Just as they had finished breakfast, there was a knock at the door. It was Sam delivering the desk. Molly left them to it and cleaned up the breakfast dishes. After Sam had left she went upstairs with Will to her new office.
“What do you think?” Will asked her.
“I love it! It’s perfect.” Now positioned beneath the window sill was an antique oak writing desk and a sweet little wooden chair. She didn’t know at the time, who the desk originally belonged to. Will left her to organise her new space and went downstairs to get on with his own projects. “See you for lunch?” he asked over his shoulder, to which Molly replied, “Oh yes please.”
Smiling, she sat at the desk, staring out the window, and let her mind drift….
“Do you like my desk?” The voice startled her. Looking around, the room was empty. It was a woman’s voice. Was it Grace Simpson, or Molly’s active imagination creating things again?
The voice was slightly mocking. “Well…Do you like my desk?” The voice asked again, slightly more insistent for an answer.
“Yes, yes, I do. Thank you.” Molly replied out aloud.
“You are most welcome. This too was my favourite place to write. The view is inspiring don’t you think?” The voice asked her.
“Yes. The view is peaceful.” Molly said, again out aloud. The voice sounded so real, as if there were someone actually in the room with her.
“I know you can hear me, and I know you will be able to see me, when the time is right.” The voice was rich and strong, deep but undeniably feminine.
Molly sat in the chair listening, but there was nothing more. Returning her gaze out the window, she contemplated the task ahead, of interviewing the staff of The Little Book Publishing Company. Her thoughts turned to Annabella and Grace, and then her phone rang. It was Annabelle!
“Hey Baybee!” Annabelle’s voice chirped cheerfully over the phone. “Thought I’d ring and check in. How you doing?”
“Hi Lovely. Really good. Oh Annabelle, this house is a-mazing and oh wow, you would love new little office space. Wait on, I’ll switch to video.”
The girls chatted on, Molly giving Anna a detailed description of the past couple of days.
“And how about you?”Molly finished off, handing the conversation over to Anna. “What have you been up to?”
“Well, the house is good, although I have not yet seen or heard Grace, or Lucy or Patrick. I have weeded all of the gardens, which seemed really easy to do. I did feel like I wasn’t alone out there. Have had quite a few readings on Skype, which has been fun. And the weirdest dreams…of being in The Attic with Grace, just hanging out and talking. Lucy would serve us tea or a meal up there, and I could see out the window where Patrick was working in the garden. Sometimes he would look up at me and wink, to let me know he could see me too. But during the day? Nothing.”
“Are you meditating?” Asked Molly.
“Nah. Haven’t done that for years. You know me, can’t sit still.” Anna replied.
“That’s going to have to change Anna, if you want to communicate with the others during the day. Hey, I can help, let’s mediate at the same time. First thing in the morning tomorrow, before breakfast, say 7am. Make a cup of tea and go up to The Attic. Sit wherever you are comfortable and just focus on your breathing. I will too and see if I can visit you.”
“Visit me? What do you mean girl?” Anna asked slightly confused.
“When we were on the road trip, I would start writing to Grace and then meditate and find myself in The Attic room at home with her.”
“Whoa! Whaat?” Anna asked, her voice rising an octave or two. “You mean like time travel or bilocation?”
“Yeah, something like that, I guess” Molly replied. “Sooo, write to Grace, do it tonight and see what happens.”
“Write what?” Anna asked.
“Anything, just start it as ‘Dear Grace’. Tell her about your day, or how you want to connect with her. Or that you might need her help to meditate.”
“Yeah, ok, I can do that.”
“Mol? Molleee?” Will called up the stairs. “You talking to ghosts again?”
Molly giggled. “Prince Charming is calling. See you in the morning, have your cup of tea ready at 7am in The Attic! Ciao Bella!”
“Bye Molly. I will write to Grace tonight,” Anna concluded.
Will came into the room and stood behind Molly in the chair, wrapping his arms around her for a cuddle and kissing her neck. “So was it ghosts or real people?” He asked.
“Ah, how is our Bella? All’s well?”
“Yep. We are going to do a shared meditation tomorrow at 7am. She has not been able to see Grace or any of the others, unless she is asleep…..” Molly stood up and continued the conversation as they walked downstairs to the kitchen to make some lunch.
That night, before going to sleep, Annabelle went up to The Attic and sat in the captain’s chair. She lit a candle and placed it on the top of the bureau, opened the drawer below and took out the ink pen, and a sheet of paper. It had been a long time since she had used one of these, probably when she was in high school. Twirling the pen between her finger and thumb, she tried to remember how to use it. Surprisingly, the pen flowed smoothly with perfect script writing, it was fun! On this sheet she practiced, getting used to the feel of the pen on the paper. Then she got out a fresh piece of paper and started writing…
Molly suggested I write to you. It feels a little odd, but I will give it a go any way.
She sat and stared out the window, but all she could see was the reflection of herself and the candle flame against the darkness of night outside.
Questions. Molly had suggested asking questions.
Grace, why can’t I see you?
Feeling frustrated, she put the pen down and closed her eyes and said out aloud, “How do I meditate again. Oh god, its been so long…..breathe Anna, just breathe, or count your breaths or something like that…breathing in and breathing out….” She did this several times before becoming bored and restless, having a short attention span and a dislike for sitting still. Opening her eyes, she was taken by surprise because the face she now saw in the reflection of the window, was not hers. The face smiled back at her and then vanished. When she looked down at the paper where she had been writing, she saw a message written in someone else handwriting.
“Mediate and write to me!”
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!!” Anna shrieked leaping up out to the chair and dancing around. “Grace, Grace, is that you? Oh it must be you! The candle flickered, almost going out and then lit back up again, the flame calm and still. She took that to be a yes.