The only thing I recognized in my suitcase was my travel jewelry case. When I opened it I found a lovely silver brooch in the shape of two hearts and a Scottish thistle beneath a crown. Something about it made me happy, as if it was imbued with joy. Had been forged with it. And, of course, it was romantic. I pinned it to my blouse, wondering how I'd acquired it. If it had been a gift from Austin or the show. Or a purchase I'd made myself. Maybe something to add authenticity to my Elinor dress. I tried to remember if I ever remembered seeing Elinor wear something similar.
Nigel had studied me carefully when he picked me up. "You look stunning and ready to go on holiday."
I couldn't tell how sincere he was. At this point, he'd do or say almost anything not to upset me and to make me comfortable and happy. He'd frowned slightly when his gaze lingered an instant on my brooch. Which might have been an indication that Austin had given it to me. Or might have been my imagination.
He seemed almost puzzled by my change in style. Whoever I'd morphed into surprised him, too. But was he pleased about it? Despite his compliment, I wasn't sure.
The drive to Avebury was familiar, but only because I'd been on this route many times before. Nigel drove. My head injury prevented me from driving until the doctors gave me the okay and I got off the drugs. You know the warnings when you're on painkillers. Do not operate heavy machinery. Sudden drowsiness may occur.
I was happy to let Nigel take the wheel. I didn't particularly like driving on the opposite side of the road at the best of times. When I was thinking clearly. The swelling on my brain was receding slowly. I was making progress. But I wasn't eager to repeat my left, right, left mistake again so soon. And certainly not in a moving vehicle.
Summer was high tourist season. Avebury was only a few hours outside of London, but the heavy traffic made the trip longer. Nigel and I made pleasant, but superficial, conversation. Which wasn't unusual. But I found myself feigning tiredness as an excuse to close my eyes and think and avoid any difficult conversation.
Hormones can go crazy after a miscarriage and lead to depression. But I found myself dealing with it surprisingly well. Mainly I wondered about Austin. Had I wanted his baby? Or, as Beth had suggested, had I not known about it? Had it been the result of birth control failure? I'd found a birth control pill compact in my purse. Would I ever know the truth? And if he didn't know, did I ever tell him? And if so, how?
Too many difficult questions made my head hurt.
"Are you all right?"
I opened my eyes and smiled at him. "Yes, of course. Just more tired than I'd like."
"Rest," he said with a smile. "And let me take care of things. You deserve it."
Avebury had a good-sized car park near the circles. As we pulled in, it was noisy, and full of cars and caravans. Any spot in the shade was a valuable commodity. Nigel had to circle and wait for any spot to become available. And, of course, the spot he got was in full sun. Fortunately, I found a pair of sunglasses in my purse. I slid them on as I got out of the car, enjoying the warmth of the sun on my skin.
This was the kind of place people liked to bring their families to give them a proper sense of history and mystery. Children pranced around the lot.
Nigel came around to my side of the car and took my hand. "This is your expedition, darling. Where do we start?"
I looked at the grassy hills surrounding us. It would have been nice to think I could have rambled over the hills for hours. But despite my strong body, my strength was limited. I had to use it wisely. "The teashop? I could use a good scone and some clotted cream. I may not remember much from these past months, but I know I must have missed those."
He smiled and led me to the teashop with its distinctive thatched roof. It was crowded inside. I took off my sunglasses and tucked them in my purse, taking the place in. Trying to remember. Something. Anything.
We had to wait for a table. I would have liked to say I recognized the shop, but it was familiar only in that it was like so many village teashops. Quaint. Cozy. With character, as so many Brits are fond of saying. Which most often means with exposed beams and history.
At first I thought it was my imagination, but we seemed to be attracting attention. Then I heard the murmurs and saw the subtle pointing to us.
Isn't that Reggie?
No, no. The lookalike, I think. Yes, the lookalike. He's friends with the owner. Remember the tea leaves? She read her tea leaves and predicted all this connection to Jamie.
My heart started racing. I wasn't used to being the center of attention. I didn't know how celebrities dealt with it. There was something soothing about walking into a shop and just being part of the crowd. It was something we all took for granted until it disappeared.
Seeing my discomfort, Nigel took my arm. "You look faint. We should leave."
I hesitated. I needed to see the shop owner and ask her what she remembered about my last visit here. I wondered why Nigel didn't feel the same. He must have wanted to see her again. She and he were acquainted to the point where it could be said she was his ally. I was saved from making a decision by a woman who came rushing toward us, calling a greeting to Nigel and me.
She gave Nigel a warm hug and took my hands firmly in hers. "Oh, pet, I read about the accident. Still recovering, are you?" Her gaze ran over me. "Well, you look lovely. Simply lovely. And, odd to say, more relaxed than the last time you were here. You made your decision then, did you?" She smiled at Nigel. "And now you've come for me to read the leaves again and predict the next major step of your life!"
Before either of us could protest, she led us toward the private area through a door at the back of the shop. "Come with me to the private quarters in the back. We're creating too much of a stir out here."
I glanced back at the crowded shop. "I don't want to take you away from your business. You're certainly busy."
"No trouble, I assure you." She nodded, looking pleased as she led us into a small, private sitting room. "It's the tourist season, of course. But you're largely responsible. You and Jamie!
"I must say, I'm surprised, but pleased, by my forecast for you. I was only just learning when I read your leaves. You were one of my first. Do you remember?"
I shook my head. "Sorry, no. I had a bit of a bump on the head."
"Oh." She nodded. "It's messed with your thinking, has it?"
"They assure me it will come back soon." I forced myself to smile and look confident.
"I'm sure it will. The doctors know what they're about these days, don't they?" She indicated a pair of chairs around a table by a window. "Your reading taught me to think more broadly and less traditionally when I do my readings. Nothing so mundane for me when I'm stumped now. Though I don't go too far out, if you know what I mean.
"It's no use making wild, unreasonable, unrealistic predictions. Clients don't appreciate those. But you need patience at times to see how things turn out. Yours stumped me, really. Until it came true. Now look at the two of you!"
I took a seat gratefully. The simple walk from the car park had tired me. I was going to have to do better than this if I was going to walk the circle.
Nigel was about to take a seat when she stopped him. "You've told me yourself, Nigel, that you're not a believer in my craft. But you're a bit of history buff, if I remember right. You'll want to have a go at the museum and just give Blair and me a few minutes of girl time while I do another reading."
He smiled quite handsomely. Nigel could be devastatingly charming when he chose. "If you want me out of the way, you don't have to hint, Hazel. Just tell me straight out." He winked at me. "I'm happy enough to prowl around the museum for a bit. Just don't wear Blair out. She's straight out of hospital just this morning."
"So recently?" She looked pleased we'd come directly to her.
I nodded. "We're on the way to the south coast for a vacation while I recover."
"A holiday is just what you need," she said. "Sea air can be quite healing."
"All right, then," Nigel sa
id. "I can see Blair's in good hands." He kissed me lightly on the lips. "I'm off." He paused at the door to look back at us. "Predict a good future for us, Hazel. I insist."
We watched him depart.
Hazel smiled at me. "That's a lovely Scottish brooch you're wearing. You should be wearing it pinned to a shawl or a kilt, I suppose. But it's too warm a day for that."
I glanced down at the brooch pinned to the collar of my blouse. "Thank you."
"Sterling silver, from the looks of it." She leaned closer for a better view. "And expensive. A nice example of a luckenbooth brooch. Did a young man give it to you, then?"
I looked at her, puzzled and pleased. "Luckenbooth? What do you mean? Why do you assume a man gave it to me?"
"You don't know?"
I shook my head.
"Luckenbooth is the Scottish equivalent of the more popular Irish claddagh ring, a traditional love token. It's often given as an engagement or wedding token. Luckenbooth is a Scots word for a lockable stall. Not so romantic, unless it means your heart is locked up with another's. That's why I ask."
I studied it again. "It's just a trinket." But I wondered again how I'd gotten it and whether it had come from Austin.
"It's very lovely. I'll get the tea," Hazel said. "I'll be right back." She disappeared into the shop.
I studied the room, but nothing came to me.
She returned a few minutes later with a tea tray full of a steaming pot of tea and a heaping plate of scones, clotted cream, and fresh berries.
"I owe a lot of my new success to you," Hazel said. "Many people tell me they come to the shop just because of my predictions and Jamie. That show has created a host of cottage industries around its success. To tell you the truth, I'm a bit gobsmacked by all of the attention we've received because of it and you."
I nodded. "If I helped you out, I'm happy." I paused. "I wish I could remember it. I'm sure it will all come back eventually. I know I was here in March. I've read what you predicted. Can you help me remember anything?"
"So what is it you want to know?" Hazel said.
"Anything you can tell me."
She took a minute to gather her thoughts. "It was a cold, rainy day. Very quiet here, as you might expect. You were one of my only customers that day, so I convinced you to let me practice my reading on you. You were disturbed by something. You had an important decision to make. And it was weighing heavily on you.
"I told you to make sure you visited the museum, and suggested you get a tour guide to give you the history of the stones. I saw you walk out to the stones. And then you disappeared. My friend at the museum says you bought a ticket, but never used it. Gave us a puzzle for a while. Does any of that sound familiar?"
I shook my head. "Afraid not. But thank you."
She nodded and poured me a cup of hot tea. Given the heat of the day, iced tea seemed like it would have been a more appropriate choice. But I took the cup gratefully.
"Do you remember how to prepare for a reading?"
I shook my head. "Sorry, no."
"No matter. It's easy enough. I'll guide you through it." She nodded toward the empty doorway. "That decision you had to make had to do with him, Nigel, I'm almost certain. And, from the looks of you, he's still what has you upset and undetermined.
"To tell you the truth, despite what I've seen in the tabloids and on social media, it's hard to believe you're here with Nigel and not your Jamie. Is it that you don't remember him?"
She was astute. I debated whether I should confide in her. She seemed quick enough to capitalize on my apparent fame. But it was hard to deny the obvious. "I'm conflicted, yes. But that's just between you and me. You have to promise not to share it with the press or anyone. And certainly not with Nigel."
She nodded solemnly. "Your secret is safe enough with me. I owe you too much to betray your confidence." She gestured toward my tea. "Now. Drink up. Put the saucer over the empty cup when you're done and turn it over. We want the best reading we can get, pet."
The cup was steaming.
"Perhaps an ice cube to cool it?" I said.
She laughed. "Take your time. We don't want a burned tongue to add to your list of injuries. Have a scone while we chat and let it cool. Be sure to think of the question you have in mind while you drink."
My question had to be blatantly obvious—Austin or Nigel? A man I knew or a man I couldn't remember? A man who liked me flirty and fun? Or a man who liked me conservative and serious? What role was I most comfortable playing? Which was the real me? Who could I most be myself with? Who did I trust? Who was telling the truth? Too many questions?
She chatted and I mostly listened, thinking of my questions and sipping my tea until it was cool enough to drink down. When I finished the cup, I turned it upside down on a saucer, turned it three times, and handed it to her.
She pointed the handle toward me and righted the cup, peering inside it excitedly. "Oh!" She wrinkled her brow.
Something about her gesture and expression sparked a dim memory. My heart raced. It was a start. Maybe my memory was beginning to come back.
"What is it?" I said. "Don't tell me my question was too jumbled to read."
"Your question is all over your face, love. And in your manner. I don't need the leaves to see it." She gave me a kindly look and stared into my cup again. "Just like last time, the leaves indicate a journey into the past. But no tears in this one."
"That's a relief," I said.
She smiled at me and pointed to what she meant. "We know a little more now than we did last time, which makes things a bit more obvious. It's clear your journey into the past is to Scotland to do your teaser for Jamie. To pretend to be Elinor."
I nodded and pulled my phone out. "May I take a picture of my cup?"
"Going to do a little research later to check up on me and make sure I'm not just making things up?" Her eyes twinkled.
I laughed. "I hadn't thought of that." I paused. "Actually, I want to remember. Having a picture of your china teacup, and the tea, and the reading, so like before, may help. I hope it will."
She shrugged. "Go ahead, then, pet."
I took the picture and nodded. "I have to agree about the trip to Scotland. That makes perfect sense. What else do you see?" I stared into my cup now, going along with her in the hopes I had more flashes into the memories I'd lost.
She pointed. "There's a heart. It's gently broken. But not beyond repair. It's not yours."
"Then whose?" I said, trying to see what she saw.
"Jamie's. Your Jamie's." She glanced up at me. "It beats pure and true for you. Seeing you with Nigel is wounding it, and him, love."
I wanted to believe her. Which startled me. It was as if an intrinsic part of me loved Austin, this man I didn't know. And yearned for him. That was crazy. I wasn't usually a wild romantic.
I was cautious. "Not Nigel's? Not some other guy's?" I looked her in the eye. "How can you be sure it's Austin's?"
She pointed to another clump of leaves near the heart. "That's a J, as sure as I live."
My eyes went wide with wonder. She was exactly right. It was clearly a J. "Be honest. You're just Team Jamie. Reggie never had a chance."
"It doesn't matter what I think." Her eyes sparkled as she looked at me, amazingly unperturbed. "This is your reading."
She paused. "The answer has always been simple and clear. I saw it on your face when you came in and now the tea has confirmed it. Nigel is not the one for you. But just because it's simple, doesn't mean it's easy or uncomplicated.
"I can't say what has driven you back to Nigel or why Austin isn't here with you. And the details, I gather, are private and not for my ears. All I can do is tell you what the leaves say. Austin is your man and your heart's desire. Listen to your heart. It will tell you what to do."
I pointed to my cup. "Is this why you sent Nigel away? I thought you were on his side. He thinks so. And then there's all the PR you've done for him."
She smiled enigmatically. "I don't
take sides." She looked into the cup again and pointed. "See? There. Waves and adventure. Near the J. You and Austin are going to have an adventure at sea."
I laughed. I didn't know what to make of the reading. Nigel came back just then, before I could ask anything more. I insisted on paying Hazel for the reading. She wouldn't let me pay for the tea. She wished us both well and told us to keep in touch.
We posed for a picture with her, Nigel with his arm looped around my waist. Hazel said she was going to print it out and hang it in the shop to advertise that celebrities hung out there.
I laughed and told her, "I think you should be aiming for real celebrities. We're just lookalikes capitalizing on the real fame and talent."
"You are real celebrities," she said as she hugged me goodbye. "But if you could put a word in with Connor Reid and Samantha Roberts for me? Maybe mention how good my award-winning scones are and how accurate my readings? Word of mouth is the best advertising I can get. If they were to mention me…"
I opened my mouth to deny that I had any connection to the famous actors, and then remembered all of the pictures of us together. And the fact that I was soon heading to Scotland to watch them on set and film some teasers. I smiled and nodded.
Nigel took my arm and led me out the back door of the private part of the shop, neatly avoiding another brush with celebrity. I put my sunglasses on. "How was the museum? Were you able to avoid being mobbed?"
"I can be covert when I want to be," he said. "I escaped notice." He helped me up the hillside. "The museum was interesting."
Avebury is a wonderful place. You can amble right up to the stones and walk along footpaths through fields. Sheep and cattle grazed nearby as if unimpressed by the ancient stones.
"My parents met here," I told Nigel when we reached the circle.
He nodded. He'd heard the story before. I didn't bother repeating it.
I wandered around, looking at the stones, but nothing more than awe came to me. And a feeling of restlessness and frustration. Why couldn't I remember? Nigel had more energy than I did. He wanted to walk farther on. He probably needed time to think as much as I did. I made my excuses and stayed near the spot where we entered the stones.
Simply Blair: A Jet City Novel Page 8
