Secrets & Souls - prequel to The Soul Guide
Chapter 12

“I know this place. My grandfather used to bring me here, to fish, when I was a kid. This is Chapel Porth beach, and that is the old Wheal Coates mine. What are we doing here? More to the point, Samuel, how are we here?” Bertram rubbed at his temple. The alcohol had well and truly left his system now. The fuzziness had disappeared, replaced instead with a blinding headache. He needed coffee and a lie down, but he wasn’t likely to get either anytime soon.

Samuel wandered over to the fishing rod that Bertram hadn’t noticed until now. Behind it was a chair and other fishing paraphernalia. He sat down, beckoning Bertram over.

“Come sit, whilst I fish. I’ll try to explain it to you.”

“Sit where, you’ve got the only seat?” Bertram complained.

“Here, of course,” Samuel said, indicating another fishing chair that hadn’t been there a second ago.

“I’m not even going to ask how you just did that,” Bertram said, striding over to the chair. He sat down in it quickly before his legs buckled beneath him. He didn’t want to give Samuel another reason to take the mick out of him.

Samuel’s lip twitched. Bertram glared at him, and the laugh that was about to escape was quickly swallowed.

“Apologies, Bertram. I do not mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I’m a happy person by nature, laughing is quite the tonic.”

“Only if you’re not on the receiving end,” Bertram mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. He was glad of his warm jumper, there was a nip to the air. Not cold enough to be winter, sure, but chilly nonetheless. “So, you were about to tell me where we are?” he said to Samuel who was attaching a rather juicy looking maggot onto the fishing hook. Sitting on this beach for an indefinite period was not on his list of things to do today. He wanted to get back to Clayhill.

“Like you said, this is Chapel Porth beach.”

“You know what I mean,” Bertram said, unamused. “Yes, this looks like Chapel Porth beach, but it can’t be. The last time I checked there wasn’t a golden waterfall you had to walk through to get onto it.”

“Indeed, but before I get to the nitty gritty. I think you could do with a rod. It’s not as much fun fishing alone,” Samuel said, handing over a rod that had also appeared out of nowhere.

“I don’t want to fish. I want to replace out what’s going on and then I want to go home.”

“Just take the rod, Bertram. It’ll do you good.”

Bertram sighed but took the rod anyway and cast the line. He would play along, for now.

Samuel grinned, seemingly satisfied. Bertram watched him pull back the rod before flipping it forward, sending the line and float far out to sea. He saw it plop into the water an impossible distance away. Bertram could have used a strong casting arm like that himself. He never caught more than the tiniest fish, despite the years of fishing he did with his grandfather on this very same beach.

“You were saying?” Bertram asked, determined to get answers, and to get home this side of Christmas.

“This is the place of memories, your memories to be precise. I am here because you were once here. Thanks, by the way. I’ve come to enjoy fishing.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. None whatsoever. Explain.”

“I will explain, but are you prepared to listen?”

“Just get on with it,” Bertram said, irritably.

“Fine,” Samuel grinned. “You are the Caretaker. You have a responsibility to the Soul Guide…”

“Mellissa? You know about her?”

“Of course, I do. Now, stop interrupting. You’ll need to listen if you want to get home this side of Christmas.”

“What the?” Bertram was sure he hadn’t said that out loud.

“You didn’t. I am a man of many talents,” Samuel said with a smirk. “One of which is to hear your thoughts. Great, eh?”

“Bloody fantastic,” Bertram said, making a determined effort not to think at all.

“As I was saying. You have a responsibility to Mellissa and to Clayhill. You open doors for her, you take her where she needs to go. You look after her. She cannot see the doors. She cannot do what you do, and you cannot do what she does either. But, together, you can do both. You work in harmony, together. Not apart. Never that.”

“I see,” Bertram said, his heart settling like a stone within his chest. He’d already failed then.

“No, you haven’t. You are only human, and humans make mistakes. This separation is easily rectified Bertram. You know where she has gone, so go and get her back.”

“I don’t think she would want me to. She made it clear how she felt about me. I don’t want to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. Living with me, it seems, is difficult for her. Especially when…”

“When she doesn’t feel the same way about you?”

Bertram nodded. His hands gripped onto the fishing rod. His line was still in the water, the float bobbing away on the surface. He glanced at Samuel’s rod which was arched over.

Bertram nodded to the line. “You’ve caught something.”

“So I have,” Samuel said, as he started to reel it in.

“OK, say I go get Mellissa. Then what?”

“Then you work out a way to live together. A way that works for you both. Talk. Once you’ve done that, then the rest will come easily enough. Either way, you need to figure it out. It is important you remain together. I don’t mean physically, you don’t have to be in each other’s pockets all the time. I mean in your decisions, in the choices you make. The souls rely on you both to be a team, to work together not against each other. That is the most important thing. All other feelings, they must be put aside.”

“You’re saying I shouldn’t love her?”

“No, I am saying that your love for her must not get in the way of what you both must do. You are both responsible for something far more important than your love for her. If she is unable to love you back in the way you want, you must accept that. Accept it and move on. It is the only way for this to work.”

“I’m not sure I can do that. It’s too difficult.”

“You must, Bertram,” Samuel said, placing the rod back on its stand so he could look at him, the fish forgotten for a moment. Bertram watched the reel whirl furiously as the line was pulled further out to sea. Bertram felt sorry for the fish. He felt sorry for himself.

“That is what I am here for. When it gets too much. When you can’t take the pain, the responsibility, you come to me. I will always be waiting just on the other side of that waterfall. I think we will become great friends.” Samuel placed a hand on Bertram’s arm and squeezed. “I won’t always laugh at you. I hope, in time, we’ll be able to laugh together. I am a nice guy, you know. There is one condition though.”

“What’s that?” Bertram asked.

“This place, our friendship, remains between us.”

“Why?”

“Mellissa has secrets, then why not even up the scale?” Samuel grinned and despite himself, Bertram did too. “In all seriousness, Bertram, this place must remain between us. If you were to speak of me and this place to anyone you won’t be able to return here. Can you keep this between us?”

Bertram thought for a moment. He didn’t like secrets. The ones which Mellissa kept from him had already caused a rift between them both, but despite his initial thoughts of Samuel, he liked the fact that there was a place for him to go that was just for him, and a potential friendship that was his alone. Growing up had been lonely at times and having a friend now would make up for some of that.

“Potential? I’m offended. Aren’t we already friends?” Samuel said, standing and offering a hand to Bertram.

Bertram looked up at Samuel, his shiny white teeth perfect in his grinning mouth. “Well, that all depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Whether you can teach me how to cast like you do?”

Samuel grinned, sitting back down. “That would be my pleasure.”

They passed the next few hours, laughing and joking. Samuel had taught Bertram the best way to hold the rod so that he could get a good cast off and, after a few attempts, he was almost besting Samuel. Not only that, they both caught a dozen fish between them and Bertram was filled with a sense of achievement that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. He looked at Samuel who was busy pulling a hook out of a fish’s mouth. It was a cod, and a large one at that. Bertram, didn’t think they’d get such a size so near the coast but as this was a place from his memory he supposed that didn’t really matter. Samuel could make objects appear out of thin air, he figured he could do the same with fish. Bertram knew that Samuel wasn’t a figment of his imagination despite what he’d thought earlier. He just didn’t know who Samuel was exactly, and that bothered him.

“I’m your friend. That’s all you really need to know, Bertram,” Samuel said, as he smoothed his large hand over the fish before placing it in a bucket with the others.

“I get that. But why?”

“Because I want to be, because you need me to be. You are not infallible Bertram. Like I said, I am here to support you, to be your friend when things get tough. Like today, for example. Does it really matter who I am if I can make you feel better about things? Today has been good, hasn’t it?”

Bertram thought about it. Samuel was right, he had enjoyed himself. More than he thought he would and certainly more than he had done in a while. In a funny way, Samuel reminded him of his grandfather. Samuel was a straight talker, and he certainly had some skills when it came to fishing. The point was, did it really matter whether he knew who Samuel really was? In the end, he decided it didn’t. For now, Bertram was content to have him as a friend.

“I guess you’re not going to tell me who you are, and there is probably a good enough reason why you can’t. So, taking a piece of your own advice. I will accept it and move on.”

“And Mellissa? Will you accept the relationship she is able to give you and not push her for something more?” Samuel said, holding Bertram’s gaze.

“I will do my best.”

“Then I can ask no more.” Samuel clapped a hand against Bertram’s back and stood. Bertram winced. “You might want to be a bit gentler,” he coughed. “You almost winded me.”

“Sorry, sometimes I forget my own strength.”

Bertram stood. “Well, I suppose I’d better be heading back. It must be almost morning by now and like you said, I need to go get Mellissa. We should sort some things out.”

“Ah.” Samuel said, looking more than a little sheepish.

“Ah, what?”

“Don’t be surprised if it’s a little past morning when you’re back at Clayhill.”

“What, like the afternoon, you mean?” Bertram asked, thinking he’d miscalculated how long he’d been on the beach with Samuel.

“Not the afternoon, no,” Samuel said, suddenly replaceing the sand beneath his feet rather interesting. “More like a…” he mumbled the rest of the sentence and the words were lost beneath the crashing of the waves and the call of the terns.

“Sorry. I didn’t hear what you said.”

Samuel cleared his throat. “A month past, to be exact.”

Bertram’s mouth dropped open. “A month? You’re saying I’ve been gone a month?”

Samuel nodded his head. Bertram sat, before he fell. This time Samuel had the good sense not to laugh.