Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 70

                We’re barely inside the Edge before we step out again. Elle pants like she’s just been out for a run.

                ‘Wow,’ she says. ‘That was uncomfortable. Masturbating from age 12, you dirty boy.’

                ‘H-how did you know that, you didn’t see…?’

                ‘No,’ she says, grinning, ‘but it’s nice to know.’

                My cheeks heat up several degrees.

                ‘Did you see anything at all?’ I ask, looking at my shoes.

                ‘Just flashes,’ she says. ‘I saw a lot of a girl with dark hair. Penny I assume?’

                I nod. ‘Nice catch,’ she compliments. ‘It’s strange, your memories are like pages, and pictures, like comics. It’s quite an experience.’

                ‘I only see darkness when I’m in there,’ I say.

                ‘Alright, moody,’ she says. ‘I guess we don’t really know how to view our own unconscious. To other people you’re clearer to see.’

                I wonder did Yates see that too, did it unsettle him. Maybe we project some of ourselves onto other people? If he was scared when he was with me, scared enough to regress into his childlike form, then maybe he saw the darkness too, or something worse. Elle seems to have the talent of reading people.

                ‘I don’t think I’ll be doing that again anytime soon,’ she says after a moment. ‘It makes me feel constricted, like a snake squashing me from every side. I like the freedom I have out here.’ She looks around. ‘So where are we?’

                ‘Staines Road,’ I say. ‘Near Twickenham. Graham’s lived here all his life. I can imagine he’s here now.’

                ‘Nice road,’ she says, surveying the big houses on our right and the golf course down the other.

                ‘Rich family,’ I reply. ‘Graham’s dad’s insistent on him following in his footsteps. If I can make contact with Graham, I can persuade him to come with us and track the man. There are certain ways of measuring waves. If we can find the epicentre, where they originated, we can find where the starbright man will most likely return to.’

                ‘Smartarse,’ she teases.

                ‘And proud,’ I retort with a smile.

                We begin to walk down the road, side by side. Cars whizz past, unaware that they are in the presence of the paranormal. It’s strange how normal transporting across the world has become. Before dying, a trip to Rome would cost hundreds of pounds. Impossible for a seventeen year old.

                Now, stripped of material wealth and possessions, Elle’s right, there’s a freedom to living that no one alive knows the pleasure of.