Chapter One London, 2014 #2
Pixie received his message in the vegetable aisle.
She read it with interest. Secretly, she hoped she’d be required to timeslide, but recently her jobs had been far too easy for that.
Simple souls who were keen to be shown the way home, not Linguinis, as she and Ulysses called the ones who were too traumatised to leave, or simply didn’t want to go.
Those spirits very often didn’t know they were dead.
She hoped and feared in equal measure that she’d slide back to Cavill, that her theory about having tied their destinies together was true. If only to see him one last time.
Pixie and Ulysses arrived at an ordinary terraced house in Battersea just before midday.
It was an overcast, windy morning. After having rained in the night the pavements were littered with sodden leaves, the branches of the trees wet and glistening.
It was cold. Winter seemed to have come early.
Pixie, in her customary bobble hat and grey coat, shivered on the doorstep as Ulysses, handsome in a black beanie and peacoat, pressed the bell.
Shortly, a young woman opened it. ‘Thank God!,’ she exclaimed in what sounded like a German accent, and invited them in. ‘My son’s been complaining of a man in his bedroom cupboard. He won’t sleep in there anymore. We’re at the end of our tether. I hope you can sort it out.’
The woman introduced herself as Adelaide Bauer.
She was petite with long blonde hair tied in a low ponytail, sharp cheekbones, and pretty hazel eyes that gazed at Pixie with hope.
She wasn’t at all surprised by Pixie’s pink hair.
She was, however, surprised by Ulysses’ extraordinarily handsome face.
When she settled her gaze on him she blinked a few times in quick succession, then turned away sharply.
Pixie was used to people’s strange reactions on seeing him.
Sometimes, he was just too dazzling to look at.
Adelaide offered them coffee, but they declined.
Ulysses was very picky about coffee. Coming from Brazil he liked it strong, and it had to be exceedingly good coffee, certainly not instant, and definitely not from a capsule.
Pixie drank tea but preferred not to drink while she worked.
If she was required to timeslide, she couldn’t be interrupted by needing the loo.
‘Can you show us the wardrobe,’ she asked, and followed Adelaide up the narrow staircase.
The house smelt pleasantly of baking bread and was decorated in fashionable pale grey, taupe and cream.
The carpet was seagrass, and black-and-white photographs of glossy, smiling children hung on the walls.
Adelaide seemed to have a happy family life.
Conversely, the energy in the house was negative, giving it a hard feel, which Pixie picked up immediately.
Ulysses, who was insensitive to vibration in spite of having explored metaphysics and the paranormal with Pixie and a group of like-minded people at university, felt nothing but the warmth of a heated home.
Pixie didn’t need Adelaide to show her the bedroom.
She knew instantly where the spirit resided.
Adelaide opened the door and walked in and folded her arms. It was chilly and the energy was off.
There was a child’s bed covered with soft toys, a chest of drawers beneath a sash window, and, against the wall, the antique wardrobe in which the child claimed to have seen the ghost. Pixie nodded.
‘Your son’s right,’ she said. ‘There is a spirit in there. The spirit of a man.’
Adelaide looked horrified. ‘You can see him?’ she exclaimed.
‘I can. But you needn’t be afraid. He’s more frightened of you than you are of him.’
‘Why won’t he go away?’
‘Because he’s stuck.’
‘Stuck in the cupboard?’
‘No, stuck in limbo. He’s hiding in the cupboard because he’s afraid of us.’
‘Good Lord. Can you get rid of him?’
Pixie nodded again. ‘I think I can. Why don’t you go downstairs and make yourself a cup of coffee. Ulysses can go with you. I can do this on my own.’
Adelaide looked panicked. Pixie wasn’t sure which terrified her more, the ghost in the cupboard, or handsome Ulysses standing beside her.
Ulysses smiled, which startled Adelaide all the more. His smile was stunning. ‘Might I have a cup of tea?’ he asked. ‘Pixie won’t be long. Spirits in cupboards are usually easy to move on.’
Adelaide laughed nervously. ‘Do you get many spirits in cupboards?’ she asked.
‘You’d be surprised,’ Ulysses replied.
The two of them left the room. Adelaide closed the door behind them.
Pixie sat on the bed and folded her hands in her lap. She closed her eyes and took three deep breaths. She centred herself, allowing the material world around her to gradually recede, and connected to her inner world and her psychic sense.
She tuned in to the man, who was now standing outside the cupboard. Old and bewildered, he was trembling with fear. He looked as if he was wearing a dressing gown and slippers.
Can you hear me? she asked in her mind.
You’re English, he said, his voice thick with relief. Have they gone?
Who?
The Germans.
The Germans? Pixie suddenly understood what had happened, and she realised too, with a sinking heart, that she wasn’t going to have to slide. There was no mystery here. What year is it? she asked, pushing the thought of Cavill from her mind and focusing on the job.
February 1941, he answered without hesitation.
And the Germans are bombing London, Pixie cut in.
They’re in the house, he said anxiously. They’re here in the house. He meant Adelaide and her family, of course.
What’s your name? Pixie asked.
Alfie Hancock.
Listen Alfie, she began gently. She was going to have to tell the poor man that he was dead. He obviously had no clue. Most likely the house had been hit by a bomb and he’d been killed so quickly, he hadn’t registered that he’d died. Do you know how long you’ve been in that cupboard?
I don’t know, he answered vaguely.
You’ve been in that cupboard for a very long time. You’ve been in this house for a very long time. Do you know how long it’s been since you left the house?
He thought about it. When he eventually spoke, his voice quivered with fear. I think I’ve lost my mind. I don’t know when I last left the house. I don’t know when I last had a bite to eat.
But you’re not hungry, are you?
No. No, I’m not hungry.
There was no easy way to break it to him. Alfie, you haven’t lost your mind. You have nothing to be afraid of. The Germans who are living in this house are friends. The war ended nearly seventy years ago. It’s 2014 now and we’re allies with Germany.
I don’t understand.
You’re no longer living as you were before. You must have lost your life in the Blitz. I imagine this house was hit by a bomb that killed you.
He looked at his hands in astonishment. How can I be dead if I can see my body? I couldn’t see my body if I was dead, surely.
You’re in your spirit body, Alfie, she told him kindly. It was always a challenge to tell someone they were ‘dead’, when they felt very much alive. It’s time to go home. Your loved ones are waiting to welcome you. They’ve been waiting a long time, I suspect. Don’t you think you should go to them?
So this is death, is it? I don’t know what to make of it. I do remember a loud blast, a bomb … His voice trailed off. I hid in the cupboard.
You can leave the cupboard now, Alfie. There’s nothing to fear.
Pixie focused then on her chest where her heart centre was now glowing with an expanding light. Out of that light she created a door. Can you see a door of light, Alfie? Not for a moment did she take her attention off it but held it steady and bright with her mind.
Yes, yes I can. Well, I’ll be damned. Has that always been there?
Light has always been there, Alfie. It’s been trying to find you. But you haven’t been able to see it because of your fear. You need to walk through that door now, into the light.
Marjorie!
Pixie noticed then the figure of a woman, hovering in the doorway. She had a kind face and a wide smile, and glowed brightly, like a lightbulb. She held out her hands. Come on, Alfie. Goodness me, you’re a stubborn old man, aren’t you?
Marjorie. Dearest …
With that, Alfie Hancock moved seamlessly into spirit.