Love at Second Sight (17 page)

‘Like who?’

‘Umm . . . like Jane Austen. She had moderate success when she was alive but who hasn’t heard of her now? Her books must have sold millions since she died, not to mention the film
and TV adaptations. What if she was back in this life, remembered that she was Jane and wanted her royalties?’

I laughed. ‘Yes. Wow. I see what you mean. Publishers would freak but then, how would you prove it to them?’

‘Exactly It’s an interesting notion,’ Ben continued.

‘So who else?’ I asked. ‘Imagine who else might be back and who as?’

‘Your turn’ said Ben.

‘OK, give me a name.’

‘St Francis of Assissi.’

‘Obvi,’I replied.’A vet.’

Ben laughed out loud. ‘Lancelot and Guinevere?’

‘They’d run a dating agency’

Ben laughed again and as we drank our drinks and chatted away, I realised there was more to him than the ‘scowler’.

‘What about God? Do you believe in God?’ I asked.

‘Wow. Heavy stuff for a Sunday morning.’

‘It’s
because
it’s Sunday,’ I said. ‘Do you believe in God?’

‘I have a theory about God,’ said Ben. ‘I think there are three gods. Brothers, in fact. God the good – he made the flowers and the sunsets and all that kind of stuff.
God the bad. He’s nasty and is the one who made wasps. I mean what’s the point of them?’

‘And sharks,’ I said.

‘Yeah and sharks,’ agreed Ben.

‘What about the third one?’

‘God the stupid,’ said Ben. ‘Not as bright as the other two. Everything he made is flawed, hence all the cock-ups on the planet.’

This time it was my turn to laugh out loud. ‘Good theory,’ I said. ‘I like that.’ I was beginning to like Ben now that I was getting to know the real him. He was funny
and quirky. It was like I was seeing him properly for the first time. He had kind, intelligent eyes, eyes that were looking into mine, searching. For a moment, we connected and I felt a sweet lurch
deep inside of me. It felt so intense and unexpected that I had to look away.

I picked up my fork and cut a small piece of carrot cake. ‘Um . . . Do you have a girlfriend, Ben?’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘Direct, aren’t you?’

‘Just I saw you one day buying flowers,’ I said and pointed out the window towards the florist’s.

‘That must have been for my mum’s birthday,’ he said. ‘Have you been checking up on me?’

‘No, just asking.’

‘Well, no, I don’t have a girlfriend. What about you?’ Ben asked.

‘Do I have a girlfriend?’ I teased.

‘No. Boyfriend ... I got the impression you like Finn.’

‘No way. He’d do my head in.’

‘Yours and plenty others.’

‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘I like being single anyway. Love does your head in.’

Ben nodded. ‘Exactly my sentiments.’

‘One of the clairvoyants said I have it imprinted on my subconscious mind that love is painful.’

A look of sadness flashed across Ben’s face. ‘It can be if the person you like doesn’t feel the same or doesn’t even notice you.’

I studied his face. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about me and Finn or about himself. ‘Or someone you love dies,’ I said. ‘I think the clairvoyant might have been right
but it wasn’t as . . . er . . . complicated as she was making out. Simple truth is that I lost someone close when I was very young. That sort of thing is bound to affect you, isn’t
it?’ I was surprised I was talking to Ben like this. Saying things that were really private. He reached over, took my hand and squeezed it like he understood.
Time to change the
subject,
I decided. It suddenly felt too intimate. ‘So what about your photos for the article then?’

‘I’m going to take a whole range,’ he replied, letting go of my hand. ‘Finn will probably only use one or two but I might do a whole load. I like the theme.’

At the mention of Finn again, I felt my stomach turn over. I wished I could never see him again but there was no chance of that while we were on the
Chillaxin
team together.
I am not
going to think about you, Finn O’Brady,
I told myself. I glanced over at Ben. He knew Finn well. Maybe he’d have some advice.

‘Ben?’

‘Yeah?’

‘What would you do if you met someone and . . . it wasn’t exactly working out or, that is, you don’t know what’s going on.’

‘Who?’

‘Oh, just someone I’ve met recently. I like him but don’t know how to tell him in case he doesn’t feel the same way.’

Ben studied me. ‘Someone you’ve met
recently,
you say?’

I nodded. ‘I feel like I’ve had enough of all the negative stuff about how love can do your head in and being afraid to let something happen. Sometimes you have to take a chance,
yeah?’

Ben thought for a few moments and I swear he blushed. Just slightly. ‘Yes. I think you do. You should tell him how you feel. You might find out he’s been feeling the same way. Boys
fear rejection just as much as girls, you know.’

Our eyes locked together again but we were interrupted by the sound of my mobile. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was Effy.

‘Go ahead,’ said Ben indicating that I should take the call.

‘Where are you?’ Effy asked as soon as I picked up.

‘Highgate.’ I motioned to Ben that I was going to take the call outside. He nodded.

‘Are you alone?’ she asked.

‘Yes,’ I said once I’d got outside.

‘I need to talk to you about Finn.’

‘I’m so over him, Effy. And you don’t need to worry.’ I glanced back at Ben inside the café. I’d felt something in there. Unexpected but undeniable.
‘I’m not pining or wallowing in misery over that loser.’

‘No. We got it wrong. It wasn’t what it seemed last night.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I found out what happened. Apparently Tracey had drunk a bucketload before she came to the party. She was well out of her head by the time she got to us. Finn was in the loo when she
banged on the door to be let in and when he opened the door, she rushed in and puked her guts out. Then she tried to snog him.’

‘
Ew
.’

‘I know. Ew. Anyway, after that, he took her home. So actually, even though I hate to admit it, he was the hero last night.’

I didn’t know what to say; how could I have got it so wrong.

‘Jo? Jo, are you there?’ Effy’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

‘Yes, I... Oh hell.’

‘Why oh hell? Isn’t this a good thing?’

‘Yes, it is, it’s just... I’m in Highgate with Ben.’

‘Ben, bass player Ben?’

‘Yes.’

‘What are you doing with him?’

‘I. . .’ I glanced back inside. ‘Nothing. I... I don’t know.’ I
didn’t
know. I was beginning to like Ben. He was fun and had interesting ideas. I liked
that too and I’d felt a connection back in the café. I was sure he’d felt it too. But then I’d been sure that there’d been a connection with Finn as well I’d
got it wrong about him and Tracey. Maybe there was a chance for us after all. I glanced back at the café. Ben was watching me, then turned away.

‘Listen, Effy, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later, OK?’ I hung up the phone before Effy could launch her inquisition about why I was out with Ben. I went back into the
café. ‘I’m going to take a chance, Ben. I’m going to tell the boy how I feel,’ I said as I sat next to him.

Ben took a sharp intake of breath, looked away then back at me. ‘. . . OK.’

‘Thanks for your advice,’ I continued. ‘It really helped. I’m going to call him when I get home.’

‘Call
him
?’

‘Yes. I suppose you might as well know. It’s Finn. I know he has loads of girls interested in him, but I have to take a chance.’

Ben’s face changed suddenly. The open expression he’d had earlier closed shut. ‘Of course,’ he said as he turned away slightly and shook his head. ‘Finn.’

As I left the café, I felt more mixed up than ever. Finn wasn’t with Tracey after all.
That’s good, isn’t it
? I asked myself.
So why do I feel weird
? I
should have felt happier about it but something deep inside of me felt regret, like I’d said or done the wrong thing. Was it because I’d felt something starting to happen with Ben? I
turned back to see if he was watching me go. His seat was empty.

By the time my next hypnotherapy appointment came round the week after my party, I felt that I needed a session purely to relax. I hadn’t been sleeping again, not because
of the recurring dream I’d had previously, but because I’d started having a new dream. I was on a game show and had to decide between three boys: Owen, Ben or Finn. It was driving me
mad. Owen had gone back to university but had sent me an email saying that he’d like to get together next time he was back. I’d emailed Finn to say I was sorry I hadn’t got to
spend more time with him at the party and he’d replied saying we should get together soon. And Ben . . . He kept popping up in my thoughts. There was something about him that had got to
me.

‘And what about past lives, Jo? Have you given that any more thought?’ asked Fiona as I settled onto the couch.

‘Sort of but honestly, I don’t know what to think. I’ve been feeling a bit crazy lately, like I don’t know who I am any more or what’s real. Plus I’ve had too
much drama going on in
this
life to have any time to worry about past lives.’

‘Don’t stress over it,’ said Fiona. ‘There are times in life when you have to step back and let things unfold and not try and force the issue. So, are you ready? I think
we made some real progress in our last session, so let’s see if we can go any further this time.’

I nodded and closed my eyes.
I’m going to be asleep in seconds
, I thought. The atmosphere was so peaceful in Fiona’s office and the scent of lavender and frankincense that she
bUmt added to the calm.

‘Do you mind if I record the session again, Jo?’

‘Sure, go ahead,’ I said, though I had the feeling that the only sound I was going to make today was
zzzzz.

Fiona began to talk softly. ‘We’re working with the unconscious mind. In it, a whole realm of memories and experiences are stored. Remember, it is your friend and will only allow to
surface what it sees to be appropriate and helpful to you.’

‘OK.’ I was dozing off already.
Friend, unconscious
, I thought as I listened to Fiona begin the familiar countdown. It wasn’t long before I felt myself drifting in a
timeless state of mind, rested to the point of falling asleep.

‘You’re going back,’ Fiona, voice droned, ‘back to when you were young . . .’

Images of my childhood flashed into my mind as she spoke. Gardens. Mum and Dad. Effy. I felt totally safe partly because the process had become familiar and partly because I trusted Fiona and
what she said.

‘If it’s helpful, you could go back even further, back to a time before your birth. Before the time you returned to in our last session, to a time when you lived . . .’

I saw a tunnel, dark and faint, then a pale light, fog at the end. I tried to see further into it but felt I couldn’t.

‘You’re feeling very calm and relaxed now. If it’s appropriate you will go back. If the time’s not right, you will still feel relaxed, calm, at ease.’

The mist began to clear. I could see a room. I felt small and cold.

‘I see my mother,’ I said. ‘But she’s not my mother from this life.’

‘Who are you?’

‘Me. Henrietta.’ I said it with certainty this time. I wasn’t trying. I knew I was her.

‘And who is your mother?’

‘Cecilia. She’s sewing in the corner. I’m very happy. We’re happy. Oh but, my father. He gets sick.’

Suddenly I felt wracked with grief.

‘How old are you?’

‘Eight. My dad works at the glassworks. He makes fancy glass bells. I take his supper to him when he’s on nights.’

What’s your father’s name?’

‘Tom. My mum’s got all dressed up for his funeral.’

I felt a terrible sadness. I didn’t like what I was seeing. My dad being buried. It was cold, wet. My mother crying. Make it go away, make it go away.

Everything went grey, like a television screen that had lost its picture. I felt like I was drifting again then became aware of Fiona’s voice. She sounded so far away. Where are you now,
Jo?’

I felt uncomfortable and drifted away again. I started to feel myself relax, and the images began to reappear.

‘What happened? Where are you?’ Fiona asked.

We went into the workhouse when I was nine, after my dad died. They put you out if you can’t pay your rent. Our house was boarded up and we was thrown out.’

Who went into the workhouse?’

‘Me and me mam and John, my little brother. I had lovely black curly hair, but they cut it all off at the workhouse. Me mam’s too. I don’t like it here. My mam’s in the
washhouse scrubbing clothes, working hard cos you have to earn your keep. I feel awful. Bleak. Hopeless.’

The images seemed to be flitting about to different points in Henrietta’s life, but I could see it all so clearly. I felt like I was describing a film but a film in which I had a starring
role.

‘I’m happy. I’m six. I’m at home with my dad and my mam. I love my dad very much. He’s a good singer and always invited to weddings to sing.’

The images began to change and I felt older again.

‘I’m fourteen at school in Macclesfield. The Industrial school. Oo it’s such a beautiful place. I can count to ten on my fingers. One, two, three ... I get prizes. One in
Standard Four and another for darning. I’m a good darner.’

‘What about your job in service?’ Fiona coaxed.

The inner images seemed to fast-forward like on a DVD.

‘I started as a mother’s help. My lady has three children. It’s at my lady’s house where I met Katie Barrow.’

Katie Barrow. Inwardly, a jolt of recognition went through me. Shock at her memory. Katie.
Katie!
How could I have forgotten her all these years?

‘Who’s Katie?’ Fiona asked.

‘Golden-haired Katie they call her. She has this natural golden hair. She’s knocked about by her dad. Katie is two years older than me but she’s my friend and we’re in
service together.