Making Sense: Sensual Healing, Book 2

by Serenity Woods

  Freya smiled. “Their dog. He died a long time ago.”

  “And I’m guessing Rangi is another dog? An Alsatian, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Yes, spot on.”

  “I’m seeing the South Island—Kaikoura, I think it is—I can see the mountains in the background. Was that place important to her?”

  Freya nodded. “Yes, that’s where her mother was from.”

  He thought again. Then he laughed. “She’s showing me Sherbet Lemons. Did she used to like those?”

  “Oh my God!” Freya’s eyes nearly fell out of her head. Up until then, although she’d been impressed with some of the things Ash had told her, she was aware many of them were details he could have found out from the Records Office, or by researching her family on the internet. But this was such a personal detail, there was no way he could have found out about it. “Yes, she loved them. She used to go through them by the bagful.”

  He took a breath, let it out again. “Okay.” It seemed to Freya that he felt he’d verified her grandmother’s presence enough, and now he could get onto the real reason for her coming through. “She wants to talk about Harry. Is that your father?”

  Her heart in her mouth, Freya nodded. She desperately wanted to know what her grandmother had to say about her father, but part of her also didn’t want to know. Aware it might not be pleasant, Freya forced herself to be aware of her clenched fists and stiff back, and tried to relax again in the chair.

  Ash sat forward, elbows on knees, looking at the floor as he listened, nodding occasionally. Grace had told Freya before that he asked the spirits questions in his head and listened to their replies or watched the images they gave him, and it was odd now to see him having a silent conversation with her dead grandmother.

  He looked up at her then, and Freya was surprised—and touched—to see pity in his eyes. “She’s telling me what a difficult time you’ve had because of your father’s addiction.”

  Freya nodded. She wondered how much Grace had told him about Harry’s gambling.

  “She’s showing me the horses, and the dogs, and…well…pretty much anything goes where he’s concerned, I think.”

  “Yes.”

  He listened for a moment. “She’s showing me a time when you were younger—you look, maybe, seven or eight, and you had a family holiday booked. She’s showing me the Sydney Opera House. But he spent the money.”

  Freya blinked, staring at him. “Yes. That’s exactly what happened—and it was Sydney we were supposed to go to.”

  “And there was another time—you were a bit older. It was Christmas. He’d been doing quite well, and you’d had new clothes and things were more comfortable at home. You’d asked for something for Christmas…” He closed his eyes for a moment. Shook his head. “I can’t get it. It looks like…” Shook his head again. Then, finally, he laughed. “Oh, I see it now. I thought she was showing me the dishes, but it’s not, they’re test tubes. It was a chemistry set.”

  Icy fingers ran down Freya’s spine. “Yes.”

  His smile faded. “You’d picked out a huge set. You were thinking about being a pharmacist, I think. And he went and spent all the present money.”

  Her throat tightened. “Yes.”

  He listened for a bit before glancing up at her. “Your grandmother’s angry about that.”

  “She was livid at the time.”

  “She still is. I mean now she’s crossed over she realises Harry can’t help it, that it’s an addiction like alcoholism and he can’t help himself, but she’s still mad.” He thought for a moment and then gave Freya a sad smile. “She’s angry because he hurt you. She’s incredibly fond of you, Freya. I think you were her favourite.”

  Freya’s breath caught in her throat, and for a moment she couldn’t swallow as her feelings overwhelmed her. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over before she could stop them, and she pressed her fingers to her mouth, embarrassed.

  Ash took a couple of tissues out of the box on the table and handed them to her, completely unembarrassed by her display of emotion. “She’s saying you’ve had a lot to cope with,” he continued as if she’d done nothing more than sneeze. “She’s so proud of you. She’s showing you holding certificates—I think she’s talking about you getting your nurse’s degree.”

  Freya nodded as she wiped her eyes. “She died just before I got it. I always wished she was there to see it.”

  “She was.” He smiled. “And she wasn’t the only one. She’s bringing through someone else now. It’s another female, older than you again, but to the side—I’m thinking an aunt or a cousin, on your mother’s side this time. She’s showing me Vanessa Redgrave, and the number forty-six.” He was speaking quickly now. “I think she died of some problem here.” He indicated his lower stomach. “I’m seeing black there, which usually means cancer. She’s tall and slim, and she’s saying ‘Same hair, same hair’, so I think maybe she was blonde, like you? Does this mean anything to you?”

  Freya laughed. “You’re spot on with everything. Vanessa was my mum’s sister, and she died from bowel cancer. I’m not sure about the number forty-six—that would have been around her age when she died. And yes, we had the same hair colour. Everyone used to remark on it, because my mum’s dark.”

  He nodded. “What’s the connection with Napier? I’m seeing the Art Deco buildings.”

  “She lived there.”

  “Who’s Robert? No, sorry, Robin?”

  “Her husband—my uncle.”

  “Who’s Max?”

  “Her son.”

  “And Emma? Emily?”

  “Emily, her daughter.”

  He listened for a moment. “She’s showing me the actor Elijah Wood. Any ideas?”

  “No. We’re not related or anything. As far as I know.”

  “Hmm. He’s dressed as Frodo, from The Lord of the Rings.”

  Suddenly it came to her. “Oh! She took me to see The Two Towers at the cinema with Robin. I went and stayed with her when I was fifteen, and the film had just come out.”

  “Okay. I’m getting it was more than that, though. When you stayed with her, was it a normal holiday, or a special visit?”

  Freya studied Ash and then looked at her hands. “I suppose you could call it a special visit. I was having a tough time at home. Mum and Dad were going through a bad patch, and Mum sent us three girls away for a while so they could sort things out. My sisters hated being away, but I loved it.”

  “And it made you feel guilty.”

  She looked up, wondering why Ash continued to surprise her when she knew how insightful he was. “Yes.”

  He nodded. His gaze dipped to the carpet for about ten seconds and then rose back up to survey Freya again. “She’s showing you separate from the rest of your family. Different, apart.” He paused again. “She says you’ve been lonely.”

  Freya looked at her feet, unable to bear the incredible compassion in Ash’s eyes. “Yes.”

  “That’s going to come to an end, Freya.”

  She looked back up then. “Oh?”

  His blue eyes were steady, warm. “Yes. She wants to make that clear. It’s not going to be easy, though.”

  “Life rarely is, in my experience.”

  “It’s going to get harder before it gets easier.” He brought his hands together and then parted them. “She’s showing you at a fork in the road. Which path you take now is your decision. Down this one—” he lifted his right hand, “—things carry on as they always have. It’s the path of captivity. The left is the path of freedom.”

  “What should I do?”

  He considered the question. “The decision is yours, as always. But if you continue to feed Harry’s habit, you’re not going to get the freedom you really want.”

  She bit her lip. “I know.”

  “You have to be strong, Freya.”

  “It’s easier than it sounds.”

  “Yeah, I know. But if you want to achieve your dreams, you’re going to have to be har
d. It’s not pleasant, but it’s the old adage, you know, ‘Spare the rod, spoil the child’.”

  “Except that it’s not my child, it’s my dad.”

  “Yeah. That sucks.”

  She looked at her hands. “You’re right, I know. But…I worry about my mum.”

  Ash tipped his head. “She made her choice, just as you must make yours. She didn’t have to marry your father, and she didn’t have to stay with him. She loves him, Freya, in spite of everything.”

  He frowned and studied her for a moment. “I think…” He thought again, and she could see him having a conversation in his head again. “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  “Your aunt told me something. I asked her whether I should tell you, and she says I should.”

  Freya swallowed, but squared her chin. “Tell me.”

  He gave her a sympathetic look. “Your parents’ relationship…it gets physical sometimes.”

  She bit her lip again. “Yeah, I thought it might.”

  “Your aunt is telling me it’s not all one sided. Your mother gives as good as she gets, you know.”

  “I guess that’s something,” Freya said bitterly.

  He sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s all right.”

  “It’s not,” he said. “And it’s okay to be angry about it.”

  Tears welled up in her eyes again. She put her face in her hands for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Don’t be. You’ve had a tough time, and you’ve put up with more than many people would have done.”

  She looked up at him, her face wet. “I’m weak, Ash. I know I shouldn’t give in to him, but I can’t help it. I don’t know how to get out of it.”

  He nodded. “Your aunt’s telling me that you’re strong. That you have the strength to do it. She’s telling me it will be worth it.”

  Freya shook her head. She couldn’t see how she would ever be strong enough to throw off the burden of her parents.

  Ash tipped his head. “She’s showing me children.”

  “Whose children?”

  “Yours, should you choose to have them.”

  She stared at him. “Oh.”

  “There’s a girl, with blonde hair, very like yours. She’s bright, a bit bossy. She loves animals and looking after them—I think she may turn out to be a vet or something.”

  “Oh,” Freya said again. A little girl?

  “And there’s a boy. He’s got dark hair, quite curly. He’s a little imp, very mischievous, clever too, very good with his hands, with making things, you know? And I think there may be a third, but that’s a few years away.” He focussed on her again and smiled.

  Freya was gobsmacked. “I’m definitely going to have kids?”

  Ash leaned back in his chair and sighed. “The future isn’t set in stone. There are a million possibilities, thousands of roads to travel. Our relatives, the ones who watch over us, try to offer us their help and guidance, and they put opportunities our way. Give us a little push sometimes to make us take notice. But ultimately, the choice is ours. I’ve known people who’ve had potentially glowing futures presented to them, but who also have a self-destruct button in their personality. For example, a woman may come to me who’s worried that her husband’s having an affair. I may tell her that he isn’t, and that I can see the possibility of a happy future for her, but if she then goes home to her husband and every time he walks out of the house, she’s demanding to know where he’s going… Well, that relationship isn’t going to have a happy ending, you see? The possibility’s there, but the decision of whether to make it happen is ultimately yours.”

  Freya nodded. “I see. But…you can see children for me, and…marriage?”

  He smiled. “Yes. There’s marriage and a happy ever after for you.”

  This was awkward. How did she ask him without asking? “Is it…”

  His eyes were warm. “Mm?”

  She blushed. “You know what I’m asking.”

  He laughed then. “Sorry. I’m teasing you. He’s all around you, Freya.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When two people are involved, their energy remains in the other person’s aura even when you part. Like how smoke clings to you when you leave a bar.”

  “We’re not involved,” she said, breathless.

  He raised an eyebrow. “I think we both know that’s not true.”

  “It’s…it’s only sex, Ash.”

  “Yeah,” he said, “that’s what Grace and I said. And look what happened to us.”

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know what to think. I like him—obviously I do. But I’ve got to sort out this thing with my father, and then I really wanted to travel, maybe work abroad.”

  “That’s still a possibility.”

  “And Nate… Well, you know Nate. He’s scared. He doesn’t want a relationship.”

  Ash sat forward again then, elbows on his knees, linking his hands. He studied them for a moment before looking up at her. “Your aunt is saying again, ‘It won’t be easy.’ If you want him, Freya, you’re going to have to fight for him. He is screwed up, there’s no doubt about it. I think he’s told you the majority of what happened to him in the past.”

  “Yes. Most of it. I’m sure there’s something he’s holding back.”

  He didn’t look surprised and nodded. “Maybe. I’m sure he’ll tell you, in time.”

  “But you know what it is.”

  He gave her a steady look. “Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

  “No.” She looked down, ashamed. “Sorry.”

  “Freya, look. As I said, I can’t sit here and tell you your future. I can’t predict what Nate is going to do, what he’s going to say or feel. If he’ll ever be able to come to terms with his past. I can only tell you possibilities. But he feels very strongly for you.”

  Her heart swelled. “Really?”

  He smiled. “Really. If he’s going to make it with anyone, it’s going to be you. I’ve not seen him like this with anyone else before.”

  “Oh.” She bit her lip.

  “There’s a brighter future out there for you, Freya. Adventure and love, marriage, children. Freedom. Everything you’ve wanted. But it doesn’t come cheap. You’ve had it hard up until now, and it’s only going to get harder. Only you can know how much you want this, and what you’re prepared to do to get it.”

  “I understand.” Her head was whirling. “I don’t know…I’m not sure how strong I am.”

  He considered the question, and then grinned. “Your aunt is showing me the Incredible Hulk.”

  Freya laughed even as she wiped away tears. “That figures. She loved Edward Norton.”

  He smiled. “They’re with you, Freya. Celebrating the good times. And they’ll be with you when times are hard. Ask for their help and their support, and they’ll give it. Ask them for guidance, and they’ll give it. You have to watch out for the signs. Some people call it gut instinct, some intuition, but often it’s our friends and relatives trying to show us the way. Let them help you, and you won’t go far wrong.”

  Freya reached out and took his hand. “Thank you, Ash. I really appreciate it.”

  He squeezed her fingers before releasing them. “He’s crazy about you, honey. Just crazy. He thinks about you all the time. You’re exactly what he needs. You’ve just got to be patient. He knows you’re the one, and he’ll get there, if you’re prepared to wait.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  It was raining, which made Nate think about the thunderstorm two weeks before and Freya in her white nurse’s uniform.

  Not even that image could bring a smile to his lips, however, which showed how bad things were.

  He hovered in the foyer of Te Papa—The Museum of New Zealand in the heart of Wellington, overlooking Lambton Harbour. His stomach was tight and knotted, and he felt sick. It took all his self-control not to turn and walk straight out. But he’d promised Ash he’d do this. And deep down, he knew he had
to start facing up to his past. He wasn’t going to be able to move forward until he did.

  Moving forward made him think of Freya again, and this time he did smile, if a little wryly. He leaned against a pillar and rested his head on the cool concrete. His feelings for her were rainbow bright compared to the murky emotions everything in his past invoked, but she was caught in the tangled web of his thoughts and feelings, and he had to keep her separate. And the only way to do that was to try to rid himself of the burden of the past.

  He saw Aidan through the glass doors as soon as he walked along the pathway to the museum. He looked no different, in spite of the three years that had passed, his dark hair long and curly, wearing the same old black jeans and scruffy T-shirt. Aidan pushed through the doors and walked into the foyer, then stood and looked around. Nate hesitated. Old, familiar feelings of rage and hurt reared up inside him. He twitched, desperate to turn and walk away.

  But then he thought of Freya. She was part of his present, not his tarnished, disastrous past. To claim her completely, he was going to have to cleanse himself of that past. He wanted her. And that gave him strength to go through with it.

  He walked forward, across the huge tiled foyer, toward his brother. Aidan turned and saw him, and his eyes widened.

  “You came,” Aidan said as Nate stopped in front of him.

  Nate studied him, relaxing his gaze, unable to resist the temptation to study his brother’s aura. It swirled with dark colours, purples and reds. Aidan was nervous, and for some reason that made him feel better. “Yeah, I’m here. Want to grab a coffee?” Unable to keep the stiffness out of his voice, he gestured to the in-house café, and Aidan nodded. Silently they walked over and ordered a couple of lattes, carrying them to a table in the corner.

  They took seats on opposite sides of the table. Nate leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee, determined not to show Aidan how petrified this meeting had made him. Aidan leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Nate, his coffee forgotten.

  “How have you been?” Aidan asked.

  “Fine,” said Nate. He wasn’t about to tell his brother what a broken mess he’d been. Well, still was.

  “So, Wellington eh?” Aidan glanced around the café. “Do you like it here?”