Love at Second Sight

by Cathy Hopkins

  Fiona nodded. ‘Nothing can happen without you wanting it to happen. You’ll be in control all the time just like our other sessions.’

  I’ll probably fall asleep as always, I thought as I settled down.

  ‘I’d like to record the session if that’s OK with you,’ said Fiona. ‘Partly for research purposes and partly because, depending on what comes up, clients find it useful to listen to what has gone on when they are in trance.’

  ‘Fine by me,’ I said.

  Fiona found the recording equipment then sat on a chair beside me and told me to close my eyes. ‘Let’s start by focusing on your recurring dream and not try to force the regression but we’ll see where the session takes us. Is that OK?’

  I nodded and she began to talk me through the usual countdown. I found it soothing to listen to her soft voice as she asked me to concentrate on my breathing and, after a few minutes, I began to feel myself relaxing. I trusted her not only because of her manner but also because Mum had thoroughly looked into her training before she let me see her. ‘I don’t want you seeing a whack job,’ Mum’d said when she’d first suggested the sessions. ‘Or one of these people who do a weekend course then set themselves up as practitioners and start playing with people’s minds without the proper training or experience.’

  ‘Good, very good,’ Fiona said. ‘Keep focusing on your breath, Jo, six, starting to feel very peaceful, five, your body growing heavy, four, your breathing is slow and easy and free, three, you’re safe and warm, two, relaxed, floating . . .’

  I was vaguely aware of Fiona’s voice droning on in the background. I felt as if I was falling asleep and she instructed me to imagine that I was in a lift, going down, down, down. ‘The lift door opens, you see steps, going down. You start to go down them, down, down . . . completely at ease. Now I want you to go back to a time when the dream first started, but only if it feels right. If it feels safe to do so. It might be this life, might be a past one. Tell me, Jo, what do you see?’

  I shook my head. I couldn’t see anything. It was misty. Was I supposed to visualise something apart from steps? My mind felt foggy.

  ‘Where are you, Jo?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied. I’m here on your couch in the clinic in Highgate, said my mind but I didn’t feel like I had the energy to say that. My body felt heavy, so relaxed. I followed Fiona’s voice as she told me to go down more steps, ‘. . . down, down, down . . . Feeling safe. Feeling relaxed.’

  ‘Where are you, Jo?’ Fiona asked again sometime later. ‘What do you see?’

  The mist began to clear inside my head. I had the sense of being in a crowd.

  ‘A street,’ I said.

  Who’s looking at the street? Is it you?’

  ‘Don’t know.’

  ‘Does this person have a name?’

  Somewhere in my brain, I felt uncomfortable and I felt myself stir out of the pleasant reverie I’d been in. ‘I’m sorry, Fiona, but I feel like I want to say Henrietta because I’ve been told about her. Like I want to relax, but might be trying to make something happen by thinking of her.’

  ‘Lie back. Keep focusing on your breath, Jo. Relax. Let it all go. Don’t force anything. You don’t have to do a thing or make anything happen. If it’s right that you go back to a certain time, it’s going to happen, it will. Trust your unconscious mind, it is your friend. Let go, relax.’

  As I continued to listen to her voice, I let myself drift off again, relieved that I didn’t have to think about past lives or Henrietta or what Effy or Tash thought of me. I felt so tired.

  ‘Keep breathing, Jo. Let yourself go wherever feels right. Breathe in and out. Relaxed. Feeling calm. Moving down. . .’

  I was vaguely aware that Fiona was talking about another lift going down to other levels. Blimey, I must be way underground by now, I thought as I followed her instructions and fell back into the peaceful doze.

  ‘. . . warm and comfortable. Where are you now, Jo?’

  In my head, I felt as if I was watching a film. My life streaming backwards. Images I knew so well. Doing a DIY makeover with Effy. Laughing our heads off because we both looked like ghouls. A bicycle in the hall. My bicycle. Our dog, Rex, out on the lawn when I was in a paddling pool. Earlier. Dad getting into a car, waving him off to work with Mum. Further back. Mum in the kitchen cooking Sunday lunch. I could smell the roast chicken and onions for the gravy. Further back. I felt so small, so young. Mum and Dad’s faces looking down at me while I’m lying in a cot. Then a mist but it feels nice, like floating on clouds. The clouds clear. I’m looking down and see a young, dark-haired woman lying on a bed in a small room. Bent over her is a man with dark hair, though I can’t see his face. I can’t tell his age but he’s not old. I feel a jolt and suddenly I sense that I am the woman and the man is holding my hand. I still can’t see his face because he is turned away.

  ‘Where are you, Jo?’ Fiona asked again.

  ‘Room.’

  ‘Who’s looking at the room?’

  ‘Not sure. Me, but not me. I have my eyes closed but I can see.’

  ‘Are you all right there, Jo?’

  I nod but I sense that the man is distressed. He squeezes my hand and says, ‘I will find you. I will find you.’

  I don’t feel upset. I have the sensation of moving, being pulled up and out of the young woman’s body, and again, I am looking down on her from above. She looks serene, the man still holding her hand, bent over her. I feel as if I am moving through a dark tunnel but it isn’t frightening. It feels good. I begin to move faster through circles of light. I feel so at home in this light and continue through the most fantastic firework display of gold and white. It is so beautiful and I feel myself melting into it as if becoming one with it.

  ‘Jo, JO. Where are you? Focus on your breathing. You’re coming back now. Safe, warm, relaxed. Feel the couch beneath you. Become aware of the distant traffic sounds outside the clinic. Safe, warm, relaxed. When I count down from five, you will awaken, five . . . four. . .’

  I didn’t want to awaken. I wanted to stay where I was. It felt so peaceful there. But I could feel my body starting to stir. It felt heavy after being in the light.

  ‘Three ... two ... one and back in the room.’

  I opened my eyes.

  ‘How do you feel, Jo?’ Fiona asked.

  I took a deep breath. I felt like I’d had the most fantastic deep sleep and was totally refreshed and recharged. ‘Absolutely blooming wonderful!’ I said and grinned. ‘How long was I under? It felt like about ten minutes.’

  Fiona checked her watch. ‘About an hour.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mum was straight in with the interrogation about my session as soon as we got into the car. She assumed that my reason for wanting to try regression was to help with my insomnia so I didn’t tell her much apart from the fact that I felt great. She was always trying to get me to open up to her but I never did, not any more, not since Dad died.

  I certainly wasn’t ready to talk about the Henrietta story with her. With Effy and Tash, even though they were into it, I could still treat it like a bit of fun, but if I talked to Mum, somehow it would feel more solid, with more of a possibility of being real. Plus I needed home to be a space that was Henrietta free.

  ‘I just felt totally relaxed, Mum,’ I told her. ‘Yes, images were floating about in my head from my childhood, like photographs I’d forgotten about, but mainly it just felt floaty, nice.’

  ‘Did it give some insight as to why you keep having your recurring dream?’ she asked.

  I shook my head. ‘Not really’

  ‘So what happened? Did you go back to another country? A time in history? I’ve always been drawn to Egypt, to the music and the dance. Didn’t you discover you were Cleopatra or someone like that?’ asked Mum as she pulled out of the car park.

  ‘No, Mum.’ That much was true.

  I might not have been up for telling Mum the full story, but I did tell the girls. I filled them in on
the session on the bus to school the next morning.

  ‘Who do you think the people were that you saw?’ asked Tash.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘All I do know is that last night I had the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years.’

  ‘I think they were Howard and Henrietta,’ said Effy.

  ‘You would,’ I said. ‘But what I saw could so easily be an image from a film I saw once or even an image I conjured up myself because we’ve been talking and thinking about past lives for the last few weeks. Maybe I fell so deeply asleep that I was dreaming. In fact, I think that’s exactly what happened.’

  Effy nodded. ‘Maybe, but what came after that, going through a tunnel and into light, that sounds exactly how people describe near-death experiences.’

  ‘Near death? I think that’s a bit dramatic, Effy. I was fine. I was lying on a couch in Highgate totally alive. I often see light in my head when I’m going off to sleep, just not that intense before.’

  ‘I’ll lend you one of my dad’s books,’ said Effy. ‘It’s called Life After Life.’ She grinned. ‘You’ll like it, it’s a scientific study of people who have experienced clinical death.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ asked Tash.

  ‘That technically they died on the operating table or in an accident or something, their heart stopped but they were revived to tell the tale.’

  ‘I was hypnotised, not having a clinical death on an operating table or having an accident. I was safe. I was fine.1

  ‘Yes but what you experienced sounds the same. I’m not saying you were having a death experience but maybe you were reliving Henrietta’s.’

  ‘Wow, you have such a vivid imagination, Effy.’

  ‘Just read the book, will you, Jo? What’s so amazing about it is that despite people’s religious beliefs or faith, the experiences that they recount are similar. All described the light you talked about and also the feeling of well-being and peace.’

  ‘OK, fine,’ I said. ‘I’ll read it if only to keep you happy’ Remember, remember Owen’s wise words, the path of least resistance works best with Effy, I told myself.

  ‘I love what your hypnotherapist said about souls being born into the same families and circles of friends time after time,’ said Effy.

  ‘Unless you have a family you hate,’ I said. ‘Then you’d want to get well away from them.’

  ‘I guess,’ said Tash. ‘But maybe that’s why you come back with them, to work stuff out, the good and the bad.’

  I nodded. ‘That’s what Fiona said. Unfinished business.’

  ‘I like the idea that we might have known each other before, Jo,’ said Effy. ‘I had the same feeling that you did when I met you, like, oh there you are. You seemed so familiar.’

  I smiled at her, we obviously both felt the same way.

  ‘Hey, what about me?’ asked Tash.

  Effy regarded her. ‘First time on the planet, mate. Jo and I are old souls.’

  Tash moved forward to pinch her arm but Effy pulled away. ‘Just joking, Tash. You were probably Guinevere or some romantic heroine.’

  ‘Nah, you were a cleaner, I reckon,’ I said. ‘Or a pig farmer’s wife.’

  Tash stuck her tongue out. ‘Oink to you,’ she said.

  ‘Any word from Finn?’ Effy asked.

  I shook my head. ‘He said “Later” when I left him on Sunday, but “later” in boy speak can mean anything from next week to next month.’

  Effy and Tash both nodded in agreement.

  Our bus arrived at our stop and we got off and headed for the school gates. The effects of the session last night were still with me and I felt well chilled and in such a good mood that even Effy threatening to thrust her near-death book on me couldn’t faze me.

  After school, I went up to Highgate village with Effy and whilst she dashed home to get her dad’s book, I waited for her at her mum’s estate agents.

  I like Effy’s mum and get on with her. Sometimes I wonder if Effy and I were swapped at birth because personality-wise Effy’s so much more like my mum and I’m more like hers. Looks-wise there’s no confusion though. I’m just like Mum physically, dark with brown eyes, and Effy takes after her mother. Mrs Davis is small and blonde but her dress sense is more classic than Effy’s Topshop latest style.

  ‘How’s the hunt for Henrietta going?’ she asked me. I could tell by the way she arched her right eyebrow that she thought it was all nonsense.

  ‘You know Effy,’ I replied.

  Her mum sighed. ‘I do. She does talk some nonsense sometimes. I don’t know where she gets it from. Not from me, I can tell you. I mean it’s a sweet story, the governess and her lost soulmate, but anyone with half a brain would know that the clairvoyant made it up.’

  ‘That’s what I said.’

  ‘At least Effy has one sensible friend. It sounds like Tash is as taken by the idea as Effy is.’

  ‘Owen advised me to go along with it and that it’ll bUm out like so many other phases.’

  Mrs Davies nodded. ‘Sound advice. So he’s been in touch with you then?’

  I nodded. ‘Texts, emails, but we talked about it when he was last back from uni.’

  ‘He keeps a photo of you in his wallet, you know,’ she confided. Effy’s mum was another one who wanted to see me back with Owen.

  I felt myself squirming. I felt bad that I’d broken up with Owen. ‘That’s nice. It’s just, I... we ... we both felt that with him being at uni that we should ... you know, no ties. He must be meeting loads of new girls there. I didn’t want to hold him back.’

  ‘He hasn’t met anyone special, I don’t think,’ said Mrs Davies and she gave me a meaningful look.

  Luckily our chat was interrupted by prospective house-hunters. I sighed with relief as the door opened and a couple came in. I never know what to say when Mrs Davis brings Owen up. I can’t tell her the truth, like, oh yeah, I like Owen, your son, but he doesn’t make my toes curl. Not really what any mother wants to hear!

  Effy’s mum got up to greet them. ‘Hello, can I help you?’

  As Mrs Davis attended to the clients, I glanced out of the window. I spotted Ben outside with his dog. He glanced at his watch then looked down the street as if looking for someone. He turned and looked in the window. For once, he wasn’t wearing his shades. Our eyes met and for a moment, there was a jolt of recognition. He stared. I stared. No smile.

  Oh this is ridiculous, I thought. I’m going to go and talk to him. Break the ice properly. We have to speak sometime if we’re going to be working on the clairvoyant article together.

  I got up and walked out onto the street to join him. ‘Hey,’ I said. ‘I don’t think we’ve actually met properly. I’m Jo Harris–’

  ‘I know who you are,’he said.

  Boy, he really is unfriendly, I thought. ‘OK. And you’re Ben Fraser and don’t say you know who you are as well because that would be obvious.’

  A glimmer of a smile crossed his face. Without his shades, he was actually quite good-looking. Amber brown eyes, even features and a full wide mouth – if he smiled once in a while, he’d be very attractive – and he had a nice voice, soft but deep. His dog nuzzled my hand so I bent over and gave him a stroke.

  ‘What’s his name?’ I asked.

  ‘Max,’ Ben replied.

  ‘So how do you know me?’ I asked.

  He looked straight into my eyes. ‘You don’t remember?’

  His gaze was so intense, like he was really looking into me. It made me feel strange. Exposed in some way. I looked away, leant on one hip and attempted to look unflustered. ‘Um . . . Yeah. Course I remember. I saw you playing on the Heath, at the fair and then again at Camden Lock. You’re in Minted with Finn, yeah?’

  ‘Finn. Yeah. No, not then.’

  ‘Oh. The Chillaxin meetings. My friend Effy said you’d been at them.’ I was beginning to feel awkward, bad for not having noticed him.

  ‘Yeah I’ve seen you at those too. But we met before that.’


  ‘When?’

  ‘At junior school. I remember you.’ He stared at me intently again.

  I felt myself blush and had to look away. I didn’t remember him from school. ‘Oh. Sorry. Long time ago I guess.’

  He shrugged his shoulder and let out a sigh. ‘I guess. Whatever. Ages ago.’

  ‘So as we’re going to be working on an article together – the one about clairvoyants – I thought maybe we should talk about it. What angle you’re taking and that.’

  What angle are you taking?’ he asked.

  ‘Oh. To tell you the truth, I’ve only made some rough notes so far. I’m not sure what I’m going to write yet. We’ve seen a few. One seemed genuine, others seemed sincere but no more in touch with the spirit world than me or . . . your dog, Max.’

  ‘Are you into all that stuff?’

  ‘Not really. It’s more Effy’s thing.’

  He nodded.

  ‘What do you think about it all?’ I asked.

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Load of tosh. Fodder for idiots.’

  I laughed. ‘Don’t hold back. Tell me how you really feel’

  That glimmer of a smile again. He’d be cute if he lightened up.

  ‘That’s how I feel,’ he said. What’s your opinion?’

  ‘Same as yours. Well, mainly. For gullible people–’

  ‘They tell people what they want to hear. End of.’

  ‘Yes. At least, maybe. I don’t know any more.’

  ‘Why? Have you’ve been told something that’s come true?’

  ‘Not exactly. I. . .’ I didn’t want to tell him about Lily and her pointing to my dad’s ring nor did I want to tell him about the Henrietta story. That was private stuff plus I was getting the message fast that Ben was as cynical as me, or at least, as I used to be. Not that I’d changed my mind that much, but I was definitely wavering around the edges.

  ‘Give me your number,’ said Ben. ‘When you’ve thought about the article more and what you really think maybe we can talk.’

  I scribbled my number on a piece of paper and gave it to him. He put it in his pocket. He began to walk away then turned back. ‘Hey, Jo.’