Whispering Souls

By Gail Sarah Williams

I thought of the person I had seen during my first week at Blackland, when a tall statuesque man, walked past me on the stairs, displaying an unabashed look of curiosity in me. He said a warm hello and stood back on the stairwell to let me pass. As I approached the space he had made for me, I glanced at him and realised that we were linked in some inexplicable way.

Fragments of a real-life tale, sensitively written with a captivating self-awareness. The author has put into words life's ups and downs, capturing the everyday woman with spiritual intervention. Expressive and poignant, this story depicts lifes turmoils and joys, incorporating the thrill of travel, with a psychic aspect.

Written with emotion and humour.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Dec 31, 2010
• ISBN: 9781467895347

Gail Sarah Williams

The Author was born and brought up in the Home Counties. Now a divorced woman, she lives in Berkshire. “Gail Williams is a person of strong traditional values. She is sensitive, passionate and forthright, but at the same time complicated and impulsive. She is a person who craves affection and the emotional stability that comes with that. If her Ying and Yang are in balance she is entertaining and great fun to be around, if not then unpredictability of Icelandic proportions occur.”

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© 2012 Gail Sarah Williams. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/26/2012

ISBN: 978-1-45209-780-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4678-9534-7 (ebk)

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CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

About the Author

Chapter One

It was a chilly Saturday before Christmas and after completing a flurry of last minute shopping in town with my mother, I headed home to settle in for the evening feeling relieved that finally all the presents had been bought.

I placed the gifts on the sofa ready to wrap later and walked through to the kitchen, putting the brie, salad and bacon away in the fridge, and then reached for an opened bottle of Australian Shiraz that had been left on the work surface, and poured myself a glass.

The rain that was forecast to sweep across the south had held off all day, but now, as I peered out of the window I could see black clouds closing in from the north and the last bit of winter sunshine rapidly weakening into a dim December light.

Caught in a brooding moment by a season that flickered with poignant memories, I experienced again how the rays of light throughout different months could trigger powerful emotions from the past, sometimes provoking a deep longing - but a yearning for what? I wasn’t sure. It was as if I was being enticed to find out something emotionally charged, but unable to disentangle the clues, or, to my increasing frustration, unable to know what I was to discover.

I continued to gaze at the threatening clouds through the kitchen window. The winter radiance was dying and it seemed again that something much stronger than me was travelling from the north to close down the sun and switch off the day before I was ready to say goodbye.

I remained at the window, taking sips from the last of the red wine I had opened with Kate, the day before. We had booked supper in one of the newly opened restaurants in the market square, and afterwards I had waved her on her way back to her new husband, where Christmases for her were magical again.

Immersing deeper into a reflective mood I let myself become mesmerised by the last auburn ray of sunshine catching the redness of the brick from the neighbour’s house.

The setting brought back recollections from Crofts Meadow, where, having just watched Luke drive away, I would sit for hours at a time, numb from one of his visits and watching the winter sunlight slide down the neighbour’s house as the afternoon slowly ticked by.

I was motionless. It was like breathing in a distinct cologne that can trigger a memory of someone.

My thoughts haunted me again by the awareness of something that was truly loved, but had been wrenched away and lost forever. Just a brief evocative moment, and then it would be gone, having left senses momentarily intrigued and disturbed but agonisingly wanting more.

I soothed my pain in the toasty oaky warmth of the Shiraz. The more I drank, the more it dulled the ache.

Finally, and slightly subdued by alcohol, my thoughts floated back to when I had been looking for a new home to move to and a new job to start my life over again.

After being with Matt for eleven years and married to him for seven of those years came an acceptance that we could not make things work any longer – it seemed that nothing could be done to rekindle what we once had - too much had happened between us and it was obvious that we would not survive married life together.

I had decided to change my job and temp for a while, looking for new work in the hope that it would change my customary routine and wipe out the disappointment of the past, which was a union that had not profited from eternal love or the joy of children.

Chapter Two

In the first week of September, I had been sent by an employment agency to a company called Blackland for a brief and informal interview.

The office manager, Bernard Greene, had requested temporary cover for the estates office on the ground floor, while the secretary took leave to go on her honeymoon.

Bernard greeted me at reception and led me to a large and airy but messy office on the first floor, where I listened to him tell me about Blackland being a multi-billion international construction company from the Midlands, specialising mainly in road surfacing and quarrying, with regional offices scattered throughout the country. The head office for the region, Elling, had its own Managing Director who had autonomy to run the works designated under the southern area, which consisted of the Elling office and southern technical laboratories and quarries, plus sand and gravel sites.

Straight after my interview, I went for lunch with my mother in a despondent mood, telling her I had no interest in joining the company, albeit for only two weeks and two days. It had seemed a quiet and dull place during my meeting. And what could be motivating about a black substance that they put on our roads?

Mum, as always, listened to my woes, but gently encouraged me to give it a go.

‘You never know, you might like it.’

‘But it’s so quiet and dreary. I only saw four people the whole time I was there.’

‘Sarah, it’s only for two and a half weeks. It will do you good to get away from everything at home. It’ll be a distraction. You’ll have to learn new ways of working so your mind will be occupied with that. This is an opportunity for you. It’s only a couple of weeks, but it may lead to something more. You need to meet new people and give yourself a chance. Your marriage has made you unhappy for a long time now, put your head up and look forward.’

Of course she was right, but I couldn’t see beyond the imagined boredom and quiet lengthy days in surroundings that desperately needed updating.

We finished lunch, but my frame of mind was still that I didn’t care whether I was placed there or not and when the agency called later that afternoon to say I had the assignment, I called Bernard to politely thank him, but inside I was totally uninterested and disappointed that I would have to get through the next two weeks with total strangers, and most likely, have to prove myself to be able to do everything they asked of me within the first day. With temps it was easy come, easy go. If you didn’t ‘cut it’ you were out, so if you had pride in your work, the pressure was on.

It didn’t take me long to realise how wrong I had been about my first impression of a piece of England’s finest tucked away within a slightly run-down building in a small market town.

During my first morning, I was shown to my workstation in the estates department. My desk was situated directly outside the manager’s office and alongside a department of surveyors, CAD operators and administrators.

The work landed on my desk almost immediately. Mainly typing long wordy reports, following surveyors’ visits to green and brown field sites and notes taken at local council planning meetings. In addition, my remit was to produce typed versions of correspondence to landowners regarding forthcoming, existing or expiring leaseholds, adding lengthy associated file notes that had to be typed from scrawling notes and promptly returned to the author. But most importantly, and to my relief and delight, all pretty interesting and varied in content.

The phone on my desk rang continually with surveyors and the newly placed and newly qualified archaeologist, who transferred from a Blackland site in Wiltshire.

At the time, one of the current projects was based on a local area of farming land. This site was under extensive examination to see if it was a feasible development site for quarrying. A great deal of preliminary work had to be carried out before any planning applications could be considered or submitted. It had been documented that archaeological remains must be present on this particular site and the correspondence for one such opportunity was starting to generate a huge and interesting file.

I began to feel lucky to have stumbled on, rather than have pursued, an excellent temporary appointment. The workforce also created an atmosphere of well-being and ease that generated a vibrant environment. The people were attractive and sociable, but with these assets, they were curiously understated. Their surroundings were basic and, in places, downright drab, but it worked – the staff were happy and the work rate was high.

It was fun to see a new person settle in after me. The staff made it easy for him, with each manager in turn arriving at his desk to personally welcome him on-board. His name was Mark, a young post-graduate who had transferred from Lockmarston. He returned the gestures of warmth by offering to make everyone coffee more than he needed to and soon set the tone with his enthusiastic working prowess, which became slightly inhibited by his awful lack of memory for ‘trivial’ information like colleagues’ names. When he made these faux pas, the recipient of his intended charm would smile kindly and carry on without correcting him. I observed and imitated my colleagues when he did the same to me, slightly concerned that he was going to get into a terrible muddle and almost certainly connect the wrong people to the wrong working assignments. But, I wanted to fit in, so said nothing, watching as this young man’s office transformed almost overnight from a basic grey shell consisting of a desk, phone and filing cabinets, into an adorned fossil filled study. There were framed pictures of him standing next to various odd shapes that had been dug out of the ground and bones that must have been absolutely thrilling to discover from the beaming grins in each picture. He used a brass spotlight that was always switched on and focused on his blotter, which eradicated the need for the florescent overhead lights that he argued, didn’t meet health and safety regulations. His cabinets were covered with thick encyclopaedias and archaeological references, therefore managing to create an ambience of his own, giving the impression he had been working there for a very long time. Whenever I took papers to him, I scrutinised his ancient treasures placed artistically around his office, but in the end gave up trying to evoke a similar joy. I couldn’t associate the fossils with anything other than odd shaped rocks.

While seated at my desk, I prioritised the bulk of paperwork that had been placed there and left in a heap and thought about starting with the most easily readable handwriting, but that would cause avoidable delays and confuse a chronological return, so checking the handwritten dates at the top of the reports, I set about it.

Normally typing what someone else had dictated would have bored me to tears and though I could usually type faster than most of my counterparts, it was rare for me to be actually interested in the content. So, to create my own entertainment, I would see how fast I could wade through the words to generate some form of minor excitement and beat the clock I set myself against. Though, to my surpise, this workload proved to be varied and interesting and unlike any other work I had been involved with previously. I found that I wanted to know more and more about the projects that this company dealt with. It meant the return of work slowed slightly, but a different kind of enjoyment started to creep in.

This was a new experience for me. Work had always been a way of earning money. I had not considered that I could contribute more than simply aid someone else’s chosen profession, despite my school’s PE teacher relentlessly encouraging me to follow a career in physical education because she felt that I had a unique ability to coach and counsel. I did enjoy most sports, and was voted captain of all the winter and summer sporting and house activities throughout my school years, which had not been achieved by anyone else before me. But I refused to pursue, or even contemplate a profession in teaching physical education, believing I would fail, or wouldn’t fit in with a studious world that seemed to be geared to the auspicious, or those with enviable confidence. I wanted to have children of my own and live quietly in the country somewhere with a man who would love us. Maybe own a dog or a cat and a small piece of land where we could keep a goat, chickens and grow our own vegetables. I would plant fruit trees and every autumn harvest for the winter. Cherry trees would burst into soft pink blooms each spring and deep ruby reds in the autumn. I would have a sense of belonging and a homely dwelling filled with happiness.

Because of the sudden boost in my spirits due to the pleasure Blackland and its staff brought to my life, I sensed an up-surging change around me and thought about Kay, a local psychic who, among other things, continually told me to think of a manager whose work interested me, insisting I would be capable of the same in the future. I glanced across the office and thought of my manager in the estates department - Kay was always so adamant about my potential, that it made me laugh at the prospect. That kind of feedback would normally disappoint me. I preferred to be told that I would meet the right person, be loved, and live a happy and content life – I didn’t care about a career! But she was always so insistent.

I’d been going to see her since I was twenty-one. It was after my sister, Ruth, had met her and passed on to me how Kay had described our grandmother’s herb garden, with the willow tree to the side of the house and the memories it held that made my skin tingle and my curiosity in the mysterious realm of the spiritual world soar.

I sat for a while and pondered my situation. Interest in the unknown started to get the better of me again. I hadn’t seen her for a while, so when things settled down I dialled her number and made an appointment to visit her that evening. I seemed to be turning a corner at last. I felt different and it would be a good time to hear what she had to say about my pending separation.

I set off straight after work and pulled up outside her neat bungalow with its tidy front lawn on the brow of a hill overlooking Elling. I had to enter round the side, ring the doorbell at the kitchen door and walk to the end of the path where Kay would welcome me behind her wrought iron gate and let me in through her conservatory to the dining room.

‘Hello dear, come in. It’s nice to see you again.’ She showed me in and offered me a seat.

The peace and goodwill I always felt from being in her home came over me and I became completely relaxed.

The room, as always, was warm and comfortable. It was early evening and the low September shafts of sunlight stretched to where we would be sitting, catching on its way crystals on a highly polished sideboard that caused tiny explosions of light and energy around the space we were in. It was intriguing and a little magical.

Pointing to one of her dining room chairs, she smiled warmly,

‘Sit down, that’s it.’

She was a dear lady, tall and slender, who must have been willowy and attractive in her heyday. She was now probably in her seventies and had possessed incredible insight and accuracy about occurrences in my life so far. I would continually reason with myself whenever I met her, thinking that if she said enough she would touch on something relevant. But, without a doubt she always went straight to the issue I was either struggling with or excited about in my life at the time. She didn’t skirt around everyday life issues or probe for clues. In fact, if I said very much at all she told me to stop. She asked that my only contribution should be ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

‘Now, let me see. I’ll just sit here quietly for a moment. You know the way I work, just say ‘yes’ or ‘no’, don’t give me any other information.’

I settled down and waited for Kay to speak. She closed her eyes and clasped her hands together in her lap. She was quiet for a short while. Then opened her eyes and began to speak to me.

‘Have you changed your job recently?’

‘Yes’

‘You will be offered something more - a better position of responsibility, better than you’ve had before - more money – stability. You will be very pleased with the offer. For some reason it’s significant who makes this offer possible.’

I tilted my head in acknowledgement.

‘Your mother is worried about you because you are unsettled. There is happiness to be had and it’s not far away.’

She closed her eyes and dropped her head downwards slowly.

‘There is someone at work who likes you – he has his eye on you. If you gave him encouragement he would step forward and ask to see more of you.’

‘Really?’

‘I can see someone who has a nice smile. You like his smile – someone who cares for you a great deal.’

My eyebrows rose. ‘I’m not sure who that is. My marriage is ending, but there’s no-one else.’

‘Don’t tell me anymore, dear.’

She closed her eyes again.

‘Your relationship at present leaves you without comfort. He is a good man, but will not show his true feelings.

You will enjoy looking after yourself. Money will be tight, but you need this time to heal and rest.’

‘Yes.’

‘His family live very close to you. This is not a good thing.’

She opened her eyes. Her expression kind as always.

‘You will travel to Australia…, a partner will be involved.

You will not walk this earth alone, there is someone for you and you will be happy.’

‘Okay.’ I nodded and smiled at her. She closed her eyes again.

‘When you are content in life you will think about doing the kind of work I do.’

I didn’t respond or nod, unable to imagine such a thing.

‘You won’t have a problem carrying a child…, they are there to be born to you.

You have a good presence around you. When you come into my house, your aura is lovely. If you were my age I’d like you as a friend.’

Returning the compliment I told her that I always sensed peace when with her.

She nodded ‘Thank you, dear. That’s because you are spiritually enhanced, you pick up things very easily.’

Kay opened her eyes for the last time indicating the reading was coming to an end and unclasped her hands.

We chatted a little longer while she entered my name into her book of prayers like she always did. Afterwards I left, feeling everything was going to be okay, though I couldn’t imagine how or when, but everything will be okay.

And I suppose that’s what I paid for – for someone to tell me life was going to be good when things got tough.

Back at work, friendships grew with my colleagues and even the drab old building was beginning to have its unique charm.

As the days went by I easily managed to clear the heavy flow of work that came my way. Hard graft by the department was interspersed with prolific humour, teamwork and a genuine, seemingly unconditional friendliness that I had craved all my life but rarely found.

I began to understand the company’s contribution to local communities, important archaeological finds, wildlife and the burden of acquiring new business for, at times, controversial road structures that were desperately needed in our times but vigorously opposed by some people. I became aware that those people were referred to as NIMBY in the business, a acronym for not in my back yard. A term popularised by politicians during the 1980’s. I empathised with those who didn’t want more roads. Creating additional, or widening existing infrastructures ,is based on the concern about traffic volume but it doesn’t address and then reduce the amount of vehicles building up congestion on our highways. However, with safety in mind, statistics state that motorways are the safest roads and people want and need to be connected to amenities, plus free-flowing traffic sheds less pollution than vehicles caught in traffic jams and moving slowly.

The company’s dedication to returning quarries, or excavated sites that had expired leaseholds, to the countryside was inspiring and indisputable in its attention and dedication to the history of the land. They really did listen and act on the wishes of the local community, creating wildlife sanctuaries and scenic areas of beauty once the land was transformed and then released back from quarrying.

My interest grew by the day. It was becoming a wonderful unanticipated tonic to replace the tension and strains at home. Nevertheless, my two and half weeks were nearly up and thoughts of leaving filled me with sadness.

My manager was impressed with the speed with which I could return his reports, neatly typed and carefully coded to link with volumes of archaeological information or hotly debated council meetings. His messages were timed, dated and left chronologically on his blotter, with the more urgent matters conveyed to him on his mobile while he was out of the office. The paper trail was enormous because of the legal aspects to the work and all incoming and outgoing mail had to be logged with the writer’s reference, date and subject of correspondence.

I kept the filing cleared every two days so the secretary would not return to a depressing mound to put away. I was appreciated and was told how well I had covered for their member of staff, and it was acknowledged that I had had little time to get to know the industry or its workings. I felt useful and capable, and those around me started to look forward to my arrival each morning, which in turn made me bounce out of bed at the start of the day and arrive much earlier than I needed to.

I fell in love with the place and its people and was overjoyed when the opportunity to stay longer was offered to me by Bernard, who suggested that, if I was in agreement, my temporary term would be extended for the duration of another secretary’s maternity leave. This would mean a change of manager on 3 October.

There were quite a few managers based in Elling and I hadn’t met them all so I still wasn’t sure exactly who it would be, only that he worked on the first floor. I thought of the person I had seen during my first week at Blackland, when a tall statuesque man walked past me on the stairs displaying an unabashed look of curiosity in me. He said a warm ‘hello’ and stood back on the stairwell to let me pass. As I approached the space he had made for me, I glanced at him and realised that we were linked in some inexplicable way.

I nodded and said ‘hello’, like someone does when they are greeting a person they have not been formally introduced to. I didn’t know whether to be excited or threatened by the sensation that sparked within me. I’d never met nor seen him in the past, but I had a deep mystifying sense of knowing him.

I heard someone further down the corridor call him Luke and an unnerving awareness of instant affection came over me when I listened to him reply… his voice was familiar and it made my heart skip a beat.

I slowly returned downstairs experiencing an intimidating sensation of apprehension and uncertainty. I tried to understand what had just happened, but couldn’t. I wanted to go back and find him, but knew that was a silly idea.

I thought of my next task, though work endeavours paled. My core existence had been ignited and something deep within me had been drawn to him.

I rocked from pessimism to optimism and unexpectedly felt heady with hope for something good to happen. My failure to be calm and logical reared its head once more as a voice from somewhere was telling me our paths had crossed, as they were intended to and this man, named Luke, was accelerating along this invisible path towards me.

Over the next few days, I kept myself busy, enjoying the camaraderie in the office and producing a steady output of work. But I remained curious about who Luke was and did not stop thinking about him from the moment we crossed on the stairs.

Chapter Three

During the next two weeks, and following the last six weeks of searching, I was lucky enough to find a pretty terraced cottage to rent in a village nestled in the Springbourne valley and only nine miles from town.

Renting would be a quicker solution, and then, when I had got over the initial separation I would look for a house to buy.

The cottage was built in a small cul-de-sac called Apple Orchard and was full of pretty trees and shrubs. Various fruit trees lined the small winding road to the dwelling that I had chosen to live in. The agent leasing the property told me that many years ago the land had belonged to the old sprawling house at the road turning before the owner sold a corner of its land to a developer. He had made a proviso that a primary school for the children of the village must be erected first and before any construction of the planned five cottages could begin. It was a perfect location for children to experience their first school days.

I wondered what drop off and pick up times would be like, but it did not deter my wish to also experience the beauty of this part of the county and put my roots down for a period of my life.

I collected the keys on the Thursday and two days later my father and a family friend helped me move in, which meant that I was able to spend the first day of October in my new home.

To the side of the cottage a walkway had been created as a shortcut to the village shop. Unlike the apple trees lining the road, it was bordered with pretty cherry trees showing crimson autumnal leaves.

The rolling Downs that surrounded the village were freshly ploughed and adjoining meadows occupied by cattle that led to sprawling paddocks. The paddocks were inhabited with beautifully toned and shiny racehorses that were daily exercised by the local trainers’ stable lads who led these finely tuned animals out at the break of dawn and then again later in the day.

I walked around the rooms of my home, becoming acquainted with newfound liberty in a space that was all mine.

I crouched on the edge of the small two-seater sofa pushed unceremoniously amongst large unpacked cardboard boxes.

I took in the isolation, feeling a little lost and missing my husband’s companionship with his easy-come practicality. I had to work through this feeling and remind myself that I had sacrificed an existence of safety and security for the unknown.

Despite the sadness of parting and the wrench from a secure home, I also felt confident for my future. It was like life had not ended, it was just beginning.

After being unhappy for so long, it was an unexpected pleasure to experience and apart from feeling scared of being alone, which I had anticipated, my confidence had already improved and I knew I was doing the right thing. I had also had my temporary employment extended and the worry of paying the rent put off for a few more months.

Wondering what I should tackle next, I soon became aware of an unbridled sense of hope and an anticipation of future happiness.

The whole house