Secrets & Souls - prequel to The Soul Guide
Chapter 2

Bertram looked at the woman with the fiery red hair and wondered whether he would ever get used to her sudden appearance in his life.

It had been three months since she’d arrived. Three months since she’d transported him to that vast, white hall with just the touch of her hand. She had been like a summer storm, arriving on a scorching June day, whirling into his life, upending the way he viewed the world and what he understood to be true. The storm may have ebbed away, clearing the air around them and allowing a different kind of calm into their lives, but for Bertram, it had never left him. It was as though the storm had settled inside his own beating heart.

Now Clayhill was filled with Mellissa. Not just her things, although there were plenty of those dotted about the manor. It was her unique scent, like cherry blossoms in spring, that pervaded the space so completely. Not only that, although her scent was more than enough to contend with, he also felt her energy, her spirit about him. It didn’t matter where he found himself in the manor. She was with him always, as though she were in the room alongside him, even when she wasn’t. It was hard to explain, but it was true nonetheless.

After the initial buzz of their first encounter, their first few weeks together had been difficult. There were times when he had passed her bedroom and heard her muffled sobs. Whenever he tried to broach the reason for her distress, or ask about her life before, her lips would tighten and the openness she had shown him was swallowed into the days of silence that followed. Those days were the worst. In the end, he learnt not to ask any questions and before long a tentative friendship had formed between them.

Well, at least it had for her. For him, it felt more than that, more than friendship. He didn’t know if it was love, how could it be? They’d only known each other a matter of weeks. Whatever it was, it kept him up at night, then filled his dreams when he finally managed to sleep.

Thankfully, she appeared more at peace these days. He sat in the library with her now, studying the curve of her face as she devoured another book. The last of the evening’s light played across her features, illuminating that beautiful, fiery hair he so longed to touch. She was so lovely, unearthly even, like Dante’s painting of Lady Lilith. Every day she would take his breath away and the storm inside his heart would swirl and dance until he was giddy. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Like Bertram, Mellissa too loved to read. Most days he would find her curled up in the leather armchair, her feet tucked beneath her, lost in some story or other. Before her arrival, the library had been full of dusty, faded books, the air stale with mothballs and damp. Now, it was as though she had poured a piece of herself into every corner and crevice, filling the library with her light. The books were no longer faded and torn, as he’d remembered, instead shelf upon shelf of the most beautifully bound books stood tall and proud. The wooden floor glistened like polished glass, and the windows were clean and sparkling. The same was true of every room in the manor. When he asked her about it, she just shrugged her shoulders, claiming it must have always been that way. That he had been blind to the beauty of the place. Maybe that was true, but he suspected that there was far more to Mellissa than met the eye. Somehow, she’d brought Clayhill to life, like she’d brought him to life, and it both scared him and filled him with a joy that was hard to contain.

Bertram didn’t think he would ever recover from her touch. In his most private moments he longed for it more than he could express, especially to her. He rubbed at his arm absentmindedly, thinking back to when she’d first arrived. She had changed him irrevocably that day. The feeling that he truly belonged, that he was a part of something more gave him purpose. His life had meaning now, like it never had before. Bertram had always been a loner. His grandfather his only friend and influence in his life. Since his passing, Bertram had lived hand to mouth, eking out a living doing odd jobs in the village nearby. In all that time, he’d never sought friendship or contact with anyone, preferring to stay alone at Clayhill.

Now he was no longer alone, and whilst he didn’t truly understand what had happened the day of her arrival or why she was even here he was happier than he’d been in a long time.

“Bertram, did you hear me? I was thinking maybe we should get out of Clayhill for a bit?” Mellissa said, interrupting his thoughts. If she’d noticed him staring she didn’t say, she was kind like that. He felt like some lovesick teenager around her. It was embarrassing.

“Sure, OK. What were you thinking?” Bertram stuttered, barely able to get the words out. Most of the time he was a bumbling fool in her presence. This time was no different.

“I’d like to see the ocean. I thought we could take a picnic? Go sit on the bluff, watch the stars come out, whilst it’s still warm enough to do so.” She looked at him, her emerald eyes gleaming. “I always loved star-gazing as a child. There’s something so wonderful about the night sky lit up with stars, don’t you think?”

Bertram felt his heart thumping in his chest as thoughts of Mellissa entwined in his arms formed in his mind. He shook his head free of the thought. Now, Bertram, don’t get ahead of yourself.

“You don’t have to, of course,” Mellissa started, her own cheeks tinged with pink. “It was just an idea.”

“No. I mean, yes, I’d like to,” Bertram coughed, the words catching in his throat. “I know a good spot. We’ll go tonight.”

“That’s settled then,” Mellissa said, jumping up from her seat. She skipped over to him and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll get a picnic together for supper and meet you in the kitchen in half-an-hour.” Her hair smelled of coconut and orchids, conjuring up images of exotic beaches in far flung islands.

“OK,” Bertram mumbled, his fingertips touching the spot where Mellissa had kissed him. He watched her leave the library, certain that the evening ahead would mean more to him than it would to her.

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