by Hannah Emery
Grace shakes her head hurriedly. ‘Elsie won’t talk about Mum.’
‘Okay.’
Noel is quiet for a while and Grace feels guilty for snapping. She stands up and touches Noel’s shoulder. It’s firmer than she expected: muscular and masculine. ‘I’m sure I’m overreacting. I know my mum had nightmares a lot. I obviously take after her.’
‘Well, from what I remember of your mum, that’s not a bad thing.’
‘Really? Nobody ever seems to remember Mum positively. Even I struggle, sometimes.’
‘Your mum just had a difficult time with things, that’s all. But she was a good person.’
‘Thanks for saying that. It makes me feel a lot better. I think I’m a lot like her.’
‘I think you are, too,’ Noel smiles.
‘Noel, your mum’s worried about me because she worked out that I have premonitions like my mum used to.’
Noel stares at Grace for a moment, his eyebrows raised. ‘Go on,’ he says.
Grace sighs. ‘Well, I don’t think I have as many visions as my mum did. I certainly couldn’t make money out of mine. But I do have them. That’s why your mum was angry with me before you came in the room. She’s worried that I’m going to do something stupid because of my visions. She said my mum lived her life all wrong. And she’s worried I’m going to do the same. But I can’t leave things, because I feel like I’m being warned about something, about leaving things too late to rescue. I have this powerful feeling that even if I don’t pursue what’s meant to happen, it will still be my future somehow. I’m not sure what to do … ’ she trails off, aware that she’s speaking in code and probably not making much sense to Noel.
‘It’s simple. Do what you want to,’ Noel says. He stands then, and seems to think about something as he puts his plate on the worktop beside the sink. ‘I need to set off home really. Bea’s got some work thing that she wants me to go to tonight, and I should beat the traffic.’ He catches Grace looking at him and smiles. ‘I’m not dismissing what you’ve said. I just think you should keep things as simple as possible and try to choose what you really want. Try not to be influenced by the visions you’ve had.’
If only, Grace thinks, as Noel gives her a quick, tight hug and wanders out of the room. She wants to run after him, to ask him to stay. She wants to ask Noel if he thinks she is meant to be with Eliot. She wants to take Noel’s strong, safe hands and ask him who he wants her to be with. But she stays rooted to her chair, the scent of charred bacon lingering in the air, thick in her throat as smoke.
Chapter Fourteen
Louisa, 1968
‘There’s another one who wants to see you, Lou. Over there, by the bar.’ Jimmy grinned at Louisa and rubbed his fingers together, his eyes widening greedily. He had taken the role of Louisa’s manager since she had been telling fortunes, without any hint from Louisa that she wanted him to. He had her charging £1 per fortune.
‘You’ll be rich soon, Louisa. Really rich!’
Little did he know about the fortune from her father’s house that had been sitting in the bank untouched since her eighteenth birthday, over two years ago. Louisa hadn’t told anybody about her small fortune, not even Mags. Sometimes she wondered if she should give it away. She didn’t see how she could ever spend it: she couldn’t see how she would ever be able to choose a house that she loved enough to buy, or enough clothes and lipsticks to make the high pile of notes that she pictured in her mind flutter away to nothing. And now, because of Jimmy and her gift, she was making even more money. Fat gold coins collected in her purse after each weekend telling fortunes. People, it seemed, would pay anything to know their future.
‘Tell her I’ll see her after I’ve spoken to Jenny,’ Louisa said to Jimmy, trying to sound grateful.
Jenny was a regular, always wanting good news, and Louisa never had the heart to give her anything but. The problem with this was that the good stuff never happened. Jenny was getting impatient. Louisa was going to have to tell her. One day.
‘So, you know the tall husband you told me I would meet? I’ve still not found him,’ Jenny huffed as she sat down heavily opposite Louisa. ‘I met a nice man the other day and he wanted to take me out dancing. But he was short, so I told him I was already engaged. I had to pretend that I had dropped my engagement ring and lost it. So. Tell me when I’ll meet him. Or where. Then I can get on with my life with him.’
Louisa looked down at the table. She fiddled with her bracelet. She did everything that makes it obvious that you’re about to tell a lie. But then, at the last minute, the truth fell from her lips without warning.
‘Jenny, there’s something I need to tell you. When I said you’d marry a tall man, I really did believe it. But I think my reading must have been a little off. Because ever since then, I have seen something different for you.’
Jenny clutched at Louisa’s arms so tightly Louisa’s skin burned. ‘Like what?’
‘Well. I don’t see a tall husband after all. I’m so, so sorry.’
‘So it’s the short man I’m meant to marry? Should I try to find the short man?’
Louisa looked up into Jenny’s eyes. They were hazel and rounder than most people’s, giving her the look of a child, or a doll. How could Louisa tell a child, or a doll, that she wouldn’t live happily ever after? That all she saw was an empty, tidy house, with no husband and no children and no noise?
She peeled Jenny’s fingers from her arms and smoothed out the wrinkles from her peach cardigan sleeves.
‘Yes. Try to find the short man.’
Jenny’s anticipation deflated with a gigantic sigh. ‘Well! I must say, you frightened me a bit then. At least I’m going to have a husband.’ She stood up, and checked her immaculate hair with her fingertips. ‘You know, Pamela Fielding went and bought three cats the very day that you told her she wouldn’t marry. I told her not to, but she said you’ve been right about almost everything you’ve told everybody. She said there was no point wasting time with men if she was never going to find one who loved her. But that makes me think she wasn’t too bothered about a husband in the first place.’
Louisa nodded, remembering Pamela’s too-intense gaze, the way she had stroked Louisa’s arm for a little too long when saying her thank yous, her hair cut like a boy’s.
‘No, I don’t think she was bothered about a husband at all.’
‘Anyway. It’s time for your next, I think,’ Jenny said, smiling politely at the woman who had moved from the bar to Louisa’s usual table.
The woman offered her hand. ‘I’m Judy,’ she announced aggressively. ‘I want to know if I’m going to have any children.’
Louisa took Judy’s hands. They were cold, even though it was summer, and Louisa could feel her bones through her papery skin.
She closed her eyes and waited, her spine rigid with nerves. She hated this bit. Hardly ever, but sometimes, Louisa couldn’t see anything of the future. That was when she had to make something up. The last time she hadn’t been able to see anything was when she was sitting with Pamela Fielding. That was quite an easy one to fumble through and come out unscathed. But Judy was different.
Suddenly, Louisa’s body relaxed, and in her mind she saw Judy cooing over a baby with a pink toy rabbit in her cot. She was about to open her eyes and speak when she felt Judy’s hands twitching under hers. She realised that she hadn’t seen everything yet. There was more. This time there was a sound too. A dull, fast thud thud thud. The image was a flicker in warm red water.
‘You’re pregnant!’ Louisa blurted out, her eyes flying open.
Judy smiled, but remained poised.
‘Did you already know?’ Louisa asked.
‘I did. I just wanted to see if you would pick it up. And you did. So congratulations.’ Judy’s words were pleasant, but her voice was cool and tight.
Louisa sat back. She’d had people testing her before. And she’d always proved the skeptics wrong. She never normally minded when people questioned her. But today, s
he felt tired of proving herself.
‘I’m glad you weren’t disappointed with the service,’ she answered Judy in an overly formal tone.
‘My friends spend a small fortune on you. They act like you’re some kind of royalty. I can’t see the fascination, myself,’ Judy said, reaching into her handbag for her glasses case. She snapped it open with her cold fingers and placed her glasses on the bridge of her pointed nose.
‘Is something wrong?’ Jimmy said as he collapsed onto the chair next to Louisa. Jimmy never just sat down quietly. He always collapsed, making a thud and a puff of Jimmy-scented air.
‘No. Everything’s fine,’ Louisa said quietly, suddenly wanting to cry.
‘I was playing a little game. You know,’ Judy said, eyeing Louisa sternly, ‘if you’re going to make a business out of this, then you should be able to handle a little challenge now and again. It’s human nature to suspect. People are always ready to find a fraud. I had quite a few people asking me to find out if you were for real.’
Jimmy frowned at Judy. ‘She’s not a fraud, if that’s what you think. And even if you do think that, stay away. Leave us alone.’
Us, Louisa thought. Such a small word that said so much.
Later, after Judy had shrugged her haughty shoulders and left without paying, and after Louisa had eaten a portion of hot, salty chips on the promenade, she let Jimmy kiss her.
‘What about Penny?’ she asked, when Jimmy pulled away and carried on eating his chips.
‘Penny’s over with.’
So this was it, Louisa realised. She knew it had been coming. She knew that she would end up being Jimmy’s girlfriend at some point soon. It had been like knowing which train she was going to board, but having no idea when it would come. Now it was here, she climbed aboard and took her seat, quite glad to be out of the rain.
Chapter Fifteen
Louisa, 1971
‘Pass me that bottle, would you Lou?’ Mags yelled over her baby’s wailing. She flipped his little body over expertly so that he was suddenly nuzzled against her shoulder.
‘Milk’s coming, milk’s coming, baby boy,’ she sang. Noel was satisfied by his mother’s rocking for a brief moment and his howls subsided, before suddenly rising again, his little scarlet fists clenched tightly against Mags’s shoulder. Louisa watched as Mags lowered Noel carefully to feed him. His mouth clenched greedily around the teat and his tight little body slackened into rhythmic sucking.
‘So,’ Mags said, her eyes wide like they used to be when she told Louisa the latest piece of gossip. Louisa waited and sipped from her glass of water. There was a cloud of something on the rim and she wiped it away with her finger before looking up at Mags expectantly.
‘My milk still hasn’t stopped dribbling out of me. It’s disgusting.’
That’s it? Louisa thought, then immediately felt guilty.
‘Oh,’ she managed. She gazed at Noel. His eyes were half closed in a milk delirium and his little fists had unclenched.
‘Daddy home soon,’ Mags sang next, her voice cracking a little under the strain of the high notes.
‘I’ll get going then,’ Louisa said, downing most of her water but leaving the last inch in the bottom of the glass.
‘Oh no, please don’t. Charles will be going straight out again as soon as he’s home. And I can’t put Noel down for more than a few minutes. I was wondering actually, if you’d stay and sit with him while I had a bath?’
Louisa thought of her flat in the centre of Blackpool. She didn’t have a bathtub. But if she did, she’d be able to sit in it all day long without anybody to answer to.
‘Of course I will. I’ll put the kettle on, shall I?’
Mags sighed mournfully. ‘I suppose. So you don’t think I should have a glass of wine? I haven’t had much since Noel was born. I’m scared I’ll drop him or something. But really Lou, I’m gagging for a real drink. What do you think?’
Louisa shrugged. ‘I don’t see it doing any harm. I’m here too. I’ll pour us one, shall I?’
Mags looked down at Noel and stroked his temple with her free hand.
‘Oh, I don’t know. I suppose Charles would see us drinking when he got home if we did that. He’d go mad. He hates me drinking when Noel’s awake.’ She raised her eyes again, the old twinkle back in them for a split second. ‘We’ll wait until he’s gone out. You’re so lucky having Jimmy, you know. He would never tell you off about things like that. In fact, he’d never tell you off.’ Mags sat Noel on her knee and rubbed his floppy, rounded back ferociously.
‘No, I don’t suppose he would.’
Jimmy. Jimmy, with his scratchy beard and long thin limbs and rolled up cigarettes and green anorak. With his ex-girlfriend Penny, who just wouldn’t go away. Mags was right: Jimmy wouldn’t ever tell Louisa off, but she doubted she’d be too bothered if he did. Louisa had been planning to tell Mags that she’d been having doubts about Jimmy for a couple of months now, but every time she decided to get it out in the open that things weren’t right between them, Jimmy did something sweet and changed Louisa’s mind. One night when Louisa had been getting ready to go to Mags’s house, mulling over what she would tell her about how much Jimmy irritated her, he had appeared in her bedroom and given Louisa a hug and told her that he would love her forever. Louisa had swallowed her lump of guilt and kept quiet all evening at Mags’s, listening instead to all sorts of problems and worries relating to Mags’s imminent labour. A few weeks passed, and Jimmy’s sweetness turned sour and grating again, and Louisa had decided that she definitely did want Mags’s advice. But by then, of course, Noel had arrived, and proper conversations had become even more difficult.
‘Mags, I—’ Louisa began now.
‘Yippee!’ Mags interrupted. She looked up from Noel, a stringy trail of milky mucus dripping from his mouth onto his mother’s hand. ‘A burp,’ she announced triumphantly.
Charles came in, and went out again, and Mags disappeared upstairs into a cloud of bath salts and steam. Louisa sat herself on the stiff sofa, with Noel tucked into her chest. He stared up at her sternly.
‘Oh, your mummy’s having a bath,’ Louisa began to sing, but felt too self-conscious to continue. If it was her own baby, she was sure that she wouldn’t feel too self-conscious to sing, or to do anything. She wouldn’t want a bath, and she wouldn’t want a glass of wine, and she wouldn’t care whether Jimmy wanted to tell her off or not. She stroked Noel’s cheek, the peachy down on his skin velvety on her finger. He wriggled and grunted. Louisa stood, and had a sip of her wine.
‘Shall we bounce?’ she asked Noel. She bounced him against her shoulder carefully, imagining Mags upstairs in the bath. What was her friend’s body like now? Mags had never been really slim, but now she seemed much bigger, as though she was still pregnant. Her flesh wobbled whenever it was revealed: through a popped button or a short sleeve. Louisa wondered if that would happen to her if she had a baby. Would Jimmy still love her?
‘That’s a silly question,’ she whispered to Noel. ‘Because we all know that he doesn’t really love me now.’
Noel coughed at this and screwed his eyes up before suddenly bawling and drawing his knees up to his chest. Louisa rocked him and offered him more of the bottle of milk that stood next to her wine glass. He turned away, wailing, his face turning blood red with the effort.
‘Oooohhh, you’re a tired boy,’ Louisa said. ‘You’re a tired boy and you need to go to sleep. Go on.’ She fumbled on the table for his dummy, which immediately popped straight back out of his mouth. His anger swelled and he screeched inconsolably. Louisa stooped to retrieve the dummy and placed it back in his mouth, holding it down with her thumb. He sucked desperately, his eyes flickering with the promise of sleep. After a few more minutes, and a few more sips of wine for Louisa and what felt like a hundred more bounces and shushes for Noel, they lay curled up together on the sofa, the silence of exhaustion falling down around them.
It was the day after when Louisa saw the sign.
<
br /> It hadn’t been a pleasant walk. Louisa had walked with Mags and Noel every day since Mags had been home from hospital. Louisa took turns gently wheeling the navy Silver Cross that Charles had bought from his friend the night before Mags went into labour. Most of the walks had a pleasant feel to them, but today was one of those days that just didn’t seem to glide by nice and smoothly: it had a sharp, uncomfortable feel to it. First of all, Mags had forgotten her keys and so Louisa (because Louisa hadn’t given birth four weeks and two days ago) had been forced to climb over the fence and through the kitchen window to retrieve them. Louisa was wearing her pale green cardigan with the pearl buttons, and the arm had snagged on the rough wood of the fence. There was a loose thread now and a patch of angry wool right near her shoulder, which Louisa couldn’t stop touching and feeling upset about. Today, she thought, would be the day she had snagged her favourite green cardigan. Noel was angry today too and bawled from his pram with no sign of stopping.
Mags was the same. Mags was always the same. She chatted about a new dining table that Charles had promised her.
‘And before you start, I’m not turning into one of those women who talk about nothing but her home and what’s in it. I want a new dining table so we can have card games at mine instead of the pub. Now Noel’s here, our gatherings will have to be round at mine,’ she was shouting over Noel’s cries.
‘Do you think we ought to get him out of his pram?’ Louisa asked, wondering if Mags had managed to tune out the screams.
Mags shook her head. ‘No. He’ll go off to sleep soon.’
‘Perhaps he’s hungry,’ Louisa pointed out, niggled. She was never normally niggled by Mags. Jimmy: yes, but never Mags.
Mags sighed and plucked Noel out from a bundle of white wool. She patted him and his little head wobbled against her shoulder. ‘He was up six times in the night, you know,’ she told Louisa, as though Louisa had no idea.
‘Oh,’ said Louisa, for what else was there to say?
‘I think he would have gone to sleep in his pram. I shouldn’t have got him out, but—’
