by Stan Mason
‘If I joined your company, where would I be located?’
‘That’s a question I’d put to you,’ she responded. ‘The company has only two banks at the moment. One in Cyprus, the other in the United States. In time, we should have about four banks offering us all kinds of services with facilities satisfying our future needs. It involves a great deal of manipulation and travelling at times but I hope we’re able to confer regularly... not only on the telephone.’
‘I’d like to meet your marketing whiz-kid.’
‘Mike Ballantyne... sure. You’ll like him. He’s interested in only one thing... selling! He’ll expect you to get finance so that he can expand the sales. If we’re talking about commitment, he deserves the title of ‘Mr. Commitment!’’
‘There’s only one problem that worries me,’ continued Charles with an element of concern. ‘I don’t know anything about jewellery.’
‘If that’s all troubling you, you’re home and dry. I could teach you the business in one hour flat. After a month of experience, you’ll believe that you’ve been in it all your life. We deal only with certain stones and a specific type of metal.’ She put her hand over his again. ‘I know what you’re going to say. You’ll join us. If you don’t, I’ll die.’
He laughed at her remark. ‘That’s not a very professional approach, is it?’
‘It wasn’t intended to be,’ she replied coolly. ‘I was talking as a woman... not a business executive.’
He moved his hand slowly away and stared out at the countryside. ‘You have the gift of being a medium so you obviously know my answer. Am I being stupid to attend the séance?’
‘That’s entirely up to you. If you want it to happen, it’s best that you get it out of your system. Then you won’t have any hang-ups.’
‘Tell me the truth. Will it affect my late wife in any way?’
‘She’s in the spirit world now. If her aura becomes too weak to make contact, she’ll certainly be able to reach Mama... if she wants to.’
‘I thought that spirits were desperate to get their messages through?’
‘Only some.’
‘I suppose some pass on to be lieutenants of the Master souls and a lot are reincarnated. That’s why there aren’t so many trying to get through.’
A disturbed expression crossed her face. ‘Who told you that?’
Jennifer did. She told me many things about what happens when people cross the bridge... after they die. I told your mother she’s been communicating with me but the messages are getting shorter and fading away. She even failed to finish what she was saying to me last time.’
‘Then you’re aware of the veil.’
‘My local vicar mentioned it.’
‘Then you know you must keep the veil in place at all times,’ she warned him sternly. ‘A little learning is a dangerous thing!’
‘Strange!’ commented the banker thoughtfully. ‘That’s exactly the quotation he made.’
‘If people realise the glory of Heaven, they’ll want to get there earlier... especially if hope is scant for them in life. The veil must never be lifted.’
He took a long hard look at her. ‘Then you object to my intrusion into all this. The seance and everything.’
‘Of course I do. I learned a long time ago that things are best left as they are. I don’t mean Mama giving you readings opr séances for tourists who only want some fun. But for someone like you, who wants to take close orders with such a dangerous subject, I object strongly. However I wouldn’t do anything to stop you. If I did, I’d regret it never took place and I’d always wonder what would have happened. Let it run it’s course and die a death on this island.’
‘Why should it die a death here?’
‘I’m just hoping it will, Charles. I’m hoping it will.’ Mama’ not the only one to take a shine to you. You must know that by now. You’re a professional man of high integrity. The reason I offered you the appointment goes far beyond that intention. I know it’s the wrong time at present with you grieving for your lost wife, but there’ll be a right time and I want us to be there together.’ She moved away from the verandah rail and gave a long sigh as she stretched. ‘I’m going to have a shower and change. There’s plenty of wine. Help yourself. Just beware of my nosey brothers. They’ll want to know everything about you.’
She left him thinking about their conversation. So many things were happening at once... it was all going too fast! He wanted to assess his future and plan it in his own way. If anyone would have predicted what was to happen to him a month ago, he would have turned to Jennifer and told her that the soothsayer was completely mad. The train of events in his life, in such a short space of time was outrageous. However, it had all come to pass and it appeared that there was a lot more to come yet.
At ten o’clock that evening, they assembled in a small room on the ground floor of the villa. It was enclosed, there were no windows, and a persistent sharp odour from the lacquer which covered the pine-clad walls prevailed. The only furniture in the room consisted of an oval table and six chairs, and there was a single light fitting in the ceiling which contained a bulb of exceedingly low wattage. When it was switched on, one could barely see the faces of those present illuminated in its dim light. Mama stared at her daughter, her two sons, Charles and a neighbour indicating for them to be seated.
‘forgive me if my words are directed to you alone,’ she told the banker. ‘We’re all experienced in this form of spiritual contact and we know what might happen. So my words are for you only.’
‘I understand,’ returned Charles. ‘Just tell me what I have to do and what’s going to happen.’
‘All we need to do is to hold hands. We all hold hands and concentrate our minds. Think of nothing else but your wife. Nothing else at all. All the energy and power of thought will pass through me and I’ll try to communicate with her in the spirit world. Sometimes there’s no contact but, if there is, the spirit speaks through me, Whatever happens, don’t break contact by pulling your hands away. It’s like an electric current running through a cable. If there’s a break everything stops. And no joking or laughing. Occasionally some foolish tourist think it all comical. Laughing spoils the concentration which means that contact may be lost. Is everyone ready?’
There were murmurs of consent all round and the participants in the seance reached out to take each other’s hands. Charles gave Rhona a brief smile before focussing his attention on Mama’s face. The elder woman closed her eyes and sat as still as a statue for some time, concentrating on reaching Jennifer in the spirit world. In due course, her voice could be heard in a gentle incantation but the words were uttered so quietly they could hardly be deciphered. The banker wasn’t certain whether he would feel calm or excited, serious or sceptical, or worried or untroubled. He did his best to focus the power of his mind on Jennifer, as he had been asked to do, but he found himself in a situation he had not expected. He suddenly wondered why he wanted to contact her in this way. If she spoke to him through a medium, it was far less effective than speaking to him in the middle ear in his bedroom. It was as though he was looking for the icing on the cake, except that he knew in his heart he would be disappointed. As Jennifer had been communicating with him there was nothing more for him to learn here. He couldn’t envisage having a conversation with her through a medium. That would be too bizarre! So what was the outcome to be? He didn’t know and such was his frame of mind, he began to dread finding out!
Mama’s breathing started to become erratic as the séance continued. Charles glanced at the faces of the others, his eyes becoming accustomed to the dim light. Everyone had closed their eyes to concentrate deeply on their inner thoughts. He decided to do likewise and thought of nothing else but the face of his lost wife. He recalled the two of them donning on their yellow oilskins in the hallway of their bungalow... the laughter that they shared t
ogether as they stared at each other thinking how ridiculous they looked in the bizarre outerwear... their short walk along the pavement with the dog tugging on the lead... the soft snow and ice beneath their feet... and the gentle drizzle that night which swept in from a westerly direction. Then there was the neighbour who had been taken into hospital. It was his illness that became the contributory factor leading to Jennifer’s death. If it hadn’t’ been for the man’s dog which they had taken out that evening, the accident would never have happened. His life would not have changed and his wife would still be alive. Last but not least was the blame that he laid at his own door. He should have held on to the dog’s lead more firmly before it raced across the road. Oddly enough, he felt somewhat sorry for the driver, even though the emotion was tinged with anger, for the rules of life meant that someone had to be blamed for Jennifer’s death. As a result of his rapid departure from the scene of the crime, there was no one against whom he could vent his anger. Hopefully, Roger Melford, the private detective, would discover the identity of the man. But what then? There was no advantage, no satisfaction, in taking revenge. It wouldn’t bring back Jennifer. So what was the point of it all? He remembered some of the world she had spoken to him. “I’m no longer Jennifer Roach. No longer the Jennifer you knew and loved as your wife. That person only exists in your mind and your memory. Better that you always think of me as a distant friend rather than a close wife and lover. Enjoy your days and your life, leaving only a brief memory of me.”!
He looked towards Rhona who was sitting with her back completely straight and her head held high, displaying a perfect profile. She was indeed a beautiful woman who was much attracted to him. He considered that he didn’t deserve such attention. He had certainly done nothing to encourage her but she was willing to offer him anything in the world to start a relationship with him. He could smell her subtle perfume over the scent of the pine-clad walls asit wafted gently across the room. Then, to his amazement, Rhona began to chant as she reached out into the spirit world. In the knowledge that she disliked séances, the banker wondered whether she was acting to counter the efforts of her mother, warning Jennifer to stay away, This was a part of the ceremony that Mama hadn’t explained to him. A short while later, one of the brothers began a similar chant to be joined in by the other one. Throughout the confines of the small room the noise rose gradually as each person contributed something in the attempt to reach Jennifer in the spirit world. After ten minutes, Charles believed that they were all wasting their time. Then everyone began to slow their chanting until there was silence in the room. Mama turned to him with disappointment on her face as all the hands separated on the table, disconnecting the all-important contact.
‘I’m sorry,’ she admitted sadly. ‘But she doesn’t seem to want to come to us.’
Charles stared at her with a doleful expression on his face but, in reality, he felt quite relieved. ‘Did we fail to concentrate hard enough?’ he asked. ‘
‘I actually reached the spirit world but she refused to speak with me,’ replied the medium wistfully. ‘She actually told me she didn’t want to say anything.’
‘And she was very determined about it,’ added Rhona. ‘That’s why Mama didn’t get any message.’
‘There were many other spirits willing to talk,’ the elder woman told him, ‘but they had no connection with you.’
‘Do you know of any reason why she didn’t want to talk?
The medium gave Rhona a brief glance and then turned towards him. ‘I wouldn’t tell anyone else this because it might be misinterpreted. But I’m going to tell you as you’re our guest. She told me that she didn’t want to use her energy because she’s saving it up for one final effort.’
The banker seemed completely perplexed. ‘To do what?’
Rhona took his hand into her own. ‘That’s the problem, Charles, Mama and I both asked her but she refused to say. Just one final effort, she kept saying. Until it happens, none of us will be the wiser.’
He turned to the elder medium desperately. ‘You’ve had a lot of experience in these matters. What do you thin it might be?’
The woman shrugged her shoulders aimlessly. ‘I’ve never come across anything like this before. It’s best not to be speculative. You’ll just have to wait and see.’
She rose from her chair and they all followed suit. Rhona led him to the lounge where they sat down disconsolately. She poured out two glasses of win, handing one to him. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,’ she quoted steadily.
‘Uneasy’s the word!’ He lifted his glass to clink it against hers. ‘During the séance I was thinking of some of the things my late wife told me over the past few days. She told me she was no longer Jennifer and that she was just a memory. She asked me to forget her and get on with my life. I think that after her final act... whatever it might be... I’ll be able to settle down without grief or remorse. I’ll get closure. Do you know I actually hired a private detective to track down the hit-and-run driver!’
‘I know,’ responded Rhona, sipping her wine.
He stared at her with surprise. ‘How do you know?’
‘Jennifer told me. She told me a lot of things about you.’
‘I thought she refused to say anything!’
‘To Mama, yes, but she spoke to me briefly about her life. She told me to look after you and to love you. Do you understand what I’m saying, Charles?’
He smiled at her suspiciously. ‘Don’t play games with me, Rhona,’ he reproached sharply. I’ll make a decision about your proposition in a day or two. Don’t use Jennifer as a lever to influence me!’
Her face showed that she was hurt by his comment. ‘I told you once before,’ she countered defensively, ‘I’m not devious. I would never use Jennifer to influence you!’
He looked at her sheepishly realising his error. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.’
‘I’ll prove it to you,’ she went on firmly. ‘I’ll prove to you that she spoke to me and said those things.’ He shrugged his shoulders as if disinterested, clearly sceptical of anything she might present to him. ‘She told me to go to a florist and buy a yucca plant.’ The blood in his veins seemed to turn to ice. He held on to his wife glass firmly to prevent it from slipping from his hands to shatter on to the mosaic floor tiles. ‘She told me to put a message in the place to read: ”Yucca, Charlie, yucca!” Does that make any sense to you?’
The banker went pale. There had to be a logical explanation for the revelation. Either Rhona Paphos could read his mind or she had actually received the message from Jennifer... and it was highly likely that the latter was true!
Chapter Fourteen
Purdy’s vehicle cut through the early evening’s darkness with his headlights blazing a train. It raced with ferocity, emulating a monster searching for prey in the blackness. It moved with great force intimidating other drivers who dared come too closely to it, or who made any attempt to overtake it and cross his path. The truck driver regarded all other motorists with contempt. He was the knight of the road with a truck which knew of no equal. Unlike the previous journey, a ridge of high pressure had settled over the country causing the heavy rain to pass over to the Continent. However it was far too soon to sit back and smile for he shortly came face to face with the truck driver’s greatest enemy... fog! Worse than the rain or snow, irrespective how fiercely such conditions affected driving, the windscreen wipers could do little in the presence of fog. It could not be brushed away. It hung like a close grey cloud in varying thickness on stretches of the motorway sometimes only cut adequately by the fog lamps attached to the front of his vehicle. It was at times like these when he relied on luck and judgement to get to his destination. Peering through the windscreen, he could barely see the white lines marking the lane in which his vehicle was proceeding. Everything relied on the traffic maintaining the same level of speed without falling ba
ck. It was essential for a steady smooth flow. If a car or lorry ahead suddenly slowed, he had to rely on seeing it fast enough to put his foot on the brake to avoid an accident. The problem was that if he failed to continue the journey at a relatively high speed, he would never reach the target depot and return in a reasonable time. Brenda was on his mind and he knew that she had a late shift at Consolidated Stores.
He drove with his eyes fixed firmly on the rear of the vehicle in front of him... his mind in a state of animated suspension ... ready to act immediately if anything untoward occurred. It suited him well because he could allow his thoughts to run wild about the seductive Katy Morrell. For some strange reason, he was never concerned that she roamed the streets at night as a prostitute. With any other woman he would have turned up his nose and made adverse comments... but not with Katy. She represented someone special to him and he could never find fault with anything she di. No doubt she would be surprised to learn that his wife had left him, especially when he declared that there was no chance of reconciliation. He could be with Katy with impunity sharing her time, her company and her bed. As his mind touched the contours of her naked body, his thoughts brushed sensitively against her soft skin. The idea excited him so much that he shifted in his seat to make himself more comfortable as his hormones prepared him in advance for a sexual relationship with her before its actual occurrence. They could live together sharing a brilliant physical experience for a short period of time. However, he would insist that she stopped going out at night looking for men to seduce for money. She would have to change her way of life. Then, when he returned to London eventually, she could go back to it. Prostitution was not the kind of business where a woman got rusty. Katy was very understanding of men. He was in no doubt that she would agree with his plan. When he felt like a change, he would travel south and take up with Brenda at Consolidated Stores. That union would certainly be a feisty one. She would fight for giving up her honour being extremely spirited and their relationship was bound to be lively. He relished the change after comparing her with Wendy, his wife, who bore the pants off him in bed. They had no children during their marriage which was hardly surprising. He once told a friend in a bar that whenever his wife opened her legs, a light went on... like a refrigerator. Now he had sketched out a new life for himself and it was going to be fun, with women, wine and song! Short-haul deliveries would be his new line of income and, without heavy payments to the bank, they belonged to him alone. Furthermore, there was no need to save for the future... there was nothing to save for! He had waited a long time for his share of rewards in life; now it seemed they had arrived!