Read Online Harvest by Steve Merrifield - Free Book Online Page A

smiled disarmingly. “You must be
Mr Chambers.” She navigated the coffee table and extended her
hand.
    He stood to his full height,
which was several inches over Rachel’s, and took her hand. She was
unsure if she was meant to feel intimidated.
    “ Call me
Brian.”
    She let his hand go and
looked about her. The flat was bright and airy and very
clean, almost too clean. “It’s a lovely home you both have.” She looked to Brian as he
sat down. He didn’t say anything. He was a big man, not fat but
stocky, judging by the heavy pads she had felt on his hand, a
manual worker. He offered a smile from a fresh smooth face, he
looked to be a youthful thirty-something, but his eyes looked
switched off. They were the eyes of an old man hardened to
everything the world could throw at him and judging by his solid
posture and his strained body language he had a hardened attitude
towards her, and these niceties was just politeness.
    Rachel turned on her heels as
she heard the welcome interruption of rattling crockery. Claire
entered with a tray of tea and biscuits, shooting her husband a
disapproving look.
    “ Please, Rachel, take a
seat.” Claire’s tone berated Brian for not offering
earlier.
    Rachel sat in the armchair
opposite the sofa.
    Claire settled next to Brian
and served the drinks. Rachel took the cup and saucer and stirred
the drink before resting the spoon gently at the side.
    Brian was the first to speak.
“This was Claire’s idea, not mine. To be quite frank I don’t
believe in mumbo-jumbo.”
    Claire shot him a killing
look.
    Rachel ignored him
momentarily and took a sip of her tea. “I am glad you don’t believe
in mumbo-jumbo. Nor do I. I’m not a witch – although I can have a
temper on me.” She smiled. “I do believe in spirits and that there
is an after-life if you want to call it that. It is just a view
that physical death isn’t the
end, that sometimes, for whatever reason or science behind it an
aspect of us remains after the body dies, and some of us are
fortunate enough to be able to communicate with these essences,
these spirits. And we use that ability to help those left behind.
So, I won’t be chanting and lighting incense and you will be quite
pleased that I left my broomstick at home.” She finished her
matter-of-fact statement with a nod to Claire. “Lovely
tea.”
    “ I didn’t mean to be
rude, it’s just that it’s been a hard time for us.” Brian took
Claire’s hand in his. “I don’t want anything that is going to make
life harder for us.”
    Rachel rested her cup on
its saucer. “I understand entirely. It’s very good of you to
support your wife in something that you don’t really believe in,
especially at a time as painful as this. I’m not a charlatan
though, Brian. I don’t ask for any money for what I do. All I ask
is for you to suspend any criticism and preconceptions for just a
while and believe for just a moment.” Rachel watched
Brian nod and smile and his frame sank slightly as he disarmed
himself. She knew now was the time to lay her cards on the table.
She settled her cup on its saucer and held it still on her lap as
she approached a difficult subject. “I have to say one thing. I am
here to help you find some kind of lead for the ongoing
investigation. However, I would appreciate it if you didn’t ask me
to try and contact Emily.” Rachel smiled weakly. Death sat
uncomfortably on her shoulder as she prepared to elaborate. “If I
disclosed that I could contact her, I imagine non-believers would
judge me as being cruel in taking away your hope of her being
alive. I also suspect that any scepticism you have about my
abilities would be reinforced by your need to believe that she is
alive, and you would doubt what I say until there was tangible
earth-bound evidence. If I found that I couldn’t contact her, you
might take what could simply be a limitation of my ability as
reinforcement of your hope of her being alive. Disclosure either
way would