Cherry cocked her head at him. ‘I guess you don’t want to know what I see for you, then?’
‘You’ll tell me anyway,’ Chase said without looking up. ‘I think you’re a bit of a show-off.’
‘What do you mean?’ Cherry narrowed her eyes as Chase gestured all around them.
‘This bakery. You don’t set something like this up if you don’t want everyone to adore you and what you do for them.’
‘That’s not what this is,’ Cherry said, taking her tea towel from her shoulder to wipe the sweat off of her hands. She looked around at everything she’d created. The top half of the chalkboard wall was a unique guestbook, full of positive messages from customers, and the bottom half was full of drawings from the younger customers. Everyone who was currently in the bakery looked content, unaware of what Cherry was doing for them. This place was a haven, a safe space not only for those who stumbled across it but for herself too. This was a place where bad feelings were left behind and good ones were created. What she was doing was no different than an anonymous donation to a charity, or leaving a five-pound note in a library book for the next person to buy themselves a coffee. An anonymous act of love and compassion. While her customers enjoyed Cherry’s baking, they’d never quite know what she was doing for them and just how much she was helping them.
‘Of course it is.’ Chase’s voice broke through Cherry’s thought. ‘And not only that but you’re kind of exploiting everyone’s pain too.’
‘Now just a minute!’ Cherry threw the tea towel down on the counter.
‘No need to get flustered!’ Chase smiled, pleased with himself. ‘I’m just telling you how it is. You’ve come up with a way to make money off everyone’s misery. It’s quite impressive. Wish I’d thought of it.’ He stuffed a large bite of cake into his mouth and chewed it loudly and sloppily.
‘I help people!’ Cherry said, her voice rising. Sally’s eyes flickered in their direction and Cherry took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted was for Bruce to come barging in and getting defensive on her behalf. While she appreciated how much of a shine he’d taken to her and the bakery, this was a conversation she didn’t want anyone to hear.
‘Sure you do, sweetheart.’ Chase put yet another forkful of cake into his mouth. Irritated, Cherry snatched the plate away and he laughed.
‘This isn’t much of an apology.’ Cherry felt a heat race through her body and up to her face.
‘No, I suppose it’s not.’ Chase held up his hands, still smiling. He looked at her steadily, the sneer on his face softening into something almost rueful. The knot in Cherry’s stomach tightened. ‘I really am sorry that I got so angry yesterday. I’ve never met anyone like me before and it took me by surprise. I didn’t know how to react, so I didn’t react well.’
‘That’s an understatement,’ Cherry snapped. ‘Quite a big understatement.’
‘Maybe.’ Chase shrugged. ‘Either way, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have behaved towards you like that. That being said, I do stand by what I’ve said here today. You are taking advantage of people and actually, it’s given me a marvellous idea.’
‘Idea? What idea?’ A sense of unease spread through Cherry.
‘Think of it as a gift. Better get baking, Mary Berry. You’re not going to know what’s hit you,’ he said with a finality that chilled Cherry to the bone. He stood to leave.
‘I don’t see what you see,’ Cherry said, catching his attention before he could leave. ‘We’ve both been dealt very different hands from the same dealer and while you see the good in people, I see the worst. I’d think twice before trying to hurt someone who has seen the darkest side of you.’
‘Everyone’s seen the darkest side of me. I’ve never tried to hide it.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘I’m not trying to hurt you, Cherry. I’m trying to learn from you.’ And with that, he left.
Bruce raced over to check that Cherry was OK but Sally remained where she was. She shuffled her cards for a final time and directed her energy towards Chase, watching him storm away. She flipped the top card from left to right and staring up at her was the The Magician, but reversed.
For the first time in his entire life Chase felt a fire in his belly. He’d always known he was special, that his abilities made him different from everyone else, but he’d shunned them in order to be less like his family, to distance himself from their fraudulent ways. Now, however, he had a plan to make life a little more interesting. Finally, he’d found a purpose not only to make his days worthwhile but to earn himself a decent living too.
Chase stood outside the Plymouth Gin Distillery and grinned.
Mischief wriggled in between Frustration and Cynicism, centre stage at last.
The Tower
‘Those who look for the bad in people will surely find it.’
Abraham Lincoln
9
The Rivalry Begins
Cherry had never had enemies. She had always been too reserved and too quiet to make friends, let alone have anyone notice her enough to actually turn on her. But now she was sure that she had an enemy in Chase and she already knew she didn’t like it.
‘What did he mean, he’s trying to learn from me?’ Cherry paced up and down the bakery later that evening once she’d closed up. ‘What does that even mean? What is he going to try?’
Bruce and Sally had kindly offered to stay and chat for a while, to make sure Cherry was all right before they went home. Margie had seen their silhouettes on her way home from work and had come to investigate so she was helping Cherry wipe down the tables. Cherry loved that she’d made friends and had people to talk to but she had to tread carefully and be mindful of what she was saying. No one knew her secret. Except for Chase.
‘I haven’t the foggiest,’ Bruce said, scratching his stubbled chin. ‘He’s always been an odd chap. Never managed to get any of his businesses off the ground.’
‘Businesses?’ Cherry asked.
‘Yeah. He’s made several attempts,’ Bruce said with a wry smile. ‘A delivery service, personalised Christmas decorations, he was even a driving instructor for a while but all his students kept crying. Even tried getting a normal job once, too, in the local pub, but he didn’t make it easy for himself. He insisted on flair bartending. He was actually quite good and it would have gone well if he hadn’t been such a wind-up merchant. After a few words from him, a brawl would always kick off.’
‘“Flair bartending”? Never heard of it.’ Cherry shook her head.
‘It’s where those show-offs who think they’re clever take twenty minutes to pour you a drink because they’re too busy flipping the bottles and glasses about. It’s funny when they drop ’em though,’ Bruce laughed.
‘I always quite like watching it,’ Margie said quietly. ‘It’s like Cirque du Soleil for alcohol.’
‘I suppose it is.’ Bruce smiled at Margie and she blushed. ‘It’s not the flair bartending so much as Chase himself. He’s just not a pleasant sort. He’s not like you, Cherry.’ Cherry batted the air like she was swatting away his compliment. ‘I mean it. You’re a breath of fresh air in this town. No one wants to work with Chase or help him and he’s too proud to ask. Too arrogant, even. Thinks he doesn’t need the help of people like us to succeed. Shame really. He’s very bright. Just a bit… misguided.’
‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Cherry. He’s a strange one – always has been,’ Sally reassured her, but Cherry couldn’t help but worry. Besides Peter, Cherry had never met anyone like her. As a child she’d dreamed of entire families who had the same ability she had, and who all used it to help those around them and do some good. She hoped that one day she would find a family of her own somewhere in among the people who saw the world as she did. Cherry had never expected there to be so few like her and she certainly never expected someone like Chase Masters to share her gift. He was too wild, too untamed. Cherry got the impression that he saw his ability as an affliction rather than something to hone and embrace and use to help others. Ch
erry worried about what that might mean for both of them, living in such close proximity, and already adversaries. It also made Cherry want to help him.
‘What do you expect from the son of a palm reader! Oh – sorry, Sally. No offence intended,’ Margie said, colouring in embarrassment at her faux pas.
‘None taken, love. We’re an odd sort of person and I’m sure if I’d had children they’d be just as mad as me,’ Sally said kindly.
‘He’s the son of a palm reader?’ Cherry asked.
‘Yes. His mother and aunt run that fortune-telling place in The Barbican together,’ Sally said.
Cherry remembered the woman who had poked her head out of the shop on the day she’d visited The Barbican, the day she’d met Chase, and wondered if it had been his mother or his aunt. Sally was twirling one finger by the side of her head and crossing her eyes at Margie who couldn’t help but snigger.
‘You think they’re mad?’ Cherry asked, surprised. ‘Aren’t you all in the same profession?’
‘It’s one thing to entertain folk with your ideas of what their future could be, based on cards they draw. It’s another to claim supernatural powers and charge people large sums of money for guesswork masquerading as fact!’ Sally was talking quickly, her voice rising. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry.’
Bruce put a calming hand on her shoulder. Cherry couldn’t help but notice Margie’s eyes flicking towards that affectionate touch and then looking quickly back down at her feet.
‘I just get wound up by people who give others false hope,’ Sally explained. ‘I tell all the people I read for to take everything I say with a pinch of salt. Everyone’s future is like a work of art. It can be interpreted in many ways and even then it will constantly change with every decision you make. Everything I say is factual at that moment in time but by the time you’ve made another decision, something as simple as having tea instead of coffee or ice cream instead of chocolate, you’ve started down another path that could lead to another future. A future that hasn’t been read yet.’
‘“It’s the future, love. It’s always changing.”’ Cherry repeated Sally’s words back to her and Sally’s smile widened, her expression full of affection for her friend.
‘Exactly.’
‘Do you have to book an appointment to see them?’ Cherry asked.
‘Who? Madame Velina?’ Sally said, taking Bruce’s hand in her own.
‘Is that his mother?’ Cherry asked.
‘Yes,’ Sally replied, tracing the lines on Bruce’s palm with her fingertip. ‘His aunt is Madame Danior. Their shop is usually pretty quiet so I’m sure you could just walk in and see them. Or book an appointment for later,’ she added, her voice quiet.
‘Oh, Sally. I’m not going for a reading,’ Cherry reassured her, realising she must have been hurt by the idea of Cherry wanting to see her rivals. She knelt by Sally’s chair and took her other hand. ‘I’m going to talk to them about Chase. I want to find out more about him and maybe understand why he’s suddenly got it in for me. You’re the only fortune teller I need – you’re the best one I know.’
‘I’m a silly old fool,’ Sally said, wiping away a tear. ‘Just promise me you’ll be careful with those two.’
‘Are they really that terrible?’ Cherry said.
‘They both just like to… push the boundaries.’
‘The boundaries of what?’ Cherry asked.
‘Of what is morally right.’
10
Amateur
‘Do you have anything with alcohol in it?’
If she’d had a brother, Cherry thought that he’d be a lot like George Partridge – except that George was white. But his character was playful and he had a lovely brotherly temperament that made her long for a family of her own and the two of them had a lot in common. Well, apart from Cherry’s love for reading and George being possibly the only librarian in the world who hated books.
‘It’s only just lunchtime!’ she scolded good-naturedly before fetching George’s regular treat(ment) from the kitchen. She set the Encouraging Eclair before him, hoping it would help battle the Defeat that was banging its head repeatedly against the doorframe. She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Why are you a librarian, George? You have a new story every day about a visitor who’s wound you up. Remember last week? That girl who asked you if you could tell her about a book she’d read once but couldn’t remember the title or the author?’
‘Yes, I remember. She got cross when I said I couldn’t possibly know which book she was talking about. Threw a magazine at me,’ George said.
‘You did tell her to sling her hook,’ Cherry reminded him.
‘Maybe I deserved it. That man who calls up once a week and places his Chinese takeaway order called again yesterday. These days I just tell him it’ll be forty-five minutes and hang up.’
‘You don’t?!’ Cherry laughed.
‘I do. It’s just easier!’ George chuckled.
‘Why are you a librarian, George?’ Cherry asked again.
‘Because my mum’s one. Her mum was one. Her mum was one. And so it goes on. That library essentially belongs to every generation of my family. It just means my life hasn’t turned out anything like in the books I let everyone borrow.’ George swept his blond hair back to reveal his sorrowful blue eyes. ‘I wanted to be a vet. I love animals,’ he sighed.
‘I can tell.’ Cherry smiled at his blue and cream knitted jumper that had cats all over it. ‘So, why can’t you become a vet? It’s never too late, George.’ Cherry tried to sound encouraging but she was going to have to let the eclair do its work. George’s scrunched-up face told her he was very much done with talking about what might have been.
‘I can’t let Mum down like that. I just… can’t do it,’ he said, taking a bite out of one end of his eclair, cream sloshing out of the other. ‘Tell me, do you ever go out around here?’
‘Erm… I haven’t. Not really. I mean, I don’t often leave the… well… I could… it’s just…’ Cherry’s cheeks started burning.
‘Hey, now. No need to panic. I just never see you out anywhere other than in here and I thought you could do with a friend to show you around. Nothing more, nothing less.’ George’s face was kind. Beautiful but kind and Cherry hoped he felt that brotherly vibe towards her as much as she felt that sibling-like attachment to him. She took a breath.
‘Actually, that sounds lovely.’
‘Oh. So you wear pyjamas… everywhere?’ George said.
‘You’re one to talk. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear anything other than an animal jumper.’ She prodded him with one finger as she stepped out of the bakery, wearing a red cardigan and black pyjamas.
‘Touché.’
‘So where are we off to?’
‘The Gin Distillery! Probably one of the most famous things Plymouth has to offer, it’s not too far away in case you decide it’s too much and want to come home and apparently the cocktails in the bar are delicious. Thoughts?’ He offered her his arm.
‘I am rather partial to a gin and tonic. Let’s go.’
But when they arrived, they couldn’t even get near the distillery as the street was full of people bustling around, all waiting to get inside.
‘What on Earth… it’s never like this! It’s just a little distillery with a bar! Not that it’s not worth seeing,’ George said quickly, obviously worried that Cherry would think he’d brought her somewhere boring. ‘Excuse me?’ he called out as they neared the group. ‘What’s going on here? Is there some kind of… free drinks promotion? Or a private event?’
‘It’s this new flair bartender they’ve got in,’ a bloke near the door said. The woman he was with was craning her neck desperately to see inside each time the door opened. ‘His flairing is good but it’s his drinks that everyone’s talking about. Apparently they’re incredible. Trouble is, because of him, it’s hard to even get inside.’
‘Flair bartending?’ The blood drained from Cherry’s face.
Even tried getti
ng a normal job once, too, in the local pub, but he didn’t make it easy for himself. He insisted on flair bartending. He was actually quite good…
‘Cherry? Cherry!’
But she was gone, pushing through the crowd and causing people to yell profanities at her as she shoved past them. George kept apologising on her behalf but he couldn’t keep up with her and Cherry soon lost him in the crowd. There was no security on the door – they clearly weren’t prepared for this level of custom – so Cherry ducked inside. It was completely rammed and the noise of people yelling their orders was deafening. Cherry saw Chase’s Meddlums immediately. The three of them were sitting on one of the many shelves that were filled with bottles of gin. Frustration and Cynicism had their hands on Mischief’s shoulders, cheering it on as it downed shot after shot of neat gin. As Cherry pushed in closer and closer, Chase came into view. He was behind the bar, twirling a silver cocktail shaker in one hand and pouring sloe gin into a glass with the other. As though he could sense her presence, he looked up and caught her eye. He grinned at her. Cherry didn’t return his smile. He beckoned her forward and two well-dressed men in blue blazers let her past.
‘What can I getcha, darling?’ Chase asked, leaning towards her across the bar.
‘An explanation. What are you doing?’
‘Nothing you haven’t already done.’
‘Another Negroni when you’re ready, mate!’ another customer called.
‘Coming right up, sir!’ Chase’s hands moved deftly, whipping up the order in no time at all. One part gin, one part Campari, one part sweet red vermouth.
‘Watch this,’ Chase said to Cherry, his expression innocent.
He bent down to the floor behind the bar, the customer’s drink still in his hand. Cherry had to lean so far over the bar that her feet came off the ground but she could just about see Chase making a strange movement with his cheeks.
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