The Prophecies of Eileen Proctor

Chapter 1
FLYING UP THE STAIRS
It was always the delicious smell of freshly baked bread and heavenly cakes which took me back to my unusual childhood. Although I lived with my parents in a big old house on Markham Road, we shared our home with my mother’s sister Beatie, and their mother, my Nan.
My Nan was a plump, jolly old girl with a rugged, rounded face and smiling eyes. She was the bread maker! She baked daily for just about everyone in the village. It was Nan and Auntie Beatie who looked after me most of the time as my very glamorous mother Marjorie was always pre-occupied with dressing up for her regular visits to the cricket club with my father, who just happened to be the club captain. All his spare time revolved around playing cricket or socialising at the club. Harry, my father was a very stern man with dark piercing eyes and thinning hair. He was tall and reasonably handsome and considerably older than my mother. She had never really intended having any children and sometimes I felt more than a little invisible in her presence.
Luckily for me I had two special friends, Ken and Leslie. From my earliest years they always seemed to be around and I can’t remember a time when they didn’t show up to keep me company just when I needed it. Ken and Leslie looked very much alike and the only way I could tell them apart was by the cutest of kiss curls trickling gently down Leslie’s forehead. I guessed that they were brothers and years later discovered that they were in fact twins; twins who had actually been part of my diverse and intriguing family.
“Shall we play?” asked Leslie, one late summer’s evening after I had returned from a fun day at the park with Auntie Beatie.
“What shall we play?” I asked inquisitively. Nan and Auntie Beatie were in the kitchen as usual preparing the ingredients for the following early morning baking session. Mother and father were at the cricket club and Ken and Leslie had made their regular appearance to keep me entertained.
“Let’s play flying again” said Ken with a cheeky grin. Ken was the quieter of the two brothers and his huge smile filled me with warmth like the shimmering glow of an open fire. It was difficult to explain but when he appeared close by me, I felt as though my whole body was floating and that nothing in the world could interfere with the sense of peace that surrounded me.
When I was very small the twins had taught me to fly. They explained that everyone had the ability to do this, and that they had just forgotten how, because of the heavy burden of the energy of the earth. I never thought to question the information they imparted, but their regular words of wisdom somehow resonated with my whole being.
Ken and Leslie were at the very top of the steep, rickety, wooden staircase. They spoke no words but I intuitively knew what to do. I relaxed my body and imagined myself floating like a feather in the gentle breeze.
Suddenly I felt a gentle tug and I was up and away flying above the wide and dusty stairs with the freedom of a soaring bird in mid-flight and my heart full of joyful wonderment.
The three of us chased each other back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, giggling and joking as we floated effortlessly up and down.
“Eileen, where are you?” Nan’s shrill voice pierced the air. I hovered gently at the top of the landing.
“Here she is!” exclaimed my Auntie Beatie, “she’s fallen asleep at the bottom of the stairs again. Can you believe it!” My lovely Auntie Beatie had burst into the hallway from the dark narrow passageway which led from the kitchen. Although not blessed with my mother’s beauty she was filled with more than her fair share of kindness and I adored her.
Looking down I could see myself, my own earthly body fast asleep with my head resting gently on the threadbare carpet of the bottom step. I hesitated for a moment and suddenly felt a huge tug as I slid unceremoniously back into the me at the bottom of the stairs.
Auntie Beatie gave me a gentle nudge and I slowly lifted my head which suddenly felt cumbersome and heavy.
“You can’t sleep there my love” she said mockingly, “come on its time for tea.”
As my crumpled body straightened itself into an upright stance, my eyes glanced to the top of the staircase but Ken and Leslie were nowhere to be seen.
“I wish they could stay for tea” I murmured quietly to myself.
“Pardon my love?” Auntie Beatie was blessed with excellent hearing.
I sheepishly replied, my eyes glancing downwards for fear of further questioning, “oh nothing, just chatting to myself.” I couldn’t for the life of me understand why Nan and Auntie Beatie had never noticed them, but dare not ask for fear that Ken and Leslie would, for some reason I couldn’t explain, never visit again.
I dutifully followed Nan into the kitchen which was piled high with baking trays, bowls and bread tins, the smell of the days baking still lingering seductively in the air. Teatime with Nan was always a treat and today was no exception; freshly baked brown bread with butter and homemade jam. “Ken and Leslie would love this,” I thought to myself.
After tea, with the remains of fresh crusty bread sprinkled on my lap I quietly left the table and slowly climbed the stairs. This time my feet were firmly on the ground and feeling tired after the day’s activities I washed and got ready for bed. In the dim light of my pink satin tasselled lamp I sat up in my comfy bed and began to read.