Free The Whisper of Stars by Nick Jones Page A

rolled onto her back and opened her eyes.
    A full moon hung majestically over a dark Cotswold scene, one she recognised instantly. She was home. The recurring dream, the nightmare that had been with her for so long, had finally been resolved. She had unlocked a memory and opened the door. Now, she needed to find out what happened next.
    She looked around, praying she wouldn’t wake. It was a strange feeling, being so alert and yet certain this wasn’t real. She spotted the girl from the cornfield creeping along a hedgerow to the side of a churchyard. Jen absorbed the scene and remembered. This actually happened; this was real.
    Jen stood but had to fight to stop her legs from shaking, still reeling from the horror of the beetles. Her younger self, wearing nightclothes now – yes that’s right, I remember – slipped through the church gate. Jen followed, tracing along a low stone wall, recalling this night more with each step. In the churchyard, she found her father on his hands and knees burying something. Jen heard her younger self speak and instantly the conversation came back to her. It was as if she was learning, seeing and remembering simultaneously.
    She studied her father. Seeing him again was so hard. She desperately wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go. She knew of people who had used dimensional films to relive past experiences, to see lost relatives again. She had tried a demo once but found the experience void of true feeling. This was completely different; she was living this moment, every sense, smell and feeling. The pain of love lost combined with the ecstasy of a rediscovered past.
    Her father stood suddenly, horror in his face.
    ‘Jenny, what are you doing here?’
    Her younger self ran and hugged him. Jacob, rigid at first, wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her in return. Jen walked towards the pair, somehow knowing she would remain invisible for the duration of this performance. Her father’s eyes were welling, his skin covered in perspiration. She remembered hearing him leave the house that night. She had been awake and followed, worried about him. How could she have forgotten all of this? Why had it been hidden from her?
    ‘Jenny,’ her father said.
    The young girl looked up and waited patiently, her green eyes glinting in lamplight, melting his heart. Nobody called her Jenny except him.
    ‘I need you to help me,’ he said softly. ‘Will you do that? Will you help me?’
    ‘Of course.’ The girl’s voice was kind, innocent.
    ‘Good girl. I need you to keep tonight a secret.’ He leant in, playfully. ‘Really secret. We need to hide it away so no one can find it.’
    ‘Like treasure,’ she replied excitedly, craning her neck, trying to see the mound of earth behind him.
    ‘Exactly.’ He smiled, but the pain in his heart was obvious to her older self.
    ‘I need you to forget this, Jenny. The church, tonight. Forget all of it. Can you do that?’
    The girl nodded obediently.
    Jen felt a weight lifted from her as his words echoed back through time. All these years she thought her father had wanted her to forget him . That wasn’t what he’d said at all; he had only wanted her to forget this night, this moment.
    ‘Daddy has to do this, sweetheart,’ he explained. ‘Trust me, okay?’
    He placed one hand on the freshly dug earth and in the other took his daughter’s tiny hands. Jen remembered how that had felt, a vibration pulsing through her, his hands unusually cold to touch, like they were made of chilled metal.
    Without warning or fear, the churchyard scene, her father and the girl drifted away into darkness. Jen, still inside the dream, was back in her old room, warm and safe. Her father was perched on the edge of her old, ornate iron bed, looking down on his daughter, now tucked in and sleepy. Again, Jen remembered this.
    ‘Daddy?’ Jenny asked.
    ‘I’m here, honey.’ He stroked the hair from her face.
    ‘I’m scared. I don’t want you to