was asleep on their sofa. It was the only way that they agreed to go to bed, knowing that he was there keeping guard. He had left shortly after she told the kids about Rachel Finch, to go into the office. She wasn’t sure what time he came home at, but she figured it was late as she had only gone to bed a little after 2am. She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Coffee was badly needed.
She knew that she drank too much of it, but it was a habit that she found impossible to break. She sat down at the kitchen table and looked out her window. It was beautiful out there, a gentle light mist hovering over the hills and trees. She had the most amazing view from her kitchen; she still got pleasure from it even though she’d looked at the same view every day for over eight years.
Memories of loud family breakfasts popped into her mind.
Paul and her laughing together at something funny Tommy or Katie had said. Stealing a kiss in between the demands of ‘pour me a juice!’ from the children. And laughter, always laughter. She tried to pinpoint when it was that Paul had stopped having breakfast with them. Last year? Two years ago? He now favoured grabbing a latte and croissant each morning in a deli close to his office. Once again she started to feel panic bubble up inside her as the realisation that her marriage had been in trouble for some time hit her smack in her face.
Sighing, she closed her mind to Paul because she had to. And try as she might, she just couldn’t stop her mind drifting back to Joey. She shuddered as she remembered how he’d looked as he kicked the chair from under his feet and allowed himself to drop. He was a man who had just given up and looked so lost. She tried to think of the right word to describe what she had witnessed.
‘Sorrowful.’ She said out loud. Yes, that was the word alright. Joey was sorrowful.
How awful to think that the only option you felt you had was to end your life? Sarah wrapped her dressing gown around herself even more tightly, feeling cold again.
Taking a sip from her coffee, she suddenly felt a presence beside her. Sitting opposite her was Edward. ‘You’re up early, Sarah.’
‘I couldn’t sleep.’ Sarah answered. ‘Bad dream. I’ve been getting a few of them lately.’
He nodded not looking in the slightest bit surprised to hear that. ‘Tell me about it.’ He replied.
‘Why?’ Sarah said belligerently. She really wasn’t in the mood for an evasive and unsatisfactory conversation with Edward. It was early, she was cold, and she couldn’t justify putting the heating on just yet. She had just paid €500 for a full tank of oil and she really needed that to last till Christmas. Pulling her dressing gown tight around her once more, she felt an urge to stick her tongue out at Edward, like she used to do as a child.
Instead she answered him. ‘Ok, Ok, you want to know about my dream? Well, it was about my postman. He committed suicide, hung himself. Now you know, does that make you happy?’ She shivered again, though this time not with the cold.
‘No, that makes me feel sad, Sarah. What do you think it means?’ Edward said.
‘It means that maybe I need to stop eating cheese before I go to bed.’ Sarah answered glibly. Edward smiled again. ‘Funny. Sarah, why do you think you dreamt that Joey committed suicide?’
Sarah shrugged. She really didn’t want to think about it. But try as she could, Joey’s face as he finally realised he was about to die was imprinted in her brain and wouldn’t leave.
‘You obviously know what it means.’ Sarah said to him. ‘So can’t you just tell me?’
Edward smiled that same smile again; it was beginning to drive Sarah mad. She recognised it, as it was the one she used herself on the children when they were desperately trying to learn something new, but failing miserably, it was the indulgent smile of a smug parent. Right now it irritated the shit out of her.
She hated mornings, more importantly she hated early mornings, disturbed by psychic dreams and early cups of coffees with angels. She felt justified in her bad mood.
‘Totally justified.’ Edward said smiling that annoying smile again.
‘How do you do that?’ Sarah demanded crossly. He had always been able to read her mind. When she was a child she’d play a game with him and get him to say out loud the thing she was thinking about. She’d loved that game and played it for hours, much to James’s annoyance, when he wanted her to go outside and play. She realised she was now smiling, at the memory.
‘It wasn’t all bad when I was around?’ Edward asked, this time an earnest look on his face.
‘No Edward. It wasn’t all bad at all. In fact I had some great times with you. It was the stuff that came after I told Mam and Daddy about you that wasn’t fun.’
‘They just didn’t understand, Sarah. And when people don’t understand something they get scared. And when people are scared they can act irrationally.’
‘Maybe.’ Sarah said noncommittally. She had children herself now and often asked herself how she would handle something similar. And she knew that no matter what she would be on their side. She had made that vow the day she found out that she was expecting Tommy. She had promised her unborn child that she would do better than her parents had done for her.
‘I get that they were scared. I get that they didn’t understand. But they didn’t try very hard. They didn’t talk to me or more importantly, they didn’t listen to me.’ Sarah said with regret.
Edward nodded.
‘I’ve thought a lot about this, Edward, in particular since I’ve had children of my own. All a child wants is to be loved, to feel loved and safe. When Tommy was a small baby, Paul and I used to sit for hours watching him sleep. And we would worry about his future. We’d talk about everything we could do to protect him from the bad stuff life can throw at you! I always said to Paul, that it was our duty to not only love our children, but to also make sure that they know they have a safe place to fall if they need to. Paul had that with his parents, he was lucky, but I didn’t. I still don’t. They couldn’t handle the fact that their daughter was different. So they tried to force me to change who I was. I mean what kind of parent has their child committed for fecks sake?’
Sarah shuddered as she remembered that bleak time in her life.
‘I’ll never forget that day. I was terrified. I begged them to take me home. Poor James was in tears too. He was devastated that I was taken from him. We’d never been apart until that day.’
Sarah closed her eyes, hoping that by doing so she could close her mind to the bad memory.
‘They found it easier to believe you were crazy, than to believe that you could talk to angels Sarah. They made a mistake, but for what it’s worth, they have never forgiven themselves for doing that to you.’ Edward replied.
Sarah shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I’m not sure I buy that. They’ve always been so cold towards me. They treat me very differently to how they treat James. Him, he’s the golden boy. Me, I’m the mad daughter that they are so ashamed of.’
‘It’s complicated Sarah. For some people, when they have guilt, they put a barrier up around themselves rather than to confront the guilt and accept responsibility for their own mistakes. Have you ever considered that maybe your parents find it hard to look at you sometimes because it reminds them of a time they are ashamed of?’ Edward asked gently.
Sarah knew that what Edward said had an element of truth to it. She felt their guilt sometimes when she was with them. They could hardly look her in the eye when they visited, the annual, once a year visit that is. You’d swear they lived a million miles away, not less than ten miles. But she didn’t have time to analyse her parents right now. The dream, try as she may to forget it, meant something.
‘Ok, so is my gift to dream about things that have already happened or are about to happen? Sarah asked him.
‘You know the answer to that already.’ Edward replied.