Life Shift

by Michelle Slee

  She and Matt had tried to create their own traditions for Teresa, merging what each had done separately with their own family and creating something new. So early Christmas Eve Christine and Teresa would spend hours in the kitchen. Christine would let Teresa help make the stuffing – mixing onion, mixed herbs, knobs of butter and milk and rolling it all into bite sized balls. Then she would help baste the turkey, laying bacon strips on top so that the turkey skin tasted juicy and salty. Then finally she helped roll out the pastry for mince pies. All the while the radio would play in the background, Christmas tune after Christmas tune, Christine and Teresa singing along merrily.

  Matt would then come bursting through the front door, last minute shopping in hand – bread, milk, potatoes, secret packages quickly hidden upstairs.

  Then together the three of them would sing more carols as they cleaned up the kitchen and put the shopping away.

  It was around this time Teresa would ask to have her bath and get in her new pyjamas, anxious for it already to be night time so that she could go to bed and be visited by Santa. But of course it was too early. Their main task for the rest of the day would be to keep Teresa occupied, busy and distracted and to tire her out so that she would sleep through the night.

  They played Christmas films – always The Muppets Christmas Carol followed by Albert Finney’s Scrooge. Teresa loved the Scrooge story. Then food followed by a mince pie. At around five o’clock Christine relented and gave Teresa her bath and dressed her in her new pyjamas. As Christine brushed her long hair Teresa chatted away merrily about where Santa was now, had he even left the north pole, were his reindeers all prepared and ready to fly? Christine answered each question, weaving for Teresa a magical Christmas world so real that even she found herself getting excited. Then together they set out a mince pie and glass of milk for Santa and Teresa had her photo taken before the Christmas tree, another Christmas Eve tradition. And then it was time for her to go to bed.

  She would lay her stocking at the foot of her bed and crawl under the covers. “I think I’m too excited to sleep Mum,” she would say and Christine would just smile, kiss her on the forehead and tell her that sleep would soon come, that she would dream of magical things and that before she knew it morning would have arrived and Santa would have been.

  “Good night Teresa, sweet dreams,” she’d say as she turned off the light and closed the bedroom door. She knew it would take Teresa about half an hour to get off to sleep but that this would seem much longer in her head. In the meantime Christine and Matt would lay out all the presents in the living room, finish preparing the vegetables for morning and ring their relatives to make final arrangements for the following day. Then when half an hour or so had passed Christine would creep into Teresa’s room and lift the empty stocking gently from the bed. She would take it downstairs and fill it with all the smaller presents she had been buying over the past few months. Then, the stocking now bulging, she would return it to the bedroom and lay it at the foot of the bed. She knew how excited Teresa would be when she woke up in the middle of the night and reached down to the foot of the bed and patted the stocking. She would know then that Santa had come.

  And now it was Christine and Matt’s time to be together. Andy Williams was playing softly in the background as they sat by the fire, relaxing after the busyness of the day, looking forward to the festivities tomorrow, but enjoying this quiet moment as well. The fire crackled, the egg nog warmed them through and all was blissful.

  Except, except, this Christmas Eve was not quite the same. Even as they talked quietly about Teresa’s presents and speculated about which ones she would like the most, Christine felt anxious and ill at ease. It had been the usual Christmas Eve, everything they had done had been the same. But something didn’t feel the same. And she kept on thinking she was seeing something from the corner of her eye. Sometimes it seemed as if there was another person stood just to her left, watching her. But when she turned her head there was nothing there. But still the feeling persisted.

  Matt caught her looking once. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, “I just feel a bit jumpy tonight. I don’t know why.”

  “I know what you mean,” he said. He hesitated and then continued, “I’m still getting that weird feeling Christine, almost like I’m forgetting something important. I can’t shake it off.”

  “I know. I feel the same,” she said. “It’s odd isn’t it?” She didn’t know what else to say. She felt scared but she didn’t know why. She reached over and held his hand, his warm, comforting and familiar hand. Why did it now feel as if this was all under threat in some way? As if this could all be taken away from them at any moment.

  “I don’t want to lose you,” she said suddenly. “I don’t want to lose you or Teresa.”

  “Don’t be silly, you’re not going to lose me or Teresa. What’s put that idea in your head?”

  “I don’t know.” She shivered. “I just feel as if something bad is going to happen. I don’t feel safe anymore.”

  He came closer and held her tight. “You’ll always be safe with me Christine,” he said. “I’ll never let you go and I’ll never let anyone harm you.”

  But suddenly another image flashed before her. Matt with another woman. Matt with another child, a young boy, slightly older than Teresa. She pulled back from him and looked away. Where had that come from? Matt had never been with anyone else. They had been together since they were in the sixth form. There was no other woman. There was no other child. She trusted Matt completely. What on earth had that image been?

  He knew just from looking at her face that something was wrong. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost,” he said, trying to keep his tone light but not really succeeding.

  She couldn’t speak for a moment. The image had seemed so real. Matt had looked the same but also different in some imperceptible way. And he had looked happy.

  “Do you ever wish we’d had a son?” she asked suddenly.

  He flinched, almost as if she’d slapped him. “Why do you ask that?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, I just wondered. Why?” She was scared by his reaction, it was as if she had touched a raw nerve.

  “It’s a strange thing for you to ask,” he said, rather defensively.

  “It’s just a question that’s all. Nothing strange about it,” she replied.

  “You’ve never asked anything like that before. And you know how much I love Teresa.” He seemed to be getting angry now and that scared her even more.

  “I haven’t said anything about you not loving Teresa,” she replied, “I’d never say anything like that, you know that. I’m just asking if you’ve ever wished that you had a son that’s all.”

  “But why would you ask that,” he asked, “Why now?”

  “What’s important about the fact I’m asking it now Matt? What’s going on?” Now she was more than just scared. She was terrified.

  “It’s just…it’s just….” He seemed unable to carry on speaking.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “Okay…it’s just…I keep having these dreams. I didn’t want to say anything to you because I didn’t want to freak you out. I keep dreaming…,” he looked at her almost sheepishly and then continued, “I keep dreaming that I’m married to another woman and we have a son not a daughter. I’m dreaming about it all the time.”

  Now it was her turn to look as if she had been slapped. She felt sick. All of a sudden the temperature in the room seemed to drop. She shivered.

  “Don’t look like that,” he said. “You’re looking as if I’ve just told you I’m having an affair.”

  “That’s how it feels,” she said.

  “It’s just a dream,” he said impatiently. “I knew you’d be like this. That’s why I haven’t told you.”

  “Okay, but do you love her when you’re in the dream?” she persisted.

  “Is that important?” he asked.

  “Yes of cour
se it is.”

  “It’s just my subconscious, obviously something’s going on at that level and the dreams are just trying to help me work it through.”

  She stood up, hurt and angry. “That’s the worst thing you could have said.”

  He stood up too. “Why is that the worst thing?”

  “Because what you’re really saying is that although day to day you think you’re in love with me at a subconscious level you yearn for a different woman and child, a different life.”

  “Don’t try to psychoanalyse me,” he snapped. “You’re a theologian not a psychologist.”

  “It doesn’t take a psychologist to understand what you’re saying. And I knew. I saw it.”

  “What do you mean – saw it?” he asked.

  “Just now, earlier, I saw an image in my head of you with a woman and a young boy. I knew. Somehow.”

  “Christine listen to yourself, how could you know what I’m dreaming about?”

  “I don’t know, I probably just know you better than you know yourself.” She was starting to cry.

  He came over and put his hands on her shoulders. “No, don’t you see, perhaps something is happening. Happening to us both. Don’t you feel it? Something is strange.”

  “I told you earlier things feel strange, but now I know what it is, I was picking up on your emotions. All this talk about you feeling as if you’ve forgotten something important. What you’re forgetting is how to be happy with me and Teresa.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, “And stop shouting. You’re going to wake Teresa up.”

  She hadn’t realised she was shouting. Suddenly she felt embarrassed. Was she overreacting? It was just a dream. But something told her no, it was not just a dream, something was going on here.

  “Have you met that woman in real life?” she asked.

  “No, never,” he said. “Christine, listen to me, it’s you I love. And I love our daughter. And I do not wish I had a son. I don’t know why I’m having these dreams and I do not know why I’m feeling so unsettled. But you are too. You’re even having dreams. I know you are.”

  “What do you mean you know I am?” she asked.

  He looked away awkwardly.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “You’ve started talking in your sleep,” he said.

  She felt a chill. Talking in her sleep. What had she said? She felt guilty but didn’t know why. She wasn’t doing anything wrong, she was not having an affair, she had always been faithful.

  “Yes you’ve talked in your sleep, about someone, a man, you sometimes say his name over and over again.”

  “A man, what man?” she asked, but already a part of her knew, a part of her was remembering.

  “Damien,” he said simply, and the other world came crashing back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  She opened her eyes. She was in bed. Damien was beside her, asleep. She felt the usual wave of disorientation and nausea that accompanied her shifts. For a moment she just lay there, not really sure what to do. But then she felt a pinching in her ear. She reached up and touched it. The device was still there. She felt her chest. The other device was still attached.

  She shook Damien awake. “What is it?” he asked groggily.

  “Damien, it’s happened again. We need to call Dr Collins, we need to see if the devices have recorded anything.”

  He sat up, rubbing his eyes and looking confused.

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “It happened and I’m back. That means the devices might show something. It’s Christmas Eve there.” She felt a sharp pang. Christmas Eve. She was back here so she would miss Teresa opening her presents. Again she felt that yearning for the other world and almost a resentment for the pull of this one. She looked away so that Damien wouldn’t see it in her eyes. And she and Matt had hardly parted on the best of terms. She knew here why he was dreaming of that woman and boy, his wife and son. But her consciousness there had just felt threatened. Still though, even here something nagged at her - why was he thinking about them in that life? That was their life - her’s and Matt’s? Why was she not enough for him in that life? But you’re thinking of Damien too in that life, she reminded herself. Why aren’t Matt and Teresa enough for you?

  She looked over at Damien. He was looking back at her, still confused.

  “Damien, we were sat before the fire drinking hot chocolate when it happened. When was that?”

  “That was last night, don’t you remember?”

  “It takes me a bit of time to remember things after it happens. I get confused. What happened after the hot chocolate?”

  “We watched some television, you read your book, then we went to bed. You were quiet but you were here. We talked. How could you have been anywhere else?”

  She couldn’t explain it to him. It hardly made sense to her. That she could live in both worlds at the same time. That she could function in both worlds at the same time. But that her consciousness was only ever in one of them. How to explain that? And to try to explain it would be to hurt him - because part of her now thought her consciousness went where it wanted to be. When she was in the other world she couldn’t remember this world. Did that mean that was where the real Christine wanted to be? How could she tell him that?

  She thought about what was happening in the other world. Was it Christmas morning? Was Teresa up and excitedly unwrapping her presents?What would she feel when she and Matt wheeled in the bicycle they had bought her. Christine had been so excited at the thought of Teresa’s face when she saw that bicycle and now she was missing out on it all. Yet a part of her wasn’t. And if she jumped again she would eventually come to remember Christmas morning as if she’d been there. But when would that happen next?

  “We have to ring Dr Collins,” she repeated. “We need to see what the devices show. It might help us understand what’s happening.”

  “I just want all this to stop,” said Damien, getting out of bed and pulling on his clothes. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

  “I don’t either Damien,” she said, “But I know Dr Collins and Jim want to help us. We have to let them try.”

  Damien didn’t reply. He left the bedroom. After a few seconds she heard his electric toothbrush start up in the bathroom.

  She got out of bed and picked up the phone. She dialled the number Dr Collins had given her, his mobile. He answered on the third ring.

  “Dr Collins, it’s Christine.”

  “Christine, hello. Are you okay? Has anything happened?”

  “Yes it happened again last night. I’ve just come back. I’m wearing the devices. Can you come and see if they’ve recorded anything.”

  “Yes of course. I’ll be there in the hour. I’ll ring Jim too. We spoke last night. He’ll want to be there.”

  “I’ll put on a pot of coffee,” she said.

  “Yes you do that,” he paused, then continued, “This could be amazing, Christine. It could change everything we know about reality.”

  “I know,” said Christine, feeling a shiver run through her, “I really can’t wait.”

  During the next half hour she put on the pot of coffee, told Damien what was happening and then had a quick shower to freshen up. She was just coming down the stairs when she heard the front doorbell ring and saw Damien open the door to Dr Collins and Jim Priestley.