Authors: Maggie Mundy
Chapter 7
It was four days since Aunty Eileen’s wake. Cara’s tears had finally stopped, since there were no tears left. The air was fresh. The sun was out and she needed a break. A visit to Bath to see her Shakespeare play would be perfect. She just wished there weren’t quite so many tourists.
The first two acts of the play at the Theatre Royal were fantastic. She waited in the queue in the coffee shop in the interval and thought about the other reason she had come to Bath. She intended to visit the bookshop Shona had mentioned. It was silly but she couldn’t get it off of her mind.
Someone kept sighing behind her in the queue. They were probably entitled to sigh, due to the fact the lady in front of her at the counter was going over every single item on the menu. Cara looked around and gasped.
“Matcher.” The name slipped out before she remembered they didn’t really know each other. He didn’t look away. In fact, he peered at her even more closely. “Sorry, you’re my follow-on appointment at the counselor’s. Look, ignore me. It’s okay, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
He stayed silent, staring. “I was rude that day, sorry.” Matcher mumbled.
It wasn’t the comment she had expected and she couldn’t stop herself from smiling.
“Thanks. So you like Shakespeare?”
“Still not sure I understand what the fuck he’s on about, but he’s deep. Says things in five words the rest of us can never say.”
Again a reply she didn’t expect.
“Can I help you?” The woman behind the counter interrupted with a fake smile. Cara managed to return an equally fake one. They didn’t get a chance to say much more as the bell rang to say the show would be starting again soon.
When the show was finished Cara waited outside the theatre for Matcher. There was something about him. Insanity most likely. It made them more compatible as friends. Her life was weird and she needed all the help she could get. Matcher fitted weird. He stopped in front of her, peering again. She needed to say something.
“I was going to a bookshop. Would you like to see what they have there? Then we could have something to eat.”
He shuffled from one foot to the other, before he glanced up and down the street. She wasn’t going to bite him. He could go if he wanted. Finally, he spoke. “Sure.”
Broomsticks hanging from the ceiling showed the area of the bookshop they should head toward. Matcher just kept browsing. The book she wanted was called
Immortality and Witchcraft, Fact or
Fiction.
The website said it contained information on cults believing in immortality. It also mentioned a connection with witches, plus the modern medical views on living longer. Sounded like perfect bedtime reading for the lonely and depressed.
That was her all right
.
There was a bunch of schoolgirls giggling and flicking through the pages of a book, called
Love Spells
. Casting a spell and making sure your romance was going to work could save a lot of time and effort. Maybe she would be able to make her dream lover real. That might not be such a good idea. She would be tired all the time and never get any work done. She smiled. What a way to get exhausted.
Matcher dislodged one of the books on the table. He sent the pile spilling to the floor. The schoolgirls continued to giggle, as he scrambled around trying to pick the books up. The half of his face not covered with a long black fringe glowed red with embarrassment.
“Here let me help.” Cara offered.
“Thanks,” he answered, avoiding the stares of the schoolgirls. “I’m going to get this one. I’ll meet you outside.”
Cara kept searching but couldn’t find the book she wanted. The assistant at the empty counter smiled politely as she approached.
“I’m looking for a book called
Immortality and Witchcraft, Fact or Fiction
,” Cara said.
The woman typed the title into her computer. As Cara waited, someone walked up to the other counter beside her. She turned to look. Her world stopped as she met the slate gray gaze of the man staring straight at her. This wasn’t possible. He couldn’t exist. He was just a dream lover. Yet there he was, standing next to her as big as life.
She tried to smile, but it probably came out as more of a grin. He didn’t smile back. Her legs turned to jelly. If she didn’t breathe, she would pass out. She reached out and gripped the counter. One of them had to look away but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Someone was talking to her and the moment was broken.
“Excuse me.”
“Sorry,” Cara replied, as she forced herself to look at the salesperson. She was afraid if she glanced back, he would be gone. Her imagination must be playing tricks on her.
“It looks like we should have one copy left.” The woman said.
“I think I’m just about to sell it.” The other shop assistant said coming up to the register. “We could order it in for you. It might take a couple of weeks.”
“Please, take my copy.” The man at the other counter held out the book. His voice was deep, exactly as it was in her dreams. She was caught again in his gaze. The world disappeared and for a moment they were the only two people alive locked in the look they shared. Her hand went to her chest. She could feel her heart racing at the thought of him being near.
“Thank you, but no I couldn’t. You had the book first.”
“Please, take it. I have plenty of time to wait for another copy to come in.”
She found it hard to say no. Perhaps, it was the fact he was about six three and wore grey bike leathers. They added to the effect of making him look powerful. The shaved head and the stubble on his face gave a menacing look, but she wasn’t afraid of him. This wasn’t right. Her life was wild enough without dream lovers becoming real.
Plus, she wouldn’t want her other dreams to become real as well. She needed to say something, or he would think she was an idiot standing there with her mouth gaping. He held the book out to her. As she took it, her hand touched his. It was such a tiny touch and yet it meant he was real. She felt the heat rising up her neck as she blushed. She also sensed another heat inside her. It was the same way he had made her feel in her dreams.
“Thanks.” Cara paid for her book and listened as he confirmed his contact details. Seth Scanlon. She had a name. She wasn’t really stalking. Taking another book off a shelf, she flipped through the pages. He glanced her way before he left and caught her gaze once more.
She couldn’t fool herself. The look he gave her was so intense she felt he was seeing inside her soul. Her breath caught. She shivered although the shop was warm. For a split second, she considered following him and saying he must remember all the times they had made love.
She could just imagine the expression he would give her. He didn’t know her. She was a stranger. The shop became suffocating as she pulled at the collar of her jumper. She needed to be outside. There was no sign of him on the street. For a moment, she wanted to cry. At this rate, she would give the silly schoolgirls in the shop a run for their money.
“Take my word on it. He’s dark,” Matcher said, behind her.
“What?”
“Look, it’s nothing to me. I just wondered, that’s all.” Matcher shuffled from one foot to the other.
“Wondered what?”
“You need to ask. I don’t need to wonder.” He turned away.
This made no sense at all. “Do you still want that coffee?” She asked.
“If you’re paying, why not?”
They made their way down to Sally Lunn’s Coffee Shop, which as always was warm and full of noisy customers. The Sally Lunn buns in the cabinet looked tempting. Her newfound company could do with some fattening up. Their cups of coffee arrived.
“I thought Matcher was your surname. Jessica’s receptionist called you Mr. Matcher.”
“Matcher’s fine. I don’t like my first name.”
“What is it?” Silence, surprise, surprise. Cara watched as he took off his fingerless gloves and put three sugars in his coffee. He cradled the coffee cup in his pale hands.
“Do you mind if we don’t talk about the stuff with Jessica.”
That was fair enough. She didn’t want his past medical history anyway and was sure he wouldn’t want hers.
“Can I have a look at the book you’ve bought?”
He pushed the bag across the table. Cara offered her purchase for him to look at. His book was entitled,
Near Death Experiences
,
When the Light Calls You.
She wondered if there was a section on mutilated bodies. She doubted it. Matcher glanced through her book. Cara had an irresistible urge to push his fringe back so she could see his eyes.
“You said the man in the bookshop was dark, the one who had bought this book. What did you mean?”
Matcher stiffened at her question. “He’s different, like you. I thought you could see it, but you can’t.” Matcher put his cup down and stared at her.
“In what way am I different?”
Matcher shrugged. “You’re open. People who see stuff would think you were the same.”
“You mean people who see ghosts and things would think I was their friend.”
“I see people differently. I don’t know, probably like those aura things. I see colors around bodies. I thought you saw his. It was grey like his bike leathers.” Matcher picked up his bun and started to pull it apart. He groaned in pleasure as the flavors hit his tongue.
“And what color’s mine?”
“I’m just starting to learn this stuff. You’re all the usual colors, except your higher plane is so bright a blue; it hurts to look at it. You’ve got a couple of dark spots on your physical plane. Your inner plane’s grey like his. Do you know him?” Matcher shoved a large piece of bun in his mouth and when he had finished it said. “Oh my god, this is so good. How did I not know this place existed?”
“Look, I’m going to get another coffee, you want one?”
“Yeh.”
Cara glanced over at Matcher as she stood at the counter. What would she tell him? It didn’t really matter in the long run. She was probably never going to see him again anyway. There was something slightly comforting that someone else had peculiar things happening to them. Sometimes, it was easier to talk to a stranger who had no preconceived ideas. Maybe she was reassured by the fact he could see auras like she could do magic. She should be scared but instead felt as if she had met a kindred spirit.
It didn’t seem quite so ridiculous repeating all the things that had happened. Matcher sat listening to every word as if he were soaking it up. She even found herself telling him about the photograph and some of the dreams and that she had seen Seth in them, but not what they had done. She kept the magic to herself though for now.
“Jessica must think you’re really fucked up if you come out with this stuff. She’ll be asking for a holiday with the two of us on her books.”
Cara breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t gotten up and run away, then again he was odd too.
“She only knows about the dreams and the picture. The day I saw you at her office and you looked unwell was the day I learned my grandmother died. I doubt I’ll repeat any of this to her. I went to the bookshop today to get this book so I could make some sense of this stuff that’s happening. Then, I’ll forget it and get on with my life.”
“You can try forgetting, but it won’t work. I thought at first there was some reason for me to see auras. Mum believed it would help me, but so far it hasn’t. It’s just happening. If you’re like me, it won’t go away. Let it take you somewhere.”
The loony bin was where it would take her. “And where has that attitude taken you so far?”
“It got me here sitting with you, and you’re the first person who believes me.”
He was biting his nails. Maybe he needed her more than she needed him, but she wanted to keep in contact. “How old are you?”
“Eighteen. Why do you want to know?”
“You working, or still studying?”
“Gave up school when I got too far behind. I’ve a job stocking at a supermarket.” He wouldn’t look up and stared into his coffee.
“I run a catering business. I need a waiter to help out with the dinner parties. Would you be interested?” Daniel would probably kill her for this.
“I suppose so. Why are you doing this? You don’t know me.” He looked up at her and pushed his fringe back so she could see both of his eyes.
“I think we’ve both had it rough, and I’d like to help.”
“Been a long time since a stranger wanted to help me. Trust it to be an odd one.” He laughed.
She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “This is our card. If you’re still interested in a few days, then call.”
“Ours.” Matcher started to bite what was left of his thumbnail.
“Daniel is my partner in the business. He’s vicious if you don’t come up with the goods. Be forewarned.” Cara said. “He is also meticulous about presentation. The piercings and the fringe would have to go.”
“I reckon if you’re going to take a chance on me, I’ll take one on you. I’ll phone.” Matcher leaned forward and hugged her, and then quickly jumped back. “Shit, that was awesome. Your aura’s so powerful.”
“I never felt a thing. I’ll just have to take your word on that.” Cara watched him walk off, then finished her coffee and started to make her way back to her car. There was a newsagent on the next corner. Their new advertisement for the business should be in
The Bristol Evening Post
. Her stomach clenched. Bile rose in her throat as she looked at the news board out the front of the shop.
“The Slice and Dice Killer Strikes in Bath.”
Beneath the words, was a drawing of the symbol she had seen too many times in her dreams, and on a photograph belonging to a disgruntled journalist.