Born to Be Trouble

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Born to Be Trouble Page 16

by Sheila Jeffries


  ‘Starlinda!’

  Tessa felt so drawn to her that she almost ran across the store, weaving her way through the rails of clothes. As soon as she was close to Starlinda she felt different. Calm, and excited, and at home.

  ‘Wonderful to see you, darling!’ Starlinda gave her a jasmine-scented hug, then looked deeply into her eyes. It was like being unwrapped. The layers of anxiety and resentment flaked away, and the real Tessa began to emerge like a creature awakening from hibernation.

  ‘Is Faye with you?’ Tessa asked.

  ‘No – she’s at college, and I wouldn’t get her in here. Portobello Road is her shopping place.’

  Tessa smiled. ‘Me too. It’s been so long. I tried to ring you.’

  ‘I’ve been in India.’

  ‘India?’

  Starlinda wasn’t going to waste time on normal chitchat. She looked searchingly at Tessa. ‘Who was it? Who hurt you so deeply?’

  The eyes went on looking at her. They were full of light. Tessa felt stunned. ‘Art,’ she whispered.

  Starlinda closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. ‘Yes,’ she said, as if in agreement. ‘I see it. I see him. It’s his karma. But you—’ She put a warm hand on Tessa’s arm, and the touch seemed to go right through her until it reached a place where she was still curled up in a ball of pain. ‘You need to spend time with me, sweetheart. I can show you how to clear that pain forever, and use your gifts. You’re so special. It’s not by chance we met today.’

  ‘It’s an awkward time for me,’ Tessa said, glancing round at Penelope and Paul.

  ‘Ring me. Have you still got my number?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Come and have a vegetarian supper with me – and we’ll talk.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Penelope was bearing down on them. She looked disapprovingly at Starlinda’s white trouser suit. But Paul’s eyes lit up and he gazed at Starlinda as if he thought she was a film star. Tessa wanted to introduce her, but Starlinda threw them a contemptuous glance. ‘I’m not going to engage with those two. I must dash. I’ve got an appointment.’

  ‘But Paul is my fiancé,’ Tessa said, flashing her engagement ring.

  Starlinda didn’t react like most people did, with warm wishes and congratulations. She stared at Tessa in silence for a moment. Then she opened the turquoise bag and took out a white diary with a golden pencil attached. ‘How about Thursday evening? About six. Can you manage that?’

  ‘Yes, I can.’

  ‘See you then. Got to dash.’ Starlinda turned and floated towards the lift, and when she had gone the store felt gloomy without her light, as if thick rain clouds had rolled over the sun.

  ‘Who is SHE?’ Paul asked, his eyes savouring the last glimpse of Starlinda disappearing into the lift. ‘And where are we going on Thursday night?’

  ‘That’s Faye’s mother. Starlinda.’

  ‘Starlinda, eh? She looks like a film star. Why didn’t you introduce her, Tessa?’

  ‘Thank goodness you didn’t,’ said Penelope. ‘I can’t stand flamboyant women like her.’

  ‘She’s lovely,’ Tessa said defensively. ‘She’s been very kind to me. And she’s a clairvoyant medium.’

  ‘WHAT?’

  The rails of coats trembled with the shockwave from Penelope’s disapproval. ‘I hope you are not associating with such a person, Tessa. Wicked charlatans, that’s what they are. Don’t you dare ever bring HER near my family.’

  ‘Sounds like we’re going to dinner with her, Thursday night!’ said Paul and his eyes danced mischievously. ‘Isn’t that right, Tessa?’

  Penelope turned on him like a sand dune in a dust storm. ‘You stay away from that woman, Paul. I won’t have some witch in a white trouser suit getting her jasmine-scented claws into MY son.’

  ‘Calm down, Mother dear. You’re making a scene.’

  ‘Paul wasn’t invited anyway. I’m going on my own,’ Tessa lifted her chin defiantly at Penelope, ‘whether you like it or not.’

  Tessa felt nervous as she rang Starlinda’s doorbell. She didn’t know why. Something major was going to happen, and she didn’t feel ready. The feeling floated in and out of her mind as if it didn’t belong there.

  She heard voices, and Starlinda came to the door with a wealthy-looking woman with sculpted silver hair and a bright pink coat swathed in a pink silk scarf with pink elephants and little golden tassels around the edges. She gave Starlinda a hug. ‘Thank you, my sweet angel. You’ve changed my life. I feel all joyful and exuberant!’

  ‘Do come back if you need to,’ Starlinda said confidentially. ‘Enjoy the journey!’

  ‘And who is this ANGEL?’ asked the pink lady, looking at Tessa. Her gaze felt like an illuminating searchlight.

  ‘I’m just an ordinary lump,’ Tessa said, embarrassed.

  The two women looked at each other. ‘Watch this space,’ Starlinda said confidently. ‘This is Tessa.’

  ‘Good luck, darling. Good luck on your journey,’ crooned the pink lady and her eyes sparkled at Tessa.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Tessa said.

  ‘Oh, but you are, darling angel – today’s the day.’ The pink lady swept her pink scarf around her square little shoulders and floated off down the street, turning once to wave a manicured hand.

  ‘That’s Stella Luna,’ Starlinda said. ‘She’s a healer. Come on in, Tessa.’

  Starlinda’s daughter, Faye, had once said to Tessa, ‘No one, but no one just goes to have coffee with Mum. She’s always got some devious agenda.’ Her scathing comment rang in Tessa’s mind, and so did Penelope’s slitty-eyed judgement about ‘wicked charlatans!’ – Starlinda didn’t seem like that to Tessa.

  ‘Coffee? Or a cold drink?’ Starlinda asked, leading her into the kitchen. ‘I’ve made us a vegetarian lasagne for later.’ She turned the heat down on the electric oven.

  ‘It smells wonderful,’ Tessa said, sniffing the wholesome aroma. ‘And I’d like something cold to drink, please.’

  Starlinda gave her a tall glass of water with ice cubes and a slice of pink grapefruit. ‘We’ll go into the sanctuary,’ she said. ‘Take your shoes off, please.’

  Tessa followed, her bare toes sinking into the pale apricot carpet. ‘I’ve never been in here!’

  ‘You’ve never been here without Faye. I’m afraid Faye’s energy is too dense to cope with the sacred flame.’

  As soon as she stepped inside the sanctuary, Tessa had goosebumps. It was like a cocoon. The walls and ceiling were draped in a soft white fabric, like butter muslin, the floor covered in lush white rugs and huge cream silk cushions with discreet motifs of Chinese lettering. A golden Buddha sat in a softly lit alcove, emanating stillness and peace. A tall candle stood in the arched window which overlooked the river, and two tall statues of Egyptian temple cats sat regally, one each side of it. In the centre of the room, on the floor, was another candle, burning inside a lantern, and an enormous clear quartz crystal. Next to it was a bell, and a turquoise bowl of water. There was no furniture at all.

  Tessa felt oddly at home, sitting on a cushion in the silent, soothing space. She felt like curling up there for a blissful snooze. She didn’t want to talk. It was indeed a sacred space, a pearl of silence in the turmoil of London, a place to listen.

  She was glad Starlinda didn’t seem to expect conversation but just let her sit and absorb the shared ambience of peace.

  Before she arrived, Tessa had made up her mind to say a firm no if Starlinda offered to do anything ‘spooky’, as Faye called it. ‘Shall I teach you to meditate? NO. Shall I contact your dead granny? NO. Shall I give you some healing? NO. The answers were all lined up like tennis balls ready to bat. But it wasn’t necessary. Starlinda simply sat there with her and said in a quiet voice, ‘Let’s close our eyes and be very still.’ And Tessa found her eyes closing and her body becoming light and motionless, like the Buddha. The feeling was a blessed relief from the constant pressure and watchfulness of living in London, a
rare sense of being loved, invisibly, unconditionally.

  When Starlinda did begin to speak, her voice was velvety and confident. ‘Do you trust me to take you on a beautiful journey, Tessa?’ she asked. ‘Just say yes or no.’

  ‘Yes,’ Tessa heard herself whisper. The contents of her mind sailed past her like pieces of litter on a stream. Penelope’s comments about ‘charlatans’ were there, and Paul’s admonitions about ‘mumbo jumbo’. Then older stuff, from her childhood. The Reverend Reminsy’s face close to hers, barking: ‘This nonsense has got to STOP’. Her mother saying, ‘Even if you do see ghosts you are not to talk about it’. And her dad’s heavy silence, the look of knowing in the blue of his eyes as if an undiscovered world glistened distantly, a forbidden world. She let it all drift by as she listened to Starlinda’s velvet voice.

  ‘Imagine your heart as a golden flower,’ Starlinda said, ‘a shining flower with twelve golden petals open to the sun. It wants every petal open, so that you can receive all the light, all the love that is there for you.’ She paused, and then gently asked, ‘How many petals of your heart-flower are open, Tessa? Give me the first number that comes.’

  ‘Two,’ Tessa said immediately.

  ‘Then take your time, and allow all twelve beautiful petals to open. It’s very easy to do – it’s so soft and gentle.’

  Tessa held the vision of the golden flower. It felt so right, like something she had always known from the moment of her birth. She knew how slowly petals opened for she had observed them many times, sitting in the wild flower meadows of Monterose, or by the river staring at the yellow bottle lilies, or in the garden watching a tulip open in the morning sun. It was something so magical that even breathing seemed too loud, too fast, too human to belong to such enchantment. She felt it now, as if time was suspended while she allowed the twelve petals of her heart-flower to open fully.

  ‘Welcome.’ Starlinda’s voice changed and became even softer, more whispery, and the quality of listening became intense. It sparkled with magic. ‘Welcome,’ she repeated, ‘for you have come home, Tessa, you have come home to the heart. In this space you will find the tranquillity you have longed for.’

  Tessa’s eyes were closed, yet she was seeing colours brighter and more vibrant than any in the real world.

  ‘Go into the centre of your beautiful heart-flower,’ continued Starlinda, ‘and you will find a sacred, eternal flame. Within the flame is a precious pearl. This pearl is your true self. It has always been there, in the heart of the heart, across time. It is the essence of who you are, and it will never leave you. Go into the centre of this precious pearl as if it were a room, a sacred space where you may rest, a sanctuary where the angels and guides who have always loved you can come and talk with you, or sing with you, or just give you divine love and joy.’

  Afloat in the shining silence, Tessa sensed the space inside her ‘pearl’. It was changing, image melting into image, until it became an alcove inside a temple garden. The earth was alive and vibrant under her feet, the air infused with an exotic fragrance.

  ‘Where are you?’ Starlinda asked quietly.

  ‘In the temple garden.’

  ‘What are you sitting on?’

  ‘A curved stone seat, set into a wall, and the wall is full of twinkling crystal.’

  ‘Can you describe it more fully?’ Starlinda asked. ‘What sounds can you hear? What plants are growing nearby? What time of day is it?’

  ‘It’s very still,’ Tessa said. ‘It’s early morning, and there are song thrushes singing all around me.’ She paused, feeling the sudden lurch of tears in her voice.

  Starlinda led her on, with confident skill. ‘You can do this, Tessa. The sadness will pass, like a gentle breeze, and you will emerge, joyful and refreshed. Just breathe.’

  ‘I can hear the sea,’ Tessa whispered, and her serenity vanished into turbulent waters, rapids and foam, tearing her away into darkness, into heartbreak. ‘I need to go home,’ she wept, and curled up in a ball on the floor. ‘I need to go home SO much.’

  CHAPTER 12

  The Kundalini

  The sound of drums echoed across the frozen earth. Not war drums, but peace drums. The hippies were gathering at Stonehenge, wending their way through the freezing fog, along the switchback roads of Salisbury Plain. The roadside verges were a wonderland of seed heads, ferns and grasses encrusted in a ghostly frost that glistened with a light of its own. Beech and hawthorn trees hung over the lanes, traceries of twigs glazed with ice crystals, rustling and tinkling if anything moved below their canopies.

  The hippies were arriving in small groups, in their Afghan coats and ethnic shawls, some in camper vans, others on foot, having hitchhiked or trudged for miles.

  ‘You’re not really going to MARRY him, are you, Tessa?’ Lou asked as the three of them plodded towards the stones, Lou with her drums strapped to her back, Clare trailing behind, vacant-eyed and silent. Around them the icy fog seemed infused with the mystic lustre of pearls.

  ‘I am, yes,’ Tessa said heavily. She flashed her engagement ring at Lou.

  Predictably, Lou was not impressed. ‘Why don’t you just shack up with Paul?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain.’

  ‘Try.’

  ‘Okay – Lou – it’s family stuff.’

  ‘Expectations?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Who from? His folks or yours?’

  ‘Both. But mostly my mum. She broke her heart – seriously – over Lucy, and she’s dreamed for years of a white wedding – a fairy-tale wedding like she and Dad apparently had.’

  ‘But you can’t wreck your life, Tessa, for your mum’s fantasy.’

  ‘I’m not wrecking my life. Paul really loves me, and he needs the security of marriage – he’s actually insecure.’

  ‘He’s moody.’

  ‘So am I,’ Tessa said. ‘We’re two moodies together.’

  ‘Oh God, Tessa!’ Lou’s eyes smouldered from under the wide-brimmed brown felt hat she was wearing. It was coated in frost. ‘That’s a recipe for disaster.’

  ‘No, it’s not. I’m strong. Stronger than him. I can give him the support he’s never had from his folks. He’s a brilliant musician, and they don’t appreciate him. They want him to study law like his dad. They belittle him all the time. No one’s ever believed in him like I do.’

  ‘But, Tessa – come on – you still love Art. I know you do.’

  Tessa sighed. ‘It’s over, Lou, long ago.’

  ‘But what if he came back to you? You two were SO fantastic together – but – well, you wouldn’t trust him ever again, I suppose.’

  ‘Probably not,’ Tessa said. ‘I’m hoping Art won’t be there at Stonehenge. I couldn’t bear it, if I saw him – I really couldn’t.’

  ‘We’ll be there with you.’ Lou tucked her arm into Tessa’s in a friendly way. ‘You can sit with me and do some drumming.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Tessa was quiet as they drew close to Stonehenge and saw the monolithic slabs of stone towering over them in the mist. There were hippies everywhere, leaning against the stones, or sitting in circles around the glow of a fire. The air smelled of incense and sage leaf. Tessa found herself wishing she hadn’t come – she felt lost and deeply cold, and all she wanted to do was wander about, searching hopelessly for the familiar psychedelic colours of Art’s bus. Was Lou right? Was she still totally, hopelessly in love with him? Could she bear to see him with Rowan and their precious child?

  Paul had refused to go with her. A music exam, he’d claimed. He’d offered to borrow his dad’s white Mercedes and drive her down to Monterose. He didn’t want to be part of the hippie scene any more, especially, he said pompously, if it involved festivals like the winter solstice. But Tessa was passionate about celebrating the solstice. All through her childhood Freddie had taken her and Lucy into the woods and hills on what he called ‘the shortest day’. It was like the turn of the tide, he’d said. You could touch the earth and feel the change
in your bones. You could touch a tree and feel it waking up. They’d sit in the red-gold beech wood and listen for song thrushes, and there always was one singing at noon on the day of the solstice. The song had been a symbol, a confirmation that everything was all right, spring would arrive and the earth would once again be warm and fragrant with bluebells. And when the thrush had begun its song, Freddie would take them into the orchard and lift them high on his shoulders to pick mistletoe. The white berry, he said, represented the returning sun. Then he’d remind them it was Granny Barcussy who had given him all that knowledge.

  ‘I need to be on my own,’ Tessa said.

  ‘No, you don’t.’ Lou put her favourite drum into Tessa’s cold hands. ‘You can’t go wandering off in the mist. There’s nowhere to go around here.’

  They joined a circle of drummers around a crackling fire. Drumming and chanting and dancing. Despite herself, Tessa couldn’t resist the invigorating rhythms of the five elements which Lou had taught her. It was powerful. She began to feel warm and alive, part of something special. She sensed the earth below her listening, responding in some mysterious way. Earth, air, fire, water and the human heartbeat. She danced with Clare and a group of other women, generating heat in the frosted night. In the last hour before dawn, the Druids appeared, and everyone fell silent. The mist cleared, the fires softened into embers, and the silence hummed with anticipation.

  Tessa sat cross-legged, facing East in perfect stillness. And as the first rose-gold ray of the rising sun touched her chestnut hair, she felt an intensity beyond anything she had ever experienced. It shot up her spine, like a golden flower growing through her, opening its petals at the crown of her head. In that moment she saw the cold winter sky criss-crossed with geometric flower patterns like a celestial kaleidoscope. She saw the earth become bright with limitless lines of gold, ancient paths, perfect and straight, connecting the sacred sites of churches, holy wells and stones, Celtic crosses and beacons. Spellbound, she found her mind flying along one particular line. A line right through Monterose, through the garden of The Pines where she had played, and on towards Glastonbury.

 

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