Suddenly Psychic

by Melanie Baxter

  "Oh dear, I haven't got a red.” Harvey had declared before we'd both bolted for the Pig ‘n Whistle pub and swore to each other over several drinks never to take up anything remotely artistic again.

  I was working on it though, making him mine, I mean. It was delicate turning a friendship into something for keeps, and I couldn't be sure exactly how Harvey felt. After I'd put the phone down, I looked at my watch and decided to go into Bobby's Cleaning and collect my final pay cheque. Clean them out, so to speak.

  Not even the drizzle could dampen my spirits as the bus spat me out at Surbiton station, the dog-eared corner of London that had been my workplace for the past two months. I took the stairs two at a time up to the fourth floor of the shabby office block that was home to Bobby's nerve center, a mixture of tension and excitement rippling through me. Was I actually going to go through with this? Was I really going to throw away my sales job for a career as a fake psychic? Perhaps Mum was right. My jaw tightened as I approached the glass-paned office door. She always said I was too spontaneous for my own good. Still, I'd made my decision and the odd niggling doubt wasn't going to sway me now.

  It was all I could do to stop gagging as the Director ushered me into his overheated office. The reek of body odor, booze breath, and rotting apple cores was particularly powerful that morning. Bobby Simms, or ‘Mr. Blobby’ as we liked to call him, sat down heavily in his fake leather chair, making the air whoosh out of the cushion. His florid, jowl heavy face coupled with a sloshing great beer belly made his sales pitch far from irresistible. I declined his offer to sit, deciding to make it quick.

  "Sorry, Bob, but it's for personal reasons. I have to leave today I'm afraid. I just came in to collect my bonus and final pay for last week."

  The sound of typing from outside his office had stopped. No doubt the office motormouth, and Blobby's personal assistant, Linda, was straining to hear our conversation. She was such a gossip and trouble stirrer.

  "You can't leave now.” Blobby banged his tubby fists on the desk, making the swirly, glass paperweight jump. “We're just about to make you field manager. This is our busiest time and I want the figures to look good."

  When I let the silence stretch, he sighed and clasped his hands over his belly like an absurd Buddha, a trickle of sweat running down his cheek.

  "I'll tell you what, as it's you,” he winked a piggy eye at me, “take a few days to sort out your ... erm ... personal business and then come back to us."

  I shook my head. “Sorry, Bob. Have to leave today. It's not something that can be sorted out, I'm afraid. Can I have my cheque please?"

  "Not up the duff, are you?” He jerked his head at my stomach. “Nah, of course you aren't. Sensible girl like you. Look, please, Amber, sit down, let's talk it over..."

  "Nothing to talk about, Bob. I've got over fifty commercial leads I need to write up in my file from my calls last week. You give me a cheque, and I'll update my file and be on my way."

  That got him. He looked at me, chewing on his bottom lip for a second or two before sighing in defeat. “I can pay cash if you'd prefer.” He opened his desk drawer.

  When we came out of the office, I shook his sweaty hand before sorting my file of leads for the next person. As I left, Linda, heavily made up as always, stood up and caught my arm, her candy pink lips stretched in a smile.

  "Fancy popping out for a quick cuppa, Amber? I'm due a break and it'd be nice to have a chat before you leave."

  It was the first time she'd ever shown an interest in socializing but I didn't want to rude. I smiled. “Why not?"

  She grabbed her coat and bag as quickly as a ferret, prattling on about office scandal as she bustled me across the road to a grotty café on the corner of the litter-strewn street. Sipping steaming tea from chipped mugs under fluorescent lights, Linda's eyes glinted as she asked me why I was leaving.

  "Are you pregnant then? I couldn't help overhearing Bob mention your personal business, who's the father? I don't suppose you'll be able to keep the baby will you, not on your wages. Well come on, tell me then.” It was clear she would draw her own conclusions and spread it around if I didn't tell her something.

  I took a deep breath and decided there was only one thing to do. “I have to know this won't go any further, Linda."

  She nodded eagerly, blinking rapidly with her mascara caked eyelashes.

  "I just ... never believed this sort of thing was possible. I mean its soooo weird. You're probably going to think I'm crazy, but the most amazing thing has happened to me."

  "What?” She was practically drooling for the details.

  "I ... I really shouldn't tell you, but I've discovered I've got ... this kind of ‘gift'."

  She narrowed her eyes. “What sort of gift?"

  "I suppose some might call it a sort of ‘second sight’ but, to be honest, I don't know what it is. Tell you what though, it's totally freaking me out that I can predict things.” I gave an exaggerated sigh.

  "You're having me on, right?"

  I shook my head. “I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. It just happened and I can't explain it. I see things."

  "No!” The crease between her plucked eyebrows deepened, her eyes never leaving my face.

  "Look, I'm gonna have to go, Linda, I need to go home, get my head straight. It was nice to chat..."

  "Wait.” She grabbed my arm as I started to get up. “Is that why you're leaving Bobby's, because of this ... this gift?"

  "Kind of.” I glanced around and lowered my voice; I'd started the façade now so I had to keep going. “See, I've had a vision that Bobby's is going to go broke.” Her eyes widened and she leaned closer to catch what I was saying. “Blobby is going to have some serious health problems, and I've seen something for you too,” I paused dramatically and she swallowed. “I can see things changing for you career wise. I see you working with a woman."

  "But that's impossible; we've making more money than ever at Bobby's.” Linda leapt up, splashing her tea over the chequered tablecloth.

  "Just call it a hunch then.” I shrugged and slipped on my suede jacket. “Look, been nice talking to you. Don't worry; things will work out well for you. Good luck and all that. You know my number if you want to talk."

  I left, waving to her pale, troubled face through the smeared window before hurrying to catch the 221 to Sunbury on Thames.

  Well, that was certainly a piece of gossip Linda hadn't been expecting. I tried to suppress the flicker of guilt after taking advantage of her fickle personality. Still, once my so called prediction came true, she'd be the perfect mouthpiece for my business, and by that time I'd be well geared up to deliver my psychic sermons. There was nothing remotely mystical about what I'd done. I'd seen the betting slips in Blobby's desk drawer and could tell from the growing stench of his booze breath that he was under a lot of stress. He was definitely heading for a crash both financially and medically. The previous week, I'd also overheard him talking to our competitor on his mobile. It didn't take a genius to guess he was planning to sell out. Our competitor was run by a woman, so chances were Linda would be working for her.

  With the first seed sown, the burden of convention lifted from my shoulders and was replaced by a tingling excitement. I was about to embark on a career with a difference. Knowing that my family would disapprove made it even more enticing. Of course, I was a little worried about whether I would get enough clients to pay the rent, but I had the bonus money from Bobby's as a buffer. How hard could it be?

  On my way home, I popped into the local mystic shop, The Rowan Tree, and discovered there were all sorts of Tarot cards I could choose: Egyptian, Pagan, New Age, and Angel. I chose ‘Greek Mythology’ because I liked the illustrations. It looked quite easy to do, so I thought I'd try to do a bit of cramming before Harvey came round. I could test my powers on him. That was, perhaps, my first fatal mistake.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Three

  Playing the Tarot

  Once I
had skimmed the instructions, I sprang into action, all fingers and thumbs as I shuffled the colourful cards. I laid them out on my sheepskin rug, in between pushing away Pudding who kept trying to park his bottom on them. After a few trial readings, and distracting Pudding with some biscuits, I noticed the tarot cards seemed to have a habit of coming up with appropriate answers. Bit spooky really.

  The secret to reading the Tarot is surprisingly simple. There are four main suits namely: wands for challenge, cups for relationships, swords which mean action or conflict, and pentacles for money. There's a bit more to it than that, but I got the knack pretty quick. I mean, I'm used to improvising and my Harvey always says I have a way with words. So there I was laying the cards in a Celtic cross arrangement according to the instructions as if I'd been doing it all my life.

  Just as I'd read in the cards that there was someone moving into my orbit the doorbell rang. I was getting good. I smiled and buzzed up Harvey to my apartment, quickly stacking the cards into a deck again and putting them on the side table before pulling open the heavy fire door.

  "Hi gorgeous, I bought us some Shiraz to toast the rise of your new career and the downfall of mine.” Harvey's tall, lean frame filled the doorway, his rain spattered glasses and ruffled dark hair only adding to his 100% cute factor as he waved the bottle aloft.

  I was never sure whether it was his generous lips, the dimple on his left cheek, or his intense green eyes that sparked off that sharp stab of longing in me each time I saw him. I wondered, as I had so many times before, if he felt the same. He glanced at my low cut, black top before he leaned down to peck me on the cheek. Good omen, but, as usual, he backed off just when I thought I'd got him hooked.

  "I really need your advice tonight, Amber. Got women trouble at the office.” He sighed, shrugged off his trench coat, and grinned his lopsided smile.

  It was all I could do not to pounce on him there and then, but I knew I had to play my cards right if I wanted more than a fling so I arranged my face into a semblance of sisterly sympathy.

  "You poor love. I won't have those horrid office sirens getting my Harvey down.” I linked my arm through his and led him to my tiny kitchen. I rummaged in a drawer for a corkscrew before reaching up for a couple of wine glasses, hoping my butt-hugging jeans had the desired affect.

  "Now, let's discuss your emotional strategy over a glass of wine, and if we don't come up with the answers, we'll ask the tarot.” I beamed at him, determined to test my new found powers while stirring up some passion of my own.

  Harvey laughed as he uncorked the wine. “I think it'll take more than some hocus-pocus to fix the politics in House of Innovation. I've been there long enough now to realize if you're not playing the game, you're fair game, and Sonya, well, she's conquering the office faster than I can make prototypes. Her ridiculous ideas are actually being taken seriously."

  "Not Sunbed Sonya?” Harvey's grimace confirmed it was indeed the infamous, orange-skinned femme fatale he referred to. “Oh, come on. You're clever enough to play the game better than her, or any of them. I mean, you're the man who made ‘ache-away’ and the heated toilet seat, aren't you?” I lifted my glass to toast some of his more triumphant inventions as head of the research and development at the gadgetry hothouse.

  "Trash and trivia. Honestly, I feel like the human race deserves better than the crap we come out with, but at least it's better than the stuff Sonya's suggesting we produce."

  "Like what?"

  "Well, after her limited success with the motorized pram, she's brought out a whole range of baby gadgets. The ‘stiletto silencer', is the jewel in her tiara..."

  "The what?” I almost spat out my wine as I imagined women placing tiny cloth circles on their heels “But that's the point of high heels, so people hear you coming and look at you."

  "Try telling Sonya that. She thinks it would be useful for Mums who have wooden floorboards in their house.” Harvey sighed as we moved through to the lounge. “Luckily I've managed to divert her idea into something a little more useful.” He sat on my retro stripped sofa and smiled. “It's a bit ‘James Bondish’ but it might just come off."

  "Like that woman that had a knife flip out of her shoe?” I kicked my foot at him and he chuckled.

  "Not quite, but I like your thinking. The concept is ‘Hi-lows'—you know, shoes that have a retractable heel.” I tried to picture the convertible shoe in my mind as he went on. “And the tag line is ... wait for it: How tall do you want to be today?"

  "Harvey that's brilliant,” I slapped my knee. “I mean, I simply have to have a prototype."

  "It's hardly brilliant, but I think it's more marketable than Sonia's silencers."

  We sat on my sofa and chatted some more about office politics and how Harvey could come up with such dazzling new ideas that Sonya would be permanently put in the shade. I loved hearing about Harvey's job. He was always telling me about the most surprising gadgets that were selling. Being a super brain, he'd won awards for his ‘ache-away,’ a tiny electro magnet placed on the temple that could prevent a migraine attack. I even owned one of his heated toilet seats that had delighted women worldwide.

  "Okay, now that we've decided I should be more political, let's discuss your rather dubious new career move.” Harvey drew his eyebrows together in a very sexy but disapproving frown.

  I tried to ignore the familiar tightening in the pit of my stomach. “D'you mind if I try it on you?"

  He shrugged as I grabbed the half empty bottle from the table behind me and refilled his glass before handing him the cards and ordering him to shuffle them. Five minutes later, we were sitting cross-legged on the sheepskin rug, and I was turning up some very interesting cards in his spread.

  "Someone at your work is not to be trusted.” I tapped the nine of swords that lay over his card. “Not only that, but there's going to be some conflict with this person and it could turn nasty."

  "Sunbed Sonya I suppose,” Harvey said dolefully.

  "No, I feel this is higher up.” I turned over the ten of wands. “Ah, this is good. You'll be inspired to come up with a fantastic new idea that will lead to mastery of the situation, and the two of swords in this position means there'll be a truce called between you and the person causing conflict."

  "Well I never.” Harvey raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

  I decided his reading needed spicing up and started improvising. I began turning up more cards and telling him he would be changing his vehicle to a red sports car, take up a new hobby, his sister would win some money, and an Aunt would fall ill and lose her battle for life. Well, I had to make out the cards were telling me something new, didn't I? Then I decided to turn things to my own advantage and tapped the queen of cups.

  "Hmm, a charming lady is going to bring you emotional happiness too.” My stomach tightened and my cheeks flushed slightly as I tried to tease out his feelings, not daring to look at him as I turned up the final card. There it was. The two of cups. It couldn't have been better if I'd planned it myself. I needed to choose the words carefully here though.

  "Looks like someone's gonna get very lucky in love.” I nudged him.

  "About time too.” He grunted.

  "No, really, this is seriously good. This card means that in the end, you'll basically get what you want, but it may come about in an unexpected way.” I added a little more embroidery. “You may not be looking in the right place for a relationship, but someone's gonna come along soon and kaboom! It's going to be the real thing Harv.” His eyes on me made me suddenly feel exposed. “So I better get an invite to the wedding.” I deflected quickly. “There, finished.” I began to scoop up the cards.

  "Hey, wait a minute, can't the cards be more specific? What does she look like? Does she shave properly?"

  I quirked my eyebrow at him.

  "Always a worry for a guy when he goes out with a girl. I once made a terrible mistake with a girl who grew dreadlocks under her arms. Come on, Amber, I thought you were an expert at this.
"

  Harvey put his hand over mine as I collected the cards and the hairs on the back of my arms prickled. I looked into his eyes for a long moment. Had I made it too obvious? I couldn't look away.

  "Are you making fun of me, Harvey Williams?” I did my best to stop the tremble in my hand and ignore the dimple on his left cheek that always appeared when he smiled.

  "Me? Make fun of the occult. That's much too dangerous isn't it?"

  He leaned so close I could smell his aftershave and the wine on his breath. He was still looking into my eyes. I moistened my lips with anticipation. This is it I thought, he's going to kiss me.

  "The ghost of my Auntie Lucy might come and bite me on the bum,” he said, tweaking my nose. He leaned past me to grab the bottle of wine. I swallowed a sigh as he went on. “Look, I still reckon this psychic malarkey of yours is fated for failure, but if you're serious, let's put some business sense into it. Knowing the stuff people buy from us, I don't doubt that there's plenty of suckers out there willing to pay for quality claptrap."

  "Claptrap? You unbeliever you, just you wait and see if my predictions don't come true."

  I swatted his leg and we laughed and talked through the rest of the wine about his work colleagues and about the new props I would need to start myself up. Harvey was explaining to me how to set up a paying phone line when Pudding flumped down from the couch, stretched hugely, and decided to use Harvey's leg as a scratching post.

  "Oi puss. You may be her familiar but you ain't mine. Off."

  Pudding ignored him.

  "Oh yes,” I snorted, “it won't be too long before I'm a fully fledged witch."

  "You won't have to practice your cackle at least."