Little Eden Read online

  “Why are psychic messages always so vague?” Robert pondered.

  “I don’t really know why that should be,” Sophie mused. “We have to use our own minds as the receiver, and we don’t always have fibre-optic or broadband.”

  “Ah! Ha!” Jack exclaimed. “You just said it is all in your mind!”

  “Well, of course it is!” Sophie replied. “It’s like having a very sensitive radio receiver in the mind. The receiver is our pineal gland which triggers our psychic brain, and it can pick up different stations from the spirit realms. But it’s not fool proof technology!”

  “I remember Alienor said, Robert must learn to use his sword, and then you said that you had a sword in your hand,” Lucy interjected, trying to refocus the conversation again.

  “The message doesn’t tell us much really, does it?” Robert sighed.

  “Wait!” Sophie said, “I am sure she said the dark forces were gathering in greed.”

  “Well, they are certainly doing that!” Robert replied angrily. “All I know is that my ancestor from 600AD comes back from the dead, she turns out to be the same soul as Lilly, and that I have to find my sword and beware dark forces gathering in greed because its 2012!”

  “Seems straight forward to me!” Jack said suddenly. “Alienor was warning you about Jennifer and Collins’ plan to sell Little Eden, and you have to kill them both to stop them!”

  “This isn’t the Middle Ages,” Robert replied. “I can’t put them in the Tower and cut off their heads!”

  “More’s the pity! It would be so much simpler!” Jack smiled.

  “What do you know about the history of Alienor already, Robert?” Sophie asked him. “Maybe the rest of the information lies in these books and papers, and she just wanted to pique your interest enough to get you to investigate further?”

  “Well that isn’t a bad theory!” Lucy agreed. “I mean, who’s to say that the spirit world has to tell us everything? Maybe, it’s just a prompt sometimes. A sign post. Not the full story.”

  “Lancelot always says: We are the hands of God; without our hands, nothing can be done,” Sophie said. “I have usually found that we don’t get any more information until we start participating.”

  “I’ve found out bits and pieces about Alienor this afternoon, with the help of Mr T,” Robert told them.

  This is what he recounted to his friends about her:

  “Alienor was a noble woman of the Bartholomew family from Poitiers, France. The urban myth goes that she was supposed to marry a Merovingian prince but ran away to England to escape being prostituted out by her family. She was a Virgin Queen, in the sense that she had her own fortune and was royal in her own right. When she got here to England, she was granted this piece of land by her cousin, Queen Bertha of Kent, to set up a Christian abbey…”

  Jack put the pizzas on the coffee table and Robert helped himself to a slice and then continued…

  ...“Apparently, the land was an ancient, sacred, pagan site of healing. The power of the water here was famous throughout Europe. Once Alienor took ownership of the area it became a mile square of sanctuary land. That stone seat you see in the Abbey, near the altar, is a Freidstool, and anyone sitting on it was supposed to get a fair and open trial; even the King couldn’t overrule the justice of the Freidstool. Little Eden has remained politically neutral ever since, even through the period of Danelaw. When Alienor died in 641, records show that Little Eden passed to her cousin, Constance, and from then on, female cousins or nieces kept developing the place as a sanctuary for healing, charity and learning, until one of her descendants married and had children. Robert Bartholemew married Maria D’Aquataine and started a family estate here. That’s when you get the start of the Little Eden we know today.”

  “So, to Alienor, Little Eden must be like her baby, and is a sacred site. No wonder she has come through now! She wouldn’t want you to sell it. She must be trying to get you to save it,” Sophie said.

  “But, who is Melanie?” Jack asked. “What does she have to do with anything? Is she a Bartlett-Hart?”

  “Remember, Melanie is Jennifer from a past life!” Sophie reminded him.

  “But, Melanie is dead and buried,” Jack said.

  “That doesn’t make any difference,” Sophie replied. “We are all motivated by our past actions and beliefs - for good or bad. Jennifer is a vindictive and greedy cow for a reason. Maybe the dislike of Little Eden stems from when she was Melanie?”

  Robert shrugged. He just could not equate his mother with what she was doing. He knew she was not the most loving or the most generous, or even the most considerate of people, but she was his mother and he wanted to think the best of her.

  “Melanie must have come back from the dead to help Jennifer destroy Little Eden. It may even be Melanie who put the idea in Jennifer’s (well, her own) head in the first place!” Sophie suggested. “If we could find out more about what happened to Melanie in her lifetime, maybe we can stop her. Past lives carry karma through the centuries and feed all sorts of present actions and ideas. When a past life is cleared of its emotional karma, it is usually rendered harmless.”

  “You mean like getting closure on something that happened lifetimes ago?” Jack asked.

  “Exactly!” Sophie agreed.

  “How’s that even work?” Jack asked - then wished he hadn’t.

  “We are not just a human body made of static physical cells,” Sophie explained. “We are an ever changing ball of consciousness that expresses itself through a physical body. Our DNA programming goes back even as far as Adam and Eve. We are human, but we are also multi-dimensional. It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand any more right now.”

  “No, I don’t suppose I would, old girl,” Jack said, quite happy not to hurt his brain again.

  “Why don’t we look through these documents and see if we can find any reference to a Melanie, and see if that triggers some more information?” Lucy suggested, aware they were getting off track again.

  “It’s a good a place to start as any!” Robert replied.

  They all looked through the books and papers, eating pizza and drinking homemade wine.

  Nearly an hour went by before Sophie said triumphantly, “I think I may have found Melanie!” She handed Robert a faded and yellowed scrap of paper that had been folded inside another letter. The note read:

  My own darling Bobby

  Some news has reached me at which I am greatly distressed. I am writing to you urgently, eager for your reply by return. The Colonel tells me you are to marry Captain Shaftsbury’s ward, Miss Melanie Humphreys. This I cannot believe to be the truth. Reply at once, my heart will not be still until you yourself deny this pernicious rumour.

  It wasn’t signed.

  “Gosh! So, there is a Melanie in the family after all!” Robert said, turning the note over, but there was nothing else written on it. “A Melanie Humphreys, ward of Captain Shaftsbury. There isn’t a date though.”

  Mr T grinned and pulled at Robert’s sleeve. He handed Robert a ledger he had put down about half an hour ago, but now rooted out again from under his pile of documents. Robert read out loud the relevant bit:

  “Aug 4th, 1870. Received from Captain Edmond Shaftsbury the sum of twenty thousand pounds. Due dowry of Miss Humphreys…then in brackets it says…(Humphreys B.H dpt 1878 with issue 3 Aus.)”

  “Was she married to that chap in the crypt, Bobby?” Jack asked. “I remember him. He’s the one who had all those wives and mistresses buried with him. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had a secret wife as well. He was certainly one for the ladies!”

  “Did Melanie die in 1878?” Lucy asked. “I wonder why she wasn’t mentioned on the tomb with Bobby and his other wives?”

  “Maybe she died after him?” Jack suggested.

  “No, Bobby died in 1879,” Robert said.

  “Wai
t!” Sophie exclaimed. “I found something a minute ago that had the dpt on it! I don’t think it means deceased. It means deported! Look!” She held up a document on which was written:

  Samuel Smith, Hall Boy, Little Eden, dpt to colonies for theft, 13th day of October, the year of our Lord, 1866

  “No wonder Melanie wasn’t mentioned in the family tree or in the crypt!” Lucy said. “She must have done something pretty bad to be deported - quite the scandal in the family!”

  Robert shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. As far as the official records go, Bobby’s last wife was Charlotte and she died of syphilis. He eventually died of it himself.”

  “I don’t see how knowing about Melanie and Bobby’s antics in the bedroom will help us save Little Eden?” Jack asked. “What does all this tell us?”

  “It means the woman who ran through you in the crypt might have had syphilis!” Lucy laughed. “Let’s hope it’s not catching!”

  “Very funny!” Jack responded.

  “But, if Melanie died in the colony of Australia, which we assume she did, and she isn’t buried in the crypt, why is her spirit here in Little Eden and not wandering about somewhere on the Gold Coast?” Lucy asked.

  “And, I don’t understand how Robert’s mother, Jennifer, can be alive and in spirit at the same time!” Jack said.

  “I told you already!” Sophie replied. “Our consciousness is not static! Time and space are not an issue.”

  Jack sighed. “Never mind. Don’t bamboozle me again Sophie!”

  “Basically, all we need to know right now, is that Melanie must be have been really pissed at the B.H family in 1878, and she has reincarnated as Jennifer in this lifetime, so that she can get her own back for being deported,” Sophie said. “I suppose selling Little Eden is the ultimate revenge.”

  “Well, they say revenge is a dish best served cold, but waiting over a hundred years and several lifetimes - that’s positively frigid!” Robert said, half smiling.

  “But, why now?” Lucy asked.

  “I suppose it might have something to do with 2012.” Sophie mused. “If we are going to stop Jennifer and Melanie we need to deactivate that past life and separate them from themselves - if that makes sense!”

  Jack laughed. “You mean Jennifer is a bad influence on herself?”

  Robert was not so amused. “How do we neutralise Melanie?” he asked.

  “We could use past life regression, but I don’t think Jennifer would agree to that!” Sophie replied. “But, if we could research what happened, maybe we can dispel the karmic energy.”

  “You mean if we find out what really happened to Melanie, maybe we can help her to let go of the past?” Lucy suggested.

  “Precisely!” Sophie replied. “If Melanie was deported and was actually innocent, we can give her some justice, and then perhaps, she will rest in peace and leave us all alone.”

  “What if she is guilty of something?” Jack asked. “Wouldn’t it be opening a can of worms to go digging?”

  Sophie shrugged. “It might. But it’s a risk we need to take. I suggest you get onto Silvi Swan in the morning, Robbie, and book yourself a past life regression session. You, being a blood relative means that you will carry the ancestral history in your DNA. You’ll be able to recall what happened to Bobby - with a little expert help!”

  That’s possible?” Jack asked. “Isn’t that time travel?”

  Sophie shrugged. “Yeah, sure! We can all time travel - we can’t take our physical body with us, but we can go anywhere with our mind.”

  “So, you are going to travel back in time to see what happened to this Melanie, in the hope that you can stop Jennifer wanting to sell Little Eden?”

  “That sounds about right!” Lucy nodded.

  “We must not let Melanie’s spirit out of that crypt!” Sophie said. “Until we can deactivate them both, it’ll be best if we can contain her spirit in there.”

  Robert looked rather alarmed. “Er…I think Melanie’s spirit might have vacated the crypt already.”

  Sophie looked at him in surprise.

  “When I was in the crypt this morning, Melanie showed up and she ran through the wall and disappeared. I didn’t close the portals down. I forgot!”

  Sophie sighed and shook her head. “That’s just what we need! Double trouble!”

  Chapter 10

  ~ * ~

  Robert was reluctant to return home after being with his friends, but it was now the early hours of the morning, and he knew he had to go at some point. He walked back to Bartlett Crescent under the ever-falling flakes of snow, which were now becoming more like sleet. When he came close to his house, he could see a light on, on the ground floor, although his mother’s room was in darkness on the third. He entered as quietly as he could, but he was met by a surprise in the hallway.

  Shilty Cunningham stood by the door into the snug. She was wearing a deep cut, electric blue satin, evening gown and was holding a martini in her hand; she slid the olive seductively off its cocktail stick.

  “What are you doing here?” Robert asked impolitely, as he shook the wet snow from his trousers.

  “Well!” Shilty laughed. “That’s a nice greeting I get - especially considering earlier!”

  “Sorry,” Robert whispered and ushered her into the snug. He glanced up the stairs to make sure his mother was nowhere to be seen, and then closed the door behind them. “It’s just, I didn’t expect to see you again, so soon.”

  He went to fix himself a drink. “I was worried about you!” Shilty told him. She took the decanter off him and handed him a brandy from the warming tray instead.

  “Why have you come here, Shilty?”

  “I told you,” she smiled. “I was worried about you!” She sat down on one of the chairs, letting her dress fall a little from her shoulders. She looked up at Robert with wide eyes, but she could see he was not being very responsive to her seduction technique. “And I wanted to know what had happened this morning,” she added. “After all, it’s not every day your ex turns up and shags your brains out before you even have chance to close the front door, now is it?”

  Robert looked embarrassed, but Shilty was never embarrassed about anything, and continued to talk. “I’ve been having a little chat with Collins. He tells me you left this morning’s meeting without a word and all he wanted was…”

  “F**k, Shilty!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to talk about it! Not with you anyway.” He rested his hand on the mantelpiece and stared into the fire.

  Shilty looked hurt and he saw the expression on her face. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” he said. “It’s just…it’s a family matter…and I shouldn’t have come over to yours this morning. I’m sorry! It was a mistake.”

  “That’s just the kind of thing a girl likes to hear,” Shilty replied. She was smiling, which disconcerted Robert slightly. “Well, I’m here now and I don’t fancy going out in that snow again tonight, so why don’t you invite me to stay? I’ll be a married woman soon and that means you can never have me again!” Shilty downed her martini and put her arms around him. Her lips were soft and her body was enticingly warm. Robert was tired. He really couldn’t be bothered to say no to her. He let her lead him, by the hand, up the stairs.

  ~ * ~

  Shilty had had a little chat with Collins before Robert had gotten home, just as she said she had; only, she had left out some minor details! She had been greeted at the door by Collins, who was staying over on the orders of his mother. Mrs Bartlett-Hart had been in a ‘frightful state’ all day. Varsity was already in bed, having caught the same headache as Jennifer, so Collins had lounged away the rest of his evening in the snug; enjoying himself by making various cocktails and reading the newspapers.

  “Well! Hello!” he exclaimed, as he opened the front door. “If it isn’t Miss Shilty Cunningham. What a lovely surprise. Co
me in! Come in! Robert isn’t here. Come to think of it, we don’t know where the f**k he is!” Collins laughed. He took her coat, revealing her slinky dress from under the dark fur. He looked longingly at her pert round bottom that danced as she walked, smoothly outlined under its satin sheath. Her perfume was intoxicating and Collins wanted her to stay a while, for his own amusement. “Cocktail?” he asked her.

  “Robbie came over to mine earlier,” Shilty told him, taking Collin’s martini out of his hand. “I’ll have this one,” she said, smiling. “He was in a strange mood. Not that I minded.”

  Collins looked her up and down as he made himself and her another drink. He had always liked Shilty Cunningham and been rather envious of Robert. Collins had picked up his wife, Varsity, off the New York catwalk two years ago. She was considered one of the most beautiful women in the world (by the media), and Collins had wanted her; so, he got her. But Varsity lacked the curves and reckless bounciness of Shilty Cunningham. Shilty was buxom and bubbly, and there was nothing she liked better than to flaunt it! She never wore more than she had to and was proud of her inner, and indeed her outer, goddess.

  “Can you stop staring at my breasts, Collins, and tell me what is wrong with Robert?” Shilty pouted.

  “If you don’t want men to window shop - you shouldn’t put them on display!” Collins laughed.

  “They are my breasts and I can do what I want with them!” Shilty replied, standing sexily by the fire place.

  “I can think of a lot of things I would want you to do with them!” Collins grinned.

  Shilty giggled and put her hand on her hip in mock annoyance. “Why, Mr Bartlett-Hart, are you trying to seduce me?”

  “Perhaps I am!” Collins confessed, gently brushing back her long dark hair to reveal her bare shoulder. He stood so close, as to almost kiss her. “How about an exchange?” he suggested.

  “An exchange?” Shilty replied. She knew that glint in Collin’s eye. She knew it, because she had it too!