Cassandra's Soul

By Angela B. Mortimer

Cassandra is fey and her relatives accept it, as she isn’t the only one in her family to be different. She has a happy way of life with her Oxford-educated partner, and they move to both the US and Australia. But they know they must travel back to look after husband Nick’s elderly mother and father. His parents die before he can return to his Associate Professorship at his first university. Then as they prepare to return for good, he loses his life in a road traffic accident.
Cassandra knows she has to go home for her children want to study in the UK. She settles in her much-loved in-law's house in Oxford. Nevertheless, she can’t forget her most serious mystic experience on the prehistoric mound, the Giant’s Apron, close to Rhosneigr in Anglesey. She trained as an artist and longs to find peace to paint. The only place that gives her tranquillity is where she spent many holidays as a child. Here in Wales, the ancient land of the ancestors, her soul calls her back and she answers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angela B. Mortimer
• Release date: Mar 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463834992

Angela B. Mortimer

Born in the UK, married a gorgeous Aussie and have been living happily here ever since. Attended West of England college of art. Love reading sci-fi, fantasy and my fav subjects like genetics, planet sciences, philosophy, history - especially ancient, and of course space. I dreamt of being an astronaut. I've been writing since I could and painting for as long.I love the outdoors and gazing at the stars and wondering what might be out there.

Book preview

Chapter 1

It was a perfect day for early May; the sun shone with that late spring sharpness, edging into summer’s glow. Cassandra missed the way the sunlight moved here when living overseas. Funny, she mused, how you don’t miss the small nuances until you return. Even the usual cold sea breeze had ceased. But soon it’d blow again, and remind her who was in charge, and it wasn’t Cassandra Chadstone.

‘Cassie, remember that holiday when grandma and grandad insisted we come for a week in the summer holidays?’ Cousin Louise enjoyed the view too and relived memories of the frequent times they had joined their grandparents for their yearly fortnight in their friend’s holiday home. ‘Auntie Pamela was appalled she wasn’t in a five-star hotel in the Caribbean.’

Cassandra nodded and grinned. ‘And our dads took the eldest boys to the campsite to sleep in a tent. There was a storm and the tent was ruined, so the living room was full of sleeping bags, and she was so put out she made Uncle Francis leave.’

‘Yes, she was such an idiot, it relieved us when she left him for that rich old man, who didn’t stay around for long,’ she giggled. ‘Uncle Francis’ girlfriend is very different.’

‘Pam soon found another rich man, didn’t she Lou?’

‘According to Sarah, he’s gone too.’

The mention of their cousin’s name, the daughter of the infamous Pam, brought them back to the subject of why Cassandra was so obsessed with the ancient mound.

‘Have I done the right thing?’

‘Do you mean buying the house next door but one to Lacey’s old place – the one our family borrowed for those holidays we can’t seem to forget?’

‘For starters, you are the only person I ever tell my secrets to, so yes.’

There was silence as they each explored different memories. Cassandra, widowed for two years, had given up her home in Australia to come back to England. Even with her best friend and cousin, Louise, she hadn’t yet discussed her reasons for coming back. Louise knew more about Cassandra than anyone else in the family, and buying the house on the seashore where they had such happy memories cemented her suspicions. Her phone rang. She answered it and then turned to Cassandra.

‘The boys are having trouble with the wardrobes. You know, flat packs. Garth thinks another three hours at least, and we need to take something back with us for a late lunch.’

Louise was forty-four but her red hair was still her own, and her blue eyes looked with sympathy at her cousin. This was the time for the hard questions.

‘Cassie, you haven’t said yet why you left Melbourne. I loved the place, and your huge house, the shops, the art gallery… the only thing wrong was not enough cosy old pubs. That’s why you came home every second year, not to visit your family but for the taste of a good cider on tap.’ Louise was trying to lighten the atmosphere and it worked; Cassandra smiled.

‘That’s the easy answer – missing the pubs near mum and dad,’ she smiled. ‘But in reality, it was because Mark got into Oxford following his dad’s footsteps and Lily wanted to go to art school here. I told her it’d be hard to translate into a job because I found it tough. How could I stop her? That’s what I did and I never had a proper job.’

Louise smiled too. ‘Rubbish, you taught art!’

‘As a volunteer in Massachusetts, remember how long it took me to get a green card? Just because your husband is an Oxford Professor of Mathematics doesn’t mean you get a free ride. I helped those poor kids, although it did me good and I felt I was contributing. Melbourne was easier, but that was only because of Alex’s contacts. I miss my friends in both places, thank goodness for Skype and FaceTime, but I’m losing those who aren’t tech savvy. So it will be just Christmas cards in a few years, and I’ve lost friends in America and here as well.’

‘Cassandra, this is me you’re talking to. I can tell something’s wrong. Everyone says it’s grief over Alex, but even when he was alive you weren’t completely happy. I realise it wasn’t anything to do with him, and although your Mark is a pain, he’s doing ok now – we’ve discussed that.’

‘No, it wasn’t Alex, he was the best husband, and even if he was twelve years older than me, it never mattered. Mark has inherited his workaholic approach, plus his competitive streak and his intolerance for idiots. He has his bad traits, but not his great ones. Alex never forgot my birthday and he made sure we had memorable holidays together. Mark will grow up a horrible man if he keeps on the road he’s chosen, and worse if he does well, which he will, and I worry for him. It’s so hard without Alex, a raw pain, but things didn’t feel right for a long time before his accident. I didn’t confide in you because I thought that even you, my best friend, would lose patience with me. The truth is I had one of those religious mystic episodes in a church near Florence four years ago. The Full Monty, lights shining out of this priest’s eyes and mouth. I confessed the experience to him: me, the great ‘there has to be more to all this than books written long ago’ researcher. Eventually, it stopped haunting me, I stopped obsessing about it; and then Saron appeared to me in Melbourne. Yes, after convincing myself, it was my artistic temperament and vivid imagination and I wasn’t having ‘Mystic Meg’ crazy visions. Saron comes up alongside me and reminds me once again that she is here for me. It’s about twenty-five years since she first appeared to me on the path to the mound and I can’t forget her. She’s haunted me ever since, and every day I feel her presence.’

‘I know,’ agreed Louise, unsure if Cassandra’s nemesis Saron was a force for good or otherwise.

‘She appears to me whatever part of the world I happen to be in, but why? I spent years searching for her name, or what I assumed to be her name, and eventually, I found it. She wasn’t what I thought she was all these years, a bone dancer of old, but a druid, perhaps killed by the Romans. After that, I thought I’d stop obsessing about her – and then I go and buy this house. I can’t escape her or stay away from this place I have always considered to be home. I know we had the best times here.’ Cassandra paused to gather her thoughts. She could be herself with Louise, but she didn’t want to worry her. ‘Everyone tells me they are here for me. Remember my grandma?’

Louise nodded. Cassandra had told her she saw her grandma standing in the garden after she died. ‘There she was in that funny black hat with two small points and a dark green coat. I remember the hat from some old photos, but not the coat, and she said, I will always look after you. I told mum and dad about it a few years ago and they weren’t the slightest bit surprised. Grandma was from a family who saw and heard weird things. If I’d mentioned it to them when it happened, I might not have spent years worrying about my sanity. I could cope with being four years old and my beautiful, imaginary friend the wolf saying the same thing – I remember telling your dad about him, he was kind and said he understood. It wasn’t easy here in Britain with those unexpected hauntings, for want of a better word. It was easier in America and even better in Australia. There I was free from them for the first time in my life ... and then Saron comes and … ruins it.’

‘I was with you for some of those episodes, and when you say, It’s freezing in here, I know I have to be prepared. Haven’t I made you leave those places more than once?’

‘Yes, you have always been there for me. Thank you. I studied philosophy online with a professor at Oxford. It took my mind off other things and