Born to Be Trouble

by Sheila Jeffries

  ‘Yes,’ Freddie said heavily. ‘It’s the words of the Romany Gypsy, Madame Eltura. Like I told you, she sat me in front of a crystal ball. She didn’t know me, and she didn’t know you’d been born the same day – early morning, you were born.’

  It felt wrong to tear the ancient envelope. Tessa took the silver paperknife from a jam jar and neatly slit the top. She sat down on the deep window sill, her eyes racing over the words Freddie had written so long ago.

  ‘I don’t want it to – to unsettle you,’ he said anxiously.

  Tessa read both sides of the paper. Her spine shivered like it had done at Stonehenge when she’d felt the Kundalini.

  THE WORDS OF MADAME ELTURA

  A baby has been born to you, and her name begins with a T. She is no ordinary child. Indeed she is a star-child, and she is destined to be a spiritual healer and medium. She has a great gift. But, I must warn you; this child will have a difficult life with many troubles. She will try to take her life, for she will be misunderstood, misjudged and blamed by those who think her gifts are evil. You must guard and guide her as best you can, for when she is a young woman there will come a time of sorrow for you all, and it will begin with a fire. I see a fire. Take care. Take great care and allow this child to always listen to spirit. You, and she, are one of us – no, I don’t mean Romany Gypsies, but psychic clairvoyants. The gift has been in your family for generations, and you have repressed it because you were told it is evil. Am I right? (She was right!) This child has been born to finally bring that gift into use, into the light. Don’t try to stop her, for she is unstoppable, and her gift will help you through the time of sorrow I have mentioned. For her it will be the dawning of a New Age where she will be one of many Earth Angels who have incarnated at this time.

  Tessa felt a smile opening up her face. She wanted to jump up and down with excitement. ‘But Dad! This is totally me. Absolutely who I am. Why did you hide it away like that? It’s not BAD.’

  Freddie dragged the desk chair over to the window and sat close to her. ‘I didn’t want you to go through what I did, Tessa. I was called a liar – my father got in such a temper over it, smashed every cup and plate in the kitchen. And me brother threw me against a wall for saying I’d seen an angel. And it HURT, Tessa. It still does.’ He was close to tears. Tessa reached out and held his hand while he continued. ‘And what hurt the most was that – the angel I saw, it was MARVELLOUS, it was the best, most beautiful, inspiring thing that ever happened to me, and to be ridiculed and punished for it, in front of all the family, felt like the end of my life, as if my soul had been driven out of my body – beaten and driven out. I never got over it – turned it into anger, and anger into fear, and loneliness – you know, loneliness of the soul.’

  ‘I do know.’ Tessa couldn’t bear it. She hugged him close, her arms wrapped around his head, and she sensed the pain in him, the wound never healed. ‘It’s all right, Dad. It will come right, especially now you’ve got me. You’ve helped me all my life, Dad, and now I’m going to help you.’

  She felt him breathing against her, and his steady old heartbeat. She sent him silent, caring love, the way he had so often done for her, and when he could speak again, he said, ‘Then – when I met Kate – she became my shining angel, and she encouraged me with everything I wanted to do. She’s made me, Kate has, made me live again. And you – and Lucy.’ He was silent again for a few minutes. ‘But – those words, Tessa – the fire Madame Eltura said – well, that’s happened, hasn’t it?’

  ‘And we’ve got over it,’ Tessa said.

  He looked up at her, gratefully. ‘Sometimes you sound just like Kate.’

  She smiled. ‘It will be okay, Dad. I can handle all the spiritual stuff. I love it, and I’ve got Starlinda to help me.’

  ‘But what about the time of sorrow?’ Freddie asked. ‘What’s going to happen?’

  CHAPTER 18

  Oriole Kate

  A few months’ later, on a crisp autumn day, Kate stood on Paddington Station feeling bewildered. She had never been in such a crowd of hurrying people in her life. None of them look happy, she thought, studying the faces. No one looked at her. No one smiled. Is this where Tessa lives? she thought. How can she bear it?

  She’d caught the train from Castle Cary, leaving Freddie standing on the platform gazing after the departing train, his eyes glistening with worry. He didn’t want her to go, but Kate was determined. She needed to see Tessa, and for once she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  They’d agreed to meet at WH Smith, but the station was huge and echoing. Kate couldn’t even see the bookstall.

  ‘Mum!’

  She was relieved to see Tessa’s chestnut hair bobbing as she ran across the station, and glad to see her daughter’s welcoming smile. ‘Ooh – aren’t I pleased to see you, dear. I was feeling like a proper country bumpkin. All these people. I’ve never been in such a place. Thank you for coming to meet me. I enjoyed my trip on the train. The autumn colours are so lovely this year.’

  ‘You look different, Mum,’ Tessa said. ‘You’ve lost weight.’

  ‘Yes, dear. I’m having to take my skirts in, or they’ll be falling down.’ She laughed cheerfully.

  ‘Even your legs have gone thin, Mum. Are you on a diet?’

  ‘No, dear.’ Kate met her daughter’s questioning eyes. She’s too young to have this happen to her, she thought, and swallowed, trying not to cry, not yet. They’d have fun first, go on a boat down the Thames. Eat lunch. Stroll around Westminster Abbey. Five hours before the train would take her home. Supposing this is the last time I ever see Tessa? Kate thought. She made herself smile. ‘Where shall we go first? I can’t wait to see London.’

  ‘Something’s wrong, Mum, isn’t it?’ Tessa’s eyes were serious, and very adult, Kate thought. She nodded silently.

  ‘Let’s get a coffee.’ Tessa picked up Kate’s bag. ‘We can do the sightseeing after we’ve talked. I’ve got lots to tell you.’ She steered Kate across Paddington Station and out into Praed Street. ‘This is a good place. We can be quiet in here,’ she said, and they sat in the far corner of a coffee bar with high-backed red seats. A sort of cubby hole from the turmoil of London.

  ‘Goodness me!’ Kate looked in astonishment at the shallow glass cups of expresso coffee Tessa brought her on a tray. ‘What a lot of froth. What do you do with it? I mean – how do you get to the coffee underneath?’

  Tessa giggled. ‘You just go for a frothy moustache, Mum.’

  Kate’s eyes twinkled with amusement. She took a teaspoon and spooned the offending froth into her saucer. ‘Is this the way Londoners take their coffee? What WOULD Freddie think?’

  ‘They make scrumptious pancakes in here if you feel like one, smothered in whipped cream and maple syrup.’

  ‘But it’s not Pancake Day, dear,’ Kate said. ‘That’s Shrove Tuesday.’

  ‘No one cares about Shrove Tuesday in London. You can have a Morello cherry one too. Dad would love it.’

  ‘It’s a different world from our little Monterose,’ Kate said, sipping her coffee. ‘Now, I want to hear all your news, Tessa. How’s Paul?’

  ‘He’s okay – a bit stressed by auditions. He’s applying for jobs now. He wants to get into a good orchestra.’

  ‘And – how’s married life?’

  ‘It’s not brilliant,’ Tessa said. ‘But I don’t want to talk about it, Mum.’

  Kate knew better than to push Tessa for answers, but it saddened her. ‘Freddie and I were always so happy. Don’t you find London difficult?’

  ‘In some ways. But London’s exciting too.’ Tessa’s eyes brightened. ‘I’m studying astrology now at night school. And I go every week to a psychic development circle with Starlinda. I’m learning so much about healing and mediumship.’

  ‘TESSA!’ Kate looked shocked. ‘Mediumship?’

  ‘I’ve got a gift, Mum, and I intend to use it. Isn’t that what gifts are for? Don’t look so alarmed. I’m not doing anything wrong!’
r />   ‘But – Tessa . . .’ Kate was speechless.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mum. I’m in charge of my life now.’

  ‘You certainly are. What does Paul think about it?’

  ‘He doesn’t know.’

  ‘Why? Why not?’

  ‘He’d disapprove – and so would his family – well, his mum would anyway. Their minds are closed. It’s so sad.’

  Kate stared hard at the confident young woman in front of her. Is this really our daughter? she thought, remembering the troubled little girl Tessa had been. ‘We tried so hard to guide you – and Lucy,’ she said, bewildered.

  ‘You can’t guide another soul,’ Tessa said. ‘I didn’t feel guided. I felt repressed.’

  ‘Repressed? Surely not’

  Tessa reached across the table and took her mother’s hand. Kate noticed Violetta’s ring sparkling very brightly. ‘Sorry, Mum, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you and Dad so much – but I’ve needed to detach, and to find myself.’

  Kate nodded. ‘I’m proud of you, Tessa. I love you, and I want this to be a happy meeting – it could be . . .’ Again she felt the words rise and fall back, like something knocking on a door, persistently.

  ‘What is it, Mum?’ Tessa looked at her with a steady, knowing gaze. Like Freddie, Kate thought, overwhelmed by Tessa seeming older than her, not just a few years, but centuries older.

  ‘Mum?’

  Kate took a deep, shaky breath. ‘I’m not too well, dear. And I want you to promise me that what I tell you now is strictly between us. Freddie must not know.’

  ‘Okay.’ Tessa waited, listening intently.

  ‘He MUST NOT KNOW,’ repeated Kate. ‘But I know, because I was a nurse, you see. I have cancer. Do you know what that is?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  Kate immediately noticed Tessa going pale. She remembered how sensitive she’d been as a child, how terrified of illness or injury. ‘I need you to be strong for me, Tessa. Can you?’

  Time stood still as Tessa nodded silently. The sound of traffic faded, and it was just the two of them, in a bubble of pain, in a corner of a café, somewhere in London. Kate started to cry, and Tessa got up, swiftly, and moved around the table to sit beside her mum and put her arm around her shoulders.

  ‘It’s in my blood, and in my lymph glands,’ Kate said in a quiet, rasping voice, her eyes darkening. ‘It started in my ovaries, and now it’s everywhere.’

  ‘Can they cure it?’ Tessa asked.

  ‘No. I – need you to understand that, dear, please. But of course I’m trying and hoping to get better. What I don’t understand, and can’t accept, is WHY? Why me?’

  Tessa shut her eyes and held her mother tightly, remembering how she herself had sat with Dorothy in the crypt of St Stephen’s, asking the same question, Why? Why me?

  ‘Don’t torment yourself with WHY, Mum,’ Tessa said. ‘And don’t give up hope. You could get better, surely?’

  Kate tried to salvage her remaining shreds of courage. ‘No, we won’t give up hope. I feel better already, for telling you.’

  ‘Does Lucy know?’

  ‘No. How could I tell Lucy in an airmail letter? She’s so far away. I made up my mind to tell only you. I trust you not to tell Freddie. It’s best for him, I know it is.’

  ‘I want to spend time with you, Mum. I want that so much. I feel as if I’ve only just begun to appreciate you,’ Tessa said.

  Kate brightened. ‘Well – we’ve got today. It’s a lovely day. Let’s not waste it.’ She dried her eyes with an embroidered hanky. Then she managed a smile and wagged her finger at Tessa. ‘I want you to understand this,’ she said, with conviction. ‘If I do get better, everything will be all right, and if I don’t get better, it will still be all right.’

  Christmas came and the rift with Paul deepened when Tessa refused to spend it with his family. She honoured the promise she’d made to Kate, and told no one about the cancer. But it was constantly in her mind, and she felt Christmas was now a bittersweet time. It could be Kate’s last Christmas, and only Tessa was allowed to know. She went down to Monterose on her own, in the car, a Ford Anglia, bought with the insurance money from the fire. Another bone of contention with Paul. She was glad he didn’t go with her.

  She spent as much time as possible with her mum, helping her decorate the tree, going to the carol singing in the market square, cooking Christmas dinner and pulling crackers. Tessa found it unbearably poignant and stressful. She longed to go to the field and see the spring, but instead she drove Kate up to the ridgeway in the frost, and they strolled together looking at frosted grasses and the blue hills in the distance. Kate talked and talked, about her early life at Hilbegut, about the wartime years and about happy childhood times with her and Lucy. She didn’t once mention the sad times, and she kept hope alive, popping in comments like, ‘I might get better, when the spring comes,’ or ‘The doctor’s trying some new pills on me’. She joked about her regular hospital visits. ‘I count my blessings,’ she said, often, ‘and you are one of them, Tessa – and so is the little cat. She’s been such a comfort to me.’

  Freddie stayed by the fire, roasting chestnuts and reading, with Benita stretched blissfully on the warm hearth rug. When Kate and Tessa returned, he showed Tessa a heavy old book with gold-rimmed pages. ‘This is Granny Barcussy’s history book – it’s a rare book on Somerset – and it mentions your spring, Tessa. Here – you read it.’

  ‘Thanks, Dad.’ Tessa squealed with excitement as she read the page he’d marked. ‘This is awesome.’

  ‘Ah – I remembered what your friend – Starlinda – said about a Holy Well, and I reckoned it could be the source of the Mill Stream in your field.’

  ‘It definitely was!’ Tessa cried. ‘There’s a map – look – and a drawing of how it looked. Wow! It was built and used by the Romans – and then the Victorians used it for medicinal purposes. The water has a high mineral content and people used it for healing – wow!’ Her eyes shone with excitement. ‘I dream of restoring it, Dad, and using it again.’

  ‘You can’t do that,’ Freddie warned. ‘Cost a fortune, it would – and nobody’s going to go up there for healing in this day and age.’

  ‘Well, that went down like a lead balloon,’ Kate joked, and threw a piece of orange peel at Freddie. ‘You’re being negative, dear.’

  ‘I’ll be earning a lot of money when I’m a practising clairvoyant medium,’ Tessa said, and the atmosphere changed immediately. She saw a look pass between her parents. ‘I hope you’ll support me,’ she added, but there was a silence. I’m alone, she thought, even my parents don’t believe me.

  ‘Do we HAVE to go down there again?’ Paul asked. ‘We saw your mum last weekend.’

  Tessa swung her legs out of bed and buried her toes in the flokati rug. As usual Paul had rolled away from her after sex (she didn’t call it love-making) leaving her feeling used and frustrated.

  ‘Don’t get huffy,’ Paul said.

  ‘I’m not getting huffy, as you put it,’ Tessa said carefully. ‘Mum has got cancer, Paul. I want to spend as much time with her as I can. Wouldn’t you, if it was your mum?’

  ‘No. But my mum doesn’t mother me the way your mum mothers you. Smother love, I’d call it, not mother love.’

  ‘Don’t criticise Mum. Especially not now she’s ill.’

  ‘You think she’s so wonderful. But she’s manipulative, Tessa. She tries to manipulate me, but I’m not having it.’

  ‘No she doesn’t.’

  ‘Yes she does. She’s always trying to buy my love with cakes and pots of marmalade. One day I shall tell her to back off. I can’t be bought.’

  ‘She is NOT trying to buy you! She’s just a naturally kind, loving person. And don’t you dare even think about being nasty to her when she’s ill.’

  ‘I’m not being nasty. I’m being discerning. That’s your immature little girl attitude.’

  ‘That’s not fair.’

  ‘Aw – it’s not fair! T
here you go.’ Paul was sitting up in bed now, his shoulders brick hard, his eyes small and suspicious, his mouth stretched into a judgemental smirk. A stance Tessa knew well by now.

  She quickly pulled her clothes on. Black flared trousers, a polo-necked jumper, and a Laura Ashley smock.

  ‘Don’t clam up on me, Tessa.’

  ‘I wasn’t. Paul, I keep telling you, Mum is seriously ill. Why can’t you try to understand? I need to go down there. I would understand if YOUR mum was ill. I’m trying to do the right thing.’

  ‘That’s where we disagree,’ Paul said. ‘You’re supposed to be my WIFE, Tessa, and it seems I come last on your list of priorities, not first.’

  ‘You don’t put me first. If you did you’d understand. I’m not being a bad wife – I’m being a dutiful daughter. You should be proud of me, and supportive, not try to DICTATE. I’ve supported you enough times, going to concerts when I’d rather be doing something else.’

  ‘Like spending time with that Starlinda woman. What good is that doing?’

  ‘I’m following MY career.’

  ‘Oh, and what’s that? Witchy stuff? Mumbo jumbo? You know I don’t approve, Tessa, yet you insist on doing it – it’s not the kind of thing I want my wife involved in.’

  ‘You don’t KNOW what it is. I can’t talk to you about it because your mind is closed.’

  ‘Dead right it is. Closed to your fantasy world.’ Paul dragged the bedclothes over his head. ‘Piss off to Somerset then and leave me in peace.’

  It stung, but Tessa was too worried about her mum to fight with Paul. Yesterday she’d phoned Lexi who had been helping to care for Kate. She’d told Tessa how, suddenly, Kate had taken to her bed and was drifting between waking and sleeping. The doctor had given her morphine, and a Marie Curie nurse was coming in every night. It was a big change, and a shock, Lexi said, for Freddie who couldn’t seem to understand how ill Kate was. There’d never been a time when Kate hadn’t got up in the morning, got dressed and tried to run the home even though she was ill.