Wendy Leigh saw the great love of her 20's after he died
I’ve never believed in ghosts, but three years ago I had an earth-shattering manifestation of the ghost of a dead former lover.
His name was Richard, he was 6ft 2in, with bright blue eyes, dark hair and a smile that could warm an Arctic winter.
Sadly, he died suddenly of a heart attack when he was just 66. He had been the great love of my 20s, but circumstances had separated us. Then, by a strange and dramatic stroke of fate, we met again through work over three years ago.
Despite the mega-watt attraction that still flared between us, reality was against us. He was married, and I, too, was committed elsewhere.
So we had an affair. A series of beautiful, secret encounters, rippling with love, sensuality and spirituality, which carried on until the tragic day I learned of his death.
Devastated, I locked myself into my office and, with the glamorous Cartier fountain pen he had given me for my last birthday, just wrote his name over and over again.
Then the phone rang in the living room, so I stopped writing, screwed the top back on the pen, left it on my desk and went next door to answer the telephone.
After an intense 20-minute conversation with a dear friend — one of the very few in whom I’d confided about Richard — I decided to go for a walk. But just as I shut the front door, I heard Richard’s voice telling me to go back into my office.
In a trance, I did. And there, on my desk, was my Cartier pen, with the top I’d screwed on so tightly on the other side of my desk, far removed from the pen.
I went into shock. As I did, there was an almighty explosion and every bulb in my office chandelier went black and died.
At that moment, from afar, I heard Richard’s voice saying the words he’d said to me on our last encounter, just days before he died.
‘I love you, and thank you for being my Indian summer. I never thought this would ever happen to me again.’ And nor did I think I would ever be haunted by a ghost — but I was.
Story of Wendy Leigh
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