Love at Second Sight (10 page)

‘Er . . . Fiona. Do you think we could try a past life regression today?’ I asked. ‘It might help answer some questions for me.’

Fiona regarded me for a few moments. ‘We can see where this session takes us but as I said, it only happens if it’s going to be useful if the time is right. But we can see how far
back your unconscious is willing to take you if you wish.’ She got up and went towards the door. ‘I want to check with your mum that she’s happy if we do this. OK?’

‘Sure,’ I replied. I was certain Mum wouldn’t object, in fact she’d probably want to have a go herself when she heard that Fiona did regressions. Like Effy, it was the
sort of thing she’d be well into, and indeed, Fiona was back a few minutes later.

‘She says whatever might help,’ she said.

‘Can you bring me back at any point if I don’t like it?’ I asked. I felt nervous but also excited to be trying something different. Although Tash and Effy tease me about being
a cynic, it’s not that. I like hard facts. Evidence. That’s why I like science. I enjoy the research of it. Proving a hypothesis. A past life regression could be an interesting
experiment but it also felt like a leap into the unknown.

Fiona nodded. ‘Nothing can happen without you wanting it to happen. You’ll be in control all the time just like our other sessions.’

I’ll probably fall asleep as always,
I thought as I settled down.

‘I’d like to record the session if that’s OK with you,’ said Fiona. ‘Partly for research purposes and partly because, depending on what comes up, clients find it
useful to listen to what has gone on when they are in trance.’

‘Fine by me,’ I said.

Fiona found the recording equipment then sat on a chair beside me and told me to close my eyes. ‘Let’s start by focusing on your recurring dream and not try to force the regression
but we’ll see where the session takes us. Is that OK?’

I nodded and she began to talk me through the usual countdown. I found it soothing to listen to her soft voice as she asked me to concentrate on my breathing and, after a few minutes, I began to
feel myself relaxing. I trusted her not only because of her manner but also because Mum had thoroughly looked into her training before she let me see her. ‘I don’t want you seeing a
whack job,’ Mum’d said when she’d first suggested the sessions. ‘Or one of these people who do a weekend course then set themselves up as practitioners and start playing
with people’s minds without the proper training or experience.’

‘Good, very good,’ Fiona said. ‘Keep focusing on your breath, Jo, six, starting to feel very peaceful, five, your body growing heavy, four, your breathing is slow and easy and
free, three, you’re safe and warm, two, relaxed, floating . . .’

I was vaguely aware of Fiona’s voice droning on in the background. I felt as if I was falling asleep and she instructed me to imagine that I was in a lift, going down, down, down.
‘The lift door opens, you see steps, going down. You start to go down them, down, down . . . completely at ease. Now I want you to go back to a time when the dream first started, but only if
it feels right. If it feels safe to do so. It might be this life, might be a past one. Tell me, Jo, what do you see?’

I shook my head. I couldn’t see anything. It was misty. Was I supposed to visualise something apart from steps? My mind felt foggy.

‘Where are you, Jo?’

‘I don’t know,’ I replied.
I’m here on your couch in the clinic in Highgate,
said my mind but I didn’t feel like I had the energy to say that. My body felt
heavy, so relaxed. I followed Fiona’s voice as she told me to go down more steps, ‘. . . down, down, down . . . Feeling safe. Feeling relaxed.’

‘Where are you, Jo?’ Fiona asked again sometime later. ‘What do you see?’

The mist began to clear inside my head. I had the sense of being in a crowd.

‘A street,’ I said.

Who’s looking at the street? Is it you?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Does this person have a name?’

Somewhere in my brain, I felt uncomfortable and I felt myself stir out of the pleasant reverie I’d been in. ‘I’m sorry, Fiona, but I feel like I want to say Henrietta because
I’ve been told about her. Like I want to relax, but might be trying to make something happen by thinking of her.’

‘Lie back. Keep focusing on your breath, Jo. Relax. Let it all go. Don’t force anything. You don’t have to do a thing or make anything happen. If it’s right that you go
back to a certain time, it’s going to happen, it will. Trust your unconscious mind, it is your friend. Let go, relax.’

As I continued to listen to her voice, I let myself drift off again, relieved that I didn’t have to think about past lives or Henrietta or what Effy or Tash thought of me. I felt so
tired.

‘Keep breathing, Jo. Let yourself go wherever feels right. Breathe in and out. Relaxed. Feeling calm. Moving down. . .’

I was vaguely aware that Fiona was talking about another lift going down to other levels.
Blimey, I must be way underground by now,
I thought as I followed her instructions and fell back
into the peaceful doze.

‘. . . warm and comfortable. Where are you now, Jo?’

In my head, I felt as if I was watching a film. My life streaming backwards. Images I knew so well. Doing a DIY makeover with Effy. Laughing our heads off because we both looked like ghouls. A
bicycle in the hall. My bicycle. Our dog, Rex, out on the lawn when I was in a paddling pool. Earlier. Dad getting into a car, waving him off to work with Mum. Further back. Mum in the kitchen
cooking Sunday lunch. I could smell the roast chicken and onions for the gravy. Further back. I felt so small, so young. Mum and Dad’s faces looking down at me while I’m lying in a cot.
Then a mist but it feels nice, like floating on clouds. The clouds clear. I’m looking down and see a young, dark-haired woman lying on a bed in a small room. Bent over her is a man with dark
hair, though I can’t see his face. I can’t tell his age but he’s not old. I feel a jolt and suddenly I sense that
I
am the woman and the man is holding
my
hand. I
still can’t see his face because he is turned away.

‘Where are you, Jo?’ Fiona asked again.

‘Room.’

‘Who’s looking at the room?’

‘Not sure. Me, but not me. I have my eyes closed but I can see.’

‘Are you all right there, Jo?’

I nod but I sense that the man is distressed. He squeezes my hand and says, ‘I will find you. I will find you.’

I don’t feel upset. I have the sensation of moving, being pulled up and out of the young woman’s body, and again, I am looking down on her from above. She looks serene, the man still
holding her hand, bent over her. I feel as if I am moving through a dark tunnel but it isn’t frightening. It feels good. I begin to move faster through circles of light. I feel so at home in
this light and continue through the most fantastic firework display of gold and white. It is so beautiful and I feel myself melting into it as if becoming one with it.

‘Jo,
JO.
Where are you? Focus on your breathing. You’re coming back now. Safe, warm, relaxed. Feel the couch beneath you. Become aware of the distant traffic sounds outside
the clinic. Safe, warm, relaxed. When I count down from five, you will awaken, five . . . four. . .’

I didn’t want to awaken. I wanted to stay where I was. It felt so peaceful there. But I could feel my body starting to stir. It felt heavy after being in the light.

‘Three ... two ... one and back in the room.’

I opened my eyes.

‘How do you feel, Jo?’ Fiona asked.

I took a deep breath. I felt like I’d had the most fantastic deep sleep and was totally refreshed and recharged. ‘Absolutely blooming wonderful!’ I said and grinned. ‘How
long was I under? It felt like about ten minutes.’

Fiona checked her watch. ‘About an hour.’

Mum was straight in with the interrogation about my session as soon as we got into the car. She assumed that my reason for wanting to try regression was to help with my
insomnia so I didn’t tell her much apart from the fact that I felt great. She was always trying to get me to open up to her but I never did, not any more, not since Dad died.

I certainly wasn’t ready to talk about the Henrietta story with her. With Effy and Tash, even though they were into it, I could still treat it like a bit of fun, but if I talked to Mum,
somehow it would feel more solid, with more of a possibility of being real. Plus I needed home to be a space that was Henrietta free.

‘I just felt totally relaxed, Mum,’ I told her. ‘Yes, images were floating about in my head from my childhood, like photographs I’d forgotten about, but mainly it just
felt floaty, nice.’

‘Did it give some insight as to why you keep having your recurring dream?’ she asked.

I shook my head. ‘Not really’

‘So what happened? Did you go back to another country? A time in history? I’ve always been drawn to Egypt, to the music and the dance. Didn’t you discover you were Cleopatra or
someone like that?’ asked Mum as she pulled out of the car park.

‘No, Mum.’ That much was true.

‘Who do you think the people were that you saw?’ asked Tash.

‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘All I do know is that last night I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years.’

‘I think they were Howard and Henrietta,’ said Effy.

‘You would,’ I said. ‘But what I saw could so easily be an image from a film I saw once or even an image I conjured up myself because we’ve been talking and thinking
about past lives for the last few weeks. Maybe I fell so deeply asleep that I was dreaming. In fact, I think that’s exactly what happened.’

Effy nodded. ‘Maybe, but what came after that, going through a tunnel and into light, that sounds exactly how people describe near-death experiences.’

‘Near death? I think that’s a bit dramatic, Effy. I was fine. I was lying on a couch in Highgate totally alive. I often see light in my head when I’m going off to sleep, just
not that intense before.’

‘I’ll lend you one of my dad’s books,’ said Effy. ‘It’s called
Life After Life.’
She grinned. ‘You’ll like it, it’s a
scientific
study of people who have experienced clinical death.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked Tash.

‘That technically they died on the operating table or in an accident or something, their heart stopped but they were revived to tell the tale.’

‘I was hypnotised, not having a clinical death on an operating table or having an accident. I was safe. I was
fine.
¹

‘Yes but what you experienced sounds the same. I’m not saying
you
were having a death experience but maybe you were reliving Henrietta’s.’

‘Wow, you have such a vivid imagination, Effy.’

‘Just read the book, will you, Jo? What’s so amazing about it is that despite people’s religious beliefs or faith, the experiences that they recount are similar. All described
the light you talked about and also the feeling of well-being and peace.’

‘OK, fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll read it if only to keep you happy’
Remember, remember Owen’s wise words, the path of least resistance works best with Effy,
I
told myself.

‘I love what your hypnotherapist said about souls being born into the same families and circles of friends time after time,’ said Effy.

‘Unless you have a family you hate,’ I said. ‘Then you’d want to get well away from them.’

‘I guess,’ said Tash. ‘But maybe that’s why you come back with them, to work stuff out, the good and the bad.’

I nodded. ‘That’s what Fiona said. Unfinished business.’

‘I like the idea that we might have known each other before, Jo,’ said Effy. ‘I had the same feeling that you did when I met you, like, oh there you are. You seemed so
familiar.’

I smiled at her, we obviously both felt the same way.

‘Hey, what about me?’ asked Tash.

Effy regarded her. ‘First time on the planet, mate. Jo and I are old souls.’

Tash moved forward to pinch her arm but Effy pulled away. ‘Just joking, Tash. You were probably Guinevere or some romantic heroine.’

‘Nah, you were a cleaner, I reckon,’ I said. ‘Or a pig farmer’s wife.’

Tash stuck her tongue out. ‘Oink to you,’ she said.

‘Any word from Finn?’ Effy asked.

I shook my head. ‘He said “Later” when I left him on Sunday, but “later” in boy speak can mean anything from next week to next month.’

Effy and Tash both nodded in agreement.

Our bus arrived at our stop and we got off and headed for the school gates. The effects of the session last night were still with me and I felt well chilled and in such a good mood that even
Effy threatening to thrust her near-death book on me couldn’t faze me.

I like Effy’s mum and get on with her. Sometimes I wonder if Effy and I were swapped at birth because personality-wise Effy’s so much more like my mum and I’m more like hers.
Looks-wise there’s no confusion though. I’m just like Mum physically, dark with brown eyes, and Effy takes after her mother. Mrs Davis is small and blonde but her dress sense is more
classic than Effy’s Topshop latest style.

‘How’s the hunt for Henrietta going?’ she asked me. I could tell by the way she arched her right eyebrow that she thought it was all nonsense.

‘You know Effy,’ I replied.

Her mum sighed. ‘I do. She does talk some nonsense sometimes. I don’t know where she gets it from. Not from me, I can tell you. I mean it’s a sweet story, the governess and her
lost soulmate, but anyone with half a brain would know that the clairvoyant made it up.’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘At least Effy has one sensible friend. It sounds like Tash is as taken by the idea as Effy is.’

‘Owen advised me to go along with it and that it’ll bUm out like so many other phases.’