“As much as she refused to let her parents see her disappointment, the closer my date to leave grew the more down-hearted Jenifer became. I knew instinctively how hard it was going to be to leave her behind when I set off, but our hands were tied.
“Eventually, the weekend before my trip arrived. Had we have been going together, we would have left first thing on the Saturday morning. But as I was going alone, I decided to postpone my departure until the Monday so that we could spend an enjoyable weekend together, and I could spoil my wife a little as recompense for her disappointment.
“We spent most of Saturday in the west end, shopping. The deal was that as it was part of Jenifer’s treat I would not complain. I had always hated clothes shopping, right back from when my parents used to drag Jane and I up into town when we were small. As much as I loved my wife’s company, it made little odds when she was darting in and out of boutiques and I was made to spend what seemed an eternity sitting outside changing rooms whilst she tried on every dress in the place. Especially when she ended up buying the first dress she tried on!”
There was a smattering of titters from a couple of the men, including Meryl’s husband who received a well-aimed elbow in the ribs for his cheek.
Meryl did not wish to disturb Jonathan while he was speaking, so she mouthed a silent instruction to Mike to replenish the glasses for everyone.
Jonathan continued. “We dined that evening at our favourite restaurant, and on the Sunday, as the weather was uncommonly pleasant for the time of year, Jenifer suggested that we spend the day by the seaside. We had always shared a love of the sea, and never needed an excuse to visit one of the many resorts accessible within a few hours’ drive from London.
“On this particular day, we chose Brighton as our destination as we had not visited it for a while. Being so late in the season we made very good time, and even managed to find a place to park along the front.
“The minute we both stepped out of the car our senses were infused with a heady combination of the usual seaside fare and treats being peddled by the seafront traders. As was our usual habit when visiting the seaside, we both had a modest breakfast so that we could look forward to overindulging in fish and chips, doughnuts, toffee apples, and naturally Jenifer’s favourite, candy floss.
“Jenifer had always been a marvellous swimmer, and her penchant for the sea was quite overwhelming so she had brought her costume so that she could have a dip before we ate lunch. I, on the other hand, was more than happy with our local pool, so while she stripped off into her costume I set out a couple of towels on the beach so that I could watch her swim.
“Jenifer would always swim out too far for my liking but she was not in any way reckless, so she made sure that she did not go out any further than the buoys that had been placed there as a marker. I watched from the beach, squinting into the sunlight until her tiny form almost disappeared from view. I would often catch myself holding my breath until I could see her on the return journey. But I never told her so because I did not want to spoil her fun.
“After her swim Jenifer towelled herself off and changed in one of the toilets along the front, and then we lay in the early afternoon sun for a while to top up the tans we had acquired during the summer. I managed to doze off, but fortunately Jenifer woke me up before I burned. Her swim had given her quite an appetite, so we made our way to a small fish restaurant we knew down one of the lanes where we had always managed to secure a table.
“We decided to walk off our lunch by taking a stroll along the front. As usual we planned on visiting the arcades and funfair later, so we initially headed out in the opposite direction, allowing ourselves plenty for the return journey.
“On our way back, as the pavement was growing more crowded with the arrival of latecomers, we decided to walk along the beach instead. The journey back took far longer than the journey out, mainly because there was a plethora of small craft shops at beach level and Jenifer could not resist stopping off to buy anything unusual that happened to catch her eye. I would always liken her to a child in a sweet shop whenever she was around craft stalls at fairs.
“As we approached the pier, I suggested that we use the next ramp to take us back up to street level. We were about to turn off when something else caught Jenifer’s eye and she began to pull me along, gesturing excitedly towards what appeared to be an old wagon further along the beach. It looked like something from an old Western film which should have had a horse attached to the front of it. The panels - unlike the canvas ones generally seen in the movies - were made of solid wood, and they were decorated with incredibly detailed and ornate paintings of various animals, forests, planets, and the like.
“As we grew closer, I saw the sign outside the wagon which had caused Jenifer to grow so excited. It was an advertisement for a gypsy fortune teller, promising, for a small fee, to reveal your future. Personally, I had never believed in fortune tellers, and table rappers, and people who claimed to be able to speak to the dead. The entire lunatic fringe, as far as I was concerned, were there merely to part gullible individuals from their money.”
Jonathan suddenly slammed his hand across his mouth, and his face grew red.
“I am so sorry,” he said, apologetically, looking at the individual band members. “I did not mean any offence towards any of you, or your traditions. Oh, how stupid of me!”
Melissa leaned over the table and placed her hand on his arm. “Please don’t reproach yourself,” she offered, comfortingly. “We know that you didn’t mean anything by it; please continue with your story, I’m fascinated to know what the fortune-teller told you.”
The others in the band all nodded their agreement and smiled at the old man, as if to convey their agreement with Melissa that they had not taken offence.
Jonathan took a sip of beer to clear his throat before he continued.
He was grateful for the band’s understanding nature, but he still felt foolish that he had allowed his words to slip out without considering their feelings.
“Now,” he continued, “where was I?” Jonathan took a moment to catch up with his train of thought before he continued. “I could tell from Jenifer’s eagerness that she was intent on visiting the wagon. Instinctively I began to pull back as we approached. Sensing my reluctance, Jenifer turned to me with that excitable look on her face that she always wore whenever she wished to convey to me that she desperately wanted to try, or buy, something which she knew I did not share her enthusiasm for. By now I had stopped dead in my tracks, refusing to play along. But, as usual, once Jenifer altered her expression to that of a pleading child, complete with pout and sad eyes, desperate to get her own way, I crumbled.
“Madam Zorha, according to the sign outside her wagon, had travelled the world reading the fortunes of everyone from kings and queens, to film and pop stars, and as a result she was in great demand, which sort of made me wonder why she was reduced to telling fortunes from an old cart on the beach. However, I did not share my concern with my wife. My guilt at having to leave her behind the following day as I set off to Northumberland would be eased, I reasoned, by allowing her this small indulgence without too much complaint on my behalf.”
Four
“Once Jenifer realised that I had relented, as she knew that I would, I was dragged by my sleeve to the door of the wagon. Naturally it was left to me to knock, which I dutifully did by climbing up the short wooden steps which led to the arched door. We did not have to wait long before we were ‘invited’ to enter the inner sanctum when the occupant yelled back at us with an unceremonious, ‘Yes’.
“Leading the way, I tentatively pushed open the door and peered inside. The interior was very badly lit, which I believe was done on purpose to help create a suitable atmosphere. The tiny space was cluttered with all manner of different sized chests and boxes, brimming over, in most cases, with what appeared to be bolts of different coloured cloth. The containers had been arranged in such a way as to allow anyone entering a clear path to the other en
d of the wagon.
“The lighting, such as it was, was subdued to say the least, and my nostrils were immediately assailed by the scent of incense sticks permeating the air. In the far corner there was a small area which had been curtained off but the fabric used was so thin that it barely concealed anything behind it, and squinting through the darkened haze I could just about make out the figure of a small woman seating on a wicker chair, behind a small, oval table.
“I remember turning back as Jenifer gently squeezed my hand, as I was not initially sure if her signal meant that she still wanted to venture in or for us to beat a hasty retreat. As it was she gestured with her head, instructing me to go forward, so I turned back around and called out to ask if it was alright for us to come in. I could just about make out through the misty atmosphere the woman signalling with her hand for us to join her. I gently pulled Jenifer towards me so that she was clear of the door as it slowly closed behind us.
“It might sound a little odd, but as we carefully manoeuvred through the gauntlet of trunks and boxes I remember thinking that the wagon seemed to be emanating a strange aura which immediately made me feel slightly uncomfortable. At the time I put it down to whatever we were inhaling from the incense, but when I spoke to Jenifer about it later that evening, she confessed to having had the same impression upon entering.
“We made our way steadily towards the flimsy fabric which acted as the partition, and once we were close enough to be able to see the woman behind the curtain properly I felt obliged to ask again if it was ok for us to be there. Once more the gypsy gestured without speaking for us to move forward, and once we were both through the curtain she signalled towards the two chairs which were placed opposite her for us to sit down.
“As we took our seats, Jenifer and I quickly shot each other a nervous glance. It was very easy within the confines of that wooden sarcophagus to forget that we were actually at the beach on a bright and sunny day, and that just outside there were throngs of happy revellers enjoying the lovely weather. For the fact of the matter was, once the door had closed behind us, all sound from outside was completely eradicated.
“The woman who by now, as we were so close, we could tell looked extremely old and wrinkly, one might almost say wizened, closed her eyes and began muttering to herself as she gently rocked back and forth in her chair. We both sat there in the brooding atmosphere for what seemed like an eternity, neither of us feeling confident enough to dare disturb the old woman’s incantations. Eventually she stopped speaking and looked up at us both before holding her hand out.
“I took the hint, and retrieving my wallet from my back pocket I took out a pound note and placed it squarely in the centre of her palm. There were no prices advertised anywhere inside or out, so I presumed that a pound should cover our session. But when the old gypsy kept her hand out without even acknowledging the money I had given her, I realised that I had been mistaken.
“I considered placing a ten-shilling note over the pound in her palm but decided instead that another pound should seal the deal and if it did not, then I would speak up and ask outright how much she demanded for her services. Although I knew how excited Jenifer was about having her fortune told, I also knew that if the cost was too exorbitant that she would not insist that we stay.
“Luckily, the old woman closed her hand around the notes and placed them securely in a pocket in her skirt. I must admit, I did breathe a silent sigh of relief that we were not about to enter a bartering contest with the old woman.
“The old woman reached back over the small table and held both her hands out, palms up. Jenifer and I both took the initiative and placed our right hands, palms-up, in one of hers, respectively. She studied our palms for a couple of minutes without speaking. We just sat there, trying our best to keep still, even though to me especially the situation was starting to resemble something from a television comedy sketch.
“Finally, the old woman started to speak, although she kept her gaze firmly locked on our hands which I must admit felt a little odd, but I played along for Jenifer’s sake more than anything.”
“You are both share good health,” she announced, in her broken English, “and there is happiness in your hearts.”
“Then she paused for a moment as she continued to study our palms.”
“One of you work not good, dull, no excitement.”
“At this point she looked up at me, and pointed with her index finger.”
‘You do not enjoy occupation as much as you hoped, but you work hard.”
“She then glanced over to Jenifer.”
“Your work artistic, good for you, but you also have talent to expand your success into other work you have not discovered yet”.
“We both exchanged glances. The gypsy woman was spot on as far as I was concerned. My position at the bank had grown increasingly tedious over the past year, but just as she had stated I could not afford to leave and wait for something else to come along, and by that same token I had no idea what else I might want to do instead anyway.
“As for Jenifer, again the old lady was right on the money. She loved her job working with her father, and she had already demonstrated her aptitude for turning her hand towards most things artistic. Therefore, it was perfectly plausible that in time she might discover other strings to her bow, which in time could prove to be even more lucrative that her photography.
“I confess that by this point I was beginning to grow a little more intrigued by what the gypsy had to say. I was impressed by the fact that she had not asked us any questions about our circumstances before launching into her incredibly accurate description of our domestic lives. It was possible, of course, that she was exceptionally observant, and having noticed the wedding ring on Jenifer’s finger and seeing the two of us together she managed to hazard a guess that we were both very ‘happy’ and ‘healthy’. But her reflections concerning our employment could hardly have been gleaned from our appearance or demeanour, so she deserved at least a modicum of kudos for that alone.
“The old woman continued in much the same vein for a little while longer. She picked up on the fact that my parents had both passed on and that I had a sibling, whereas Jenifer was an only child. She even manged to describe with some accuracy the place where we first met, right down to the fact that we first spoke to each other about ‘something sugary’, which I took to mean Jenifer’s candy floss and the incident at the concert.
“After a few more minutes the old woman released our hands and we both retracted them, simultaneously. It was odd, but for a couple of seconds I could feel a strange tingling sensation running through my fingers so I instinctively started to shake my hand and make a fist to try to relieve the feeling. Jenifer too, I noticed, commenced a similar action with hers, although she was far more discreet about it than me.
“The gypsy turned in her chair and, with a slight strain, lifted a cloth-covered object from a nearby stand and placed it in the middle of the table. She muttered a few incomprehensible words under her breath, and then she whipped off the cloth to reveal a large spherical glass ball lodged in what appeared to be a metallic claw-like holder.
“Jenifer and I both exchanged a furtive glance. As impressed as we both were with the old lady’s predictions thus far, the sudden introduction of a crystal ball into the mix seemed to give the proceedings an air of pantomime. Jenifer managed to keep a straight face; nonetheless I received a sharp kick under the table as I struggled to supress a laugh.
“The old gypsy either did not notice or just chose to ignore my schoolboy antics, as she kept her gaze focused on the glass sphere. Once I had managed to subdue my juvenile behaviour we both sat in silence once more, awaiting the next instalment from our host.
“I watched intently as the old woman squinted into her crystal ball, the expression on her face etched with a combination of curiosity and profound wisdom. She cupped her hands around the sides of the glass orb, but kept them just far away enough so as not to actually make contact with the
surface. She stayed like that for several minutes, her focus completely transfixed by whatever she could see in the crystal.
“Suddenly her hands sprang away from the glass orb as if some immense heat was emanating from it, and she threw herself back into her chair. She moaned out loud, almost to the point of screaming, and clamped her palms against her ears as if to try to block out some unearthly sound.
“Jenifer and I looked at each other in bewilderment. I must confess that still being somewhat sceptical about the entire episode I began to wonder if this was some well-rehearsed kind of confidence trickery, designed to make us leave without receiving our money’s worth. But my cynicism was soon erased when the old gypsy thrust her hand into her pocket and retrieved the two pounds which I had paid her earlier, before flinging them across the table towards me.”
“There’s nothing today! You go, please, no more today, go, go!”
“As she spoke, she indicated with her hands so that we were in no two minds that she wanted us gone. For a moment Jenifer and I just sat there in stunned silence. The thought crossed my mind that perhaps the old gypsy was annoyed because I had seemed amused earlier when she first produced her crystal ball, but then I reasoned that if she was truly annoyed with me she would not have wasted so much time studying the ball before insisting that we leave. Furthermore, the fact that she had returned our money seemed an odd thing for her to do if her reason for wanting us out was because I had not shown her the necessary respect.
“The old woman rose from her seat in such a hurry that the movement sent her chair falling backwards behind her. This sudden feat spurred Jenifer and I into action, and we both stood up together and turned to leave. I wanted to stay long enough to apologise formerly just in case I had actually said, or done, something to upset the gypsy, but Jenifer grabbed hold of my hand in such a way that I knew instinctively that she wanted to leave at once.
Ghost Song Page 4