Chapter Two
Avril Merivale lived in a red-brick, terraced house on a cherry-lined street in Chiswick.
She worked at the College of Psychic Studies, which is where Pixie originally met her after leaving university and signing up for her tarot course, but since then the two women had formed a strong friendship, forged in Avril’s unique understanding of the ancient art of time travelling, and Pixie now visited her in her home.
Avril was a warm, demonstrative woman with a big personality, a generous heart, and a penchant for bright colours and playful jewellery.
Her home was full of giant amethyst caves, wind charms and dream catchers, but Avril was no cliché, nor was she a caricature of the archetypal fortune teller; she just had a good sense of humour.
In actuality, Avril was wise beyond her sixty-one years, pragmatic, sensible and straight-talking.
Above all, she had an extraordinary psychic ability, which she used to enlighten spiritual seekers, or to advise those who simply needed guidance in their lives.
Pixie had a very specific question in mind, and Avril was the only person to whom she could turn to answer it.
Pixie and Ulysses arrived in the afternoon, buffeted along the street by a robust wind that tore the leaves from the trees and sent them flying like orange paper aeroplanes into the damp air.
Avril saw them approaching up the wet pavement and opened the door before they had time to ring the bell.
She was dressed in a long, multi-coloured Jacquard cardigan, her cropped hair dyed ash white, a pair of silver glittery spectacles hanging on a beaded string over her ample breast. She greeted them enthusiastically and showed them into her cosy kitchen where a pink scented candle burned on the round table and a scarlet kettle steamed on the sideboard.
She had laid out coffee cake and biscuits in anticipation of their visit, along with pretty china teacups and saucers that didn’t match.
‘What can I get you?’ she asked, directing her question at Ulysses, because she knew Pixie would drink mint tea while Ulysses, being notoriously fussy, would more likely have a Coca-Cola or cordial. Ulysses considered it a moment, pulling out one of the spindle-back chairs and sitting down.
‘I’ll have elderflower cordial and cake,’ he replied.
‘I’m longing to hear how the timesliding is going, Pixie,’ Avril said, pouring boiling water into the teapot and popping in a handful of fresh mint.
‘I suspect that’s why you’re here?’ She looked at Pixie and arched an eyebrow.
‘I would even go as far as to predict that you’re wanting to take it a stage further. ’
Pixie was surprised. ‘Is there a stage further?’ she asked, hope flaring in her chest.
‘Of course.’ Avril put the teapot on the table and went to the cupboard to fetch a glass for Ulysses. ‘There’s always a stage further. Everything has its time, and you weren’t ready for the next stage. I imagine you are now. That’s why you’re here.’
Ulysses caught Pixie’s eye and pulled a startled face. Pixie ignored him and poured the tea. ‘I am here to talk about timesliding,’ she said.
‘Exciting!,’ Avril exclaimed. ‘I didn’t think it was purely a social visit.’
‘Well, it’s that too,’ said Pixie. ‘Obviously!’
Avril smiled. ‘I know that. But all the same, let’s get the pleasantries out of the way while I add a sprig of mint to Ulysses’ elderflower cordial. Don’t hold back on the cake, love, you’ll be doing me a favour if you eat it all. Then we can cut straight to the chase.’
They chatted while Avril busied herself making Ulysses’ drink, then she joined them at the table, knitted her fingers and gave Pixie her full attention. ‘Right, Pixie, I’m all ears.’
‘Okay, so let me fill you in. It’s been quite rocky to be honest.’
‘Take your time, don’t cut any corners. I want to hear the full story.’
Ulysses spoke through a mouthful of cake. ‘It’s quite a story,’ he said, widening his beautiful eyes. ‘No one else but you would believe it.’
‘That’s what I’m here for,’ Avril replied.
Pixie launched into her adventure without inhibition.
She described her two most recent slides from the beginning – from 1895 when she arrived at St Sidwell Manor as a governess and fell in love with Cavill, to 1912 when, as Constance, she experienced being murdered on the stair in the Aldershoffs’ mansion in New York and missing her rendezvous with Cavill the following morning.
Avril’s face grew serious as she took it all in.
Having taught Pixie how to hone her ability to time travel she felt she had a responsibility to guide her in doing it safely and sensibly.
It sounded like Pixie had allowed her feelings for Cavill to get way out of control, and that was concerning.
Ulysses, who hadn’t heard all the details of Pixie’s experience on the Titanic, stopped eating cake and listened with rapt concentration and an open mouth, punctuating her tale with gasps of ‘No!’ and ‘Holy moly!’
When she finished, Ulysses burst into exclamations. ‘That is some crazy shit, Pixie! You never told me about Mr Rowland and Orlando, and Mrs Brown! You also failed to mention that Constance was a suffragette. That’s insane!’
‘I didn’t have time to tell you everything,’ she replied.
‘You had time, you just didn’t have the will,’ he returned, a trifle petulantly.
Avril put a calming hand on his. ‘I imagine this must have needed a lot of processing, Ulysses. Occasionally, a little time is required before such things can be shared.’
He shrugged defensively. ‘I’m glad I came today, otherwise I might never have heard the full story.’
Pixie rolled her eyes. ‘Ulysses fell in love too, you know,’ she added with a grin. ‘In New York.’
The thought of Henry Stirling caused his face to soften. ‘This isn’t about me,’ he said, but his mouth curled into a smile.
‘We’re in this together,’ Pixie replied. ‘So, yes it is. It’s about us both.’
‘What a pair you are,’ said Avril, chuckling with amusement.
‘Well, he’s the lucky one,’ said Pixie. ‘Henry Stirling is a living person. Cavill Pengower died in 1943.’
‘Naturally, you want to get back to him,’ Avril stated.
Pixie was embarrassed to admit that she did.
She sipped her tea a moment, then she put down the cup and sighed, deliberating how best to explain what she really wanted when she wasn’t even sure herself.
‘Okay, so I believe I’ve started something with Cavill, which has gained a certain momentum.
The old wise woman in St Sidwell told me that love will always bring me back.
I realise now that her words have more significance that I realised.
You see, that’s what I think happened when I slid back to the Titanic.
Cavill was on it because I somehow caused him to be there, by a combination of the Law of Attraction and my desire. ’
Avril nodded slowly, her mind swiftly weighing up the possibilities.
‘You’re suggesting that if you hadn’t taken that job and slid back to the Titanic, Cavill wouldn’t have been on it?
’ she said. She narrowed her brown eyes thoughtfully.
‘But what if it’s the other way around? The entire slide was engineered around Cavill being on it?
He was always on it, only the Law of Attraction found you a case that linked into it, thus drawing you to him. ’
Pixie considered that, and after a moment’s pause concluded that both scenarios were entirely possible.
‘It could be either way, couldn’t it?’ she agreed.
‘Either I was drawn to Cavill, or he was drawn to me. The question is, am I going to attract slides to me that include him, or pull him into my future slides? Are our destinies forever entwined? Do I have to somehow undo it in order to be free of it?’ She frowned as the thought of never seeing him again caused something in her heart to pinch.
Instinctively, she put a hand to her breast and rubbed her sweater.
‘Obviously, I want to see him again and I don’t want to finish it, ever.
But I can’t slide from person to person and meet Cavill every time as someone different.
That’s mad. I can’t do that to him, and I can’t do that to myself.
You can’t imagine how horrible it is to see him and for him not to recognise me.
And to not be able to tell him the truth of who I really am.
It’s agony. I want to tell him, but I know he’ll think I’m crazy.
What do I do, Avril? Tell me what I should do? ’
Avril got up to make a fresh pot of tea.
She stood by the counter until the kettle boiled, lost in thought.
Pixie and Ulysses sat in silence – Pixie chewing on her thumb nail, Ulysses glancing at his phone in the hope of a text from Henry Stirling.
He was not disappointed. His thumbs moved quickly over the tiny keyboard in response.
Shortly, Avril returned to the table with the teapot and refilled their cups.
Then she sat back in her chair and nodded reflectively.
‘Right, we need to consider this carefully,’ she began slowly.
‘There’s no manual on how to timeslide, so we’re feeling our way.
This is what we know. Rule number one, you do not change anything in the past that might impact the future.
What you think is a small change, might end up having a massive consequence down the line.
It’s a definite no-no.’ Avril gave Pixie a hard stare.
‘I’m aware of that,’ said Pixie sheepishly. ‘And I’m aware of having already altered Cavill’s destiny.’ She lowered her eyes. ‘Potentially twice.’
Avril’s expression softened. She did not look at Pixie with condemnation, but with compassion.
‘There’s a strong possibility that by falling in love with Cavill, and obviously changing his destiny by inspiring him to fall in love with you, you have set a powerful energy in motion that is simply going to build and build until it fulfils itself. ’