Secrets & Souls - prequel to The Soul Guide
Chapter 3

Mellissa placed the last of the cut sandwiches in the picnic basket and shut the lid. Bertram would be joining her any minute and she was nervous. She shouldn’t have kissed him, not after what she’d seen in his head. Not when she had seen how his soul reacted. God, it was like seeing the sun through a gap in the clouds. It had almost blinded her. Being able to hear his thoughts and see his soul was exhausting. He wanted her, that much was plain. She felt guilty, perhaps she had led him on. She hadn’t meant to. She liked him, sure. In fact, she more than liked him. They were a part of each other in such a special way. She knew he felt the connection. She also knew he didn’t understand it; that he thought he was in love with her. But he wasn’t. It wasn’t love, it couldn’t be. She understood what love was and what it was like to lose it. That she understood in spades.

She was determined to set things straight, and tonight would be the perfect opportunity to do that. Behind her the kitchen door opened.

“I’ve got a blanket, and a torch. It’s pretty dark in the wood no matter what time of day it is,” Bertram said, as he entered the kitchen.

Mellissa gulped, he was an open book. She wished his thoughts would quiet down a bit. She’d have to replace a way to block them otherwise she’d never be able to look at him again.

“Good idea. I never did eat carrots as a kid,” she said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“What?”

“Have you never been told that if you eat your carrots you’ll be able to see in the dark?”

“Can’t say I have, no.”

“Oh, well anyway, shall we go?”

“Sure. I’ll lead the way,” Bertram said, as they left the kitchen and headed across the lawn.

It didn’t take long to get to the bluff. Apart from the occasional comment about how thoroughly dark the forest was, they had remained silent. Mellissa hated the dark, and she was glad of Bertram’s company, even if it was awkward. There were a couple of times when she’d almost grabbed his hand as they made their way through the dense forest, but she’d stopped herself just in time remembering his earlier thoughts. He didn’t need any more encouragement.

Once they’d exited the forest and were making their way across the field towards the coast, Mellissa felt Bertram’s nerves and it was making her own worse. Tonight was her opportunity to clear the air between them at least enough so that they could live with each other comfortably.

“Bertram, thanks for doing this. As much as I’ve come to love Clayhill, I was feeling a bit cooped up. Getting out helps.”

Bertram looked sideways at Mellissa. “Sure thing,” he said.

Mellissa smiled. It had only been a few months since she’d arrived but she already knew Bertram pretty well. He wasn’t one for words. He was the silent, thoughtful type. The kind of man you’d replace observing a party rather than partaking in it. She liked that about him. It was refreshing.

“How about we sit here,” Bertram said, pointing towards a spot set back from the cliff edge where the ground dipped down slightly. “The wind is stronger up here and it will give us a bit of shelter.”

“OK.” Mellissa placed the picnic basket on the grass. The sun had slipped past the horizon a few minutes before, and the sky was already beginning to sparkle with stars. She inhaled a deep breath. “I love the smell of the sea, reminds me of trips to the seaside as a child,” she said.

“For a holiday? Where did you visit?” Bertram asked as he shook out the blanket for them to sit on.

“No, I didn’t get much of those. I used to go on day trips to Littlehampton, organised by the orphanage I grew up in. On those days, I used to pretend that the carers were my parents and the other children my brothers and sisters. Stupid, really.”

“You were an orphan?” Bertram said, unable to hide his surprise. She could hear his thoughts shooting through their connection. First, he felt sorry for her. Then he felt a kinship, having grown up without a mother or a father too, but reasoning to himself, he had his grandfather at least, he knew what it was to have family. Lastly, he wanted to reach out and hug her. He wanted to ask the dozen more questions that were fizzing on his tongue. Yet, he remained patiently waiting for her to continue.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have shared that piece of information with him. Who knew where his questions would lead. She had secrets. Secrets that she couldn’t share with him. Secrets that hurt her heart.

“Yes, I was. I didn’t know my father and barely remember my mother. She died when I was two. There was no-one else, so I was sent to live in a Barnardo’s care home just outside London. I left as soon as I could,” Mellissa said matter-of-factly. Bertram opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off abruptly.

“But that’s all in the past. I have no desire to go over it. My future is here, now, with you.” It came out harsher than she’d wanted, but it was the only way to prevent him from delving further. She didn’t want to answer the next question on his lips. The one where he was desperate to know the reason for all her tears these past few weeks. She couldn’t answer that question, not without lying and he didn’t deserve lies.

“I see,” he said, although she knew he didn’t.

Mellissa pulled down the sleeves of her jumper, suddenly feeling chilly. Bertram was a good man, she’d known that the moment she’d touched him. Every day since, he had shown her how kind, how thoughtful he was. It must have been unnerving for him to hear her crying and not understanding the real reason for her tears. If he thought it was because of her upbringing, then she wasn’t about to correct him.

“Shall we eat?” he said sitting down.

“Of course,” Mellissa smiled, settling herself besides him on the blanket. She pulled out the food from the picnic basket and lay it out between them both. “I made cheese and pickle on white for you, and pastrami and gherkin on granary for me.”

“Thanks,” Bertram said, unwrapping the sandwich. He took a bite before pouring himself and Mellissa a cup of coffee from the flask she’d brought along too. Mellissa noticed that his hands trembled slightly, and she knew that it wasn’t from the sudden, chilly wind that had blown in off the sea.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he started, looking at her briefly before his gaze rested on the horizon. Mellissa, sensing his question wasn’t going to be about her past but their future, didn’t interrupt this time. “What happens now?” he said.

“What do you mean?”

Bertram chewed on his nail. “You’ve been here three months. We do the same thing every day. We rub along OK. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice having you here…”

“Nice?” Mellissa teased, then stopped short from uttering the next words on her tongue. Flirting wasn’t appropriate, given how Bertram felt about her. “Sorry, you were saying?” she said.

Bertram coughed. “Since you took me to that hall with those mirrors, I’ve had so many questions. Every day I’ve been wanting to talk to you about what happened but I sensed you needed space. I figured that you would tell me in your own time. But, well, I need to understand what’s going on. I mean, I know you’re the Soul Guide, but what is that exactly? And why did you come to me?”

Mellissa placed her half-eaten sandwich back on the paper plate in front of her. She felt guilty. She’d been so wrapped up in her own feelings that she hadn’t even thought about what this would be like for Bertram. She’d taken his kindness for granted and the thought made her feel sick suddenly. “I’m sorry Bertram, I’ve been very selfish. You’ve been so kind to me, accepting all of this, accepting me. You deserve better.”

Mellissa frowned, it was all so difficult to explain. There were things she couldn’t speak of, for his sake as well as her own, but she could tell him this. Better to give him a little of the truth even if she couldn’t tell him all of it. “Think of me like a midwife. A midwife delivers newborn babies into the world. Well, I kind of do the same, but with souls.”

Bertram’s mouth popped open into a perfect shaped O. It was kind of comical, but now was not the time for laughter.

“I know, sounds crazy, doesn’t it? But that’s what I do. I’m the Soul Guide. I deliver souls to their rightful bodies.” Mellissa said. She heard all the questions he had, they were like missiles firing through his thoughts. She wondered which he would ask first.

“How?” he asked, eventually.

“It doesn’t really matter how I do it. What matters is that I continue to do it. Staying here, with you, at Clayhill, allows me the freedom to do that without… distraction.”

“Why here, why me?”

That was a little harder to answer. At least, it was when she couldn’t tell him the whole truth. “When I became the Soul Guide, I had a vision. You were in it and so was Clayhill.” Mellissa paused, unsure how to go on without revealing too much. “Somehow I just knew how to replace you. It’s all a mystery to me too.” It was a white lie, barely a lie even, but it felt wrong saying it.

Bertram raised his eyebrows. “Do you mind?” he asked, as he pulled a pack of rolling tobacco from his pocket.

“Sure,” Mellissa said. She wasn’t bothered by cigarette smoke. It wasn’t long since she’d given up herself. She almost asked him for one, then stopped herself, remembering the reason she’d given up in the first place. She didn’t want to be reminded. Not now, not ever. Bertram remained quiet as he concentrated on rolling his cigarette.

“You do believe me, don’t you?” she asked, afraid that he would turf her out of the only place that had ever felt like home. That errant thought surprising her more than anything that had happened so far.

Bertram lit the rolled cigarette, blowing out a steady breath before answering. “I have to admit it Mellissa, I would have found all of this hard to believe had it not been for our first encounter and what happened that day. So, yes, as crazy as this all is, I do believe you although I get the sense that there are things you’re holding back.” Mellissa tried to interrupt, but he held up his hand and she swallowed her protestation. “I won’t press you further. I’m hoping in time you’ll be able to tell me what it is you’re keeping locked inside. In the meantime, I will do all I can to help you. No matter how we’ve been brought together, I’m glad of it. Clayhill is your home now as much as it is mine. I’m happy you’re here,” he said, holding her gaze.

Mellissa’s heart did an unexpected flip-flop, surprising her more than his words did. She played with the ends of her hair, a habit she had formed as a child to comfort her when she felt uneasy. “Thank you, for understanding, for trusting me.”

Bertram shrugged. “I figured if you wanted to do something to hurt me, you would’ve by now.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not in the habit of murdering people in their sleep.”

Bertram choked on his drink. “Who said anything about murder?”

“It’s a joke. I’m joking of course,” Mellissa said quickly.

Bertram stared at her for a long moment and Mellissa wondered whether he’d changed his mind about her. Then she felt his amusement before his laughter began.

“The look on your face.”

Mellissa gave him a gentle shove. “I think you and are I going to get along just fine,” she said, and she meant every word of it.

For the next few minutes they sat in companionable silence, finishing their sandwiches. Mellissa took the time to take in her surroundings more closely. The stars were spectacular. She hadn’t lied when she said that she’d loved to gaze up at them as a child. In her most lonely of nights, when all the other children in the home had fallen asleep, she would creep out of bed, pull back the curtains that were damp with mildew, and stare at the night sky. By the time she had left the orphanage, she was able to name most of the constellations. Tonight, when she looked above her at the blanket of stars that littered the sky she could see Cancer, and at its centre, she could just make out Praesepe. Now that she understood her role more clearly and her place in the world, it seemed more than a coincidence that Praesepe happened to be her favourite. It was a little dull tonight, but she could still place it.

“See that there,” she said pointing to the cluster of stars that looked like nothing more than a misty cloud to the uninformed. “That is Praesepe, the Beehive Cluster of stars. Some say it is the gateway where souls entered Earth from Heaven.”

“And is it?” Bertram asked, his breath warm on her neck. She hadn’t realised he had got so close. She shifted sideways, giving herself some space. She felt his disappointment before she saw it.

“Well, I guess that depends on what you believe. Is there a heaven? I’m not sure I know the answer to that, even now. What I do know is that there is more to this world than what I understood before. There is magic, and mystery, and there are souls. Souls that I am responsible for, Bertram. My duty is to take care of them now.” Mellissa felt her hands shake at the confession. Up until a few months ago, everything had been so different. No matter how much it killed her to say it, her life had taken a path she couldn’t run away from, despite all that she’d left behind and how much her heart was breaking.

Bertram sat forward resting his chin on his knees. “If that’s your duty, what you’re here for, then what is mine?”

“You’re the Caretaker, Bertram. You take care of Clayhill, of me, so I can take care of the souls. That is your responsibility now.”

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bertram staring at her but she remained looking ahead.

“And these keys. I still don’t know what I’m supposed to do with them?”

“Give it time. I’m sure it will all make sense soon. We’ll figure it out together.”

“You’re staying, permanently, then?” he asked, hope littering his thoughts. Hope of a future she couldn’t give him.

“Yes, I’m staying,” she said turning to him. She winced at the possibility she saw in his eyes. “Bertram, I am here to do a job. The souls are relying on me. I have a responsibility, as do you. There is no room for anything else.” She stopped talking, the hurt and disappointment on his face as luminous as the stars above them. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head.

He nodded, getting up. “I understand.”

She helped him gather the leftovers of their picnic knowing that he didn’t understand at all, and wishing she could tell him the whole truth.