Secrets & Souls - prequel to The Soul Guide
Chapter 11

Bertram stumbled forward. The door behind him had disappeared and all he could see was a long, white corridor either side of him. He pressed his palms against his eyes and rubbed, hoping that when he opened them he’d replace himself back on the landing.

“That’s not going to work,” said a voice inside his head. A voice that was not his own.

“Who’s that?” Bertram shouted out, startled by the unknown voice. He looked around frantically but only saw miles of corridor that stretched off into the distance.

“I’m a friend. You heard my whistle, and you came. Now, you just need to follow the sound of my voice and we’ll be able to meet at last.”

“You were the one whistling?” Bertram asked, unsure why he was answering back.

“Indeed, that was I. Good, wasn’t it?” the voice said.

“It was alright,” Bertram grumbled, wondering how the hell he’d get out of this corridor and, more importantly, when he should check himself into the funny farm. He wondered at what point he had finally lost his mind. When Mellissa had left? Or before, when she’d arrived? Maybe all of this; Mellissa, Clayhill, this place he stood in now, was all a part of his imagination. Maybe he was lying in some hospital somewhere staring off into nothingness, his mind destroyed by grief at the death of his grandfather. Then he pinched himself, felt the pain and decided that what was happening now had to be real. There was no way he would love a mirage. If Mellissa was real, then so was all of this. However ridiculous it all seemed.

“Were you the one who knocked all the books to the floor in the library as well?”

“No, that wasn’t me. You can blame Clayhill for that one.”

“You talk as though Clayhill is a living thing?”

“Well, why not? It’s a special place, don’t you agree?”

Bertram wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. Clayhill was special. There weren’t many homes that self-filled with food and provisions or had hidden staircases that rose into the sky. He felt as though he were living in the Tardis and he was the Doctor on that TV show Mellissa and he had watched a few times.

“Right now, I need to figure out a way to get back to Clayhill, not think about whether it’s alive or not,” Bertram huffed, annoyed at himself and the voice inside his head.

“Are you kidding? You can’t go back yet. I’ve been waiting quite a while since we last spoke. It’s about time you and I met properly.”

“Last spoke? I know I can be a little forgetful at times, but I think I’d remember the last time I had a conversation with a figment of my imagination.”

“You don’t remember? Well, now I am hurt,” said a voice from behind Bertram. A voice that was no longer inside his head.

“What the bloody hell!” Bertram jumped back, startled by the giant of a man standing beside him.

The man started laughing so hard that his tight, afro curls bounced from the effort. “Oh dear, your face is a picture,” he said, tears of mirth streaming down his cheeks.

Bertram would have given the man a shove if he hadn’t been so… enormous. He was about seven-foot-tall, muscular and had skin the colour of dark chocolate. He was wearing an outfit that Bertram had only ever seen on fishermen. He looked ridiculous.

“Who the hell are you?” Bertram asked, his heart rate slowing to a more comfortable rate now the immediate shock was over. “You nearly gave me a bloody heart attack.”

“I’m sorry,” the man smirked, choking down another laugh. “That was unkind of me. My name is Samuel, but you know this already Bertram.”

“I don’t. I don’t know who you are. We’ve never bet before, and until now the only annoying voice I heard inside my head was my own.”

“OK, so perhaps you don’t remember then. I will remind you,” Samuel said, and before Bertram could react he had placed both hands on either side of Bertram’s face.

“Is this some kind of Vulcan mind meld?” Bertram asked, eyeing Samuel.

Samuel laughed. “I don’t know what that is, but it sure sounds interesting. Hush for a moment and just look at me.”

Bertram stopped fidgeting and did as he was asked. He considered Samuel’s pale green eyes, and within moments a memory feathered into his thoughts. Bertram gasped as Samuel’s hands dropped away.

“You’re that voice.”

“The one and only.”

“When Mellissa and I first met, when she took me to that hall. You spoke to me, didn’t you? I heard your voice inside my head. You showed me this place, you told me to keep it secret. How could I forget that?”

Samuel shrugged. “Perhaps I’m easy to forget? Perhaps you were a little pre-occupied? It doesn’t really matter. You’re here now,” Samuel said, as they approached a door that looked like an oversized ice-cube. Bertram hadn’t even noticed that they’d been walking, much less the door that had suddenly appeared in front of them both.

“Shall we?” Samuel said.

“Shall we what?”

“Go through this door of course.”

Bertram frowned, then grabbed at his keys, one of them was glowing. He was about to pull it free but Samuel placed a hand on his arm.

“That’s your key, for when you come back. I have no need for one,” Samuel said, placing his palm flat on the door. “Only takes a moment.”

Bertram watched in amazement as the door dissolved within seconds. “Blimey…” he said.

“Impressive, isn’t it?”

“You could say that.” Bertram stared at the wall of shimmering gold in front of them. It wasn’t solid gold, more amber in colour and it was constantly moving, like a waterfall. He reached out to touch it and felt it give way beneath his hand. It felt wet and warm, but when he pulled his hand free, it was dry. “What is this?” He wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to enter. “I can’t walk through that. I won’t be able to breathe.”

“You’ll be fine, don’t over think it too much. Just do what I do,” Samuel said, striding through the doorway.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Bertram said, wishing the bottle of brandy had sent him into a drunken stupor. He would be asleep now in the library, asleep and oblivious to this man and this place. This was not how he expected his day to turn out. Not at all.

On the other side of the waterfall Samuel seemed to replace the whole episode hilarious. He was clutching his stomach and wiping tears away from his eyes and it irked Bertram. Deciding not to be a wuss, or to give Samuel any other cause for hysterics he held his breath and stepped into the waterfall.

For a second, he was standing in the middle of the golden liquid, Samuel watching him on the other side. Although it had appeared thick like marmalade, it was very much like being underwater. It was a strange sensation, he felt the wetness and the warmth of it but found he could still breathe. Samuel motioned for him to hurry up, so Bertram took another step and found himself on the other side, as dry as he had been before he entered.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Bertram didn’t answer, his attention caught by his surroundings.

“We’re on a beach?” Bertram said. He looked at Samuel who laughed. Again.

“You’re quick, aren’t you?”

“But how? How is this all possible? I just don’t understand it…” Bertram looked out to sea. In the distance, he could see terns dive-bombing the water that crashed against a rocky outcrop. Behind him, perched atop the sheer red cliff was a derelict mine. A dozen or more terns sat perched upon the engine house, or at least what was left of it, whilst a few more circled above the tall chimney. Carpeting the fields, and the land surrounding the mine was purple and yellow heather. It was just as he remembered it.