9
Julia listened to the phone ring. She was calling Helen Davenport, the psychic medium she’d met with in Florence, five years ago.
Helen’s bona fides were well established, and she was consulted by the Italian police and Scotland Yard.
Helen had offered her “mediumship lessons” to help her explore her “gift,” but Julia had been so disturbed that she hadn’t accepted the offer, a choice she hadn’t regretted until now.
“Helen Davenport,” she answered, her voice familiar, with an Irish lilt, and Julia pictured the chic seventy-something woman with her large hazel eyes, lovely, lined face with delicate features, and grayish-white hair cut in a hip bob.
The last time Julia had seen her, Helen had on a black turtleneck and black slacks, and they’d met in Helen’s classy Florentine apartment.
“Helen, this is Julia Pritzker. I don’t know if you remember me, but I came to see you, about five years ago?”
“Yes, I remember you.” Helen’s tone warmed. “How have you been?”
“Not good, that’s why I’m calling. Do you have a moment to talk?”
“Yes, briefly. I have an appointment in a few. How can I help you?”
“Well, I’m calling you from the States, in Pennsylvania. I’m here visiting my best friend. Her grandmother Kay Patterson was murdered.”
“Oh no, I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, and tonight I heard a scream in Kay’s garden, which she really loved, and before that, I saw a fire while I was driving, but nothing was there. What does this mean?” Julia didn’t know where to start, so she got to the point. “Was the scream Kay trying to communicate with me?”
“What do you think?”
“I’m asking you.”
“It’s not something I can answer. It’s something you have to interpret.”
Julia remembered that Helen always wanted her to figure everything out for herself, like therapy. “But you’re the expert. Police consult you on murder cases just like this one.”
“You’re not working with the authorities, are you?”
“No. I’m just here as a friend.”
“Good. You shouldn’t hold yourself out in that capacity. It takes experience in mediumship.” Helen paused. “Let me begin at the beginning, as a refresher. We think of life and death as binary, as in when you’re alive, you experience things, and when you’re dead, you don’t.”
“Okay.”
“Right now, we’re alive in a waking state of consciousness.
There’s also a subconscious that governs some of what we do, like smoking, and that’s why people can be hypnotized to stop smoking.
A skilled therapeutic hypnotist communicates with the subconscious.
When we sleep, or we’re in a coma, we’re in different states of consciousness.
” Helen’s tone turned professorial. “So there are different states of consciousness, a spectrum, if you will. Death is merely another state of consciousness on the spectrum. It’s the sensation of brain activity, but not of soul activity.
Your soul lives on as a consciousness, and some people have the ability to access that consciousness. That’s the essence of mediumship.”
“I understand.”
“I believe that you have some abilities as a medium.”
Julia swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”
“No, this is not a science, and the answers aren’t absolute.
I myself know people who experience a premonition or one or two visions, then never have another one.
I don’t know if that’s you or not.” Helen cleared her throat.
“But for present purposes, if you believe you were hearing Kay Patterson, then you were. You must trust yourself. This could be an initial contact, at her thin place.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Then you were correct.”
Julia took it as bad and good news, combined. “But I don’t understand why I didn’t see any blue, like before, with Caterina Sforza.”
“Not all souls communicate in the same way, with the same manifestations. Kay’s soul is communicating with yours in her own way. Heed her. Honor her.”
“How?”
“You know that answer. Simply allow her to reach you. You can’t force it. You’ll see. You’ll know.”
“But why didn’t she appear at the fire?”
“I don’t know.” Helen paused. “You may not be prepared to have a vision—”
“I don’t know if the fire was a vision,” Julia interrupted.
“You are the only one who knows for sure. That said, I must be frank with you. What I’m hearing from you now, and what I remember from our meeting, is that you have an unwillingness to accept your gift.”
No shit, Julia thought, then worried Helen could read her mind.
“That is not uncommon. The gift is a responsibility, and you must acclimate yourself to accepting it.”
“But what if I don’t want it? Or don’t know what I’m doing?”
“It’s of no moment whether you want it or not. Souls have an agency of their own. One cannot control other people, even after they’ve transitioned.”
Julia swallowed hard. “So you’re saying Kay will try to communicate with me, whether I like it or not?”
“I’m saying that she may try, and you would do well to allow her. She may have a reason to communicate with you.”
“She probably wants to tell me who killed her, right?”
“That seems possible.”
Julia’s chest went tight. “Has that happened to you in your cases?”
“Yes, of course.”
“How? And what do you do about it?”
“Well, every case is different. I won’t divulge details, but I will say that it’s rarely cut-and-dried. Sometimes a soul will offer you a piece of information or something akin to a clue, like a piece of a puzzle you have to put together.”
Great. “Look, I want to help my friend, but at the same time, I don’t understand what I’m seeing, like with the fire. If that’s a clue, I don’t know what it means. And I don’t want to mislead her or give her false hope.”
“I must say, I wish you had followed up with me. I could have helped you. We could even have done it over the phone.” Helen tsk-tsked.
“That said, you can do it yourself, on your own, but it is harder. Begin with making peace with the uncertainty you feel. Open your mind to the soul enlightening you, as time goes on.” Helen’s tone darkened.
“You’re entering a new world and you don’t feel ready, able, or even willing, correct? ”
“Exactly.”
“I have one word of caution. When Kay’s soul communicates with you, or when you experience one of these visions, you are living whatever is happening in the vision.
You are not a passive onlooker, like a person watching a TV show.
You are a participant. The vision will feel real to you because it will be real. It can thus induce trauma.”
Julia swallowed hard. It must be why she’d fainted in Kay’s garden.
“Take care of yourself. Expect it to be difficult. Let the trouble come and let it pass through you.”
“Will it?” Julia asked, nervous all over again.
“I can’t know that. I’m a medium, not a fortune-teller. But forward is the only way for you now. Trust yourself and your gift. Discover its reach and limits.” Helen cleared her throat, with finality. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Goodbye, now.”
“Thank you, goodbye.” Julia hung up, her thoughts swirling.
She tried to understand what Helen had told her.
She couldn’t control whether Kay’s spirit spoke to her, and the notion frightened her.
But at the same time, she had to admit that she wanted to help Courtney, and the only way to do that was to accept her abilities.
Julia felt struck by an idea. Maybe it wasn’t too late to take the mediumship lessons. Helen had said they could do them over the phone, and maybe they could start soon. Maybe Helen could even consult on Kay’s murder.
Julia was about to call Helen back, then remembered she had an appointment. Julia didn’t have Helen’s email but she knew the medium had a website. She took a guess on , plugged it in, and clicked.
The website popped onto the screen with Helen’s photo, but it was surrounded by a thick black frame.
Julia blinked, confused. She read the website:
HELEN CLARE DAVENPORT
NOVEMBER 15, 1952 – AUGUST 2, 2024
We’re sorry to say that our beloved Helen has passed away, from blood cancer.
Her transition was peaceful, surrounded by family and friends.
All of us who knew Helen loved her for her skills as a medium but, more importantly, for her warm heart, her steady guidance, and her loving-kindness.
Not to mention her wonderfully wry Irish sense of humor. She mentored so many of us…
What? Julia gasped, thunderstruck. Helen was dead?
Julia didn’t understand. Her heart started to pound. It wasn’t possible. They’d just had an entire conversation. She’d heard Helen’s voice. She’d called Helen’s phone number. She could prove it.
Julia scrolled to her phone function, then to Recents.
She gasped, shocked. The truth was staring her in the face, glowing in the dark. Julia’s last outgoing call was to Gianluca. The one before that was to Courtney.
She hadn’t called Helen, at all.