by Gwyneth Rees
Holly waited for us to catch her up, though she barely even looked at Nevada when we did. ‘I just saw Jake,’ she informed me. ‘He says your dad’s taken Matty to see the doctor. I was really worried about him after what you told me last night.’
‘Is there something wrong with him then?’ Nevada asked.
‘It’s a secret,’ Holly replied quickly. ‘Isn’t it, Esmie?’
Nevada was scowling, and I thought she might be about to stalk off again, so I said quickly, ‘Yes – we’ll tell you if you promise not to tell anyone else.’
‘Of course I won’t,’ Nevada said.
So I told her what my brother and Jake had done to the school sign and how Matty had got injured in the process.
‘Wow!’ Nevada was clearly impressed.
Holly was glaring at me as if I’d just told the whole school instead of only Nevada, so I decided now was a good time to change the subject. ‘Jake says that one of his other mates is taking Jennifer out on a date,’ I said. ‘It’s that guy called Ian. You know, Holly, the one who Matty got into a fight with last year when Ian was trying to get Jake and Matty to steal stuff.’
‘Who’s Jennifer?’ Nevada asked.
And before Holly could tell her that that was a secret too, I launched into the whole story of my brother’s doomed love life and how I’d been trying to think of a way to get him and Jennifer back together because my brother was so miserable without her.
‘That’s going to be impossible now that Jennifer’s found someone else,’ Holly declared in an I-told-you-so sort of voice.
‘I know,’ I agreed gloomily.
‘Not necessarily,’ Nevada said. ‘I mean you could always get Matthew to date someone else too and make sure Jennifer finds out about it.’
‘Make her jealous you mean?’ Holly sounded scornful. ‘It won’t work. Jennifer isn’t interested in Matthew any more and that’s that.’
‘Yes, but she might change her mind if she sees him dating a girl who’s even more gorgeous than she is,’ Nevada pointed out.
‘Like who?’ I asked. ‘Jennifer is pretty attractive, you know.’
‘So’s my sister.’
‘Your sister?’
‘Sure. Carys was in the driveway the other day when your brother was coming home from school. She said she thought he looked really hot.’
‘Hot?’ I was astounded. Some girls ought to have their eyes tested if you ask me.
Nevada nodded. ‘That’s what she said.’
‘You’d better leave it, Esmie,’ Holly warned me. ‘Your dad told you he didn’t want you interfering in other people’s love lives any more, remember?’
‘Yeah – but he meant his love life, not Matty’s,’ I replied. ‘And if I hadn’t interfered in Dad’s, then he and Lizzie would never have met, would they?’ (Dad and Lizzie met through a Lonely Hearts advert that I placed with the help of the French au pair we had last year – but that’s a whole different story.) ‘Anyway I know the real reason you’re telling me to leave it, Holly,’ I continued. ‘Holly fancies Matthew herself,’ I explained to Nevada. ‘Goodness knows why!’
Unfortunately Holly reacted like I’d just given away her dearest, for-best-friends’-ears-only personal secret. ‘I hate you, Esmie!’ she burst out.
And she stomped away in a complete strop, like I had totally betrayed her.
I was horrified, and I was about to rush after her and tell her I was sorry, when Nevada put her hand on my arm. ‘Do you want to come round to mine after school and I’ll show you some psychic stuff?’ she asked.
I immediately stopped thinking about Holly.
‘I can read your tea leaves for you if you like,’ she added.
I was intrigued. ‘Can tea leaves really tell you things about the future?’
‘Of course – if you know how to read them properly.’
‘And is it just tea leaves that you do?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Well, you said before that psychics can get messages from the spirit world, so I was just wondering . . .’ I trailed off, feeling self-conscious.
‘Were you wondering about contacting your mum?’
‘Well . . .’ I felt myself flushing. ‘It’s just that since she’s dead, I thought . . .’ I broke off nervously. What I was too embarrassed to say was that sometimes when I was younger, I used to think my mother was sending me messages . . . well, not really messages . . . more like loving vibes or something . . . from up in heaven. And I used to think I could feel her presence when I looked at her photograph.
‘Tell you what.’ Nevada was smiling at me encouragingly. ‘Why don’t I come round to your place after school? Then I might get some kind of sense of your mum, if you know what I mean. There must still be some stuff in your house that belonged to her, isn’t there?’
‘Oh yes,’ I said. And I immediately remembered the jewellery box.
After school Nevada went back to her house to dump her stuff and to tell her aunt she was coming round to mine, and while I was waiting for her I rushed upstairs to fetch my mother’s jewellery box. I was excited because I had never met anyone before who believed that dead people could contact you from the spirit world. Dad doesn’t believe in spirits or ghosts, or even in heaven, and he thinks it’s enough that people who die live on in the memories of others. But then he can remember my mother, so it’s all right for him.
As I passed my brother’s room he opened the door as if he was about to come out, then closed it again abruptly when he saw me. He looked really unhappy and I figured Jake must have told him about Jennifer going out with Ian.
‘Did the doctor get that splinter out OK?’ I called out to him. ‘Did you need any stitches?’
‘Go away, Esmie!’ he grunted, and I guessed he wouldn’t be coming out of his room again until I was gone.
I took the jewellery box downstairs thinking I could show it to Nevada while we were drinking our tea. (I assumed you actually had to drink your tea before the tea leaves in the bottom could be read.) I remembered how Holly and I had once tried to read our tea leaves after we’d seen an article about it in one of her mum’s magazines. We’d ended up giggling hysterically rather than taking it seriously, and the more I thought about the fun we’d had that time, the worse I felt about falling out with Holly.
Since I still had a few minutes before Nevada arrived, I decided to phone Holly and try and make things up with her, but when I picked up the phone in the living room I found that my brother was already dialling out a number on the upstairs extension.
I guessed he must be phoning Jake, so I got ready to listen in to their conversation. I felt a little bit guilty, but not much. After all, if I was a proper detective I’d be able to get the phone tapped any time I wanted, wouldn’t I? (Unless you have to be in MI5 or the FBI or something to do that.)
The phone on the other end of the line stopped ringing out and a man’s voice said, ‘Hello?’
‘Mr Mitchell, it’s Matthew,’ my brother said in a nervous voice. ‘Can I speak to Jennifer please?’
And that’s when I realized he wasn’t phoning Jake at all. Since Jennifer hadn’t been answering her mobile, he had obviously decided to try her landline instead.
‘Jennifer doesn’t want to speak to you, Matthew,’ her father replied briskly. ‘I really don’t think there’s much point in you phoning her again.’
I waited until Matthew had ended the call, then I went upstairs to meet him as he emerged from Dad’s bedroom (which is where the second phone is). A tear was running down his face, which he quickly brushed away when he saw me.
‘Oh, Matty, don’t cry!’ I blurted out.
‘I’m not crying,’ he growled.
I really wanted to comfort him but I couldn’t think how, until I suddenly remembered some wise words I’d heard on EastEnders recently. They had been uttered by one of the ladies who runs the launderette to one of the other characters after her boyfriend had stolen all her money, poisoned her pet dog and run aw
ay to Spain.
‘Time is a great healer,’ I told Matthew in my wisest voice.
‘Oh, shut it, Esmie!’ Matty snarled, disappearing into his bedroom and slamming the door.
I sighed, not knowing what else to do.
Just then Hercule came sauntering out of my room, where I guessed he’d been curled up on my bed. I sat down on the floor and stroked him.
‘Matty, I’m going to send Hercule in to see you!’ I called out to my brother, because whenever I’m feeling upset about anything I always find having Hercule around really helps. Since my brother didn’t reply, I opened his door and gently pushed Hercule through the gap into his room. Hopefully Hercule would go and curl up against Matthew and purr at him and rub his head against him – which is Hercule’s way of telling us that he loves us no matter what.
When Nevada arrived, she was holding a small book in her hand called Tea-Leaf Images and How to Read Them.
‘Great!’ I said, as she showed me. But there was something else I wanted to ask her. ‘Nevada, you know what you said earlier – about making Jennifer jealous so she’ll want to get back with Matthew . . . ?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Well I really think we should do it.’ I told her about Matty’s phone conversation, and how upset he was.
‘OK then,’ Nevada said. ‘You tell Matthew that my big sister really fancies him and wants to go out on a date with him. If he agrees, we’ll make sure we get a photo of them together, and then you can show it to Jennifer.’
‘What if Matty doesn’t want to go out with your sister?’ I asked.
‘Have you seen my sister? She always has loads of boys after her.’
‘Then why would she want to go out with my brother?’
‘Your brother’s pretty nice.’
‘No he’s not!’
She laughed. ‘Trust me, OK? Look, you wait here and I’ll go and get a photo of Carys for you to show him. Oh, and make yourself a cup of tea. You should use a cup that’s plain white inside.’
As soon as she left I put the kettle on, and I was waiting for it to boil when Jake arrived on his bicycle. ‘So how’s the broken-hearted one doing, Esmie?’ he asked me as I opened the front door to him.
‘He’s really upset, Jake,’ I said.
As we spoke, Nevada’s uncle’s car was pulling into the driveway across the road and Jake turned to look at it. ‘Is that the guy who was complaining about Hercule this morning?’
‘Yes. I don’t think he likes cats very much.’
Jake went upstairs to my brother’s room and I went back into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. We didn’t have any loose tea leaves so I had to rip open a tea bag, which I hoped would still have the same effect.
I was just wondering if it was OK to put milk in my tea or not when Nevada arrived back with her sister’s photograph. She was right – Carys was stunning. She had a really pretty face and her hair was long and dark like Nevada’s, only it looked a lot silkier somehow. She had big dark eyes with long eyelashes and she had a really nice figure too. I couldn’t imagine my brother not liking her.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ I told Nevada. ‘Jennifer does a late shift in Burger King every Saturday. If we can get Matthew to take Carys there, Jennifer will actually see them together and we won’t have to bother taking a photograph.’
‘Great!’ Nevada said. ‘I know Carys’ll be up for that – she loves burgers. Of course we won’t tell her his ex-girlfriend works there.’
‘I’ll show Matthew her photo tonight,’ I said. ‘Now . . . what about the tea leaves? Oh – and I’ve got something to show you of my mother’s.’ I went through to the living room where I had left the jewellery box. ‘This belonged to my mother when she was my age,’ I said, coming back into the kitchen and putting it down on the table in front of Nevada. Do you think you might be able to get what you need from it . . . you know . . . the vibes or whatever . . . ?’
Nevada was staring intently at the box, and for a moment I thought she must be getting psychic vibes off it already. ‘I’ll need to have it near me for a while and then I’ll be able to tell for sure,’ she said. She pointed to the cup of tea I had made (in which quite a few tea leaves were visibly floating). ‘Start drinking it – but don’t rush.’
‘Is it all right that I made it with a tea bag?’ I asked. ‘We don’t have any loose tea.’
‘Loose tea is better,’ Nevada said. ‘But don’t worry – it will still work.’
I slowly drank my tea, swallowing quite a few tea leaves in the process, as Nevada continued to gaze at the jewellery box as if it was a person whose thoughts she was trying to read.
‘Stop when you’ve got about a teaspoon of liquid left,’ she instructed.
‘Is this OK?’ I asked when I had almost reached the bottom.
‘Yes. Now, are you left- or right-handed?’
‘Right.’
‘OK, so hold the cup in your left hand and move it round in a circle three times. It has to be in an anticlockwise direction. That’s it. Now, while you’re doing that, concentrate on a question you want the answer to.’
‘What sort of question?’ I asked.
‘Anything. Something you want to know about the future maybe.’
I thought about it for a few moments. Then I closed my eyes and silently I asked, Am I going to get to speak to my mother? Of course I knew my mother was dead, but if there was a spirit world like Nevada said . . .
Nevada told me to turn my cup over on to the saucer and let the tea dregs drain away. ‘Now you have to leave it like that for a few minutes. In fact I reckon it’s best if you spend some time alone with the cup. Why don’t you go into another room and shut the door? I’ll come and get you when it’s time.’
So I took the cup – now upside down on its saucer – out of the kitchen and into the living room.
‘Keep thinking about your question,’ Nevada called out to me.
So I did, and I was still thinking about it when I heard Matthew and Jake thudding down the stairs. I heard them open the front door and Matthew shouted out – presumably to me – that they’d only be gone for ten minutes. And I sighed with relief because he sounded like he was back to his normal self again.
It felt like ages later when Nevada finally came to get me. She took me back into the kitchen, looking very serious as she instructed me to hold the cup upright again, in my right hand this time.
‘Now we can start,’ she said, taking hold of my wrist and manoeuvring it so she could look inside the cup herself, peering at it from every angle. Most of the tea leaves had settled into a dense brown sludge on the bottom, but some had also stuck to the side when I had tipped it up. ‘See how they thin out towards the rim,’ she said. ‘I think I’m beginning to see a figure there. Look.’
‘I can’t see anything,’ I said.
‘The thinner bit is the face,’ she went on. ‘That’s the eye, that’s the nose, that’s a moustache and that’s the chin. Can you see?’
And the weird thing was that as she pointed out the individual bits I did start to see what she meant. Pretty soon, if I looked at the sludge of wet tea leaves in a certain way, I could see the outline of a face too.
‘The thick bit at the bottom, where they’re all stuck together, is the body,’ she said. ‘It’s the same size as the head, so you know what that means.’
‘What?’ I asked, fascinated.
‘A short body compared with the head means it’s a dwarf.’
‘A dwarf?’ I giggled.
Nevada remained serious. She started to leaf through the book she had brought with her until she got to the ‘D’ section. ‘Dwarf,’ she read out loud. ‘A friend in whom you trusted will prove false.’ She looked up at me. ‘That’s what it means. Look.’ She handed the book to me so that I could read it for myself. I had stopped laughing now.
‘Who?’ I murmured.
Nevada didn’t say anything. She was staring again at the jewellery box.
‘What is it?’ I
asked.
‘Nothing. I just feel . . . I feel . . .’ She slowly put out her hand and cautiously touched the lid as if she was afraid it might give her an electric shock. ‘Esmie, I’m getting this really weird feeling.’ She turned her head to look me straight in the eyes. ‘Was your mother called Claire?’
I nodded. ‘Yes. How do you know?’ I hadn’t told her my mother’s name and I was almost certain there was nothing visible in our kitchen that could have told her either.
‘The name Claire just came into my head,’ she said solemnly.
And I felt a shiver run down the back of my neck as I looked from her to the box, and back again in disbelief.
Jake and Matthew returned just as Nevada was leaving, and they seemed pretty high about something. It was dark and cold outside now and I couldn’t think where they’d gone in order to be back in such a short time. I really wanted to tell somebody – even my brother – what had just happened, but Nevada had made me promise not to tell anyone or she said she’d have to stop helping me. I still couldn’t quite believe that Nevada really was psychic, but how else could she have known my mother’s name?
As I sat in the kitchen staring at the jewellery box in a kind of daze, my brother and Jake came in to fix themselves some hot drinks. Jake walked across the kitchen to switch on the radio, fiddling with it until he found some music he liked, which he then turned up extra loud.
The plastic clothes-basket was sitting on the floor by the washing machine and it was full of dry washing waiting to be ironed, some of which was Lizzie’s. Jake spotted a pair of pink, lacy knickers and grinned as he held them up to show Matty.
‘You’d better put those back,’ I said as Jake pulled out a matching camisole top.
‘Do you think it suits me?’ Jake said, holding Lizzie’s camisole against him and wiggling about to the music. He danced over and put the knickers on Matty’s head, and my brother left them there, laughing loudly and wolf-whistling at Jake.
‘Matty, you’d better stop it,’ I warned him. ‘Dad’s—’
