Molly stirred in her sleep, rolled over to find Will in bed next to her, and wriggled over to snuggle into him, lapping up the warmth and smell of his skin. She loved feeling him so close after sleeping in an empty bed for what felt like way too long. Stirring in his sleep, Will turned over and wrapped his arms around Molly, pulling her body close to his, relishing the touch of her skin, having missed her over the past few weeks. There was no rush to go anywhere that morning. Having no idea what the time was, nor any desire to, Molly pulled the duvet up over their heads, her fingers found their way over Will’s body to his ticklish spots. Soon the playful giggles gave way to passionate kisses and they disappeared into a world of their own for the day….
By the time they woke again it was 2pm! Ravenous, Molly went out into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, something to eat and brought it back to bed. It was not until the late afternoon she followed the urge to go upstairs to The Attic. The sensation of being in The Attic reminded her of a tree house she had when she was a little girl. A place that was just for her, where she could let her imagination run wild. Where she could play safely with her ‘invisible’ friends. Recently Molly’s writings had taken on a new format and style, quite different from her previous work, and she was loving it. She felt so alive working up here and her creativity flowed with ease. As her fingers playfully tapped on the keyboard, the words seemed to flow through her from a magical source. Meditation had opened a new world to her, expanding her imagination, the characters for her stories were of the invisible people who had passed through her life from time to time. ‘Spirit People’ she had named them, people who would come to visit as she did a Tarot reading or during the middle of the night wanting to give her information. These Spirit People seemed to be suspended in Time, existing in a place somewhere between Heaven and Earth. The first book Molly had published was about her journal writings with her Guardian Angel, whom she had known since she was a small child. Initially, as a child she had been encouraged by her mother to call upon her guardian angel for help and wherever she felt scared. As a teenager, it was something she kept to herself and only confided with her best friend Annabelle about such matters. Then as an adult, she would communicate with this invisible being through journal writing. Not long before meeting Will, when she was doing readings full-time, the name ‘Grace’ had come to her when she was meditating one day in the stillness of the Australian bush on one of her visits to Sydney. Now with a deeper sense of knowing, she was beginning to understand a little more the connection with Grace Forrest, although her mind still struggled with the concept that they could possibly be one and the same Grace, previously known to her.
She sat quietly staring out the window, drifting into meditation. She loved that floating sensation – light, carefree, at ease. And of course, this made it easier to communicate with Grace Forrest. Thoughts of the unpublished journal drifted through her meditation, as Grace gently placed the thought seeds into Molly’s mind, inspiring her. The alarm on her phone brought her back to reality. The 20 minutes had passed so quickly. She looked around the room and saw Grace sitting up on the daybed reading through the journal. It appeared as if she has been doing this for quite some time. Molly was getting accustomed to Grace’s presence being much stronger and more frequent, and she really enjoyed her company.
“I am not sure how to do this Grace. I think it needs to be transcribed as a novel, to help the reader receive the information as a story, a fantasy.”
Grace took Molly’s hand and looked deeply into her eyes, her brilliant turquoise -blue eyes touched her soul. “There is something I need to share with you. Get comfortable on the daybed, close your eyes and listen carefully.”
Grace brushed her hand over Molly’s closed eyes, whispered some words of Magic in a language she did not understand. Molly’s mind drifted into a time passed, somewhere between dream state and ghostly impressions. Grace took her back in Time, to when she was living here in the house, after Callum had died. Molly watches on like a silent observer of an old movie – she can see Grace is sitting in the captain’s chair by the bureau, staring out the window. The sadness on her face is heart wrenching. Day after day, she sits there, dreaming of Callum returning home. Lucy took care of her, bringing her meals and cups of tea. Gradually Grace begins to respond to the nurturing. In her heart she knew that Callum would return for her, eventually, when she herself was ready to step into the Spirit Realm. One day, as the north wind blew through the open attic window, she feels a change within her, and the need to do something to help herself step out of the debilitating grief. So Grace prays, asking God to send her some help, to give her a purpose to continue living. She then falls asleep at the desk, as the daylight fades. Lucy had come up with her evening meal and finding her asleep, places the tray on the sea chest, gently wrapps the woollen shawl around Grace’s shoulders and snuffed out the candle. As the full moon rises above the treetops whilst she continues to sleep, something magical begins to happen. By the light of the bright moon ‘They’ come. Like sparkles of fairy dust, ‘They’ came in through The Attic window and dance around the room, filling it with laughter. The mischievous fairy-like sprites brush the walls with Celestial paint, transforming the room, activating it as a portal beyond time and space, a doorway into the next world. The room begins to fill with Spirit People, one of which is Callum. He stands by his beloved wife, whilst she slept at the desk, captivated by her vibrant aura ‘Grace by name, Grace by nature’, he whispers. The night air was warm, being midsummer – the eve of the Summer Solstice. Through the open window the warm breeze gently catches a few loose strands of her hair. Callum watches on, taken by the profound beauty of his wife. Oh how he has missed her…
Meanwhile the mischievous fairy-like creatures continue to caste magic around the room, bringing it to life, bringing renewed life to Grace. They are preparing the room as a place where the Spirit People can come and visit, to share their stories, which will in turn help them to be free and move on, or understand why they may need to remain in this World Between Worlds – as Guardian Angels for their loved ones in the Physical World. Grace was about to experience a reality previously invisible to her and to most of those living in the Physical World.
Callum reaches over, not wanting to disturb his wife and carefully picks up the ink pen and writes a message for her on the page of paper partially tucked under where her head is resting in the crook of her arm. In hand writing that is so typically his, he writes three simple words…
Write to me!
Their job now completed, it was time for the magical visitors to leave and Callum must go with them. He brushes the hair back from Grace’s face and gently kisses her cheek before leaving, stirring her from a deep sleep. Grace smiles, with thoughts of Callum she drifts in and out of consciousness. As the stars in the night sky begin to fade and the light on the horizon ignites the coming day with a brilliant red-orange sky heralding in a new day. The temperature drops just before the bright sun light announces the arrival of dawn. The coolness is enough to wake Grace. Stirring, she sits up and pulls her woollen shawl tightly around her shoulders, savouring the delightful, lingering sensation of Callum’s kiss.
As she looks around the room, taking a moment to wake up, Grace notices a difference in the atmosphere here. Is it just her sleepy eyes, or is the chandelier sparkling just that little bit more? Catching the rays of the rising sun, it caste rainbows around the room, up the walls and across the ceiling. Is that laughter she can hear? It all made her smile. Today was a new day and she felt it. For the first time since Callum had passed over, Grace felt excited. As she looks out the window at the beautiful sunrise, something catches her attention. Out the corner of her eye she sees something recognisably well known to her – Callum’s handwriting! It is unmistakably his! It says three simple words…
Write to me!
How Grace had missed writing to him when he was away at sea! From inside the drawer in the writing bureau, she takes out a fresh piece of writing paper and refills her ink well. Patting the paper fondly she whispers to the room, “I’ll be back soon!” Grace walks downstairs to the kitchen, lights the wood stove, places the kettle on top and begins to prepare some breakfast. Wouldn’t it be nice to cook breakfast for Lucy and Patrick! They have taken such good care of her, even when Callum was alive. They have been so patient with her over this past year, taking care of the management of the household and gardens. Today she wants to celebrate with them, for she has grieved long enough. Today was the first anniversary of Callum’s passing, such perfect timing.
Molly’s eyes opened suddenly, her pupils dilating as they adjusted to the light in the room. Her breathing heavy with excitement by what she had just seen, she wanted to get it down in writing before the memory faded. Sitting up she looks around the room, slightly confused by the dream. At the desk she opens the laptop and rubbed her hands together eagerly. “Thanks Grace!” she said out aloud, but found she was now alone in the room, leaving her to wonder if it had all been just a dream…..