Love at Second Sight

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘Just that a mate’s cat had gone missing and would show up.”

  ‘Did she say anything else?’

  I shrugged. ‘I can’t remember everything. Some of it was a bit vague like about my mum working too hard.’ I decided not to elaborate on the other stuff that Lily had said, the things about my dad and Rex, my ring, and especially not the bit about me having been a governess and how I had to find my soulmate. Now that Cassie had gone missing then turned up, it was all beginning to feel a bit spooky and I needed time to think. ‘But, Effy, whatever Lily was, she was certainly no fake.’

  Effy nodded. Luckily she didn’t press me further because there was another text from Mark and Effy’s attention was elsewhere.

  Chapter Eleven

  After Effy had gone off, I headed straight home where I let myself in and headed for the kitchen. Sometimes I wished that we had a cat, just so there was somebody living to greet me on evenings like this when Mum was out with a friend and the house felt so quiet. Not that I begrudged Mum a night out, no way. I knew that she needed some fun time as much as anyone, but in the past when she was out I didn’t feel being alone as acutely because Tash and Effy were always here with a DVD or ready for a sleepover or I was over at theirs. So much had changed since Dave and Mark had come on the scene. A cat would be the perfect solution. A presence that would be there but not ask too many questions. ‘Purrfect solution,’ I said out loud.

  Mum had left me some chicken in the oven but I didn’t feel like eating much. I made myself a hot chocolate and sat at the kitchen table. I pulled out my phone in the hope that there might be more texts. Nothing. I went up to my room to my computer. No emails so I went to Facebook to see what was happening on there. Effy, Tash and I used to use it a lot last year but none of us bother with it that much any more. I went to my page. One message, one request to add a friend and a notification that Owen had poked me. I clicked on the request link to see who it was from. Ohmigod! Finn O’Brady I immediately clicked confirm. My Saturday evening suddenly got a whole lot more interesting as I accessed his page and began to read his status updates, comments left and checked out his photos. He had thousands of friends, far too many to go through and mainly girls. There were also loads of messages on his wall from girls and probably a ton more private ones I couldn’t access. Looking through his photos only confirmed what I was feeling deep inside that Finn was one hundred per cent gorgeous.

  After a short while, a notification on the right of Finn’s page attracted my attention. A mini music festival was being held the next afternoon down at Highbury Fields in Islington and Minted were one of the bands playing. Effy and Tash already had plans to go to a movie with Dave and Mark. What are my options? I asked myself. Home alone? Miss Tagalong with my mates or be a free, independent spirit and go to the music festival and see Finn? Hmm? I wonder. . .

  The following day, I woke up late to find that Mum was also still in bed. Shall I go to the music festival on my own? I asked myself as I stared outside at the bright sunshine. It seemed a shame to stay inside on such a lovely day and I felt determined to prove to myself that I could still have a good time as a singleton. I don’t need to be with mates or in a couple to get out there, I told myself. Life is what you make it.

  I spent a relaxing hour doing a DIY pampering session. First I sang my head off in a honeysuckle bubble bath. After that, I applied my Miss Dior Cherie body lotion then got dressed in my black jeans and a grey tailored silk jacket that had the vintage feel that I like. A touch of make-up (I didn’t want to look as if I’d tried too hard), then I blow-dried my hair until it shone.

  Mum was up by the time I went downstairs and looked up from the Sunday papers. ‘Wow, you look lovely,’ she said. ‘Going somewhere special?’

  ‘Music festival,’ I muttered. ‘Back in a few hours.’

  ‘Take your phone,’ she called as I let myself out the front door.

  The park was already full by the time I got to Highbury Fields, with people seated on the ground near the front, others chatting or standing and listening at the back, a few lying flat out on their backs enjoying the sunshine. I went to stand under a tree and scanned the crowds. I felt slightly wobbly being on my own and for a few moments wished that Effy or Tash was there with me. It would have been more fun to have someone to chat to. No. I am OK, I told myself. I am an independent spirit.

  I listened to a couple of bands then went to get a drink from a stall at the back of the park. As I stood in the queue, a group of older boys came and stood behind me. They stank of alcohol. One of the boys had a cigarette in his hand. ‘Got a light?’ he asked.

  ‘Don’t smoke,’ I said.

  ‘You look smoking to me, babe,’ said his darkhaired friend. The others cracked up as if he’d said the funniest thing ever.

  ‘Here on your own, are you?’ the first boy persisted.

  ‘Um . . . with some mates,’ I replied.

  He looked around. ‘I can’t see them,’ he said.

  ‘We could be your mates,’ said his friend and they stepped nearer to me as if closing in.

  I tried to step away but they moved with me and were so drunk that they were swaying on their feet. I felt myself being shoved towards an area behind the drinks van where there were tall bins spilling over with cans and uneaten bits of pizza and bread. I felt my breath shorten. Keep cool, I told myself but inside, I was starting to panic.

  Behind them, I suddenly noticed Finn and a very tall, well-built black man with a shaved head walking past. Luckily, Finn glanced in my direction and saw me. He nudged the man he was with. He clocked the situation straight away and came striding over with Finn.

  ‘Hey, Jo, there you are,’ said Finn. ‘We’ve been looking for you everywhere. Come on.’ He came and put his arm around me and led me away.

  His companion nodded at the boys. ‘All right, lads?’ he asked.

  One of them muttered something and they dispersed quickly, almost tripping over a bin as they went.

  ‘You OK?’ asked Finn.

  I nodded. ‘Yes, thanks. They were drunk, I think.’

  ‘There are always a few idiots at events like this,’ he said. He glanced around. ‘You on your own?’

  ‘No . . . actually . . . yes,’ I said.

  ‘No, yes?’ He got that amused look in his eye again.

  ‘OK. Yes. On my own.’

  ‘So come and join us. We have a camper over there,’ he said and he pointed to an area to the back of the stage.’That is if you want to.’

  ‘I want to,’ I said. I didn’t want any more encounters with drunk boys.

  ‘Cool.’ Finn indicated the black man who was walking with us. ‘And this is Roger. Looks after us at events like this.’

  ‘Hi, Roger,’ I said.

  We walked over to the camper van and as we got closer, I saw that there was a group of girls hanging about outside and a serious-looking security man standing guard at the bottom of the steps. He nodded at Finn.

  Finn nodded back and pointed at me. ‘She’s with me,’ he said. A groan of disappointment came from the girls as we swept past them and into the van. It felt brilliant! First he’s my hero coming to my rescue, I thought, and now I’m part of his entourage. It doesn’t get any better than this. At the thought of his entourage, I suddenly remembered the girl with auburn hair. Would she be around? I’d have loved to ask him who she was and what she was to him but even I’m not so dumb as to ask a boy questions like that so early on.

  There was no sign of her inside the van and after making sure I got a seat and a drink, Finn’s attention was soon on getting ready for the gig. Ben came in at one point and did a double take when he saw me sitting near Finn and chatting to him. He turned around and went straight out again.

  ‘What’s with Ben?’ I asked.

  Finn glanced at the door. ‘Nothing. He’s probably gone to walk his dog or gone to check the sound on stage or something. Why?’

  ‘Oh nothing,’ I said. It seemed a rational enough explanat
ion but I got the feeling that he’d left because he’d seen me there. He doesn’t even know you, I told myself. You’re imagining things.

  The rest of the afternoon was a blast. Finn insisted I stick with the band and sit on the side of the stage to watch their set. All the other boys in the band were a real laugh and I felt totally in with the in-crowd. The only one who was aloof was Ben who still acted as though I didn’t exist. It didn’t matter, Finn acted as though I did.

  One of the best days of my life, I thought as I sat on the bus going home. First I called the girls to tell them about my day and catch up, then I replayed the events of the afternoon over and over in my mind. Finn putting his arm around me. Saying, ‘She’s with me.’ Checking I was OK in-between songs. Saying, ‘Later,’ when we finally parted and he had to go off with the rest of the band in the van. Later. That meant something, didn’t it? Later? A promise of things to come. Past lives. Who needs to go there when my future is looking so rosy? I thought as I stared out of the bus window.

  Chapter Twelve

  On Monday evening, Mum took me for my appointment with my hypnotherapist, Fiona Peters. Mum stayed in the waiting room whilst I went in to see Fiona. She’s a nice lady, about Mum’s age, with kind hazelnut-coloured eyes and long brown hair which I’d love to cut because it makes her look like an old hippy. She looked up as I entered her room.

  ‘Hi, Jo, take a seat and I’ll be right with you.’

  As Fiona finished writing something in her desk book, I glanced around the room. A Turkish rug on the floor, shelves of books on every type of therapy, a statue of an Indian goddess and on the walls were her certificates and various posters. Hypnotherapy for weight loss, confidence issues, phobias, smoking, fear of flying. Certificates for hypnotherapy, NLP (whatever that is), cognitive behaviour therapy There was one in the corner I hadn’t noticed before. Past life regression therapy.

  ‘Hey, Fiona, you do past life regression?’

  She looked up and nodded. ‘Sometimes a trauma goes back a long long way.’

  ‘Wow. So you actually believe we have past lives?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘So how come we’ve never tried regression as part of my therapy?’

  ‘Because we’ve been focusing on what’s causing your dream. You felt that it was because of memories of your father in this life, so it hasn’t felt necessary to look further back than that. Regression isn’t for everybody. If it’s appropriate, I find that it comes up spontaneously in a session. The unconscious mind tends to throw up what is most useful to us. I never plan it because it’s not something that can be forced.’

  ‘Can it happen that you go back and get stuck there, you know, in a past life? Er . . . not that I really believe in them. But what if you were a mad person or ... or a warthog and you got stuck in that life?’

  Fiona laughed. ‘There’s no danger of that happening, Jo. In fact, a past life regression is not dissimilar to what we’ve been doing already in your sessions with me. I put you into a light trance and see where it takes us.’

  It was true. Quite often as I dozed off and listened to Fiona’s voice, I found myself remembering times from my childhood that I’d completely forgotten about.

  ‘With a past life regression,’ Fiona continued, ‘we just go back a little further. Why? What’s brought on the sudden interest?’

  ‘Oh . . . just recently someone told me that I was a governess named Henrietta in a past life. It got me thinking about whether I believe in that sort of thing.’

  ‘And who was this someone who told you this?’

  ‘A clairvoyant. My mate Effy dragged me along to see her.’

  Ah, I see. Hence the sudden interest in past lives and regression.’

  ‘That and, well, I never noticed the certificate on your wall before,’I said.

  Fiona nodded. ‘People don’t tend to notice things until they become relevant to them. That certificate has been up there ever since you’ve been coming to see me. So, Jo, tell me. How do feel about what you were told?’

  ‘I think the clairvoyant probably tells the same story to lots of people who go to see her.’

  Fiona nodded but didn’t say anything. She often did this in sessions as if waiting for me to fill the silence.

  ‘But my mates seem to believe the whole thing.’

  ‘And how do you feel about that, Jo?’

  ‘Mixed. Pressurised to go along with it, like, they think it’s so romantic, but the more rational side of me thinks it’s nonsense.’

  ‘The more rational side. Ah. So is there another side that’s not so rational?’

  ‘No. Maybe. I don’t know. I mean it can’t be true, can it?’

  ‘Can’t it? What do you think?’

  I was silent for a minute while I tried to work out what I really thought. ‘Hard one that. I’m not sure what I think any more. Er . . . I like to think I’m openminded but I also think that some people that go to clairvoyants are gullible. I believe what I see.’

  And what do you see?’

  ‘My mates off on one. They’re so into it. The clairvoyant said that Henrietta was in love with someone and they were soulmates, so in the same way that I’m back in this life, so is he and I should find him.’

  Fiona smiled. ‘Makes sense. If reincarnation is to be believed, chances are others from your past lives are back. Souls who were your mother, your father, your partners, your friends.’

  ‘Whoa. Information overload.’

  ‘If you read anything about reincarnation, it often says that souls are reborn in clusters, bound together through time, maybe because they have unfinished business. Your mother might have been your sister in a past life. Your friend might have been your mother.’

  ‘No way!’

  ‘Why not? We don’t actually know a lot about where we’ve come from or how we got here, do we? But haven’t you ever had that feeling when you’ve met someone that they’re familiar, like you’ve met them before but can’t place it?’

  I nodded. ‘I did with Effy. I feel like I’ve known her forever. First time I saw her in junior school, there was something familiar about her.’

  ‘Maybe she was your brother or sister in another life.’

  ‘Yeah right.’ Despite my trying to be more openminded, the notion that I’d known just about everyone in my life in a past life was taking it all too far. It would seem like too much of a coincidence.

  ‘As I said, Jo, we don’t know a lot, do we? And you did say your friend Effy seemed familiar when you met her.’

  ‘OK,’ I said, ‘but I doubt if she was my brother or sister, more like she would have been my mother. She’s so bossy. Always telling me what to do or wear or think.’

  Fiona laughed and indicated the couch. ‘So. Are you ready to begin our session?’

  ‘Sure.’ I got up and moved over to the couch.

  ‘How’ve you been since the last time we met, Jo?’

  ‘Better actually, apart from one night when I had the same old dream.’

  ‘OK. This time I’d like to work a little deeper with you and see if we can get back to the dream and the feeling behind it.’

  ‘Loss. I always wake with such a sense of loss.’

  ‘That’s the feeling we need to explore. What do you feel that loss is?’

  I shrugged. ‘I always feel fuddled when I wake up. The dream fades so quickly that I can’t remember much. I’m pretty sure it’s about losing Dad.’

  And is that your rational mind telling you that or another part of you?’

  ‘Oh. Don’t know. My gut, I guess, and Mum says she hears me calling for someone and it sounds like Dad.’

  ‘OK. Let’s see if we can go from pretty sure that it’s about losing your dad to certain. If we can get to the feeling behind the dream, get into that loss and confront it, you’ll be able move on. Is there anything else you can remember from the dream?’

  ‘Sometimes there’s a house.’

  ‘Is it the house you used to live in when your fa
ther was alive?’

  ‘No. It’s not a house that I know.’

  Fiona nodded. ‘Sometimes we dream in symbols. A house can represent yourself the basement your fears, the attics your dreams and hopes. A closed room may represent a part of you that is closed off. Don’t worry about it though. As you relax, it may become clearer what it means. OK. Ready?’

  I lay down, but my mind had gone into a spin. Two different people had told me about me being a governess. Should I ask if we can give the past life regression a go to see if there is actually anything to it? I wondered. Plus it would show Effy and Tash just how open-minded I can be and it would be amazing if I actually experienced anything.

  ‘Er . . . Fiona. Do you think we could try a past life regression today?’ I asked. ‘It might help answer some questions for me.’

  Fiona regarded me for a few moments. ‘We can see where this session takes us but as I said, it only happens if it’s going to be useful if the time is right. But we can see how far back your unconscious is willing to take you if you wish.’ She got up and went towards the door. ‘I want to check with your mum that she’s happy if we do this. OK?’

  ‘Sure,’ I replied. I was certain Mum wouldn’t object, in fact she’d probably want to have a go herself when she heard that Fiona did regressions. Like Effy, it was the sort of thing she’d be well into, and indeed, Fiona was back a few minutes later.

  ‘She says whatever might help,’ she said.

  ‘Can you bring me back at any point if I don’t like it?’ I asked. I felt nervous but also excited to be trying something different. Although Tash and Effy tease me about being a cynic, it’s not that. I like hard facts. Evidence. That’s why I like science. I enjoy the research of it. Proving a hypothesis. A past life regression could be an interesting experiment but it also felt like a leap into the unknown.