Voices by Masters Sarah

Author:Masters, Sarah [Masters, Sarah]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

The Past

Diary Entry #6

I had a few black looks today—disbelieving ones too—but that’s par for the course. I can’t expect everyone to accept what I do. Still, when I prove myself and they see the results of what I tell them, maybe they’ll stop staring at me as though I have two heads. I try to put myself in their position, imagine how I’d feel if someone told me they saw images and heard voices, but I can’t, because to me it’s always been normal, it isn’t anything shocking at all.

I’m working alongside Langham at the moment and it doesn’t help that every time I’m close to him I remember things I’ve imagined us doing together. Rude things. I should be concentrating on getting information, not filling my head with images of us fucking. I can’t seem to stop it, though. The first sweep of lust, of me wanting him, is high, and it’s a shame that inevitably it’ll die down to something more mundane when he makes it clear that he isn’t interested in me. Well, he’s made that clear enough already by saying he wants to fuck ‘someone’. Bloody shame it isn’t me. And I hope I always want to rush to see him, to have that feeling of expectation thrashing through my veins that soon, soon we’ll be able to fall into bed—or wherever else the fancy takes us.

And one of those fancies, those bloody daydreams, took me by surprise during our lunch break.

Langham went to the cafeteria to buy us some sandwiches. I was left studying a file to see if anything came to me as I read the specifics. A woman had gone missing three days ago. The last sighting of her had been on the corner of an inner-city street, and from the CCTV image it appeared she had been about to cross the road that led toward her home. She’d never made it, and for someone who always ran like clockwork—never late, and if she was she texted her husband—her disappearance was alarming.

There was a man in the CCTV image who stood a few feet behind her, lounging against a shop. He had a beanie hat pulled low over his brow, had his hands in his pockets, and one leg bent at the knee, the sole of his shoe planted firmly against the wall. He gave me all kinds of bad feelings, but I wasn’t able to pinpoint whether they were to do with the woman or just him in general. The spirits weren’t in the mood for playing, for showing me anything concrete, so I shoved the file away from me across the desk and switched my mind off.

Langham returned with our lunch, sat opposite me, and we did nothing but eat and stare at the desk. In my mind we stared at one another. There was a silent communication going on, where his eyes told me everything he was feeling. I didn’t need to be a medium to know what that was.

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