Seven Point Eight (12 page)

“There’s a strong spirit who watches over you on a regular basis,” she told Paul.

He didn’t know what to think. These tests and the abilities of the subjects didn’t appear to have any scientific basis, although nevertheless, they piqued his curiosity. Beth continued to focus on him.

“The blitz…”

Those two simple words opened his heart but before Beth could continue, Miss Tynedale led him away.

“There’ll be another time and place for a personal reading,” she informed him. “We cannot prejudice the test. I take it you clearly understand the nature of Beth and Peter’s abilities?”

Paul nodded, regretting the interruption. He genuinely wanted to hear Beth out.

“Contact with the deceased, I would suggest.”

She gave a nod of approval and gestured to Paul to follow her, while he gazed back at Beth, who tried to mouth something at him. He shrugged and figured there’d be another time and place for what Beth wished to impart.

In another room, Paul found two men, again seated at different tables.

“This is Oscar and George,” Miss Tynedale introduced.

Oscar was a stocky Afro-Caribbean man with a pleasant smile, mellow brown eyes, and a huge shock of curly hair. In his early twenties, he exhibited a typical laid-back
Barbados
demeanour whereas George, his companion, looked quite the typical English gentleman in his hat, which almost entirely covered his salt and pepper hair. He had the aristocratic nose of a lord and a slim frame, and appeared to be anywhere between late thirties and mid-fifties.

They each sat a table and in front of them lay a map, plus paper and pen. Miss Tynedale pointed out that each map had a location highlighted in contrasting ink, and when she indicated, both men seemed to drift off into some sort of trance. After a short while, they began sketching and scribbling notes, which Paul found intriguing. Finally, Miss Tynedale began to clarify what they were doing.

“This is a form of psychic reconnaissance we use on a regular basis, to uncover what is hidden in secret locations and to check on the movements of enemies.”

She passed him George’s scribbles and he saw that they’d drawn buildings and equipment reflecting, he guessed, what was actually at the location indicated on the map.

“How does this work?” Paul enquired.

Oscar described the process.

“It’s like my eyes and mind travel to another place, but my body is still here. I see distant places.”

Paul mused upon this explanation for a moment.

“Hmmm, it’s like a particular kind of distance vision… remote viewing.”

Miss Tynedale smiled, as all the demonstrations appeared to have aroused Paul’s curiosity.

“That’s all for today,” she concluded. “There is another resident who’s currently in hospital. She’ll see you as soon as she returns. Mr Richardson would like to speak to you though.”

They transferred downstairs to the office and Paul expected to find Max in there. Instead, Miss Tynedale picked up the telephone and dialled out. After a pause, Paul could just hear Max’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Yes, he’s here,” she said, “I’ve made the introductions.”

She handed the receiver to Paul and before he could say anything, Max outlined his objectives.

“Now that you’ve met my residents, I’ll let you in on the reason I moved you to The Institute. There are technicians at The Institute to assist with and monitor a series of tests, this isn’t your role. Your objective is to use your background in physics and quantum theory to explain the workings, or the source of their abilities.”

This certainly took Paul by surprise.

“Okay. Will this be purely theoretical, or will evidence be required?”

“I’m looking for a hypothesis initially,” Max stated, with focus. “Eventually, I’d like an in depth analysis of their abilities, with a report on each individual.”

Paul indicated he understood and the phone call ended. Miss Tynedale looked at him with expectation.

“Wow,” was all he could say.

***

In the morning, Miss Tynedale surprised him further at breakfast with an invitation. At that moment, he’d actually drifted off into some parallel reality, looking philosophically out of the window. After she cleared her throat, he gave her the full attention she required.

“Some of the residents have the day off and they’re going to visit the Natural History Museum. They’d like you to accompany them.”

Now, that was a pleasant surprise.

“Well, tell them I’d be honoured,” he responded.

He wondered which residents were going. When Emilie, Oscar, and Beth entered the room, they answered his silent query. Sitting down at the adjacent table, they took breakfast together. The three psychics appraised the eminent physicist who’d come to work with them, a little shy of making conversation. Before long, they’d all put their coats and scarves on, and were on their way.

They took the underground and alighted at
South Kensington
, then proceeded along
Exhibition Road
to the museum. Two women walked by, pushing perambulators and almost ran them over, but they managed to dodge them at the last minute. A telegram boy in his navy blue uniform with red piping and pillbox cap passed by, bring news of a birth, marriage, or death to some family on a nearby street.

The museum came into view. Paul was impressed at the architectural splendour of the building, although the others didn’t pay as much attention. Emilie watched an old man with a flat cap on his head, who was deep in thought whilst smoking a cigarette.

“Penny for his thoughts?” Paul queried.

“He is just worrying about his family, his son is sick.”

They entered the museum, sorted out the admission and tried to orientate themselves in the reception area. Paul steered them over to the first area and proceeded to view the dinosaurs and animals, which Emilie gazed at thoughtfully. It seemed like a good opportunity to get to know her better, and he sidled over to her.

“So… you can really read minds?”

She smiled in that coquettish manner.

“That is why I live at The Institute.”

Hmmm, that didn’t seem to get the conversation flowing, so he tried to probe further.

“Are you reading my mind now?”

A person could feel strangely exposed in her company. To what extent could she uncover someone’s secrets?

“I can close my mind if I wish,” she replied, “It’s just like shutting a door, because otherwise, there would be no surprises. If life is written in advance, the thrill disappears, and life becomes dull.”

He wondered if Emilie had ever pierced Max’s inner sanctum and pondered it quite intensely. She gave him a wry look.

“There are some things that we should not know,” she declared, “and I do not wish to probe.”

Okay, he’d potentially touched a raw nerve.

The four of them studied the bones of dinosaurs and then moved onto a different exhibition, based on
Egypt
. Oscar and Beth began looking at some reliefs of Egyptian Gods, lingering over the images depicting odd hybrid creatures: jackal, crocodile, ibis, and hawk headed people.

 
“The Egyptians believed in the afterlife and the ‘other world’,” Beth said. “They called it the Duat. Their gods inhabited that world.”

Paul pointed to one of the deities.

“I think this figure, here, with the dog-like head is Anubis. He presided over mummification and the afterlife.”

The scene portrayed Anubis weighing a heart with some scales and a feather. Oscar pointed to another character.

“Anyone remember this one, with the long beaked head?”

Paul studied it briefly and then answered, “I’m sure that’s Thoth, the knowledge keeper.”

“Their spirits are still there, in the Duat,” Beth said, “although I’ve never spoken with them.”

She closed her eyes, briefly drifting off into a trance and hanging onto a railing in case she became disorientated. Eventually, she opened her eyes and spoke to Paul.

“Madeleine told me that when the bomb hit, it was instantaneous. ‘I didn’t suffer…the light came for me quickly.’ She wanted you to know that.”

So that was what Beth wanted to impart yesterday.

Paul felt strangely moved and liberated. Logic told him Madeleine was gone but the memory of her still haunted him. He wanted Beth to truly be in contact with her, although his scientific voice insisted on evidence.

His rational mind spoke out, “How do I know it’s really her?”

“On the night of your engagement, you told her that she danced beautifully, like your mother.”

That statement brought back so many memories, of when life was simple… He wanted to believe there was an extension of life after death, however, belief and truth were often two separate entities.

“Does she often watch over me?” he questioned further, as if accepting her spirit did indeed communicate with Beth.

“Sometimes, when the thread of connection between her world and ours is thin.”

“Her world?”

“She says it’s a place which is everywhere and nowhere…it can’t be located. You’d probably describe it as a different reality, in your quantum terms. She wishes you weren’t sceptical.”

Paul felt a little embarrassed, as if he were disrespecting Beth’s abilities.

“I’m not sceptical… this just wasn’t what I expected.”

“She understands,” Beth relayed. “But there is something that she wanted me to pass on.”

Paul looked to her in readiness to listen.

 
“’You don’t have to be loyal to my memory’, she’s telling me. It’s okay to move on and find happiness. When the opportunity presents itself, I know you’ll feel reluctant but it’s important to take the plunge. There is a woman who will show you great joy…and great sadness. Love is, as ever, a double-edged sword.”

Beth touched his arm then walked away, joining Emilie at the next exhibit and leaving Paul to be alone with his thoughts.

These people he’d met at The Institute, they really opened his eyes. It would be a pleasure to study them.

***

The first week at The Institute offered an easy ride, allowing Paul to settle in and become accustomed to the testing practices. He engaged with the technicians, and spent several days looking through the experiments and logs of all recorded tests. Overall, it gave him a good foundation to work from.

On the eighth day, the missing resident of The Institute returned. A taxi pulled up outside that morning, just as Paul was finishing his tea, and because he sat in the bay window area, he saw who climbed out. The taxi driver assisted an old lady to the door, with her hospital suitcase. Paul heard Miss Tynedale welcoming her back, some shuffling around and then the door opened.

“Someone is very eager to meet you,” she said.

Paul finished his tea and swung his body around to face the door.

 
“This is Grace,” Miss Tynedale introduced, gesturing to a sparkly eyed, old woman in her mid-sixties. “She’s the longest serving resident here.”

Grace looked quite withered for her years, but Paul caught a glint of intelligence in her eyes. Her white, wispy hair had been tied into a bun, which sat in the nape of her neck. She walked slowly with rounded shoulders, each step carefully calculated, for she was cursed with arthritis and a slight scoliosis of the spine. Paul warmed to her instantly. She was just like somebody’s grandmother, the matriarch who baked cakes and served tea on a Sunday afternoon.