Soul Protector (25 page)

I stopped and turned to Elaine.
“Sorry. I’m just really nervous.”
“You’re doing great, Gracie,” shouted a voice that sounded like
Marcus.

Elaine nodded
enthusiastically.

I squinted into the darkness,
took a deep breath and carried on. “Y-you see, this whole Soul
Protector thing has all come out of the blue for me. I only found
out…”

The door at the top of the room
creaked and then gently closed again. I stopped mid-sentence,
trying to work out if someone had actually entered the room.

“Hold on a minute,” said
Elaine. Her heels clicked as she walked to the edge of the stage
and pressed the switch, illuminating the whole room.

Once my eyes adjusted, I saw
there was a man coming down the stairs, and he was wearing a
monitor outfit. When I looked at his face, I caught my breath.

“Oh hi, Dan. Thanks for popping
in,” Elaine said breezily.

He’s not switched.

“No problem,” Dan said, getting
closer, “Bob said you needed to see me.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes away as
he approached the stage. He caught my stare and did a double-take.
His expression flicked from surprise to something that resembled
irritation. Within a split second he’d corrected himself and was
focussed on Elaine again. I was left wondering if I’d imagined
it.

“Yes, I’ve got the results for
the aptitude tests your recruits took yesterday,” Elaine was saying
as she stooped to pick up her handbag. “I know you’re trying to get
them fast-tracked so I took them home to finish last night.”

Dan jumped up onto the stage,
and stood near me. “Hi, Gracie,” he whispered.

“Hello,” I mouthed back. Inside
my stomach was turning somersaults.

Elaine waved an envelope in the
air as she walked back to the centre of the stage. “Here you go,
they’re all inside.”

“Thanks Elaine, I really
appreciate it.” He took hold of the results. “Well, I’ll leave you
to get on with it, apologies for the interruption folks.”

Without looking my way again,
he hopped off the stage and climbed the stairs, taking two at a
time.

“Oh, Dan, wait a minute,”
Elaine called after him. “Are you coming out for drinks with us
later, for Naomi-from-Accounts’ birthday?”

Dan ran his fingers through his
hair. “Um, yeah, I guess so. As long as I don’t get called on a
shout…”

“Oh good, Naomi will be
pleased.”

I heard the door close behind
him.

Elaine turned to me and winked.
“Because Naomi’s got the hots for him...”

I attempted, and failed, to do
a light-hearted smile.

~

After a dodgy start, the
training sessions improved. My fellow recruits turned out to be a
good bunch, especially Marcus who was the class clown. Elaine, the
trainer, was a bit over-enthusiastic. She was one of those women
whose shirt was always buttoned to the top, and she had an
ever-present clipboard firmly pressed to her bosom. But her heart
was in the right place.

She told us that when we became
official PSPs we would rely fifty percent on our training, and the
rest would come from personal intuition.

We spent the majority of the
course learning about the psychology of people and how to heal
them. It was fascinating.

We even had a session with Mr
Matthews, the robot guy. He spoke about the physics of switching,
and although I was desperate to give him my full attention, my mind
kept wandering as I struggled to stifle the odd yawn.

It got a bit more interesting
when told us how many times you could switch. “It is only possible
to switch with one person at a time. So in order to leave a host
body, it is only ever possible to switch back into your primary
body. There is one exception to this, the Switch Enforcement
Chamber.”

I sat up straight in my seat,
imagining the chair with all the straps just up the corridor,
waiting for its next victim.

Elaine spent one session
highlighting areas she thought we should already be familiar with.
She paced up and down the stage while she spoke. “While your
thoughts are prominent, the vulnerable person will only remember
your actions. They will hardly be aware of what you’re thinking or
remember any conversations you have.”

I raised my hand and Elaine
stopped pacing and nodded towards me.

“Um, Elaine, how can they not
be aware of a conversation?”

“It’s called subconscious
paralysis. If the Soul Protector’s mind is dominant while a
conversation takes place, the Vulnerable Person will only be aware
they have seen the person you were speaking to. It’s a bit like a
boring conversation going on next to you that you pay no attention
to. They won’t remember any details of the conversation. If you
want the VP to become involved in the conversation, you have to let
your mind become passive.”

This time I spoke without
raising my hand. “So how can we influence them, if they’re not
aware of our thoughts?”

Elaine began pacing again. “The
SP has to work hard to push through positive thoughts. And the way
to be effective in another’s mind is to initially become passive in
your own thoughts, so that the VP’s mind is dominant. Once the VP
is focussed on their problem, at that point it is possible to force
through your own thoughts and manipulate them.”

Elaine told us that towards the
end of our training course we would be paired up with a
switch-buddy so we could practice reading each other’s thoughts.
Then she delivered some information that made me feel less
confident about completing the course.

“The training will culminate in
a final test. You will be handed a confidential envelope with a
particular train of thought inside. You will take it in turns to
push your thought pattern through to your partner. If you are
successful, you will qualify as Professional Soul Protector. If you
fail, well, that’s it I’m afraid.”

“What about if you want to
become a monitor?” asked Jim, the quietest member of the group.

“Yes, once you qualify as a PSP
you can take an aptitude test to see if you qualify to join our
elite group of monitors.”

“Hunting down bad boys… I fancy
some of that,” said Marcus.

“I’m not looking forward to
taking that final test,” said Jim, while we were on lunch break one
day.

“I’ve heard its fun. Just think
of it like a game of Chinese whispers,” said Marcus.

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. “Don’t
you all feel a bit intimidated though, you know, in case our
switch-buddy finds out all our intimate thoughts?”

Marcus raised his eyebrows.
“Why, have you got something to hide, Gracie?”

“No, not really… well, we all
have some skeletons in the cupboard, don’t we?”

Marcus beamed. “I’ll get mine
out now then… I fancy Elaine.”

“What?” said Heather, the lady
with floaty tendrils. She was waving her scotch egg in the air,
“you and Elaine?”

“Nah, I’m gay. But, just
saying, if someone
was
able to lure me to the dark side, it
would have to be a dominant woman like Elaine.”

I giggled along with the
others, making a mental note to keep my own skeleton,
Dan
,
firmly in the cupboard.

~~~

CHAPTER 20

.

Helping Emily

.

I wandered along Tesco’s aisles
aimlessly picking up food and putting it down again. My appetite
still wasn’t back to normal and I was trying to find something to
tempt my taste buds. As I walked up one aisle towards the bakery I
caught a whiff of fresh bread.
Yes.
That’s what I fancied,
lovely fresh bread with proper butter. I made my way over to the
shelves where they put the freshly baked stuff and viewed my
options. There was a stack of fresh wholemeal loaves, and one
solitary baguette. I eyed the baguette hungrily, moving towards it.
Just as I was about to swoop down, another pair of hands beat me to
it.
Damn.

I straightened up again and
sighed. The girl who’d just grabbed it turned to look my way. She
would be in no doubt I’d wanted it too.

The first thing I noticed was
her bruises, but when our eyes locked, I had a flicker of
recognition. She had short blonde hair, was about my height, and
radiated anxiety like she was apologising for her very existence. I
definitely knew her from somewhere.

“Sorry,” she said, swiftly
raising her hand to hide the ugly marks around her left eye.

“No problem.”
Where do I
know you from?

“Here, you have this,” she
said, holding the baguette in my direction.

“Don’t be silly. You won it
fair and square.”

“Are you sure? Well, thanks...”
She bowed her head and turned to walk off in the other
direction.

“Hey, wait. Don’t I know you
from somewhere?”

She turned back in my
direction, but cast her eyes downwards. “No, I don’t think so.”

“But I’m positive I’ve met you
before.”

She glanced at me furtively,
and the way she did it triggered my memory.

“At the pub… I met you and your
boyfriend in the pub, and you spilt your drink on me. It’s Emma? No
Emily, right?”

She heaved a sigh. “Yes, that’s
me I’m afraid.”

“So, are you okay? What
happened to your eye?”

She slowly dropped her hand,
revealing the full extent of damage; purple, yellow and green
smudged together to form the mother of all bruises.

“It’s nothing, I just tripped.”
She spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear. “I somehow managed to
collide with the door handle on the way down. I’m clumsy remember?”
A weak smile formed on her lips.

I could tell I was making her
uncomfortable, so I returned her smile. “Well Emily, you really
need to take more care of yourself.”

She nodded. “It was nice to see
you again, but I’ve got to go, I’m in a hurry.”

She waved her baguette at me,
and quick-marched away. I watched her small frame disappear and
felt helpless. I didn’t have solid proof it was her boyfriend
knocking her around, but something was affecting her, she was a
nervous-wreck. As I stood there feeling sorry for her, a plan began
to formulate in my mind. The more I thought about it, the more
sense it made. It was so obvious. Wasn’t this the opportunity I’d
been waiting for? I didn’t have to just stand there and do nothing.
I had a burning desire to help her and I was in a unique position
to be able to do just that. But I had to act fast or I was going to
lose sight of her for good.

Adrenaline kicked in
immediately. I dropped my basket and ran to the end of the aisle.
When I saw her, I slowed my run to a fast walk and caught up.

I raised my hand to her
shoulder. “Emily, wait…”

She turned round startled.
Without speaking I quickly wished I was her.

Too late, I realised Tesco had
been a bad place to switch. As dizziness overwhelmed me, I flung my
arm out searching for a stable base to support me and came into
contact with a display of baked beans all stacked to form a
pyramid. As I fell, the whole lot came crashing down with me,
making a horrendous clattering noise as each tin bounced off the
tiled floor. All the shoppers in the nearby vicinity stopped what
they were doing and gawped in my direction.

‘Gracie’ who had managed to
avoid being dragged down as well, bent towards me.

“Oh my God, are you okay,
Emily?” She grabbed my hand.

“Yes, yes I’m fine,” I said,
brushing myself off while trying to ignore the rubber-neckers,
“it’s just my pride that’s hurt.”

She pulled me up, her eyes
never leaving my face. There was a smile playing on her lips and I
knew it wasn’t my clown act that was amusing her. I stood up
straight and pulled my elbows backwards, trying to loosen my
shoulder muscles after the fall.

‘Gracie’ carried on staring at
me, waiting for something. I couldn’t believe she needed a sign
after what just happened. I gave her a sly wink and her smile
turned to a full on beam.

‘Gracie’ and I turned our
attention back to the baked bean chaos, picking up tins and trying
to stack them in some sort of order. Luckily a couple of shop
assistants who had heard the commotion came over to help us, and
with amazing dexterity, they reformed the pyramid.

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly, as
one of them plucked a tin out of my hands. I wondered how many
times a day they had to restack them.

‘Gracie’ and I began walking
towards the exit. I was amazed at the chattering going on inside
Emily’s head. It was hard to pick out individual thoughts; there
was too much noise inside the shop to compete against. When I was
switched into Lydia, I couldn’t make any sense of the chatter and
thought it was tinnitus, but there was no mistaking the voices in
Emily’s head.

I tried to clear away my own
thoughts and concentrate. As I did, Emily’s thoughts became more
prominent, but they dipped away sharply as ‘Gracie’ began talking
to me. I squinted and placed two fingers against an ear, giving her
a knowing look. She nodded as she realised what I was doing, and
stopped talking.

It was like trying to tune into
a radio station, when you couldn’t quite get the frequency right.
Some words were clear but others were beyond comprehension. I
concentrated so hard, I was starting to get a throbbing sensation
around my temples, but it was worth the effort. The harder I
concentrated, the clearer the chattering became. And it wasn’t just
the voices that gave me an insight into her world; I could feel how
she was feeling too. She was agitated. I felt her desperation to
grab the few things she was buying, get out of the shop and home as
soon as possible. She was racing against the clock and she was
terrified of failing.
Why is she so terrified of being late?
An image popped into my head.
Graham.

I looked over at ‘Gracie.’
“Come on,” I said, heading to the checkout.