series of asanas and breathing exercises then, as before, at the end they all lay down on their mats, covered themselves with blankets and closed their eyes for a period of relaxation.
‘Picture yourself in your favourite place in the country.’ The deep, melodious voice seemed further away than the low stage of the hall. ‘Feel your bare feet in the grass, hear the birds, the wind in the trees, smell the flowers.’
Except that Rachel, trying hard to put her worries out of her head, was suddenly, violently standing on a beach. The rattle of pebbles was deafening as the waves sucked back, she could smell the raw, cold tang of salt and seaweed and ice.
‘Find yourself a nice secluded spot under a tree – ’ Eileen’s voice was barely audible now. ‘Sit down and imagine you can feel yourself leaning against its trunk.’
Another wave crashed onto the stones and Rachel realised that she had jumped backwards to avoid the spray, her feet slipping on the pebbles.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were relaxing – warm; safe; preparing to empty their minds for the meditation.
‘If at any time you feel at all uncomfortable,’ Eileen said suddenly, ‘just open your eyes.’
‘Open my eyes.’ Rachel was sure she had said it out loud. ‘Open my eyes.’ The next wave broke higher up the beach and suddenly she could hear footsteps slipping, laboured, crunching towards her.
‘Just open my eyes.’
But they were open. She knew they were open. They must be. She could see clearly.
‘Maddy!’ The young man was beside her now, looking straight at her. ‘Maddy, you must come. They’ve found him.’
‘No!’ She wasn’t aware that she had spoken this time.
‘You have to come, Maddy.’ The wind was tearing at his hair, almost dragging the shirt from his shoulders. ‘You have to come – ’
‘ – and slowly come back to the room, and when you’re ready, open your eyes.’ Eileen’s voice was right in her ear. With a start Rachel sat up. Her head was spinning. She stared round. The others were still lying flat on their backs beginning to open their eyes, to stretch.
Eileen was sitting on the edge of the platform, swinging her legs. She saw Rachel and her pale angular face shadowed. She slipped off the platform and tiptoed over on silent bare feet. ‘Are you OK, Rachel?’
Rachel shrugged. She felt as if she were going to cry.
‘You sat up too suddenly, my dear. Breathe slowly.’ Eileen patted her shoulder then she straightened and turned away. ‘That’s all for today,’ she called to the class. ‘I’ll see you next week.’
‘You all right, Rachel?’ The tall, willowy young woman next to her was rolling up her blanket. ‘Did you fall asleep? It’s very easy to do.’
‘No. I’m fine. I’m OK.’ Somehow Rachel managed to scramble to her feet. She groped for her blanket and began to fold it.
‘Coming for a coffee?’ Susie was persistent. She swung her bag on her shoulder. ‘Come on. You can only do so many things that are good for you in one day!’
It was easier not to argue. Silently Rachel followed her out. They called their farewells to the others, threw the rugs into their cars and strolled up the village street towards the tea shop.
Susie ordered coffee and tea cakes for them both at the counter then she came and sat down opposite Rachel. ‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’ she asked gently.
Rachel shook her head. ‘Nothing. Honestly.’
‘Then why were you crying?’
‘I wasn’t. At least – ’
But she had been. It was all too much. On top of the worry about pregnancy the scene on the beach had for some reason left her devastated. Leaning forward she pushed aside the small vase of pinks which stood between them on the table. ‘Something weird happened. When we were supposed to be visualising a wood or something I found myself by the sea.’
‘You fell asleep. You were dreaming.’
‘No.’ Rachel shook her head vehemently. ‘No. I wasn’t dreaming.’
The ice cold wind. The pounding waves. The fear.
They were real.
‘What happened?’ Scrutinising her friend’s face Susie’s voice had dropped to a whisper.
‘That’s it, I can’t remember. There was someone there.’
‘Two tea cakes. Two coffees.’ The brisk arrival of their order distracted her. By the time the waitress had tucked the bill under the vase of pinks and walked away, swinging her empty tray, Rachel had lost the thread again.
Susie waited expectantly. ‘Was the someone a he?’
Rachel smiled and shrugged. ‘I honestly can’t remember. It’s gone. It must have been a dream after all.’
That evening Alex bought them a take away. And he was full of plans. ‘A holiday, Rachel. We haven’t had one since our honeymoon. We deserve it, sweetheart.’
She smiled. ‘Where did you have in mind?’
‘I don’t know. How are you enjoying your yoga? What about Tibet?’ He was joking, of course.
At three in the morning she sat up suddenly in bed, shaking like a leaf.
‘Rachel, what is it? What’s wrong?’ Alex reached for the light switch, fumbling in the darkness. He put his arms round her. ‘Sweetheart, calm down. It was only a dream.’
Only a dream! The thundering waves, the long shingle beach with the wind screaming in her ears, tearing at her long skirt, her shawl, her hair flying round her head.
‘Oh, Alex.’ She pressed her face against his chest. ‘It was awful!’ She put her hand to her head. Her hair was neat, short, chestnut. In her dream it had been long, dark and wild.
‘Bad dreams.’ Alex hugged her hard. ‘Cup of tea help?’
She clung to him for a moment then almost reluctantly she nodded. She didn’t want him to leave her. She wanted to tell him everything, but at the same time, she realised suddenly she needed to be alone, to make some sense of the inexplicable fear which had woken her.
She took a deep breath and uncomfortably she pressed her hands against her ears.
‘
The voice was in the room with her. Pulling the bed covers up to her chin she stared round, terrified.
‘
‘Alex!’ she called out desperately
But he couldn’t hear her. He was downstairs listening to the increasing rush of water boiling in the kettle, sleepily staring out into the moonlit garden. The kettle switched off automatically and in the sudden silence he heard an owl hoot. A shiver ran down his spine. For a moment he stood quite still, listening, then with a small irritated shake of his head he turned and reached for the teapot and caddy.
‘Here’s the tea, Rachel. Now we’re awake, let’s plan the holiday.’ He pushed open the bedroom door with his elbow and carried the tray in. ‘Rachel?’
The bed was empty.
‘You have to come, Maddy.’ He was holding out his hand. Icy rain was soaking through his shirt, stinging his eyes.
‘I can’t!’ She took a step back, aware of the huge waves crashing onto the beach behind her. ‘Please, don’t make me look at him.’
‘But he’s alive, Maddy!’ His face broke into a smile. ‘They pulled him out alive!’
She could feel the hot rush of joy, then hope, then disbelief and then the sicker terror flow over her like a tide. He was alive. He would tell her secret. His life meant her death.
Ralph had reached towards her and caught her wrist. His hand was ice cold, slippery with salt spray and rain.
‘Over here.’ He was pulling her with him.
She could see them now. Four men bending over the body of a fifth. They were covering him with cloaks, chafing his hands.
