Liam is most definitely not married. He is most definitely gorgeous looking and yet… well, why don’t I feel anything for him? I think I really must be going mad – that or I have spent way too much time on my own of late.
As I search miserably in the fridge for something that resembles a packet of bacon, I wonder if I’m destined to be a spinster for the rest of my life. All my friends are either engaged or happily settled down with just the one boyfriend by now. Maybe I’m being overly fussy and I should accept any offer that is put in front of me – after all, I don’t think prince charming is out there anymore. Men don’t seem to aspire to being prince charming, the kind of man who sweeps women off their feet. More like charming for all of two weeks and then they get bored with all that opening doors and paying for dinner malarkey. Two weeks in, and you get the door shut in your face and you have to ‘go Dutch’. Gosh, do I sound cynical? If I don’t sort myself out, I just know I am going to end up like Ms Morris upstairs – oh God, what a thought!
I must give Liam the benefit of the doubt and make more of an effort if I am not to end up like my landlady, I memo myself. I promised I would call him before Sunday when I am due back in the radio studio. Now where’s that bloody bacon I bought?
I’m back at work and am finding that the more phone calls I take the easier it gets. I still get someone other than the caller rabbiting to me in my ear, but strangely enough I’ve got used to them and I actually find it quite odd when I don’t hear voices in my head. My phone rings for 20 time. Although I’m prepared for my next call, I’m not prepared to hear that it is in fact my mother on the other end of the line – you’d think I would, being a psychic and all that, wouldn’t you?
‘Samantha. It’s your mother here.’ Uh, oh, sounds like I’m in trouble.
‘Mum, I’m working. I can’t take personal calls when I’m working, I told you that.’ I say as nicely as I possibly can, praying that Miracle isn’t trying to get through with a caller.
‘Well this is important.’
‘Go on.’ I sigh, ‘but make it quick, I’ve got calls to take.’
‘What’s this about you being on national radio?’ My mother asks. OK so who told her?
‘Mum, I can’t really discuss it right now. I’m working.’
‘Well, is it true? Oh, please don’t tell me you’re going under your own name?’ My mother sounds as though she is going to faint.
‘No, Mum. I’m not disgracing the family by going under my own name.’
‘Well Marjorie said that she recognised your voice immediately. She had to go to the garden centre to get some compost and one of those things you put in fish tanks – now what did she say it was called? Oh, it will come to me in a minute. Anyway, she said she couldn’t believe it when she heard your voice coming out of her radio. Of course, I told her it was nonsense and it must have been someone that sounded like you, but she was adamant that it was you. Oh Samantha, what are you doing with your life?’ My mother sounds very disappointed in me – again.
‘Look Mum, I don’t think it’s any of Marjorie’s business what I do on my weekends.’
‘So it is true then?’
My mother would make a very good interrogator for MI5.
‘Yes, Mum. I was filling in for my boss who had to go somewhere, and if you must know, I did a very good job. And it’s not national radio, it’s local radio. I was way better than Colin the Carrot Man.’ Well I was.
‘Colin the what?’ My mother says sounding intrigued - mention anything relating to vegetables and you’ve got her attention.
‘The Carrot Man. He does a gardening slot just before my Sixth Sense programme.’ Ooh, hark at me, My Programme!
‘Ooh,’ my mother says. Nice one, Sam. I think I’ve taken the focus off me for the time being. ‘Oh, and I met someone – a man – called Liam. He’s the sound tech at the station,’ I add for effect. ‘Look, Mum, I’ll call you later and tell you all about it. I have to get back to work now.’
‘OK, but you make sure you do. I want to know more about this carrot man and this young man you’ve met. Oh, yes, that was it, a filter. For the fish-tank. That’s what Marjorie had to go back for,’ my mother says before she hangs up and lets me get on with my work.
It’s Friday before I remember to phone Liam, and I do wonder why he hasn’t called me first. Surely if he was that interested then he would have picked up the phone first? Or maybe he’s secretly read The Rules and has decided that he will make me wait. Maybe he just doesn’t want to see me again? It wouldn’t surprise me. I did give out some negative vibes on our evening out together that said I wasn’t interested in him. Either way, if I don’t phone him it’s going to be pretty difficult on Sunday when I go back into the studio. I give myself a mental slap and punch out his mobile number.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi Liam, it’s me… Crystal.’ I say, suddenly remembering that he still doesn’t know my real name yet and would probably say, Samantha who? If I said it.
‘Hello stranger!’ Liam’s tone brightens – that’s a good sign – yes?
‘I’m sorry I didn’t ring earlier. I had loads of work to do.’ I say.
‘No probs. Are you in on Sunday again?’ He asks.
‘As far as I’m aware.’
‘Cool. You won’t be with Annette though; you’ll be on with Jeff this weekend.’
‘Oh, why?’
‘Didn’t you hear? Annette was involved in a car crash on Wednesday.’ Liam says.
What? I feel sick to my stomach.
‘Is she hurt? What happened? Is she OK?’
‘She’s out of hospital now, but has a broken arm and her neck is in a brace. Apparently she was on her way to the garage to get her car serviced and she hit an oil patch on the road. The brakes gave out and she went crashing into the reservation barrier.’
‘Oh, No! I told her…’
‘Told her what?’
‘Oh, nothing, at least it’s not worse,’ I mutter. The spookiest thing is I did warn her, didn’t I? Why, oh why don’t people listen when you give them a warning? I mean it’s not like I give out warnings all the time to all and sundry. This is all new to me too, but you would think that if someone, who had proven they could talk to dead people, as well as the living had told you to get the brakes on your car checked, then you would get your bloody brakes checked.
‘Yeah, she was really lucky. She’s going to be away for a few weeks, but should be back in full working order soon. You’ll just have to put up with Jeff and me. We’ll take good care of you, don’t worry,’ Liam laughs.
I should laugh too but for some reason I don’t. I feel a wee bit freaked out by all of this right now.
‘So…’ Liam says to break the silence between us. ‘Do you fancy going to the cinema tonight? That new Nicole Kidman movie is on at the Showcase.’
I know, I know, I should give the guy a chance. I mean he’s nice enough, he’s good looking, charming and single, but I just can’t bring myself to get excited at the prospect of going to the cinema tonight. I really don’t know what’s the matter with me.
‘Yes, that would be great!’ I say instead. ‘I’ve got my brother coming to stay this weekend, but if we catch the early showing that should be fine,’ I hope that I sound as though I am grateful for the offer.
‘OK, great. I’ll meet you there about five then. Oh yeah, I forgot to say, you know Anya you met in the wine bar the other night? The TV producer?’
Oh yes, who could forget Anya.
‘She wanted me to pass on a message to you. She said the other producers are interested in meeting with you to see about joining a new lifestyle programme they are doing for the Beeb. Can you give her a ring asap? Hang on, I’ll give you her direct line.’ Liam says. He fumbles about with some papers on his desk and reels off Anya’s number.
My stomach does another flip once I put the phone down to Liam. Anya wants me on her TV programme – yikes! Now don’t get too excited, Sam. It doesn’t necessarily mean th
at she actually wants you to appear on a TV show. All he said was that some producers wanted to meet you – that’s all. Nothing more.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It’s Friday night and the queue for the cinema is about a mile long. I feel as though we’ve been waiting here for ever, as we shuffle slowly forwards in the queue in a bid to see Nicole Kidman’s latest blockbuster.
As we queue up again for popcorn, sweets and crisps, I suddenly notice Jack in front of us. A girl with long, blonde hair, I’m assuming must be Jasmine, has her hand tucked into his back pocket. What’s Jack doing here? I thought his new girlfriend was into French films?
‘Jack?’
Jack turns round with a shocked look on his face and looks at Liam for a moment.
‘Hey you! How you doing? Jas, this is my…my best mate…’
‘Crystal!’ I shout, as I hold out my hand to Jack’s girlfriend. Jack looks puzzled and then amused. His girlfriend ignores my greeting.
‘Jas, Crystal, Crystal, Jas,’ Jack says by way of introduction.
‘Hi,’ I say, as I suspiciously look her up and down. She’s very thin. Actually bony would be a better description and she has a crooked nose which bends at a slightly funny angle. I don’t quite know what I was expecting her to look like, but this wasn’t it. I thought she would look more, well…I don’t know…more nurse-like, I suppose. She looks more like a bony, long-nosed, thing. Nothing like a nurse.
‘Hi,’ Jasmine says, as she flicks her hair from her shoulders – she looks at me in a suspicious way, as if I have some inside information on Jack.
‘Um, Liam, this is Jack, my best friend. Jack, this is Liam,’
‘Nice to meet you, mate,’ Liam shakes Jack’s hand. Jack smiles and shakes Liam’s hand.
‘Are you going to see the film?’ I ask, in an attempt to break the silence between the four of us.
‘That’s what cinemas are for, aren’t they?’ Jasmine trills with a slight laugh.
‘Of course,’ I add, thinking how nice it would be to shove popcorn up her great hooter right now.
‘You can sit with us if you want?’ Liam offers. Jasmine raises her eyes to the ceiling.
‘What did you do that for?’ I ask a little too defensively.
‘Oh, no offence,’ Jasmine says, ‘it’s just Jack and I would like to be on our own date if you don’t mind. We don’t do double-dates, do we Jacky?’ Jasmine says. It’s more of a statement than a question.
I look at Jack who is looking down at his feet. Bastard! Why doesn’t he stick up for me and tell the big-nosed bugger to be nice?
‘No problem. Enjoy the movie then,’ I say haughtily as I grab Liam’s arm and march into Screen 2 with him.
As we watch Nicole Kidman battling to save the planet from another alien invasion, I feel really peed off that Jack didn’t say something to Jasmine and my mind is not on the film at all.
My mind isn’t on Liam either when he drops me off at home and suggests he could come in for a coffee.
‘Sorry?’
‘Coffee? You want me to come in?’ Liam asks again with a twinkle in his eye.
‘Oh sorry, Liam. My brother will be here. Another time?’
‘Sure thing,’ Liam smiles. ‘I’ll see you on Sunday then?’
‘Sure. Bye and thanks, Liam.’
I am so annoyed with myself for allowing Jack to make me feel annoyed and ruin my evening with Liam. I bet he thinks I’m a right joy to go out with! Oh, why can’t love be easy? Now I’m going to have to ring him and apologise for a crap night out. Normally the first person I would phone for relationship advice would be Amy, but she is spending the whole weekend in the Highlands with the lovely Kenzie, and I don’t want to ruin her weekend with me moaning and groaning about my disastrous attempts at getting a man.
Amy’s love life has in the past been more spectacularly disastrous than my own. Unlike me, Amy didn’t have a habit for attracting married men. She did once get engaged to a transvestite – although she swears she didn’t know he had a fondness for cross-dressing until she found him trying to squeeze his size tens into a pair of her size five, open-toed sandals.
So I’m pleased that she has finally met someone who a) seems normal and b) makes her happy and c) doesn’t try her shoes on.
Added to this, I have to have a serious think about this TV opportunity. It’s probably not the best time to talk to my mum about it. Given that she already thinks that I’ve brought shame on the family with my vocal chords, I think she would be absolutely mortified if I asked her whether it would be a good idea to go on national television as a performing psychic. She still hasn’t got over the shock that I went on local radio.
Fortunately Matt has arrived and just in the nick of time – well my little brother actually arrived while I was out, but has been asleep on my bed claiming that he was suffering from jet-lag, despite not actually flying in from anywhere, rather driving his BMW from London to Bath – poor soul.
When Matt finally decides to grace Missy and I with his presence, I’m just finishing off a call for Mystic Answers. Matt smirks as he listens to me waffling on about new beginnings and new possibilities being just around the corner for my caller.
My brother looks very similar to me – in fact if I were a boy we could be mistaken for twins. Thankfully Matt doesn’t have the same sort of wild and wayward mane of hair that I do and I don’t wake up with stubble on my chin like he does – yet. Matt’s hair is smartly cut into some sort of trendy spiky style called something like an Emo Funk, whatever that might be. Whatever it’s called it requires copious amounts of hair products with macho names such as Rock Gel and Granite Foam.
‘And your final card is the ten of cups, which signals that things really are going to get better for you, Shelley. I really feel as though there is light at the end of the tunnel here and that despite having had a hard time, you are nearly there. I’m getting a yes to this from my guides too.’
‘Thank you so much, Mystic Crystal. You’ve really made my day and I hope you’re right. I could do with a bit of good luck after all I’ve been through.’ Shelley, my caller, says.
‘Well, you know where I am if you need me. If you need any more advice, just call Mystic Answers and ask for Mystic Crystal.’
Matt snorts and puts his hand over his mouth. I give him one of the looks that our mother is so fond of giving. Matt removes himself to the kitchen so that he can laugh out loud.
‘You’re up then?’ God I sound like our mother. Matt smiles and opens his arms to me.
‘So, Mystic Crystal, how’s it all going and can your crystal ball tell me where you keep the Marmite?’ Matt asks, opening cupboard doors.
‘It’s going fine and I don’t like Marmite,’ I say closing the cupboard doors behind him. ‘There’s plenty to eat in the fridge if you want it.’ I raided Tesco late last night and stocked up on all Matt’s favourite foods – well, except for Marmite.
‘You do realise that your name is now Mystic Crystal Ball.’ Matt laughs as he dives into the fridge in search of food.
‘Yes, I have been told. Very funny, I though of all people you would be more intelligent than that.’ I retort.
‘I’m only kidding. I think you’re doing great.’ Matt says, blowing his long fringe out of his eyes. Why have a long fringe when you a) can’t see where you are going and b) when you spend most of your day blowing it out of your eyes?
‘You do?’ I’m slightly aghast that someone in my family is finally on my side. I know Jack is kind of on my side, but he’s still out of favour for not standing up for me in front of Miss-Naughty-Nurse and Amy would be on my side if she could drag herself up for air from Kenzie for five minutes.
‘Yeah, I think it’s great. I mean just think of the potential of this.’ Matt says, scratching his chin. You know when Matt has an idea when he starts scratching his chin as if in deep thought. ‘You could be huge, Sis.’ Matt adds. ‘If you’re good enough to be on the local radio, you must be good at all this psych
ic stuff.’
‘Well…’ I hesitate, ‘don’t say anything to Mum, or Paul for that matter, but I went on a date the other night with the sound tech from the radio station…’
‘What you? A date?’ Matt looks aghast.
Why does everyone think it’s amazing that anyone would want to ask me out?
‘Yes me, actually. Anyway, I was invited to a VIP wine bar thingy they were holding for Town FM and this producer came up to me and has asked me if I might like to appear on a new programme for the BBC.’
‘Really? Bloody hell! You must be better than I thought!’ Matt stops eating his Dairylea and pickle sandwich that he’s haphazardly knocked together, and scratches his baby-faced chin again. ‘You know, we need to act on this right away, Sammy. Seize the moment. Come on.’ He says as he darts back into the lounge, sandwich in one hand, the other hitching up his low-slung jeans – why is it that men his age insist on wearing jeans that are too big for them, consequently showing off their Calvin Klein’s or even worse, their hairy bottoms? It’s like when girls of a certain age insist on showing off their g-strings, or builders showing off their builders bum, it’s just not attractive. Oh great, I am turning into our mother.
I hustle out to follow Matt into the lounge to find he’s already logged on to my computer – bought I might add with my third weeks salary – yay me! Being a computer wiz Matt is quickly pressing keys and talking to someone called ‘Spudulike’ on some instant messaging thingy, as pages upon pages of cryptogram wiz up through my computer. They go so fast I can barely read what’s on the pages. I do hope he isn’t downloading anything sinister on to my computer.
‘What are you doing?’ I venture, trying not to sound like a total technophobe in front of my little brother.
‘Hang on,’ Matt says through a mouth of bread and cheese. I watch patiently, occasionally nodding and saying ‘hum’ as though I have the slightest idea what the hell he’s doing – which I don’t. I’m quite capable of finding a website or creating a spreadsheet, but anything outside of that and I’m at a complete loss. Matt clicks the mouse a few times, presses a few classified keys, apparently known only to computer nerds, and a new screen, sorry a new ‘window’, pops up. He clicks on a little box in the right hand corner and a website comes up.
Oh Great, Now I Can Hear Dead People: What Would You Do if You Could Suddenly Hear Real Dead People? Page 10