by Julie Howlin
I stared at him. Somehow it had not occurred to me that he might have been noticing the woodland sights and sounds as well. ‘Yes,’ I agreed, as I got out of the car.
‘We should do it again sometime. Without the ghosts,’ he said with a smile, waved and drove off. I hoped he hadn’t seen my cheeks go red.
20 tabitha and jonathan
To my annoyance, and totally against my will, I found I was attracted to Jamie Swan. One day at work, I was lost in a reverie in which I met him by chance in the street and he asked me out. We spent an evening talking and as we walked home, he slipped his hand into mine as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do.
‘Five rings, Tabitha! Five rings! Come on, stop staring into space and answer the phone! We don’t pay you to daydream, you know!’ Robert flounced out of his office and tapped the ringing telephone with his gold ballpoint pen.
I picked up the receiver and turned away, letting my hair fall forward to hide my red face. I knew things were getting out of hand - for the past few days, I had not been able to get Jamie Swan out of my mind. It had to stop.
I could never compete with the woman I’d seen him with in the King’s Arms. Even though all the time we’d been walking and driving around the forest, he had not mentioned her, it had been quite clear that they were very much together. I had to do something to stop myself getting completely besotted with someone who was hopelessly out of my reach.
By this time, I was beginning to feel much more at home in the psychic development group than I had when Gran first sent me there. Being pushed out of my comfort zone and trying new things was starting to pay off. I'd hated going to the gym at first, when Jess had dragged me along, telling me I needed to get fit, but after a while I'd begun to feel physically fitter. This was the same – exercise for my spirit.
Megan and I were becoming firm friends, and I was beginning to warm to the others, too. Lorna, when you got past her shyness, had a beautiful personality and a wicked sense of humour. Cynthia was kind and generous and hinted at a wild past before marriage to the stuffy old major and running a household had tamed her. Edward still said very little, but he had started to acknowledge me with a nod when I arrived.
Although I had dreaded the thought of working closely with Jonathan, I couldn't avoid doing so forever in such a small group. At the next session after the events at Epping Forest, Jonathan had announced to the group, ‘I notice that when we do exercises in pairs, we have been working in the same pairs. Today, I have decided to mix things up a little. Megan, I would like you to work with Lorna, Cynthia with Edward and Tabitha with me.’ My heart sank a little, especially as our task that evening was to share with our partners the emotional blocks we felt were hindering our connection with spirit.
I was hesitant at first, but as I began to talk about my feelings about not having a connection with Gran, Jonathan proved to be an excellent listener. He seemed to understand completely how I felt. He spoke for the first time about how he’d felt after his mother died and how, to this day, he had never sensed her presence even though several group members, past and present, often did. ‘That really hurts,’ he said.
‘I know,’ I said. Our eyes met and for a moment, time stood still.
I began to see past the straight-laced group leader to the vulnerable person behind the mask. By the end of the session, I had warmed to him considerably. It started to occur to me that he ticked all the boxes on my list. He had hair - dark and wavy. He was thirty-nine, single, no kids. He worked as an accountant – a good, steady job which my mother would approve of, had a decent car (a BMW) and a house. He was as accepting as anyone was ever likely to be about my psychic talents. Had the universe removed Daniel from my life so that I would be free to be with someone who was able to nurture my gifts?
Jonathan had his faults. He always seemed so serious, but then, he was the group leader – he had to be. If I got to know him in a different context, the lighter side of him would surely soon show. He also had a habit of blinking rapidly which I found a little irritating. Nobody was perfect, though. Not even Daniel. He used to fart loudly in bed. Blinking was much less annoying than that.
It was the most natural thing in the world to move on to talking about how my relationship had ended, in part at least, because of my gift. ‘He said he didn't want a girlfriend who spoke to dead people.’
‘He's a fool,’ Jonathan said. ‘Any man would be lucky to have you.’
I blushed. ‘You think so?’
‘Yes, I do. I'm glad we had the chance to talk like this. I feel I'm finally getting to know you.’
‘Me, too,’ I said.
He looked down at his hands and then back at me. He blinked three times and said, ‘Would you mind if I call you sometime?’
‘That would be nice,’ I said, and meant it.
**
The very next day, he called me and invited me out for dinner.
He called for me, with flowers, and took me to an expensive restaurant. He was attentive, polite - opened doors for me; as we walked back down the street to his car, he made sure he was walking on the outside the way I remember Granddad Drake used to when I was very small and it had made me feel like a grown up lady. We talked and talked about our lives - what it’s like to see and hear things others can’t. He wanted to know all about the police work and Jamie Swan. I felt I had found a kindred spirit at last, and I didn’t notice him blinking after the first half hour.
The contrast from Daniel was immense. Jonathan phoned me every day. I was never left wondering when I would see him again. No fireworks went off, I had to admit, and there were some nagging doubts, but I pushed them to the back of my mind, telling myself I would be stupid to pass up the chance of someone so considerate and attentive after so many duds. It was a classic on-the-rebound relationship, born of desperation not to end up alone. I remembered the saying: that happiness lay in wanting what you can have, not pining after something you can't. I convinced myself that Jonathan was what I wanted.
When it came to lovemaking, I confess that I found myself comparing Jonathan with Daniel a little unfavourably. I told myself that Jonathan was simply not as experienced, and things would get better. What he lacked in technique, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm. The first time, he ended up crying in my arms and telling me he’d love me forever, which seemed a little premature, but I was pretty flattered. Sex isn’t everything. Love is what you want. Commitment. And I thought I had found it. The rest would come. Wouldn't it?
It felt a bit weird taking a guy home to meet my family. It was meant to be just Mum and Dad and Amber but Caroline must have got wind of it as she showed up with David. She was the first to voice an opinion as soon as Jonathan went to use the bathroom.
‘A bit old, isn’t he?’ she remarked, a little too loudly. I glanced anxiously at the door. ‘Oh, it’s all right, he can’t hear you up there. He’s a bit old and how long have you been going out?’
‘Two weeks.’
‘He’s a bit keen to say it’s only been two weeks.’
‘Well, I’ve actually known him for longer than that... hang on. Daniel was never good enough because he wouldn’t commit and didn’t phone me often enough. Now I get someone who wants to be with me all the time and you don’t like that, either!’
‘There’s a happy medium, love,’ said Dad, rubbing his nose. ‘Of course we want you to be with someone who loves you to bits, but you expect a man to take it a little slowly at first.’
‘That’s right,’ Caroline added. ‘Meeting the parents after two weeks? He looks like the possessive type to me. I mean, I didn’t bring David home until we’d been going out for three months, and then it was only because it was Mum’s birthday.’
Mum flashed a look at Dad when Jonathan stood up after only a couple of hours and said we should be going. I find spending time with my family a bit of a strain, especially when Caroline puts in an appearance, so I secretly felt quite grateful to Jonathan for giving me an excuse not to
spend the whole day with them, but their disapproval was palpable.
The following weekend I took him to meet Jess and Simon. He did not seem at all comfortable with them, or perhaps it was because we met in a bar, and Jonathan didn’t do bars. He never drank and complained that there was always too much noise and immature, imbecilic behaviour by people under the influence of alcohol.
Jonathan had always expressed the opinion that alcohol dulls the psychic sense, and that anyone serious about developing their skills in that direction should never, ever touch a drop of the stuff. ‘It lowers your defences and makes you vulnerable to psychic attack,’ he would tell the group. He told us that earthbound spirits who were addicted to the booze when they were alive lurked around pubs and took possession of unwary drinkers so that they, the dead, could vicariously enjoy one more pint and the experience of being blotto. Which is why when people get really hammered they do things they’d not normally do and can’t remember a thing about it the next morning.
I remembered this after I’d ordered a double Bacardi and Coke and saw the withering look he gave me. Oops.
Not everyone in the group agreed with him. Sometimes I’d go out for a drink with Megan and Lorna after a meeting. We’d joke about the negative entities and earthbound spirits that were sitting at the table with us - but if I was going to be with Jonathan, I’d have to pretend to take it on board, while I was with him, at least.
So when the next round came around, I ordered orange juice and got an odd look from my friends. This wasn’t going to be easy.
When we got back to my flat, Jonathan sat me down and, blinking furiously, said, ‘I don’t like to see you drinking.’
‘Sorry,’ I said.
‘You know what I think about alcohol. I want you to lay off it.’
**
We quickly got into a routine. Jonathan spent a lot of time at my flat, mainly because I didn’t want to neglect my cat. On Tuesdays, I’d stay over after the group meeting and get a reproachful look from Thumbelina when I called in on my way to work on Wednesday to feed her.
I preferred being in my flat. Jonathan’s house was cold and bland. The lack of a feminine touch for many years had made it so; but any attempt I made to brighten it up met with a surprising amount of resistance.
I bought flowers - he told me he had hay-fever and could not have them in the house. They went straight into the bin. I bought some bright new cushion covers to replace the faded old ones - he didn’t like them. He wanted to keep the old ones because they reminded him of his late mother. She'd embroidered them.
I’ve always been a nosey so and so and longed to be left alone there one day so I could snoop in all the cupboards and drawers, and see what I could find - pictures of Jonathan as a child, some insight into the past he rarely spoke about. Any old photos - I love looking at those old sepia pictures of old-fashioned people. I’d have loved to find some evidence that Jonathan had an interest other than his work, psychic stuff, and me. But Jonathan stuck to me like a leech. I never felt comfortable in his house and was secretly glad to have an excuse to be at mine more often. I’d wanted a man with a nice house and more space and Jonathan certainly had that - four bedrooms. But his house didn’t feel like a home, just a place to exist in. Nor did it feel spacious when Jonathan never left my side.
I missed my lifts home with Megan. She seemed to be keeping me at a distance since Jonathan announced, rather solemnly, at a group meeting, that we were an item. The reactions varied widely. Cynthia gushed about how wonderful it was; Lorna stared at us open mouthed; Megan politely said she was happy for us, but I detected an undercurrent - she didn’t approve. She had warned me off him and I had ignored her. Edward said nothing - he still didn’t speak to me.
Before long, the constant togetherness began to feel claustrophobic. I longed for some space. I longed to soak in the bath for an hour and not have someone knocking on the door after ten minutes asking how much longer I was going to be. I wanted an evening painting my toenails, pampering myself and watching trashy TV, but Jonathan was always there. He didn’t do trashy TV any more than he did bars. In fact, he seemed to disapprove of TV altogether, apart from the news and serious documentaries.
On the plus side, the sex got better. He didn’t seem to mind me telling him what I like. I admit I did enjoy some of the documentaries Jonathan liked to watch - I’m fascinated by ancient Egypt and anything unexplained and we had some intense conversations about the psychic world after watching them. Yet I wished I could veg out in front of soap, or a chat show, or have a giggle at a comedy now and again, but he just didn’t do that. Even when we were at my flat, he would get up and turn the TV off when a more light-hearted programme came on. And I do mean get up. He refused to use the remote control.
We’d meditate together, so my spiritual practice became much more of a habit. I began to experience the benefits more than I ever had when I’d tried to go it alone and was likely to give in to the distractions of trashy TV or going out with my friends.
Then Jess’s birthday rolled around. She called me at work and said she wanted to celebrate with just me and Simon. No partners. At last, I thought. I’ll get a night alone. I thought that if I was going out without Jonathan, he’d go home, have an evening to himself. Surely he needed some time alone as much as I did.
I spent the daytime of Saturday, Jess’s birthday, with Jonathan - we went shopping together as I was looking for a present. It was nice having someone with me; someone to save a seat in the crowded coffee shop; someone to talk to. But I couldn’t buy Jess the jokey kind of presents I’d usually buy - chocolate willies and the like, because I knew Jonathan wouldn’t approve. I settled for a vibrant pink pashmina.
He settled himself on my sofa with a book as I got ready to go out - I was pulling everything out of my wardrobe, looking for something to wear, not quite satisfied with any of it and wishing I’d had time to buy a new outfit for myself. In the end, I selected a bottle green top with spaghetti straps and tight black satin trousers. I chose a bright red lipstick and made myself up. When I came out of the bedroom, he looked at me appraisingly, and then, with a hard edge to his voice, and a lot of blinking, said, ‘You’re not going out like that.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘I said, you’re not going out like that. Your clothes are much too revealing and you’re wearing far too much make up. You look like a tramp.’
I was dumbfounded. He sounded just like my dad when I was about fourteen.
‘Jonathan, I’m a grown woman. You can’t tell me what to wear.’
‘Tabitha, I am NOT having you going out showing all that flesh when I am not with you to protect you from other men.’
‘I’m not going on the pull, Jonathan. I’m going out with Jess, a female, and Simon, who is GAY. We’re just going to have a bit of fun, that’s all.’
‘I’m coming with you.’ He put down his book and stood up. He was serious.
‘No, Jonathan. It’s just the three of us tonight. No partners. We all agreed.’
‘I am coming with you if you don’t go and change into something more modest. And wipe off that lipstick while you’re in there.’
I had no choice but to comply if I didn’t want him tagging along, and I most certainly did not. I realised then how much I was looking forward to having some fun and a laugh, and how there seemed to be no place in Jonathan’s life for fun and laughter. I was beginning to fear that the sense of humour I’d hoped to uncover simply wasn’t there. I pulled on a long-sleeved, crimson blouse over the green one, and wiped off the lipstick - but not before dropping the stick in my bag. Let him think I was obeying him - when I got there I’d take the blouse off and re-apply all the slap.
‘That will do,’ he said, after looking me up and down critically. ‘But do that top button up. And remember - I don’t want you drinking alcohol and I want you home by ten. I’ll wait up.’
‘You’re going to stay here?’
‘Of course. I want to see you whe
n you get back. I love you.’
No booze and be back by ten? On a night out with Jess and Simon? On Jess’s birthday? He was joking, surely? I smiled weakly and left.
It was a brilliant evening. We went to a comedy club and split our sides laughing. Then we went to a pub.
‘So,’ I said, ‘what do you think of Jonathan?’
‘Controlling,’ Jess said. ‘Telling you what you can drink and what you can’t. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.’
‘Me neither,’ I said, taking a swig of my gin and tonic. I decided not to tell them about the conversation I’d had with Jonathan before I left. ‘But he’s not here now and I’m going to enjoy myself.’
‘It’s a sad day when you have to be away from your man before you can enjoy yourself,’ Simon said. ‘You should be able to have a good time with him, too.’
‘You didn’t like him, either, did you?’ I sighed.
‘To be honest,’ Simon said, ‘no. I don’t know what you’re doing with him. At least we could have a bit of a laugh with Daniel.’
Simon wanted to go clubbing. I was still sure that Jonathan had been joking about being in by ten. It was eleven thirty already but I decided I fancied a good dance. The club was loud, crowded and bawdy. Jonathan would have hated it. For that reason, as much as any other, I loved it. The three of us finally fell out of the door at three in the morning and into a cab.
I was sure Jonathan would have given up waiting for me long ago and gone to bed. He might sulk a bit in the morning but I could handle that. Or so I thought.
21 A rude awakening
I let myself in as quietly as I could so as not to wake him, only to find all the lights on and Jonathan sitting ramrod straight in my armchair, looking straight at me. I realised that I hadn’t put the crimson blouse back on or wiped off my lipstick, because I really had not thought it would be necessary.