Read A Death Displaced for Free Online Page B

left her their house. As an only child, she’d taken it as their acknowledgement that she’d become an adult, their way of recognising and supporting all that she had achieved and would achieve.
     ‘Well, let us know in advance darling,’ her mother said. ‘We’ll pay for everything.’ As her parents rented out property across Spain and had made profits on various investments, the money wasn’t wearing thin.
    ‘Thank you, Mum.’ Juliet was now twenty-five, but felt reduced to the age of ten when she spoke to her mother. ‘Something happened yesterday, Mum. I was almost hit by a car.’
    Juliet’s body relaxed with subtle relief; it was good to tell someone about the incident.
    ‘One second, Juliet, bear with me.’ The voice disappeared, and Juliet heard her mother talk to someone else in the background. ‘I’m back. Sorry, what did you say?’
    ‘I said I was almost hit by a car. It could have crushed me.’
    ‘Really? Gosh, sweetie. Well, I’ll get your dad to wire over some money. You go and treat yourself; forget all about it,’ she said, stolidly.
    ‘No, Mum. It doesn’t really matter. I just wanted to talk about it.’ Hurt was apparent in her voice.
    ‘Well, you’re alive aren’t you? That’s all that counts.’
    ‘Yes, I suppose.’ Juliet held back tears, mentally telling herself to stop being so stupid and self-centred. Why should her mum care?
    ‘Anyway, sweetie, your dad’s in the swimming pool. I’ll have to dash. Let us know if you’re going to visit. Kisses, mwah!’
    ‘Can I say hello to Dad quickly …?’ but Mrs Maystone hung up mid-question.
    Fighting off her self-pity, Juliet found a trashy novel to read and placed herself far inside of it. When her mind drifted back to the phone call, she rationalised that it was childish expecting a reaction from her mother anyway. Gran would have cared,  she thought , Stop it, they do care.
    Finding things to do, she sketched up a new layout for the café and fantasised over the thought of redecorating the entire place. Later on she cleaned the house, worked a shift at a local charity shop she volunteered at, went cycling, read a book on nutrition, ate dinner alone, and then had a long bath. The whole time she was alert and half expecting for something seemingly paranormal to happen.
    That night passed without any strange happenings. On Sunday, she did some garden keeping and then spent the rest of her day practicing Spanish and working on an assignment for a Diet and Nutrition home-study course she’d enrolled on a few months ago. The course was purely out of interest, but some of what she’d learnt so far was useful for the café too. And learning Spanish was just a practicality for when she visited her parents.
    On Monday morning she was in the kitchen filling the kettle with water and thinking of the car incident and how lucky she was to be alive. With a smile she looked up at her reflection in the window. The only problem was: the reflection wasn’t hers. Somebody else’s face was on her body, staring back at her.
    Throwing herself backwards, she screamed and fell onto hard tiles. The impact hurt her wrists, but there was no time for pain. When she stood up, the image was her own again. She touched her face to validate, then rotated her wrists to soften the pain inflicted from her fall.
    As she turned to leave the kitchen, she heard a voice, crystal-clear. ‘Help me,’ it said. A chill prickled down her spine. She ran to her bedroom, wanting to sob. But what was the point?  I can’t cry, no.  Covering her ears, she waited until her confidence returned. When it did, she decided to seek help.
    Remembering someone she’d heard of, she pulled out her laptop and searched on Google: Contact number Tamara Trewin Lansin Island Willow. The website she was looking for appeared. She clicked the link then read the ‘about’ section:
     
Tamara Trewin, the last living descendent of the famous Lansin Island Witches. Psychic. Medium.