A Vision of Green (Florence Vaine #2) (14 page)

“
Albert Dean wants to let you know that he's glad you've found a good husband to share your life and raise children with.” Bill pauses, as though listening to an invisible speaker. “He's making reference to a box, it could be a shoebox that you store things in, or perhaps an old jewellery box,” he prompts.

“
I have a jewellery box,” Rachel tells him. “I keep it in my wardrobe at home. What's he saying about it?”

“
He's telling me that you keep your memories in that box. Things that remind you of the past and signify various stages you've been through in your life.”

“
Don't all women keep jewellery boxes?” Frank whispers to me. He's right, most women do, nonetheless I'm eager to know where Bill's going with this.

“
Well I have a lot of old jewellery in there, I suppose the different pieces do represent different stages because I wore them all at various times in my life,” Rachel agrees.

Bills nods and a beatific smile forms on his face. “He's so glad to know you can find solace in those items. He says it's very important that you remember where you came from and where you're going in life. He wants you to never forget who you are, because you have always been very special to him, and even after he was gone he took great joy in watching you grow up from his place in the after life.”

At this Rachel takes a tissue from her purse and dabs lightly at the tears that have sprung up in her eyes.

“
Don't cry dear, Albert is at peace. He can rest easily now that he's passed his message on to you. He's pulling away from me. He sends his love.”

Rachel dabs at her eyes even more frantically and stands up to embrace Bill. He takes her into his arms and willingly returns the hug. The contentment in Rachel's aura astounds me, it also makes me think that maybe even if Bill
is
spinning her a lie, it's not like he's hurting her. He's only giving her something to hold onto. Even if there's no heaven or hell in the way humans perceive them, at least she'll live the rest of her life with the peace of believing that death isn't the end. If all of Bill's readings turn out like this one then I suppose he's not doing anything too bad in the grand scheme of things.

Another woman comes forward now, and the whole process starts all over again. This time Bill claims to be making contact with the woman's deceased sister who died when she was only in her early twenties. He actually provides some spot on details, such as the fact that she died of complications after giving birth to a premature baby.

Frank suggests that Bill probably heard the story from one of the woman's friends or from someone else in the group in a passing conversation and then decided to use the information in his reading. I'm still not so sure. I pick up on one or two small mistakes, but Bill explains them away by saying that there's something blocking the energy. Whatever that means.

He does two more readings before he says that the spirits have withdrawn from him for the night, but that he'll be glad to organise private readings this week for anyone who still wants to commune with the other side.

Frank shakes his head. “Always leave them wanting more.”

“
I've been s-studying his aura, it's so frustrating because I really can't tell whether or not he's lying.”

“
Come to a few more sessions and you'll eventually see the truth. He got a lot of hits tonight, he was lucky. I've come once or twice and I've seen him crash and burn. Whenever that happens he either blames the person he's doing the reading for by saying they're somehow blocking him with negative energy, or that the membrane between the spirit world and our own is too thick for him to penetrate at that moment in time.”

“
I wish there was some way we could know for certain,” I mutter to myself just as Hayley comes and ushers me from my seat to the front of the room.

It all happens too quickly for me to get nervous, but Frank smiles and gives me a reassuring look which settles me enough to brave whatever's going to happen next. Hayley introduces me to the room and everyone seems to be very welcoming. She asks who would like to have a reading from me and one of the men present raises his hand.

He's medium height with dark brown hair and a narrow build. He smiles as he comes to sit before me, but he has bags underneath his eyes that show how exhausted he is. I don't even have to glance at his aura to know he's got some kind of sleeping disorder, which immediately causes me to emote to him. I know what it's like to suffer sleepless nights and bad dreams.

“
Hi I'm Flo, w-what's your name?” I ask as he lightly shakes my hand. His palms are sweaty, he must be nervous.

“
Derek,” he replies, “it's nice to meet you.”

I get comfortable in my seat and then take a look at his aura. It's a very dark shade of blue, which can be indicative of fear or frustration. It's not his true colour. I sense that his aura is naturally a light turquoise, but for some reason life's traumas have caused it to transform, and not for the better. I normally see turquoise auras in the most sensitive of people, people who feel their emotions a lot more strongly than others. Big hearted types.

I ask Derek if he minds if I hold his hand.

“
Not at all,” he says and places his pale fingers upon mine. I'm coming to learn that skin contact is best for getting a read on people. I discovered this mostly because of what Frank told me about me calming him when I touch him. Touching people enables me to home in on their psyche, on what they're feeling in that very moment.

Outwardly Derek looks calm enough, but on the inside he's panicking. Panicking in case I can really see into his emotions and discover what a mess he is, but also because he's worried he might be too far gone to be helped. God, I know how that feels. At least once a day I think of my stammer and wonder if I'm stuck with it for life.

“
You haven't been sleeping, h-h-have you?” I question, and I think I hear Bill make a slight noise to my left. Something in the manner of a derisive snort.

I try to ignore him and concentrate on Derek, but I don't miss the whispered comment he makes to Lucinda who's sitting beside him. “Obviously the man hasn't been sleeping, all you have to do is look at the bags beneath his eyes for Christ's sake.”

Bill's criticism freezes me, and I blink a few times to try and centre my focus back on Derek's aura. In the corner of my eye I see Frank rise from his seat and go to stand behind Bill's chair. He leans down and mutters something that looks a lot like a warning into the medium's ear. Bill's face pales and he nods to Frank with wide eyes. Frank returns to his seat, seeming satisfied. What on earth did he say to him?

I look back at Derek and begin to speak. “You have trouble with expressing yourself, with telling people what you really f-f-feel. You keep things to yourself and they eat you up from the inside out. You're frustrated because you feel like you're letting your fear consume you. You're afraid that life is passing you by because you haven't got the courage to stand up and take what you want when it's standing right in front of you.” I pause to take a breath, the words seem to tumble from my mouth before I've properly thought them through. Like my ability has a radar and it reads all of the information in Derek's aura, transmitting it back to me so that my mouth can give it meaning, give it sound.

Derek's hazel eyes get huge in his thin face. He looks like he doesn't know whether to hug me or to run away screaming.

“
Your aura is dark b-b-blue Derek, that tells me a lot of things a-about you. It shouldn't be dark blue though, it should be turquoise, bright turquoise. I can't tell you what might have happened in your l-l-life to have caused it to mutate from its natural tone, but I'm guessing it's all got to do with your fear and how you let it shape your actions. You've got a lot of frustration in there too, do you want me to try and restore it for you?”

Derek doesn't say a word, and it worries me because I can't tell if he understands what I'm telling him. If I'm reading him right at all. He doesn't do anything for several seconds, but then ever so slightly he nods his head in the affirmative.

I glance at him and he looks positively terrified. “It's okay, this isn't going to hurt or anything,” I say to reassure him. It's odd being the one doing the reassuring, but it actually feels really good. Like I've suddenly found my true calling. A calling to make people feel better. To restore their emotions after they've been broken or shattered.

Normally I have to concentrate on patches of discolouration in an aura in order to heal it, but Derek's whole entire colour is off, so I'm going to have to concentrate all of my energy on changing it back. I close my eyes and imagine the vibrant turquoise he would have been born with. There isn't even a hint of it left in the dark blue, but some strange instinct inside of me is pulling at me, chanting the true nature of Derek's aura so that I can change it back. Turquoise, turquoise, turquoise. Bright. Light. Free. Restore. Make better. Obliterate the pollution.

Half of their own accord and half because I will them to, my hands begin to move over the outline of Derek's body. I stand up and walk around him, then pull him up too so that I can gain better access to every part of his aura.

His eyes are closed, but the lines that had once marked his forehead and the sides of his mouth are already beginning to fade as I put his colours back to rights. Worry lines are receding, as is the dark blue. I'm not touching his body at all. I'm making such a difference but nobody else can see. The blue shrinks and dies away as the turquoise blasts out and surrounds him like a brand new protective shell. Derek falls back down into his seat and holds his head in his hands. Oh God, did I hurt him?

His body starts shaking and my heart sinks, because it looks like he's crying. But then I hear the tittering and he raises his face to me, he's smiling, laughing. His expression is full of happiness. I can't believe it, I can't believe I did it.

“
H-h-how do you feel?” I ask tentatively.

Derek coughs to clear his throat. He's stopped laughing now, but his smile is serene. “I haven't felt so good in years,” he tells me. “How...how did you do it? You have to tell me.”

I step back a little because his eagerness takes me by surprise. The room is completely silent, every person's attention is focused on Derek and me.

“
The feelings, the anxiety and the fear that used to burn my insides is gone. Gone entirely. I don't understand. It's a miracle.”

His overly enthusiastic reaction is a little off putting, and his eyes are too manic. This might have been a very big mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have shown what I can do in such a public arena as this. Somebody's hand rests on my shoulder and it causes me to jump. But I turn around and it's only Frank.

His eyes are levelled on Derek. “Okay mate, it's time to calm down now. Flo helped you, that's all you need to know. So quit pestering her with questions.”

Frank's expression must be stern or frightening in some way, because Derek startles at his words and backs away immediately. “Yes, you're right. I'm sorry for acting like this it's just I never expected it to work so well. You've got a real talent Flo. A truly real talent.”

I can almost feel the jealousy and outrage pulsing from Bill as he watches the whole display. I guess I did manage to steal his limelight after all.

Hayley stands up and claps her hands together. “Okay folks, I think that's a rap for the night. Same time next week, yes? Bring your friends if they're interested, we always like to see new faces. Thanks for coming, we hope you can all manage to take something important away with you from the evening, whether you made a breakthrough with a reading or simply came to watch.”

Those in attendance begin getting up to leave, but I notice a few people gather in a group to talk to Hayley. I stand beside Frank and listen as they all express their wishes to book me for private sessions. Good God, I don't know if I'm ready for that.

Bill puts on a jacket while talking in hushed tones to Lucinda and eyeing me at the same time.

Frank's rubs both of my shoulders and asks, “You okay? You seem a little spooked.”

For a moment I don't answer, and almost instinctively I lean into his touch and close my eyes. I feel drained after working on Derek, and the soothing motions of Frank's hands are all I want to concentrate on in this moment. I feel his lips brush my hair as he says, “Come here,” and turns me around before settling me under the crook of his arm. I really shouldn't be doing this. Taking comfort in Frank is selfish of me, but I can't seem to think past how good it feels. How right.