‘Hope it’s a good one,’ I said.
‘What’s this though?’ She held up a card. ‘The Seven of Swords is in the place representing what’s coming up next. A man looking guiltily over his shoulder. See? Hmm.’ She checked her reference book. ‘This card can suggest an act of dishonour. Or flight from a dishonourable act. Surely that would be Fabio, he was the cheater – so why’s it in my future? Not me surely? I don’t do dishonourable. Maybe it’s to do with tax but I’m not asking about that. I’m asking about love. Judgement is in the place for the future. The last card shows the outcome of the reading is Death.’
‘Oh no.’
‘Don’t worry. It isn’t a bad card. It means the end of something and beginning of a new chapter. A rebirth and transformation rather than a final end, but I’m not sure about the man and judgement. Hey-ho. A mystery. I guess that’s what life’s about. All in all, not a bad reading, apart from the dishonourable bit. Right, let’s do yours. Put all the cards back together, then shuffle them while concentrating hard on what you want to know about.’
‘Just one thing?’
‘Yes. Try and focus on one, but the readings can sometimes pick up on other stuff as well.’
‘OK.’ I shuffled the cards and tried to focus just on my work prospects, but my mind was full of questions – Matt, marriage, Dad, my kids and Tom Lewis.
‘Good,’ said Debs when I indicated I’d finished, ‘now split the pile into three smaller piles to your left and place them on the coffee table. Good. Then put them into one pile again. Good.’
When I’d done what she asked, she picked up the cards and, taking them from the top, she laid them in a cross shape, similar to the one she had done earlier.
‘Woah,’ she said, ‘lot of major stuff going on. The card representing your present says what we already know – a time of turbulence and change, but I see a man in your future.’ She picked up a card that said ‘The Lovers’ on it. ‘Something you want to tell me about, Cait?’
I felt myself blush and hoped that Debs didn’t notice. ‘That has to be Matt right?’
Debs shook her head. ‘Not necessarily. From where it’s placed, it’s in your future not your past, and it denotes that some kind of choice may have to be made.’
‘Really? Something about one of my boys maybe?’
‘I don’t think so. And you also have a king card, so it’s an older man, not a young one. The King of Pentacles.’ She continued to study the layout. ‘Actually, you have two kings, the King of Wands too.’
‘Maybe Matt and I are going into a new phase? A more loving phase?’
‘From the layout, the cards can also mean you need to get in touch with your feelings,’ said Debs. She was studying me carefully. It made me feel uncomfortable.
‘Stop doing Witch Woman staring at me,’ I said. ‘Yoda does that. Freaks me right out. So, what does it say about these lovers? Good or bad?’
Debs looked back at the card. ‘You’ve got the Judgement card too. It’s a good card to get as it signifies that things that have lain fallow will come to light, a time of new beginning. You also have the Moon card. It indicates that you may have to make a choice. It signifies uncertainty. Are you quite sure there’s something you’re not telling me?’
‘Course not.’ Liar, liar, said a voice in my head.
‘You got the Temperance card too: that means you may have to make some compromise in marriage.’
‘Well, that makes sense, and what marriage doesn’t involve compromise? What’s the outcome?’
Debs picked up the last card. ‘The Tower. Wow. You have a lot of the major cards in your reading.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘A lot’s going on in your life.’
I picked up the card. It showed someone falling out of a high building. ‘I don’t like the look of this.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Debs. ‘Like the Death card, it’s not necessarily bad. It just means that old structures need to be broken down and left behind before new ones can emerge.’
‘Looks violent to me.’
‘Just change. You know the old saying – what you resist, persists. If you embrace change and aren’t rigid, it needn’t be painful.’
‘Both Matt and I losing our jobs, it could be about that. It’s a time of change. Is it looking good?’
‘Yes, sure,’ said Debs. I noticed she tucked a card away.
‘What was that? You’re hiding a card.’
Debs pulled it back out. It was the Hanged Man.
‘Oh god,’ I said. ‘This is getting worse and worse. Burning towers, hanged men—’
‘No, no, not at all. It’s where they’re placed that counts.’
‘And?’
‘All will be well, Cait,’ said Debs. She wasn’t convincing.
‘Have you got an I Ching, Debs?’ I asked.
‘Course.’
‘Get it out. I might have to throw it for clarification. We need a second opinion.’
‘Quite right.’ Debs laughed. ‘My kind of gal.’
She went to her bookshelves and pulled out a copy of the I Ching.
‘Can you remember how to do it?’ I asked.
Debs nodded. ‘We need three coins.’
I reached into my bag, pulled out my purse and handed her six twenty-piece coins.
‘Three for you, three for me.’
‘Good,’ said Debs. ‘Hold them, ask your question again, then shake them and I’ll do the same.’
I did as I was told and this time I thought about Matt and Tom.
‘What are you asking, Debs?’
‘It’s supposed to be a secret but I’m asking, will I ever meet a decent man? My soul mate?’
‘OK. You go first then. Throw.’
She threw her coins, looked up the sequence and got number 29/The Abysmal. She flicked to the page in the I Ching. ‘The book says, “If you are sincere, you have success in your heart and whatever you do succeeds.” Hurrah. Now then, how many lines do I have? Six. Oo, no. That says “Means bounds with cords and ropes. Shut in between thorn-hedged prison walls.” Uh? “For three years one does not find the way. Misfortune.” Well, bollocks to that. I probably wasn’t concentrating or it picked up on all that anger I let out when I was packing up Fabio’s stuff. I’ll throw the coins again in the morning and maybe again after that and see what the book tells me then. Best out of three, I always say. Now you go.’
I threw my coins and Debs looked up the sequence of lines.
‘Oh dear,’ she said when she consulted the book.
‘What? What? Is it bad?’
‘Separation. Secrets. Change. Cait, are you really really sure that there’s not something you want to tell me?’
‘Nope.’ I wished we hadn’t started on the fortune-telling. It was getting too close to the bone.
‘How’s Matt?’
‘Same ole.’
Debs took a slug of her wine. ‘OK. I’ve been thinking about you and I’m going to say something. Don’t take this the wrong way, but with all that’s happened to you both lately, have you thought of marriage counselling?’
‘Not really. Matt would never agree to it.’
‘We have some great therapists at the spa.’
‘At the spa? No, really, things aren’t that bad.’ What a good idea, I thought. It could be just what we needed, but not at Debs’s place. It was too near to home and I knew how she gossiped about some of her clients. I’d find my own. I made a mental note to check out local therapists when I got home.
*
Matt was engrossed in a movie in the sitting room when I got back, so I went up to my study to search for marriage-guidance counsellors.
I turned the computer on and had a quick look at Facebook first. There was a private message. Tom Lewis. Gulp. He’d replied. Cue violins, doves, rose petals, heart palpitations, etc.
‘Caitlin, it is you! A blast from the past hey? I’d love to see you, catch up. I see you live in Bath. I’m presently in Londo
n. Are you ever up this way? Or I could come to Bath. Let’s do a lunch. You might not recognize me, I’ll be the old codger wearing a red carnation. I’d know you anywhere. Have posted you a song, you might recognize it. Big hug Tom X.’
I went back to my main page and scrolled down past the most recent posts. Oh lord. There it was. Unbelievable. ‘Guinnevere’ by Crosby, Stills & Nash. Our song. He hadn’t forgotten. I felt all a-flutter, like a teenager. Where are my smelling salts? I’ve come over all faint. I realized the track was on my page, for everyone to see. Oh no. For Lorna to see, for Debs to see. For all my Facebook friends to see. When had it been left? Three thirty p.m. When I was out at Dad’s. Should I delete the track? Yes. No. If I did, Tom might see that it had gone and wonder what the big deal was. It was only a music clip, wasn’t it? A sweet gesture to say he remembered our time together. No one else would know what it meant to me. I’d leave it. It was innocent. A piece of music from an old friend in my past. So why was I feeling as if I was sixteen and a boy I liked had just noticed me. Grow up, I told myself.
I was about to close Facebook when I saw that someone had posted a questionnaire to discover if one is a good Catholic. I’m not Catholic but can’t resist an online quiz. I got 100 per cent of the questions right. According to these tests, I am also a mathematical genius and, with my IQ, could be a brain surgeon.
‘Cait, the Antiques Roadshow is on,’ Matt called up the stairs.
‘OK, coming.’ Such is the glamour of my life now, Tom, I thought. You might have thought I was one of the cool ones once, but these days, the highlight of my week is the Antiques Roadshow, a Facebook quiz and a cup of cocoa. I am the last of the great ravers.
‘And I forgot to tell you Lorna called when you were out this afternoon,’ Matt added.
I bet she did, I thought as I felt a sinking feeling inside. She’d probably seen Tom’s post. Had Debs seen it by now too? No doubt she’d be in touch soon as well.
I put the phone onto message and went down to watch my programme.
12
Cait
Senior moments: 2.
Came out of Co-op first thing this morning to find my car had gone. Immediately reported it as stolen to the police.
Called Matt to tell him my car had been stolen. ‘And I think I might have left my mobile in it as well.’
‘So how are you calling me?’ he asked.
Ah.
Walked home and saw car outside the house. Uh? Ah … I’d forgotten I’d walked to the shop.
Must get a grip.
*
It’s my writing class this evening and I haven’t written anything for weeks, plus I’m meeting my friend, Lizzie, on Friday in London. I’d better have something to show her so that she can advise. I will not be defeated. Must come up with award-winning, bestselling book idea that will get snapped up by a production company and made into a film. Right then. That should be easy enough.
On the way to my study to start work, I experienced a sudden urge to clean under the sink, file my nails, dust the blinds, and then of course it was time for a cup of tea and to get ready for my job interview at the dentist’s.
I opened my laptop, went to mail and saw that there was an email from Debs.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
CAIIIIIT, who’s the gorgeous man on your Facebook page? The Tarot cards were right. You’ve been holding out on me. Debs X
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Just someone I knew ages ago. CX
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Get you with your mysterious past. What’s the story? Maybe he’s the King of Wands we saw in the card reading?
DX
Argh. Keep calm, I told myself as I typed a reply.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Ancient history. Haven’t seen him in over forty years. CX
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Find out if he’s single. Please. I like the look of him. You could introduce us? DX
I knew this would happen! No way, Debs, I thought, and it’s insensitive of her to even ask, though of course she doesn’t know what he had meant to me. I’d only ever told Lorna about him. All the same, I’m not introducing her.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Too old for you. He could be your father.
CX
*
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Great! Bring it on. I could do with a father figure. Be a nice change from the immature idiots I’ve been out with. Besides, he looks sexy. Age is all in the mind. Sixty is the new forty and all that. Look at Goldie Hawn, Sigourney Weaver, Susan Sarandon – and Charlottte Rampling is in her seventies and still looks hot. You’re probably the same age as Tom? I don’t think of you as too old to be my friend. We are what we are. Plus older men – George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Johnny Depp …
DX
Nooooo. I knew it. Tom’d always had the women after him and now he’s pulling in cyberspace.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Point taken. I’ll see what I can find out.
X
But I won’t, I thought. Tom might be ancient history but he was my ancient history.
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Great. Thanks.
Love you Debs X
I am a bad friend, I thought as I closed the laptop and got ready for my job interview.
*
A young blonde girl at the reception desk called my name at the dental clinic.
‘Mr Johnson will see you now.’
I got up and went through to see another young thing, this time a boy with pale cheeks and a shock of ginger hair, behind a desk. ‘Please take a seat,’ he said. ‘So, Mrs Langham. I see from your CV that you worked for a year as a doctor’s receptionist and before that as a teacher, but in between I am unclear about what you were doing.’
‘I worked in a library.’
‘Ah. And there are a few gaps in your CV over the years. What were you doing then?’
‘Bringing up my children.’
‘I see. Now. What do you think you could bring to the job?’
‘Enthusiasm, experience—’
‘Now let me stop you there,’ he said. ‘That’s exactly what I thought. Experience. You’re clearly way overqualified for this job. My concern is that you’d get bored and move on, then we’d have to train someone else up. You do understand what I’m saying, don’t you?’
‘That I haven’t got the job.’
‘I’m not convinced from looking at your work experience that we’re the ones for you,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’ll be able to find something else and put your skills to full use.’
I stood up. ‘Well thank you for your time.’
Once home, I made it to my study and opened my laptop. Hurrah. Cheers from the crowd.
I was about to open the file where I keep my ideas but, before focusing on writing, oh no, I can’t resist, it’s bigger than me, I have to …
See what’s on at the cinema.
Go through the online address book deleting all those who have moved or died.
Check Facebook. Nothing from Tom, not that I was expecting there to be. The ball was in my court. My turn to reply to him. I could always see him when I go to London on Friday, I thought. No. No. Bad idea. DO some writing Cait. I will, I will …
Watch a clip about a baby elephant being rescued from where he’d got stuck in a muddy hole as his mother watched. Aw.
Google the word askew (Sam had emailed and told me to do it. V. funny. The whole page is askew. Clearly I have too much time on my hands.)
Finally I stopped messing about and wrote the word ‘The’. It’s a start
.
Why is it a bad idea to see Tom? I asked myself. Because it’s one thing saying hi on Facebook, another thing meeting up, I replied to myself. But he suggested it, my thoughts continued. Shut up, mind, shut up. Get on with writing a bestselling, award-winning children’s book.
Stared out of the window at the row of houses opposite. New ideas? New ideas? Kids like angels. Kids like kittens.
Wrote a page about an angel kitten. Deleted it.
Wrote a page about a devil kitten. Deleted it.
Checked Facebook again. Anything could have happened in the last fifteen minutes. It had! Someone had posted a clip with a kitten riding about on top of a remote hoover and another of ants dragging the dead corpse of a worm. There’s no end to this v. important stuff.
Someone else had posted a quiz that reveals what kind of personality you have just by the colours you choose. Did the quiz. What rubbish. It said that I was a person who likes to procrastinate.
Had a look on the Rightmove property site for houses. Nothing in our price range that looked appealing. Depressing. Debs would say don’t limit yourself, expand the boundaries. I opened out the price bracket to look at the houses way out of our budget. That’s more like it. Lovely. I could see myself there, just need to find two million. Looked at another fabulous manor house. That’s more doable – we’d only have to find one and a half million. Must remember to do lottery.
Back to new ideas. Alien kitten? Deleted it. Vampire kitten? Butterflies? Wrote a page about a caterpillar that suffered from claustrophobia and was afraid to go into the cocoon. Deleted it.
I am writing drivel. Maybe I should do something else and come back to it, I thought. And not go on Facebook.
Went onto Facebook. Read a clip about how to get your very own personalized jar of Marmite. Life-changing stuff. Ordered two, one for Sam, one for Jed.
Dyed my greying eyebrows with honey-blonde dye. Left it on five minutes as instructed. Wiped it off. Perfect. I am young again.
Back to my study. New characters to appeal to children? Hedgehogs? Penguins? Meerkats? I like meerkats. Meerkats in underpants? No. Underpants have been done. A farting hedgehog? No, farting has been done. Bears? Done. Dragons? Done. Aliens? Done, done, done, also aliens in underpants. Fairies, elves, puppies? I’d done fairies. Unbeknown to Lorna and Debs, I’d based two characters on them. Sensible fairy and mad fairy. It had been a hit with my writing class. Maybe I should get that out to take to show Lizzie. But now what? Fat fairies. A fairy kitten, that could be cute. Probably been done. Fairies without faces. Oo, no. That’s just wrong. Vampires with no teeth? No. That’s it. I was out of ideas.
Dancing Over the Hill Page 9