44 Gilmore Street

by Shani Struthers

  “Oh?”

  “You’re dubious about taking on her case, trying to find answers, but answers is what she needs. The girl is adopted, she doesn’t get on with her adoptive parents, they had two children after her, both naturally conceived, and she’s always felt she was a bit of a ‘rash decision’ – her words not mine.” All eyes were on Ness now as she continued. “She went off the rails when she was younger, had a bit of a breakdown, I gather and currently she’s living in a hostel, trying to get her life back on track. What’s happening to her – these flashbacks and dreams, these feelings – I think they’re genuine—”

  It was Theo who interrupted. “Not necessarily. People are more than capable of deceiving themselves – and by proxy us – by dredging up long forgotten images and impressions from the unconscious, scenes from a film perhaps, seen when young, or a story overheard. I’m not saying it’s deliberate, not with Ellie, but often there’s a more mundane explanation.”

  “Oh come on, Theo,” Ness was clearly annoyed. “There are many extraordinary claims out there that can’t be attributed to the mundane. What about children who can recognise relatives from an earlier life, who can identify long-dead family members from photographs they’ve never seen before? Yes, spirits go to the light but you know as well as I do that often they come back again, in another body, another country, in another era. Some cases aren’t even linear and they’re far from mundane.”

  “Yes, yes,” muttered Theo, waving a hand in the air, “you’re right I suppose, and, as for not every case being linear, don’t get me started on quantum physics, we’ll be here all day.” Adopting a suitably sorrowful expression, Theo continued, “I have a sneaking suspicion about myself you know, that I drowned in one of my previous reincarnations. Reggie suggested a cruise once. I was horrified, won’t go anywhere near the sea if I can help it, feel much safer on terra firma. In relation to Ellie, all I’m saying is that perhaps something’s been suggested to her and she’s run with it.”

  “She can’t even remember her name,” Ruby pointed out. “That’s convenient isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean, ‘convenient’?” Ness challenged.

  “Well, I’ve been spending time researching this subject,” answered Ruby. “Does anybody remember a film called The Search for Bridey Murphy?”

  Only Theo said it ‘rang a bell’.

  “It’s not surprising,” Ruby continued, “it’s an old film, from the 1950s but, and here’s the point, it revolves around one of the best-known reincarnation stories out there apparently. In 1952, Ruth Simmons underwent a series of hypnosis sessions – regression in other words. She suddenly started to speak with a heavy Irish accent and remembered specific details from her life as Bridey Murphy, who had lived in Belfast, during the nineteenth century. A lot of the things she said couldn’t be verified, but she recalled two people from whom she used to buy her food, I forget their names but anyway, a search of the town directory for 1865 I think it was, listed them as grocers. Ruth was able to give details that could be corroborated. Ellie, so far, hasn’t.”

  “She’s only had two sessions,” Ness defended.

  “I know, but if she can remember certain things, why not names?”

  Ness shrugged, looking genuinely perplexed. “I don’t know, but Ellie’s case is genuine. I know it is. I’m trusting my instinct here.”

  “So Ellie stayed behind did she, you talked to her?”

  “I did.”

  “Okay,” Ruby continued. “What I want to know, Ness, is this your case or Psychic Surveys? If it’s the latter, shouldn’t we have both talked to her?”

  Again, the room held its breath, Ruby right along with it.

  “You rushed off—”

  “Because the session had been declared over. Everyone was leaving. Or at least that was the impression I was given.”

  Their eyes locked.

  “Decide, Ness, whether this is your case or a company case. I understand Ellie’s fragile and I can see that you empathise with her, but if it’s a company case, if it comes under the Psychic Surveys banner, then please, no more private interviews. Include me at every stage or take it off the books.”

  As Ness continued to stare, Ruby did her best not to look away.

  Chapter Eleven

  “That was a bit harsh wasn’t it?”

  Later that morning, Ruby and Cash were in the car driving over to Hastings to see her mother and grandmother for lunch. Jed had decided to join them.

  “Ruby, listen to me. What you said to Ness, was there really a call for it?”

  To be fair, Ruby was asking herself the same thing. Had she been too harsh? It didn’t seem so at the time but in retrospect she wasn’t so sure. All Ellie had done was stay behind for a little bit. All Ness had done was talk to her. Why had she got the needle about it? Was she feeling insecure, was that it? A little out of control even, her mojo still in temporary suspension? At least she hoped it was temporary.

  “Ruby,” Cash cajoled, “come on, talk to me.”

  She found herself gripping the steering wheel hard. “Look, Cash, I’ve got the afternoon off, let’s not talk about work, about colleagues, let’s just have a break. Ness and I… we’re fine. I wanted to make it clear where I stood that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Her defensive response wasn’t lost on Cash either; his raised eyebrows were testament to that. Even so, she was glad he didn’t persist.

  The standoff with Ness had effectively ended the meeting. Everyone had started shuffling around in seats or fidgeting with mugs, pushing them back and forth, clearly embarrassed. Ness had been the first to stand up, her chair scraping against the floor as she did so.

  “When would you like us to be at Gilmore Street on Monday?”

  “Ten o’ clock,” Ruby suggested, keeping her voice steady.

  “Ten o’ clock it is. Have a good weekend.”

  Theo had stood next. “What are you up to this afternoon, Ruby? Not working I hope?” Not just a question there’d been a warning in there too.

  “We’re going over to Gran’s, she cooking for us.”

  “Good,” Theo replied. “Perhaps leave the mobile at home, eh?”

  With that she had left the attic too. Only Corinna remained.

  “Ruby, Presley and I are going to the Rights of Man for a drink later. Why don’t you and Cash join us? If you’re back in time from Hastings that is.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that would be lovely. We’ll see how it goes.”

  The way they were acting reminded her of how they had treated her last year, when she’d been affected so negatively by the entity. They’d tiptoed around her, been ‘wary’, before fully realising what the matter was, before she’d even realised it. There was no need to be wary of her again, all she was doing was asserting her authority. Okay, she was young – younger than Ness – but there was no crime in that. Surely everyone could see her point?

  For the rest of the journey she and Cash sat in silence, Cash turning up the CD player to listen to The Decemberists. He and Presley were in a band, Thousand Island Park, and the group currently playing were one of their biggest influences. Cash had replaced the drummer, Danny, who was a best friend of Presley’s. He had committed suicide last year before Psychic Surveys could help him, convinced he was possessed by the devil – an entity similar to the one that had attacked Ruby. She wished they could have helped him. Cash might be the new drummer, but Danny wasn’t forgotten.

  Arriving in Hastings, Ruby drove towards the Old Town. The streets around her were busy, goods from shops spilling out onto the pavement, as eclectic a selection as was on offer in Lewes. Parking the car, she switched off the engine. As she did, Cash leant across and drew her to him.

  “You work too hard, Ruby.” His voice sounded muffled against her hair.

  “Cash, I don’t want to talk about work—”

  “I know, I know, I’m just saying.” He pulled away, held her gaze instead. “You never told me that Ben attack
ed you.”

  “It’s nothing,” she dismissed.

  “It’s hardly nothing, Ruby. I’ll come with you all on Monday shall I?”

  She started laughing. “What you going to do? Square up to him for me?”

  He tickled her ribcage, causing her to squeal out loud. “As a matter of fact, yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, square up to him if needs be. I’ve told you before, I ain’t afraid of no ghost. Spirit or not, I’ll sort him out.”

  “Sort him out? Cash! That’s not the attitude.” After a few moments her laughter died down, she started worrying again instead. “Talking of attitudes, mine’s crap, isn’t it? You’re right, what I said to Ness wasn’t called for.”

  Cash shook his head. Around his neck the obsidian necklace she’d given him when they first met swayed slightly. “It was heavy handed, that’s all.”

  “I am the boss!” she protested.

  “And they’re your friends, Ruby, not just your work colleagues. They’ve stood by you, through thick and thin.”

  She sighed, had to look away. “Cheers, Cash, for making me feel bad.”

  “I’m not, I don’t mean to.” With one hand he turned her face towards him. “Take it easy, okay? Not just on everyone else but on yourself too.”

  “I just… I don’t see where it’s going with Ellie that’s all.”

  “Give it a chance and if Ness wants to take the lead let her. This shouldn’t be a matter of pride.”

  Pride – is that what she was guilty of, one of the seven deadly sins? Feeding the ‘bad wolf’ within? Susan came to mind, someone else from last year, a grounded spirit that had been murdered by her so-called ‘lover’ and her soul left to fester at the foot of a Victorian arched bridge on the Cuckoo Trail in East Sussex. A notorious site, it was known as ‘Emily’s Bridge’, the legend of a local nineteenth century suicide attached to it. But if Emily had done the deed there, she’d moved on. It was Susan from a more recent era that haunted it, a young girl who was teased and tormented by local teens – teens that used the bridge as a gathering place and sensed a presence, were excited by it. In life, Susan had had Downs Syndrome, a condition that was still presenting itself in death. Although she too had been aggressive at first, preparing to attack Ruby, they’d reached an understanding and finally, Susan had gone on her way. But she came back – albeit in an esoteric sense – to tell Ruby that she was good inside. Ruby could recite her words exactly: Never forget how good you are, how bright you shine. Hold onto that. Before she could ask her what she meant, why she had to remember, Susan had gone. That was the last she’d seen of her. Whatever the meaning, Ruby clung to those words – they seemed to be more pertinent now than ever.

  “Ruby, Cash, come in!”

  Sarah, her grandmother, held the door wide open for them, both Ruby and Cash kissing her on the cheek as they squeezed past, edging their way down the long and narrow hallway into the kitchen beyond. In her late seventies, Gran was still a keen baker, often making her own bread and biscuits. Certainly she had today, the aroma was wonderful, Cash practically swooning at the prospect of sampling some homemade goodies. Her mother, Jessica, was already in the kitchen, stirring a pot of something. She beamed at her daughter as she entered, Ruby’s breath hitching slightly as she did so. This was the way she remembered her as a child, her mother beaming at her, laughing, always laughing. Possessing such a zest for life. That had all stopped when Ruby turned seven. She felt a pang of sadness suddenly – for the years lost. Never to be regained. The waste.

  Jessica too hurried over to give each of them a kiss and a hug, bending to give Jed, who was also sniffing the air, a ‘pat’ on the head. “Lunch is almost ready, I’ve made leek and potato soup and Gran’s made bread.”

  “I can smell the bread,” answered Ruby.

  “Me too,” Cash enthused. “I can’t wait.”

  “Saul’s going to join us, I hope that’s all right?”

  Jessica’s one time partner-in-crime? Of course it was.

  “Oh, there’s the bell, I think that’s him. I’ll go and answer it.”

  As Jessica left, Cash turned to Ruby. “At least she didn’t say ‘talk of the devil’, that’s something,” he whispered.

  Sarah, meanwhile, had entered the room. “I heard that, young man.”

  Cash looked horrified. “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…”

  Ruby started giggling. “It’s okay, Cash, Gran’s not angry.”

  Humour – it was a weapon against the darkness – that was another thing Theo was always saying. And her gran would agree, wholeheartedly.

  Ruby had first met Saul as a child, before the ‘conjuring’ and she’d been frightened by him, by the coldness of his ice-blue eyes and the hold he had on her mother. As young as she was, she could recognise how ‘unhealthy’ it was. The second time had been when they were gathering everyone together to stand against the entity – years and years later – having been there when Jessica had raised it, it was only right he should be there when they tried to defeat it. Only slightly older than her mother, he was broken too, in hiding, looked after by his father. Now also in recovery, he’d put on weight, wasn’t so stooped, he was more alive, his life force flowing within him instead of being leeched. Entering in tandem with Jessica – who was fussing round him – she directed him towards a chair and made him sit. As he did, he smiled wryly at Ruby, taking Jessica’s ‘fussing’ in good heart.

  At her grandmother’s insistence, they all sat and lunch was served, with soup ladled into large bowls and hunks of bread placed on a plate in the middle, which they grabbed at eagerly. As everyone talked in-between mouthfuls, everyday chitchat, Ruby felt the earlier tension start to ebb.

  After bowls had been cleared and all the bread eaten – Jed looking on forlornly, no doubt wishing he could indulge in a thickly-buttered slice too – the conversation turned to the business of Psychic Surveys, as she knew it would. Sarah and Jessica always wanted to hear the latest news, what cases she’d been working on, how busy she was. She didn’t want to talk about work – she’d already told Cash that – but it seemed churlish not to give them at least a breakdown of the week’s events. After that, maybe she’d broach the subject of holidays instead. Tell them she was contemplating one.

  She told them about the old woman in East Preston; the rabbit, about which even her grandmother had raised an amused eyebrow; Gilmore Street – leaving out the bit about the psychic attack; and, of course, about Ellie. It wasn’t long before she regretted her honesty. Ellie’s case was the one they were most interested in, Saul in particular.

  “Reincarnation,” he was saying, wiping at his mouth with a napkin, “it’s a fascinating subject.”

  He’d found many subjects fascinating in his youth – she knew that from her mother – not least devil worship. And playing with fire, they’d got burnt.

  Warming to the theme, he leaned forward, Cash glancing at Ruby as he did so – a message in his eyes. You okay with this? She was or rather she might as well be. She could hardly tell Saul to shut up.

  “It makes sense to me, reincarnation. It’s logical. Of course we come back, in various roles and guises, there’s so much to absorb, not just about ourselves but about the world and what’s in it, all the possibilities that exist.”

  Cash couldn’t resist joining in. “But what I don’t understand is, Saul, why come back here, why not go somewhere else, another dimension? In a way, this world, it’s like God’s playground and we’re his playthings.”

  “How do you know we don’t go to another dimension?” Saul asked.

  “I…” Cash shrugged. “Well, I don’t. Although if you look at what’s been documented so far, no one’s ever recalled waking up on planet Zog.”

  “There’s a theory,” Sarah answered before Saul could, “that once a soul leaves the body it enters a state of unconditional love, void of judgement concerning actions on Earth connected with the lessons it decided to experience in that life. In basic terms, there is n
othing to be condemned or rewarded. It’s… how can I put it, a perfect state. But how can we, as an assumed intelligence, appreciate perfection if we don’t know imperfection? That’s where this existence comes in. And yes, we may volunteer for various ‘experiences’ beforehand, some good, some bad—”

  “And some downright horrendous,” Jessica added quietly.

  Sarah turned to her, “But we learn from them. Eventually. That’s the point, darling, we learn.”

  “Birth is not the beginning, death is not the end,” Saul said, “I forget who said that now, but I often think of this life as a dream, one we wake up from upon passing. We go home, to rest awhile and then we come back for more.”

  “We choose to come back for more,” Jessica corrected. “I don’t think you can say that everyone does. I think some souls choose to stay put.” She turned her attention towards Ruby, “Do you think she’s genuine, this girl?”

  At last – someone as cynical as her! Ruby was strangely grateful. “Ness thinks she is, in fact Ness is driving our involvement with the case. I think it’s outside our expertise. But I’m remaining open-minded at the moment.”

  “The best way to be,” her grandmother concurred. “As I’ve taught you.”

  But the fact was she was still leaning towards not believing. Not in the concept of reincarnation – it made a logical sort of sense to her too. As Saul said there was so much to absorb, to experience, you’d need lifetimes to fit it all in. It was the girl herself she was having issues with and the suspicion that her past life could be a world she’d created, a cry for attention, given her relationship – or rather non-relationship – with her adoptive parents.

  “But we do create worlds, Ruby,” Jessica said. “You know that. Nobody sees the same thing in the same way; we all have a different perception. It doesn’t mean that Ellie’s world is not real or that she doesn’t deserve help.”

  Cash noticed their exchange.

  “It’s incredible when you do that!” he said to Jessica.