Together Again: Spirit Travel Novel - Book #4 (Romance & Humor - The Vicarage Bench Series)

by Mimi Barbour

“Yes I am, and don’t talk out loud. People will think you’re bonkers,” the female whispered.

  Plainly an unbeliever, Troy stood up, wobbled, and made his way around to the back of the bench to check behind the rose bushes. Then he circled to the other side, looking for the speaker so he could prove this weirdness a hoax. There wasn’t a soul in sight. He sat back down. It was either that or fall down.

  “My spirit is inside you. We’re soul-roomies for a while.” The girlish voice had a surprising huskiness that stopped it from being totally annoying.

  The answer hit him all at once. He scrutinized the top branches of nearby trees for his hidden pretender, but there weren’t any close enough for her trick to work.

  Of course! There must be a device attached to the bench. Her voice had to be coming through some kind of electronic gadget. After another careful search, however, he found nothing.

  “Listen, you, whoever you are. Cut it out. I’m tired and in no mood to play along. Show yourself from wherever you’re hiding, explain how you’ve managed this setup, and the laugh will be on me.”

  Two churchgoers, passing by on the winding path, stared at him, then hurried towards the vicarage. They glanced back before turning the final corner, and he heard their nervous giggles.

  “See! I told you not to talk out loud. We can converse with our thoughts. Try it. It’s easy.”

  By accepting her advice, he would be acknowledging the validity of her words, something he refused to do until he’d looked into every other avenue. After all, he was a reporter, a researcher—a whackjob, if this turned out to be true.

  “You’re not nuts. I promise. It’s the roses. There’s some abnormal spell stuff inside them. When you jabbed your finger the magic must have gone into your bloodstream and mine at the same time.”

  Okay, he’d try it her way and prove her wrong.

  “You weren’t here pricking your finger. There’s only me and the darn cat I tried to save—the ungrateful little pest took off.”

  Good God! She was right. He could converse with her even more comfortably from the inside. The acid in his stomach spilled over, and he felt the burning sensations spread. He’d better pay attention to this ghostly presence, because she seemed to know what had happened, and he hadn’t a clue.

  “My uncle propagated roses from this same bush, planted it in his personal garden, and I pricked my finger there, on his plant. It’s the fact that we did it at the same time of day, you see, that’s important. Or at least I think that’s how the magic works.”

  On the one hand, accepting he heard her words from inside his head rather than through his ears scared the hell out of him. But on the other hand, he didn’t want to be arrested and hauled off for talking out loud without anyone else in sight. They’d think him either high or nuts, and neither option appealed.

  “So how do we undo the spell?”

  “We can’t, or at least not for some time. You’re a Yank, right? I can tell by your accent.”

  “I don’t have an accent, you do, and I’m an American, from Chicago.”

  “Shi-caw-gow! Right! No accent. How come you’re here in Bury? Are you on vacation?”

  “No, I’m a reporter following a story, and quit taking this situation so damn lightly. What the hell—ah—heck is going on? How did you come to be inside me or wherever the hel—heck you are?”

  “You do swear a lot. I don’t mind. I’m almost seventeen. It’s not as if I haven’t heard it before.”

  “You’re how old?” He yelled—out loud. Real loud!

  “Shhhh! See, those old guys are looking this way funny-like. If you act too batty, they’ll call the coppers, and then we’ll be in a fine fix, won’t we?”

  “Look, I want you to leave me alone now. I’m too tired to figure out what’s going on here, so do me a favour and be a good kid. Come out from wherever you’re hiding, and I’ll buy you an ice cream or something.”

  “I’m sorry to be a bother, but I’m here for some time. As far as I can tell, the spell takes a while to wear off. It’s the gospel truth! You can hear me from inside. Admit it. We’re talking, right? I know it and you know it.”

  “Quit telling me what I know. If you are inside me, or whatever ‘wooo-wooo’ you’re on about, then where’s the rest of you—your body? If you’re so smart, tell me that.” He jabbed the air with a forefinger to make his point, a natural hand waver and face maker when he talked. Or maybe it only happened when something displeased him; fortunately, no one was watching him at the moment.

  “A bit touchy, you foreigners. I was in my uncle’s garden, I pricked my finger on a rose thorn, and—crikey, here I am inside of you. My body is probably in a coma, lying across his bench, waiting for poor Uncle Robert and the tea tray he went to organize.”

  Troy’s head sank down again into his waiting hands. He massaged his fingers through thick waves and rubbed, as if he could extinguish the events of the last few minutes. This phenomenon was just too much for a guy who hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before.

  He emptied his mind, completely shutting down, but a second or two before everything went silent, he heard her giggling childishly and chanting, “yesss… yesss….”

  Chapter Three

  “Here we go, Dani, my love. A nice cuppa for me, and a mug of coffee brewed for you, since you refuse to recognize the proper traditional drink. And, you’ll be happy to note, Mrs. Dorn baked the same biscuits you devoured the last time you were here to vis…”

  Dr. Andrews came to a dead stop by the wooden table. The tray clanked down, rattling the cups and saucers, breaking some of the china. Liquid spilled, flowing in all directions until it reached the table edge where it dripped to the ground in a modest waterfall.

  The biscuits tumbled and bounced eventually rolling over and landing in all directions on the cobblestone walkway—food for the noisy but patient warblers to feast on later.

  “Bless my soul, not again!” Dr. Andrews ran to the girl’s limp body, folded like an envelope, her arms crossed over her stomach, legs crossed at the ankles, and her top half bent over so that her forehead came close to touching her knees. All that kept her from falling to the ground was the way her body leaned against the high iron side of the bench.

  The doctor in Robert Andrews merged with the loving uncle as he took her into his arms, angling her so he could check her pulse. It beat normally. He lifted her eyelids and knew she wasn’t there. Blood on the thorn of the red rose near her feet indicated what had happened.

  This wasn’t his first experience with spirit travelling. The same kind of disturbing and frightening incident had occurred before. That episode had ended with a positive outcome, but this time it affected the one person in the world he most loved. He hugged her close, trying to still the tremors attacking his body, and it was then his gaze fell on his notes all piled on the table in disarray, totally unlike the way he’d left them.

  A rational explanation for the weird events he’d recorded on those pages hadn’t yet come to him, no matter how much research he’d done or how he’d racked his brain, questioning, always questioning.

  His enquiries hadn’t uncovered anything, nor had the many volumes of paranormal information he’d read. As far as he knew, no other place had ever experienced such a miracle. It seemed that Bury possessed the only magic rosebush—make that two bushes—in the world.

  Again rechecking Dani’s vital signs, he admitted what his brain wanted to refute. She was spirit travelling. Where—in whom—and when—he did not know. What he did know was that if anything happened to her, he’d never forgive himself. Keeping that damn rose bush where she could get at it, leaving all his notes lying around where she’d be able to read them, those errors made this his fault.

  “Idiot! Blasted fool idiot!”

  She looked so pale and innocent in his arms that he felt weak from the fear of what could happen to her. The resemblance to her mother, his older sister, emerged more strongly when his precious niece lay unmoving.


  His sister! Marion… Oh, my God! She would go barmy and blame him for everything. How could he rationalize the rosebush’s magic to his bossy, paranoid sibling? And trying to use it, as a reason for her daughter to be in this situation would, quite frankly, never work. In fact, nothing about the truth would pass muster with her. He needed to come up with a credible excuse—and fast—for keeping Dani here, in hiding, with him. Apprehension loomed like “the knowing about a dentist’s needle before the filling.”

  Dani’s unruly soft curls tickled his chin, while a whiff of her favourite flowery scent assailed his nostrils. The brilliant colour of her hair, eyebrows, and long reddish lashes highlighted her unblemished white skin.

  She was a glimmer of sunshine in his otherwise bland life and workaholic schedule. He knew he’d never have children of his own; the time for him had long passed. But if he had been so blessed, he’d have wanted a child exactly like this smart, inquisitive, spunky girl.

  She appeared very young in her present condition, tiny and weak, an impression he knew to be untrue. Dani had developed quickly, retaining her slenderness through athletics, and even at her tender age, she carried herself with attitude.

  A knock sounded a moment before Dr. Andrews’ housekeeper, Mrs. Dorn, peeked around the large fern near the garden’s entrance. “I don’t wish to intrude but—Good grief, Dr. Andrews, what’s happened ‘ere?” She lumbered toward him, her massive body swaying from side to side in a comic kind of wiggle.

  “I’m afraid that Dani has slipped into a coma. Nothing to be alarmed about, Mrs. Dorn. I’ve seen these situations before, and they have a tendency to resolve themselves. We’ll be looking after her for the next little while until the effects fade away, but I suggest we tell her mother a bit of a fabrication. I don’t think she’d take it too well if we were to admit the truth.”

  “What is the truth, Doctor?” Inquisitive to a fault, his housekeeper would not be put off easily.

  “I believe Dani has had an allergic reaction to the—the rose she pricked her finger on. I’ve seen it happen before. The effects will wear off in time, but she must be treated specially. By keeping her here, we can give her better care than the overworked staff at the hospital—where, I have no doubt, my sister would demand she be taken.”

  “Cor, you’re right there. What’ll you be telling her so she’ll leave the child with us?” Mrs. Dorn moved with surprising speed to sit next to the sleeping girl in order to peer more closely.

  “There has been a strain of highly infectious flu going around lately. Using that as the explanation for her illness, I can hint that Dani became violently ill while here and mustn’t leave and—and spread the germs. You know how Marion is about infections and disease. I think I’ll just tell her that the best medicine for the child is for us to keep her here, in a light sleep to, ah, to stop her from scratching and marring her skin.”

  “Ohhh, that’s a good one.”

  “You think so?”

  “Yes sir, it’s brilliant, and it’ll work with your sister.”

  “Good. That’s got it, then. I’ll fib and caution her not to visit. I can tell her that since I’ve been inoculated, because of working at the hospital, I’m the perfect person to stay with Dani. But for anyone else it would be too dangerous.”

  A bit thick, Mrs. Dorn’s face scrunched up, her head quickly swivelled back and forth, and she said, “‘Ere now! This flu the child has is hazardous? I haven’t had a shot…” One glance at the doctor’s questioning look and raised eyebrows, and the lights came on. “Right-o! I knows how to keep me mouth shut, don’t you fret none. We’ll take care of our little miss between us, and mum’s the word.”

  So saying, she leaned over the cradled girl who’d always treated her well. Her fleshy fingers gently brushed the ringlets away from Dani’s brow.

  “A right proper darling she is, Dr. Andrews, always a friendly word and a smile to cheer up me day.”

  Dr. Andrews looked at the kindly face and, for the first time ever, didn’t zero in on the large wart protruding near the end of her nose, but gazed instead into her damp eyes. He smiled reassuringly.

  “It’ll be simply a matter of time, my dear Mrs. Dorn. We’ll have to be patient. I loathe having to lie to my sister, but we wouldn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. Come now. You take her feet, and I’ll carry her upper half. We’ll have her comfy and tucked up in no time. I’ll hire one of the nurses from the hospital to stop in each day to do for her, and we’ll take care of her the rest of the time between us.”

  “God love ya, sir, we’ll be just fine.”

  Later, as Dr. Andrews sat near Dani’s bed rereading the notes he’d left in the garden, he came to realize that the mixed-up pages were his only hope. He prayed that she’d read them in their entirety and had understood the most important detail—how to get back home.

  From now on, until she returned to herself, he would have her body on the bench at twelve noon every Saturday to prick her finger, and hope she was doing the exact same thing wherever she might be. If things worked in the similar way as they did with Lucy McGillicuddy’s case, where both people had to prick their fingers at the exact same time, then it should also succeed with Dani.

  The crunching noise, of papers being annihilated, had him unclenching his hands. Worry ate away his ability to concentrate and his mind jumped from subject to subject. It finally came to rest on how upset his niece had seemed earlier.

  Up till this moment, he’d forgotten about the troubled note in Dani’s young voice and the pleading in her eyes. Now the memory plagued him, and he realized she’d never gotten around to confessing her problem. What could have caused her so much distress?

  Such a muddle! The anxiety he felt had little to do with him knowing how to look after her, and a lot to do with worrying about whether she might be able to look after herself.

  What struck him as most significant was that one of his ongoing questions had been answered, but only in part. Whether or not his private rose bush—the one he himself had propagated from the mother bush near the vicarage—contained the identical formula of the supernatural. He’d wondered and even made some experiments with John Norman’s assistance from time to time, but until today the flowering bush had graced his garden as a beautiful decoration with no sign at all of anything unusual. Obviously, it did harbour a similar magic, but he had no idea if that magic would work in the same way as the original rose bush.

  His hands went up to link behind his head, knuckles clenched and pure white. The sigh that escaped lasted a long time and echoed back to him, forcing tremors of apprehension.

  Chapter Four

  “Yes, Yes, Yesss!”

  While her host shut himself off, Dani celebrated. The magic had worked. She’d abandoned her troubles, her home, and even her body to lurk inside another’s. A break from the predicament she faced couldn’t have come at a better time. The fact that she’d ended up in a man’s body didn’t fluster her; it only added to the excitement.

  She knew from looking at his long-fingered hands—through his own eyes, mind you—that she resided in a younger man somewhat fastidious about nail care.

  His jean-clad legs seemed to be muscular, and she did like the stylish shoes he wore. But she couldn’t wait to see what he looked like. Faces interested her—they represented possible characters in future stories. She wrote constantly and liked to make up adventurous backgrounds for those people who attracted her most.

  Apparently, he could close himself off from her by blanking his thoughts, exactly what he was practising at the moment. Interesting! Could she do the same with him? She’d have to try it.

  It felt strange to be a thought process without any power over the muscles of the body. Wait a second. She should test it before taking anything for granted. She lifted his hand to his face and stuck his finger in his nose. He pulled it out and waved it around as if clearing a swarm of mosquitoes.

  “Stop that! Look, let’s get one thing straight right from the start—”


  “You’re attracting attention again, talking out loud.” Either her words or her sweet tone angered him, because she sensed a quick rise in his inner temperature. Actually, he became quite hot inside. At least he took the hint and clamped his lips shut.

  “Quit interrupting me, and quit telling me what to do, and for the love of God give me a break and get the hell—heck—out! I need you here like I need a hole in my head. I can’t believe my rotten bad luck—”

  “You’re rambling and using profanity. But I don’t mind—the swearing, that is. Go ahead if you want to.”

  “Hey! Even if you’re only sixteen, you’re a female, aren’t you? And I’m not a callow kid. I do not swear in front of females.”

  “Right! You only cuss away inside your mind.”

  “Right!”

  He groaned so loudly that the young biker passing by became distracted and had to swerve at the last minute to miss the bushes.

  “How about if I promise to censor your language myself when you mess up. Would you relax then?”

  “No! I can stop the habit altogether. It only takes a bit of will power.”

  She waited, sensing he had more he wanted to say.

  “One question, little girl. Do spirits smile?”

  “ Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve had the urge to say ‘wipe that smirk off your face’ ever since this conversation began.”

  He found out to his dismay that spirits also laughed.

  As Dani felt him loosen up and his anger recede, she decided enough time had passed for him to get over his snit.

  “I suppose we should introduce ourselves, since we’ll be living together for a while. My name is Dani.”

  “Isn’t that a boy’s name?”

  “It’s a nickname I made from my real name, Daniell, which I dislike terribly. Names with consonants on the end are not at all attractive. I love names that end in ‘ie’ or ‘y.’ Girls called Julie and Christy are always so much cuter than girls with names like Marion or Elizabeth, don’t you think?”