by Aimée Avery
ISBN: 1-4421-4003-8
ISBN-13: 978-1-4421-4003-5
A LITTLE BIT PSYCHIC
First North American Printing 2009
Kindle version 2010
Copyright ©2008, 2009, 2010 Aimée Avery
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the permission of the author. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contact the author by e-mail at:
[email protected]
In Memory of
Linda Mobray-McCain
~ Your heart beat true, and so will your memory ~
&
Mary Stelma Ostrand
~ May you always show off your Dandies ~
~ For Jane ~
~ Special thanks to ~
Stevie, my Cabana Boy, for putting up with my hobby.
Dana & Debra for finding my errors. Let's hope I caught them all.
And to all my readers at Hyacinth Gardens and Austen Underground.
A Little Bit Psychic
Pride and Prejudice with a Modern Twist
Chapter 1
“Charlotte! Must you tell everyone?” Elizabeth Bennet asked her friend visiting from the United States.
“Oh, come on, Liz! It isn’t like I’m telling any state secrets or anything.” Charlotte smiled at her and then turned back to Liz’s mates. “Ever since I can remember, she’d have these dreams and, sure enough, every one came true.”
“Is she telling the truth, Elizabeth?” Margaret Martindale asked. “If she is, why in the world would you choose to study English Literature? I would think you’d want to do your thesis on something more, oh, I don’t know... The hidden powers of the brain?”
“I would love to be a little bit psychic,” Sally McKendrick mumbled.
“I am not psychic. For Pete’s sake!” Elizabeth exclaimed just before she gulped down the rest of her Strongbow. “I need another pint!”
As Elizabeth rose from her seat to venture back to the bar for a refill, Charlotte whispered to the others, “She has always been a bit touchy over the subject. The popular girls in our class used to ask her to tell their fortunes, and when she couldn’t do it, they would be quite mean. Her talents don’t come on demand.”
“I think it’s very interesting,” Margaret said as she sat straighter. “I have the greatest respect for Elizabeth, and would never treat her badly. I’d like to talk to her more about this.”
“Is that why she decided to work for her PhD in England, instead of the States?” Sally enquired.
“I think her mother was the deciding factor in that,” Charlotte said between sips. “Mrs. Bennet is a nice woman, just... well, she’s a bit much. If you know what I mean.”
Elizabeth returned to the table, put her drink down and sat hard in her chair. She looked around at each of the faces and felt guilty for snapping. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, and this wasn’t Longbourn High School. She was twenty-five, had a master’s degree in literature, and was actively working toward her PhD at the University of Greenwich.
She was lucky to have obtained a room in Devonport House, just across from the campus. She hoped to meet other postgraduate students, and maybe find a flat they could all share. Though the refurbished historic building was specifically for mature students in the postgraduate program, the £95 per week was a steep price for the small space. With such prices, she had to take a job tutoring to help finance her studies, thus turning her two-year program into four. Consequently, she hadn’t been able to befriend many postgraduate students. Instead she had befriended a few of the undergraduates she had been tutoring, and had just moved from the small space at Devonport House into a flat with three second-year Greenwich students.
Now, after a year in London, Elizabeth was glad that Charlotte Lucas had come to visit even if she deemed it necessary to tell her new flat mates about her prescient dreams.
“Elizabeth, please tell us more about this phenomenon,” Margaret suggested. “Not that this falls within the realm of my course of study, but I find all things to do with the brain fascinating. I’m positive that our brains have many powers we don’t understand or even use.”
“Thank you, Margaret.” Lizzy smiled. “I’ve spent a good deal of my childhood as the object of ridicule over this. I’m sorry to be so touchy.”
“No. No, I understand,” Margaret waved off her apology. “This is something I would like to research. Perhaps after I transfer, I can devote more time to it, but right now, I would like to hear about your experiences. Would you tell us? Please?”
Elizabeth looked at Charlotte, who shrugged then smiled, and pulled in a deep breath and started her story.
“Well, the first time I remember having one of these dreams and realizing they were coming true was when I was five...” Elizabeth explained how her father took the family to a summer retreat sponsored by his employer. It was at a lake that had large, modern cabins and an activities director to keep the children entertained while the adults relaxed. One rainy afternoon, the storms had been strong enough to knock out the electricity, and the children sat in the main cabin, listening to a story about a knight on a horse who saved the princess from an evil lord who wanted to be king.
“My sister, Jane, who was seven at the time, and I argued over whether there were such things as knights who would save damsels in distress. She insisted that there might have once been knights who did such things, but not anymore. I, of course, disagreed. She huffed and left me to go play with some other girls who like her, all had a crush on a boy named Will. I was upset at being abandoned and being told I was a baby for believing in stories, so I shot out of the cabin as soon as the rain stopped and ran into the woods.
“I had followed some of the boys through the woods, and knew about their ‘secret cave’ hideout, so I went there and played until I fell asleep. That’s when I had my first experience. I remember thinking that this wasn’t like a normal dream.”
Elizabeth explained how her young mind perceived the difference to a normal dream, then went on to tell them of the dream itself.
“I was in the cave and looked out to see that it was nearly dusk. I was very scared, and not sure I could find my way back in the dark. Then I saw a light flash into the cave, and thought it my knight come to save me. My knight came in and took my hand and led me back and my sister. Jane stomped her foot because I had this very pretty princess dress on; not to mention that the knight was the ten year-old boy that she had a big crush on.
“Well, I woke up with a smile, until I looked out of the cave and realized that it was dark like in my dream. And with the exception of the dress, my dream came true. The boy my sister had a crush on did find me and take me back.”
“Wow, that’s so cool,” Sally giggled.
“I still have the dreams, and they are never anything more than trivial bits, but they all start with a whistling sound and look as if I am looking at the future through a window.”
“I dreamed that Charlotte was going to get skates for her birthday, and about my youngest sister getting pregnant, then married to the bum she slept with. I also dreamed about Jane getting engaged, which she did. Things like that.”
“How often do you have the dreams?” Margaret asked.
“There is no regularity to them. And I’m not always asleep when I have them.”
“How do you dream if you aren’t asleep?” Sally asked.
“Well, it’s more like a daydream, Sally. But that rarely happens. My mind has to be blank, and I’m afraid that doesn’t occur very often.” Elizabeth laughed.
“Yeah, Liz. You really do think too much,” Charlotte laughed.
“Oh, hey! Here comes Mary!” Sally exclaimed as she rose and waved her hand frantically so the newcomer would spot the group.
“Charlotte, meet Mary King. Mary, this is my friend from home, Charlotte Lucas,” Elizabeth introduced them.
The two women exchanged greetings before Mary pulled a magazine from her messenger bag.
“Look what I bought on my way to the tube,” Mary pointed to the magazine.
“Whoa! Who’s the looker?” Charlotte asked.
“Oh my God! William Darcy! That man is so yummy!” Sally drooled over the glossy photo gracing the magazine cover.
Elizabeth started at the name, and looked at the magazine. It was a moment or two before she realized that the three women were staring at her. “What?”
“You zoned,” Charlotte said. “What did you see?”
“What are you talking about?” Elizabeth quickly brought her glass to her lips.
“Lizzy, you had one. What did you see?”
“Had one what?” Mary asked.
“You had one of those dreams, didn’t you?” Margaret asked.
“What dreams?” Mary looked back and forth between the women.
“Oh, Elizabeth is just a little bit psychic, and she saw something. And we want to know what!”
Elizabeth swallowed hard and wondered how she was going to explain that she just had her first “psychic” sex dream.
Chapter 2
“I really like your flat mates, Lizzy,” Charlotte said as she settled on the air mattress in Elizabeth’s room. “They all seem nice, though I’m not too sure about Mary.
“She’s just young, Char. I think this is her first time living away from home.”
“Maybe,” Charlotte offered as she stared into the darkness after switching off the light. “So, tell me about your ‘vision,’ and none of that crap about seeing a stupid antique bed in your bedroom that isn’t your bedroom.”
Elizabeth had stumbled just enough when explaining her psychic vision that Charlotte knew there was more than the description of the antique four poster she had seen in some consignment shop in a bedroom that was Lizzy’s, but not the one they were in now. Luckily, her new flat mates didn’t know her well enough yet to discern the deception.
“Spill, girl!”
“Um, well, I’m not sure I can, Charlotte.”
“Lizzy! Come on! We’ve been friends forever. There is nothing you can’t tell me,”
“It’s sort of… well, embarrassing,” Lizzy winced.
“Oh-kay. Go on.”
“Oh, all right! But don’t you dare tell anyone. And I mean anyone!”
“Fine. I won’t tell anyone. Do you need me to draw some blood too?”
“Ugh! Okay, okay.” Though happy the lights were out in the room, Elizabeth couldn’t help but cover her face with the blanket to hide from her embarrassment.
“Well, the four poster that I have been salivating over was in the dream, or at least a similar piece. And it was in a room that I know was my bedroom, but it was huge, and I have never seen it before. All my things were there and…”
“And what, Lizzy?”
“And there was someone else there with me.” Lizzy’s voice squeaked in discomfort.
“Who?”
“Oh, God!” Elizabeth mumbled. “It was… was… W-Will Darcy.”
“The guy on the magazine?” Charlotte sat up and stared at where she remembered Lizzy to have been when the room was illuminated.
“Yes.”
“Boy, your roomies are going to be jealous!”
“Charlotte! You can’t say anything! I had no idea the Will Darcy I knew as a kid was Britain’s juiciest bachelor now!”
“As a kid? Is he the knight-in-shining-armor Will?”
“Yeah. And someone I haven’t seen in many, many years, so…”
“Okay. I get it. So you don’t want them knowing you used to know the guy.”
“Right.”
“Fine. My lips are sealed. But what the heck was he doing in your bedroom in your vision?”
“This is the embarrassing part. We… We were having s… having sex.”
“W-What?” Charlotte laughed while Elizabeth buried her head under her pillow and moaned. “Oh, you have to tell me now! If you think I’m going to let you stop now, you’re nuts!”
Elizabeth closed her eyes and recalled the dream. She always remembered her visions with photographic accuracy and, what initially zipped through her mind in just a couple of seconds, was remembered in real time. As she aged, it seemed as if her “dreams” were more than just pictures, but experiences felt as well as visualized.
“I have no idea of where or when, but I do know that the bedroom we’re in is mine, as is the bed. I mean, I haven’t even seen this guy since I was fifteen. I’ve been here a year, and haven’t seen him. It is possible he knows I’m here in the UK. My dad does work for Darcy Corp.”
“But how is it that you are having sex?”
“I don’t know, Char!”
“Describe the sex part.” Charlotte commanded. “Exactly. Inquiring minds need to know.”
“I feel like I went to a porn movie.”
“Whoa! Okay, keep talking!” Char chuckled.
“Well, the dream started with me realizing the room and the bed. Then I realized that I was naked and up on my knees. I was looking up at the ceiling, and the next thing I realized was… Oh, this is so embarrassing!”
“I get that, Lizzy! But you know you have to tell me, so just pretend you are describing one of those scenes from those hot romance novels we used to palm from your mom.”
“Right.” Elizabeth blew out a breath and knew she would feel better telling someone about this particular dream. She would walk around for the next four weeks a nervous wreck if she didn’t. Charlotte may like to tell people she had “visions,” but if there was one thing Lizzy knew, it was that Charlotte wouldn’t reveal the content of any dream told to her.
“Well, I’m up on my knees because I am straddling him. He is underneath me and… and… and inside me…”
“Oh, good Lord! Whew. Who needs a trashy novel when there are your dreams, girl!”
“Charlotte!”
“Sorry. Go on.”
Elizabeth continued as she ignored the moans and groans of jealous pleasure Charlotte let out. Elizabeth closed her eyes and placed herself inside her mind. In a calm and composed voice, she described the vision.
“We’re on the bed. I’m on my knees, naked and straddling him. He’s inside me and, oh, does it feel wonderful. Full and tight. My breasts tingle and I look down at them. He is sitting up and is pinching my right breast with his fingers and sucking on my left. He says that I taste good. Then all of a sudden he’s grabbed a hold of my legs, and is lifting me so he can lay me down. But he doesn’t allow me to go all the way back on the bed. He’s holding me in such a way that he can get up on his knees, and the way it all feels makes me come like a volcano. Then I am on my back, and he is pounding into me and my legs are wrapped around him. I know he is about to come, and that is when you started calling to me and snapped me out of it.”
“Remind me to never call to you when you are in a trance.”
~ • ~
Elizabeth enjoyed Charlotte’s visit, even with her constant teasing over her “sex” dream. She was only too happy that Charlotte managed to keep her jabs either cryptic or executed only when they were alone. And after three weeks of showing her friend around London, Elizabeth escorted Charlotte to Heathrow by way of
London’s public transportation systems.
Charlotte, of course, managed to get in as many references to what she now called Elizabeth’s sex dream man or “SDM” in the hour or so the duo spent on the DLR, Jubilee and Piccadilly Lines. As much Elizabeth loved her friend, she was almost happy to see her leave.
Lizzy spent the ride back to her flat listening to an audio book on her iPod. By the time she boarded the DLR back to Greenwich, the audio book had been abandoned, and her nerves were just as itchy as when Charlotte was teasing her. It seemed William Darcy was very popular tabloid news, and everyone on the tube seemed to have a newsprint or magazine version of his face handy to stare at her. Elizabeth hoped the press was as fickle as her sister, Lydia, and as time passed, so would the focus of the subject the tabloids chose to concentrate on.
Elizabeth sat on the train and remembered the last time she saw William Darcy. She was fifteen. It had been ten years after he rescued her. Jane’s crush on him had ended in favor of fairer-haired boys, and Elizabeth’s had silently taken over. But, at fifteen, she was still tomboyish enough not to care about party dresses and makeup. She preferred to run about the lake playing volleyball and canoeing. Will hadn’t come to the summer retreats the three previous years. He’d been away at university. The now twenty year-old man came Lizzy’s fifteenth year to aid his recently widowed father. He also brought his girlfriend, his very feminine, model-esque girlfriend, Caroline Younge.
