Jamie’s parties were legendary. He was not cautious with his wealth nor constrained by parental control of his inheritance. His parents were alive but once he had reach the age of a young man they had not sought to influence Jamie. Following fights, a fire and a police raid Jamie had become stricter on an invitation only basis for any party he now held. He even paid for the largest guy in college to run the door to his loft apartment. It was modern, vast and enjoyed great views towards the Thames. It was now full of pre and post graduate students, his Bose music system filing the room with loud but clean indie sounds. He loved his Bose like a faithful pet.
Oliver and Minnie sat on the floor on large Moroccan cushions, drinking the free and flowing champagne. Oliver tipped a glass towards Jamie who was playing with some younger, ever so impressed, female students.
“Thank you Jamie my good friend,” Oliver called across, already slightly merry on bubbly, “you have surpassed yourself.”
Minnie, who was very drunk and wearing a collar brace from the accident, raised a whole bottle and smiled a wonky eyed smile for Jamie.
“It’s been too long, we study too hard now,” Jamie called back, “Where is your friend then?”
“Don’t know, she’ll be here soon I’m sure,” Oliver finished his glass with a big confident smile. Life was good and he was happy.
Oliver was still sore all over from the accident. It was a miracle nobody was seriously injured, though there were many cuts and bruises. Eric had multiple lacerations to his face, his reactions had saved the lives on board the old coach. Regardless of his heroics he was now being investigated for running an unlicensed tour operation. Mary was supporting him, such was their closeness, and had secured him the free services of a lawyer friend of hers. So it looked very much like it had been Oliver’s first and last Brighton Belle experience. The one trip had connected him with Jenny and despite his near death experience he had no regrets. His texts with Jenny were awash with concern, warmth and when they spoke on the phone he felt they connected. He had grown very fond of her in a few short days and he thought she liked him too. Yet Jenny had not arrived and it was now nine pm.
During his week of sick leave from college Oliver had quietly revisited his original papers. What he had witnessed with Jenny had re-fired his curiosity and importantly his confidence. Blooms represented every sour and dead handed person in life, whose bitter self-importance and withering assessment of others could drain the very lifeblood of inspiration from you. Oliver had decided this would not be him, he would discover, he would create. He could see only sunshine ahead.
“More champeroony Minnie?” Oliver was trying to speak to a distracted Minnie who was removing his collar brace. As he unstrapped the thick padded collar, he pointed towards three short skirted women half way up the stairs to the apartment’s internal mezzanine balcony.
“The collar is stopping me from seeing up their skirts,” he advised Oliver rather matter of factly.
Oliver smiled, it would be a yes to more drink he was sure. Oliver navigated his way across the fifteen metre open plan living space, weaving through the party crowd, and turned a sharp right to the kitchen area. It had one full wall of floor to ceiling glass. This part of the apartment was quieter and the sound of the music marginally duller. Two guys passed him as they left the kitchen, Oliver smiled and nodded, they each had a bottle of champagne. Jamie’s parties, if you possessed a coveted invite, were truly the best.
At the window facing out, looking across to the park below was the thin silhouette of a woman, wearing a flowing dress. She appeared impassive to the social proceedings around her.
“Jenny?” Oliver asked curiously. She turned and smiled.
“Hello you,” she replied with a familiarity that had grown quickly between them.
“I never saw you arrive, you should have come over,”
“People rarely see me arrive, rarely see me leave, I am a bit of a social wall flower.”
“An attractive variety though.”
Jenny laughed gently, “That is very cheesy Oliver, but sweet.”
“You should have sent me a text or called, I’d have looked out for you then.”
“I forgot my mobile and was too close when I realised, I can be a little bit vacant at times,” Jenny said smiling. She approached him and placed a feather light kiss on his cheek.
“What are you like?” Oliver smiled enjoying the up front affection from this woman he had known for less than seven days.
“Well I’m here now. So how is the patient today?” she placed her hands on his shoulders. Oliver was struck by the degree of comfort he felt in her presence.
“Still a little sore, but okay, really okay actually, considering.”
“You were lucky.”
“We all were,” Oliver took Jenny’s hands from his shoulders and held them, “It’s good to see you.”
“Same here.”
They both enjoyed a moments silence, a bizarrely, strangely pleasant silence.
“Drink?” Oliver asked breaking into their quiet moment.
“Ooh yes please, is there any champagne left?”
“Oh yes,” Oliver walked across the kitchen and opened a Smeg wine cooler, with smoked glass frontage and a soft lighted interior, revealing a well stocked champagne store, “at Jamie’s place always champagne, plentiful champagne.”
Oliver took a bottle and smiled as he held it up for Jenny.
In the living space, Minnie sat with Jamie, they had been joined by Mary. She poured champagne for them both.
“You’ve had enough,” Mary commented as she poured Minnie a half glass. He pushed his glass back at the bottle.
“Fill it up tight wad.”
“Tight wad,” Mary retorted, “What does that mean in human?”
Mary duly filled Minnie’s glass.
“I am so getting laid tonight,” Jamie commented quietly as he looked across at a girl who was giving him the strongest of smiles and inviting looks, he smiled and raised his glass to her. She did the same in return.
“You are so shallow Jamie,” Mary said. She then struck Minnie on the leg, he had slowly leaned his head back to once again view the ‘upskirt’ scene provided for him halfway up the stairs they sat beneath.
“What?” he asked innocently, then turning to Jamie, “one black lacey thong, one full pair brief soft cotton, dark purple, one black string with a diamante jewel at the back type thing,” Minnie emphasised the word diamante to demonstrate his abilities as an underwear connoisseur.
“Thanks for the report sergeant,” Jamie saluted Minnie. Mary rolled her eyes, though it was nothing she wasn’t used to.
“Time to move in,” Minnie grabbed his padded collar brace and refitted it onto his neck.
“Is your neck still stiff Minnie?” Mary asked.
“Talking point,” he replied and slowly dragged his huge frame to stand. He allowed himself a second to steady and then climbed the stairs.
As Minnie reached the three girls, Jamie and Mary observed his ‘moves’ as he always called them. He offered a ‘hi’ and an excuse me as he made to pass them. Without being able to hear over the music, they could lip read one of the three girls ask ‘what did you do to your neck?’ Minnie put his hand to his neck, as if he had forgot the support was there, then began what would be an overly elaborate account of the crash. Somewhere in his tale he would do something heroic, recalled modestly of course.
Mary shook her head in dismay, “He is such a Shallow Hal.”
Jamie laughed, “He didn’t even hurt his neck that much but wanted the brace, he describes it as a shag magnet.”
Jamie stood up, “Come on, let’s mingle.” He helped Mary up with one hand and they moved towards the group where Jamie was getting all the right smiles from.
Jenny and Oliver sipped champagne whilst looking out across Battersea Park from the kitchen’s panoramic view. The park was often described as a place of hidden secrets, with its lakes, wildlife, sports facilities and famil
y attractions. From the window they could see the old fashion style lamp lights weaving a path through the deserted park. A mist had begun to descend across the many variety of trees that filled the park, swirling to a rest over the undulating grass areas.
Jenny and Oliver had discussed all manner of things to do with the crash, her small business in Brighton, her interests in many things ‘other worldly’, his studies, an exchange on musical tastes. But they had not yet broached the subject that had brought them together one week earlier. Despite their connection Oliver could not bring himself to raise regression once more.
They had texted on the subject in the week. Several times. Oliver had referred to study papers on the subject he possessed. He did not say he had read and re-read them late into the night, every night since. Jenny had expressed interest in reading them. Despite this he felt reluctant to say ‘so tell me more about this regression therapy’.
Perhaps he knew they stood on the precipice of something wondrous, that there was one great discovery he was destined to sit atop of. The enormity of the possibilities had always consumed him. He also sensed that this wonder had a dark side, a portent of danger he suppressed. He also knew in the simplest of terms he feared the tormenting pain of another failure and the lasting damage on his creativity. Each failed attempt at something big, was another door closed to a fantastic life. Each time he was worn down a little more which took him a step closer to the dreaded resignation of a normal life.
“This is an amazing apartment,” Jenny commented.
“It is very cool, Jamie leads a charmed life.”
“So who are Jamie, Mary and what’s his name?”
“Minnie.”
“Minnie, that’s it, so who are these three musketeer friends of yours?”
“Ok,” Oliver sipped at his champagne, “Here goes for a cooks tour of my three best mates, take a seat.”
Oliver pulled a highly trendy glossy red stool across from the breakfast bar and gestured for Jenny to sit. She shuffled into a comfortable position. Oliver moved the chair a little with her on it so she now had a view of the party and the open plan space full of guests.
“Jamie leads a charmed life, very handsome,” Oliver leaned over Jenny gently and placed his cheek near hers to match her eye line and pointed to Jamie. Jamie was entertaining the pretty girl he had shared smiles with earlier.
“That’s Jamie, white shirt, sort of spiked dark hair, with the girl with long black curly hair,” Oliver located him for Jenny.
“Very handsome? I’m not so sure,” Jenny interrupted pulling a questioning face.
“To most sane females,” he smiled at Jenny, she smiled back, “he is a good looking smooth guy, dress sense understated, conversation cool, sophisticated, very knowledgeable on most things. He is very rich, but still studies and wants to be a neuroscientist in the pharmaceutical industry. Even though he will earn less than he could as the qualified medic he already is. His parents are rich, their parents are rich, his parents’ parents were rich and so on. Old money. Dad was an ambassador, now a government advisor on international relationships, helped broker the deal with Yemen between the UK and America.”
Oliver finished his champagne and poured another and topped Jenny’s.
He raised his glass “I give you Jamie.”
“To Jamie,” replied Jenny and they gently chinked their glasses.
“Who next?” asked Oliver.
“Mary.” Oliver located Mary for Jenny, she stood next to Jamie talking to a short haired young woman. Oliver thought briefly, with what Mary had suggested to him that Mary might be chatting her up.
“Okay, Mary is a briefer story. We know very little, her beautiful face suggests euro-asian decent, but she is adopted,” Jenny put her hand up quickly at this point.
“Me too,” she said.
“Wow,” remarked Oliver, “but she doesn’t know who her natural parents are.”
“Me neither,” smiled Jenny, a simple smile.
“Double wow,” Oliver shook his head, “Shall we talk about this?”
“No. More on Mary please.”
“Ok, more Mary. Mary has the sweetest accent, adopted at eight from foster care, then she lived in different countries with her adoptive parents, he was a sergeant in the army, she has a really eclectic accent. Mary is from a modest background, worked her way through college, qualified as a doctor, she has completed her senior psychiatry exams, at a very young age but wants to major on neuro psychiatry so is doing a second PhD. She will be Professor of something some day. And she is a dark horse, we only know as much of her as she wants us to.”
“To Mary,” Jenny led the toast this time, “And so to Minnie.”
“Minnie,” Oliver drained his glass again and poured another, “Minnie is an enigma, if you look halfway up the stairs the very tall big lug of a guy is Minnie.”
“Big guy with the three girls,” commented Jenny, “Very big guy.”
“Minnie is a clinical psychologist, from a pretty simple working class background. Despite his laid back appearance he has worked hard, as have his parents, to get him here today. He wants to work with patients with acquired brain damage and study brain disease genetics. He excelled as a number eight in Rugby Union, almost made it professional. Still plays. Sexual deviant, compulsive masturbator, voyeur, very funny, outrageous, so many words yet he remains indescribable.”
Jenny laughed at this pen picture of the giant halfway up the stairs. They toasted Minnie.
“After this drink, maybe one more, I’ll introduce you to them,” offered Oliver. Jenny smiled, nodded, drunk a little with one hand and slipped her other hand into his. He gently squeezed her hand in response.
Minnie held court with two of the three girls half way up the meandering glass and wooden staircase. The third female only just tolerated his tomfoolery and was less gullible to his ‘charms’. Her friends seemed to like him so she patiently witnessed his ‘act’.
“So Emily, Fay, Gina, tell me more about you,” Minnie mocked an exaggerated laugh, “I feel like I’ve spoken about little more than me all this time.”
“That’s because you have spoken about little more than just you,” retorted the less than impressed Gina.
“I’m sorry,” Minnie sucked in a burp from his champagne, “Gina, I really am truly sorry.”
“Well, we are all post graduate students studying speech and language at Kings,” interrupted Emily to keep the peace.
“Oral studies, now I am getting interested,” Minnie commented, “So you know how to teach someone to make the most of their mouth?”
The two girls laughed.
“You see,” Minnie added, “when it comes to cunnilingus, I suffer with the equivalent of a stammer.”
This comment elicited shocked shrieks from Emily and Suzanne and a shudder from Gina.
“I’m sure we can help do some improvement training with you,” laughed Emily.
“I’d be most grateful,” sensing he needed to seal the moment with Emily or Fay, he cared little which, Minnie stepped up his game as it were.
“You know ladies I feel I know you well enough in this brief time, to share a certain skill with you that I possess.”
“And what particular skill is that?” asked Fay.
“I can ascertain the types of under garments you might wear or indeed you are wearing now, from a basic personality assessment that I have been running whist we have been talking.”
“That’s bollocks,” Gina said, dismissing Minnie.
“For example, Gina, you want to be an open sexual woman, attracting the guys with the sports car and the Caribbean hideaway, living the high life. You won’t allow yourself to consider ordinary guys like me. Your underwear for example would reflect this, it’s likely to be bling and the type you would wear whilst succumbing to the seduction of say Jay-Ze.”
“Excuse me?” offered Gina, “Are you some kind of perverted Derren Brown?”
“Minnie, you are such a gimp, go on, what k
nickers has she got on then?” asked Emily, with both her and Fay enjoying this analysis.
“I would guess,” Minnie pondered, head in his hands, deep in thought, “Black, string, sheer lace front, and a heart shape diamante jewel holding the string together at the back.”
“No way,” said Fay, “Gina, those are you’re nix, and you said tonight you were going to bag yourself a premiership footballer one day, he has got you so right.”
“Fuck off,” Gina refuted the suggestion, “he’s got a camera in his shoe the dirty bastard.”
Minnie slowly removed each shoe. He gently, for such a big man, took Fay by the shoulders.
“Fay, you are a fun girl, you are broad minded about who can bring fun into your life, conscientious, you’ve chosen a career that gives something back, you’re patients mean something to you. But once work is over you want to be simply understated, sexy not tarty, classy even. So you would choose a simple black lacey thong.”
“Oh come on, you could guess that loads of girls here will be wearing black thongs,” Fay said, willing Minnie to prove himself.
“Possibly, to maybe add a little sexiness on a party night, a silver tiny bow and the lace a flower pattern.”
“How are you doing that, it’s just guess work,” Fay said whilst pulling her skirt tight against her.
“Ok, this is weird I don’t know how you are doing this but you’ll never get me,” Emily interjected, also pulling her skirt tight against her.
“But Emily, you are probably the simplest of all,” he moved to hold Emily, enjoying the hold he had over the two and managing his timing to ditch the naysayer named Gina.
“Emily, you are more modest in your outlook. Your thoughts are to the future, settling down, building a home, a plush modern home, lots of warm colours, aubergine velvet sofas, children, you will want a family.”
“How do you know these things?” Emily asked, head on one side curious, fooled.
“You don’t wear underwear to make a statement, it doesn’t mean you’re any the less sensuous or loving, just less up front with your sexuality. I suspect a brief over a thong and you’d choose a colour that you liked, um, purple, yup dark purple.”
“That is sick,” laughed Emily. Fay and Emily both hugged Minnie.
“You can see right through us, you’re like a mind reader Minnie, we love you,” said Fay drunkenly confused and wholly entertained by the big guy.
“Well I don’t,” Gina said dismissively. Emily and Fay frowned at her negative comments, they loved this man.
Minnie leaned over the two coquettish girls, wrapped his big arms around them both and whispered across to Gina, “You need to ease that string out of your arse, it’s making you uptight.”
Emily and Fay broke into hysterical laughter, sufficient to compound Gina’s offence, try as they might they could not help but laugh at her. Having lost her skirmish with Minnie she muttered something about needing the toilet and descended the stairs. Minnie had broken the moment and now it was a matter of choice he thought, Emily or Fay, possibly both.
By four am the apartment had emptied and the place was quiet. Up on the mezzanine space, a large tiled seating area adjacent to the four bedrooms, Oliver and Jenny sat on large cushions. Jenny had met Oliver’s three friends, they had spoke albeit relatively briefly. Minnie was on a mission and had disappeared into one of the bedrooms with both Emily and Fay. Jamie had gently cleared the apartment at around three, himself soon retiring with his companion. Mary had chatted the most but had retired herself twenty minutes earlier.
Jenny rested a head on Oliver’s shoulder. He held her in his arms and they looked out at a different vista from this raised area, towards the Thames and Battersea Bridge.
“I have never been in a place like this in my life,” she commented.
“I still pinch myself, for two years Jamie gave little away about how bloody rich he was. He lived in a small two bed flat round the corner from here, he bought this place around a year ago.”
“It must have cost a bomb.”
“Nearly seven figures, but forty percent less than the asking price from a year before. You can do well in a recession if you are cash rich.”
Jenny sighed and gently rubbed her tiring head into Oliver’s shoulder.
“So, you’re regression thing,” Oliver tentatively asked, “how does it work? What was that trance thing you did last week?”
“Oh, and there was I waiting for the ‘we could go to the spare room line’, whereas you’re thinking of me as an experiment,” Jenny dug her fingers into Oliver’s ribs, “what a boffin you are.”
Oliver flinched and then tried to recover his ground, “Ow, no, no, you’ve got me all wrong, I was asking that to then say and if we were to go to bed together would there be a risk of it happening, you know, while, if we were to you know, do, it,” Oliver breathed in, “it was a caring question, kind of.”
“You lying little shit Oliver,” Jenny moved away laughing. She slid a cushion a few feet from him.
Oliver was uncertain whether she was still playing or whether he had screwed up entirely. He was completely unprepared for what Jenny did next.
Quietly, smoothly, Jenny moved onto a cushion, folded her legs across each other, arched her back, placed a hand on each knee and closed her eyes. She breathed out. Oliver was captivated watching her in a yoga seating position, he said nothing.
Jenny breathed in. When she next exhaled, a slow hiss of icy blue air left her mouth and swirled around and above her. Oliver jumped at the speed of her regression. Jenny straightened sharply, her body snapped into a rod like pose with an audible crack. As she sat there her body creaked and groaned as her bones appeared to stretch. A blue static crackled briefly around her, Jenny began to shudder and her eyes rolled back revealing clear blue white ocular spheres. Jenny then eased into a more relaxed state, her bones and cartilage realigning, the accompanying noise of splintering glass falling onto a tiled floor.
Oliver looked around in disbelief to see if others had heard what he had.
The corners of Jenny’s mouth turned upwards into a gentle smile, “So what do you think?” she enquired of her shocked friend. Her skin looked paler, a moon dust grey with a translucent glow.
“I don’t know what to think?”
Jenny laughed lightly, “If only you could see what I see, hold on.”
Jenny’s eyes closes and she leaned back a little, her brow furrowed with concentration. Her tiny frame vibrated as if she was travelling. Which, in fact, she was. Oliver’s heart thumped hard and loud as he watched, one part curious, one part fear.
“I’m back,” she said.
“Back, is that it, you’ve finished?”
“No, I am back in time, I have regressed, found someone to host me,” Jenny’s eyes opened, her blind white eyes appeared to be watching Oliver, “I am looking out across a meadow, as a young woman walking through grass, bear feet, I look down, simple clothes, peasants clothes, my skin is grubby, this is the life of a poor young woman, feudal times. Up ahead I can see a house, a cruck house, outside my family, chickens, pigs. I am carrying a basket with fruit, apples, freshly picked apples. Everyone, I’m closer now, yes I’m sure this is my family they are greeting me. They look worried. Their life looks hard, brutally hard, around the house it is muddier, harder than that soft meadow she just walked through so different.”
Jenny paused, she took in a sharp intake of breath.
“What is it, are you ok?”
“I can see why they are worried, at the rear of the house stands a dark horse, a powerful stallion. It bears a crest probably of the Duke or Earl, in front of the horse a man. He is staring at me, nothing more, passively watching me. He has a dark face, fixed dark eyes, black mustache and he just stares. I don’t like it, he has started to walk towards her, me, his steps quickening, ugh I’m coming back.”
Jenny’s body straightened and her eyes closed. Her return was none less dramatic than her departure. The
static built again slightly but then her body in one loud shudder recoiled, with a bang as loud as a door being slammed.
Oliver jerked back, “Jesus,” he whispered tightly.
Jenny smiled, she opened her eyes, briefly white then the beautiful almond eyes rolled back down to look at Oliver and she smiled, “Freaky isn’t it?”
“Fuck me it’s freaky. What happened? Where were you? What is it you do? How?”
“So many questions, it’s a gift, I can just travel, pretty much when and where I choose, but only back, regression you see.”
A door to one of the bedrooms opened and a blurry eyed Mary peeked out, “What was that?” she asked Oliver, whilst offering Jenny a friendly smile and wave.
“Nothing,” replied Oliver in a quiet voice, “I, er, knocked something over downstairs, sorry, go back to bed.”
“Okay, good night.” Mary retreated back into her room. Minnie was probably too drunk to wake to any noise and Jamie too preoccupied to care.
Oliver went up to Jenny and put his arms around her, “You’re cold.”
“It’s a physical thing, I physically go back, or my energy does, it takes it out of me,” she held him close for warmth, “Is there a bed we could go to.”
“Sure, there’s a room still spare, come on,” Oliver stood and helped a stiff and slow moving Jenny stand. She appeared genuinely weakened by her demonstration.
Oliver smiled at her and gave her a kiss on the forehead.
“No sex though,” Jenny said.
“It didn’t cross my mind,” Oliver smiled.
“Yeah sure, no you missed the sex boat with your regression question,” she held onto Oliver as he guided her to the fourth bedroom of the apartment. He opened the door and they entered the room.