Falling: The Complete Angels Among Us Series

“No, I’m on the outskirts of Paris. I’m working on some legal documents at the moment,” she answers with concern in her voice. “You aren’t okay, are you?”

“My life is falling apart. I’ve walked out on my job and Alex has disappeared.”

“What the heck… look, if you can hang on for twenty-four hours a colleague of mine is leaving the UK tomorrow for an evening tunnel crossing. He’s taking over the case I’m working on while I’m on a week’s leave. I’ll contact him, I’m sure he won’t mind having someone along for the journey. Don’t switch your phone off and pack enough for at least a week.” The line disconnects and I throw myself on the bed, absolutely distraught at how quickly things can go from bad to worse.

Alex doesn’t answer his phone and I give myself a deadline. If I can’t contact him before my lift arrives tomorrow afternoon, then I will take that as a sign. I won’t lay bare my heart for a man who believes I’m throwing myself at him. At least I can make common-sense out of Mason’s outburst. He thought I’d do anything for a promotion and at least he has a reason to be bitter, even if it’s totally unreasonable. But Alex knows I’m not a bad person and I don’t throw myself at men. He’s the only one night stand I’ve ever had and I’ve only slept with two men before him. Both were relationships that, at the time, I felt might go somewhere. But I was rather naïve and assumed anyone who cared enough to sleep with me would understand the sensitive side of my nature. That wasn’t the case.

***

“I can’t believe he said that to you,” Sheena sounds angry on my behalf. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

I can’t help but defend him, even though I’m hurt. “There’s something not right Sheena. Alex is usually such a sensitive guy. Maybe he started to feel something for me and then felt guilty about this person he says he loves. It’s painful when you offer your heart to someone and they reject you. I know that for a fact.”

Sheena puts an arm around my shoulder and squeezes.

“Whatever, Ceri. You still don’t deserve to be treated that way. Mason is another story of course and you can’t get hung up on that. But Alex, well, I’m surprised and very sorry it should turn out this way.”

I take a few deep breaths, determined that I’m not going to start crying again.

“What can I do? I have to work today and tomorrow, but after that we can head off to one of the small towns on the north coast. There are some lovely beaches and we can do some walking, blow away those cobwebs.” Sheena pushes away the hair that’s fallen over my cheek. “I am so sorry my darling girl, you don’t deserve this and I won’t let him make you feel you are a victim. If he has a problem then he has to deal with it. You’ve been through enough already.”

I lean against the pillows on the bed, watching Sheena as she heads for the door. “I’ll be back before you know it. Ring down for room service, the menu is on the table. Try to rest. There are a couple of books in my suitcase if you want to read.”

As the door closes behind her I turn on my side and let the tears flow. I love you, Alex, and I know you are the one. Where are my angels? Why aren’t you here when I need you?

It’s the last thing in my head before I drift off into a deep and uneasy sleep.

Alex (#ulink_d42748af-8ab8-50f7-874d-fd62a4eb14d3)

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_d42748af-8ab8-50f7-874d-fd62a4eb14d3)

Alone (#ulink_d42748af-8ab8-50f7-874d-fd62a4eb14d3)

I pop another pill, washing it down with a swig from the wine glass on the floor next to the bed. The room looks like a tornado has hit it; I roll over and sink into a deep sleep.

Ceri is there, slumped against a low wall, resting. Maybe she’s observing one of her angels. The wind is playing with her hair, but she’s oblivious to it whipping around in front of her face. She isn’t moving and I realise her hands are almost blue with cold. My senses are screaming that something is wrong. She’s dead. I cry out her name but then sleep claims me again, which doesn’t make sense. I feel awake, if not alert, and I struggle to raise my level of consciousness to that place where I can make sense of what’s happening.

“It’s wrong, you know that. You shouldn’t get involved and you need to back off.” The voice is either above or behind me, I can’t tell, and there is no physical presence attached to it. Is this all in my mind or is it a part of my dream? I’m trying to find Ceri, but I can’t see her now. Is she alright? Is she alone? Why do I feel a terrible sense of emptiness? I need you Ceri, where are you?

***

Mason looks up, surprised to see me. “You’re fired,” he utters, barely able to look me in the face.

“I know; if I wasn’t, I’d quit anyway. You’re a piece of work, Mason, but I doubt anyone has the balls to tell you that to your face. Do you know where Ceri is?” It’s not so much a question, more of a demand.

“I have no idea, she’s fired too.”

“Well that’s good news then.” I throw the words over my shoulder on my way out of the door.

No one in the office seems to know anything at all about where Ceri might be. I’ve been to her apartment a dozen times and there’s no sign of anyone being there for the last few days. I’ve left a dozen messages on her mobile and put two letters through her door begging her to give me a call and let me explain. But what can I tell her? That for some reason I can’t be with her and I don’t know why? It doesn’t make sense to me and it won’t make sense to her.

The dreams are getting worse and every one is a warning. Something is telling me that I’m a danger to Ceri for some reason. That’s why I have to keep away, but I can’t. I’ve tried and it doesn’t work, I keep getting drawn back because something here, deep inside of me, needs to be with her. I thought it was working, keeping my distance while being there for her, but look at the mess I made of things. Now she’s run off, thinking I’m blaming her when really I’m blaming myself.

I decide to look up the author of the book Ceri lent me, Living with Angels by Ethan Morris. I put his name into the search engine and immediately the page fills up with articles. He’s written over a dozen books on a wide range of subjects, but everything is related to angels or mediumship. There’s a contact page on his website, so I type in a short message

My name is Alex Delano. I need to talk to someone about a friend. She sees angels. I’ve read your book, Living with Angels, and I have a few questions. I’m desperate to find some answers. You can reach me on this email address. If I can book a one-to-one session that would be great, but even to chat via email would really help. Thank you.

The next thing I need to do is look for another job. Heck, how did I manage to screw everything up so badly? What hurts the most is that I don’t know where Ceri is or whether she’s safe. She will be hurting and all I can do is wait for her to get in touch with me. I think of all the desperate voicemail messages on my phone the day she left, and where was I? Pathetically prostrate in bed, full of pills and out of it. No wonder she won’t answer my calls now, she thinks I used her and then walked away.

***

“Thank you for agreeing to talk to me Mr Morris, I’ll be brief.” After speaking to his assistant and reassuring him that I wasn’t a reporter or a stalker, he agreed to pass on my message. Within three hours I receive a personal email from Ethan Morris with his phone number and a message to call him at eight o’clock. Ceri has been gone for two whole weeks.

***

“Please, call me Ethan. I’m intrigued. You say you’ve read Living with Angels because you have a friend who has experienced seeing them. Tell me more.”

He sounds ordinary, I can’t tell what age, but from the bio photo on the back of the book I’d say he was in his early forties. I run a few of Ceri’s experiences past him, trying to recall them in detail and careful not to add to what Ceri told me. I can hear her voice in my head, that night when we told each other everything. Well, almost everything.

“Have you witnessed any of this?”

I concentrate, my mind replaying conversations full of emotion. I realise the answer is that I’ve never witnessed anything paranormal. I wonder if that will put Ethan off. “No, but her brother has seen some of the weird things that have happened. They are non-identical twins: Ceri was delivered a few minutes before her brother.”

He listens and asks questions, some I can answer and some I can’t. I can only repeat what I know.

“Well, it’s not unusual, although you might find that hard to believe. The truly difficult part is getting your head around the fact that this life is only one small part of our existence.”

I don’t know what to say. I’ve read several different theories but he clearly has no doubts whatsoever. Was I expecting him to be a little less forceful, maybe?

“I’m way out of my depth here but I really need to understand a bit more about angels and why Ceri should have been singled out. Why do they present themselves to her and why is it someone different every time?”

“I doubt that what she sees is an actual angel, it’s more likely to be a spirit helper or guide who has been sent to assist. Sometimes things go a little off course, shall we say. One tiny moment can send life spinning off in the wrong direction. For instance, near-death experiences caused by a genuine mistake or when it isn’t someone’s time to pass over but an unexpected turn of events means that they touch ‘the path’ of transition. The spirits on the other side will encourage them to turn back. Occasionally it can take a little persuasion because the experience can be uplifting. They glimpse a life that exists outside of this one, which is more peaceful and comforting. Much of what happens is forgotten, wiped from the memory. In theory we are supposed to have no recollection of what occurs when our energy slips outside of our body. You might have heard about astral travelling. Only higher evolved souls will remember their journeys. Few will repeat the details, unless they have been given permission to share something for the development of another soul. Someone sent here for a specific purpose.”

“I think you need to point me in the direction of some more reading. When you talk about astral travelling, is it linked in any way to our dreams?”

“It can be. Someone with less experience might interpret an out of body experience as being merely a dream. We all visit the other side during our sleep, but it’s rare to be able to recall what happens. There is a code and the whole point is that the planes are kept separate. There would be no point in having an earthly life if it wasn’t necessary for the development of the astral plane. Does Ceri experience this type of dream?”

“I have no idea, but since I met Ceri I’ve had problems with some graphic dreams. They are always very similar and seem to be telling me that I’m endangering her in some way. What’s crazy is that I only want her to be happy and safe.”

“Look Alex, I think we should meet up. I’m back in the UK at the beginning of next week and I’m doing a talk in London. Would you be able to come along? I’ll arrange for us to have a chat in private afterwards.”

“I’d be delighted, that’s very kind of you.”

“I’ll have my assistant email you the details of the venue. I must admit I’m rather intrigued by your story. It’s unusual for one person to be affected by the sensitivity of another, when they exhibited no such traits beforehand. I doubt there’s any danger, only lower entities cause mischief and they don’t have enough power to do anything really menacing, despite popular theory. It’s more down to the mind blowing a small thing out of proportion: people have a tendency to fear the unknown, even when there isn’t really anything to fear at all.”

“Well, I’ll be interested to meet up with you and thanks for your time. I really appreciate it.”

“I thrive on the unusual, so for me something that doesn’t quite fit is a way of expanding my understanding. Gifts of insight are given for a reason. We’re either here to learn or to help. It’s been my pleasure. Before you go, can I ask you to begin making notes whenever you have a dream that you can remember afterwards. It might explain a few things.”