Soul Protector (4 page)

I picked Chloe up and placed
her against my chest, stroking her fluffy body while she rattled
and purred. It had a calming effect on me.

“God, Chloe, I’ve been asleep
for hours. I hope your daddy’s not due home any time soon.”

Chloe stopped purring, stuck
her back leg out, and began washing herself. I knew I couldn’t just
lie there, so after a few moments I picked her up and plopped her
on the floor. She looked up at me in disgust.

“I’m sorry, puss. I need to go
home and switch back.” Saying the words out loud highlighted how
absurd the whole thing was.

Chloe chose to ignore me, and
sprung back onto my lap. I slumped back, stroking her head. “You’re
right, you know. If I switch back now, I’ll have achieved
nothing.”

I tried to come up with a plan.
The tinnitus made it difficult to concentrate, but I remembered
Lydia’s car was in the garage, so I decided my best bet would be to
go into town as Lydia had intended, and collect it. It was the
least I could do for her. I would use the time in-between to try
and pick up any clues and work out what was going on. If I didn’t
discover anything by the time I switched back, at least I’d know I
gave it my best shot, and made up for sleeping on the job.

I had a small battle with my
conscience as I hunted in Lydia’s handbag for the diary she kept in
there. Her life was highly organised, and I knew that diary was the
centre of her universe. Rummaging amongst the expensive make-up and
perfume, I found the black leather-bound book I was looking for. I
slipped it out of the bag and flicked through it. I found the
garage details scribbled down under the date. She had added, ‘pick
up after five-thirty.’

Next, I wandered through to her
en-suite to freshen up. I decided against showering, it just didn’t
seem right. Instead, I washed my face, cleaned my teeth and prayed
that deodorant and perfume would suffice. In her wardrobe, on the
left hand-side, was an outfit already pulled together. I took it
off the hanger and climbed into the floaty top and linen trousers.
I pulled on one of her jackets and finished it off with the scarf
she’d looped round the same hanger. Looking at the finished
ensemble in the mirror, it was perfect; perfect on Lydia’s body,
anyway.

I grabbed her bag off the
work-surface and after double-checking her car keys were in there,
I walked out the door.

~

I sat on the bus heading into
town and felt paranoid that everyone knew what I was up to. I felt
myself starting to sweat and tried to slow my breathing down to
make me relax. I had to keep reminding myself there was no need to
feel self-conscious. Nobody knew this wasn’t my body, so to them I
looked completely normal. All I had to do was act it. I folded my
hands on my lap and looked out the window, breathing in through my
nose for a count of four and then out through my mouth.

I didn’t know if I was
imagining it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
After a couple of minutes the feeling of eyes burning into the back
of me became so intense, I couldn’t bear it any longer and glimpsed
over my shoulder. I had been right. Sitting two rows behind was a
plump woman with an orange glow above her head. I assumed it must
be coming from the skylight. My eyes connected with hers and she
gave me a discreet smile and nod, before looking away. I smiled
back, too late for her to see, and faced forward again.
See
Gracie, nobody knows, so stop panicking
.

The bus pulled in at the
station and I hopped out of my seat and followed a line of
passengers down the stairs. As I stepped off the platform the smell
of diesel hit me, causing a wave of queasiness. When I thought
about it, I realised it might not just be the fumes making me feel
ill. Lydia hadn’t had anything to eat since that cookie the night
before.

I managed to dodge a motorbike
on the zebra crossing as I headed towards a small cafe across the
road. A man on his way out stopped in his tracks, beamed, and held
the door for me to enter.

“There you go, babe,” he said,
his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, thank you.”

He looked me up and down. “The
pleasure is
all
mine.”

Inside, it was warm and cosy
and the smell of freshly roasted coffee was a pleasant contrast to
the diesel fumes. I walked past the little wooden tables and chairs
towards the counter.

There was a young lad serving.
He was tall and wiry with pale blonde hair and fresh acne scars. He
looked up and did a double-take.
He knows.
His cheeks went
red and he stuttered as he asked for my order. I felt my own cheeks
go red and wondered if I should make a sharp exit, but instead
heard myself order a tuna-melt Panini and a skinny latte.

He turned to the unit behind
him and as I watched him place a glass under the coffee machine, I
tried hard to slow my breathing down. I had to keep reminding
myself there was no way anyone could know I was in someone else’s
body.

He walked back, scooped up a
Panini from the display and placed it on the toaster. His eyes
flicked in my direction and he gave me a shy smile, before turning
back to fiddle with the coffee machine. As it whirred and
spluttered to life, the real reason for his reaction clicked into
place and I felt relief wash over me.

I’d seen the same reaction
happen on numerous occasions before but never to me personally, and
that was what had thrown me. It had nothing to do with me and
everything to do with the way Lydia looked. My breathing went back
to normal and when toaster guy looked my way again, I smiled back
to try and put him at ease.

I batted away guilty feelings
as I peeled a ten pound note from Lydia’s purse, making a mental
note to somehow pay her back without her knowing.

There was a table free next to
the window, so I walked across and put my latte down. I unfolded my
napkin and placed it over the sticky patch left behind from
someone’s cake, before sitting down and biting into the warm tuna
and melted cheese.

I peered around at the other
customers as I chewed. There was an old couple sitting nearby,
sharing a pot of tea and a cheese baguette. Neither of them seemed
interested in me. They were more interested in the woman sitting
opposite, trying to encourage a fidgeting toddler to eat his
sandwich.

My attention was drawn to a
couple sitting in the far corner who appeared to be in the middle
of a domestic. The girl was narrowing her eyes and shaking her
head, but it was the guy I couldn’t take my eyes off. He was the
spitting image of my ex, Mike. He had the same surfer dude style
going on, all tanned skin and scruffy blonde hair.

I watched Mike’s double trying
to placate the girl opposite him, and my heart sank as a memory of
mine and Mike’s last night together popped into my head.

It was a few months earlier and
I’d thought we were ticking along okay up until then. We’d shared a
takeaway pizza and some wine, had a play fight which ended with us
falling into bed as usual, fumbling to get each other’s clothes
off. Our lovemaking had been clumsy and fast, but I didn’t mind. I
was happy if Mike was happy. I’d drifted off to sleep contentedly
wrapped in his arms, but as daylight dawned I was aware of being
watched. I gingerly opened one eye to be faced with Mike, leaning
on his elbows, staring at me. His blonde hair was all messed up and
his fringe was flopping into his eyes.

“Gracie babe, I think it’s time
for a break,” he’d said, matter-of-factly.

In my half-asleep confusion, I
honestly thought he was talking about a holiday, or maybe a weekend
mini-break in a nice hotel somewhere. A lazy smile had started to
form on my lips, but froze in its place after the next killer
line.

“I think if we end this now,
we’ll have great memories between us, but any longer and we’ll just
end up hating each other.”

“Wh-what?” I’d whimpered
pathetically, my mind catching up with his wild statement, “I
couldn’t hate you, I-I could never hate you, I thought we were
happy?” I felt my chin start to wobble. “Did I do something
wrong?”

I sat up and raked my fingers
through my hair, pulling it over my ears.
Why is he telling me
this now?
How could I put over a good case for him to stay with
last night’s make up smudged down my face, and morning breath?

He rolled over, got off the
bed, and turned to look at me with pity in his eyes.

“Gracie, it’s over. I’m
sorry.”

I watched him pull on his white
boxers, the Calvin Klein’s I’d bought him for his birthday in July,
and felt my emotions start to run away with me. It all got a bit
messy after that. To my great shame I remember crying and begging
him not to leave, but he had been firm. “Don’t do this babe, don’t
embarrass yourself. You deserve someone better than me.”

He was right of course, but I
couldn’t see it then. I even struggled to see it when I found out
he’d been sleeping with my younger sister Michelle, while we’d
still been together. The final nail in the coffin was when Michelle
moved out of Mum’s, and into Mike’s bedsit.

I’d tried to put on a brave
face and tell myself they weren’t worth my tears, but I was a fool
to think I could control my emotions. If I didn’t keep my brain
occupied at all times, the raw feelings would come from nowhere and
overwhelm me. No matter how bad it was having my heart broken by
Mike, the betrayal I felt by my little sister had knocked me
sideways.

As children we’d endured more
than most, and the result had been a bond so strong, I thought
nothing could break it. How wrong could you be?

My confidence was in tatters
and, bit by bit, I’d withdrawn into my shell, turning down Kerry’s
relentless offers of nights out and the odd blind date.

After things settled down a
bit, Michelle began turning up at Mum’s when I was there. It was
far too often to be a coincidence. As soon as I saw her walk up the
drive, my heart would sink and I would begin planning excuses to
make a sharp exit. For Mum’s sake I tried to keep things civil, and
even managed some polite conversation, but the words were forced
and awkward, with Mum jumping in every other word, trying to jolly
us along. It was pitiful.

I sighed and picked up my
latte. I had to stop torturing myself by raking over the details.
It didn’t matter how many times I thought it through and tried to
make excuses for Michelle, nothing could change the fact that she
slept with my boyfriend behind my back.

I closed my eyes to concentrate
my thoughts, and jumped when the tinnitus started up again. Louder
this time, noises rushed furiously inside my head. In the
background there was another less distinctive sound. It was the
same whispering sounds as before, but I couldn’t pick out actual
words. My head started to thump, so I opened my eyes and felt
relief as the volume dipped sharply.

My stomach wouldn’t stop
churning, and I only managed a couple more bites of the Panini. I
dropped it back on the plate, and finished off the latte instead.
Then I stacked the glass on my plate, and looked round to say
thanks to the guy who had served me. He’d been staring and his
cheeks flushed with colour.

Back on the street I felt a
trickle of sweat run down my spine. It was guilt. Using Lydia made
me feel dirty and I longed to switch back into my own body and
forget the whole thing. I don’t know what I’d expected to discover
parading around as Lydia, but I was no closer to finding anything
out than when I’d been in my own body.

Amongst the crowds of people
walking along, I spotted a man with an orange glow above him. It
reminded me of the woman on the bus earlier, but clearly there were
no skylights around this time. As he drew closer I saw the orange
glow was actually a mixture of colours; different hues of red,
yellow and gold, pulsing and swirling together to form the orange
light.

The man stopped walking and
stared directly at me. I gave him a half-smile as I tried to fathom
out what was causing the strange effect above him. He didn’t smile
back. In fact, his face fell into a frown and he jabbed his finger
towards his wrist. I checked behind to see if he was signalling to
someone else, but there was no one obvious. I looked back at him,
shrugged apologetically and carried on walking.

After a couple of hours spent
aimlessly wandering, I checked my watch and felt relieved it was
time to head to the garage.

I didn’t know the area very
well, but I had a rough idea where all the big garages were. I
headed away from the hustle and bustle of the main street, towards
a side-road that I thought would lead me to the street I
needed.

I began walking up a gentle
slope, towards some shabby-looking industrial units at the top.
After a few steps, as usual, I doubted my sense of direction and
turned to look behind me. I squinted towards the sign and caught my
breath. Standing at the bottom of the hill was the man with the
orange glow. He was watching me, and he looked furious.

I turned round, fixed my eyes
forward and quickened my pace. Beads of sweat formed on my brow and
upper lip as I panted, walking as fast as I could without actually
running. I was sure if I did break into a run, he would too. All
the while I listened for his footsteps behind me.

After a few metres, I checked
over my shoulder to see if he was following. Relief washed over me
when I saw he hadn’t moved. He had his hand up to his ear like he
was talking to someone on the phone. I was too far away to hear any
conversation, but I could tell he was still watching me.

As I drew level with the first
warehouse, I could just make out a garage on the corner up ahead.
It wasn’t the BMW one I needed, but I knew they were all clustered
together, so at least I was in the right location.