That first initial day of separation was always difficult for both of them. A little more so for Molly than Will, as he had work and a travel schedule to focus on. This was the first time she would be alone in the house, not that she was scared of being there on her own. Rather there was a curiosity as to what may develop with Grace Forrest.
Not far from the airport was a cafe familiar to Molly. She often stopped here when she used to travel from their home at Paraparaumu to visit Will some weekends, before they were married. The staff were like friends and Molly had much to share with them. It was nice to catchup with the girls about their new home, to have a little comfort food and a hug from friends to help that feeling of physical separation dissipate. Bursting into tears as Maggie brought Molly’s cup of coffee over to the table, it was too soon to even think about Will being away. Especially after what had been happening for them over the last month. Maggie looked at her warmly, placed her arm around Molly’s shoulders, gave her a squeeze and said, “Hmmm…must be Day 1?” to which Molly nodded and sniffed back the tears. “Chocolate Brownie or Cinnamon Swirl?” Molly just looked at her through sad, tearful eyes and without saying another wordMaggie got her a slice of Chocolate Brownie. Maggie made a coffee for herself and sat down with Molly. So much had happened since Molly had last visited. She shared with Maggie everything leading up to moving into their new home and how wonderful it all had been. But she held back on anything to do with Grace, not quite sure how to explain this to anyone other than Will. When her emotions had settled and having found the bottom of her coffee cup, Molly knew it was time to go home.
The drive back to Kohutu Bay gave her time to contemplate. She and Will had an uncanny relationship and once the ‘missing-ness’ of the first day had passed, they still felt very close, despite the physical distance between them. Video calls and text messages helped, but it was something more to it than that, a sense of a continual connection, beyond the physical. ‘Soul Stuff’ Will called it. The rest of the drive seemed to take forever, feeling the empty seat beside her, Molly noticed every bend, tree, signpost. However when she turned the car into the tree-lined driveway of ‘The Muse’ she felt relieved, even uplifted. She did not feel as lonely as when Will had last gone overseas, when they were living in the cottage at Paraparaumu. As Molly drove slowly past the front of the house, there it was again! She was sure she had caught a glimpse of Grace Forrest in the window, or was she just being hopeful? Opening the back door, she decided to go straight upstairs and start writing, it always helped to keep her mind busy on Day 1. Molly put the kettle on to make a pot of tea and wandered through the house, to shake off the emptiness she had been anticipating. But to her surprise, the empty feeling was not there. Now, she had a moment to take in what they had achieved since moving into the house. Each room had developed its own character. The living room, big enough to provide space for Will’s drawing board, easel and desk without cramping the lounge area too much, was bathed in morning sunlight. A Piwakawaka danced on the windowsill, reminding her that she was not alone at all. The whistling kettle brought her back to the kitchen. With a full teapot, jug of milk, two cups and saucers on a tray, she made her way up the stairs to what she affectionately now called The Attic.
Walking into the room, the last of the late morning sun caught the top of the desk, lighting up the honey coloured kauri timber with a warm welcoming glow. Molly looked out at the garden. Smiling, she placed the tray on the old sea chest, opened the window above the desk and sat down in one of the armchairs. “Grace?” she asked out aloud. “Grace? Are you here?” A warm breeze suddenly blew through The Attic window and the velvet drapes that hung either side of it, rippled. She took the timing of this as a ‘yes’.
“Tea Grace? I brought an extra cup for you.” The breeze picked up a page of writing paper off the desk and it floated gently to the floor by Molly’s feet.
“Okay, okay! I know…Write!” she laughed.
For the rest of the day and late into the night, Molly wrote to Grace, page after page after page. She had found that the laptop sat perfectly on the leather desktop insert, the height just right for her to sit comfortably in the captain’s chair. She had developed a technique where by meditating before she began her work, she was able to receive information directly from Grace through her writing. Some books referred to this as automatic writing. Many years ago Molly had found an exercise in a creative writing book, where it suggested to allow half an hour to write whatever comes into your mind, all the silly thoughts that one may pass off as junk begin to form a more philosophical conversation and the wisdom of your higher self comes through the writing. Molly loved this kind of writing and had numerous journals written in this way. Several years ago, on asking, she had been given a name for this invisible wise being, her guardian angel, it had been Grace! This level of communication had diminished more recently what with being so busy with work. She had fallen out of the practice of meditating and journal writing and had forgotten this piece of information. This memory surprised her, and the realisation of what seemed to be unfolding sent goosebumps down her arms. Was this purely a coincidence or could there possibly be any connection between these two Graces?
“So you’ve finally remembered!” Grace laughed at her, making her first strong audible communication.
“Grace?” Molly called out surprised. “Oh my god, it is you! How could this be? How could you be both, or the same? It is you that I knew as a child! It is you that has helped with my readings! It is you whom I used to write to? How can this be? Oh, now I don’t know which way is up or down,” Molly’s words came tumbling out like rapid fire, completely rattled by this realisation. Unable to contain her excitement and no longer holding it back, she danced around the room. “Come on Grace, you can show yourself now, I would so love to see you.”
“A little bit at a time Honey, makes the delicious moments last longer and the anticipation of what might be next tantalising, don’t you think?” Grace coaxed her.
“Yes!” Molly replied. This was the sense of humour she remembered from the her previous conversations through the automatic writings.
“Recall for a moment how you have desired a physical place just as you used to imagine, of what as a child called your Cubby House? And then remember the guided visualisation you learnt at the writers workshop…of walking up the stairs to a room that was just for you – your creative space? Did you not fondly refer to this as ‘Grace’s Office’? Well, here it is! Yes, there is my mysterious past connected with this house, and yes the Captain and I were ‘real’ and now we exist in the Spirit Realm which is just as real. That is another story, another part of my life. There is Magic here in ‘The Attic’. I do like that name for it. Is it not similar to that which you imagined as ‘Grace’s Office’? It is known here as the World Between Worlds.” Grace paused, letting this information sink in for Molly. “There is much for you to learn yet, and we shall make the most of the uninterrupted time whilst Will is away. I love him dearly, but he does distract you sometimes,” she smiled fondly.
“Will! Shit! Oops, sorry Grace…what is the time? Oh, I hope I haven’t missed his video call. Please excuse me,” Molly opened her laptop, clicked on the Skype App and typed in her password, hoping that she had not missed the time they had planned to chat. Will’s icon lit up and she heard that familiar tune of a Skype call. Molly chatted excitedly with Will while Grace watched on briefly over Molly’s shoulder, fascinated by this form of communication, and then vanished, leaving them alone.
It is well after midnight by the time Molly crawled into bed. Feeling hyped from the chat with Will but exhausted from the long day, she tossed and turned restlessly, unable to get comfortable. The bed felt too big and empty on her own. Sleep seemed out of reach, and Molly decided to go upstairs to The Attic, as she felt less alone up there. Taking with her a pillow and the duvet, she snuggled up on the daybed, the growing slither of moonlight of the waxing moon shon through the small paned window.
“Good night Grace,” she whispered. Grace watched Molly as she fell asleep, then sat in the captain’s chair and pulled out the journal from the drawer in the desk. She affectionately stroked it and sighed contentedly. It felt so good to have some presence in the Physical World again, but she must not let Molly know too much too soon. There were limitations of how she could interact with Molly. Grace’s Spiritual Agreement, her Sacred Contract, only permitted to visit in this room, The Attic. Others would accompany her, when Molly’s consciousness was ready to receive this kind of information. Meditation and creative visualisation had provided one way for Molly to access the space between Heaven and Earth, this World Between Worlds, which she had written about previously. She thought it was just her place of imagination and creativity, her safe place where she could explore uninhibited the limitless potential of these ‘unseen’ worlds so many humans call Imagination, creative visions or daydreams. But she was about to discover there was so much more to it. If only they knew the truth, of what lies beyond what is perceived as this Physical World or reality.
The Attic 