Sweet Temptation

by Lucy Diamond

  Gemma’s shoulders shook with mirth. ‘Oh my God!’ she squealed. ‘He’s called Gary. And … yes. Your spirits are right. He’s quite … ahem. Well-endowed.’

  Shelley and Nat were in hysterics. ‘I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again now,’ Shelley giggled.

  ‘Too busy looking at his packet,’ Nat spluttered.

  ‘Who’s Gary?’ I hissed, nonplussed.

  ‘New man. Only met him last weekend,’ Shelley whispered back.

  ‘Mind you,’ Susan was continuing, ‘he might be a big lad, but he’s not … ahhh.’ She broke off and lowered her voice. ‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but the spirits are telling me he’s not … ahem … using his assets in their best way. Let me think of a nice way to put it: it’s as if he’s standing at the cashpoint, yeah, and he keeps trying to put in the right number, but no money’s coming out. Am I right?’

  Gemma wiped her eyes as we all collapsed in hysterics again on the sofa. ‘You’re right,’ she giggled. ‘But I’m working on him, don’t worry.’

  The readings went on. Susan foresaw a trip to America for Gemma, a change in career for Shelley and a tall blonde man for Nat. It all sounded very exciting and now, with two glasses of wine down my throat, I had finally relaxed and become totally engrossed in everyone else’s predictions.

  In fact, I was enjoying myself so much, it was something of a shock when Nat got up from the table and Susan looked at me and said, ‘Okay. Let’s have number four then. Jess, did you say your name was?’

  ‘Oh,’ I said, stupidly. ‘Is it my turn?’

  ‘She’s quick off the mark, our Jess,’ Gemma teased. ‘We don’t need any spirits to tell us that.’

  I turned red as I got to my feet and went over to the table. My heart drummed a fast beat as I sat down near Susan. My mouth felt dry and I licked my lips.

  ‘Right we are then,’ she said briskly, passing me the cards. ‘Shuffle those and cut them twice for me, love – split them into three piles, left to right in front of you. While you’re holding the cards, I want you to think about any questions you want the cards to reveal. Just keep those questions in your head – no need to say anything.’

  I did as she said, my fingers trembling slightly as I held the large, slippery cards. The first question that popped into my head was: Will me and Charlie be all right?

  Then I felt disloyal. No. I should think of something different. Mustn’t doubt Charlie. What should I ask? I could smell Susan’s strong perfume, a rather sickly patchouli kind of smell, and it was clouding my head. Don’t start thinking bad things about her perfume, she can probably read your thoughts! a voice warned in my brain, and I almost dropped the cards in my nervousness. Could she read my mind? Did she know I didn’t like her perfume?

  ‘That’s it, when you’re ready,’ she said, and I realized with a guilty start that I was still shuffling the cards. Quickly, I cut them as she’d said, and she gathered the three piles from right to left back into one deck. She took them up from the table, held them for a moment and stared at me, her gaze watching and thoughtful.

  I felt stripped bare under her deep brown eyes, as if she could see right into me. It wasn’t a nice feeling. ‘The spirits are giving me the name Angela. Did you know an Angela? She’s passed over to the spirit world now, but it wasn’t long ago.’

  I gulped. ‘My grandma was called Angela,’ I said in a hoarse voice. ‘She died two years ago.’

  Susan nodded. ‘Angela’s here with us now,’ she said, and I glanced about stupidly, as if I expected to see my grandma sitting there at the end of the table, hair set in silver-blue curls, dipping a shortbread finger into her cup of tea. ‘She says … She’s shaking a fist, actually. She’s angry – but not with you. With a man. She says he’s a bully, and she doesn’t like bullies.’ She looked right at me. ‘Does that make sense?’

  I looked away and shook my head. ‘No,’ I said.

  Susan shrugged. ‘Sometimes the spirit messages become tangled as they come through – that’s what I’m getting from her anyway. Maybe it’ll become clearer later on. Let’s start the reading.’

  She turned over three cards. One showed a woman wearing a crown, sitting on a throne at the edge of the sea. The next card showed a woman sitting up in a bed, her hands over her face, with a row of swords behind her. And the third … I let out a gasp. The third card was called ‘Death’ and showed an armoured skeleton on horseback, with people swooning and dying around the horse’s feet.

  Oh my goodness. Just what I’d dreaded. Who was going to die? Me? Charlie? My mum? My dad?

  Susan patted my hand. ‘Everyone reacts like that when they see the Death card, but it doesn’t mean what you think, don’t worry. It means change, upheaval – not usually a person actually dying.’ She studied the cards. ‘Let’s see … Okay, so we’ve got the Queen of Cups – I’m assuming that’s you. She’s gentle and intuitive, a kind person, but I’m picking up on some weakness there. A person who fears being alone. I’m getting that you’re the sort of person who would rather stay in a relationship for the sake of it, even if it’s not a good relationship.’

  ‘No,’ I said quickly, shaking my head. ‘I don’t think so.’ I couldn’t look over at the girls on the sofa – I didn’t want to see their faces. I wished they weren’t there to hear this.

  ‘The Death card symbolizes a huge change in your life, one that you’ll have no control over,’ she said. ‘And the Nine of Swords here is an unhappy card – it stands for deception and loss – violence, even. It’s the card of the martyr, but there’s a positive message of new life coming out of the suffering too, so it’s not all bad.’

  I had shrunk away from her on my chair. I wasn’t enjoying this any more. How come all the others had got nice stuff predicted for them, when my cards just said death and violence?

  I made a show of looking at my watch. ‘Thanks, but I really should be getting home now,’ I said, rising to my feet.

  But Susan took my hand in a surprisingly firm grip. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ she said. ‘You mustn’t be afraid. Not of me, anyway. But you’re right to be afraid of him. He’s not good for you, this man. You need to get away from him.’

  I shook her off. ‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ I said defensively, my voice coming out shrill and high-pitched. ‘I’m very happy. I love him. And I’m fed up with people having a pop at him.’ I turned on the others, who were staring up at me from their perches on the sofa. ‘Did you plan this? Did you get her to say all this stuff, or what? Because I don’t think it’s very funny. I know you don’t like Charlie, but I do. And … and I’m going home now.’

  They rose up off their seats, faces imploring, but I wouldn’t listen. I stormed out of the front door, fuming, and marched home so fast I became breathless. What a joke. Hiding behind cars until Charlie had gone out, and then setting me up with that charlatan, Susan. I bet they’d fed her all the lines about Charlie too. I was glad I hadn’t mentioned the wedding date to them. Because there was no way I was going to invite them now. I never wanted to see them again.

  ‘Good evening, everybody. I hope you’ve been enjoying the sun … well, those five minutes of sunshine we had today between the showers, anyway! And how are we all doing tonight? Does anybody want to start things off with some news?’

  It was Monday evening, which meant FatBusters. I was hoping for a good result this week because I’d absolutely starved myself all weekend and was convinced I must have lost a few pounds. Even when I got back from the tarot disaster, crying and desperate for comfort food, I had managed to resist eating anything and busied myself instead by snipping out pictures of bridal gowns from my magazines, then sticking them all over the fridge and inside the food cupboard door to remind me not to pick at cheese or chocolate biscuits. Then, feeling bad about the two glasses of wine I’d necked (115 calories each), I’d held my head over the toilet, trying to sick them back up. I hadn’t managed it, though, and then I’d cried even more. My throat was raw from retch
ing and I felt utterly useless. Fat lot of good I’d be as an anorexic, I thought miserably. I couldn’t even make myself puke.

  Still, on the bright side, I had managed to hold back from stuffing my face at Mum and Dad’s barbecue on Sunday afternoon. I’d been really looking forward to telling them our big news, although things hadn’t panned out quite how I’d expected.

  I’d barely got through the hellos at the front door before I came out with it, such was my excitement.

  ‘Guess what! We’ve set a date for the wedding – the Saturday before Christmas! We’re going to get the invitations sent out as soon as possible, but I just wanted to tell you so that if you speak to Aunty Jean or anyone, you can ask them to save the date on their calendars and—’ I broke off. Charlie was giving me shut-up! eyes. I wasn’t sure why. ‘And that’s our news!’ I finished lamely.

  Mum and Dad had exchanged a look. ‘Well, that’s … that’s lovely, pet,’ Mum had said. Then, with a meaningful glance at Charlie, ‘And is this the definite date now? I mean, have you booked somewhere?’

  ‘Well, not quite,’ I’d started. ‘Not yet. We—’

  Charlie had interrupted. ‘That’s the date we’re hoping for, Mrs Linley.’

  ‘Yes,’ I’d said, pleased that he’d used the word ‘hoping’. ‘We’re still looking for the right venue, but hopefully we can book something really soon, if you’re free.’

  Mum’s lips were pursed. ‘Well, you’d better hurry. The Saturday before Christmas? I bet most places will be booked already.’ She paused and her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at Charlie, then back at me. ‘We are free that weekend, but … Well. It’s probably best to wait until you’ve got a place for definite before I tell everyone, yeah? We don’t want a repeat of last time.’

  There had been a horrible silence until Dad clapped his hands together in a not-very-convincing attempt to be jovial. ‘Who wants some of my homemade punch, then?’

  Anyway, they could think what they liked, but we were going to get married in December, and I was going to lose two stone by then. I’d show them all.

  I was jerked out of my thoughts by a whisper from my left. ‘Hiya, Jess.’

  I turned and saw that Maddie had just sat down on the chair next to me. ‘Oh, hi,’ I whispered back. ‘Everything all right?’

  She seemed to tense at the question and I felt terrible. God, I was stupid – I was always putting my great clod-hopping foot in it. Of course she wasn’t all right. I’d seen the state her mum was in last week, so fragile and weak. What a dumb thing to say.

  ‘Fine,’ she said, with this awful fake smile. Then as soon as she thought I’d looked away, I saw the smile slip right off her face like butter from a hot knife. I felt a stab of sympathy for her. My mum might have hurt my feelings by not taking my wedding news seriously, but at least she was fit and well, healthy and active, and, annoyingly, still slim enough to get into her own wedding dress (a fact she delighted in, often reappearing in it after a few drinks on her and Dad’s anniversary, her cheeks pink with excitement as her train rustled down the stairs after her). She was still very much alive, anyway. I vowed to go round and see her really soon to make amends.

  ‘This week I want to talk about exercise,’ Alison was saying at the front of the room. A groan went up from everyone and she wagged a finger. ‘Now, now. That’s not the spirit! Exercise is your friend, people. Exercise is brilliant at burning calories – and there are all sorts of fun ways you can do it. And yes, I do know what you’re thinking, Derek – and you’ll be pleased to hear that that absolutely does count as very good exercise!’

  Everyone laughed and Derek turned bright red, bless him.

  Alison spread her hands wide, her face a picture of innocence. ‘What? I’m talking about walking to Villa Park, thank you! What did you think I meant?’ Another roar of laughter at the pained look on her face. ‘Honestly! Minds in the gutter, the lot of you.’ She grinned. ‘So let’s have a chat about exercise. Who’s getting some?’ More hoots of laughter. ‘I mean, who’s getting some regular exercise, you dirty little so-and-sos!’

  A few hands went up, Maddie’s included. Mine stayed down. Although I was planning to start salsa dancing, I hadn’t done anything about it yet. I hadn’t even asked Charlie if he fancied coming along, remembering how he always called the Strictly Come Dancing boys ‘a bunch of poofs’. I was going to have to think of a way to convince him it was a macho thing to do, and didn’t imply that he was remotely gay in any way.

  ‘I’ve started playing rounders after work with some mates in the park,’ a woman with short black hair said. ‘Warley Park every Wednesday night, if any of you lot fancy joining us?’

  ‘Excellent,’ Alison said. ‘Something social and sporting – perfect. I hope there’s no stopping off at the pub afterwards though, Maria, eh?’ Maria blushed and giggled but said nothing. ‘Anyone else? Tracey – what kind of exercise do you do?’

  ‘I go swimming in my lunch break,’ Tracey said. ‘I find it really relaxing, ploughing up and down.’

  ‘And an excellent calorie-burner too, as well as building stamina,’ Alison said. ‘Good for you, Tracey. Maddie? Nice to see you again. What exercise have you been doing?’ But before Maddie could reply, Alison’s mouth suddenly dropped open. ‘Oh my goodness!’ she exclaimed, pointing a finger. ‘It was you on the radio, wasn’t it? My daughter said she’d heard FatBusters mentioned on Brum FM, so I listened to the podcast. Did anyone else hear Maddie on the show?’

  About fifteen hands went up and Maddie turned scarlet. ‘Looks like my cover’s blown,’ she said jokily.

  But there was a clamour of voices as everyone started congratulating her. ‘You were awesome!’

  ‘Go, Maddie! You’re doing great!’

  ‘After I’d heard you, I went to the gym for the first time in ten years – I’ve got my induction tomorrow. I’d never have dared do it without you.’

  Lauren, who I’d only just noticed sitting across the room, spoke up too. ‘You were fantastic, Maddie,’ she said warmly.

  I had no idea what they were talking about. It was all pan pipes and whale music in the salon’s therapy rooms, so I only ever got to listen to the radio in my car on the way home, never in the daytime.

  Alison made a theatrical ‘Cut!’ movement with her hands. ‘Okay, okay, that was my fault, going completely off-track there,’ she said. ‘If you didn’t know, Maddie works at Brum FM on the Collette McMahon show.’

  There was a smattering of boos and hisses around the room. ‘She is such a bitch,’ said a woman with beaded dreads, sucking her teeth.

  ‘And Maddie did a report on how she’s been going to the gym so much recently,’ Alison said, her eyes twinkling. ‘I’ve got to say, girl, you’re looking good for it.’

  Maddie blushed. ‘Thank you. Yes, I have been working out quite a bit lately, and I’ve been shocked to discover that I’m actually enjoying it,’ she said. Then she glanced over at Tracey, the woman who’d spoken a few minutes earlier. ‘I haven’t dared use the pool yet, though – I’m too scared of causing a tidal wave when I get in.’

  Alison nodded. ‘I think everyone here has probably had that fear before. Not of you causing a tidal wave, Maddie! I mean of having to parade about in a swimming costume in front of the general public. Back in my Big Days, the first time I went to Harborne Pool up the road, I was scared that the sight of me waddling along like a whale in a swimming cap would make children cry. But sometimes, guys, you’ve got to take the plunge. Boom-boom. Anyway, Maddie, you’re doing great – keep up the good work, kiddo. And everyone else – my challenge to you this week is to try a new form of exercise and report back to us next time. Anything you want. And enjoy yourself! You’ll be blasting through those calories, remember.’

  It was time for the weighin next, and I was really chuffed to hear I’d lost three pounds.

  ‘That’s wonderful, Jess,’ Alison said, patting my shoulder. ‘Super dooper, you diet trooper, you. Hey, guys, Jess is a th
ree-pounder this week!’

  Everyone clapped me and I felt my face turn hot with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. But then Maddie went up for her weighin and blew me out of the water.

  ‘A whole stone!’ Alison whooped. ‘Maddie’s lost a whole stone in three weeks – round of applause, please!’

  There was a storm of clapping and cheering for Maddie as she made her way back to her chair – people actually stood up to applaud, as if she were famous.

  ‘Don’t forget those charms for your bracelet!’ Alison called, making hers jingle on her wrist. ‘You’ve earned them, lady!’

  Lauren came over to us as Maddie sat down again. ‘Nice work, you two,’ she said, smiling. ‘I reckon that calls for a celebratory diet drink at the pub, don’t you?’

  I smiled back. A quick one wouldn’t hurt, would it? Charlie wouldn’t know if I just had the one.

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ Maddie said.

  ‘Me too,’ I agreed. ‘You’re on.’

  ‘So here we are again,’ Lauren said. We’d chatted all the way to the pub and now we were sitting on the same velvety banquette as last time, with three drinks on the table. ‘Let’s have a toast to Ms Weightloss and Radio Star herself, Maddie!’

  We clinked our glasses together. ‘And cheers to you two as well,’ said Maddie. ‘This was a good idea, Lauren. Sorry I haven’t been around lately – I’m a useless Diet Buddy. Have you two been in touch much over the last few weeks?’

  We looked at one another and I felt embarrassed. I hadn’t phoned Lauren and she hadn’t phoned me. I found her a bit scary, to be honest, and I got the feeling she didn’t think much of me. ‘Um … no,’ I faltered.

  ‘God, I’d forgotten all about the Diet Buddy thing,’ Lauren confessed breezily. ‘Sorry, I’m useless.’

  ‘Oh well, any time either of you want to ring me, do,’ Maddie said. ‘I called Jess when I was having a wobble, didn’t I? And Lauren, I’ve got to tell you, she was brilliant. Kept me on the straight and narrow when I was about to go diving for biscuits. In fact, that turned out to be the day I first made it to the gym, and ever since then …’ She shrugged. I blushed, embarrassed and pleased all at once with the warmth of her smile. It was nice to be told I’d helped.