Soul Protector (24 page)

I chewed my lip.

“It’s because you’re strong and
I’m not. I’m weak and pathetic, and I hate myself for it.”

She took a sharp intake of
breath and tried to swallow down her emotion.

Something inside me started to
melt. I reached my hand towards her. “Don’t, Michelle. Please don’t
cry.”

Her breathing was ragged, but
she carried on talking.

“I’ve ruined everything… it’s
all a mess… you… and poor Mum… she puts on a brave face… but I know
she’s torn up inside.”

I sat shaking my head
softly.

“That’s hard enough to live
with… but at least she doesn’t
hate
me.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t hate
you.”

She put her head in her hands
and I had strain to make sense of her muffled words.

“Well
I
hate me. And you
should too, after I stole your boyfriend.”

I put my hands on her face and
made her look at me.

“It wasn’t all down to you,
Michelle. Mike’s to blame too.”

She looked up at me, her
make-up smeared into two big panda eyes. “But I’m your sister.
We’re supposed to look out for each other.”

“Yes, and you were sixteen and
infatuated with him. He took advantage of you.”

“I should have said no,” she
said, sniffing.

“Well you didn’t. And
everything changed. But things will get back to normal at some
point.”

She blinked a couple of times
and took a deep breath.

“But will you ever get back to
normal, Gracie?”

I moved my hands from her, and
stepped back.

“Yes, of course.”

She kept looking at me, and it
seemed like she was debating whether to say something.

“Mum said your depression’s
getting worse. She’s really worried about you, and so am I. That’s
why I had to come and see you.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Don’t
worry about me. I’m fine.”

She weighed me up with her
eyes.

I sighed. “Okay, I’m not fine.
But I am getting better. And anyway, the reason I’m down at the
moment has got nothing to do with you, or Mike.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“It’s the truth, Michelle.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. And you’re still my
little sister. I’ve hated not seeing you too, but like I said, I
just need a bit of time.”

“How long?”

I looked at her worried face
and it reminded me of how she used to look when Dad was on the
rampage.

“About five seconds…”

She pressed her lips together,
and frowned.

“Michelle, I’m telling you I
forgive you.”

She leapt at me, nearly
knocking me off my feet.

~~~

CHAPTER 19

.

Training

.

For several days after Michelle
had visited, I couldn’t get her comment about me being a counsellor
out of my head. And the more I thought about it, the more I
realised I wanted to give it a go. Then I’d woken in the middle of
the night with an epiphany - a Professional Soul Protector - the
job I’d been so adamant I didn’t want to do, was very similar to
being a counsellor, just a bit more intimate. Each time the thought
popped into my head, I reminded myself Soul Protector stuff was
scary, and tried to push it out of my mind. But the idea stood its
ground, and gradually wore me down.

It’s amazing how easily you can
change your opinion when desperation sets in. So, after a few days
of blowing hot and cold, I finally decided to explore the
possibility of becoming a PSP. I knew the money was decent, and
although it terrified me, I could see the job would be rewarding in
other ways too. And while my own life was a mess, it seemed a good
idea to get involved with helping others.

Tom sounded pleased to hear
from me when I rang to tell him, and he organised an interview for
me at the Office. Things moved at pace from that point. I was
pleased they arranged a car to collect me, because I couldn’t
remember the route Dan took after he’d pulled off the M1. And there
was no official address to search for it on Google maps.

It turned out the interview was
only a formality. Dan had put in a recommendation for me on my
first visit to the Office and I realised that was the reason he’d
wanted to answer all the questions when he took me to get
registered. Anything that sounded reckless would have made it
impossible for me to get the job. The nice lady who interviewed me
told me as long as I completed their two month training programme
successfully, I would definitely become a Professional Soul
Protector. And they were going to pay me to train.

~

On my first session I walked
nervously towards the security desk to sign in. In the daytime, the
main open plan area of the Office was even busier. People were
coming and going with a sense of urgency, while others were huddled
in impromptu discussions. I got the feeling they were talking about
work, and not the previous night’s telly.

One of the security guards,
Bob
, gave me a warm welcome and ushered me over to the
waiting area in the corner. It consisted of two sofas placed in an
L-shape and a low-level coffee table with business magazines
scattered on top. There was a large fern sitting in a glazed
ceramic pot in the gap where the sofas met, and to the side was a
water-cooler and coffee machine. Several people were already
seated.

I walked over to the coffee
machine and spent a few moments studying the various buttons,
before grabbing a paper cup and pushing it onto the drip tray. I
selected a latte, and inhaled the steamy aroma as white frothy
milk, followed by rich brown liquid, poured into the cup.

I turned to the sofas and
hesitated. There wasn’t much space left. A man with blonde hair and
ginger roots smiled and shifted over to make room. He had the look
of Boris Becker about him.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling at
him, and tried to balance my bag and coffee cup as I sat down
between him and a lady with dark hair pinned to the top of her
head. She had loose tendrils floating off in all directions.

Everybody was sat in silence
and it made me feel self-conscious. I put my latte on the table,
cleared my throat and leant forward to pick up a glossy
magazine.

I scanned the cover. It was
called The Soul Fellow and it looked far more professional than
Elevate. One of the titles on the front page caught my eye –
‘Paranormal Research Institution Claims Body-Swapping is
Possible.’
My fingers raced through the pages until I found the
article.

Paranormal Research Institution
Claims Body-Swapping is Possible.

By J A Norton

Peter McIntyre, Head of UK’s
Paranormal Research Institution, has informed the Government his
team are close to providing proof that body-swapping is
possible.

McIntyre reported significant
progress in his research after the team identified an adult male
they believe has the ability to body-swap. At an undisclosed
location, McIntyre and his team observed the male swap bodies with
a second adult male.

They noted small visual
disturbances around the pair at the time of the swap, and stated
equipment picked up a change in the electro-magnetic field around
them.

McIntyre went on to explain
that the phenomenon can only be performed by certain individuals,
although he is unsure of the criteria required for instigating a
body-swap at this time.

With the five year research
project nearing its completion date, McIntyre has requested further
funding from the Government in order to provide concrete
evidence.

The Government are yet to
decide if they will authorise an extension to this
highly-controversial research. Inside sources reveal several key
officials are unimpressed by McIntyre’s far-fetched claims and
believe the money would be better spent elsewhere.

I read through the report
again. At no point did The Soul Fellow make any comment about the
facts, and how huge the implications might be for Soul Protectors.
They hadn’t even referred to the fact that the terminology
‘body-swap’ was wrong. Unless this Peter McIntyre and his team had
been watching two Soul Protectors of course, but I thought that was
unlikely.

One of the loose tendrils of
hair from the lady sitting next to me tickled my face. I brushed my
cheek discreetly, placing the magazine on my lap. I picked up my
cup and had a sip of latte and looked at the organisation around
me. I thought of the high security, the fact the office was located
in the middle of nowhere, the palm print technology doors, the
paperwork all having to be in code, and it hit me. Of course they
couldn’t have magazines lying around confirming Soul Protectors
were real. They needed to report news, but I guessed they had to
keep their opinions to themselves in case the magazine ever got
into the wrong hands. What a frustrating way to run a magazine. I
made a mental note that if a writer job ever came up at the Office,
I wouldn’t apply.

My heart sped up as I saw three
monitors, two men and one woman, make their way through the
open-plan area. I checked the faces. I didn’t recognise any of
them, and felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment all
at once.

Dan’s words about being
ostracized crept into my mind and I wondered who the Soul Protector
that McIntryre and his team had spotted was, and whether he or she
had realised they were being observed. Worse still, I wondered if
there was a Corrupt Soul Protector who had gone willingly to this
Paranormal Research Institution. But if it was a CSP, they would
have been informed it was one person switching into another, and
not a body-swap, so to speak.

I flicked through the rest of
the magazine, not fully-absorbing the details. I was too busy
keeping one eye on the members of staff walking around.

I saw a lady approaching with
shoulder-length hair and a smart blue suit. She stopped walking and
smiled down at us.

“Hello ladies and gentleman.
Are you my PSP trainees?”

I nodded along with the
others.

“I’m Elaine Fortensky, the
senior trainer. Follow me. I’ll take you through to the Training
Suite.”

I stood up and dropped my cup
in the bin, before dutifully following Elaine and the others out
through the reception area and past the large screens on the back
wall. She pressed her palm on the same glass door Dan had when I
came to get registered. I shook my head. I had to stop thinking
about him.

The labyrinth of corridors
opened up to us. As we hurried to keep up with Elaine’s fast pace,
I noticed we were leaving the smart décor behind us. The further we
walked, the worse it got. Paintwork was flaking off the walls and
the smart metallic-looking floor tiles were replaced by threadbare
carpet.

We stopped at a door with
‘lecture room’ on the front. Elaine yanked the handle and we filed
inside the dark, chilly room. I rubbed at my arms as Elaine flicked
on a light switch. There was a wooden stage down at the front and
facing it were rows of staggered seating, each with a small
desk.

Elaine skipped down the steps
and ushered us to sit down in the front two rows.

“Okay people, welcome to your
first training session. I’m sure you’re all anxious to get
started.” She walked along switching on our desk lamps and then
stepped down to stand on the stage, beside a projector screen.

“The first thing we’re going to
do is introduce ourselves,” she said, walking to the side of the
stage and dimming the lighting. “I’ll put your name on the screen,
and you can come down here and tell the others a little potted
history about yourself.”

Oh Jesus. “
Why do
trainers do this?” I muttered under my breath.

“They get some sort of sick
enjoyment watching trainees quake with terror,” came the voice of
floaty-hair lady.

I swallowed hard as the first
name appeared on the screen.
Marcus Taylor.
The Boris Becker
lookalike who was sitting to my left shifted uncomfortably in his
seat.

“Come on, Marcus, wherever you
are. Don’t be shy,” Elaine said, in a chop-chop, hurry-along tone
of voice.

Marcus cleared his throat and
stood up.

“Good luck,” I said, under my
breath.

He gave me a crooked smile
before making his way to the front. Once on stage, he stretched out
his fingers and then shoved both hands deep in his pockets.

“Err, yeah, hi everyone… Um, my
name’s Marcus…” He stopped and looked at the screen behind him. “…
oh right, you already know that…”

He joined in laughing with us.
And as he laughed, he pulled his hands out of his pockets and
relaxed.

He told us how he came from a
long line of Professional Soul Protectors and he’d always intended
to become one himself, once he’d completed his architect training
as a fall-back. He said he’d dabbled in switching ever since his
dad had dropped the routine hints and he found out he was a Soul
Protector. He said he couldn’t imagine a more worthwhile job than a
Professional Soul Protector.

When he finished speaking,
Elaine encouraged us to give him a round of applause. He walked
back and gave us an exaggerated bow before taking his seat.

The next name appeared on the
screen.
Gracie Reynolds.

“
Oh no
, that’s
me
.”

“Break a leg, Gracie,” Marcus
said, giving me the thumbs up.

Heart thudding, I walked down
the steps and onto the stage. There was a light shining in my face
and although I could see all the desk lamps, I couldn’t pick out
Marcus or any of the others.

“H-hello everyone.”

Elaine was standing by my side,
willing me on with her big blue eyes.

“Erm… I, erm...”