Soul Protector

by Amanda Leigh Cowley

  Without looking my way again, he hopped off the stage and climbed the stairs, taking two at a time.

  “Oh, Dan, wait a minute,” Elaine called after him. “Are you coming out for drinks with us later, for Naomi-from-Accounts’ birthday?”

  Dan ran his fingers through his hair. “Um, yeah, I guess so. As long as I don’t get called on a shout…”

  “Oh good, Naomi will be pleased.”

  I heard the door close behind him.

  Elaine turned to me and winked. “Because Naomi’s got the hots for him...”

  I attempted, and failed, to do a light-hearted smile.

  ~

  After a dodgy start, the training sessions improved. My fellow recruits turned out to be a good bunch, especially Marcus who was the class clown. Elaine, the trainer, was a bit over-enthusiastic. She was one of those women whose shirt was always buttoned to the top, and she had an ever-present clipboard firmly pressed to her bosom. But her heart was in the right place.

  She told us that when we became official PSPs we would rely fifty percent on our training, and the rest would come from personal intuition.

  We spent the majority of the course learning about the psychology of people and how to heal them. It was fascinating.

  We even had a session with Mr Matthews, the robot guy. He spoke about the physics of switching, and although I was desperate to give him my full attention, my mind kept wandering as I struggled to stifle the odd yawn.

  It got a bit more interesting when told us how many times you could switch. “It is only possible to switch with one person at a time. So in order to leave a host body, it is only ever possible to switch back into your primary body. There is one exception to this, the Switch Enforcement Chamber.”

  I sat up straight in my seat, imagining the chair with all the straps just up the corridor, waiting for its next victim.

  Elaine spent one session highlighting areas she thought we should already be familiar with. She paced up and down the stage while she spoke. “While your thoughts are prominent, the vulnerable person will only remember your actions. They will hardly be aware of what you’re thinking or remember any conversations you have.”

  I raised my hand and Elaine stopped pacing and nodded towards me.

  “Um, Elaine, how can they not be aware of a conversation?”

  “It’s called subconscious paralysis. If the Soul Protector’s mind is dominant while a conversation takes place, the Vulnerable Person will only be aware they have seen the person you were speaking to. It’s a bit like a boring conversation going on next to you that you pay no attention to. They won’t remember any details of the conversation. If you want the VP to become involved in the conversation, you have to let your mind become passive.”

  This time I spoke without raising my hand. “So how can we influence them, if they’re not aware of our thoughts?”

  Elaine began pacing again. “The SP has to work hard to push through positive thoughts. And the way to be effective in another’s mind is to initially become passive in your own thoughts, so that the VP’s mind is dominant. Once the VP is focussed on their problem, at that point it is possible to force through your own thoughts and manipulate them.”

  Elaine told us that towards the end of our training course we would be paired up with a switch-buddy so we could practice reading each other’s thoughts. Then she delivered some information that made me feel less confident about completing the course.

  “The training will culminate in a final test. You will be handed a confidential envelope with a particular train of thought inside. You will take it in turns to push your thought pattern through to your partner. If you are successful, you will qualify as Professional Soul Protector. If you fail, well, that’s it I’m afraid.”

  “What about if you want to become a monitor?” asked Jim, the quietest member of the group.

  “Yes, once you qualify as a PSP you can take an aptitude test to see if you qualify to join our elite group of monitors.”

  “Hunting down bad boys… I fancy some of that,” said Marcus.

  “I’m not looking forward to taking that final test,” said Jim, while we were on lunch break one day.

  “I’ve heard its fun. Just think of it like a game of Chinese whispers,” said Marcus.

  “Yeah, I guess,” I said. “Don’t you all feel a bit intimidated though, you know, in case our switch-buddy finds out all our intimate thoughts?”

  Marcus raised his eyebrows. “Why, have you got something to hide, Gracie?”

  “No, not really… well, we all have some skeletons in the cupboard, don’t we?”

  Marcus beamed. “I’ll get mine out now then… I fancy Elaine.”

  “What?” said Heather, the lady with floaty tendrils. She was waving her scotch egg in the air, “you and Elaine?”

  “Nah, I’m gay. But, just saying, if someone was able to lure me to the dark side, it would have to be a dominant woman like Elaine.”

  I giggled along with the others, making a mental note to keep my own skeleton, Dan, firmly in the cupboard.

  ~~~

  CHAPTER 20

  .

  Helping Emily

  .

  I wandered along Tesco’s aisles aimlessly picking up food and putting it down again. My appetite still wasn’t back to normal and I was trying to find something to tempt my taste buds. As I walked up one aisle towards the bakery I caught a whiff of fresh bread. Yes. That’s what I fancied, lovely fresh bread with proper butter. I made my way over to the shelves where they put the freshly baked stuff and viewed my options. There was a stack of fresh wholemeal loaves, and one solitary baguette. I eyed the baguette hungrily, moving towards it. Just as I was about to swoop down, another pair of hands beat me to it. Damn.

  I straightened up again and sighed. The girl who’d just grabbed it turned to look my way. She would be in no doubt I’d wanted it too.

  The first thing I noticed was her bruises, but when our eyes locked, I had a flicker of recognition. She had short blonde hair, was about my height, and radiated anxiety like she was apologising for her very existence. I definitely knew her from somewhere.

  “Sorry,” she said, swiftly raising her hand to hide the ugly marks around her left eye.

  “No problem.” Where do I know you from?

  “Here, you have this,” she said, holding the baguette in my direction.

  “Don’t be silly. You won it fair and square.”

  “Are you sure? Well, thanks...” She bowed her head and turned to walk off in the other direction.

  “Hey, wait. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  She turned back in my direction, but cast her eyes downwards. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “But I’m positive I’ve met you before.”

  She glanced at me furtively, and the way she did it triggered my memory.

  “At the pub… I met you and your boyfriend in the pub, and you spilt your drink on me. It’s Emma? No Emily, right?”

  She heaved a sigh. “Yes, that’s me I’m afraid.”

  “So, are you okay? What happened to your eye?”

  She slowly dropped her hand, revealing the full extent of damage; purple, yellow and green smudged together to form the mother of all bruises.

  “It’s nothing, I just tripped.” She spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear. “I somehow managed to collide with the door handle on the way down. I’m clumsy remember?” A weak smile formed on her lips.

  I could tell I was making her uncomfortable, so I returned her smile. “Well Emily, you really need to take more care of yourself.”

  She nodded. “It was nice to see you again, but I’ve got to go, I’m in a hurry.”

  She waved her baguette at me, and quick-marched away. I watched her small frame disappear and felt helpless. I didn’t have solid proof it was her boyfriend knocking her around, but something was affecting her, she was a nervous-wreck. As I stood there feeling sorry for her, a plan began to formulate in my mind. The more I tho
ught about it, the more sense it made. It was so obvious. Wasn’t this the opportunity I’d been waiting for? I didn’t have to just stand there and do nothing. I had a burning desire to help her and I was in a unique position to be able to do just that. But I had to act fast or I was going to lose sight of her for good.

  Adrenaline kicked in immediately. I dropped my basket and ran to the end of the aisle. When I saw her, I slowed my run to a fast walk and caught up.

  I raised my hand to her shoulder. “Emily, wait…”

  She turned round startled. Without speaking I quickly wished I was her.

  Too late, I realised Tesco had been a bad place to switch. As dizziness overwhelmed me, I flung my arm out searching for a stable base to support me and came into contact with a display of baked beans all stacked to form a pyramid. As I fell, the whole lot came crashing down with me, making a horrendous clattering noise as each tin bounced off the tiled floor. All the shoppers in the nearby vicinity stopped what they were doing and gawped in my direction.

  ‘Gracie’ who had managed to avoid being dragged down as well, bent towards me.

  “Oh my God, are you okay, Emily?” She grabbed my hand.

  “Yes, yes I’m fine,” I said, brushing myself off while trying to ignore the rubber-neckers, “it’s just my pride that’s hurt.”

  She pulled me up, her eyes never leaving my face. There was a smile playing on her lips and I knew it wasn’t my clown act that was amusing her. I stood up straight and pulled my elbows backwards, trying to loosen my shoulder muscles after the fall.

  ‘Gracie’ carried on staring at me, waiting for something. I couldn’t believe she needed a sign after what just happened. I gave her a sly wink and her smile turned to a full on beam.

  ‘Gracie’ and I turned our attention back to the baked bean chaos, picking up tins and trying to stack them in some sort of order. Luckily a couple of shop assistants who had heard the commotion came over to help us, and with amazing dexterity, they reformed the pyramid.

  “Sorry,” I said sheepishly, as one of them plucked a tin out of my hands. I wondered how many times a day they had to restack them.

  ‘Gracie’ and I began walking towards the exit. I was amazed at the chattering going on inside Emily’s head. It was hard to pick out individual thoughts; there was too much noise inside the shop to compete against. When I was switched into Lydia, I couldn’t make any sense of the chatter and thought it was tinnitus, but there was no mistaking the voices in Emily’s head.

  I tried to clear away my own thoughts and concentrate. As I did, Emily’s thoughts became more prominent, but they dipped away sharply as ‘Gracie’ began talking to me. I squinted and placed two fingers against an ear, giving her a knowing look. She nodded as she realised what I was doing, and stopped talking.

  It was like trying to tune into a radio station, when you couldn’t quite get the frequency right. Some words were clear but others were beyond comprehension. I concentrated so hard, I was starting to get a throbbing sensation around my temples, but it was worth the effort. The harder I concentrated, the clearer the chattering became. And it wasn’t just the voices that gave me an insight into her world; I could feel how she was feeling too. She was agitated. I felt her desperation to grab the few things she was buying, get out of the shop and home as soon as possible. She was racing against the clock and she was terrified of failing. Why is she so terrified of being late? An image popped into my head. Graham.

  I looked over at ‘Gracie.’ “Come on,” I said, heading to the checkout.

  “What have you got in mind?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not going anywhere near her house.” I had to figure out a plan. The worst thing I could do was to keep her away from Graham all day, only for her to rush back to him once I switched again. I didn’t want to make things worse for her.”

  “What about Mum?” said ‘Gracie.’ “She might be able to help.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  I tried to squash down my own anxiety. I felt a little overwhelmed at what I had taken on, and really hoped I was able to help Emily at least a little. One thing I was grateful for was leaving my own problems behind for a while. I was so focussed on Emily, it was the first time in ages I didn’t feel sorry for myself.

  Outside the supermarket, I tried to let Emily’s mind come to the forefront so she would walk to her car. I closed my eyes again and concentrated. I managed to pick up more chatter than interference this time. Now I knew the pitch I was listening for, it was clearer. It reminded me of looking at those magic eye pictures. The first time you tried to see, it was virtually impossible, just a mass of coloured dots and shapes. But once you knew how to focus your eyes, the picture jumped out at you and you wondered why you found it so hard before.

  We walked towards a red mini. ‘Gracie’ and I got in and, after I fumbled with the key and the gears, we managed to get to my Corsa on the other side of the car park.

  “Right, you follow me to Mum’s,” ‘Gracie’ winked, climbing out of Emily’s car and getting into mine.

  I felt confusion in Emily’s mind, but I carried on regardless.

  I knew Mum was going to be surprised to see me turn up with a stranger, but once ‘Gracie’ had a quick word with her, she would understand, and hopefully work her magic.

  ~

  Just a short while later, ‘Gracie’ and I were standing on the familiar doorstep of Mum’s semi. I knocked on the door, rather than just letting myself in. It didn’t seem right when Mum had never met Emily.

  Mum opened the door, and her face fell into a beam.

  “Hello darling,” she said, giving ‘Gracie’ a quick embrace.

  “And who’s this?” She was looking in my direction.

  ‘Gracie’ grinned at me.

  “Mum, meet Emily.”

  “Hello Miss Reynolds,” I said dutifully.

  “Hi Emily, it’s nice to meet you. Come on in out of the cold,” she said, “and please, call me Anne.”

  ‘Gracie’ and I looked at each other, and I had to bite my lip.

  “Thank you,” I said, managing to hold onto my composure.

  We walked into the living room and Mum offered us drinks.

  “Make yourself at home,” said ‘Gracie,’ “I’m just going to give Mum a hand in the kitchen.”

  As she walked off she turned back and gave me another sly wink.

  “Okay, I’ll be fine,” I said, settling back into the sofa. I knew I needed to give ‘Gracie’ time to explain to Mum that Emily was in need of some tactful counselling. I just knew if anyone could help her, it would be Mum.

  Mum and ‘Gracie’ came out of the kitchen, and I was handed my coffee – white with no sugar. After taking a sip - I like my coffee very hot - I nearly spat it out. It tasted awful. I realised Emily probably had sugar in hers. I was tasting through her taste buds after all.

  We relaxed into some gentle banter about how cold the weather was getting, and before we knew it Christmas would be here and so on. I was just wondering how Mum was going to make her move, when she directed the conversation around to boyfriends.

  “Are you seeing anyone Emily?” she asked, smiling.

  I had to force my thoughts to become submissive and let Emily’s mind take over. It wasn’t easy, if someone tells you to empty your mind, you can’t can you? I ran my fingers through my hair, noticing how different Emily’s short locks felt to mine.

  I drew in a deep breath and closed my eyes. As I did this, I captured the flavour of her mood again. I could tell she was still anxious. She didn’t answer for a while, and the silence felt awkward. Then slowly, she nodded.

  “Oh, sorry love, I’ve made you feel uncomfortable. I can change the subject,” Mum soothed.

  Again, I had to resist filling in the gaps and wait until Emily was ready to speak.

  “No, it’s okay. It’s just... things are a bit awkward, at the moment.” She spoke in a whisper, and I could see Mum and ‘Gracie’ straining to hear he
r.

  As Emily closed her eyes an image of Graham burst into her mind. His face was red and angry, his eyes were bulging and he looked full of hate. He had his hand raised, ready to strike. I found it hard to deal with. It was just like seeing my Dad all those years ago.

  I opened my eyes and looked around. I was safe. Emily was safe too, for now. God, this session with Mum had to work or I would have just made things a whole lot worse for her, sending her home late to her monster of a boyfriend.

  Mum nodded gently. I noticed she was looking at the bruise on Emily’s cheek.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

  Emily didn’t hesitate this time. Her level of anxiety had increased and she was sure of her next statement.

  “No, I can’t, I’m late. I need to get home.”

  ‘Gracie’ shot me a look. “Surely you can stay and chat a little bit longer,” she said, her brow creasing. “Go on, force yourself.”

  Mum looked up at her alarmed, but I knew what she was trying to tell me. It was time for me to take over. I thought back to my training session. How you could influence someone else’s thoughts by pushing through your own.

  I focussed on willing Emily to stay. I tried to let her see that Mum could help. I felt her resistance, but each time her negative voice tried to seep through I pushed it away. After a few moments I felt the resistance stop, and she relaxed a little.

  “Alright then. But only for a little while.”

  I could hardly believe it had been that easy.

  “My husband used to hit me,” Mum said, watching for Emily’s reaction. “I loved him, and stayed with him for eleven years, and for most of that time I was scared to death.”

  I felt Emily recoil, so I focussed hard. I needed her to be willing to listen.

  ‘So I do understand. And I can help you, but I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do,” she finished off.

  Emily’s anxiety levels were rising again, but I took some deep breaths and managed to relax her a little. I supervised her thoughts, ready to jump in if she started to become reluctant. I was surprised as, tears rolling down her cheeks, she nodded.