As I shower and dress I keep thinking about what Sheena said. She’s right in one way, as I am lonely, and yet it isn’t easy for me to open up to new people. The crowd I work with in my day job have no idea that I’m a medium and I need to keep it that way. It’s less complicated and means that I’m not dragged into awkward conversations. There are three different points of view: those who believe, those who don’t, and those in the middle. People who don’t believe often feel they have to challenge you the moment it comes up in conversation. I refuse to be drawn into those sorts of discussions as it can become very heated. People start going on about proof, as if that means something. It makes me shake my head, although I should know better and that it’s simply not their time to gain an understanding. It becomes annoying though, to say the least.
That leaves me with only my personal life to talk about. As my psychic work takes up the vast majority of my time outside of the office, there’s little I can meaningfully discuss. I need to have some sort of life and the only way I’m ever going to do that is to socialise. I need to mix with normal people. The thought of having Ethan as a friend sort of defeats the purpose but, then again, it’s probably safer. The more I think about it, the more I see that maybe I should let down my guard a little when I’m with him.
I push any thoughts of Alex away. I’ve learnt that I can’t allow myself to let him seep back into my thoughts for even one moment, because he is my Achilles heel.
***
“Oh, you’ve dressed up,” Ethan says as he steps through the door.
I instinctively put my hand up to my hair, wishing I hadn’t bothered to scoop it up into a clip. Perhaps it looks a little too formal.
“I thought with the rain I’d play safe. I don’t want to end up looking like I’ve been dragged through a bush backwards.” I laugh to cover my self-consciousness. Ethan doesn’t usually make personal comments
“Don’t mind me, I was teasing.” He steps inside, looking rather uncomfortable.
“Where are we heading?” I grab my bag and begin slipping on my coat. Ethan steps forward to hold it for me.
My heart misses a beat. If this is a date, I’m not sure I’m ready…despite mulling things over after Sheena’s little talk.
“The other side of town. It’s a twenty-minute drive to Charlton Hall, which is a great venue, and there will be drinks and canapés.” He holds open the door for me and follows behind. As I lock the door he bends to pick up my bag which I dropped at my feet, and stands there holding it for me. When I take it from him with an awkward thanks, our hands touch and I freeze.
I look up at him: he’s at least a foot taller than me and I wish I’d worn heels instead of flat shoes. As we walk to the car he makes polite conversation, and I wonder if he’s regretting asking me along. It doesn’t flow easily, but I think that’s more to do with the fact that I feel so self-conscious.
“Look, Ceri,” he says, stopping to turn around and gaze down at me. He frowns, furrowing his brow as if he’s battling with a tough decision. “I hope I didn’t put you on the spot about tonight. I genuinely think this will be an interesting talk, but there’s another reason why I called you. I sometimes struggle to have normal friendships, with women. Heck, that makes me sound like I’m some crazy guy. What I mean is—”
I put up my hand to stop him. “I know exactly what you mean. It’s the same for me. In fact, my best friend has been lecturing me about it today. Being serious all the time makes for a dull life, but in our line of work that isn’t easy. We are both in the same position, Ethan, so let’s not feel awkward. Everything happens for a reason, so let’s enjoy an evening out. Drinks and canapés sound perfect to me, and I’m actually very interested in learning more about stages of sleep.” I give him a rueful smile, and he laughs out aloud.
“I’m not much good at this, am I?” he jests.
It’s enough to clear the air and we manage to chat away quite happily on the drive. He tells me a bit about his family and his ex. He has one son who is six and he really misses him, as he only manages to see him in the school holidays. His partner moved back to be with her family and it’s a five hour journey each time he visits.
“I’m sorry it’s so messy.” I genuinely feel for him.
“How about you? Are you surviving?” He glances at me and then looks straight at the rear view mirror as he indicates and pulls into a car park.
“I manage one day at a time. Sheena thinks I’ve closeted myself away, and I have to say that loneliness is an awful thing. But sometimes it’s easier than having to put all that effort into making new friends. Sorry, I wasn’t referring to you, of course. I suppose it’s different though, as we know quite a bit about each other already. It’s easier filling in the gaps, if you follow my drift. You probably know more about the other side of me than even Sheena does. That does feel a bit strange, but it’s actually a good thing.”
He raises one eyebrow as if I’ve said something surprising. “Couldn’t have put it better myself. We oddballs have to stick together.”
The easy banter continues as we head inside. It’s a large Georgian house set on probably an acre of land. It’s now used entirely for corporate functions by the looks of it. The car park is huge and well laid out. We enter a grand reception area, and there are three different talks taking place. We drop our coats off at the cloakroom and wander through in search of The Clarence Suite.
I’m actually quite pleased that I took a little trouble with my appearance and opted for a little black dress. Ethan looks smart but casual in his jeans, pale blue shirt, and navy jacket. We check the meetings board and the talk is in one of the side rooms on the ground floor. The room can probably hold around eighty people. It has an enormous glass chandelier hanging elegantly from the ceiling, which is slightly off centre. It’s clear this was originally one half of a much larger room. I think it would have been a magnificent ballroom once. On the other side of what is now a dividing wall is probably an exact mirror image of this room.
“Great place, isn’t it?” Ethan stoops to whisper into my ear, but I notice he doesn’t move in too close. He grabs two tulip-stemmed glasses off a silver tray and nods for me to move on into the room to find a seat. “Over there, on the right? Near the back, just in case it’s boring and we can slope off early.”
I shush him as a few heads turn and look in our direction, but I don’t think anyone heard what he said. His voice is quite deep and he is an attractive looking man, I’ve noticed women often look his way. His height too, gives him an instant presence.
“Well.” He settles into his seat and has to push his chair back to accommodate his legs. “Thanks for coming along, Ceri. I hope it’s going to be worthwhile.” He hands me a glass and we both take a sip, then immediately place our glasses under our chairs. Trying not to grimace, he shrugs his shoulders and heads off, returning with two glasses of orange juice instead.
The talk is fascinating. Professor Karl Shultz is impressive. I will admit that when we looked at the three events displayed on the board in reception: Sleep Disorders, Keeping Fit & Active over 60 and Marketing & Consumerism, I was tempted to turn around and keep walking. I immediately assumed that this was going to be a rather dry presentation with lots of pie charts, statistics and references to detailed research work. Well, it was all of those things in small measure, but this man is completely fascinating to listen to and watch. His body and hands never stop moving. He’s passionate about the subject and his energy, and aura, is incredible. His vibration level in the ethereal world must surely be on a par with my own, although clearly he isn’t an angel. He’s simply an energy who has been working here on earth for a long time.
Stress is a direct result of the way life here works. It doesn’t exist anywhere else, and the moment Karl Shultz steps out onto the small raised platform at the front of the room, I connect with him. He probably doesn’t sense it: his ethereal side is reserved for deep sleep, and the irony of that isn’t lost on me. His work is obviously to educate people and try to alleviate some of the unnecessary suffering. I glance at Ethan to gauge his reaction. Clearly he’s impressed, although I’m not so sure he can see everything in quite the same way I can.
Whilst a great deal of the talk revolves around sleep disorders, his introduction gives detailed background on the various stages of sleep. I have to stifle a laugh, wondering if he will mention that it is only in deep sleep that we all return to the ethereal plane. I give Ethan a sideways glance at that point and he has to turn away from me, as a laugh is brewing. He comes back with a glare that says behave yourself.
I’ve never really understood the differences between the various stages of sleep. I suppose I look at it simplistically. You are either asleep or you are awake.
Professor Shultz explained that originally there were four non-REM stages, with REM being the fifth stage. However, over time two of the stages were combined. The science of how it works had never interested me before; but as he continued it explained many of the problems I’d experienced when working with people via their dreams. Much of the healing and guidance I do happens in the non-REM stages, as these can be remembered by the individual. What happens in the REM stage cannot, simply because this is one of the rules of the universe. Science seems to bear this out, without understanding the reasoning behind it.
What I’d often assumed was someone withdrawing from me, was in fact a part of the natural sleep process taking them further away from me and towards REM sleep. They weren’t being unreceptive, but were simply affected by rhythmic brain activity, their heart rate slowing and their muscles relaxing as they moved through the sleep cycle. We exit the room after a wild round of well-deserved applause. I turn to Ethan and start saying how impressed I am and how glad I am that he invited me along, when the look on his face stops me mid-sentence. I turn to follow his gaze and am stunned to see Alex standing a few feet away. He looks shocked and very pale. The eye contact between the three of us is frantic. No one knows how to react. Ethan pulls himself together and turns me around, gently leading me outside.
My legs don’t want to work and he ends up putting his arm around my waist to support me. I turn my head to look back at Alex, but one glimpse and he’s gone. I lean into Ethan in despair.
Ethan leads me to a quiet bench and then heads back inside. He returns with two glasses of wine.
“Here,” he places a glass firmly in my hand, “you need this. I’m sorry about that Ceri, I had no idea Alex would be here. It wasn’t planned, this wasn’t a trap. Alex is devastated, I can’t believe this has happened. He assumed I’d taken you to a psychic talk and he told me he was working. He is, I just didn’t know it was at the marketing talk here tonight.”
I can feel he’s mad with himself, but there’s also something else: confusion. Everything happens for a reason, but why now, when the pain is beginning to lessen? Well, I say that lightly, as if it means something. It doesn’t, but after all these months you learn to quietly accept what you can’t change. Poor, poor Alex.
Ethan’s mobile kicks into life and he checks the caller ID. He rolls his eyes. “Sorry, I have to answer this, it’s Jess”. He immediately stands and begins pacing back and forth. Clearly it’s not good news. The call ends and he walks back towards me looking ashen.
“My son has been admitted to hospital with suspected appendicitis. They are taking him down to the operating theatre now.” He stands there, not sure what to do.
“Go. Your son needs you. I can call a taxi. You have a long journey and you will want to be there when he wakes up.”
Ethan looks relieved. He thanks me and leans forward to kiss my cheek. “I hate leaving you like this,” he admits, and I can see he feels torn. Something else is unsettling him, but I give him a hug and say “Go. Be a daddy.”
I sit for a while after Ethan’s car disappears out of the car park. I can’t face drinking the wine and walk back inside with it. I approach the reception desk to book a taxi and within a minute or two a small queue forms. Another of the talks has just finished. A woman standing directly behind me in the queue touches my arm, and leans forward. She asks whether I would mind sharing, she’s overheard me giving my address and says she lives on the other side of the park.
“I don’t like travelling on my own at night,” she offers, apologetically. It’s rather nice to have some company and I ask the driver to drop me off on the corner of the street, bidding my companion goodbye.
I walk slowly, deep in thought. As I approach the building I begin searching for my keys and when I turn my head to delve inside my bag, I glimpse a shadow. I snap back into the moment and begin walking a little faster. It’s hard to tell, without turning around and staring, whether this is a real person or a spirit. The traffic on the main road obscures the sound of footfall, despite the lateness of the hour. It isn’t fear I’m feeling though, no, it’s something very different that I can’t quite explain. I hurry inside the building and close the door firmly behind me, but as I step into the lift I hear the door click open. Whoever it is has the security code, so I relax a little, but the feeling in the pit of my stomach remains, like a ball of nervous energy.
The front door to the apartment opens on the first turn of the key and I step inside, feeling slightly breathless. For some unexplained reason I don’t reach for the light switch. I drop my bag and jacket on the floor and stand for a moment in the twilight. The moonlight streaming in through the sitting room windows filters into the hallway. I realise the door didn’t click behind me and I wonder why I was so careless, but my feet refuse to move. I could easily push it shut, simply by stretching out my hand, but something prevents me, even when I see a shadow hovering in the hallway. It steps inside. The door closes and I find myself standing within inches of the one man I can’t resist.
We don’t speak. Alex wraps his arms around me and pushes me gently back against the wall. His mouth is hot on my neck and I find myself holding my breath. My legs feel shaky and I’m glad to have the wall behind me for support. His body presses up tight against mine and there isn’t one part of my body that isn’t on fire.
As our lips find each other, I close my eyes and the voice is in my head. “Be careful, you are doing the work of an angel, but you have the temptations of a mortal.” It’s real enough for me to know I’m being guided, but every single cell in my body is screaming I want this, I need this man…
Alex scoops me up into his arms and carries me through to the bedroom. He lays me gently on the bed and stands over me. Even in the gloom I can see his face is full of love and passion. As I tug off my clothes, he drops his shirt on the floor and our eyes don’t leave each other for a second. It seems like moments before we are lying next to each other and this isn’t about right or wrong, fate or making mistakes. Rules mean nothing. This is about us and at this precise moment it’s bigger than fate or the universe. Like a thief in the night, Alex has stolen my heart again, but this time he’s taken my soul as well. Whatever the price I’m going to have to pay, it doesn’t matter anymore.
***
We awake just before dawn. I’m not sure who stirs first, but suddenly our eyes are open and we’re gazing at each other. Not one single word has passed our lips in the time we’ve been together. Words are inadequate, and what could we say to each other? We both sit up and I look at Alex nervously. He looks back at me with sad eyes, full of sorrow and pain. He leans forward, kisses my forehead and within minutes he’s dressed and walking out the door.
I am incapable of moving, so full of distress at the emptiness he’s left behind him. Not just from the loss of his physical presence, but the love and desire that filled this room which is now totally desolate. My body still tingles with the joy of loving the only man with whom I can be whole. The places he touched, the kisses and caresses, already memories of pleasure that might never be revisited. My mind relives the feel of his body, the warmth of his skin and the firmness of taught muscle as passion swept us both away. I let out a wail, like an animal in distress, and the sound is barely human. If the ethereal plane hasn’t already registered my transgression, it will sense my pain now. My heart has been wrenched from my body yet again and I don’t know how much more I can take. I shiver, as it dawns on me that I did nothing. I let him walk away…I let him walk out of my life as if he doesn’t belong. Just a thief in the night.