recommend anyone?”

  “Erm… no, I can’t. Theo, what about you?”

  Theo shook her head. “But our colleague Ness might know someone, we can ask her. And if she does, you can trust her word, she doesn’t suffer fools gladly. There are a lot of charlatans out there, people you want to avoid.”

  And didn’t they know it – they’d even been called charlatans themselves on occasion. Thank goodness it was only on occasion though. In their line of business, customer satisfaction was everything.

  Despite an offer to find relevant contacts, Ellie seemed dissatisfied.

  “I haven’t told you what my friend said to me. Aren’t you interested?”

  Theo’s voice was wary. “Does this friend have psychic abilities?”

  “It looks like it. And when I say friend, I mean friend of a friend. I don’t really know her. It happened we were all out for a drink one evening, that’s when I was told what she could do. By taking hold of your hand, this woman, Katharine, can tune into your past life. She gets images in her mind; sometimes they’re strong, sometimes not. With me they were strong.”

  How convenient.

  Theo cottoned on to her cynicism – the look on her face told Ruby she needed to be more open-minded. The irony of which was not lost on her.

  “So what images did she see?” Ruby asked, bowing to Theo’s wishes.

  “She saw the sink with the dishes in it, the one I’ve been seeing in dreams afterwards. She heard music too, playing in the background. She said the music comforted me. She couldn’t quite get a handle on the exact song but she thought it was something old, Elvis perhaps or The Beatles.”

  “That dates it then doesn’t it?” said Cash. “To the fifties or sixties.”

  Theo shrugged her shoulders. “Not necessarily, Cash. People still listen to Elvis and The Beatles nowadays, plenty of people. Your mother for one.”

  “True,” Cash agreed.

  “If we’re trying to date this past life, perhaps clothes might give us more of an insight,” Theo suggested kindly. “Could she see what you were wearing?”

  Ellie leaned her head to one side. She was pretty, Ruby realised – surprised it had taken her this long to notice. “She did mention clothes, but they were plain, nothing out of the ordinary, a blouse and a skirt.”

  “No beehive hair or platform shoes?” suggested Cash.

  Ellie smiled shyly at him. “No.”

  “More’s the pity,” Theo commented.

  “It’s what I was feeling she was most concerned with, Katharine I mean. She said I was really upset, but not only that, frightened and angry too, very angry. She said I felt crushed by my emotions.”

  “Did she have any idea why you felt that way?”

  “No, sorry… it’s Theo isn’t it? I like your pink hair by the way, it’s cool.” Theo smiled her thanks – her choice of hair colour was certainly more interesting than the grey it should be. “No, she didn’t. She dropped my hand after that, tried to make light of it, said whatever had happened it was over and not to worry, to be glad that it was. And to be honest I didn’t worry about it. I thought what she’d said was interesting but nothing more than that. I got on with my night out, made the most of it. But then the dreams started, the snapshots and… well, you know the rest.”

  Despite the further information, Ruby stood firm. She explained once again to the stranger who’d come calling that hers was a ‘problem’ she was best off taking elsewhere. Whilst she did, she refused to look at Theo or Cash. She didn’t like turning away those who asked for help any more than they did but the girl didn’t look distressed, merely curious – until now. Now a shadow darkened her face.

  “Your reputation’s good, really good. Please help me.”

  Ruby was curious. “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve seen your website.”

  “The testimonials you mean?”

  Ellie nodded.

  Cash had designed their website as modern, fresh and welcoming, emphasising the normal in paranormal. Clients were usually happy to be quoted as long as only their first name and town appeared. ‘Psychic Surveys have made such a difference to our lives, my daughter can sleep in her room again, which means
we all sleep!’ and ‘I was suffering from constant headaches in my new house, depression too. After Psychic Surveys performed a spiritual cleansing I feel much better’ were typical of the comments included. Despite their website, however, and their high street presence, the usual route people came to them was via private referral.

  “Do you know anybody we’ve had dealings with?” Ruby asked.

  “No, I don’t.”

  So you believe everything you read. She thought it but didn’t say it. It was just lucky that in this case what she’d read was true. Still, it indicated gullibility on Ellie’s part and strengthened Ruby’s resolve.

  “We can’t help you.”

  Not just troubled, Ellie was shell-shocked by her blatant refusal.

  “But… those feelings, the despair, the horror, the fear, it’s like they’re getting stronger with each flashback, they’re beginning to frighten me too.”

  “As I said, someone who specialises in—”

  “You’re a specialist!”

  “I am but not in regression.”

  Ellie started gnawing at her lip.

  “It’s just… I think something happened to me, something awful.”

  Still Ruby tried to reason with her. “If so, it was in a past life. You’re not in any danger now.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. I don’t know why, but I’m really uneasy. Whatever happened, whoever did it, they weren’t brought to justice.”

  Ruby couldn’t believe it. “How can you possibly know that?”

  Ellie floundered but to her credit not for long. “Call it instinct. Something that you obviously draw on too.”

  “Ellie—” But before Ruby could continue Theo held up a hand, all trace of amusement on her face was gone.

  “Ruby, perhaps we ought to have a discussion about this case in private. Granted, it’s unusual but we’ve never shied away from the unusual.”

  “Theo, we haven’t got time to get side tracked, to deal with… with…”

  “An unsolved crime?” Cash offered.

  Damn it, he was right – an unsolved crime, if indeed that’s what this was and not simply delusion brought about by the power of suggestion. There was every chance Ellie was a highly imaginative girl, that a seed had been planted in her head and from it an entire lifetime had grown.

  Deciding she’d had enough for one morning, Ruby sat up straight and did her utmost to adopt an air of authority – a ‘glamour’ as Theo called it – an old psychic trick that made you look more formidable than you perhaps felt. “If we’re talking about an unsolved crime you’d be better off seeking help from the police as well as a past life regressionist. We deal with ‘hauntings’ for want of a better word, domestic—”

  “Spiritual clearance. Yeah I know. Which is exactly why I’ve come to you.”

  If the girl interrupted her again, she’d scream. More so because Theo and Cash seemed annoyingly impressed by how determined Ellie was.

  “Look—”

  “No, you look,” said Ellie, and, for someone whose exterior was timorous, the fire in her voice was startling, “I don’t want to appear rude, I swear I don’t, but if it’s hauntings you deal with, then I do qualify for help.”

  “I still don’t understand why.”

  “Because in answer to your original question, yes, I am being haunted.”

  “By who?”

  “By me,” Ellie answered. “I’m being haunted by myself.”

  Chapter Two

  Get the fuck out!

  Hearing Ness groan, Ruby had to suppress a smile – the poor woman looked physically pained and little wonder. How many times had they been told to ‘fuck off’ by the spirits? More than she cared to remember.

  The new owner of 44 Gilmore Street, a terraced house near Brighton Station, originally built for rail workers, Ruby guessed, had first called her on the phone to detail what she described as a ‘negative presence’ in her home.

  “I’ve been watching Afterlife on catch-up, you know that TV series about that psychic woman, that’s what gave me the idea to call you. It’s also got that man in it from The Walking Dead. Ooh, I love him, what’s his name?”

  Thankfully Ruby hadn’t had to rack her brain as to his identity as the woman – Samantha Gordon – suddenly remembered.

  “Andrew Lincoln, that’s it! Oh, God, he’s gorgeous.”

  Although Ruby agreed, she nonetheless brought the conversation back round to business, it was the middle of the day, she had other things to do.

  “A negative presence you say?”

  “What? Oh yeah, yeah, seriously, it gets really spooky in here at times, and I keep thinking I keep seeing him, out of the corner of my eye. It feels like he’s glaring at me, you know? My daughter, she keeps feeling really uneasy as if someone’s glaring at her too. It’s like he’s always there, in the shadows.”

  “How do you know it’s a ‘he’?”

  “It’s the bloke who used to live here before I reckon, an old bloke. The place was a right mess when we brought it, you should have seen it. Hadn’t been decorated since the beginning of time I’ll bet. That’s why we got it cheap at auction. Not that anything ever is cheap in Brighton. The cost of property and the cost of parking… they’ll be charging us for breathing fresh air next. My husband, he’s always saying it.”

  “Mrs Gordon,” said Ruby, again trying to focus their conversation, “would you like Psychic Surveys to carry out an initial survey of your house?”

  “Oh, yes please, well that’s why I’m ringing isn’t it?”

  Ruby was beginning to wonder.

  “You’ve seen our website, you’re aware of our charges?”

  “I have and I am,” Samantha confirmed. “I’m very open to these things, you know, the spirit world and all that. I’ve told you I watch Afterlife and I truly believe that that poor woman goes through hell because of what she can see.” There was a slight pause. “Is it hard for you too?”

  Ruby paused. Ah, the tales I could tell… But this was not the time.

  “It’s what you make of it, Mrs Gordon, you can choose to find it hard or you can channel your gift towards something useful. I prefer the latter, helping the grounded to move on, which in turn helps the living. It’s far more constructive. Now, I could fit you in this coming Tuesday if you’d like, 10 a.m.?”

  “That’d be perfect,” Mrs Gordon replied happily enough.

  And now it was Tuesday. It was well past 10 a.m. and the spirit – certainly that of a man as Samantha had guessed – was swearing at them, the venom in his voice all too obvious. Thankfully, Samantha wasn’t here. After an hour of nothing happening she’d seemingly got bored and excused herself to go and meet a friend for coffee at Divalls Diner, just around the corner.

  “I won’t be gone long,” she’d said, “but it’ll give you a chance to, you know, crack on with things. Call me if anything happens, you’ve got my mobile.”

  The first hour had been fairly quiet, little wonder Samantha had got bored. Ruby had called Ness in to help her on this occasion. Usually, when carrying out an initial survey she went alone or took one other member of the team with her. They’d make a connection, find out what was grounding the spirit and assure them it was ‘safe’ to move on, thereby encouraging them to leave, to go home. More often, it took a visit or two to persuade them – the part of their soul that held onto its ‘humanness’ could be very territorial. This spirit certainly was. In the second hour, things had kicked off. Big time.

  You slut!

  There he went again. His voice – only audible to the clairvoyant – was low, gravelly, as if in life he’d been a chain smoker. Certainly, as soon as she’d entered the house she could smell cigarette smoke, so could Ness, despite the Gordons being non-smokers. There was nothing necessarily paranormal about that though. If whomever had lived here before had been a heavy smoker, the smell would linger in the atmosphere for a very long time, even if the walls had been given a lick of paint. No longer ‘a right mess’ as
Samantha put it, the house was light and bright with each room a different colour, although all were tastefully neutral in shade – a good choice thought Ruby, as all rooms were tiny and dark shades would enclose them further. Apparently, they’d had to rip out carpets, curtains, everything that wasn’t nailed down basically.

  ‘Mind you,’ Samantha had said, ‘we removed quite a few things that were nailed down too. You know the saying, leave no stone unturned.’ If only they’d left something of him though, something that would enable them to connect further, to get an idea of why he was being so belligerent. Handling objects wasn’t always necessary but sometimes they provided a handy insight into their owner’s life. The practice was called psychometry and in a case such as this, every little helped.

  Ignoring the copious amount of profanities spewing from the spirit, Ruby tuned in again, tried to capture the essence of the man. She knew Ness was doing the same. The information they had was that the previous occupant of 44 Gilmore Street had lived there for over forty-five years, it was only ever him who lived there. He wasn’t married, seemed to have no children, and kept himself to himself. As yet they had no idea what his occupation was but he’d died in his early eighties, alone at home, a heart attack the cause. It had been several days before he’d been ‘discovered’, neighbours noticing that the curtains to his living room remained closed. This wasn’t wholly unusual, but he did open them on occasion. Growing suspicious, the police had been called. The stink that hit them upon entry told them all they needed to know.

  It appeared to Ruby he’d lived a sad life, a lonely one. Or maybe she was doing him a disservice. Maybe he was happy on his own? Some people were. But happiness was not the feeling rolling off him right now, his emotions were black, there was anger, hatred and confusion. Ultimately, however, there was fear – just what was he afraid of?

  “Ben.” That had been his name, Benjamin Hamilton. “We’re not here to antagonise you, we’re here to help. You’ve passed. You’re in the realm of spirit now, no longer connected to your physical body. Perhaps that’s why you’re confused. If your passing was sudden or unexpected—”

 

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