Numb with shock, Kate blinks open her eyes, her blurred gaze slowly clearing and focussing on the fly spots on the door architrave. She feels a warm heaviness on her stomach — her ginger tom, that stirs and makes a rattly purring deep in his chest. Reaching awkwardly for her phone, Kate observes she has lived a lifetime in just under two hours.
While she lies in bed thinking about her visitation into a realm where time does not exist, she wonders if the events of her life as Lilith has any bearing on her unexplained fear of bonfires. Even more disconcerting is her realisation that the savage events of her ancient lifetime could be linked to her lack of interest in sex. But would the events of Lilith’s life have influenced her present life in such an intimate and personal way?
◊.◊.◊
‘As earlier stated, psychic memory systematically collects genetic records of past events and transfers the records into the genetic memory of the cells of the individual’s new physical form. It is your psychic heritage.’
The suddenness of the Italian Russian man’s voice makes her jump. ‘Wait. Who are you?’ Kate asks.
The long pause indicates he is gone. Kate feels disappointed but hopes she will hear from him again. She brushes the cat off, swings her legs out of bed and stands up.
The voice is crystal clear. ‘You may call me Gaius; my original name. Although I loathe the term, ‘spirit’, for the sake of simplicity I will use it. I am an entity in spirit form, who, over many incarnations, walked upon your Earth.’
Kate stands stock-still, straining her ears for any further comment. A minute or two passes, then she hears the front door key being turned in the lock.
‘I bought milk, bread, marmite, avos, and tomatoes,’ Melody calls out in a singsong voice. ‘We can eat breakfast.’
Damn.
◊.◊.◊
‘What did you do last night?’ Kate’s flatmate asks between mouthfuls.
‘Stayed in. Why?’
Melody sips her tea and makes an ‘aah’ sound that really annoys Kate, then places her mug back down. ‘You should get out more.’
‘I’m okay.’ Kate doesn’t want to get into a similar conversation to the one she had at work with Ashlee.
‘Kate, you have the longest legs and boobs to die for. You don’t even see the way guys look at you.’
‘Oh, I do,’ Kate replies without sounding arrogant. ‘I’m just not interested at the moment.’
Melody stops chewing and stares. ‘Are you more interested in …’
‘Oh God no!’ Kate says, then berates herself for sounding judgmental. ‘I have nothing against gays. I’ll get out soon. Don’t worry about it.’
Her flatmate grins and takes another bite of her marmite, tomato and mashed avocado on toast. ‘I know Jason fancies you.’
Kate pictures Melody’s grandmother’s lawnmower man whose trade is in roofing, who reroofed Melody’s grandmother’s house last month. Since his split from his wife he has been at a loose end, and mows the grandmother’s lawns every other weekend. ‘Yeah, he’s not bad, eh. There must be something wrong with him though. Why did he and his wife split up?’
‘She was sleeping with her boss.’
‘Oh, right. Poor guy.’ Kate chides herself for jumping to conclusions. She’s always shied away from divorcees, worried about the baggage they could bring into the relationship.
‘Would you like me to put in a good word?’
Kate feels an unexpected twinge. She gets up and boils the jug for another cup of tea. ‘Sure, why not.’
◊.◊.◊
When her phone rings the next afternoon, Kate stares at the unrecognisable number. Then, with butterflies in her stomach, she answers it. It is Jason.
◊.◊.◊
Over dinner, Kate and Jason drink wine and talk nonstop, the tension behind her eyes easing and the knots in her neck unsnarling. While he speaks, Kate admires him. His mass of hair, the unruly swirl the colour of dark beer, falls sexily about his face. His broad shoulders speak volumes to Kate of what he’d be like in bed. The thought surprises her and throws her off balance. Distracted, she looks down and away and plays with her hair.
Jason notices her discomfit. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Oh, yes, fine,’ she says, blushing, and utters a short laugh. Jason’s hazel-brown eyes peering closely at her face does nothing to ease her agitation. She feels her tension headache returning.
Jason fiddles with a knob on the stereo on the way home looking for a station while his other hand manoeuvres the steering wheel. A 1980s song comes on they both knew in high school, and together they sing and bob their heads along with the familiar beat. Kate smiles and relaxes while Jason drapes his free arm across her shoulder, the movement giving off a faint scent of soap that smells like vanilla. When Kate feels the touch of his thumb lightly stroke the nape of her neck, a warm thrill goes through her body.
◊.◊.◊
After their third date, Kate and Jason become intimate. It blows everything out of the water. The blocks have vanished.
She thinks about what she learnt from reading the regression therapy book, about once a subconsciously-embedded trauma comes to light, the effects of the trauma miraculously disappear.
Like magic, Kate thinks dreamily, and cuddles into her new boyfriend.
◊.◊.◊
‘Grandma can’t believe how happy Jason is now. ‘The boy used to be as gloomy as a graveyard on a wet Sunday,’ she said.’ Melody’s saucy grin makes Kate burst into laughter.
‘Oh, well, you know, gotta please the boy,’ Kate says, finding it hard to keep a straight face. There is no way she is about to tell her flatmate the real reason why she is in such high spirits.
‘When’s the wedding?’ Melody asks, and they both laugh.
◊.◊.◊
Finding time lately to do her own thing has become slightly bothersome. Tonight, Kate makes an excuse to Jason why she won’t be joining him for dinner. She soaks in the bath for ages, turning on the hot water tap with her toes every few minutes, before she becomes conscious of the fact that there may be no hot water left for her flatmate when she comes home.
Once she’s in bed with her phone, she presses play on the audio app, slips the phone under her pillow, and Shakti Gawain’s fluid voice filters through the pillow to her ears.
◊.◊.◊
Kate perceives herself in the body of a fourteen-year-old girl on a Portuguese island.