Eighteen Kisses Page 3

  The office door swung open and a second-year girl, whom I vaguely recognized, walked past, looking kind of traumatized. She gave me a sympathetic smile; a show of solidarity to a fellow comrade destined for similar torture.

  ‘Come in, Jacki.’ Miss Jennings knew the name of every single pupil in the school, which was incredibly cool, but also a bit weird.

  ‘Take a seat,’ she said. She was wearing a black trouser suit and her auburn hair was tied back in a tight ponytail. She looked surprisingly cheerful for someone about to give detention. I settled down on the chair opposite her. Her desk was arranged in neat piles – paper, pencils, Post-its and two silver frames facing her.

  ‘First of all, I would like to say congratulations.’

  ‘Er… thanks?’ I said, with absolutely no idea why I was being congratulated. As far as I was aware, I hadn’t entered any competitions. I’d come second in an open-mic contest in Sligo a few weeks ago, but I was pretty sure Miss Jennings hadn’t heard about that. She tilted her computer screen towards her and started to read.

  ‘We are pleased to inform you that your student Jacki King has been chosen to intern at our magazine. Her application for work experience was successful and she is invited to begin a two-week internship in our Dublin offices, starting on May the fourteenth. We do apologize for the late announcement of our chosen interns. This was due to an administrative error. If Miss King is still interested in the placement, she should contact us as soon as possible.

  ‘Yours sincerely, Tim Kavanagh, Deputy Editor, Electric magazine.

  ‘Isn’t that wonderful news?’ said Miss Jennings. My brain was working really fast, trying to figure out what was happening before my body gave a signal that showed I didn’t have a clue what was going on. Then it struck me – Sergeant Lawlor had arranged this. Wow, Matt worked fast – I was impressed. But had I really heard that right? Electric magazine?

  ‘Are you not excited?’ said Miss Jennings.

  ‘Yeah… no, I’m… I’m really excited. Sorry, I’m just so shocked.’

  ‘That’s the music magazine, right?’

  ‘Yes. The music magazine!’ The one I read from cover to cover in Nick’s mum’s shop. The magazine whose first cover was a black and white portrait of Phil Lynott, the lead singer of my favourite band – Thin Lizzy. The magazine that so many people I knew would kill to be mentioned in. I’d heard they got sent twenty demos a day – mine was buried somewhere in their stack. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to be spending two weeks in their office. Miss Jennings’s phone started to ring.

  ‘Well done again, Jacki,’ she said. ‘Best of luck with it.’

  As I left the office, I felt excited, but also a bit anxious. I couldn’t wait to see inside Electric magazine, and two weeks in Dublin would be great. But it also meant two weeks apart from Nick. I already saw him much less than I wanted to with all his band practice and our gigs at weekends getting in the way. I took my badges out of my pockets and fixed them back on to my blazer. I headed down the corridor to maths class, trying not to think about what Nick might say when I told him after school.

  We lay on Nick’s bed, propped up by pillows, our legs outstretched. Nick wasn’t saying much at all, offering one-word answers when I tried to make conversation.

  ‘How was practice yesterday?’ I asked.

  ‘Fine.’

  I scooched down and put my head on his chest. Nothing. He usually twirled my hair or put his arm round me or tilted his head down and smiled, but not this time. I’d rushed to his house after school and had been really looking foward to seeing him, but now I was begining to wish I hadn’t bothered. I wasn’t even watching the TV, I was just lying there, getting angrier and angrier by the second. I stared at the Nirvana flag on his ceiling, thinking about how annoying this was. I’m a fairly tolerant person and not very many things irritate me. However, there are four things that make me particularly angry:

  Mum barging into my room without knocking. She hasn’t ever caught me doing anything, but it’s the principle of it.

  Discrimination. Of any kind. It really bugs me.

  Bad Thin Lizzy covers. I once heard a terrible cover of ‘The Boys are Back in Town’ at a music festival and felt sick for days. Just because it’s a good song doesn’t mean you have to cover it. Listen to it, appreciate it, don’t rip it to shreds.

  Nick’s sulky moods. I’m especially annoyed when he gets into one just before I have to do something important.

  We’d been having a silent fight for the past hour – after I’d told him I was going to Dublin for two weeks. It’s not as if I’d told him the full story though. I knew it was crazy. We’d been going out for almost eight months, yet something had stopped me from sharing everything that had happened to me over the last year – communicating with the spirit of Beth Cullen and now Kayla Edwards, and how I was going to help with a Garda operation. I knew everything about him: how he’d cried for three straight days after his gran died, how he was going to be a sound engineer even though his dad said he had to go to university, and how he’d graffitied the wall beside Clancy’s pub, but then swore to Joe that it wasn’t him. And yet, he didn’t know one of the most important things about me…

  I sighed. I totally trusted Nick to keep a secret. And I loved him, I really did, but he wasn’t as open-minded as Colin. He was pretty sceptical actually. I used to be too, so I got that. But if I told him the truth now he’d think I was crazy. Certifiably insane. And I didn’t want him to think that – there was no need for him to know just yet anyway. The Gardai had told me not to tell anyone and I’d already told two people. Two was enough, a nice even number that was relatively easy to control.

  ‘You promised,’ he said suddenly. ‘You said you’d come to my gig next week.’

  I sat up on the bed, rested my back against the wooden headboard and sighed.

  ‘I really need to take this work experience,’ I said. ‘You know they review one unsigned act every month; if I work there, then there’s a good chance they’ll listen to my CD.’ I regretted saying it as soon as I had. It sounded like I valued the slight possibility of getting a review more than going to his guaranteed headline show. Which wasn’t true. But I couldn’t tell him the truth – I would lose him. I would lose him over something I couldn’t explain.

  ‘But you promised you’d come on Thursday; it’s our first headline gig and you know what a big deal it is to me.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ I said. ‘But I can’t miss this opportunity, Nick. It’s Electric magazine.’

  ‘You didn’t even tell me you’d applied.’ He looked hurt, which made me feel even worse.

  ‘I didn’t think I’d get it,’ I said.

  The lies were stacking up now. It had become so easy.

  ‘I’m going to miss you,’ he said. He kissed me on the cheek. I tried not to smile, but I wasn’t capable, my anger was steadily dwindling. I could feel a shift in the air, that moment when you know somebody isn’t mad at you any more. I was relieved. I hated fighting with him.

  ‘I’ll miss you too,’ I said, lying back down beside him.

  ‘Then don’t go,’ he said, kissing me on the neck, right on my heart-shaped freckle. He always did it, and it always made me feel safe.

  ‘I have to,’ I said.

  ‘Well, in that case, I better give you this today.’ He turned round and opened his bedside locker and, to my surprise, took out a red box with a little bow on it. I wasn’t expecting any presents. He didn’t say anything, just handed it to me. I opened it up to find a red bracelet – a pretty design of woven stainless steel. I took it out of the box and noticed that it felt familiar.

  ‘Is this made from -’

  ‘Guitar strings,’ he said, taking the words out of my mouth.

  ‘That’s so cool!’ I said, examining it more closely. ‘It’s lovely, Nick, but what’s the occasion?’

  ‘It’s for our eight-month anniversary. Seeing as you won’t be here on the actual day, I thought you should ha
ve it now.’

  I felt a pang of guilt. I’d forgotten about our anniversary. Nick always remembered – it was so sweet – and the bracelet was gorgeous. It made me so happy when he did things like that.

  ‘Thanks, Nick,’ I said. ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘Sorry for getting upset,’ he said. ‘I just had a whole evening planned, and it’s a weekday so I figured you’d be in Avarna.’

  ‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ I reassured him. I slipped the bracelet on to my wrist and snuggled into him.

  ‘You should come over on Sunday,’ he said. ‘Before you go?’

  ‘I can’t,’ I replied, without looking at him. ‘I think my mum wants to leave really early.’ Another lie to add to my collection. But maybe lies weren’t so bad if they were what people would prefer to hear.

  Chapter 4

  Getting help from the local healer was another thing that Nick just wouldn’t understand. But Ger Rapple had practically saved my life last year and I needed him again now.

  The grass on the mountainside up to Ger’s house was still wet with dew, and white butterflies danced through the air like confetti. I took my grey sweater out of my bag and put it on – it was a bit cold up the mountain for just a T-shirt. The stones on the path crunched under my trainers, and the only other sound I heard was birds singing in the distance. As I turned the corner and saw Ger’s house up ahead, I thought back to last year, to the last time I’d walked up this way. I’ll never forget that day, how I arrived at Ger’s house in a panic, covered in bruises that I couldn’t explain. I’d been scared to death because I couldn’t figure out what was happening to me. He’d been the one to explain everything – that a murdered woman was trying to contact me, and that the phantom bruises were just one of the signs she’d used to get my attention. I’d been so frightened that day and he had helped me. I would be forever grateful.

  Even though I’d come a long way since last year, and was now much more in tune with my abilities, he was still the only other person I’d met who totally understood, and the only other person I knew who could also communicate with spirits. I needed his advice again.

  When I arrived at the house, I saw Ger sitting in the garden. He spotted me, folded up his newspaper and smiled.

  ‘Hi, Jacki,’ he said brightly. ‘Long time no see!’

  ‘Hi, Ger,’ I said, walking across the driveway. The garden looked beautiful – with wild flowers of different colours, and trees in full bloom, their leaves fluttering in the light breeze.

  ‘Have a seat,’ he said, pointing to the other patio chair. I sat down, taking in the amazing view across Avarna. The lake at the bottom of the mountain shimmered in the sunlight, the ruined castle standing majestically at its shore.

  ‘Any news?’ asked Ger.

  ‘Lots,’ I said. ‘You were right. When you said last summer that a unique path had been chosen for me, you weren’t exaggerating. Beth isn’t the only spirit I have to help.’ Ger gave me a knowing nod and I took the blue folder out of my bag. Officially I wasn’t meant to show it to anybody, but I trusted Ger. During the past week I’d read its entire contents and now knew all the details of the case. But it wasn’t so much the details that mattered, it was the feelings I would get, the signs that Kayla would give me to help her move on. I was going to use my ability to see beyond the facts that the Gardai already knew.

  ‘This is the Kayla Edwards file,’ I said. ‘She went missing two years ago, on the night of her eighteenth birthday party. They’d like me to find out what happened to her.’

  ‘Has she contacted you?’ said Ger.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I dreamed about her last weekend. But that’s only the start of it – there are others too. A detective sergeant heard about what happened with Beth and he tracked me down a few weeks ago when I was gigging in Kilkenny. He wants me to help with Operation Trail, an investigation into the disappearance of a number of women over the last ten years. Kayla’s is the first case I’ll be working on.’ When I said it out loud it sounded inconceivable, like I was talking about somebody else’s life, but I knew that Ger would believe me.

  ‘That’s great!’ he said. ‘I could tell you were destined for something like this.’ He seemed genuinely happy for me, in fact he actually seemed impressed. It was such a relief not to have to worry about what he would think, not to have to watch what I was saying.

  ‘Do you have any advice for me?’ I asked. ‘Do you want to take a look at her file?’ I held the folder out to him. He stared at it for a moment, but didn’t take it.

  ‘You’re well able for this, Jacki,’ he said, turning his head and looking down at the mountain view. ‘I knew the first time I met you that you had a gift, one that was maybe even more powerful than mine.’

  I doubted that. Ger was amazing. He’d been able to communicate with my dad, who’d died when I was younger. Ger had helped me when nobody else could. He’d told me something that only my dad could have known; I think it was my dad’s way of showing me that everything was going to be OK, that I had to stop denying what was happening to me and acknowledge what I was capable of. I hadn’t tried to talk to him like Ger did – it’s dangerous to communicate with spirits who are at rest – but last month, when I was in the grounds of Kilkenny Castle, I think he gave me another sign. It helped me decide to get involved with Operation Trail. I knew it was the right decision, but I really wanted Ger’s advice. I desperately wanted him to help me now, to give me even the tiniest bit of guidance on how to go forward with the case.

  ‘Is there anything you can tell me?’ I said. ‘There’s nobody else I can talk to about this kind of stuff.’

  ‘Did you read the book I gave you?’ he said. I’d almost forgotten about the small black book with its leather cover and gold lettering – Mastering Psychic Protection, I think it was called. It was hidden somewhere in my room.

  ‘Not yet,’ I said.

  ‘You need to read that,’ he said. ‘Communicating with spirits is a dangerous business, even with the ones who don’t mean you any harm. It can be very draining; you should know how to protect yourself.’ Considering all the headaches and panic attacks and visions I’d had last year, I couldn’t have agreed more.

  ‘And as I said before,’ he continued, ‘you also have to protect yourself from the negative energies of people on this side, people who might not want the truth to be revealed.’

  ‘What do you mean by… negative energies?’

  Ger looked serious. ‘Sometimes people direct harmful vibes at others, whether knowingly or not. If a person doesn’t want the truth to come out, then they might send negative energies your way. It’s called a psychic attack… You might never encounter one of these, but it’s better to be prepared. They can range from mild attacks that you may not even notice, to dangerous ones like the Difodi Curse – which is designed to kill and which can only be lifted by the person who performed it.’

  I was starting to get scared. I think Ger noticed.

  ‘These are very rare though,’ he went on. ‘Because if any information about the curse is revealed, like the reason for its existence, the curser will also incur torturous pain. I don’t mean to frighten you, Jacki, but it’s good to be aware of these things. One way to protect yourself is to imagine a white light round you, shielding every part of your body. Other means of protection are described in the book – you should read it.’

  ‘I will,’ I said. ‘Every page.’

  ‘And it might be a good idea to ask for something that belonged to Kayla, a piece of jewellery perhaps, to keep with you. It will help you to connect with her.’

  ‘OK, cool,’ I said. ‘Is there anything else?’

  Ger hesitated for a moment, but then looked straight at me. ‘This might sound pessimistic,’ he said, ‘but don’t trust everyone you meet through this kind of work. Remember that people will do anything to protect themselves, and to protect the ones they love. Always remember to take care of yourself first. Other than that, just use your ability.
You are meant to do this, Jacki. Remember that, and you’ll be OK.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I really needed to hear that.’

  ‘You’ll do great,’ he said. ‘You can come up here any time; you know you’re more than welcome. But I’m certain that you’ll be able to do this by yourself – it’s why you were chosen.’

  Before last summer, before any of this had happened, I never thought that our paths might be laid out for us, that what we are meant to do with our lives is already decided, and I suppose I still wasn’t entirely sure. After all, didn’t we also have a choice? But Ger had known this would happen, he’d seen what was in store for me. I wanted to help these women; if I’d been chosen to do this then I wouldn’t let them down. Ger and I sat in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying the magnificent view. I would have liked to stay longer.

  ‘I’d better get going. I’m heading to Dublin in an hour.’ I put the file back in my bag and stood up to leave.

  ‘Have a safe trip,’ said Ger with a smile and he stood up too.

  ‘Thanks so much for everything,’ I said, shaking his hand.

  ‘Best of luck, Jacki,’ he said. ‘But you won’t need it.’

  ‘How long are you going away for? Three months, is it?’ said Des when he saw the amount of stuff I’d just put into the boot of the car. ‘Are you sure it’s all going to fit in your gran’s house?’

  ‘Very funny,’ I replied, then turned my attention to trying to pack it all in. There was a slight problem – my music equipment practically took up all of the space. I tried to squeeze in my suitcase of clothes, but finally decided I’d have to put it on the back seat instead.