Each morning over the following days, Molly would return to the attic room after breakfast to write. Every time she climbed those stairs, she would feel a lightness, a tingle in her body. It was more than her imagination, she could feel it, as a physical sensation, of energy tingling through her body. Even Will felt more peaceful whenever he came upstairs to visit her, on the days when she had gotten lost in writing and not been down for a break. But there was something more to this room than Molly was able to put words together to describe, just yet. And the house, there was something special about the whole house. Each day it felt bright, cleaner, tidier, less tired. None of her doing as she had been busy in the room upstairs writing.
This morning, as she sat at the beautiful old kauri writing desk, in what had become her new favourite chair – the oak captain’s chair, she looked out over the garden where Will was working, weeding and uncovering all sorts of treasures in the plant kingdom. A little sadness swept across her heart, knowing that he would be returning to work soon.
Most of this could be done from home, but the demand for his work also took him overseas for several weeks at a time. She sighed deeply, wanting to stop the momentum of this little bit of sadness from growing. ‘Must be time for a pot of tea to shake this off,’ she thought. Standing up, her eyes still watching her beloved out the window, she felt the presence of Grace. A ripple of warmth ran through her body.
“I recall that feeling,” she whispered in Molly’s ear. Startled, Molly turned around to see a vision of Grace fading, leaving her with a growing sense of sadness. “Right! It is definitely time for tea,” she said out aloud. “Care for a cup?” she asked Grace out aloud. “I really would like to share a pot of tea with you one day,” she said to the room and smiled at the response which came, and one that she was beginning to get used to…the lock on the door clicked, and the door opened quietly, seemingly by itself.
Downstairs in the kitchen Molly enjoyed the ease of the new stove, which had been installed the day before. It was a combination of new and old, a great design and she loved it. On the left side the cooktop and oven were electric. On the right was a firebox which heated the stove top, a modern version of the wetback to heat the water, and an additional oven. The modern stove replicated the look of an old enamel wood stove, in the shade of pale green with tiny black and white flecks, with black handles and knobs. Above the stove top was a rack to heat plates. Will and Molly loved to cook and a good stove was an important feature in the kitchen. Not much else needed to be done immediately. She and Will had discussed the idea of a solar hot water system in addition to this for the summer months.
Over the past few days, Will had fixed the leak in the roof, although they were aware that it would need replacing in the near future. Little by little, in very subtle ways, the house was transforming effortlessly for them, as if it had a magic of its own. Will would think that Molly had done things, and Molly would think that Will had done things. But what was really going on behind the scenes was the awakening of the magic that this cottage was made of. Behind the scenes were a wonderful team that Molly was yet to meet. All the work she had done as a clairvoyant and tarot reader, had been in preparation for what she was about to experience.
The shrill whistle of the boiling kettle brought her awareness back from another daydream. Making tea and some sandwiches, she loaded up a tray and took it out into the garden where Will was still working. He was grateful for the break. The weather were getting hotter as the longer spring days blended into summer. There was a hint of sadness in Will also as he realised that he was to fly to Australia soon. But this reminded them both to enjoy each day together more and more. Molly had put down a picnic blanket so they could sit in the shade of a Japanese Maple, now covered in new growth in shades of bright green and pale pink, and enjoy each others company and lunch. Molly glanced around the garden, surprised at just how much Will had accomplished that morning. Will laid on his back, taking in what he had achieved with a sense of satisfaction and was amazed at what he has been able to do in such a short time, “I can’t believe just how easy it is to work in this garden, it almost feels like I have someone working with me. I have uncovered the remnants of old roses, forget-me-nots, alyssums, violets, lavenders, rosemary, mountain daisies, iris’s, clematis, clivia’s and others I am yet to name… I love being out here, the ideas just flow, but I must get on with preparing for this job next week. Time to clean up.” Molly gave him a hand to put the tools away in the barn, and they walked back into the coolness of the house and the work that was awaiting them both.
Molly paused at the bottom of the stairs. This time she felt a shift within her, and it grew stronger and stronger, more than something affecting her from the outside. It was so easy for her to write when up there, the ideas flowed and the hours passed quickly. Her desire to have more communication with Grace distracted her slightly before she began writing again.
“I know you are here, Grace. What do I need to do to improve our communication?” Molly asked out aloud.
She watched intrigued as the quill pen rose up and wrote two words…
Meditate
Write
Molly smiled and thought, ‘Hmm, meditation… that’s something I haven‘t done for a long while.’ Before meeting Will whilst at Art School she had also studied yoga and meditation. She followed a simple discipline of focussing on her breathing, of feeling the breath coming in and out of her body, or counting the breaths if her mind wandered too much. Over the years, this simple technique had allowed her mind to settle and perceive information that came to her from what she originally thought to be her imagination. But was it more than that? Meditation had also helped her as she learned to use the Tarot cards and then automatic writing, all becoming ‘tools of the trade’ as a clairvoyant, guiding her to the assistance requested through her readings. She decided to make this the first thing to do when coming up here each morning. ‘Best time to start is now!’ Molly thought as she got comfortable in the chair and closed her eyes, focussed on her breathing, she quickly felt herself drifting, light, weightless, relaxed, and at ease. And then she began to hear quiet voices. Concentrating on these, wanting to hear what they were saying, she caught snippets of words. She discovered that the moreshe relaxed, the more she was able to hear…”can she hear us? Can she see us? Can we visit her yet? Grace, can we come and play now?” “Soon, soon…let her get used to this… A little at a time…” Grace replied softly.
Molly was intrigued by the voices, but someone had decided that was enough for now, and the quill pen rolled to the floor, the sharp sound breaking the spell of the meditation. Molly opened her eyes, laughing, she picked up the pen, and reached for her laptop, placing it on the desk. Her thoughts came back to Grace, and she began to type….
Dear Grace,
I love coming up here to write, and I can feel you close by guiding me. In the past was it you that has helped me when things have been tough, when I had prayed for help?
She found the answers flowed easily through her fingers, the replies came immediately from Grace. Automatic writing was only something she had used as a writing exercise. This time she would feel the information coming to her and through her hands. Even the font changed automatically as she typed this dialogue with what she thought was her new friend.
“Yes Molly, and there is so much more to this room, as you are beginning to understand. Meditation will improve our communication, help prepare you for what is unfolding.”
Wow, this is great Grace. Will you keep writing back to me?
“Yes.”
Can we create a book together?
“That is my intention!” came the written reply.
Molly jumped up from the chair and excitedly danced around the room. “I love working in The Attic” she yelled at the top of her voice.
“The Attic indeed! It has never been referred to as that before. I like it!” Grace said out aloud to herself, as Molly had already left the room.
She ran down the stairs, along the hall and into the lounge room where Will was working. “I love you, I love you, I love you! And I love this house!” she exclaimed joyfully, twirling like a ballerina before collapsing onto the sofa with Will, kissing his face all over, wrapping her arms around his neck, she held him tight.
After returning the embrace, Will said, “There is one thing we need to discuss, something we have been a little distracted from by the move of house…” said Will with a serious look on his face. He was playing with her as usual, but the matter was of great importance. “My job.”
“Oh yes!” Molly replied excitedly.
“Let me help you with dinner and we can discuss it some more,” he said taking her by the hand, and leading her down the hall towards the kitchen. He put on some music and pulling her close, together they danced their way around the kitchen, kissing, laughing and enjoying this wonderful house they could now called Home. Will’s contract with an advertising company in Hamilton for more than the past two years, had expired. He had been working freelance month by month. He had also been doing a little part-time work since they had been married. He was interested in working in the publishing industry. In a short period of time had had built up a good reputation in his work as a graphic design artist, and also as a fine illustration artist. He was wanting to direct his focus to the fine arts and as an illustrator for more books, including Molly’s. He had recently been consigned by a publishing company in Wellington, having illustrated his first children’s book for them, they wanted more and so did he. Now that they had settled into their new home, he felt it was time to make the final decision and have one last business trip to sign off his contracts in person overseas, cutting ties with the company in Hamilton. Even though Wellington was further away, it was only a short flight and most o this work could be done at home.
“Will, I have been thinking about this journal of Grace’s…it would make a great novel. What do you think?” Molly asked as she chopped vegetables.
“Honey, that’s an awesome idea! Maybe I can design the cover for you? How much are you willing to pay, I’m not cheap!”
“I don’t do cheap Will Ferguson! I have never, ever, done cheap!” Molly laughed, she put down the knife, pulled his body tightly into hers and kissed him passionately. Oh how she loved to kiss him…
“Shall we continue making dinner, or shall I clear the table for another purpose…” Will suggested, holding her close, pressing his eager body into hers.
“Hmm…well…maybe dinner first…or…maybe not…” Molly replied between kisses, now more than a little distracted from the dinner preparations. Will proved his ability to multitask, as he pushed aside the ingredients for dinner and lifted Molly up onto the table, meanwhile not missing a moment of kissing her….
The Attic 