Morgan sighed with relief before her brow pulled together. ‘Do you mean I’m seeing the future?’ The blonde-haired girl nodded. Morgan turned back to the scene before her. ‘Where is Christine?’
‘She’s dancing with Tom.’ Morgan looked towards the dancefloor and saw Christine in the arms of Tom. She looked past them and saw the band in action. The men in the band were dressed in paisley shirts and straw hats, the women dressed in long skirts with thick leather belts around their waists and white off the shoulder blouses and matching paisley neckerchiefs tied around their necks.
Morgan smiled widely. They were brilliant musicians and were visually exactly as she’d envisioned them. She scanned the faces in the barn. ‘Where is Ned? And where am I?’
‘Look to the left up the corner.’ Morgan did as she was instructed and saw Ned looking straight over the heads of everyone on the dancefloor towards something. ‘Now look right, up the opposite corner.’
Morgan gasped. It was her. She was wearing the exact outfit she’d planned on wearing. She had a sparkly blouse and dark trousers with piping running down the length of them, madefrom the exact same matching sparkly material a her blouse. She was watching the dancers, a ghost of a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. ‘Oh. I’m there...on my own. Why am I standing alone?’
She looked back to the girl, but she was shocked to see she’d aged again. Now she was a woman around thirty years old. ‘You want to join in, but you’re being foolish. You’re blaming your cane... Really, you’re frightened of change. Frightened of the unknown. You want to join in, but you’re being foolish. You’re blaming your cane... Really, you’re frightened of change. Frightened of the unknown. There is a man at the party who cares deeply for you, but you’ll use your cane as an excuse to push him away. Your future happiness will balance on decision you have to make at your party. All the visions you’ve seem are of future events yet to unfold. Your future happiness rests on the decision.’ The young woman began to fade away. ‘It’s time for me to go.’
‘Wait! Where do I know you from? I recognise your green eyes.’
‘I have the eyes of my father. We will meet again one day...mother.’
A tingle spread from Morgan’s scalp all the way to her toes. She knew instantly who the young woman was. She’d been just eight weeks pregnant on the night Bren was killed in a tragic motorbike accident. She’d know for a couple of weeks she might be pregnant, but like Pippa, she’d wanted to get past the first trimester, into the safety of the second one before she revealed her exciting secret to her husband. Only, it was never meant to be, and the tragedy took everything out of her body, and she’d sadly lost her baby while she was grieving.
A sob shuddered out of Morgan’s mouth and the two words she spoke were all but a whisper. ‘My baby.’
The young woman smiled serenely and nodded. Her image becoming more transparent by the second. ‘We’ll all meet again one day mum, but until then, please be happy in the remainder of your life.’ She finally vanished and Morgan gasped.
When she awoke, her pillow was soaking wet and her throat dry and sore. She knew she’d been crying in her sleep. Had they been sad tears mourning the daughter she never had? Or happy tears because she’d gotten the chance to meet the daughter she’d lost?
She didn’t know, but one thing she did know was, she needed to heed the voices of her beloved departed family. She needed to stop using her cane and disability as an excuse. Her fingers went absentmindedly to her mouth. She knew it was easier said than done.
Morgan had a sudden urge to go home, to be where she was when she was last physically connected to Bren and her daughter.
MORGAN HADN’T BEENhome more than once a month since Bren passed away, yet this would make it two visits in a week. This time, she stood on the pavement on the opposite side of the road from her house and looked at the house through the eyes of the twenty-something year old she’d been when they’d first bought it. How she had loved the house back them. She saw it exactly as it had been, with a neat miniature front garden and freshly painted rendering, windows and front door.
She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed in deeply, then she opened them again and saw the house as everyone else saw it. It was tired. Tired, unloved and abandoned with ghosts rattling around inside it. Morgan was surprised the local children hadn’t started calling it the old spooky house of Seagull Bay?
It was time to go inside. She approached the door and this time thanks to Ned, the key slipped into the lock and turned easily, unlocking the door with one click. Morgan pushed the door open and inhaled. Had she been disillusioned the last time she’d come, because now it just smelt neglected and musty and in need of a deep clean, new flooring and a lick of paint.
Ned had been kind in saying it needed updating. It needed a great deal more than that. It needed an owner to love it like she once had when her life here had been good. She wandered from room to room on the ground level, stopping at the sink where she’d been when she’d experienced her first dream, only this time, the stainless steel of the sink didn’t sparkle from lovingly being wiped down twice a day.
From where she was standing, she could see the small slim back garden. It hadn’t been tended to since July, almost six months ago, and whatever foliage grew there, was an unruly mess. Morgan sighed, turned around and headed into the hallway.
She paused at the foot of the stairs and looked up. She never hardly went upstairs. She could count on one hand how many times she’d ventured up there since Bren’s passing. Hesitantly, she ascended the stairs, using the banister to pull on and her cane to push up on simultaneously. At the top of the stairs, it took a good minute for her to catch her breath. Then she headed for the bedroom, pausing at the yellowed door which was once beaming white.
The two minutes before she entered had nothing to do with being out of breath. Her heart rate elevated as she pushed open the door.
The bed was neatly made. It was still the same geometric black, grey and red print cover that had been gifted to them as one of their wedding presents. Morgan had disliked the design, but it was a clear winner in Bren’s eyes. She of course comearound, wanting to please her new husband she’d put up with the vulgar style. A smile tugged up the corners of her mouth. She was so glad she had. At least he’d gotten to enjoy it. Even if it was just for a short time.
The room brought so many old memories and emotions to the surface. She took another long breath, but it was time to put them to bed forever, and she was in the most appropriate place to do it.
‘Good bye Bren. I loved you so much, but I need to move on. I truly believe we will meet again one day. I’ll be re-united with you and our daughter, but until that day...adieu.’
Morgan’s phone began to ring. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out. Ned’s name lit up the screen. She smiled. Was this fate intervening?
‘Hello?’
‘Hello Morgan...you are my closest friend. I could really do with your support with something tomorrow. Can I count on you?’
Morgan answered resolutely. ‘Yes. You can count on me Ned.’
Chapter sixteen
Smoothing down her hair, Morgan opened the door. Ned smiled at her, but she could immediately sense he was not himself. He had a slight furrow in his brow and there was worry behind his eyes.
