Allie, Donna and Pauline stared at her dumbly.
‘Have you not had a reading before?’ Arabella asked.
Donna said no.
‘Well, the twenty-two Major Arcana cards represent the significant issues in the querent’s life. Querent means seeker. That’s you. The Minor Arcana offer a more nuanced reading of those issues. There are fifty-six cards in the Minor Arcana, so it’s an extra pound if you want those. And I’d prefer you to pay up front, if you don’t mind.’
‘Just the major ones, I think,’ Allie said. Donna and Pauline agreed.
After the money had been handed over, Arabella asked, ‘Do you have any questions?’
Pauline said, ‘Is your whole body tattooed?’
‘Pauline! Don’t be so rude!’ Donna admonished.
Arabella confirmed, ‘Yes, I’m fully tattooed.’
‘Did it hurt?’
‘It did. And it takes years, if you’re thinking about it. I meant do you have any questions about the reading?’
No one did so Arabella began by producing a pack of tarot cards wrapped in a piece of bright red silk from a wooden box. The colours on the cards were fading and their edges had softened, and they looked extremely well handled.
‘Can’t you afford a new set?’ Pauline asked.
Donna rolled her eyes. Allie looked at Arabella for signs of offence taken but didn’t see any.
‘I prefer these. They’ve been handed down though my family for generations. They were originally owned by my great-greatgreat-grandmother, Serafina Fortune.’
Allie thought they definitely looked that old.
‘Can all the women in your family read the cards?’ Donna asked.
Arabella nodded. ‘And in my family there is only a female line. We never marry though we’ve each given birth to a daughter. Never sons. Just one daughter.’
‘Where’s yours?’ Pauline asked.
‘Asleep next door. You’re quite rude, aren’t you?’
Suitably put in her place, Pauline said, ‘Sorry.’
‘You never marry?’ Allie said, amazed. ‘None of you have, right back to your great-whatever grandmother?’
‘That’s right. And before her too, I believe.’
‘Can I ask why not?’
‘Fortune women don’t need husbands. We have our men, but we don’t need husbands.’
Allie didn’t know whether to believe her or not. It sounded quite a lot like a made-up story to enhance Arabella Fortune’s professional reputation — or maybe to excuse an illegitimate baby. But who cared, it didn’t matter anyway.
Donna opened her mouth and Allie just knew she was going to say something like ‘I agree to not needing a husband’, so she kicked her under the table. Donna gave her a dirty look, but there was no sense in giving Arabella Fortune free clues when they’d paid her a pound each to divine their futures.
‘Who would like to go first?’ Arabella asked.
Donna volunteered, so Arabella gave her the cards to shuffle and cut, then laid seven in a pattern on the white lace tablecloth.
She studied them for quite a while, her white hands splayed on either side of the spread, then said, ‘You’re going to war.’
Frowning, Donna said, ‘Well, that’s not right. Do I look like a soldier? And there won’t be any more wars. We’ll all just be blown to smithereens by an atomic bomb.’
‘What about South Korea?’ Allie said. ‘That was a war.’
‘Also, I’m a nurse. I’m planning on specialising in paediatrics.’
Arabella shrugged. ‘I’m just telling you what the cards are saying. You have the Tower and the Chariot. In unison that usually means war.’
‘Will she get married?’ Pauline asked.
Donna said furiously, ‘Shut up.’
‘Do you want an answer to that?’ Arabella asked.
Hesitating only briefly, Donna nodded. Arabella had her shuffle and cut the cards again, then laid them out.
‘The answer is probably no. Probably. You will, however, come to know many men, and you’ll have a very rewarding and fulfilling life, perhaps more so than if you did marry. You’ll travel. You’ll become highly respected in your field. You won’t regret a recent decision you made, for to have gone down any other path would have altered these positive aspects of your future.’
At this Donna tensed, and Allie was fairly sure she knew what she was thinking.
Arabella looked at Donna. ‘But, you know, something momentous might occur and completely change the course of your future. You might meet your Prince Charming after all.’
‘I doubt it,’ Donna said.
Arabella gathered the cards. ‘Who’s next?’
‘Allie,’ Pauline said.
Shuffle, cut, spread, intense concentration from Arabella, nervous throat-clearing from Allie.
‘You’ll change your job in the near future,’ Arabella declared, ‘to something quite different for you. Something involving women.’
Allie wasn’t very impressed — she already had a job involving women.
Arabella drummed her fingers on the table. ‘There’s something a little dark here. Do you want to know about it?’
‘I don’t know,’ Allie said. ‘How bad is it?’
‘Well, it’s not death or a horrible illness,’ Arabella said bluntly. ‘You’ve had a death already. A child? Your child?’
Swallowing, Allie nodded.
‘This is something else. You have the Moon and the Devil cards in your spread.’
Pauline and Donna both gasped.
Allie stared, goosepimples creeping up her arms. ‘The Devil? That must be bad, surely?’
‘Yes and no. The Devil indicates entrapment. It doesn’t necessarily foretell doom, only the need for care. You’ve been warned now, so it’s up to you to avoid the trap.’
‘But what trap?’ Allie said, her voice rising. ‘I don’t know what you mean!’
‘Well, I don’t know, do I?’ Arabella replied. ‘I’m just reading the cards.’ She tapped the Moon card. ‘This one means that something in your life isn’t what it seems and you’ll have to rely on your intuition to see past the dishonesty.’
‘But I don’t know what you’re talking about!’
‘Could it be related to this, the High Priestess?’ Arabella indicated a third card. ‘A significant woman in your life? Your mother, maybe? An aunt or grandmother? Someone who has undue influence over you?’
‘Both our grandmothers are dead, and I can’t see it being Mum. She doesn’t really influence me much at all these days.’
‘What about Sonny’s mum?’ Donna suggested.
‘I wouldn’t think so. She isn’t dishonest.’
Pauline said, ‘What about that hoity-toity cow you had lunch with the other day?’
‘Mrs Lawson?’ Allie said. ‘No, she wouldn’t . . .’ She trailed off.
‘I thought she was a right bitch, going on about Sonny like that. You should have stuck up for him.’
‘I did!’
‘Well, I didn’t hear you.’
‘Can we get back to the reading?’ Arabella asked benignly. ‘Do you have any particular questions?’
Forgetting that she’d kicked Donna for almost doing something similar, Allie blurted, ‘I want to know if—’
Arabella cut her off. ‘Don’t say it, just think it.’
Allie shuffled and cut the cards again and Arabella laid them out.
‘You will,’ she said eventually, ‘but not until after you’ve changed your job and attended to this matter of being trapped. And also the shadow hanging over you.’
‘She’ll what, though?’ Donna asked. ‘And what shadow?’ She looked at Allie.
Allie grinned. ‘I will have a baby. That’s what you mean, isn’t it?’
Arabella nodded, tapping the Empress card.
‘But what shadow?’ Donna persisted.
‘Your sister knows all about it, but not why it’s haunting her,’ Arabella said.
‘Ho
w do you know we’re sisters?’ Pauline demanded.
‘You look alike, you bicker like sisters and it sounds like you had the same grandmothers. You don’t have to be psychic to work that out.’ To Allie, Arabella said, ‘I can tell you the genesis of your misery.’
From the card box she took another pack, unwrapped them and gave them to Allie to shuffle and cut.
‘This is the Minor Arcana. Take the top card off the cut and tell me what it is.’
Allie did. ‘The Ace of Wands.’
‘The root of fire,’ Arabella said. ‘Fire. Does that have any meaning for you?’
And instantly Allie was back on the third floor of Dunbar and Jones and there were smoke and flames, and wind and tremendous noise everywhere, and Irene was burning and screaming and she’d just slammed the door on her, and the air was so hot and there was no way out.
Across the table Arabella had gone rigid and broken out in a sweat, and as Allie cried out in fear she did too, throwing up the same arm to ward off some unseen threat.
Pauline shook her sister. ‘Allie! Allie!’
And then Allie was back with them, and Arabella was wiping her own white, white face with a handkerchief.
‘The Dunbar and Jones fire,’ she said, and it wasn’t a question.
Allie nodded. ‘I have terrible dreams sometimes.’
‘You didn’t tell us that,’ Donna said.
‘It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?’ Arabella asked.
Reluctantly, Allie nodded. ‘Sometimes I think I’m . . . well, I don’t know what I think.’
‘No, you’re not going mad,’ Arabella said, ‘but you do need to do something about it. You need to heal.’
‘But Allie, that was two years ago,’ Donna said. ‘I thought you’d put all that behind you?’
Pauline said, ‘God, Donna, you’re going to make a rubbish nurse. Nobody ever puts their friends burning to death behind them.’
Donna bristled. ‘Well, I don’t see you helping her.’
‘I don’t know what to do!’ Pauline exclaimed. ‘Why don’t you help?’
‘I don’t know what to do, either!’
Allie looked back as they gazed at her, their faces taut with misery.
Then Pauline said, ‘Nan knew some of it, didn’t she?’
Allie nodded. ‘But now she’s gone, too.’
They all sat in silence for a long moment, then Arabella slowly gathered the cards and offered them to Pauline.
Pauline’s cards included the Empress, the Tower, the Hermit, the Wheel of Fortune and Death.
‘Well, I think I can probably say it’s all here in one spread,’ Arabella said. ‘You’ll also have at least one child ’
‘Not if I can help it,’ Pauline interrupted.
Ignoring her, Arabella continued, ‘In the near future.’
Pauline snorted.
‘You’ll suffer tragedy too.’ Arabella looked up. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t pull my punches. You’ve also got the Tower. That can mean unforeseen, tragic and traumatic events. The Death card, though, while that can sometimes predict actual death, it more often symbolises a permanent and significant change in your life.’
Pauline looked sceptical.
Arabella went on. ‘But you also have the Hermit and the Wheel of Fortune, which are both good. The Hermit suggests you’re in need of time to examine your life. You might find this time while on a journey away from home, or simply by being alone. Either way you will need to make some decisions. And the Wheel, which is the destiny card, represents a new beginning, and is mostly positive.’
No one said anything for nearly a minute, until it became clear that Arabella had finished her readings.
Donna broke the silence. ‘Well, none of that sounded very cheery, did it?’
‘Mine was all right,’ Allie said. ‘I’m having a baby.’
‘Under a black shadow, though.’
Allie thought that was a bitchy thing for Donna to say, and wondered if she was upset because her cards said she wouldn’t be having children.
Arabella collected the tarot cards, folded them in their silk wrapping and put them away. ‘Thank you, ladies. Feel free to make another appointment whenever you like.’
Allie didn’t think they’d be back, but Pauline surprised her by asking, ‘Do you just read the cards, or are you a medium as well?’
There was another silence, this one quite uncomfortable, before Arabella said, ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Do you do seances?’
‘I have done,’ Arabella said cautiously. ‘I’d rather not.’
‘Thank you!’ Allie said brightly, before Pauline could suggest something awful like trying to contact Nan.
Outside, Pauline complained, ‘Well, that was a waste of a quid.’
‘Then why did you ask her about seances?’ Allie asked.
‘I don’t know. It just popped into my head.’
‘Well, I’m not going off to fight in some bloody war, that’s for sure,’ Donna declared. ‘Were you all right in there, Allie, when she said about the fire? I thought you were going to have a fit. Your face went all funny and you threw your arm out.’
‘So did that Arabella,’ Pauline said. ‘Did you notice? It was . . . weird.’
‘I’m fine,’ Allie said.
‘You should say when it’s bothering you. The fire, I mean.’
‘I will,’ Allie lied.
Chapter Fourteen
June 1956
Allie had had another bad night. This time she’d apparently leapt out of bed, scaring the life out of Mr De Valera who’d been curled up next to her, and tried to drag Sonny out as well, shouting that his hair was on fire, all while she was still asleep. Sonny had woken her, calmed her, fetched her cigarettes, made her a cup of tea, and told her she was going to see the doctor whether she liked it or not, because something was definitely not right.
She knew something wasn’t right, she just didn’t know how to fix it — and a doctor wouldn’t either. And this morning Sonny had gone off on his motorbike without saying where, or when he’d be back, and she was terrified she’d ruined his sleep once too often and he might have gone for good. Or at least a good while because he was sick and tired of her.
She sat on the back steps for ages, smoking and drinking tea and watching Dev stalk cabbage butterflies in her nan’s gone-to-seed vegetable garden, knowing she had washing to do and floors and the bathroom to clean, and not giving a toss. She didn’t have the energy. If Sonny had gone there was no reason to do anything any more.
Eventually she became aware of a horn tooting out on the street and thought, oh shut up, will you? But it didn’t so she got up to go and give the rowdy bugger a piece of her mind. Halfway round the house, though, the noise stopped, but not before she’d seen a truck parked right outside her sitting room window. The back of the truck was open and two men were rolling a large, gleaming white refrigerator down a ramp. One of them was Sonny. He grinned hugely when he spotted her.
‘What’s that?’ she said, though she could see very well what it was.
‘It’s a present for you.’
‘You bought a refrigerator?’
‘Well, you wanted one, didn’t you?’
‘But it’s Saturday. The shops are shut.’ Hating herself for thinking it, she wondered if it had been pinched.
‘Got contacts, you know.’ Sonny tapped his nose. ‘Bert opened the warehouse for me. It’s from Farmers.’ He and Bert righted the refrigerator on the dolly.
‘How did you pay for it?’ Allie asked.
‘Sold the Indian.’
‘Oh Sonny, no!’ Allie suddenly felt as though her chest had filled with concrete and she could scarcely breathe. She turned and ran down the path, through the back door and into the bedroom, where she lay on the bed listening to the thumping and swearing as the men manhandled the refrigerator up the steps and into the kitchen. Then she heard the truck drive off.
Sonny came in and sat on the end of the bed
. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’
‘But the Indian! You loved it, and so did I!’
Shrugging, Sonny said, ‘I know. But we can get another one later. I thought you needed cheering up.’
Allie burst into tears. It must have ripped his heart out selling the motorbike. And what for? So the milk didn’t go off? To stop her tantrums? And she hadn’t even really wanted a refrigerator. Not really. God, she was stupid. And gullible.
‘I do like it, thank you very much,’ she said stiffly, though she suspected she’d never really care for it, no matter how handy it proved to be. ‘But I do wish you hadn’t sold the motorbike.’
Sonny took her hand and helped her off the bed. ‘Come on, let’s go and put some things in it, shall we? Can you put veggies in? What about beer? Yeah, let’s put my DB in it! DB’s much better cold.’
‘And Dev’s meat,’ Allie said, following him down the hallway, trying to get into the spirit of things.
‘He might not eat it if it’s cold. It might hurt his teeth.’
‘Well, too bad for him,’ Allie said, opening the meat safe. ‘Here, put these sausages in.’
‘Bread?’ Sonny suggested. ‘Can you put bread in?’
‘Mum doesn’t. She says it goes hard and yuck.’
When they’d finished loading the refrigerator and had put water in the ice cube tray in the little ice box, they stood back and looked into it.
Sonny said, ‘It doesn’t feel very cold, does it?’
‘I think we have to shut the door and let it cool down.’
‘Right.’ Sonny closed the door.
Allie kissed him on the cheek. ‘Thank you. I am pleased. Really.’
*
After lunch Sonny went to the pub to have a few beers with an army mate he’d served with in South Korea, and Allie thought about going to visit her mother but decided she didn’t have the energy. Instead she gave the bathroom and floors a bit of a clean, then lay on the sofa in the sitting room and read. The book — a play, actually — was called Cat On a Hot Tin Roof and was really good. Peg had lent it to her. Peg lent her lots of books, which had surprised her at first because she’d thought Peg was probably the sort of girl who’d prefer True Romance magazine, but she didn’t, she liked quite intellectual books. This one was intellectual and bitchy and full of sexual tension.
From the Ashes Page 23
