The Aura (7 page)

I walked to the window and looked outside. The rain had stopped, and a half-moon shone, partially obscured by the soft edges of a dark cloud. I slid the window up and leaned out, breathing in the scent of rain-soaked slate. Traffic hummed on the main road a few blocks away, and a group of teenagers shouted and laughed in the street below. I should be thrilled, happy, singing with joy. But the timing was all wrong.

He came to stand behind me. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

I leaned into him for a few seconds, then twisted out of his arms and turned to face him. “I just need some time.”

“And you can’t tell me why?” he asked. When I didn’t answer, he frowned, a vertical line between his dark brows. I reached up to smooth it away.

“Is there someone else?” he asked.

“No, no. Nothing like that.”

“I don’t want to pry. But, if you can trust me with whatever it is, I’ll be there for you.”

I wanted to tell him. I needed to, if I had any chance of being with him in the way I wanted to be. If I said nothing, then I was telling him a lie.

“I can see when someone is going to die.”

To give Josh his due, he didn’t laugh. He did look very skeptical.

“What did you say?” he said, his voice a little higher than usual.

“Sit down and I’ll tell you everything.” I led him back to the sofa.

“You remember that my mother died a few months ago? I went back to Italy for the funeral?”

He nodded. He’d been kind to me, bought me some flowers, left condolence notes on my desk.

“I never knew how she died,” he said. “You didn’t really talk about it.”

“She was killed by a car while she was walking in a pedestrian crossing. The thing is…” I found it hard to form the words. “It was my fault. I’d texted her and she was texting me back. Witnesses said that she checked the road was clear before walking across, but was looking at her phone when a car came out of nowhere. It didn’t stop. She never even saw it.”

“That doesn’t make it your fault, Kate,” Josh said.

I plunged on, describing how I’d seen my mother get out of a car on the hill in Tuscany. Josh was silent. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t know what to say either.

“After that, I started to see this strange thing, air rippling around people’s heads and shoulders.”

I told him about Francesca and Sophie. “They’re both dead,” I said. “And Rebecca has the same thing. So I think that means she’s going to die.”

Josh was quiet for a long time when I finished talking. The only sound was the faint rustle of cloth as he jiggled one leg up and down nervously.

“Josh, I don’t want to freak you out. It sounds insane, I know.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

“My brother. He didn’t believe me, thought it was all in my head.”

“You really believe that Rebecca is going to die?”

I shrugged. “Based on what happened before, yes, but I don’t know when or how.”

“So it could be tomorrow or next week or next month? Next year?”

I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. “I’ve only got two experiences to base this on, but with Francesca, the air was fainter than with Sophie. I saw her several days before she had the stroke. With Sophie, the air was moving faster, and she fell into the pool just minutes later. So I think there is a connection between the movement of the air and the amount of time left. Rebecca’s was faint when I first saw it and it’s growing more pronounced every time I see her.”

Josh shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m finding this hard to take in.”

“You and me both.” I laughed, but it came out as a sob.

“I’ve heard about people who can see energy fields.” His voice was calmer. “Sort of light auras around people that change color depending on how they feel.”

He must have seen the surprise on my face.

“There was a movie I saw once, I can’t remember what it was called,” he said. “But it was interesting and I looked up ‘aura’ on the Internet. It’s bizarre, I admit, but then there’s all sorts of stuff going on in the universe that we don’t understand or even know about.”

He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge and took out a half-full bottle of white wine. Pouring two glasses, he came back and gave me one.

“I need something stronger than tea to handle this,” he said with a grin. We sat together on the sofa, holding hands.

“So, you’ve seen this aura three times…”

“More than that,” I said. “But sometimes with strangers, so I don’t know what happened to them. I try not to think about it, really.”

He nodded. “I can understand that. He took a long swallow of wine and put the glass on the table. Without thinking, I picked it up, placing it on the coaster. He laughed.

“You always were a control freak,” he said. “And I mean that in the nicest possible way.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, which he answered with a sheepish smile. “It’s true. You’re so organized and efficient. Everything has to be orderly. Until recently, of course. Now you’re a crazy, discombobulated mess. Personally, I find that rather enchanting.”

Using my elbow, I jabbed his arm. “Watch it. I don’t intend to be like this forever. I’ll soon be back to my old ways.”

“I like your old ways too,” he said. His grin faded and he looked more serious. “If you hadn’t seen the aura thingy over Rebecca’s head, would you still be worried about her? I mean, she hasn’t hinted about being ill, threatened, suicidal?”

I thought about it for a few seconds. “No. Nothing. So no, I wouldn’t be concerned.”

“Well, perhaps you should try not to worry then,” he said. “There’s every chance that there’s no real meaning to the aura and that the two deaths you’ve told me about are just coincidences. Besides, Rebecca is a grown-up. I’m sure she’s very capable of looking after herself.”

I looked up at him. There was something about his tone of voice. “You don’t like her?”

“I don’t know. I’ve only met her a couple of times, but she does seem kind of superficial.” He stopped when he saw the expression on my face. “Ok, that’s judgmental. I’m sorry. I’m sure she’s a good person.”

“She is, once you get to know her. I think with her being so beautiful, it changes how people relate to her.”

“You’re beautiful, but you’re also kind and thoughtful. You’re real.”

I took a moment to let Josh’s words sink in, like warm honey on my skin. But, seconds later, the old chill was back. I wanted to believe what Josh was saying about the aura being coincidental, but I was sure it wasn’t. It was his way of dealing with my bizarre confession.

“The aura’s real too, Josh.”

He nodded. “I believe you. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it. We’ll get it sorted out, I promise.”

My eyelids were feeling heavy. I realized I was really tired. I drained my wineglass and leaned back against the cushions. “I’m sorry. I need an early night. Everything still hurts.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself?” he asked. “I could sleep on the sofa if you don’t want to be alone.”

I shook my head. “I’m so tired, I’ll be asleep before you even reach the bottom of the stairs. Thank you though for listening, and for caring…”

Leaning towards him, I kissed him briefly, on the lips. It was tempting to have him stay, but I knew that I wasn’t in control of my emotions. I felt capable of laughing hysterically and bursting into tears, both at the same time. I didn’t want to weird him out any more than I already had.

His jacket was still damp when I picked it up. While I watched him pull it on, I wrestled with conflicting desires. To sleep, or to stay up all night, drinking wine and talking with him. He pulled me towards him, stroking my hair back from my face.

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I wanted to answer but my throat hurt too much. Tears made my eyes burn as I watched him close the door gently behind him.

There was a meeting with the Montgomery group on Tuesday morning. Arriving early at the conference room, I took a seat, and watched everyone else file in. Josh sat opposite me.

“You okay?” he asked, while Peter Montgomery and three of his associates took their seats.

I nodded, grateful for his concern.

“Are we ready to begin?” Alan asked. He seemed to be more orange than usual, or maybe it was the lavender polo shirt that exacerbated his skin tone.

“Where’s Rebecca?” I asked, looking at Montgomery.

He shrugged, glancing at his assistants with an eyebrow raised in query.

“I don’t know,” one of them said.

“Is she sick?” I demanded, leaning forward in my chair. I caught a glimpse of a warning glance from Josh and sensed Alan tensing at the end of the table.

“She was away from her desk yesterday?” the man replied, his voice rising into a question of his own, clearly unsure that he needed to respond to me.

“Didn’t anyone bother to find out why she’s not here today?” I stood up.

“That’s enough, Kate. Please sit down.” Alan’s tone was of barely subdued fury.

Peter Montgomery looked at me. “I don’t understand what business it is of yours,” he said, a deep frown forming over his blue eyes.

“Rebecca’s my friend. I’m worried about her.”

“Your friend? Well, I’m sure there’s nothing to be concerned about,” he said condescendingly. “People take time off work when they have a cold, or a hangover, or when there’s a good sale on at Selfridges. But in Ms. Williams’ case, she could very well be out of town at one of our other offices. We have many of them, which she visits regularly. I’ll check with my secretary when I get back to my office. Now can we please proceed?”

I thought about it. Rebecca could be away on business, but wouldn’t she have answered my text from yesterday? Even if she were really busy?

“I need to make a quick call,” I said walking towards the door.

“Kate, please come and sit down,” said Alan quietly. I turned to look back. He looked like a python coiled and ready to strike. Josh had one hand over his eyes as though he couldn’t bear to watch. The Montgomery money men were reading files, oblivious to it all, or pretending to be, and Montgomery’s eyes were cold, his mouth pursed in disapproval.

I walked out, closing the door carefully behind me. My fingers trembled as I pressed the buttons for Rebecca’s number. I knew a major confrontation with Alan would come later, but I couldn’t worry about that now. The call went to voicemail. I tried again and left a voicemail telling Rebecca to call me right back, then stood motionless, unsure of what to do. Finally I walked back to my office. I’d barely sat down when Alan arrived. He leaned both hands on the desk opposite me, his face flushed with anger.

“What the fuck are you up to?” he demanded. “Peter Montgomery is our biggest client, and you just walked out on him. Now please get back in there and do your job.”

“I just need to check in on Rebecca.”

“You can do that later.”

I hesitated. I felt like I was walking along the rim of a cliff and the ground was subsiding beneath me. If I didn’t do as Alan said, this could be the end of my employment at Bradley Cohen. But I was worried sick about Rebecca. I realized that I hadn’t heard from her all day Monday. It had been such a crazy day that I hadn’t noticed. Now, I felt crushed with guilt. I was supposed to be looking out for her and I didn’t even know where she was. But I couldn’t lose my job.

I nodded at Alan. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” Alan said and headed back towards the conference room. I followed him and took my seat. Josh looked relieved to see me and, for his sake, I did my best to focus on the discussion and do my part. The meeting lasted for several hours and then Alan requested we stay for a review meeting after Montgomery and his crew had left. It was mid-afternoon by the time we wrapped up. The conference table was littered with paper plates and remnants of sandwiches, empty cans and cups and a mini-blizzard of rejected notes and drawings. While everyone packed up and left the room, I swept the debris into a wastepaper basket.

“We have people who do that, you know,” came a voice from the door. I looked up to see Jack Cohen beaming at me.

He was dressed in a suit and a green bow tie, a matching handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket. The bow tie was a fixture, with a daily change of color.

“How are you, my dear?” he asked.

“I’m fine, thanks, Jack, How are you? Looking very dapper in green today.”

Jack smiled widely, sending a battalion of wrinkles marching over his cheeks and forehead. He was in his sixties but fit and wiry. He’d run the London Marathon for the first time the previous year and was in training for the one in New York.

“Good, good,” he said. “I heard on the grapevine that you had an accident, and that the road to recovery has been a little bumpy?”

Alan complaining about me, no doubt. I briefly explained that I’d been hit by a car, and apologized for taking time out.

“I’m much better now,” I said, half-expecting him to tell me I was fired or on probation. But he just looked at me with concern in his eyes.

“You let me know if there’s anything I can do,” he said. “Although I won’t be around much for the next week or so. I’ve got an outing planned for later this week, followed by a business trip to Edinburgh early next week.”

I pushed the last paper plate into the bin and set it down in the corner. “Well, send me a postcard.”

“I might just do that.”

I went back to my office to call Rebecca again, but there was still no answer. Josh dropped by to say he was going off-site with Alan. I breathed a sigh of relief. With Alan out for the rest of the afternoon, I’d be able to leave early.

Ben walked past my office, seemed to think of something and came back to my door.

“So, you’re spending time with the Montgomery Financial Director outside of the office?” he asked.

“We’re just friends,” I answered. “There’s nothing sinister going on.”

Ben’s pale moon face crumpled in mock amusement. “Friends? That’s fast. No one makes friends that quickly.”

“No one would make friends with
you
that quickly,” I retorted. “But, no, we knew each other in college.”

That silenced him for a few seconds, but then he started again. “Even so, it’s against company policy to socialize with clients,” he said. “You might be giving out information on details that we’re not ready to commit to yet.”