Blast from the Past. Cathy Hopkins

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Название Blast from the Past
Автор произведения Cathy Hopkins
Жанр Зарубежный юмор
Серия
Издательство Зарубежный юмор
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008289270



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‘No. Not that.’

      ‘Good,’ she said. ‘The past has gone, the future is yet to be written; only the present is real.’

      ‘True,’ I said as there was a knock at the door and a waiter brought in a silver tray with tea.

      After he’d gone, Saranya Ji poured and handed me a cup, then we sat in silence for a while which I found awkward. I didn’t know where to look, so I stared at the carpet. I am not going to give anything away, I told myself.

      Finally Saranya Ji began to speak. ‘I feel sadness in you, Bea, and resistance. I feel scepticism, but this will change.’

      Doubt it, I thought, and as for appearing sad or resistant, that could apply to most of the population. Who hasn’t got to the age of fifty without a few knocks?

      ‘Why are you here?’ she asked.

      ‘We’re on holiday—’

      ‘No, I mean here today, with me.’

      ‘My friend Marcia, the gift, I couldn’t refuse. I … there’s nothing I want to know specifically.’

      Saranya Ji sighed and then nodded to herself, as if accepting that I wasn’t going to blurt out my whole life. ‘OK. Give me your hands,’ she instructed. I held my hands out and she took them in hers, turned them palm upwards and studied them. She closed her eyes as if tuning in to me, then opened her eyes and let go of my hands.

      ‘You have known pain with love in this lifetime, no?’ she asked.

      ‘I … I …’ I blustered. ‘I’ve had good relationships and some not so good, probably like everyone my age.’ I was about to tell her more, then remembered that I’d resolved not to give anything away.

      ‘I mean the joy of love and contentment that comes from meeting your equal and soulmate,’ said Saranya Ji. She looked at me with such compassion that I felt my eyes well with tears. It was as if she knew, she understood how empty my life felt, but that couldn’t be. I’d known her five minutes and some people I’d spent a lifetime with had no idea about what went on in my head and my heart. I had a good public mask of being cheerful, positive, not needing anyone. Only friends like Marcia, Pete, Heather and Stuart knew what went on behind the act. I blinked the tears away. Ridiculous. What was wrong with me? And what was happening here? Maybe Marcia had been filling her in on my past, or Pete? I’ll kill them when I get out of here, I thought. Marcia saw my present lack of love life as her private mission, and was forever trying to pair me off with inappropriate single men.

      ‘You have travelled far through time to be here,’ said Saranya Ji.

      ‘True,’ I said again. ‘It was a long flight from England and we go back tomorrow.’

      ‘No. Not in India, I mean in this body you call Bea. What I want to talk to you about is your life as Bea.’

      ‘OK.’

      ‘What you must understand, Bea, is that in life, first comes destiny, next comes free will. Understand? How you react to what happens to you.’

      I nodded. ‘I understand.’

      ‘Our soul has many lessons to learn on this journey. You have had many lives, many incarnations, gathering knowledge and experience to bring you here today in this lifetime as Bea. So far this time, you have not found lasting love, but it is there as your destiny, you could know the joy of finding your true companion.’

      Me and a thousand others, I thought, and wondered how many people she’d fed the same lines.

      She reached across, took my hands in hers again and closed her eyes. Her touch was soft and warm and it felt soothing. She opened her eyes again and continued, ‘There is a reason for this and that is because you have it imprinted in your unconscious mind that lasting love is not for those such as you; for you it brings pain, that people you love, they leave you, and you are destined to be alone. In your attempt to go beyond this and not to get hurt further, you have repeated a pattern. You recreate the familiar in your relationships so you can think, yes, it is true, love hurts, no point. I am better off alone. I don’t need anyone.’

      Whoa, I thought, steady on. It was true, I did believe that love brought pain and that people leave, because so far that had been my experience, but imprinted on my unconscious mind so that I was creating it? I did not like what I was hearing. I glanced at the door and wondered whether to end the session there and then, but another part of me was fascinated as to what else she had to say. I stayed where I was. Let’s hear what baloney she comes out with next, I told myself. I can have a laugh about it later with Pete and Marcia.

      ‘I see a man, your soulmate. You have been together many times in many lives. It is a great love, powerful, and each time brought you a joy that you have not come close to in this life. He was and is your true love and you brought out the best of each other’s nature. This was good. You encouraged each other to be open to learn, you challenged each other. Ah …’ she paused then continued with confidence. ‘Here it is. In your last life, you were Grace Harris. You worked as a dressmaker in London, England. You were to be married but … something happened to end that love.’

      Saranya Ji was quiet for a few moments, and her head tilted as though she was listening to someone in the room, to her right, someone I couldn’t see. She nodded. ‘Ah, this could be where the pattern of belief that you carry now began. You were to be married but it was the war, Second World War. He had to go and fight but, oh … his life was interrupted. He didn’t return. You were heartbroken. This loss caused you great pain because you believed you would have a whole life together in the future. This belief that love hurts went deep, deep into you, and you have carried this with you, the idea that a smooth love affair happens to other people but you lose those whom you truly love. This has made you cautious to give your heart and so you prefer to choose men who are wrong for you so, if they leave, it doesn’t matter so much and if you do begin to care, you push them away so they cannot get too close and wound you.’

      I almost laughed out loud. Grace Harris? A soldier killed in action? What a load of tosh. She’d probably seen an old war movie recently and was repeating the storyline back to me.

      ‘What I want to tell you is that, as you are back in this lifetime, so is he. Like you, he has travelled far through many dimensions to be here. In this life, you must find him if you are to be truly happy. This is important, Bea. You are meant to be together. You must find him, recognize and let him in, if you are ever to know the joy of love.’

      The atmosphere in the room felt charged and I felt a shiver go up my spine, but I was not going to be taken in. ‘Was he by any chance tall, dark and handsome?’

      Saranya Ji looked directly at me. ‘You are cynical, Bea. Don’t be, it doesn’t suit you. It is a wall to protect yourself and is not your true nature. You have an open and loving spirit. You must learn to let go of your distrust if you are to progress. Yes, you may scoff at what you hear – many do when they hear a truth, and doubt me, but I simply tell what I see. It is always your choice to make of it what you will, but this man from your past who was …’ She listened to her right again, ‘He was known as Billy Jackson, he is your destiny. You can believe me and try and find him and who he is now in this life, or dismiss what I say and drift from one meaningless love affair to another, never finding the true contentment and companionship that your soul could know. Or you can immerse yourself in your work as you have done, so busy that no one knows that you are hiding. People see success but you are alone and …’ She stopped and looked at me with tenderness, ‘I don’t think so happy with this, yes?’

      You’re beginning to freak me out, I thought as I looked away.

      ‘Have you any questions?’ Saranya Ji asked.

      ‘There are millions of men on the planet, in different countries, how would I know him?’

      ‘Recognition, there will be familiarity. A sense of, ah there you are. Have you ever met anyone and thought, where do I know you from? Yet you have never