Miracle Woman (20 page)

Martha was fascinated by the origins of Catherine's healing gift.

‘The healing has created a great quest for knowledge about humanity itself, for there is
nothing as complex as the human being, as I'm sure you've already discovered. I studied and researched for many years in New York and Baltimore and San Francisco, worked in some fine hospitals and research centres and met hundreds, no thousands, of people that in some way I tried to help and heal along the way. I'm not getting any younger and when my husband got offered a professorship here in Boston, I found myself setting up my stall here in this house. I guess I'd begun to realize that I was stretching myself too thin and decided the time was right to help others to develop their own healing gifts, and their knowledge of the subject. Those that need my help somehow or other still always manage to find their way to my door. My referrals are usually by word of mouth. I do not advertise.'

‘I heard about you through a friend,' said Martha, ‘and she was the one gave me your number.'

‘I'm so glad she did and that we had the opportunity to meet and have our paths cross,' smiled Catherine. ‘Any help or advice I can give, just ask! Honest, that's all you need to do.'

Martha could tell the other woman genuinely meant it and found herself telling the more experienced healer about Cass and her growing fear for the child's life.

‘You are already involved with the child. She has bonded with you?'

‘Yes,' sighed Martha. ‘She trusts me, talks to me.'

‘Then you cannot let her down,' confirmed Catherine. ‘Perhaps there will be a miracle, perhaps not. We cannot save all those that come to us, Martha. Part of the healing gift is accepting that. Often we are lucky and can help relieve pain or suffering of the body or mind, but at times the true healing work is to help another living soul accept that their time on this earth is nearing its end, and lift the fear and anger from them. For a child and their parents it is even more complex. Cass and her family need you, so you will suffer too alongside them.'

Martha could see the sense in what Catherine said and realized that she had already chosen a difficult path by involving herself with the Armstrong family.

‘If you should ever need to talk to me or get in touch, here are my private home and cell phone numbers,' offered Catherine, passing her a piece of paper. Martha couldn't believe the older woman's generosity in offering her good will and support and she hoped that in time the two of them could become friends.

‘I travel quite a bit, lecturing and visiting Europe or the West Coast, for it's always good to meet others and share our experiences and learn from each other. But I do hope that you and I will keep in touch.'

‘Of course,' she promised.

‘Balance is all important, Martha, and is something you will learn in time, but for one with a gift like yours there will naturally be immense demand and pressure.'

‘That is what I'm worried about.'

‘You are young and strong and have your husband and family and friends around you. Surround yourself with those who will help and protect you and your gift.'

‘I will.'

‘Martha, you are a good person, but still you must be careful! You are vulnerable to those who demand and expect too much of you. Remember what I told you about protecting yourself.'

Martha nodded.

When they said their farewells in the hallway, Catherine Morgan embraced Martha warmly before she stepped back out onto the street. Her head was reeling with all she had discovered as she made her way to the nearest T station. Her mind was already filling with plans as she walked back towards the Common.

THE UPSTAIRS ROOM
above Golden Threads lay empty, a jumble of packing cases and junk scattered across the bare floorboards. Martha was amazed by her best friend's offer to let her use the room for her healing.

‘It's so darned obvious, I don't know why I didn't think of it before,' said Evie Hayes, glancing around the spacious area which she'd barely used over the past two years except for storing old samplers, cushion covers, runners and unpopular patterns in the vague hope that they might in time become fashionable again, and a whole range of odds and ends that she hadn't got the heart to part with.

‘The only way I could get the shop was by agreeing to rent the whole building,' she explained. ‘All this extra space is a luxury and a total waste for a small shop owner like myself. It's a shame not to be using it, but I was reluctant to sublet as I was nervous about another tenant. It's
not everyone I'd let it to, but if you're interested, Martha, the place is yours.'

‘Are you sure, Evie?'

‘Of course, I wouldn't offer otherwise.'

‘It's ideal.'

‘With the long windows, it's good and bright: you can see right across the street and it's close to everything. There's a small bathroom at the back and another bedroom or whatever beside it.'

‘Hmm.' Martha walked all around the top floor trying to imagine it cleaned and painted and herself working there, running her healing centre from this simple setting. There was something nice about the building's orientation and the way the light hit it. She could see now why Evie had been excited about the ground floor and had snapped it up for her shop.

‘Come on, Martha, what do you think? Isn't it just so right! This place would be perfect for you.'

Martha said nothing but concentrated on the atmosphere around her as she walked in and out and up and down. The original owner had lived above her hat store with her family and it still showed signs of having once been a family home. She liked it and every instinct told her to take it, but she felt she should involve Mike and her family in the decision. It was a big undertaking to start renting out a space of her own, and to agree to share the lease even if it was at Evie's generous rock-bottom price.

‘I love it, Evie, and having you downstairs would be just great.'

‘Think of the fun we'd have!' laughed Evie. ‘We'd be bound to have the most eccentric clientele in the whole of Easton. Seamstresses in need of healing!'

The two of them rocked with laughter at the insane thought of it, and Martha couldn't imagine anyone better to share the building with than her old schoolfriend.

Mike and Patrick and Alice had come over on the Friday night after school and work to see it. She was disappointed that her older daughter didn't consider it important enough to miss going to the cinema with her friends, but supposed that at thirteen, like many of the girls of her age, adults and their concerns were of little interest. Evie had been good enough to give Martha a set of keys and told her to take as much time as she wanted to make her decision.

‘It's kind of small, Mom, isn't it!' Patrick blurted out after a whirlwind run through the place.

‘Patrick, have a good look, please. This is really important to me and I value your opinion.'

This time he walked around more slowly looking at everything, checking the light switches and the faucets in the sink and even the floorboards. Mike and Martha smiled at each other, both realizing that he was at times beginning to act like
a grown-up and they needed to respect that about their son. Alice was in raptures, having found a whole cardboard box full of patterns of Evie's; she liked the one of a horse and its foal the best. A bundle of stretched tapestries, awaiting their frames, lay against the wall of the largest room and, curious, Alice hunkered down and sorted through them.

Mike had brought a measuring tape and a notebook with him and scribbled down details with his pencil. Martha watched him out of the corner of her eye and wondered how she had ever managed to marry such an organized and responsible man.

‘Well, love, what do you think?'

Mike moved off into the other room, leaving her to trail along beside him.

‘Mike, you didn't say anything!'

Sometimes her husband could be so infuriating. She could try and guess what he was thinking but with the male mind who could tell? Did he like the place or not? He was walking around as if he was some sort of professional building surveyor or architect she'd employed instead of being her husband and partner. All she wanted to know was his gut reaction to the place. She always trusted her own instincts and knew she certainly liked it, but wanted his opinion.

‘Patrick, what do you think?'

Her son ambled over, his dark head bent forward as he peered through the window.

‘I think it's sort of neat, Mom. If it weren't going to be for your office it wouldn't be half bad as an apartment. It's so near to everything, the T line, the café, the diner – just about everything. Yet it's not too noisy because of the one-way system and this side of the street being pedestrianized. If it were me, I definitely think you should go for it.'

Martha nodded, pleased.

‘Alice?'

Tossing her long fair hair back off her shoulder, Alice turned and gave the question her undivided attention.

‘I think it would be nice for you and Aunt Evie to work so close together. You are best friends for ever and it would be fun! Wouldn't it?'

‘Yes, honey, I'm sure it'd be fun.'

‘She'd be downstairs and you'd be upstairs!'

Mike sauntered over to join them.

‘Well?'

‘Well what, Martha? I can't understand why we're even here, looking into this. Why should you want to have a business or rooms or whatever?'

‘Mike, we've been through all this!' Martha tried to keep the exasperation from her voice. ‘I can do my healing from here,' she reminded him, ‘which means that people will come here and not to our home. I thought that's what you wanted? They can make appointments to come for a healing session. It won't be rushed or disturbed and I can organize it properly, run it professionally . . .'

‘Like a business,' he said sarcastically. ‘You are not a businesswoman, Martha.'

‘I never said I was,' she admitted. ‘I'm just a healer and as you so kindly pointed out you are fed up with all the sick and weird people that seem to congregate around me, and around our home.'

‘You know right well what I meant, don't go trying to twist my words and meanings, that's not fair! I work damned hard all day to keep our family, and I'll be damned if I have to sink a dime of my hard-earned cash into this place, the retreat for lost souls who want to see the blessed Martha!'

Martha recoiled in shock, resisting the urge to smack him across his smug face, remembering their children were in the room.

Patrick stared straight at them, unbelieving. ‘You two!'

Instantly they both felt ashamed.

‘Hey, Alice, how about we go across the street and see if we can get a malt?' he offered.

Martha flinched, seeing the look of wariness in her young daughter's eyes.

‘You go with Patrick, honey, your dad and I are just trying to sort out a few things. It's not as bad as it seems, honest.'

Mike rooted round his trouser pockets for some loose change, passing it to Patrick as they left. She gazed through rather dirty glass watching her children cross the street safely and slip into the Easton Diner.

‘Evie wants to let me have the place for almost nothing, so it'll cost you zip, but in time I hope to pay my way,' she said firmly. Her husband was surprised. ‘You've made it more than clear you want the healing out of the house, not disturbing you or the children! Well, I happen to agree with you. This place might be the solution. I can work from here. A few hours a day only while Alice is at school. I'll see a limited amount of people and will be back home by the time they all get in.'

‘Why can't things just stay the way they were always?' he said softly, his grey-blue eyes looking into hers. The laughter lines and creases there had now become wrinkles. How had she not noticed that before? She lay beside him night after night and woke up to his face beside hers on the pillow every morning. Was she that unobservant?

‘I don't know, Mike. Why do kids grow up? Why do cute babies become crazy teenagers and when did we stop listening at night to see if they were still breathing? Everything changes, it has to, otherwise we'd be stuck back with diapers and bottles in our “Power to the People” T-shirts. Did you want me to walk by Timmy Lucas and leave him to die surrounded by strangers, for God's sake, he's the same age as our Alice.'

‘No, I know you couldn't, wouldn't do that. It's just that I feel everything has changed.'

‘How do you mean?' she said, standing in front of him. ‘We still love each other, love our kids.
What
has changed, Mike, I honestly wish you'd tell me!'

‘This whole healing thing, I guess I'm afraid it's going to take you away from me and the kids. It's just not part of our plan.'

‘Plan?'

‘Yeah, our plan.'

Martha couldn't believe it! Mike was talking about something they usually talked about when they were snuggled on the couch, relaxed after a few cold beers or lying in bed after hot, heavy lovemaking.

‘The plan that when the kids were old enough you would go back to college and do a Master's in psychology, write up papers on the areas that interested you, work a bit and take time out to develop your career,' he said stubbornly. ‘That plan!'

Martha didn't know what to say. The realization that her husband basically wanted to map out her life for the next twenty years or so almost freaked her out. Everything Mike did was so organized and well thought out, he just couldn't seem to handle spontaneity and its repercussions.

‘Mike, I hate to inform you but I think that plan has just gone out the window as something rather more important has happened in my life. Can you understand that?' she insisted. ‘I have been given this blessing, this power to help and heal people. I didn't ask for it or look for it but
somehow or other I have been chosen to do this work.'