‘It’s a lot of money to pay just because you like the look of them. You’re not a reader, are you?’
He smiles. So far, so passive aggressive. Does he think I’m after his job?
‘Well, no but, well, actually my great-nanna was a well-known medium back in Gateshead in the old days. She sometimes used the cards and I decided to get a deck for myself, have a little go. Just to see…’
‘Well, people presume that anyone can read the cards, you know, and they can’t. It takes time and natural ability. But then, with you being an actress you might just be able to blag it, eh?’
Ooooh, get her! Well, that’s just made my mind up; after wavering on the subject, it is now certain. Martin is a prick. When I talk to him, I don’t get the middle of the head feeling as strongly as when I’m with Sheila. What I do get is slight dizziness and a touch of nausea. Is this how he feels all of the time? Churned up and threatened? Ooof. Well, I wouldn’t want to live in his head. And I certainly wouldn’t want a reading from him, injecting his horrid energy into my already vulnerable noggin.
I am saved from any more of his snipes by a female dormouse in an anorak and specs, who comes in for Martin’s first (and, so far, only) reading of the day. He wipes his margarine hands on his dark navy cable-knit cardigan and leads her through, having not lit any candles or put a cloth on the table. Horses for courses, I suppose.
When the door is safely shut I strip off the cellophane and take out the deck. The cards run smoothly through my hands. They are so beautiful. There are many tarot decks and each reader has a different preference, but every time I’ve looked through the catalogue this one has jumped out at me. I also adore the Russian St Petersburg deck to look at, but it’s very black and stylised, so even though it’s pretty I’m fairly sure I wouldn’t be able to read with it. I’d just want to stare at it, like I would a book of ornate fairy tales in Urdu. Sheila told me I’d be attracted to the right deck for me and looking at these gold embossed beauties I feel a stirring in the pit of my stomach. I want to give them a go.
I call Sheila. She’s in her house smoking a fag, I can hear her dragging on it. I’m not sure smoking should be a hobby.
‘I’m glad you bought them, love. I think it’s always good to explore the different avenues.’
‘As soon as I felt them in my hands I got all excited. The book felt so technical, but…’
‘Oh, throw that bloody book away, Tanz. You don’t need it. You’re very intuitive, obviously, so studying the book will hinder you. There’s nothing wrong with knowing the traditional meanings of the cards, but it’s not the first thing you should do. You feel excited because you’re exercising a new muscle. Every time there’s a new chance to “play” your subconscious is going to jump up and celebrate. You should get every customer who comes in the shop to draw a card. Tell them it’s a little freebie. Get them to turn it, and say the first thing that you “see”. I don’t mean look at a card with a king on it and say, “you’re going to be King of bloody England”, but say what you feel. You’ll be surprised, darlin’. You know you’re ready, so just enjoy yourself.’
Actually, if it’s for free I think I am ready. It’s not like they’ll be losing anything by taking a card from me.
‘But Martin’s here, he might get all arsey.’
‘Oh, him. Has he got no readings again?’
‘He’s got one. She’s in there now. Really small woman with massive jam-jar glasses and a crew cut.’
‘I know the one. Nice enough, shy, looks like a miniature Rose West?’
I can’t help a little snigger. Being a serial killer buff I always appreciate a murderer gag. ‘She does, actually. But without the excessive pie eating. Anyway, he seemed to be hinting I was after his job before. If I start pulling cards out left, right and centre he’s going to have a cow.’
‘If he doesn’t pull his socks up he won’t have a job there anyway. Maggie’s furious with him. He’s supposed to show up at ten in case people drop in for readings. He usually casually wanders in at noon, gets bored and disappears at three. He did that the other day and missed out on two late readings. She doesn’t actually make that much from the shop and she doesn’t take a huge amount from our fee either, but she likes things just so, does Maggie, and he is going to blow it big time if he doesn’t buck his ideas up. He’s lucky to be there at all.’
‘Do you think he hates women?’
‘I think he hates everybody, bless him. He just needs a boyfriend and a personality transplant.’
She’s so right.
‘Look, he’ll be finished in a minute so I’d better go. Thanks, Sheils. I’ll give it a bash. I’ll call you tonight.’
‘OK darlin’… Oh, wait, just before you go… I think we’ve got another bust if you fancy it? Sounds like a lively one. Angry ghost throwing things about.’
‘Holy moly, you’re kidding me? Throwing things? How exciting. Ring you later.’
Two or three minutes pass as I leaf through the cards, marvelling at the detail. Suddenly I hear the squeak of the door and look up to see Martin’s head poking out.
‘We’ll be in here another thirty minutes; she’s decided she wants the full hour, OK?’
He’s less unfriendly when he’s pleased.
‘Brilliant. OK, Martin.’
When he’s gone, the front door pings and a girl walks in. I say girl, she’s around twenty-eight. Is that a girl or a lady? Anyway, she’s younger than me with striking caramel skin and eyes like a saucy panther. She heads straight over to the counter to look at the gemstone jewellery that Maggie stocks behind glass. A lot of it is that generic ‘magic crystal hanging from black leather thong’ kind of stuff, but certain people seem to love it. There are also leather bracelets with runes on them in a basket next to me. She starts to look through them. I nod.
‘Would you like to pick a card? Just to see what today’s got in store for you?’
She eyeballs me, looking for the hard sell.
‘Don’t worry, there’s no charge, I’m just practising.’
‘OK then.’
She reaches for a card and hands it to me. I turn it over. The Queen of Swords. A clever woman who looks very lonely to me. Private.
‘You’ve got to stop waiting for this David bloke. He’s hurt you one too many times. You’re hanging on to your pain so that you don’t have to let anyone else in.’
Blimey. Where did that come from? The girl blinks. I blink. I hope to God there is a David or I’m going to look such an idiot.
‘How did you do that?’
I shrug; I’m as confused as she is. There’s a seat by the till and she sits on it, staring at me like I’m an alien. People do tend to stare at me much more since I started doing this. It’s disconcerting.
‘I just felt it.’
Tears spring to the corners of her eyes, but she quickly quells them. ‘You’re right. He’s been a nightmare. It’s taken me ages to believe he’s wrong for me, but he is. He rang this morning, being nice, to confuse me again. I almost fell for it. I almost invited him over. Instead I came out of the house for a walk to clear my head. I’ve never been in this shop in my life. How did you know his name?’
She’s very well spoken. A nice, sensible young woman.
‘I have no idea how I knew. I think you’d have thought I was just reaching, otherwise, so I was given his name. You don’t usually believe in this stuff, I reckon. Oh, and another thing… the man from abroad… the one who bought you flowers. You don’t fancy him so don’t encourage it. There’s someone else on the horizon, just be patient.’
She honks a laugh. ‘Oh my days! How do you do that? You’re right, I don’t fancy him, but he’s so persistent I was thinking of having a date with him just to be nice.’
‘I think he may be a bit needy. Be polite, tell him you’re not ready. Let him fade out. If you kiss him or give him any other green light you will never get rid of him.’
She touches my arm. ‘That’s amazing. He has been very over-keen.’
‘If you have to, tell him you and this David got back together. But, of course, don’t actually do it. You already know what David’s about, you’ve just been scared of having no one. Well that won’t happen. Go on holiday or something, have a rest and come back ready to conquer the world! Right, reading over.’
She shakes her head. She has short afro hair and now that she’s relaxed, a ready smile. ‘I never heard of a fortune teller knowing names.’
‘Oh, I’m not a fortune teller. I’m a Romany gypsy.’ I can’t help saying it: it makes me so proud. ‘I couldn’t tell you your fortune if you offered me a million quid.’
‘Well, you are amazing. Thank you so much. I feel like I should give you something.’
‘Don’t be daft, I was just practising.’
She stands up, takes a card from the counter with the shop number on it. ‘Who do I ask for if I want a reading?’
‘I’m Tanz, but I’m not a reader here. I just work on the till.’
‘Well, that’s just ridiculous. I’m Juliette, by the way.’
‘Lovely to meet you, Juliette. Now go forth and book a holiday.’
‘You know what, I might just do that. I’ve wanted a weekend spa break for ever! I’ll be seeing you again. Thank you so much.’
‘No bother.’
As soon as she’s gone I send a text. Milo. I have become a friggin’ JEDI. Call you later x
I’m in shock. It’s getting easier. I don’t know how, but I just open my gob and this information pours through. There’s a pressure in my chest and I have to let it spill out as it arrives. It’s actually a great, if dizzying, feeling. Only thing is, I didn’t read from the card, I just looked at it and said the first thing that came into my head. Oh well, it worked out OK, didn’t it?
As I’m musing, out jumps teeny Rose West followed by Martin. She seems fairly alarmed, but she pays and thanks Martin in her dormouse voice, before beating a retreat. He’s looking very pleased with himself.
‘I’m off for a coffee, do you want anything?’
I go into my purse and hand him a few coins.
‘Yes please, I want a bottle of water and a banana.’
He heads off and I sit down. Like Sheila taught me, I do a closing off exercise, just so I can ‘come down’. I’m hoping the banana and water will help. What I really want is cake, but I always want cake. I made some wheat-free damp gingerbread this week and already had a big chunk with a coffee for breakfast. My hips can’t afford any more cushioning, so a banana it must be. I’d like to call Sheila and tell her what happened, but then the door opens again. I jump a bit when I look up. It’s Pat.
He’s wearing a slim-fitting grey sweater with a pale blue shirt underneath. He looks stunning. He is with a woman. She is thirty-two or so and looks just like him so I’m assuming it’s his sister, unless he’s one of those freaks who fancies people who look exactly like him. He raises an eyebrow at me and mouths ‘sorry’ as she approaches. Her smile is as big as a cheese. She dresses conservatively, but is wearing a magic crystal thong necklace. A rose quartz, it looks like. I really hope she hasn’t come here for some amazing psychic experience because I’m not a performing monkey and I don’t do well under pressure. Well I don’t think I do, this has only been happening for about five minutes. I’m not even a novice. I’m a pre-novice.
I smile back because it’s only polite. She actually looks crackers.
‘Hello, Tanz. I’m Pat’s sister, Caitlin. Nice to meet you.’
I put out my hand to shake hers. It’s damp. She’s nervous. Oh God, she is expecting something. Just then Martin returns and passes me the water and banana. He goes through the back to the loo. I am trapped like a whale on a beach. I have no idea what she knows about me and Pat. The sex. Fuck.
‘Hey Caitlin, how are you? Hey, Pat.’
‘Hello, Tanz. My insane sister decided she wanted to come and disturb you so I thought I’d come along with her. As a buffer of some sort.’
‘Pat!’ Her voice and accent are sharper than his. ‘I just wanted to thank you for what you did for Pat. It’s really made a difference for him, hasn’t it?’
I’m ready to hysterically shout out, ‘What, my best blow job?’, but am completely sure it won’t be as funny if I say it out loud. Pat has composed a face of pure innocence so is probably on the same filthy track as me.
‘Yes, you cheered me up no end.’
I bite my bottom lip. ‘Thank you, but really it was nothing to do with me, I just said it! Bless your dad, he’s the one to thank.’
Caitlin looks extremely vulnerable as soon as I mention her dad. I feel so bad that I can’t tune in to people as and when. I’m sure if she had just walked in this shop as a stranger it might have been different, but now I’m nervous.
‘He was a great man, our dad, wasn’t he, Pat?’
‘He had his moments.’ He puts a protective arm around her.
‘Anyway, Tanz, I was hoping… well, wondering, if you do readings or meetings… you know, for that kind of stuff? I would love to get some kind of idea of… how he is…?’
Oh Christ.
‘Errm. Well, the thing is, it seems to come to me quite randomly. I’m new to this so I’m not sure how much I can force it.’
Martin is now hovering near the kitchen door, bobbing his head around. Is he expecting me to recommend him? What a knob he is. I point down at the deck in front of me.
‘See these? I just bought them today and I’m getting people to pull a card out from the deck so I can give them a mini overview. Would you like to choose a card anyway? Just to see how your day is going to go? Then another time, in private, we can have a glass of vino and see what happens?’
You don’t have to be psychic to see how much this girl is grieving for her dad. God help me the day I lose a parent. I sincerely hope if I get her alone I’ll be able to tune in. Pat steps back and inspects some amethyst ‘caves’ just to give us a bit of space. He’s such a canny lad. Martin gives me the evils for not mentioning him. I ignore him.
‘That would be wonderful. Thank you. I didn’t really think you’d be able to do it now while you’re working.’
She sounds disappointed; she thought exactly that.
‘Here, I’ll shuffle these, then you can just pull one out and turn it over for me.’
She does and it’s the Eight of Cups. I lean forward so this information is between me and her. It isn’t about her dad, but I say it anyway.
‘This is about your relationships.’
Her face falls.
‘You’ve always, I feel, handed out too much. Always given too much love with not enough return. Now that’s changing. The change has gone on these past six months and there’s someone who wants to be by your side all of the time. But you’ve not been sure…’
She nods uncertainly. Looks at the counter in front of me.
‘There is someone. I’ve not been in the best shape. He says he wants us to move in together, but I don’t know. Sometimes he’s too nice.’
‘It feels like a good move, Caitlin. If you’re ready, of course. He’s being nice because he understands. Madly enough, I can hear a song playing in my head as I think about him. Is he a funny bloke?’
‘He is quite funny! What’s the song?’
I giggle because it’s so daft. I hardly want to say it. ‘Erm. I don’t know if you know it. It’s by a guy called Joe Dolce and called “Shaddap You Face”. I can hear it playing in my head… La la la la laaa, HEY, la la la la la… The whole chorus, actually…’
I know I’m not the best singer on the planet, but I’m not prepared for Caitlin’s reaction at all. Or Pat’s. She bursts into tears and he starts to laugh hysterically. She then starts to laugh as she’s crying. Martin looks at us all like we’re dangerous lunatics.
‘What? What?’
She wipes her nose on some raggy tissue. ‘It’s just… that’s… that was…’
Pat comes back to her and wraps his arm around her. ‘My dad used to sing
that to her every time she got moody. It was a running gag in the house. Eventually we all sang it. She found it really annoying, didn’t you, Sis?’
She still can’t get words out, she’s a mess. I speak up once more.
‘Did he have a laugh like a fog horn?’
Pat laughs again. ‘Jeez, he certainly did.’
‘Well, I can hear it.’ And I can. How amazing.
Pat shakes his head at me, winks and looks down at his sister who is attempting to rally.
‘He does – did. Laugh like a klaxon going off! When Pat told me what you’d said to him, about Dad, I was so, so happy for him. But… God forgive me… I was also jealous. I wanted to know he was watching over me too… I’ve felt so lost.’
I lay my hand over hers; I can’t help it. ‘Of course he’s watching over you. He’s still laughing incidentally. He finds himself hilarious. He approves of this bloke, Caitlin, that’s all I can tell you. He wants you to be happy… He’s sorry you’re sad.’
‘Is he? Oh God. I’ll try. It’s so hard when I miss him so much.’
‘He’s around all of you. You can do that, it seems, be in lots of places at once when you… pass over. You want to talk to him, just talk. He’ll always hear.’
She really is a wreck about this. She needs to go home. I’m not sure how good it’ll be for business if people come in and find a sobbing woman by the till. Pat squeezes her.
‘You see! Now come on, let’s go home and have a nice whiskey.’
‘I can’t, I promised to go into work.’
‘Sis, you look like you just got pounded by a runaway tractor. Phone in, take some time off. They take the piss anyway.’
As he’s speaking the door opens and in marches Juliette, my other card-turner. She’s brandishing a huge bunch of flowers.
‘If you won’t let me pay you then I shall give you a gift!’
‘Oh my gosh, these are gorgeous. You didn’t have to do this!’
‘I most certainly did.’
Just then she catches sight of the tear-stained, blotchy face of Caitlin. ‘You too?’ She shakes her head at me, mock annoyed. ‘Do you make everyone cry who comes in here?’
Sex, Spooks and Sauvignon (Adventures of an Accidental Medium Book 1) Page 12