Inside Out

By Janet Ollerenshaw

Tamarind is blessed with a gift to help heal past hurts; but at what cost? She weaves in and out of the lives of others, leaving peace and mystery. Observed by ‘Old Bess’ and guided by others, she leads an unconventional and tragic life, oblivious to the purpose behind her path and ultimate destiny. The story touches on reincarnation, scientific interference and belief in the seemingly impossible. Acceptance of Tam’s truth may mean everything is turned “Inside Out”.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Acorn Books
• Release date: Jan 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781785380914

Book preview

arrive...

Chapter One

She opened her eyes carefully, allowing only the smallest glimmer of sunlight to filter through her long dark lashes. Gradually she became aware of the air, oppressive and harsh but softened by the gentle lap and flow of waves on sand. Moving slowly, testing each limb for anticipated pain, she rolled over, carefully sat up and began to survey the unfamiliar surroundings.

The beach was long and narrow, edged on one side by the constantly moving, silvery mercurial sea and on the other by undulating grassy topped sand dunes. Behind the dune a band of lightly wooded grassland which, as the density of the woodland intensified, sloped upward and curved to the left into the rocky foothills of seemingly inhospitable and formidable mountains.

To the far right of Tam’s current location a silvery stream snaked its way across the sand and spilled its freshness into the sea. In the still air the sound of water over rocks and through grassy passes provided musical accompaniment to the songs of small birds and the cries of small creatures.

Still struggling to make some sense of her surroundings, Tam was startled when a voice spoke softly behind her, Welcome home. Home? This doesn’t feel like home! She knew the word should evoke some sort of memory but for now she seemed only to function on the basis of feeling. She avoided the obvious, Where am I? and turned slowly so as to observe the speaker. The small figure, dressed entirely in black, incongruous in this idyllic setting, was somehow exactly what Tam had subconsciously expected. Only the intensely blue eyes gave witness to character and authority.

***

She knew not how long she listened nor could she recall what words he spoke, but she felt his peace and understood his commands. As the sun sank and painted the sky with glorious crimson silver glow, she lowered her eyes from his captivating gaze and when she lifted her head, he was gone. At once the realisation that she was wet, cold and ravenously hungry compelled her to her feet and she stumbled her way up the sand dunes and toward the grassland beyond. Led by an invisible hand she made her way to the left and rounded the headland; the only exit from this idyllic spot was a narrow goat path which wound steeply upward and treacherously near the crumbling cliff edge. Darkness fell quickly and soon she could only feel her way over the rough ground which penetrated the soft skin of the bare soles of her feet. Many times she fell but each time she was lifted and gently pressed forward until she saw the soft light glowing from the window of a low stone building nestled in the side of the rocks.

***

The humble cottage stood on the windswept cliff and sheltered in a natural inlet between two rocky crags. Here the wind passed by, howling round the beaten edges of the ancient cliff face and sweeping up and over the low stone building. Low trees bent toward the dwelling and took the brunt of the storms whilst thrift and heathers bravely showed their colours in the lee of the old stone walls. This lonely and unlikely place was home for Old Bess and her cats. No one could remember a time when she had not been old or had not had a myriad of cats draping themselves over her sparse and rustic furniture or playing with the wind-stirred debris that fluttered in the small yard and garden. Not that it really deserved the label ‘garden’; it was wild and unkempt with random flowers that struggled to survive the harsh habitat. A few straggly shrubs and hardy trees seemed to be held down by the never ending brambles that flowered and fruited in abundance despite the cruel conditions.

It was these fruits that Old Bess had gathered on the day that Tam arrived. Jam was the goal and fruit the vital source of nutrition and flavour. Honey from the wild bees to serve as sweetness and preservative; the goodness in nature’s bounty would help to keep body and soul together throughout the long winter months which loured on the horizon of the dying year. She had washed the fruit and boiled it soft and now the honey was gently dissolving in the rich purple juice. She stepped back from the hot stove and lifted her rosy face to observe the glorious sunset. A noise startled her and she hurried to the door, thinking one of her many cats was calling for entry. No cat confronted her surprised being, but a figure fell faint at her feet with a soft sighing moan. Old Bess, notwithstanding her astonishment, gathered the girl to her ample bosom and carried her into the house. Gently she laid her on the saggy old couch, gently she rubbed the dead cold limbs and gently she washed the wounded feet. Asking no questions, she covered the girl with her own bedding and set about preparing some broth.

The girl slept. In her sleep she muttered and groaned but nothing intelligible was forthcoming. Old Bess moistened her feverish brow, fed her teaspoons of broth and soothed her parched lips with the tenderness of a mother. Though no mother she, to a daughter so seemingly fragile as this.

***

The girl slept. In her sleep she walked in a meadow. Long grass and flowers caressed her legs as she walked, their wetness soothing the heat in her blood. A breeze stroked the hair from her brow and dried the beads of sweat before they trickled down her rosy cheeks. She had no thoughts, no intention nor sense of direction; her feet floated across the uneven soil and her fingers raised dusty trails of pollen as they brushed the tops of the seeded heads. The path ended at the side of a small stream and she paused to drink in the cool chorus of a myriad of rivulets over rocks. She bent and made a cup of her hand. The silver liquid refreshed her soul with its purity and cleansed her skin with gentleness. A pebble caught her eye and a voice urged, Take it. Unquestioningly she stepped into the stream and stretched out her hand to take the gleaming pebble. It glistened wetly in her palm as she curled her fingers and felt the soft smoothness and cold hardness. Her thumb pressed into an indentation and she stroked the shape made for her. Breathing deeply she listened to the voice that told her to follow the stream as it danced away to the sea. She found herself walking along the leafy towpath. Again she knew not where she went, nor why. She was at peace with herself and the world around her and she knew there was a purpose for this journey. She was content to let the path unfold before her and go where her feet were guided.

The stream broadened into a fast flowing river and then a torrent that rushed downhill over rocks and falls. The path was steep and treacherous but Tam was not afraid and stepped with the surefootedness of a mountain goat or its shepherd.

On my child; fear not, I am with you. The words brought courage and strength. Although she had travelled far and for many hours in the timelessness of her sleep, tiredness was not on her and time was of no consequence. The pebble under her thumb seemed to sustain all her needs and neither hunger nor thirst troubled her.

Later the river spread wide and shallow as it reached the great ocean and mixed its blood with that of its salty parent. The great circle of a precious cycle completed. Tam shivered and pulled her thin cardigan closer round her shoulders as the sun began to sink low and leak its pink glow into the evening sky.

On a little further; our journey is near done. The voice urged her forward again. She stepped lightly over the sand and down to the rippling water’s edge. The water was stilling as the breeze dropped and mists began to roll across the fields and over the pink gold surface of the sea.

Take the pebble and throw it out into the water. commanded the voice. Tam held the shining stone close to her lips. She closed her eyes and kissed it. Let it go. Swiftly she drew back her arm and threw the pebble as far as she could.

Watch the ripples. See how they spread far across the world. For every small flung pebble, for every small action, for every small thought there are rings of ripples. You are like a pebble thrown into the pond that is the world. I have let you go and have thrown you into the world and now you have cast your ripples far and wide. You may not know whence they wandered, you may not know what effect they have had but for each ripple that you created be sure that another ripple will have affected you too. Now go and follow your final path. Learn the lessons you have selected and when the last ripple meets its nemesis, return to me here and we will rejoice together.

***

For two days she slept. On the third day she awoke to yet another unfamiliar sound and place. Tam opened her eyes. At first she could see nothing until an orange glow from the fireplace penetrated the darkness which was further brightened by candlelight reflected in a dusky mirror over the brick mantelpiece. Sounds too filtered through to her dulled brain. The chink of crockery and glass and hot sizzling sounds, a waft of delicious aromas reminded Tam that she was hungry. She tried to raise herself but became aware of something pressing softly on her abdomen. She lifted her hand and felt carefully around her. Knitted blankets, satin quilt, velvet ribbon and then a spitting ball of fur and nails exploded in a frightened rage at the tiny kitten’s rude awakening. Copper, white and black fluff flew in all directions as Tam suppressed the urge to scream. Old Bess hurried into the room, Oh my, you’re awake! she exclaimed. So sorry if Tiny frightened you. He’s taken quite a fancy to you too. Funny little scrap turned up on my doorstep the night you arrived; half drowned and more than half dead the pair of you. A bowl of milk and a good sleep did for him but you? Well, you’re quite another matter!

Carefully Old Bess told Tam as much as she knew. She spoke of the strange coming of the barefooted girl, who carried no burden, not even a purse. She spoke of a sudden darkness and an unusual colour in the sky that night. She mentioned the kitten and how it had slunk through the closing door and collapsed beside Tam on the kitchen floor. She remembered the strange crooning in the wind and how it sang and echoed down the sooted chimney. No explanation was offered, just a description of fact however strange it may have seemed. Tam listened and none of it seemed shocking but somehow just as she expected to hear. Only the kitten was of interest and incurred a glimmer of emotion close to possessiveness. Tam wanted the kitten close to her; with it nearby she felt protected and protective though she knew not how or why.

It wasn’t that she knew nothing; she knew who she was, Tam, and she knew that she was where she was meant to be. The puzzle was to work out where this place was and why she was here. Old Bess was both familiar and a stranger but even her familiarity was intrinsic to the puzzle. As far as she knew, Tam had never met Bess before and yet her voice, her touch and even her actions were just as she knew they would be. When Bess bent low to soothe her brow, her perfume breathed comfort and nurture to Tam and her words danced in a choreographed pattern that Tam knew so well. How did she know? Why did she know? Exactly what did she know? Questions teemed through her mind and she twisted in the blankets as her restless mind manifested itself in her restless limbs.

Time for you to take some fresh air my girl! exclaimed Old Bess. Tiny uncurled himself and slid gracefully to the floor, stretching his dainty paws and flexing the deceptive fragility of transparent claws. Wrapping her in rugs and woollen hats, scarves and an oilskin cloak, Old Bess ushered her out through the old wooden stable door. The air was cold but soft and Tam breathed in deeply feeling the pureness and tasting the salty tang of the sea. A breeze tugged at the wisps of hair that escaped the woollen hat and Tam lifted her face to feel the promise of colder winds to come. Winter was here; where had the summer gone? A shudder shook Tam and she stumbled. Enough for now, said Bess, You can’t run before you re-learn to walk. Come on, I’ll help you in and you can sit by the fire with me until nightfall. We’ll talk and perhaps I can help untangle that enigma you’re battling with.

‘How did she know I was battling?’ thought Tam, though even as the thought flashed through her mind, she knew the answer. Somehow there was an inexplicable connection between the two women and Tam knew that the first step to understanding what was happening, was to acknowledge the connection and use the gifts she had been given. Gifts she knew that she had but whose purpose remained unexplained and whose powers were as yet untried.

***

Tam had always known that her life would be unconventional, even before she knew or understood what conventionality was. As a small child she was often alone and would spend hours apparently gazing into nothingness, deep in another world of her own. She was inquisitive and wild, refusing to succumb to the plastic toys and make-believe world of other children. She learned to read very early and even before she could make sense of the letters and words, would thumb through picture books; not ‘abc’ or baby picture books, but books of nature, animals and geographic wonders. She had no special friends except those imaginary ones that peopled her games and her conversation. She often sang to herself, little strange wispy strains, sometimes with words but more often in a kind of humming sigh. She smiled an enigmatic smile that did not include others but which radiated an inner happiness. She was self contained and contented in her aloneness. Wild creatures and small animals came near her and she accepted their nearness with normality and almost expectation. They were not afraid of her nor she of them.

She was slight and small for her age but her size belied her strength and her fragility was only in looks. If you looked deep into her hazel green eyes, you would see strength that was astonishing in one so small and so young. Other children kept their distance. It wasn’t that they didn’t like her; indeed they were fascinated by her, but there was an air of untouchableness about her that made them wary and coming close might somehow demonstrate commitment to a friendship that could be dangerous. When in the company of others; in school perhaps, she rarely smiled and was solemn and withdrawn. They called her the ice-child, the cold-cuckoo. Her mousy blonde hair and pale skin emphasising the coldness of her looks.

A cuckoo is renowned for laying its eggs in another bird’s nest. The young cuckoo, when it hatches, pushes the other eggs and baby birds out of the nest. Hence the term cuckoo for Tam although it wasn’t a hatchling that deserted the nest...

Tam was born in spring after a long hard winter. Snowdrops were done and primroses were filling the banks of the lanes with their sunshine and promise of warmth and new life to come. Lambs were bleating for their mothers in the meadows and birds were busy building their nests for the eggs and fledglings that would soon populate the hedgerows and trees. New life, new beginnings, a new journey...

Chapter Two

In the beginning there was nothing. Silent, black, empty; no thought, no feeling, no knowledge; nothing...

There was no passing of time, no expectation, no change.

Gradually, little by little, consciousness began. First the blackness began to fill with glimpses of colour. Light and shade seeped into the space. Slowly, slowly, sounds, both distant and nearby, but dulled and subdued by the heavy nothingness. Movements, tiny flutterings and scuffles, rustling winds swirled in the heavy atmosphere.

Beings crowded the tiny soul, fussing over minutest details in preparation for the journey. Emergence into life was slow, like a butterfly from a chrysalis. As the velvet blue eyes opened onto the world, so darkness receded and silence stood aside; time began.

Floating on the thick breath of energy, the tiny chest heaved and sighed out pure life. Eyes flickered and opened, just a little, then closed. Sinking gently back into the cushion of all encompassing, unconscious nothingness.

Love swelled the maternal heart until it burst with overwhelming magnitude and beat its last. Blackness poured into the life that was and as one ended so another began.

Her life would not be easy. Even at the very beginning she was alone. The burden would be heavy, that she knew, the path difficult, strewn with obstacles, and hard to discern. How did she know? She knew with an undeniable knowing, it was part of her task to carry this knowing. She also knew that she was not entirely alone. Not in the sense of having someone to care for her physical needs, but in the sense of being guided and protected. The beings who prepared her for this journey were nearby and the One was with her, in her, round her, always. Her path would be harsh, and that harshness was her purpose and her reason.

***

Tamarind; her name meant bittersweet; an oxymoron which acknowledged the complicated mix of emotions at her birth. Undeniable joy at a new life overlain with deepest sadness at the sacrifice her mother made for her child. She was named by her Aunt, her mother’s sister, who took the tiny scrap home and loved her as her own.

Eleanor was an elegant woman who, having early realised that she was barren and would never be a natural mother, had made her career her life. Although she had married young, her husband was also a business man and was often away from home for long periods. Eleanor was not dismayed at this, indeed she rarely asked for details of her husband’s work and the relationship worked well. Oh she loved David and her joy in his company was the highlight she looked forward to when he was home, but she was content to accept the way things were and buried deep her hurt at life’s inequalities. Motherhood was not for her and she accepted that fact. If David was disappointed he hid it well. There were other women and there were business affairs, and there were also times when he seemed to disappear altogether. Eleanor would not hear from him for several weeks and although she was not predisposed to worry there would come a point at which she would wonder when he would return. She rarely contacted him when he was away, giving him the time, space and trust that he seemed to need and, although she sometimes would have liked to reach and touch him, she held back, something stopping her. Perhaps it was a form of self protection; what the eyes couldn’t see couldn’t hurt. Always he reappeared. Always the same, relaxed, smiling pleased to see her and there was no doubt in his genuine pleasure at being with her again. Eleanor did not ask; she did not want to know. It was enough that he returned to her each time and that she loved him with a deep inexplicable almost inexpressible unconditional loving that obliterated any doubt that might try slyly to creep into her heart.

It was during one of these periods of prolonged absence that things changed dramatically for Eleanor. Perhaps, had he been at home, it might have turned out differently, but he wasn’t and the decisions she made changed things for ever.

Her heels clicked sharply on the marble floor as she crossed the foyer of the tall office block. Her smart grey suit emphasised the slenderness of her graceful figure and she held out her hand in greeting to the small figure waiting nervously at the lift door. Confidence wafted around Eleanor and she smiled warmly, Come on up to the office. Her voice left no room for refusal.

The second girl had all the slenderness and potential grace of the first but her shoulders were hunched, her head bowed and her scrawny fingers plucked nervously at her thin, ragged cardigan. Her hair, not as the former, swept up into a neat chignon; fell in tangled wisps framing