Was she in the churchyard that night? If so, how did she get there and how could she have made it home?
The dream was vivid. Heather recalled the police officer who found her and was with her at the hospital. She contemplated calling Frenchay Hospital accident and emergency to enquire whether anyone matching her description was admitted that night. She dismissed the idea and considered how stupid she was.
It was late in the afternoon. Heather wandered around her flat, attending to menial tasks to take her mind off things. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t think of anything else.
She thought of the visions of great grandmother Elizabeth and Mark, her boyfriend who’d died in the climbing accident. The visions were over six months ago. She’d told no one of what happened because she wanted no one to think she was crazy.
She knew that she’d been blessed with the veil of tears of which Elizabeth told her. Maybe Charles Nash was trying to contact her. Who was Nash and what did he need? The old lady in the dream said he needed her.
Heather didn’t like nor understand what was happening. She was alone and needed someone to turn to. The only person was Elizabeth. Elizabeth told her on New Year’s Day to look after Charlie and keep him safe because they needed each other.
None of it made sense. What’s happening? she thought to herself.
The voices she’d heard always reached out to her. Now it was her turn to reach out. She needed Elizabeth but didn't know how to reach her.
Heather had never been a religious person and couldn’t remember the last time she’d prayed. If Charles Nash, Mark and Elizabeth had all spoken from beyond the grave then maybe there was a God. A God who would listen to her, even though she’d hardly ever attended church. She knew Elizabeth had been religious and devoted her life to God and maybe this was why she had the gift of the veil of tears. But Heather was different. She considered herself an average person who lived day by day with no great plan in her life.
But perhaps she should pray.
She knelt on the floor in her small lounge, put her hands together and looked towards the ceiling. She closed her eyes and began.
“Dear God. It’s rare you hear from me, actually I can’t remember the last time I said a prayer. But something strange is happening. I need to speak with my Great Grandmother Elizabeth…..”
Heather cried and held her hand over her mouth. She wiped her tears, composed herself and tried again.
“……. Sorry God….. I’m not very good at this. If you could ask Elizabeth to contact me, I would be so very grateful.”
She opened her eyes and looked around. Heather felt stupid. Stupid for praying and stupid for asking for such a ridiculous thing. But she hoped her prayer would be answered.
Heather moped around the flat. She expected to open a door and find Elizabeth, or to hear her voice emanating from somewhere.
“This is fucking ridiculous!” shouted Heather as she considered what was going through her mind.
“There’s no need to curse young lady.”
Heather spun around and saw a beautiful lady in the hallway. She recognised Elizabeth, but not as the lady she’d remembered as a child, but as she had looked in her late twenties. Heather was rooted to the spot and couldn’t speak. Her eyes were transfixed on the vision. Elizabeth’s hair was tied in a bun and she was neatly attired in a white dress.
“Hello Heather, a little bird said you wanted to speak with me.”
Was this happening? Was it really happening? Had someone listened to her prayer? Heather opened her mouth but her throat was too dry for her to form any words.
“Take your time Heather. There’s no rush,” said Elizabeth.
Heather closed her eyes, rubbed them with the palms of her hands and then looked again. Elizabeth was still standing in front of her. She wasn’t translucent or vague, she was as real as everything else she could see around her. She even cast a shadow.
Heather took a step closer and reached out her hand.
“Don’t get too close.”
Heather took two steps back and lowered her arm.
“It takes an awful lot of energy for me to stand in front of you. If you get too close your skin will blister.”
Heather felt heat emanating from Elizabeth. There was an overpowering smell which reminded her of rain hitting parched soil. Like the smell of ozone. This made the whole thing real and she was certain she wasn’t having another strange dream like the one she had a few weeks ago. This time she took no chances. She went to the bathroom, ran the cold tap and threw water over her face. She placed her hands on the edge of the sink and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. This was real. There was Elizabeth staring, watching her in the mirror. She had followed her and was standing in the doorway of the bathroom.
Heather had so many questions, but found it hard to speak. The vision she saw before her proved that existence continued after death. Should she ask her about God, or about Heaven? She was in awe. After a few seconds Heather spoke.
“Hello.”
Her voice was weak and shaky.
“Hello Heather. You better sit down. Follow me.”
Elizabeth turned around and walked along the hall. Heather followed. She watched Elizabeth’s feet as she made her way to the lounge. Her black shoes left an impression on the carpet, just as a living person’s would. Elizabeth entered the lounge and stood by the table. Heather sat on the floor and looked up at her.
“I can’t stay for long. The energy it takes to stand here is immense so I need to get to the point.”
Heather stood up, moved to an armchair and mentally prepared to talk with a ghost.
“The gift you’ve been given, which I’ve always referred to as the veil of tears, is strong with you. I was lucky to have been blessed with it and it comforted me when I spoke with those who’d passed over…,” Elizabeth paused and Heather noticed a tear in her eye. “I gained comfort speaking with those who died, and like me, passed to the other side.”
Heather said nothing. She couldn’t believe what was happening to be real.
“You have been given a gift to do something special. I thought I was special to speak with the dead, but the reason you’ve been chosen is to do something which will affect many.”
At last Heather spoke.
“What have I been chosen to do?”
Elizabeth looked troubled and shook her head.
“That’s something which I can’t tell you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated, but you have to believe me…… I can’t tell you. You'll learn what to do. There is nothing you can do to stop what will happen. It will happen.”
Heather was scared.
“You will be strong and have faith.”
“Who is Charles Nash?”
“Charles was a man who was very important. He holds a secret which remains with him after death. You will be his protector.”
“What do you mean, protector? He’s been dead since 1839.”
“Sorry Heather, I’ve said too much….. but you will find out.”
“What about the lady in the graveyard, the one I saw in my dream?”
“That was no dream Heather, the lady’s name is Hermione.”
“Hermione? You mean I really was there, I was in the graveyard?”
“Again, it’s very difficult to explain and I have little time. But what occurred was something we refer to as ‘a happening’.”
“A happening?”
“Yes, it’s the midpoint between a dream and reality.”
Heather didn’t know what to say.
“You will speak with Charles. I know not when, but you will. I’m here to give you some advice, something to make things easier for you.”
Heather listened intently.
“You need a channel. Something that works for you which makes it easier for you to speak with the dead. Only in your case its Charles Nash you need to speak with and nobody else.”
“A channel?”
asked Heather.
“Yes, think of it as a telephone. Something which will help you communicate with somebody far away. You may remember, I wore a silver cross around my neck which a close friend gave me.”
Heather remembered the cross. She remembered it around Elizabeth’s neck the night she died.
“The cross I wore allowed me to speak with the dead. You too have a channel and it’s with you here…. and I believe you know what it is.”
Heather looked around the lounge. She couldn't think. She had no special pendant or locket as Elizabeth did when she was alive.
“I can’t think what you mean, what kind of channel? There’s nothing I can…….. “
Heather’s voice trailed off as something occurred to her. She stood up and left the room. Seconds later she returned carrying the stone head.
“Is this it?”
Elizabeth had gone. All that remained was a faint smell of ozone. She put the head down and walked to where Elizabeth had stood. The air was warm, and crackled with static electricity.
“Elizabeth, are you still here?” called Heather as she walked to the hallway.
She called one more time and accepted that Elizabeth had returned to where she came.
There were questions Heather wanted to ask. She didn’t get an answer to her question about Hermione. And what on earth did she mean by her being Charles Nash’s protector?
Her mouth was dry, and she needed a glass of water. Filling a glass in the kitchen she saw how much her hand was shaking. The shock of what just happened registered. Heather gulped back the water and her entire body from head to toe shuddered. She went to her room and lay on the bed. She couldn’t stop shaking.
A few minutes later the shaking subsided. She considered what just happened and tried to stay calm. She knew something important was going to happen, but she’d no idea what. Elizabeth wasn’t giving much away. It was as if she was playing a game with her, as if she was teasing her with snippets of information which meant nothing.
She’d told nobody of the strange things that happened. She was a sensitive woman and worried that people would consider her crazy. But after what she’d witnessed she needed to speak with someone. There was only one person she could call, and that was her sister.
She reached for her phone and called Sophie.
With her head on the pillow she held the phone to her ear and waited for her sister to pick up.
“Sophie, it's Heather. I need to talk with you, but not on the phone, we need to meet. I’ve just had a visitor ……….. and you won’t believe who it was.”
Chapter 26
1st April
The tension in the small office of SOS Graphics was unbearable. Finn and Sally shared the same workspace and were just feet apart. Sally looked from her computer and watched him work on his project. She couldn’t believe what her boss Ian Tomlinson had told her.
You sneaky smarmy bastard thought Sally trying not to show her emotions.
Finn looked up and smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile, but one of satisfaction as if he’d achieved something and had got one over on her.
Just before lunch Tomlinson asked to see her for an unplanned ‘one to one’ meeting. Sally didn't know what he wanted, but unplanned meetings were not usually good news. She expected to be loaded with another project with her workload already at breaking point, or to be asked to reschedule her holiday to accommodate a new contract. But when Tomlinson told her she was off the Rusling account and Finn Maynard was to take over she couldn’t believe it.
“But why, I don’t understand?”
“Sorry Sally, I’ve been looking at your work and it’s not to the required standard.”
“With due respect Ian, I disagree. Show me what is so wrong with my work you’re passing it to Finn.”
Tomlinson sighed, brought up the files and turned his laptop to face her. He ran through the list of things that Finn had brought to his attention.
“This is work in progress. You know that. I wouldn't hand it to Rusling like this.”
Tomlinson could see her frustration and felt awkward, but had to agree with Finn that her work was under par.
“I worked hard to close that deal when Finn was on leave and I want to be the one who finishes it, not him.”
“Sorry Sally, the decision’s made. Finn’s asked to take over the account and I've agreed.”
“Sorry, did you say Finn asked to take it over, is this his idea?”
“He brought your oversights to my attention and yes, he asked to take the account back.”
She was on the verge of tears.
“He wants it back? He wasn't working on it in the first place.”
“To be fair Sally, it was Finn’s contract. He agreed that you should close the deal whilst he was on paternity leave. But now things are different. I agree that Finn should finish the work. The thing is, Rusling Ltd is a big deal and if they’re happy with our work there could be more contracts. SOS need this business and I don’t want to jeopardise things.”
Sally felt like handing in her notice there and then. She couldn’t believe Finn had done such a thing.
“I understand things may be awkward between you, but things will settle back to the way they were. Besides, you won’t be spending much time together. In the next few weeks Finn will be leaving for the States.”
“The States, you mean the USA?” asked Sally in a bewildered tone.
“He’s planning to fly to Washington. He’s been speaking with a company over there and he’s close to getting us a hell of a good contract. It could make us an awful lot of money.”
Sally didn't understand. This just wasn’t Finn. It was as if he'd become a different person. Before, he couldn’t care less about work and did it because he had to. He was a talented graphic designer, but his heart had never been in it. He’d even joked about it. Work was a means to an end, and the end to which it was a means was the wellbeing of his wife and young family.
After the meeting Sally spent her lunch break pacing along the High Street. She was livid.
When she’d returned to the office she was still fuming. She didn’t know what to say. She walked in, closed the door and stared at him. He didn’t notice her. He was engrossed in his work.
She had seen changes in his appearance over the last few weeks. He’d let his hair grow. It was long enough for a ponytail. She knew he’d enrolled in a gym and had been going every night. His once flabby body was trimming up nicely. He wore a tight T-shirt which showed his muscles which were toning up. She’d never been attracted to him, but these recent changes appealed to her. Except for the awful gash on his face. Nobody knew what happened. When asked, he only referred to an accident whilst shaving.
But if Sally found him more aesthetically pleasing, now she disliked him as a person.
She could no longer stay quiet. She looked up from her computer, pushed her dark hair back and confronted him.
“I assumed we were friends?”
Finn said nothing. He carried on working at his computer.
“Can we at least talk about things?”
“What’s there to discuss?” replied Finn.
“Well, why did you decide to shaft me?”
“Shaft you?” laughed Finn, “That’s an unfortunate turn of phrase.”
“You know what I mean, why didn’t you speak with me first?”
“There was nothing to talk about. It's simple, your work isn’t good enough.”
Finn remained calm and collected whilst Sally became close to tears.
“Things are going to change around here. I’m going to turn this half-baked, two bit design company into a force to be reckoned with.”
“Listen to yourself, recently you didn’t give a shit about your job, now you’re talking as if you own the company.”
Finn glanced across the desk with a wry smile.
“You’re planning on taking over SOS aren’t you?”
“Tomlinson’s getting old, he’s out of touch. We need s
omeone with original ideas. A fresh approach is what’s needed……….. and I am the man to deliver the goods.”
Sally was going to speak when she heard tapping. She looked up and saw a huge black bird on the window ledge rapping at the glass with its beak.
“What the hell is that?” shouted Sally.
Finn stood up and walked to the window.
“The raven,” he whispered as he stared at the massive black bird.
With outstretched wings it cocked its head and looked at Finn. It opened its beak and made a low, gurgling croak.
Finn turned the latch and slid open the window.
“What are you’re doing?” said Sally in a raised, but hushed tone. The bird scared her, but she didn’t want to alarm it.
He didn’t reply, instead he put his arm out. The bird hopped along the ledge, croaked and jumped onto Finn’s forearm. The bird’s talons dug into his skin. Finn didn’t flinch and brought the bird into the office.
“Get that thing out,” said Sally as she backed against the wall.
Finn stroked the birds head and it flapped its wings.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” whispered Finn as he admired the bird’s plumage.
He recalled the bird in his daughter’s room the day they moved into their house.
“I know you. You’ve been following me haven’t you?”
The raven croaked.
“Man, you’re something else.”
The raven jumped along his outstretched arm and nuzzled its beak into Finn’s neck. He smirked as the bird croaked and gurgled.
Sally was nervous. She hated birds at the best of times and the situation scared her. She stood motionless with her back pressed against a rank of filing cabinets.
The raven stopped and faced Sally. It cocked its head to one side and looked at her. It squawked and made clicking noises, which sounded like a pig. The bird jumped from Finn’s arm, hopped across a desk and on to the cabinet next to Sally. It continued to squawk and make odd grunting sounds.
“I don’t think it likes you,” said Finn with a smirk.
The Third Skull (Book one - The Discovery): A Paranormal Mystery Thriller Page 13