Chapter One

On the 27th of March, 1966, a young girl with long red hair and teal-green eyes was gathering her things together and putting them in her backpack. Her day was planned in minute detail, from her daily study trip to the local library, to her dance practice with her partner Jesse Baines at 1334 Beechwood Drive, the house of their friends, the rock band called 'The Monkees'. Aisling and Jesse met the Monkees at the Vincent Van Gogh-Gogh nightclub, where they would perform occasionally whenever the band needed to take a break in between sets.

"I'm goin' out, Mam, I'll be back later," said the girl, kissing her mother on the cheek as she passed through the kitchen.

"Where you goin', Aisling?" Bridget asked. A distinct Irish accent flavoured both women's speech.

"The usual, goin' to the library, meetin' Jesse at the Vincent Van, then goin' to the Monkees' Pad."

"Goin' to ogle that lovely Nesmith boy, eh?"

Aisling blushed. "Mam! I'm not goin' to ogle anybody, especially not Mike." She sighed. "Besides, I don't think he's interested in me like that anyway."

"Agra, I think you're the most beautiful girl in the world and Mike Nesmith would be a right fool not to see that," her mother giggled, "But then again, I'm your mother so I'm biased."

"Ain't that the truth!"

Bridget gave her daughter a playful swot on the arm. "Go on, get goin' or you'll miss the bus."

"Yes, Mam," Aisling sighed and kissed her mother again, "I'll see ye tonight."

"Bye, Agra."

* * *

After a particularly uneventful bus trip, Aisling was finally at the library, browsing the shelves for books to help her write her history essay. She cast her gaze over the volumes and tomes on the shelf in front of her, hoping that something of interest would jump out at her. When nothing happened, Aisling turned to leave, but she stopped when she heard a voice, a woman's, remarkably similar to her own, whisper "Look again. Please, look again." She turned around, half expecting to see someone standing behind her. "Well that was weird," she murmured, "I thought I felt someone standin' behind me." Walking back down the aisle, Aisling couldn't help feeling like she was being watched.

"Would you like some help, dear?" another voice asked, which caused Aisling to jump a little. She turned around to find Mrs. King, the librarian, standing in front of her. The kind old woman smiled warmly. "Are you all right?"

Aisling relaxed. "Oh hi, Mrs. King, yes, I'm fine."

Mrs. King's smile brightened. "Good to know, dear, now, were you in need of a little help?"

"Yes, I was, actually, I was wonderin' if ye had any books on slavery? About the Underground Railroad, in particular. I need to do some research for me essay and I'm havin' a bit of trouble findin' anythin'."

The librarian nodded. "Come with me, Aisling, and we'll go check the card catalogue. Maybe we'll find something there."

Aisling followed Mrs. King to the card catalogue, even though she felt someone or something urging her to go back to the section of the library she'd just left. For a moment she thought she heard the voice whispering to her again, but she ignored it and continued to follow Mrs. King to the card catalogue. But then an odd thought struck her, what if she was hearing a ghost? What if the library was haunted?

"Em, Mrs. King?"

"Yes, dear?"

She hesitated before asking, "Would ye happen to know if the library is, well, haunted?"

Mrs. King laughed. "The library? Haunted? Oh no, dear, the library isn't haunted. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Aisling replied, suddenly feeling like she'd done something stupid. "I shouldn't have asked."

"Oh that's all right, dear, you wouldn't have asked if you didn't want an answer, now would you?"

"I guess not."

By this time, Aisling and Mrs. King had made it to the card catalogue and were going through it to find all the books on slavery currently available in the library. They worked in relative silence for a while until a title on one of the cards caught Aisling's eye. "Em, Mrs. King? Whereabouts is this book?" she asked, showing her the card.

"Oh, 'An Illustrated History of Slavery'?"

Aisling nodded. "Aye, that's it."

"Why, that book's in the section of the library we just came from."

"You're kiddin'!"

The librarian shook her head. "I'm sorry, dear, but I'm not kidding. If that's the book you want, that section is where you need to go."

Aisling smiled sheepishly, "That's okay, Mrs. King, sorry if I caused ye any trouble."

Mrs. King patted Aisling's arm affectionately, "No trouble at all, dear, it's what I'm here for, and," she smiled, "you may call me Annabelle."

"Thank ye, Mrs. King, I mean, Annabelle."

"You're welcome, dear."

Armed with the card that told her exactly what book to look for, Aisling returned to the place where she first heard the voice. She found the book with little difficulty and quickly took it to one of the study nooks at the back of the building so she could read it in private. While she read, Aisling once again began to feel like she was being watched. Ignoring it as much as she could, Aisling took her notebook and pen out of her backpack and started to take notes.

"Further in," a voice whispered urgently, "Read further in!"

Aisling looked up. "Is someone there?"

The voice didn't answer.

"I must be goin' mad," she muttered, returning to her book. "First sign of madness, that is, startin' to hear things that aren't there."

The silence continued a while longer until Aisling heard the voice whisper "Turn the page!"

By now, Aisling was beginning to feel frightened, "I know I definitely heard somethin' that time!"

"Turn the page!" the voice repeated, no longer speaking in a whisper. Aisling's hand hovered over the page, the corner of the paper bending underneath her fingertips. The voice's insistence that she turn the page confused and frightened her, but also made her strangely curious about what the voice wanted her to see. "TURN THE PAGE!" the voice yelled, causing Aisling to clutch her chest with fright.

"All right, I'll turn the bleedin' page!" she cried, grasping the corner of the page and turning it violently. Aisling gasped when her eyes fell on the photograph that stared up at her from the next page. It was a simple picture of a young woman, about the same age as her, seated between two young men who stood either side of her. They were all smiling, looking genuinely happy, which was unusual considering that the caption said the photo had been taken in the early 1800's and the people she'd seen in other photographs from that time looked far more subdued or severe. She took a deep breath, attempting to regain her composure, and prepared to read the text on the page opposite the photograph.

"The photo on the previous page shows three members of the Underground Railroad who ran a 'station' from their home, a winery in Wabaunsee County, Kansas," she read out loud, "the young woman was named Radha (pronounced Row-ah) Crane, nee O'Connor, who acted as 'Stationmaster', while her husband, Gareth, the young man on her left, and her brother, Finn, the young man on her right, acted as 'Guides', assisting escaped slaves make their way to free states, Canada and Mexico. The 'station' operated for two years, beginning to transport slaves within days of Radha and Gareth's wedding. But it all ended in 1816 when both the Cranes and Mr. O'Connor passed away under mysterious circumstances."

This last piece of information piqued Aisling's interest. "They died, just two years into their marriage? And the brother died too? What happened?" she asked herself thoughtfully, looking for references to other books that might go into more detail about the Crane's deaths. She stood and walked back to the main part of the library, intending to look for Mrs. King. Aisling spotted her at the front desk, helping a little girl and her mother check out some picture books. Once they were gone, Aisling walked over to talk to the librarian. "Mrs. King, I mean, Annabelle," she began, "Would ye happen to know if there are any books about Radha and Gareth Crane, em, about what happened to them? How they died, maybe?"

"Well, there are some books I could recommend for you, dear, but it is a rather delicate subject. Are you sure you want to see them?"

Aisling nodded. "I'm sure, Annabelle, but thank ye for your concern."

Annabelle wrote the titles of the books on a piece of paper and handed it to Aisling. "Here you are, dear."

"Thank ye again, Annabelle," she replied, heading back to the shelves to find the books. In no time at all, even after taking a detour to collect her backpack and return the slavery book to where she'd found it, Aisling returned to the front desk with all of the books on the list and checked them out. Minutes later, she began the short walk from the library to the Vincent Van Gogh-Gogh, trying to think of a way to tell Jesse what she'd discovered.

* * *

"You've told me some wild stories, Aisling," Jesse said as they walked to the Monkee's Pad, "But this one really takes the cake."

Aisling ran her hands through her hair. "I'm really goin' mad this time, ain't I?" she moaned, "Hearin' voices and I don't know where their comin' from, and then I find that photo..."

Jesse gave her a one-armed hug. "You're not going mad," he said, shaking his head, "I mean, maybe it was a sign."

"A sign," she echoed, looking at him incredulously, "A sign of what?"

"These people, they died, right?"

"Aye."

"And no one knows how it happened or why it happened?"

"Aye," Aisling said with a nod, beginning to feel slightly annoyed, "Are ye goin' to tell me somethin' I don't know, Jesse, or do I have to thump ye just to get a straight answer?"

Jesse laughed. "Maybe you're supposed to find out what happened, solve the mystery!"

"Are ye daft? I'm a dancer, Jess, not a bleedin' detective!"

"Yeah, I know that, but someone out there seems to think you are, or you wouldn't be hearing voices, would you?"

"I 'spose so," Aisling sighed as they walked into the Monkees' front yard. "I just hope the voice doesn't decide to come back and harass me while we're practicin'."

"The only one who's gonna harass you around here is me, if you keep worrying about nothing." Jesse grinned. "Come on, the guys are waiting for us, and when I say 'us' I mean you, to dazzle them with our amazing abilities!"

Aisling gave a little smile. Jesse's enthusiasm was more infectious than he realised, not that it was a bad thing, which helped Aisling forget, at least temporarily, about her harrowing morning.

But the voice wasn't quite finished with her yet, as she soon found out.

* * *

The Monkees were about to start their rehearsal when they heard a knock at the door. "That'll be Aisling and Jesse," said Mike, placing his guitar on the stand and moving towards the front door. Sure enough, Aisling and Jesse were standing the doorway, waiting patiently for someone to let them in. While Jesse looked relatively normal, Aisling looked like something was troubling her and she couldn't quite shake it off.

"Hi fellas," Jesse greeted as they entered the Pad. "We're not late, are we?"

Davy grinned. "No, we were just about to start, weren't we Mike?"

Mike nodded as he closed the door behind them. "Yeah, we were."

"Em, I'm goin' to go change," Aisling said nervously, "Lemme know when you wanna start, Jesse."

"Hey Aisling, are you okay?" Mike asked, noticing the haunted look in his friend's eyes as she turned to go to Peter and Davy's bedroom.

She shook her head. "No, I mean, yes, I mean, no..."

"Oh, don't worry about her," said Jesse, putting his arm around Aisling's shoulders, "she just got spooked by something at the library."

Aisling moaned. "I wasn't goin' to tell them that, Jess," she said, adding under her breath, "Not until I know for sure that I'm not goin' crazy." Without saying another word, she picked up her backpack and walked into the downstairs bedroom.

Once she was gone, Mike decided to question Jesse about what Aisling was worried about. "Did she tell you what happened?"

"Not completely, but I managed to some of the story out of her," he replied, "she thinks she's hearing voices, but there's no one else around when it happens, so she thinks she's going crazy."

"Well, she's not bouncin' off the walls, like Micky does," said Mike, "but hearin' voices," he shook his head, "that can't be good."

"At least I'm not bouncin' off the walls, am I?" Aisling echoed as she stood in the doorway of Peter and Davy's bedroom. While she'd arrived wearing jeans, a t-shirt and red sneakers, Aisling had changed into a black, knee-length, halter neck dress, flesh-coloured stockings and black dancing shoes. You could almost hear crickets chirping thanks to the silence she was greeted with, which made her laugh. "Yes, stare at the crazy Irish colleen, why don't ye?"

"If that's what the crazy ones look like," Davy whispered to Micky, under his breath, "I don't want to know what the sane ones do!"

Micky responded by swiping him over the back of the head.

Jesse grinned. "We weren't staring, Aisling, we were just... just..." He frowned when he couldn't think of a decent excuse.

"Talkin' about what happened to me at the library."

"Yeah, sorry."

"No, it's okay," Aisling walked over to Jesse and kissed him on the cheek, "You're just worried about me."

'He's not the only one' thought Mike as he walked back to the bandstand. He picked up his guitar and turned back to the pair of dancers. "Do you wanna start with 'Mary, Mary'?"

Aisling nodded, "Yeah, ye know how I love warmin' up with our Cha-Cha." She looked at Jesse, "Dig?"

Jesse looked pleased, "Dig."

She looked back at Mike and nodded, "Okay then, let's begin."

Mike waited until they'd got into their starting positions and then counted off. He watched as Aisling and Jesse danced to the music, their bodies moving in perfect sync with one another. It half surprised him that they weren't in a relationship, but the connection they maintained when they danced together could fool anybody who didn't know them well enough to realise that they were only acting. But watching Aisling dance that day felt different, like she was holding back or something was holding her back, maybe not physically, but emotionally. Something about her didn't feel right.

Although she was concentrating on her dancing, Aisling knew Mike was watching her and she smiled a little, happy that she had a captive audience.

At least she was, until the voice started talking to her again.

'They're here," it whispered urgently, 'They're both here!' Aisling bit back the urge to yell "Who? Who's here?" at the top of her lungs and continued dancing, despite the fact that the voice's constant presence made her want to grab her things and run all the way home. The song ended and Aisling broke away from Jesse, looking visibly shaken. 'They're both here!' the voice repeated, 'My husband! My brother!'

"Fellas, I think one of ye better get over here and catch me!" Aisling moaned... just before she fainted.

* * *

"Yes, ma'am, I'll drive her home as soon as she wakes up," Mike said, hanging up the phone. "You sure you don't wanna ride home, Jesse?" he asked as he turned to the others.

Jesse shook his head. "No, I'll be fine. Thanks anyway. I'll stay until she wakes up though, then I gotta split."

Mike nodded, "Okay." He sighed. "Look, I'll stay with her; you guys take a walk or somethin'."

"But Mike..." Peter began.

"No buts." Mike sighed again, "I know you're worried about Aisling, man, but she doesn't need all of us hoverin' over her when she wakes up!"

Peter looked at him with worry in his eyes. "Okay, Mike," he replied as he turned and walked out the back door. Micky, Davy and Jesse reluctantly followed behind.

Once they were gone, Mike turned one of the kitchen chairs around and sat down, keeping watch over Aisling, who was lying on the couch. In an unusual turn of events, Mike had been the one to rush over and catch her when she'd fainted, even though Jesse was closer. He just felt strangely protective of her, ever since the day they'd met, and he couldn't figure out why. Not that he complained about it, of course. But there was something special about Aisling O'Callaghan, that was for sure. "Man, I don't know what you're goin' through, Aisling, but I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

"I wouldn't either," Aisling said quietly, opening her eyes a little. "But if it gets me the company of someone like ye, I'll put up with it a bit longer."

Mike grinned. "Glad to know I'm good for somethin'."

"Jesse's not here still, is he?"

"No, I sent them out to the beach, didn't want them crowdin' you."

Aisling couldn't help smiling, also blushing a little bit. "So this wasn't some elaborate plan to get me alone?" She sighed melodramatically, "Not planning to take advantage of me in me weakened state?"

"No!" Mike replied, a little too quickly than necessary. "I mean, no, of course not!" he said, calming down a bit. "How long have you been hearin' the voice?"

"Just today, ever since the library," Aisling admitted, choosing not to mention the photograph the voice had 'helped' her to find. She frowned, "Why, did you hear it too?"

The look on his face showed that he had. "It was faint, but it was there."

"That's why ye sent the others away, isn't it, so they didn't have somethin' else to worry about, yeah?"

He nodded.

"Well, we can't both be goin' crazy, can we?"

Mike leaned back in his chair. "What did it mean by 'my husband, my brother, they're both here'?"

Aisling chewed her lip nervously. "I don't know," she said, "but I'm not sure I want to know. I mean, what if we're gettin' into somethin' that doesn't concern us!?!"

"You haven't been around whenever Davy's fallen in love with a girl and gotten the rest of us into trouble, have you?"

"No, but I've heard the stories," Aisling replied, standing from the couch. "You guys get into enough trouble on your own, ye don't need me doin' it for ye."

Mike said nothing, choosing to stare at her thoughtfully.

"Anyway, I better go change," she continued, "If you're takin' me home, that is."

"Okay, I'll just let the guys know we're leavin'," he replied, standing and walking out the back door to find the others.

'And once I'm home I can start readin' about what happened to both the Cranes and Finn O'Conner,' Aisling thought as she went back into the downstairs bedroom.

* * *

After Mike dropped her off, Aisling immediately locked herself in her bedroom, taking the books she'd borrowed from the library out of her backpack and stacking them on her desk. Staring at them for a moment, she sat down, picked up the first book off the top of the stack and began to read. She learned that Radha and Gareth had met through her brother Finn and had fallen for each other almost immediately, becoming inseparable. "I wish it was like that with Mike and me," she sighed, "If only he knew." She continued reading, quickly finishing each book and moving on to the next, and then the next, and the next, until... "Now they're just repeating themselves!" Aisling cried in dismay. "And I'm not learning anything new about what happened. I mean, there's got to be something in here somewhere that could help me!"

Aisling thought about the photograph in the slavery book. She couldn't show it to anyone, could she? And if she did show someone, what would they say? Something stupid like 'Hey that looks like you!' when it was obvious that she already knew that. She remembered something her grandmother told her once, before her family had moved to America.

"You have an old soul, Aisling," her grandmother said, "You can tell from your beautiful eyes. They show wisdom beyond their years, they do."

"Really Nana?"

Her grandmother nodded. "Aye, they do," she smiled sadly, "And they know that your soulmate is out there somewhere, waitin' for ye to find him."

Aisling smiled. Soulmate. 'It's such a nice word,' she thought, 'I wonder if Radha and Gareth were soulmates?'

"We were." The voice was back. "We thought we were going to be together our entire lives," it continued. "But we were wrong."

Aisling bit her lip and turned her chair in the direction of the voice. "Would there be any way to bring ye back together?" she asked hesitantly, mentally kicking herself for not thinking of talking to the voice in the first place, "Try and make things right?"

"Find our soulmate."

"Our soulmate?"

"You know of whom I speak."

Aisling did know who the voice was talking about. She'd known ever since she found the photograph in the slavery book and she knew who her old soul originally belonged to. She'd believed in reincarnation to a certain extent, but the realisation was overwhelming.

In 1966, she was Aisling O'Callaghan, college student, dancer, and friend to 'The Monkees'.

But in 1816, one hundred and fifty years in the past (give or take a day or two); she had been Radha Crane, sister of Finn O'Conner and wife of Gareth Crane.

"How am I goin' to tell him?" Aisling begged.

"You can't."

"Huh?"

A young woman wearing a flowing white gown appeared before her. Aisling felt like she was looking in a mirror. Radha, the young woman, smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Aisling, but it's too soon. He needs to come to the same conclusion, on his own, without coercion from you, no matter how tempting it may be."

"What about my friend, the one that looks like..."

"You mean the one who was my brother?"

"Yes."

Radha shook her head. "He cannot know either."

"Why not?"

"Your friend, when he was my brother, well, he did some terrible things, things that no one should ever know about," Radha replied, "and if your friend ever learned of those things, the knowledge would destroy him." Aisling opened her mouth to say something, but Radha cut her off, adding, "And before you ask, I cannot tell you those things either, you must discover them for yourself, regardless of the consequences."

Aisling looked at the floor, crestfallen that her question had been shot down before she'd had the chance to ask it. Instead she asked, "My soulmate... does he know that I love him? Does he love me?"

Radha smiled. "Have you asked him?"

"No."

"Then ask him, or, better yet, do something to let him know how you feel about him. I had to do that with Gareth, and since your soulmate was Gareth at the same time you were me, it follows that you will need to do the same again." Radha looked up and nodded, "Yes, I understand," she said quietly, before looking at Aisling. "I have to go now," she said, "But I will return, when it is time for the truth to be revealed and for a terrible wrong to be made right."

"So Jesse was right, I am supposed to solve the mystery behind your deaths, aren't I?"

Radha nodded. "I'm sorry that such a burden had to be placed on your shoulders but..."

"There's a reason for everything, even this and if I have to be the one to fix it, I will. Besides, I was you and he was Gareth, maybe this is your second chance for happiness."

"Maybe it is," said Radha as she faded out of sight. "Maybe it is."

Aisling looked at the spot where Radha's ghost had been. She tried to figure out what to do next and turned back to her desk. One of the books she'd been reading had fallen open to a particular page, one which talked about the winery where Radha, Gareth and Finn had lived. She picked up the book and smiled. 'Thanks for the hint, Radha,' she thought to herself, although she could have sworn she heard someone whisper 'You're welcome,' in her ear.

"Well," she said to no one in particular, "I guess my next course of action is to tell my 'soulmate' that I love him without him looking at me like me head's about to fall off." She sighed. "Oh boy, how am I goin' to get through this one!"

Aisling went to bed, half dreading, half anticipating what the next day would bring.

* * *