The Room of Arches

by Alice J Black

  The Room of Arches

  The Soul Seekers - Book Two

  Alice J. Black

  Copyright © 2018 by Alice J. Black

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published by The Parliament House

  www.parliamenthousepress.com

  Edited by Maria Pease and David Rochelero

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  The Room of Arches

  About the Author

  The Parliament House

  The Room of Arches

  It seemed like an age since I last had a drink. Three months to be exact. Three months of complete sobriety, tears and fits and of course, cravings. At the point when I was just stepping into my abstinence like a baby taking its first steps, I thought they were never going to go away but they eventually began to fade, becoming less of an issue as the days went on. I still had my bad days and I always would, but for now I was okay and I was sober.

  There was a polite spattering of applause from the circle around the room as Mila handed me a chip. It was green and cool in my hands. I cupped it gently, feeling tears spring to my eyes as I stared at the chip. Three months sober. I’d done it. I’d achieved what I thought was impossible. Mila leaned forward, wrapped her arms around me and whispered in my ear. “Well done. I’m proud of you.”

  My chest swelled just that little bit more and I felt heat rush my cheeks. I had never been good at public speaking, or attention for that matter, and I was eager to get back to my seat. As she finally let go I glanced up briefly enough to see Adele patting my chair and smiles all meant for me. Pride. Pride is what I felt in that moment. Pride in what I’d achieved. Pride that I’d made someone else proud of me. Olivia would be stoked.

  I wish she were here to see it. It had taken a lot of support from her, one of my closest friends, and of course an extreme show of willpower to get here. I owed that woman my life. Without her I never would have gotten this far. Hell, I would never have stopped drinking. Having her see this tonight, the little presentation for me, would have been a a show of my gratitude for everything she’d done. Maybe at my next milestone I will invite her. I’m sure Mila would be happy with that.

  I hurried across the diameter of the circle and dropped into the seat. The clapping subsided as Mila moved onto the next testament and sobriety chip. Beside me, Adele leaned in close, the scent of her perfume drifting over me as she whispered, “Well done.”

  I turned to look at her, finding we were almost nose to nose, and grinned. “Thanks.”

  “Okay guys,” Mila clapped her hands together twice and drew attention back to the top of the circle where she sat. “Don’t forget that next week we’re having a celebratory party, so please remember to bring your assigned snacks. Have a safe night. Good night.”

  The closure of the meeting was punctuated with scraping chairs, shuffling and chatter that grew in a crescendo. I took a minute to watch the people around me. All of us in the same boat, each one of these individuals came to the meeting for one reason alone: to help themselves. And at whatever point everyone in the room was at, they were here and they were sober for today and that’s what mattered.

  Looking back six months, if I’d considered that I would be at a meeting for alcoholics while embracing my inner gift, I would have scoffed. Nobody could have seen it coming, let alone me. It had been a rough road so far but I had never walked alone and I knew that was the difference between staying on the straight and narrow and reaching for a drink.

  “You want to grab a coffee?” Adele asked as I stacked my chair on top of hers.

  I shook my head. “Normally I would have said yes, but I’m at work tomorrow. I’m still not sleeping well and I doubt that having a shot of caffeine right now would help.”

  “How’s that going?” she asked, her face lit up.

  I repressed the sigh that hid at the back of my throat. Olivia had not only helped me through my alcohol addiction, gutted my house and stuck by me when I told her I could sense spirits, but she had gotten me a part-time job. She had done more than I could have ever asked for. Getting a job for someone who had been an alcoholic, especially this early in the abstinence, was unheard of. I knew I was lucky, but it didn’t stop me filling with dread every time I thought of work.

  I knew it was important to stay busy on the road to sobriety. At the two-month hurdle when I was starting to stall with no goals in mind and things started to look bleak, she took the first opportunity to get me an interview. I’m sure she swung it just the way she wanted—after threatening to leave for being overworked and underpaid—and of course I landed the job. I worked in the same office as her at the solicitors’ behind the reception counter, answering phones and filing. It was a job and I was grateful to her for helping me out. But it wasn’t the most riveting work and if I had to keep wearing those smart clothes I thought I might rip them up and call in sick. I was a jeans-and-tank kind of girl and this was killing me.

  “It’s good.”

  “You sure about that?” Adele raised her brow.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Just takes some getting used to, that’s all. But I’m free tomorrow night if you want to do something then?”

  “Sure. Want to come over and I’ll cook? I don’t have the boys so it’ll be a quiet one.”

  The last time I went to Adele’s house for tea, I woke the very deadly, angry spirits that had been residing there in relative dormancy and then had to seek the help of a psychic to help me get rid of them. What could possibly go wrong? “Sounds nice.”

  “Let’s say six.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you then.” Leaning forward, I wrapped my arms around her and brought her in for a brief hug, inhaling the scent of her perfume deeply. Adele was swiftly becoming the much-needed second rock in my world. I made my way toward the door returning several waves and calls of good-bye on my way. It had been a long time since I felt like I was a part of anything. I was a part of this and though I was ashamed because of the reasons I was involved, it was like having a huge extended family. Sure, sometimes there were new faces and sometimes old ones disappeared off the radar. But more often than not there was a core number of group-goers that I saw twice a week and they always welcomed me into their fold.

  The night had a brisk chill and as I stepped from the hall into the darkness, I wrapped my coat a little tighter around my torso. I noticed with a smile that I had to loosen the belt to the next notch. I was putting on weight. In the normal world of women it was not normally a thing to be celebrated, but my body had been emaciated for far too long. It was about time I began to fill out my shape.

  It was a short walk home but I would be glad when I got Thumper back on the road. The part-time job was helping me save up for the tax and insurance and hopefully I’d be running around in my little car again. I grinned at the thought. Thumper was gifted to me by my parents when I first passed my test and I loved that car so much that I had gone everywhere in it, when I was sober enough, that is. The thought that I’d be back to normality would have made my parents happy. It’s just a shame it was too late for them to see it.

  My grin faded. I had some good memories from my youth. The time spent with my parents was always something nostalgic to look back on that always came with a sense of contentment tinged with sadness. Losing my parents had been the tipping point. I had already been drinking heavily at that point every day just to block out the voices of the dead, but their death was enough to push me over the edge into the oblivion of madness.

  I kn
ew then that it was no excuse and of course, I had finally admitted to myself that I drank because I was an alcoholic. I wanted to quell the demons in my head so I took the drink of the devil and doused myself in it. I wanted to forget everything, their death, the spirits that hounded me and alcohol was the easiest way to do it. I had hurt so many people. I had done some terrible things. And mostly I had lost a part of my life that I would never get back.

  I shook the thought from my mind. No point in dwelling on the past. The important thing was that I was clean now. Clean and sober and moving forward with my life.

  I moved down the street, cutting down the small pathway between the two rows of houses. It was a familiar sight and a warm welcome home. The porch light was still on and I knew the heating would have kicked in. The garden was looking just that—a garden—and I looked at my humble abode with a mix of pride and happiness. I smiled. Yes, I had come a long way.

  Inside, I shrugged out of my coat and hung it up—double-checking I’d locked the door—before stepping into the front room. I turned on the TV and headed into the kitchen to make a brew. I closed the curtains while I waited and watched as steam rose from the kettle.

  I scooped some instant coffee into a cup and added milk and then the hot water. For a second I considered swapping out for tea. After all, I’d declined Adele’s offer of a coffee because I wanted to sleep but then I knew I couldn’t do it. What better way to spend a chilly night in than with a cup of hot coffee?

  I made my way back into the front room and dropped onto the sofa, curling my legs up. It was so good to be home. And though I wasn’t exactly looking forward to work tomorrow, I was grateful to have the opportunity after such a squandered youth and would do what I could to repay my debt to society. After all, I’d sure caused some hell when I was drunk and the police knew me all too well. I was lucky to have a job and if this was a stepping stone to better things then I’d gladly take it.

  An old black-and-white film was playing on the screen and as I leaned back against the sofa, cup in hand, I smiled. This was much better than drinking any day.

  My phone beeped and I picked it up automatically, my eyes diverting to the smaller screen in my hand. It was Olivia.

  Three months chip tonight if I’m not mistaken, congrats!

  I grinned. That woman never missed a beat. I hadn’t told her and I’m sure as hell nobody else did, although I knew she and Adele were in regular contact now. She had kept a tally of the dates. Hell, if she were a bloke I’d kiss her.

  I typed a text back.

  Thanks! Winding down for work tomorrow.

  On the screen I watched as a PI talked to a beautiful woman in his office. She had a cigarette in her hand, the smoke curling into the air where it disappeared. Damn if she didn’t make that look exotic.

  Me? Of course not. Pick you up at the usual time. Night.

  I dropped my phone on the sofa and yawned. The usual time meant eight. I glanced at the clock on my mantelpiece. I knew I should probably call it a night but instead, I set my gaze on the TV screen and watched as the film progressed.

  I woke with a start as my cup fell to the floor. Jumping, I took in my surroundings. I saw the TV was still on, the black-and-white noir replaced with something bright and garish. Morning TV. Light filtered through the front room in slithers. “Shit!” I cursed as I glanced at the clock. I had fallen asleep in front of the screen and I only had ten minutes to get ready.

  Racing from my spot, I pelted up the stairs and had a wash as quickly as I could and then into the bedroom to pull on something that looked halfway decent. I gave myself a look in the mirror and turned away quickly. Those trousers were like torture and so not me, but I would make do for now. There would come a time when I didn’t need to dress to impress to get a job, but right now wasn’t it. I brushed my hair and tied it up into a top knot then sprayed some perfume.

  Then I heard my phone ring. Olivia was here. “Fuck!” I muttered under my breath. If there was one thing about my friend, it’s that she didn’t like to be kept waiting. I’d had plenty of experience of that in the past, namely her brother’s wedding when she picked me up after a heavy night on the drink after I woke up in the morgue of the funeral director’s my parents owned. That took a lot of explaining, or rather, avoiding.

  Flinging myself down the stairs, I grabbed my bag and phone, turned off the TV and left the house. I fumbled with the keys and almost dropped them before I locked the door and then I was half running down the little pathway. The morning was as brisk as the night had felt, but I shrugged it off. It wouldn’t matter if Olivia hated me forever for making her late for work, there was no chance I could go back.

  I made it to the end of the lane and spotted her car where it was pulled into a spot by the side of the road. I opened the door and flung myself inside with a deep sigh. Then I finally took a breath.

  “You look like shit,” Olivia greeted me.

  “Morning to you too,” I snapped, pulling on my seatbelt. “I fell asleep watching a film.”

  “Oh. You know that your shirt is buttoned wrong, right?”

  I glanced down and cursed again, proceeding to unbutton and then fasten them properly as Olivia pulled away from the kerb. Wearing a shirt had always been one of my pet peeves. They weren’t comfortable and occasionally disasters like this happened. Beats me why a person couldn’t just wear what they wanted. After all, in my opinion, clothing in no way dictates the way a person works. I could work just as well in sweats and a tank.

  It took just over half an hour to reach the office in rush-hour traffic. The huge house stood on a street amongst many others, nestled safely back from the road and surrounded in thick hedgerows. The building itself never ceased to amaze me. I knew it had a long life and plenty of history. For once, it seemed to be the only place I went that didn’t send my senses crazy as soon as I got anywhere near.

  Olivia pulled to a stop neatly in the parking spot at the back of the lot. She shut off the engine and reached for her bag in the footwell of the passenger seat, her hand brushing against my leg.

  “You just had to ask.” I grinned.

  “Ha ha,” she droned in her flat voice. “I think I’ve told you before that I’m not interested, Peyton. Let it go. Come on.”

  I shoved my door open and stepped out into the morning. The sun was bright but the chill in the air was unmistakable and I wished I’d had the foresight—and the time—to bring myself a coat. At least I would be indoors most of the day anyway. I met Olivia around the front of the car and we headed toward the building together. My lack of sleep was beginning to catch up on me and I rubbed my face and yawned.

  Olivia nudged me in the ribs with her elbow. “Seriously?”

  “I fell asleep watching TV.”

  The stare I got told me everything. It was my own fault.

  I turned my head back to the doorway in front of me. A huge, ornate arch held the original old oak doors, modified slightly with extra security measures. Beside them, a small gold plaque on the wall read that we were entering Stubbs and Oakley solicitors. Each time I passed the sign I couldn’t help but think that Oakley should have found a partner with a prettier name to sit with him on that sign.

  Olivia opened the door and stepped inside and I followed, already dreading the day. My days at the solicitors’ firm were mostly mundane but there was one thing that made me smile every morning as we passed through the entrance.

  “Morning, Stan,” I greeted the spirit that awaited us there.

  “Shut up!” Olivia hissed, swivelling to make sure we were alone. “You’ll get me fired.”

  I grinned. Stan greeted me with a nod of his head, as always. “Morning, Peyton. How are you?”

  He was a gentleman through and through. “Good. Thanks, Stan. Yourself?”

  “Oh, you know, just hanging around.” My grin widened until I caught Olivia’s scowl. Still, as she turned her back and headed further into the building, I winked at the spirit. It amused me no bounds that Olivia had
been working alongside a spirit this whole time.

  Stan had been there, on the other side, for a long time as far as I could tell. He hung around in the entrance and greeted me on my first morning there. Olivia’s face was a picture. Normally, my first instance in encountering a spirit would be to ask them to leave, but with Stan, there was something different. He was as placid as they came and when I spoke to him on that very morning he told me he knew what his status was and he simply wasn’t ready to move on. I was happy with that as long as he was

  I let the door shut behind me. Consultations were by appointment only and if anybody turned up there was a bell overhead that announced their arrival. This was great for me so I could tone down whatever language I was using at the time.

  Both Stubbs and Oakley themselves were always there very early—I suspected they were already in their respective offices in the floor above us. I had only been in one of them once and it was like something out a movie. There was a huge ornate desk, a wooden chair and panelling on the walls that gave it a sense of closing in on you. I’d kept my eyes on the walls the entire time, backing out without averting my gaze. I couldn’t have worked in there. At least the reception area where I worked with Olivia was open. We got the sunlight through the big bay window in the afternoon and the whole place was painted in cream, which was much better in my opinion.

  Olivia opened the reception door and held it open for me as we both stepped through. I dropped my bag underneath the counter and pulled out the laptop that had been given to me. Olivia had a computer that was set up on the desk but as I was part-time, this was what I got. As I waited for it to boot up I went to the small room at the back of the reception and flicked on the kettle. This was our usual routine whenever we worked together. Computers on ready, then coffee—because without coffee I found it hard to make it through the day. It had happened once. We both forgot to bring in a jar and I was devastated, flagging by noon and useless well before the end of the day. It had never happened again.