A Body Displaced (Lansin Island 2)

by Andrew Butcher

  ‘Uhhh …’ He opened his eyes. ‘That was weird.’ The bulk and strength of his adult body seemed to suddenly enclose him. He squirmed at the sensation.

  ‘What? What did you see?’ Fin stared with a face of fascination.

  ‘I saw the past.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  HER FIRST DAY back at Chanton Hillview had been positive. She put the office back to how it used to be, and checked over all the paperwork to make sure she was on top of it. She spent some time with customers, building rapport, and seeing what they liked about the café and what they felt could be improved.

  Towards closing time, though, she began to worry over her discussion with Roy.

  Did Austin lie to me?

  Back at home, she almost texted him to get to the bottom of it, but decided they should talk face-to-face. She called him and asked if he wanted to see her that evening. He said he was busy. Apparently he was amalgamating his research in preparation for his visit with his sister the next day. He wouldn’t be back until after Beltane celebrations were over.

  Juliet felt mixed about it all, wanting to spend more time with him, yet also vaguely mistrusting him. And even though she feared he would return to Birmingham and stay there, she couldn’t exactly say anything to him without sounding clingy and desperate. Not that her words would stop him anyway.

  As she tried to sleep that night, the thought of being lied to burnt into her, making her angrier than seemed normal. At first she didn’t know why it riled her so much, but then she realised why: She was being a massive hypocrite.

  I’m lying to everyone. She’d always thought of lying as selfish; who gave anyone the right to keep the truth completely to themselves? But now she was unsure. My best friend is on holiday with a murderer. How could I keep that from her? She knew how. If she tried to split up Kim and Ryan, then Ryan would probably murder both her and Kim, and then maybe even tell the authorities the truth about Aldrich’s death. And that would put Nicolas and his brothers in jail. Their father had already lost his wife. Juliet didn’t want him to lose his sons too.

  Memories of school friends came to her. It was through these friends that she’d developed her opinions on selfishness. There were the ones she had before her parents won the lottery, the ones who came after, and the ones she had throughout—like Kim. Once her mum and dad came into wealth, some friends began doing more for her. It was great at first, and Juliet had actually believed they were doing these things altruistically. But before she knew it they began using these ‘favours’ against her, expecting things in return. Expensive things.

  Kim was the only one who never put a price on her friendship. She was the same before and after Juliet’s family came into money. Although she liked to tease her about her wealth, specifying things Juliet should treat them both to (usually alcohol, nights in, days out, and shopping sprees), she never truly expected anything. She was one of the most unselfish people Juliet knew. And this is how I repay her.

  She tossed and turned. A thought came to her—one that had visited her many times over the months: Had she been selfish in cutting off contact with Nicolas? When she’d told him she never wanted to see him again, it had felt both right and wrong. Nicolas had saved her life, and for that alone she’d always feel something towards him. He’d also believed she was telling the truth about seeing spirits, as crazy as she must have sounded.

  Murder was the problem though; of all things she’d been confident she could face in life, witnessing a murder had not been one of them. She realised now that her reaction, making the deal with Ryan and then ditching the Crystan boys, had all been instinctual, simply her running away from a situation she had no confidence in handling.

  She fell asleep tormented by the notion that she could have dealt with everything better, and in her sleep, she dreamt. In a wet and warm place, she walked on mushy ground. It was dark, but light enough to see Tommy Crystan approaching. He handed her a knife. ‘You do it,’ he said, better spoken than in reality.

  ‘Do what?’ Her voice echoed, giving her a murky sense of her surroundings.

  Tommy pointed to a man lying down. Ryan. And for some reason, Juliet moved towards him with murderous intent. She thrust the blade forward, but Ryan transformed into Kim just as the weapon sank deep. With her best friend dead on the ground, Juliet stepped back, turning to find Tommy. He was gone. Instead she found Nicolas with a disappointed look on his face.

  ‘I never want to see you again,’ he said, and slunk into darkness.

  When she looked back to where Kim was meant to be, she found Lillian in her place, not dead, but gravely ill. She wanted to run to her gran, but she couldn’t. Her limbs were under someone else’s control. She gazed up to discover she was a marionette, and that her mother held the strings. Evelyn Maystone laughed down from above while Juliet’s dad cycled frantically on a machine that somehow gave power to the puppet strings.

  ‘Mum,’ pleaded Juliet. ‘This is my life.’ But even her voice was under manipulation. She couldn’t speak. She tried harder to talk to her parents, but to no avail. Eventually she realised the dark place she stood inside was her own mouth. Her perspective zoomed out and her teeth began to crumble.

  She desperately struggled to catch the fragments, to force them back into her gums, but more teeth shattered and fell away. The dream had a hopelessness to it that gave her lucidity. Wake up, she thought. Then a bright light appeared: the bobbing fairy-like thing that had led her to Aldrich’s portal. It floated towards her, growing larger on its way, and then expanded into a complete whiteness that woke her.

  Light gushed in through her bedroom window, though it wasn’t sunny; the morning sky wore a bright blanket of clouds.

  She shivered. The nightmare of her teeth falling out was a recurring one these past months, along with dreams of Aldrich’s blood-soaked corpse, but the other elements she’d endured were new.

  Aiming to get back to her usual self, she went for a jog along the cliff edge instead of in her personal gym. She did it purely for enjoyment. It didn’t wear her out in the slightest, but she savoured the feeling of her limbs in action. Near the end of her run, she had a moment where she remembered her nightmare. Her focus slipped and she felt the proximity of spirits. She had to stop, close her eyes, and regain her focus.

  With her mental wall back up, she headed home, feeling less sure of herself. She made an effort to avoid people she saw on the way, and managed to collect herself by the time she got back.

  In her house, she considered practising more self-defence, but a sudden realisation hit her. Believing she needed to defend herself was an essentially negative thought. And she liked to be positive. It was good that she knew the basics now, but if she got into the mindset of expecting peril around every corner, then wasn’t she just asking for danger? She thought of her gran’s perspective on the matter: I try not to do bad to others, and I’ve never been attacked in all my years. I like to think that’s how it works.

  And so Juliet mentally cut the routine out of her future.

  After breakfast with her gran, she left early for work. She wanted to experiment with something. She made her way to the High Street, where her café was situated on a road that branched off and ascended slightly, allowing the view of the hills to the north.

  Chanton wasn’t a particularly large town, but it was the most upper-class place to live on Lansin Island. Almost all the shops were on one long main street near the tip of Chanton, and along the way there were side roads with mostly independent stores, little quirky ones that sold arts and crafts.

  Juliet stopped and stood still, gazing up the High Street. Thinking of her sessions with Tamara, she tried switching on and off her mental wall, alert and ready to spot the spirits that might appear. If I can do this, take complete control, then I can be confident around others again … confident that spirits won’t distract me and make me appear odd.

  With her guard down, a twitch in the air came at her side. A man walked by. His shimmering aura gave away
what he was. Closing her eyes, she thought, I believe in my ability, I believe in what I can do. And the spirit was gone when her lids lifted open.

  Excited by her success, she did it again. This time she only saw spirits in the distance, one dawdling near a shop entrance, and another standing motionless in the middle of the road. Then she blocked them out.

  A man with a Jack Russell walked past, and the little dog gave a cautious growl to Juliet. The owner looked at her warily, as if he trusted his terrier’s instincts over anything else. Juliet realised she must have looked weird, standing at the end of the street, opening and closing her eyes and smiling to herself, and so she moved on.

  Heading to Chanton Hillview, she considered the issue that needed addressing today. At least now she was one hundred percent sure that no spirits could surprise her during her handling of the problem. And that was good, because talking to Sandra would be difficult enough as it was.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE MORNING OF May first, Nick cooked breakfast for himself while on the phone to Tom, his mobile pressed between his shoulder and ear. ‘Hey, did you have a good time last night?’ he asked, the smell of bacon drawing saliva into his mouth.

  He missed preparing breakfast for Kerra. They’d always taken it in turns.

  ‘It was as awesome as always.’ Tom’s grin could be heard in his voice. Both he and Michael had attended the Fire Festival the night before, and then went back to Michael’s house rather than stay at Nick’s. This time Nick wouldn’t have minded so much if Tom had brought Michael over, because he wanted to ask his colleague about the conversation with the black-haired man.

  ‘But …’ Tom’s tone turned sour, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. ‘I did see more boobs than I ever cared to see in my life!’

  ‘Oh, God’—Nick dragged out his voice sarcastically—‘poor you! How did you cope?’

  Tom was silent on the other end for a moment, probably not impressed.

  ‘I was only joking, Tom …’

  ‘Hmmm. Well, you’re about as funny as a lamp post.’

  Nick laughed at that, his brother joining in shortly afterwards. Tom had an endless amount of ‘You’re about as funny as ____’ jokes, and Nick was always interested to hear how his brother filled in the blank. ‘Thanks, Tom. Thanks a lot.’

  It was a quietly horrible moment; cracking jokes so easily, Nick realised he was getting used to Kerra not being around. And that was not okay. Maybe being miserable and mopey wouldn’t help to find her, but making jokes and getting cosy in her absence didn’t feel right either. He couldn’t even imagine the type of place or conditions his girlfriend might be in, while he stood here cooking breakfast and laughing with his brother on the phone.

  ‘That’s alright,’ said Tom. ‘There was another crappy thing about the festival. You know they usually have a fireworks display?’

  Nick nodded, his mobile whacking him in the ear uncomfortably. ‘Yeah,’ he said.

  ‘It wasn’t as good as usual. One of the actors told us all over a microphone that a load of the fireworks had been stolen.’

  ‘That sucks.’

  ‘Yep. I don’t know why someone would want to ruin it for everyone else.’

  Not wanting more negativity, Nick struggled for a response. He was keeping himself together, and thinking about thieves and selfish people might send him into dark thoughts about all the immoral people out there. After dishing up breakfast, he sat down with it. ‘I’m sure it didn’t spoil the night too much.’

  ‘No, not for most people.’ Tom laughed. ‘You don’t even want to know the amount of couples Michael and I caught a-Maying!’

  Nick huffed in light amusement. ‘You’re right. I don’t.’ Kerra and I might have liked to go a-Maying … he considered, thinking of his girlfriend’s adventurous side. ‘Anyway, I’m about to eat breakfast before it goes cold, but you haven’t told me how it went the other day … when you went to Dad’s house.’

  The line was quiet for a bit, and then a sigh came through. ‘Well, it wasn’t great,’ said Tom. ‘When I got there, Dad and Tommy were both downstairs, and Tommy saw me but didn’t say a thing. He wouldn’t even come near me. Then Dad and I started talking, having a catch-up, and as soon as I was out the way of the hallway, Tommy walked straight down it and then upstairs. He stayed up there until I left.’

  Nick’s heart sank. ‘This is really getting out of hand. If he keeps it up like this, then before we know it he will have gone a whole year without talking to you! It’s ridiculous.’

  ‘I know. But he’s plainly not interested in working things out.’

  ‘Ughhh,’ Nick grumbled. ‘I’ll go talk to him this week.’

  ‘I can’t believe he hasn’t spoken to you about what’s happened …’

  After sighing, Nick said, ‘Well, something’s obviously up with him. I thought he was just annoyed at you before, and only a little annoyed at me for letting you move in. Maybe he thought I was picking sides or something. But now I actually think he’s pissed off at me for some other reason.’

  ‘I don’t know why. He was fine with you before I came out. And we both watched over him after … what he did.’

  Nick was glad his brother didn’t mention the murder over the phone. For all he knew, Detective Talwar could be listening in. Though he doubted it. ‘Anyway,’ he said, and eyed the steam rising from his food. ‘I’ll talk to him, try find out what the problem is. I’m going to eat now, so I’ll speak to you later.’

  ‘Alright. Take care.’

  It was a dreary day for the maypole dance, cold and overcast, but Nick was sure it wouldn’t affect the coven’s enthusiasm. After breakfast, he donned dark skinny jeans, black winklepickers, and a plain green jumper with an old jacket he’d had for years over the top.

  With a glance in the mirror before he left, he wondered if chinos would suit him. Already, he had decided 2012 was the year of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee, the London Olympic Games, and chinos. Everybody was wearing chinos. And all anyone talked about on television were the upcoming Jubilee and the Olympics. Shame Nick didn’t care for either.

  I’ll stick with my skinnies, I think. With trousers on the mind, he remembered the vision he’d had the other night while Fin was over … Those light wash jeans his mother had worn. The experience made no sense. He couldn’t figure out if it was something that had actually happened or not, as he didn’t recall the memory. But it must have happened; it felt as real as his visions usually did.

  Seeing his mum again, as if she were alive, was both sad and amazing. Could he direct his power into the past to see her again? It was annoying that he’d tried so hard to bring on a premonition that would lead him to Kerra, only to end up in a pointless memory of years gone by.

  Where did it take place? In the vision there were ‘holiday beds,’ as he thought of them, the type provided in basic apartments or mobile homes. And the Pokémon game narrowed down the date a bit. But then, Nick’s family used to go on a lot of vacations: abroad once or twice a year, but also around the UK for caravan holidays or camping trips as much as possible. It could have been one of many places we stayed in.

  Seeing little value in it, he gave up trying to find the memory’s origin.

  He drove north, to the other side of town, where Mora lived. After parking outside her house, he rang her mobile to let her know he’d arrived and walked up to the door.

  Mora’s house was Victorian style, attached to a row of houses all built the same. It was large, considering she lived alone, and had been subtly decorated with flowers, plants, and a few Pagan symbols, giving the otherwise ordinary house a distinctive earthy feel. It was very much like Mora was with her faith: humble, reserved.

  When she answered the door, she handed a big sealed box to Nick. It was heavier than he was expecting and hurt his back at first. He trod carefully to the car and had to flatten out the backseats to fit the box in through the boot. Returning to the front door, he found Mora dressed in a plain, full-length green
robe. Flower clips were worked into her short hair. Nothing over the top. ‘Ready to go.’ She smiled brightly, a large bag of items in one hand.

  Nick drove to Wood Park, hoping the sky would brighten by the time they arrived, but when he parked and stepped out of the car, the day was greyer than before. He collected the box from the back of his Vauxhall Corsa and followed Mora.

  A thin, straight tree trunk with branches sawed off was wedged into the earth and stood only a few feet taller than Nick. Ribbons, waiting to be assigned dancers, hung from the trunk in the miserable weather, and a crowd of people huddled expectantly around the pole.

  With the maypole already set up, there wasn’t much for Nick to help out with. In the box he’d carried there were costumes and pipes and handheld drums and tambourines and garlands. Mora had also packed a selection of homemade foods, which Nick eyed hungrily, imagining how quickly the treats would disappear.

  While Mora conversed with her coven members, Nick plodded about awkwardly and only talked to the occasional person. The coven probably weren’t too keen on him since they’d tried to initiate him once, but he’d copped out after realising they welcomed people into their group skyclad—naked.

  At first, Nick didn’t acknowledge the presence of Janet Morgan or her family. There were a lot of people, so they must have been busy integrating, but eventually he caught Janet’s eyes. She looked away fast. Nick smiled to himself regretfully.

  Janet had gone all out on her outfit. Ribbons were weaved into her hair and dangled down to her billowing floral skirt, her face was decorated with swirls and bright colours, and her whole body was adorned with more jewellery than it seemed safe to wear. Her three children, two boys and one girl (who came into Creaky Crystals with their dad occasionally and begged their parents for new dragon and fairy statues), were also dressed in Wiccan wear. Janet’s husband was not a follower of the religion and wore plain clothes. He grinned cheerfully, though, getting involved.