Secrets & Souls - prequel to The Soul Guide

It wasn’t long after their conversation that Genevieve went home with promises to return the next afternoon for the Gathering. She didn’t live far away and her brother was coming home that evening so she wanted to be there when he arrived. Mellissa had sworn Genevieve to secrecy, and she had agreed not to tell anyone about her son, promising instead to help her locate him. Mellissa felt her stomach tie in knots. Had she done the right thing asking for Genevieve’s help? She wouldn’t try to get her son back, she couldn’t do that now no matter how much she wanted it. She just needed to know he was OK. Genevieve had agreed to keep an eye on him for her and after the Gathering tomorrow was going to travel to North London to the address Mellissa had handed him over at. He may not be there now, but it was the only place she knew where to start. What if he wasn’t there? She wasn’t sure she could cope with the pain of not knowing where he was, if he was safe, happy. Perhaps it was a wound best left unpicked.

She pushed her anxiety away, resolving to concentrate on helping Carlo prepare for the meal tomorrow. She headed to the kitchen. Carlo had already closed the café and was preparing enough Lasagne to feed the five-thousand.

“You sure you’ve made enough?” Mellissa asked, laughing a little at the mounds of ingredients all over the kitchen work surface.

“There is never too much. You saw what they put away last time. They are hungry these friends of ours.”

That was certainly true, she remembered how much fun they had. The food had been delicious and the company wonderful. She’d never felt so welcomed before or accepted. It had been quite an eye opener.

Carlo pointed to an array of meats laid out on the kitchen island. “I need you to prepare the antipasto,” he said.

“Sure, no bother.” Mellissa washed her hands at the sink and began loading a platter with cured meats, olives, mushrooms, artichokes and other delicious items. Before she had arrived a month ago she had never tasted Italian food, now she was quite the connoisseur. Carlo was right, the other Pure certainly enjoyed a good feed. Last month she had met twenty of them. They were all wonderful people, each had their own special gift. Mellissa had never been in a room filled with so many souls that flared as brightly. They were all ages, some older than Carlo and herself, others around the same age, and a handful similar in age to Genevieve. Their gifts varied from heightened intuition to being able to speak with the dead. They were, indeed, a very special bunch. Mellissa smiled at the thought.

“You seem better today, Mellissa? I couldn’t help notice that you’ve been a little distracted,” Carlo said, as he loaded a dish with layers of pasta and meat.

“What do you mean? I’m fine,” Mellissa replied as breezily as possible. She thought she’d managed to hide her feelings well enough. Clearly Carlo was better at reading people than she gave him credit for.

“Well, I am always here to listen, bella. No need to keep up appearances for me. You’re not getting enough sleep for one. Don’t think I don’t notice how tired you are, and I know you still worry over Bertram.”

“I’m alright, Carlo. Sleep is overrated anyway,” she said, with a half-hearted smile. The truth was, she wasn’t sleeping much. Too distracted by her role as the Soul Guide. It was just as well Carlo didn’t expect her to be working all day in the café because most of her time was spent delivering souls. She never went to the Veil physically, or at least her body didn’t. Her soul, at least a part of it, was always in the Veil but it exhausted her nonetheless. The last time she had slept well was at Clayhill. The irony wasn’t lost to her.

Carlo, misunderstanding Mellissa’s silence, patted her on the arm. “Bertram will be fine. As you know, that brew I concocted was just something to help him to open up, to accept other people into his life. To allow himself to have friends. I got the impression he didn’t have many of those.”

Mellissa sighed. “No, and one of them is here.”

If she were completely honest with herself, she had expected Bertram to have come looking for her by now. She was surprised that he had kept his word and given her the space she had craved so much. He had stuck to his side of the bargain. Could she stick by hers and go back to him?

“Have you heard from Bertram at all?” Carlo asked.

Mellissa finished loading up the last platter and took the lasagne dish from Carlo, placing it in the fridge ready to be heated tomorrow. “No, I haven’t. There are no phones at Clayhill, so I guess the only way for him to contact me is by letter and as none have turned up, I’m assuming he’s still angry with me.” Bertram hadn’t bothered to take the more direct route and come through the door either, but she wasn’t about to say that.

“I see,” Carlo said, and something in his voice made Mellissa stop what she was doing.

“What is it Carlo?” she asked.

“As much as I like having you here Mellissa, don’t you think it’s time you went back home?”

Mellissa blanched. “I thought you didn’t mind me staying?”

“Oh, bella, that is not what I meant. I have enjoyed your company very much, as has Genevieve. But, you and I both know that you are hiding here. It is time, I think, to face him. Staying here was never meant to be forever. You know that, don’t you?”

“I didn’t realise staying here had an end date,” she said bitterly, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.

Carlo patted Mellissa on the hand. “You are welcome to return any time you wish. Myself and Genevieve care about you. I would never suggest returning to Bertram if I did not think it right. Trust me when I say that I have your best interests at heart. We are friends, no?”

Mellissa saw the sincerity in his eyes, in his soul. “Yes, of course we are. I do trust you. It’s just, I’m not sure I am ready to go back yet.” She wasn’t ready. Not at all. Going back meant having to confront her relationship with Bertram. Confront a future without her son. A future where all she would have was memories of him and a life filled with being a midwife to the souls, instead of being a mother to her baby. She was so conflicted. She knew it was the right thing to do, but why did she have to sacrifice so much in return? And the worst thing? She couldn’t speak of this to anyone. Least of all Bertram.

Carlo took Mellissa’s hands in his. “When are we ever ready to do something we’re afraid of? If you think like that, you may never return to Bertram. Put your fear aside, Mellissa, and do what is right. Being with Bertram is the right thing for you to do. Trust me on this…” Carlo’s voice trailed off as he caught the look in Mellissa’s eyes.

“What do you know Carlo?” she asked, determined to get to the truth this time.

Carlo sighed. “I told you Mellissa. I understand people. I can see what is best for them even when they cannot. Bertram is best for you.”

“But, what do I do? I can’t love him.”

“Yes, you can.”

Mellissa withdrew her hands from his. “We’ve gone over this Carlo. I can’t love him the way he wants. I thought you understood that.”

“I understand perfectly well Mellissa. There are many kinds of love. What does it matter which way you choose to love him?”

“It matters to him.”

“Then convince him that the love you can give is just as worthy as the love you cannot. Make him understand. I believe he is a good man. No, I know he is a good man. He will understand.”

“I don’t know…” Mellissa didn’t know whether she could do what she must. She had lost so much, gained so much, and she wasn’t sure whether she could sacrifice anymore of herself. It wasn’t fair to her or to Bertram.

“Do you have so little faith in me?”

Mellissa turned to see Bertram standing in the kitchen doorway. He looked only at her, waiting for her response. She noticed the bags under his eyes. He looked thinner, as though he hadn’t eaten in a month.

“Bertram…” she started. How much of the conversation had he heard? By the look on his face, most of it.

Carlo coughed. “Well, I see you made your way here at last. I shall leave you both to it.” He passed Mellissa giving her a look of encouragement and squeezed Bertram on the shoulder before exiting the kitchen.

Bertram frowned. “You’ve been staying here all this time?”

“Who let you up?” Mellissa asked, ignoring his question. The words came out harsher than she had intended.

“I asked first,” he said.

Mellissa puffed out a breath, still stubborn then. “Yes, Carlo was kind enough to let me stay here while I figured out some stuff. He’s been good to me.”

“I bet he has,” Bertram muttered.

“It’s not like that, Bertram.”

“Not like what Mellissa?” He was pissed off. She got it, but he needn’t be so rude about Carlo. That was out of order. “Carlo is my friend. He understands me,” Mellissa said.

“Oh, and I don’t? You never gave me a chance to understand you. You keep yourself so locked up.”

Bertram stepped closer to Mellissa. She saw he was angry, that was obvious, but she couldn’t feel his anger. She couldn’t hear his thoughts this time and she wasn’t sure she liked it. What had changed so dramatically that she was no longer connected to him like before?

“It’s different with Carlo, he has no expectations of me.”

Bertram stopped in his tracks. He stood not an arm’s distance from her. She hadn’t realised he had got so close until that very moment. She looked defiantly at him. She wouldn’t be made to feel bad for not loving him. She just wouldn’t.

He looked at her for a good long minute. He didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Mellissa felt something skip inside her chest, but she shoved that feeling down. She was just annoyed, nothing more.

“I get it Mellissa. I understand you plainly. I understand our situation. I understand what we must do. I understand what’s at stake. I understand it all, and I am willing to be the person you need me to be. Hand on my heart, I promise I have no expectations other than to be your friend. I came here to ask you to come back to Clayhill. It’s just not the same without you.”

Mellissa was speechless for a moment. She waited for the lie to come hurtling down their connection, but there was nothing. She couldn’t feel him anymore. The connection was there still, but it was like an empty corridor with her at one end and Bertram at the other, and both behind a closed door. She concentrated on the doors separating them, and pushed against them with her mind. Nothing. There was nothing. All the time he was looking at her calmly, oblivious to what they had lost.

The thing was, he’d never actually said the words out loud, but she knew he loved her. At least he had when she’d left Clayhill. Now, she didn’t know for sure. There was nothing, their connection had gone cold and for some reason that made her sadder than she’d expected.

Gulping back the lump that had formed in her throat, Mellissa nodded her understanding. “Thank you, Bertram. I shall go and tell Carlo that I’m ready to come home.”

Bertram stepped aside. “Sure thing, though by the look on that girl’s face I reckon he’s got his hands full right now.”

“What girl? What do you mean?”

“The girl who let me up. About yay high,” he said, his hand hovering just below his shoulder. “Long white-blonde hair, cute. When I asked where you were she said to come up. She asked me to get Carlo for her, she seemed upset like she’d been crying or something. I didn’t bother saying anything as Carlo was heading downstairs anyway. Why?”

Mellissa didn’t reply. She pushed past Bertram and headed down to the café, a dead weight in her stomach.