I have good news! Yesterday morning an official-looking white envelope stamped
with the University of Birmingham crest arrived though my letterbox and
promptly sent my nerves into absolute meltdown. Knowing that this letter could
ultimately determine the course of my future, I was both anxious and excited as
I tore the envelope open, took out the letter and read:
‘I am pleased to inform you that you have
been awarded a one-year research scholarship to enable you to carry out
advanced study and research on your chosen topic. The scholarship will comprise
of tuition fees and a maintenance allowance and will be paid monthly in
advance…’
I squealed out loud, ran into the spare bedroom to tell Alex and then
headed straight into the front room to call my parents. Although I was
desperate to tell Leonard too, I made the decision not to mention the letter to
him in case he asks any more questions about the nature of my research. I only hope
that I can hide my excitement from him. And the letter has sparked great excitement
on many levels; not only can I plan seriously for the coming year without any
financial worries but I spent the entirety of yesterday afternoon wondering
whether the charm that is hidden beneath the books on my desk has contributed to
the success of my scholarship application. A lively imagination and an
inclination towards wishful thinking are a dangerous combination and my
rational mind has been conflicting with fantastical dreams about powerful
magicians and weird-and-wonderful magical charms. I have assured myself that it’s
just a happy coincidence, that’s all. But the 'Spell of Attraction' certainly
appears to have had an effect on Luke, hasn’t it? Or is that just another happy
coincidence? Either way, I have resolved to pay more attention to the contents
of The Omega Course, particularly the
more ambitiously named spells that would prove very useful indeed if they produced
similarly positive results! Maybe I should concentrate on these more audacious magical
experimentations in future. I have dabbled with texts involving the spirits of
the dead before (both the 'Spell of Attraction' and the 'Spell for Success and
Good Favour' concerned Daniel) but I have shied away from rituals requiring the
participation of greater spirits such as demons, angels and, dare I say, even
gods. Perhaps the arrival of this letter is the confidence booster that I
desperately need....
Naturally I was in a fantastic mood when I arrived at Elmfield House yesterday
morning and my cheerfulness was infectious as the three of us laughed a great
deal all day. Luke commented that the armature for the saxophonist piece looked
like an emaciated pelican and he suggested that I bring fresh fish to our sessions
in future. I playfully shooed him away and told him to 'go and sit in the
corner and write some morbid poetry' while Leonard complained that he was ‘the
only elderly pelican allowed in the house’. I love it when King Laugh is in the
workroom - as Leonard says – and the sessions seem to flow much easier when we
are enjoying ourselves.
We took a break around
lunchtime and Leonard left the house to fetch bread from the local shop,
leaving Luke and I alone together in the workroom. I provided Luke with an update
on the current state of my health (he will be running his own drop-in surgery
and mental health clinic at this rate!) and during our conversation it
transpired that Luke has kept electronic copies of every photograph that
Leonard has ever taken of me, which sounded creepy and stalker-ish at first but
since Luke prints out all of Leonard's photographs then it made perfect sense.
Leonard has taken many photos that I have never seen and so I gave my email
address to Luke and he has promised that he will send copies of his favourite ones
to me.
Luke and I took advantage of
Leonard’s absence and we enjoyed another moment of indulgence together, after
which Luke took a photograph with Leonard’s old Polaroid camera of the two of
us seated on the workroom floor with his arm wrapped tightly around my
shoulders while I leaned back against his chest (I was listening to the struggling,
irregular rhythm of his heart). I found this photo stuffed into my bag when I arrived
home. Luke has drawn a decorative border of tiny number eights – although on
reflection I think they are infinity symbols - around the frame and at the
bottom he has written the date and the words ‘antes mudado que muerto’ in his messy and disjointed handwriting.
When I look at the photograph I realise that I am falling in love with him. And
the thought that he might love me too is terrifying.
