by Julie Howlin
He pulled up outside a nondescript brick house in a cul-de-sac. There was a well-kempt lawn and a paved path leading to the front door. He left the bag with the doll in it on the back seat. He was going to drive my body somewhere away from here and dump it.
He held the door open for me like a perfect gentleman. The inside of the house was as nondescript as the outside. The walls were magnolia - the carpet beige. In the lounge, the only furniture was a beige leather sofa, a coffee table and a flat screen TV. There were no pictures on the walls. It was a sad house.
I had to mask my revulsion when he pulled me towards him and began to kiss me. I have to concede he was a good kisser, but the rest of his foreplay technique left a lot to be desired. It was as if someone had thrown a switch. The tenderness vanished in an instant, and his hands were around my throat, squeezing the life from me.
Remembering the voice in my head, I tried to hit him, to fight back, but my attempted blows had no effect. I tried to kick, but my legs were starting to wobble and give way, and I couldn’t scream. My whole body was burning; it felt as if my head would explode. For the first time ever in my life, the voice in my head had lied. There was no escape. This was going to be it. The crazed face of my killer began to swim and then fade. There seemed to be no point in fighting any more. My incarnation as Tabitha Drake was over.
45 the other side
I felt a gentle tugging sensation, and there was no more pain or discomfort. I’d left my body. I was watching the scene, watching Robin Montague throttling me. I looked like a rag doll in his arms. ‘I’m dead,’ I said. ‘You can stop that now.’ He didn’t hear me.
Then I noticed the bright tunnel, and more gentle tugging.
The light was dazzling. I could just make out several figures, waiting for me. One had a feather in his hair - my Indian brave spirit guide. As I moved towards them, I could make out their faces. My guide was as handsome as I’d always imagined. By his side stood an attractive young woman with black hair who looked rather familiar, but I couldn’t quite work out who she was. ‘Who are you?’ I asked her.
‘Oh, I apologise,’ she said, with a warm smile. ‘You don’t remember me this way, of course. I’ll just adjust my appearance so you’ll recognise me.’ Before my very eyes, her hair turned white, and her skin wrinkled, until I realised just who I was looking at.
‘Gran!’ I cried, and started to run towards her. It was as if I had hit a brick wall. I wanted to throw my arms around her but there was some kind of invisible barrier in the way. ‘You’re still angry with me,’ I said, desolately.
‘Tabitha, my dear, I was never angry with you. I love you, and I'm proud of you.’
‘So why can’t I...’
‘You’re not supposed to be here yet,’ she said. ‘This isn’t your time.’
‘It has to be,’ I said. ‘I’m being murdered.’
‘It is not your time,’ Dakota said. ‘Not yet.’
‘I…’ I wasn’t sure what to say. I wasn’t sure how my body could survive what was happening to it. I had already come to terms with my life being over. I could happily stay there with Gran, especially now I knew she wasn’t mad at me.
But Gran appeared to have other ideas. ‘He’s right,’ she said, ‘there’s so much more you have to do. You were doing so well - I was proud of you. I still am. You just need to have faith in yourself. That's why you haven't seen me – you have to learn to fly on your own, now. Trust what you see and hear.’
‘I can't,’ I said. ‘Not after what happened to Becky.’
‘You mustn't beat yourself up over that.’ Another spirit stepped forward and spoke. I recognised the rugby shirt and trainers.
‘Becky? I'm so sorry, I...’
‘I know it seemed to you that you'd got it hopelessly wrong, but you don't know the whole story,’ Becky said. ‘As it was, one minute I was climbing a rock; the next I was here. It was quick, and I didn't suffer. Then when I got here I learned that, if I'd gone on the beach holiday, on the last day I would have started getting pins and needles and tripping over my feet. When I got home, I would have gone to the doctor and been diagnosed with aggressive MS. I would have been in a wheelchair within months and progressively able to do less and less for myself and would have ended my life completely dependent on other people. I was always active and loved sports, and that would have been a living hell for me. Uncle George knew that. What he told you was right. It wasn't a mistake. Maggie's right. You have to learn to trust your visions. You saved me from years of suffering and I thank you.’
‘You can do this, Tabitha,’ Gran said. ‘I have total faith in you. I've always known, since you were a little girl, that you truly had the gift. When I came over, I knew I could leave my unfinished work in your hands. It’s still not finished.’
‘My mission, if I choose to accept it, huh?’
‘You could put it that way,’ Gran said with a smile.
‘So, what am I supposed to be doing, then?’
‘For starters, putting that bastard who killed me behind bars,’ said another spirit. Monica Harman. Shouldn't she be haunting her sister's wedding about now?
‘He must be caught.’ The spirit of Clare Mulholland stepped forward. ‘The wrong person is in prison for killing me - you can put that right. And tell Mark I love him, I’m happy here, and he needs to move on now. Tell him I give him permission to find somebody else.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yes,’ said Gran. ‘Without you, Amber will lose her gift. She needs you for a few more years to keep her focussed and keep her believing. If you do that, she’ll become a famous psychic, bringing comfort to thousands of people. If you don’t, well, she’ll be okay, but we’ll have to re-think what she does with her life.’
‘And you have the potential to save many more lives,’ Monica added.
‘That’s the most important thing,’ Gran said. ‘Why do you think young Inspector Swan wouldn’t take no for an answer, eh?’
‘He’s pretty persistent,’ I said.
‘He is, indeed,’ Gran said. ‘That’s one reason he’s so good at what he does, but even he might have given up if I hadn’t told him to keep on at you.’
‘You mean he can see you?’
‘No, though he’s not entirely without psychic talent. No, I told him so while I was still alive. Just in case.’
‘You could have told me while you were at it.’ I still felt a little indignant that she had taken Jamie into her confidence but not me.
‘Oh, I intended to. I was going to start training you when I thought you were ready - but even the best of us sometimes misjudge just how long we have left. Oh, it would have been easier if I was still on the earth plane, but it’s not impossible. I’m always with you and I’ll help you all I can.’
‘It’s almost time for you to go back,’ my guide said, gravely. Before I did, there was one more thing I wanted to know.
‘If I go back,’ I said, ‘Will I ever be lucky in love, Gran?’
Gran chuckled. ‘There’s someone for you. I know that for a fact. Your luck will change just as soon as you stop looking in all the wrong places.’
‘Where must I look, Gran? Is there anything you can tell me about him? How will I know when I meet him?’
‘You’ll know, when you realise what’s been under your nose all along. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter. There’s no more time. You have to go.’
‘Go now,’ said my guide, firmly.
It felt as if I was on the end of a long piece of elastic that had reached the extent of its stretch, and snapped back into place, taking me with it with a whoosh of air and alarming speed. I was choking, my throat was burning. I gratefully took a rasping, painful breath of precious air.
I couldn’t see - they told me later that when I put up a fight it resulted in blood vessels bursting in the back of my eyes causing a temporary loss of vision - but I was aware of a lot of activity around me - voices, people moving about. Someone was holding me, cradling me
against their breast - I could hear a heart beating, very fast, very strong. ‘Oh, thank God, she’s alive, she’s breathing,’ a man’s voice said. It sounded a bit like Jamie Swan, but I knew he should be taking to the floor for his first dance with Alison by now.
I heard a siren, a vehicle screeching to a stop. A police car? An ambulance? I wasn’t sure. ‘They got him, Sir,’ said another male voice. ‘He didn’t get far.’
There were footsteps, running. I heard a woman say, ‘How bad is she? Is she breathing? Conscious?’
The man who was holding me spoke. ‘She wasn’t breathing when I got here - but I did CPR - she’s breathing now.’ There was a tremor in his voice. Who was he? I wondered. And what was he doing in Montague’s flat? Montague lived alone and was hardly likely to break off from throttling me to answer the door.
‘We’ll take over from here,’ another man said, with a faint Birmingham accent. The woman prised me away from the man who was holding me. Her touch was cool and confident - but I wanted to stay with the person who had saved my life, resting in the warmth of his aura. I can’t usually see auras, but oddly, seeing as I couldn’t see anything else, I could see this man’s aura as I lay there inside it. It was the most beautiful blue I had ever seen, with flecks of gold. Just as I'd wanted to stay in the spirit world with Gran, now I wanted to stay here and let the beating of his heart lull me to sleep. But the paramedic took me away from him into what felt like desolate coldness. I felt them wrapping a blanket around me and then everything faded away.
46 the land of the living
When I woke, I could see again, although my vision was slightly blurry. My throat was sore, it hurt to swallow. Simon was sitting at my bedside, holding my hand. I tried to say ‘hello,’ but nothing came out except for a croak. Simon's face lit up when he saw I was awake. ‘Hey, welcome back to the land of the living, Sweetie Pie.’
‘Wha...’ I tried again.
‘Shush, Sweetie Pie, the doctor says you have to rest your throat. We were ever so worried about you. Do you remember anything?’
‘Not a lot,’ I croaked. ‘What happened?’
‘You went to a psychic fair - remember that?’ I nodded. ‘And you pulled some guy who turned out to be a serial killer.’ I nodded again. I remembered perfectly up to that point. What I wanted to know was what had happened in that room while I was talking to my grandmother at the gate of the Spirit World. What had made the Mitzi Doll murderer let me go? Who was it who had found me and called the ambulance? The memory of his energy and the steady beating of his heart made me feel safe and comforted, even now. When the spirits told me I had a choice, I had known it would take a miracle to save me. I wanted to know how that miracle had come about.
‘Put yourself up as bait, I heard. Dumb thing to do,’ Simon said. People had read my notes. I cringed. I’d said things I never would have said if I thought for one moment I would survive and have to face those people again. ‘Lucky you sent that fax to Scotland Yard first. They mobilised right away.’ And to think I’d been cursing Jamie’s workaholic colleague for hogging the fax. I realised that whoever it was had probably saved my life.
‘They staked his place out,’ Simon continued. ‘Saw you and this guy go in - the coppers were watching through the window. Soon as he started throttling you, they burst in, caught him in the act. He legged it, but they went after him. Apart from this one guy who’d done a first aid course who stuck around and gave you mouth to mouth and brought you back from the dead. Literally. He was here earlier. Gorgeous he was, too. He can pull me back from the teeth of hell any time he likes.’
Typical, I thought. I’m locked lip to lip with some beautiful hunk but missed it through being temporarily dead. Though I would not have wanted to miss my chat with Gran for the world.
‘Anyway, I think they want to get a statement from you as soon as you can talk. Lots of ice cream. That’s the secret, so the doctor said. That’s what they prescribed when I had my tonsils out. Worked a treat. Made being in hospital worthwhile.’ I smiled weakly. Just listening to him was exhausting.
**
The next time I woke, my mother was there, wringing her hands. ‘Thank God, Thank God, thank God,’ she kept saying.
This time I managed to sit up and say, albeit croakily, ‘I’m all right, Mum.’
A head appeared around the door, a man with short brown hair. I didn’t recognise him. ‘Looks like she’s awake and talking now, Officer,’ my mother said, and the man came in. He was wearing a police uniform and holding a notebook. I wondered how long he had been waiting outside my room to get my version of what had happened.
‘How are you feeling, Miss Drake?’ he asked.
‘Better,’ I said. ‘I think.’
‘Do you feel well enough to give me a statement?’ I nodded. Mum ruffled my hair and left us.
I told him the story, slowly between sips of water. I was careful to miss out any of my previous involvement with the case - everything before Robin Montague sat down at my table - but all that had happened after that, although I glossed over sending the fax. I said I’d done it because I’d had a bad feeling about Robin Montague. The last thing I wanted was for Jamie to get in any trouble when he got back. I told them I'd been given the card with the direct fax number on it after I was mugged, in case anything occurred to me later about my attackers. He seemed to buy that.
‘What time is it?’ I asked, wondering how long I’d been out of it.
He looked at his watch. ‘Three thirty-five.’
I remembered it had been ten thirty when I'd arrived at Montague’s flat. I’d been out for three or four hours. Jamie would be on a plane to the Dominican Republic by now.
‘They caught the guy, right?’ I croaked.
‘Yes, Miss Drake. He’s in custody. You’re perfectly safe. He’s not going anywhere. There’s evidence linking him with a number of murders, so he’s being questioned hard by the Inspector in charge of the case. He’ll want to talk to you, too. He was pretty anxious to know how you were doing. But it’s three thirty-six in the morning, so I’m going to let you both rest. You can expect a visit from him later, though. His name’s Detective Inspector Swan. Goodnight.’
Jamie? But he was on his honeymoon! Unless I’d actually been comatose for two whole weeks! I hadn’t thought to ask what the date was, only the time. I opened my mouth to ask the officer, but he was gone.
**
I awoke in the morning to find Caroline and David sitting with me. ‘You’re lucky to be alive, you realise,’ said my sister, the moment I opened my eyes. ‘Honestly, you should have known better than to go off with a strange man like that! You could have been killed!’
‘Shut up, Caro, you sound just like Mum,’ I croaked.
‘Well, at least you won’t do anything that stupid ever again,’ she said.
‘How long was I out for?’ I wanted to know.
‘Three days,’ said Caroline. ‘We were all terrified you were going to be a vegetable.’
‘You know just what to say to make me feel better, don’t you?’
She shrugged. Bedside manner - not one of her strengths. Good job she didn’t go into nursing. ‘Three days?’ I repeated. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t three weeks?’
‘Seemed like three weeks, but no. Only three days.’
So what was Jamie doing, coming back from his honeymoon after just three days? It didn’t make sense. Unless... They must have called him right back because there had been a development on the case. I didn’t like to think how Alison would have reacted to that, especially when she found out that it was my doing. I doubted Jamie would be all that jazzed about it, either. Although I really wanted to see Jamie, I dreaded the thought of him being angry with me for ruining his honeymoon.
Jamie arrived a couple of hours later. He looked tired and drawn, with dark circles under his eyes, but his face lit up when he saw me sitting up in bed, and his grin was as wide and as bright as usual. ‘This is becoming a habit, you realise,’ he said, sitting
down in the chair next to my bed.
‘What is?’
‘Me saving you from your crazy escapades,’ he said. ‘I really thought you were gone this time. You scared the crap out of me. But we got a result, you’ll be pleased to hear.’
‘You’re not mad at me, are you?’ He had every right to be - dragged back from his honeymoon when it had barely started. Why, he and Alison had probably not even had a chance to...
‘No more than usual,’ he said, with a smile. He was being remarkably congenial under the circumstances. Why wasn’t he yelling at me?
‘Alison probably hates my guts, though,’ I said.
‘Ah. I’d say again, no more than usual.’
‘Did you leave her in the Dominican Republic by herself?’
‘Er. No. We never actually got there. It’s a bit of a long story. Didn’t you get my message?’
‘No. I haven’t picked up any messages or opened any post since I saw you last. What happened? Was it my fault?’
‘No. It was entirely my fault. I called the wedding off. I did phone and tell you.’
‘You did what?’
‘When I had that week off to get ready, I was watching how excited Alison was, I realised two things. She was far too excited and I wasn’t excited enough. She was in love with the idea of getting married and thought it was some sort of antidote for the grief about her sister. I realised I was making a big mistake. So I sat her down and we had a serious talk. She wasn’t happy, and having to cancel everything was a real hassle. I’m not her parents’ favourite person, either. I’m just glad I realised in time. I feel a real heel and a cad, doing that to her on the tail of what happened to Em, but in the long run, I know I’ve done the right thing.’
‘Em?’
‘That’s what the family used to call Monica. Em for Monica.’
‘Alison will meet someone else,’ I said, remembering Elaine.