‘Just about,’ said Katie. ‘We think we might just escape for a while, though, because Doodle has spotted the cats and wants to play. They don’t. Good job Bridget didn’t bring her cats. They’d be on the ceiling by now if she had.’
I went over to where Gary was now chatting to a man with a snake around his neck. Ajay started filming as the man lifted the snake and put it around Gary’s neck. Poor Gary went white as the snake wound its way down his back then its head reappeared between his legs in Gary’s crotch. ‘Well, hello sailor,’ I said.
Everyone in the vicinity cracked up laughing, apart from Gary who looked as if he was going to pass out.
The snake owner managed to detach the snake and Gary stumbled off in the direction of the gents.
Jo was fantastic. With help from some of the crew, she went around talking to owners, separating people and their pets into areas divided off with chairs and tables that were stacked at the back of the hall. Peace was restored, apart from a frisky ferret who escaped from his owner, found a lady nearby and disappeared into her shirt.
‘Happy days in the TV business,’ I said to Gary, who’d reappeared but was hovering as close as he could to the exit.
‘Yes, happy days. Let’s just do some interviews, get out of here to the nearest pub and down a few large glasses of red wine. Animals might well be a man’s best friend but don’t ever ever put them together in one room. Lesson learnt.’
Chapter Forty-Four
Mitch
1976
On a Monday morning in March, I found myself sitting in a conference room with twelve others from different parts of Europe. The air was thick with anticipation and no one spoke. I felt nervous and excited to meet the founders of the Rainbow Children, unsure how to be with such celebrities – relaxed, cool, respectful, how? It was a bit like meeting royalty.
Finally the wait was over, the door opened, and there they were, John, Robert, Maya, Debra, and so began the most intense few weeks of my life. As they expanded on their plans to spread the message of peace, I felt that all the doubt and sleeping on hard floors had been worth it. It seemed to have been leading to this place, to be here, at the centre.
The movements’ founders were charismatic, radiant, funny, intelligent. They made all of us feel special, accepted, like we had something to contribute, and that drew me in. I badly wanted to contribute and feel that my life had some kind of purpose. Another plus was that as the weeks went on, I found I had made new friends as well as colleagues.
We learnt how to present ourselves in public, walk tall, to look people in the eye, shake hands firmly, be positive, and to practise positive thinking at all times.
We were taken shopping and bought new clothes, had our hair professionally styled. Mine was cut just below my shoulders. We were polished on every level – the spiritual, the mental, the physical, until we shone and were ready to go out into the world.
They ran through the life plan that we would be sent out to teach, emphasizing that we mustn’t try to interpret the message or add our own angle, that we were to keep our talks free of politics and religion. ‘Like water,’ said John, ‘keep the message pure. Don’t add your own flavour.’
‘If you’re to do this,’ said Debra, ‘you must have no desires, no attachments. If you’re sent to New York and your heart is in London, you’re no use to us. There is no room for pretenders or those who feel this is the slightest sacrifice, no room for martyrs here. This work has to be your whole life. If you have the slightest reservation, then leave now.’
No one did. There wasn’t the slightest doubt in me that here lay my destiny.
I hoped that once I’d finished the training that I’d be sent far away from the UK. I knew that some of the new indigos had been sent to Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Europe; it was part of the job – to always be on the move. Hopefully, I could leave the UK, forget about Alec and any future I might have dreamt I’d have with him, forget about my past and the child I still thought about daily.
At last came the day when we heard our assignments. John came in and read the list and where around the globe we were all going to be sent. Then they came to me.
‘Michelle – South Africa.’
Excellent. A new start, I thought. I was ready for it.
Chapter Forty-Five
Sara
Present day, April
The fifth programme was going to be an interesting one. How friends can hurt as well as heal. For this one, our celebrity was a successful singer-songwriter in her early twenties called Luca. I met her in a hotel room in Piccadilly. I liked her style. Skinny with dyed green glossy hair cut to her shoulders, silver rings through her ears and one through her lip, tattoos up her arms and wearing sweatpants and a cut-off T-shirt. After introductions and thanks for taking part, we got down to the nitty-gritty.
‘I was bullied at school,’ she said, ‘never one of the popular crowd. I never fitted in, so yeah, I can tell you about how friendships can hurt. I hurt a lot. I was isolated, humiliated, called names, laughed at and lonely. Girls can be mean. It’s not fist-in-the-face bullying like it often is with boys, it’s more subtle with girls – texts, false rumours spread, comments on social media. I came off all of it after getting slagged off on Facebook. Basically my first years at secondary school were crap.’
‘All the way through?’ I asked. I thought about how wonderful my school years had been, knowing that was down
