Chapters (50)
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication Page
- Contents
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Ninteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Epilogue
- Letter From the Author
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
‘This is a very generalised interpretation, you understand. I could go into far more detail.’
I shook my head. ‘Is it all negative?’
His mouth twitched. ‘No. Not all. There’s pink there too. The pale pink of love and the more vivid pink of sexual desire.’
I nodded.
‘But there’s something else . . . The spirit that has attached itself to you . . . It communicated with me. Showed me a vision. A woman, a woman who is obsessed with you, who believes what she feels to be love. The spirit is acting out her desires, causing havoc, what it sees as mischief.’
I studied him. I wasn’t sure if he believed all this stuff or if it was a deliberate con. If the latter, what was he trying to get out of me? I guessed he would offer me more sessions, help to deal with the negative energy and the dark spirit, at which point he would charge me. Such help wouldn’t come cheap. If it was a con, he was an excellent actor, because he appeared genuinely disturbed and shaken. So perhaps he was genuine, but anyone could have guessed my state of mind. We had met when I’d come here asking about a dead woman. This wasn’t rocket science. The very fact, though, that he had lasered in on my biggest concern, my current obsession, made me feel cold and uneasy.
‘There’s a cord hooked to your crown,’ Harold said, pointing towards the top of my head. ‘It’s draining your life force.’
‘What do you suggest I do?’ I asked, my voice still a whisper.
‘I should do a cord cutting. It’s not as alarming as it sounds.’
‘No.’ I really didn’t want to get involved in any of this. I felt like I was having to turn down a persistent salesman. ‘I don’t really believe in this stuff.’
He looked at my harshly. ‘Then all I can suggest is that you stay away from this woman.’
On the rug, the dog stretched and yawned, breaking the spell.
‘I need to go,’ I said.
He seemed terribly disappointed. As I headed for the door he said, ‘You came here to ask me something?’
In my eagerness to get out – away from the images he had, despite my efforts, implanted in my head – I had almost forgotten why I’d come here.
‘Oh, yes. Of course.’
I showed him my phone, a recent photo of Charlie on the screen, smiling at the camera.
‘Is this your girlfriend?’ Harold asked.
‘Yes. Have you ever seen her near here?’