by Hannah Emery
‘Louisa!’ Mags gave Louisa a quick hug and a kiss on her cheek. Her lipstick left a slimy residue that Louisa thought would be rude to wipe off. ‘I’m so glad you came. I still can’t get over what you did today. I’ve told my cousin Jimmy all about you.’
A man with a curly beard winked at Louisa.
‘Intriguing,’ he said, apparently pleased with himself for summing her up in one word.
‘So, do you save people’s lives all the time?’ Mags handed Louisa a drink of something dark and thick.
‘No.’ A stab of pain shot through Louisa as she remembered her mother wading into the sea. Her father in his chair while Louisa was in Blackpool with Hatty. ‘Not all the time.’
‘But you are psychic?’ Jimmy asked, the foam of his bitter sticking to his beard.
‘Well, yes I am.’
‘A rare gift,’ Jimmy said, wiping the foam away with the back of his hand. ‘So what’s going to happen to me?’
Mags elbowed Jimmy. ‘Oi, it’s my turn first.’ She turned to Louisa, her eyes gleaming. Louisa noticed that her eyeliner was immaculate, like Hatty’s always was. How did they all do it, and why couldn’t Louisa? ‘Let’s find a seat and then you can tell me.’
Louisa followed Mags and Jimmy to a sticky booth.
‘Right,’ Mags said as she sat down. ‘Go on.’
Louisa wondered what she should do. She closed her eyes, trying to conjure up an image of Mags in the future, but nothing came.
‘I’m not sure I can do it on command. I’ve never tried to,’ she admitted after a few minutes. She took a swig of her drink. She had no idea what it was, but the taste burned into her throat.
‘Course you can. After today, you can do anything,’ Mags commanded, and gestured frantically for Louisa to close her eyes again and continue.
Louisa obeyed. She shut her eyes, and thought of her kohl eyeliner, and wondered if she could perhaps buy a better brand of eyeliner and a new lipstick the next day. She thought about maybe buying a new dress too. She would go to Hill’s tomorrow and spend as much money as she liked. She opened her eyes.
‘You’re going to have a baby boy,’ she said.
Mags wrinkled her nose, revolted. ‘I most certainly am not!’ she snorted.
Louisa shrugged. ‘It’s just what I saw.’
Mags relented a little. ‘So does this mean I’ll meet a nice man then?’
‘Oh yes. Definitely. A very nice man.’
‘With a nice car?’
‘A lovely car,’ Louisa confirmed.
Mags sat back. ‘Well. I must say, I’m surprised at that. I had always thought I’d never have kids. Suzie drives me potty and she’s not even mine! But a son might be different. A little boy, and a nice husband. That’ll be fine, I suppose.’
Louisa smiled from behind her glass.
‘So,’ Mags sighed, obviously tired already at the thought of having a child, ‘how much do I owe you?’
‘Oh, nothing,’ Louisa said, with a wave of her hand.
Mags’s eyes widened. ‘Nothing? But the gypsies on the prom charge a fortune for their fortunes!’ She giggled loudly at the play on words.
‘Nothing at all. We’re friends, aren’t we?’
Mags gave Louisa a wide smile. ‘Course we are.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Until I’m up to my eyeballs in filthy nappies, that is. Right, Jimmy. Your go. Let’s see what’s in store for you.’
He grinned at Louisa and held his hands out. ‘Maybe it’ll help you if you have some contact with me.’
Louisa smiled back, and took Jimmy’s hand. She closed her eyes, but before she could think about dresses or eyeliner or Hill’s again, she saw an image of Jimmy’s naked body wrestling with her own, saw a tattoo of a snake on Jimmy’s bare shoulder, and felt as though his lips and his breath were on her, touching her skin.
‘Do you have a tattoo of a snake on your shoulder?’ she asked, her eyes flying open.
‘How do you do it?’ Jimmy asked, and gave a small applause.
Louisa flushed. ‘I … I’m sorry, can we finish your reading another day? I’m feeling a bit worn out. I don’t normally do two in a row, and I—’ she felt Jimmy’s hand on hers.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said. ‘I understand. We’ll finish off another time. And just so you know—’ he peeled away his shirt to reveal a snake swirling over his shoulder, ‘—you have a real gift.’
Mags nodded. ‘You really do. You could make so much money doing readings for people in here. We have loads of friends who would love to know their future.’
‘I don’t know if I could charge for it,’ Louisa said.
Mags smiled. ‘Relax! We know that. I think you need another drink. Jimmy? Same again?’
Jimmy nodded and turned back to Louisa as Mags left to go to the bar. ‘So, where are you living at the moment?’
‘I’m staying at a boarding house in South Shore.’
‘Ah, so you’re not a permanent Blackpool girl then?’
‘Well … no. Not at the moment. But I am planning on moving here.’
‘Really?’
Really? Was she? Louisa looked out of the window of the wine bar, to the crashing waves, and then back at Jimmy, his beard and his shirt that covered his snake tattoo.
‘Really,’ she smiled, as Mags set the drinks down on the table.
Later, as Louisa danced beside Jimmy, a tall, blonde woman appeared and tapped him on the shoulder. He grinned and gave the blonde a kiss.
‘This is Penny,’ he told Louisa over the music. ‘My girlfriend.’
Louisa paused as the image of her and Jimmy together came careering back into her mind. Bed sheets. The scent of Jimmy: his skin, his breath, his hair. She felt Mags pull her from the dance floor.
‘Sorry, Lou. I was going to tell you that he wasn’t single. I knew that he’d make out that he was. He’s a bit like that, but he’s harmless. He is great with Penny. I hope you’re not disappointed?’ Mags asked, her pale blue eyes scrunched up in concern.
‘No. No, I’m not disappointed at all. I’m just surprised.’
‘Penny’s used to it. She knows what he’s like. But she’ll put up with it because she knows he’ll never actually do anything with anybody but her. Sweet in a funny way, isn’t it?’
Louisa frowned. ‘I suppose. Although who knows what’s going to happen, really?’
‘Psychics?’ Mags guffawed.
‘Yeah.’ Louisa smiled weakly as she watched Jimmy’s hand on Penny’s waist. Penny danced well, her body bending and flexing in a way that Louisa’s never could. Jimmy’s eyes moved over Penny and then up to Louisa and Mags. He gave them a thumbs up. He wasn’t unattractive, Louisa decided, as she examined the way he danced, his beard, his smile. But he wasn’t Louisa’s ideal type of man. She probably wouldn’t have even thought about him in that way if it hadn’t been for the image that had kept flashing into her mind all evening. The image that had made her feel invincible, as though no matter what she said, or what she did, she would end up with Jimmy as her boyfriend. She had almost begun to feel as though he already was, so that him dancing with another woman made her feel quite upset.
‘It’s almost eleven,’ Mags said. ‘Didn’t you say you had to be back to the boarding house by eleven?’
Louisa nodded. She had imagined Jimmy walking her back to the house. Mags shuffled into her elaborate fur coat, which was far too thick for the balmy summer evening.
‘I got it in the sale,’ she said when she saw Louisa eyeing the coat. ‘I’m boiling, but I look great,’ she said with a laugh.
Louisa smiled. ‘You do,’ she agreed as she linked Mags’s furry arm.
Chapter Thirteen
Grace, 2008
The morning after Grace dragged Eliot to the beach is frozen and silver. Grace cranks up the heating in her flat, thinking again of Elsie in the draughts of Rose House. It’s Sunday, so Ash Books is closed. She flicks on the kettle and sits at her small kitchen table. She pours some cereal into a bowl but can’
t eat it. The cornflakes won’t move down her throat, and eventually she pours the milk down the sink and scrapes the remaining orange flakes into the bin. Her flat is quiet, even with the radio on. Grace stands, and pulls her woolly cardigan around her tightly. She wants company, and there’s only one place that she knows she will feel welcome so early on a Sunday morning.
Mags is cooking bacon when Grace arrives, and the warm, smoky smell makes Grace’s stomach grumble.
‘Want some?’ Mags asks, after steering Grace into the kitchen and pouring her some coffee.
‘Yes, please,’ Grace says, thinking of her discarded cornflakes.
‘Noel’s just in the shower. He’ll be down any minute. How was your evening?’ Mags says, slapping some bacon on a roll and giving it to Grace.
Grace sighs. ‘It was okay. I went out with Eliot.’
‘I know. Elsie told me.’
Grace stops chewing her sandwich. ‘Was she angry?’
Mags shrugs. ‘She didn’t say. I couldn’t tell. You know what Elsie’s like. I thought it was strange that you and Eliot were out without her though.’
‘Elsie and I had a bit of a falling out. We can’t seem to get along these days.’
‘He’s not for you,’ Mags says, dolloping some ketchup on the side of her plate. They eat in silence for a few minutes, their eyes averted as they both chew.
Grace frowns. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Eliot. He’s not for you. You’re too similar and you’d destroy each other. You know you would, Grace. Elsie is good for him. I know that probably hurts you, but it’s true. You need to let them be. They’d be happy if you did. Elsie would be happy.’
Grace’s mind is filled with the images of her future wedding day. It’s always the same. It’s real. Daisies, champagne, lace, Eliot.
‘I don’t want to hurt Elsie. I really don’t.’
Mags wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Then don’t.’ She takes Grace’s plate and crashes it into the sink with her own.
‘I might not have a choice. What if I’m meant to be with him?’ Grace says quietly.
Mags turns from the sink so suddenly that it takes Grace by surprise. ‘What did you just say?’
Grace feels herself colour. She’s kept the secret of her vision, her gift, for so long. She scrambles through her thoughts, trying to decide if she wants Mags to know.
‘We just get on so well. That’s all. I think a lot of him.’
‘You meant more than that by what you just said. I know you did. You have visions of the future like your mum used to have, don’t you? You’ve seen something to do with Eliot, haven’t you?’
Grace doesn’t answer. She stares down at the knots in the wood on the kitchen table and prays for Noel to come down, for the phone to ring, for anything to happen except this.
‘You can’t live like that Grace!’ Mags’s voice is high-pitched and her skin has become mottled with pink distress.
Grace puts her head in her hands for a moment, then recovers, and looks at Mags again.
‘I know I can’t live the way I think I should. I know how dangerous it is. But it’s so powerful, knowing what should happen, that—’
Mags is suddenly next to Grace, pulling at her arm. ‘That’s just it, Grace! You don’t know! You don’t know that it’s true, or right, whatever you’ve seen. Just like your mother didn’t know! I will not lose you to this, this … curse!’ Mags finishes, standing and lighting a cigarette hastily.
Grace is silent. Mags doesn’t understand.
It’s a few awkward seconds later when Noel wanders in, bringing with him a fresh scent of shower gel. His hair is wet and looks darker than usual. Grace fights the urge to stand up and hug him, or hold his hand, or have any kind of contact with him.
‘All okay?’ he says, knowing very well that all isn’t okay.
Mags nods, exhaling smoke slowly and leaning on the shiny black worktop behind her. Grace plays with a crumb on the table.
‘Any more bacon?’ Noel asks.
Mags motions towards the cooker. ‘It’s waiting for you. Help yourself. I’m off out to the shop. I need a few bits.’
Noel nods uncertainly and his eyes follow his mother out of the door. When she’s gone, he turns to Grace.
‘What’s happened?’
Grace gives Noel a weak smile. ‘Oh, you know. Just me, causing problems as usual.’
Noel grins. ‘Well, it’s true that you’re trouble. Always have been. But that’s what makes you so much fun.’
‘Thanks for the compliment. I kind of needed one.’
Noel nods and takes a seat at the table. Grace watches him look at her with concern, waiting for her to speak.
Before Eliot, Noel was the one that Grace imagined kissing when she lay in bed at night, the one whose initials she scraped onto her pencil tin with a compass, the one she felt an excited fear about how things might turn out with him one day. When the twins’ mother disappeared, Noel came home to help Mags look after them. He was strong and calm when everyone else seemed high-pitched and hysterical. He had made Grace feel as though she might just get through the bog of sadness that pulled her down every time she thought of her mother. He’d said something about missing an interview and Grace could tell that he’d blown off the chance of a lifetime so that he could come home to Blackpool and look after her and Elsie because their mother had gone and they had nobody else. It had made Grace want to press her lips against Noel’s, and be as close to him as she possibly could. But she was only sixteen then, and didn’t know how to move towards somebody you wanted to kiss. So she had waited for Noel to move towards her, and kiss her, and make everything alright. But Noel had a girlfriend, and saw Grace and Elsie as sisters who he needed to take care of. He belonged to an adult world that Grace watched with interest but didn’t quite know how to join.
So Noel didn’t move towards Grace and kiss her, not then and not any time after. But even now, after all this time, and after seeing the future plainly before her, the ache to kiss Noel has not left Grace.
It probably never will, she thinks, as she gazes at him across the table.
‘I keep having nightmares,’ she says to break the silence. ‘I keep dreaming about fire. It’s terrifying. I’ve been awake since 4 a.m. I couldn’t sleep, because the dream scared me so much. I wanted to ring Eliot, but I thought he might be with Elsie, and she isn’t talking to me. So I waited until a decent hour and came here, to see your mum, and now she’s fallen out with me too.’ Grace sits back, exhausted and lighter for having said so much in one breath.
‘I’m sure Mum hasn’t fallen out with you. My mum never falls out with anyone. She just needed to go to the shop.’
Grace is quiet for a while before answering.
‘I hope you’re right. Noel, do you think what my mother saw in the future – her premonitions – do you think they were accurate?’
Noel frowns in concentration. ‘I think they were probably images of what could have been. But I don’t think anything about the future is set in stone.’
‘But even if it’s not set in stone, surely there’s one outcome that’s meant to happen. And those were the ones she saw?’
They haven’t talked about Grace’s mother for years, but after bringing her up last night with Eliot, Grace feels like she’s not quite finished thinking about her.
‘I think there’s a danger in trying to follow what you think should happen,’ Noel says. ‘I think you should go with what you want to happen.’
Grace stares at him. ‘But aren’t the two things the same?’
Noel shrugs. ‘Not necessarily, no.’
Grace shakes her head in confusion.
Noel pats Grace’s hand. It’s a clumsy movement but it makes Grace smile. ‘I think that whatever it is you’re worrying about, you’ll make the right choice.’
Grace looks at Noel. His face is handsome. The tubbiness that plagued him through childhood has turned into quite an athletic shape. Although he
isn’t tall, he looks strong. His dark blonde hair, already beginning to dry after his shower, has a slight curl to it like Mags’s. His eyes are the kind that people trust: round, blue and bright. Grace wonders what it would be like to see those eyes when she woke up in the morning, when she was scared, when she was upset. She wonders what it would be like to be Bea.
‘So what do you think your nightmares about the fire are trying to tell you?’
‘I have no idea. I’ve looked in all the dream books we’ve got in the shop,’ Grace says as she slumps back in her chair.
‘And?’
‘They all say slightly different things, which I suppose could all make sense. The dream could mean something about creative energy and something new in my life.’
‘Well, that makes sense. There’s the shop, isn’t there? That’s new, and it must be taking up a lot of energy.’
‘I suppose. But it seems more fierce than that. It seems to be warning me of something. It’s more like a nightmare.’
Noel stands, and pulls Mags’s laptop from the kitchen worktop onto the table. He taps on the keyboard, then after a few minutes reads out an online dream meaning. ‘A dream of fire can symbolise sexual passion,’ he finishes, the tips of his ears turning a subtle pink.
Grace looks down at the table.
‘Well,’ Noel says as he clicks the laptop shut. ‘That’s that cleared up.’
‘I don’t think that can be it,’ Grace says, mentally suffocating her wandering thoughts. ‘I wonder if the fire is something to do with my mum? I remember her telling us a story about a fire years ago. I think her own mother told her the story and she passed it onto us. But I don’t know what it was.’
‘Will Elsie know? Maybe we could see if—’