Suddenly Psychic

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Suddenly Psychic Page 15

by Melanie Baxter


  Sophie turned back to me but there was no gratitude in her puffy eyes, only resentment, resentment and something else. I felt a pang of surprise as I recognized the emotion written on her face. It was jealousy. Harvey was right. Sophie was actually jealous of me. Why hadn't I seen this before?

  My own resentment thawed into acceptance as I realized this was not my battle any more. Nothing would ever change in my family, the patterns were grooved too deeply for anyone to sing out of tune. Trying to stop Sophie needling me out of the family nest was pointless. Trying to make Mum proud of me was futile too, and what difference would it really make to me if I eventually gained her approval? Dad? Well, Dad would love me in his own sweet way, but his advice would never amount to much more than a string of clichés. This was my family and I couldn't change them. But that didn't mean I had to be molded by their ideas of who I was. The powers of cutting the karmic ties were finally in my grasp. Now it was simply a matter of letting go.

  "I'm really sorry about Richard, Sis. I hope things get easier for you."

  Sophie's lip trembled a little as she took in my words. Then Adam galloped in from the lounge and she scooped him up, hugging him tight to her chest.

  "Whatever.” She muttered and handed Adam to Mum who kissed him then put him down.

  "Oh, dear.” Mum bent down and started crooning in Adam's ear. “Has he done a little choccy pants again? Is he a smelly-welly?"

  Adam jabbed a finger at me and his grin became wider.

  "Bamba do it!"

  By the time I got on the train, I felt like I'd been through an emotional mangle. At least I had made some progress with the family. After Sophie's ‘bombshell', as Dad put it, and her choking fit, I'd decided not to mention my psychic curse again. I had left on a pretty harmonic note, all things considered.

  I tried to listen to the rhythmical clacking of the train and marshal my racing thoughts into some order. My predictions regarding Sophie and Mum had been totally accurate. Hadn't I told Mum that she would come to the aid of a family member, a crisis would be averted, and that she would be helping someone through a difficult time? ‘The crisis being averted’ was probably me saving Sophie's life.

  My mouth went slack. Saving Sophie's life. A wave of excitement swept over me as I realized what I had done. It hadn't been premeditated. It had been instinctive. There was no doubt if I hadn't stepped in...

  A slow smile broke out on my face. Perhaps I had just paid off my Karmic debt. If Madame Pungenti was right, things should start getting back to normal. As the train rushed through a tunnel and I saw my slightly glazed eyes stare back at me in the scratched window, I had another thought. It was something Mum had said about predicting the lottery numbers.

  "Why didn't I think of this before? How stupid of me.” I shook my head and tutted to myself as the old lady next to me looked up from her book. If everything I predicted came true, then all I had to do was predict that I would lose my psychic abilities and get back to normal. It was so simple. My chest tightened. What did I have to lose? I turned to the old lady next to me.

  "I'm not going to be psychic any more, I'll be back to normal soon, and everything will work out with me and Harvey. Oh, but before that happens, I'm going to win the big prize on the lottery."

  "You youngsters really do talk a different language these days.” The old lady shook her head and returned to her reading.

  There. I'd done it. Now I could meet Harvey in the Pig ‘n Whistle tonight and explain everything. He'd probably think I was totally mad, but never mind. I had done what Madame Pungenti said, and, if there was any sort of truth behind her karmic theory, I was going to be normal again. I rested my head against the glass and closed my eyes, the muscles in my face relaxing for the first time in days.

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  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Revelations

  Pudding wove in and out of my legs madly as Monique jabbered on about how ‘absolutely diabolical’ it had been whilst I was away.

  She put a glass of chardonnay on the kitchen counter next to me. “And really, darling, I had no idea you entered so many competitions. Two women rang last night, one to say you'd won a stairlift and the other, who had a terrible speech impediment, I might say, told me to pass on to you that you've got through to the short list of ‘Young Whippersnapper of the Year'. I must say, I've never heard of that one..."

  "You should have used the whistle I left. Someone's playing prank calls. I told you, remember?” I laughed and scooped up Pudding, rubbing his soft black fur against my cheek.

  "Oh, crikey, it was a joke then? Well, I didn't find it very funny. Anyway, that cat of yours...” She inclined her head at Pudding as he kneaded my shoulder and vibrated with purrs.

  "Thanks for looking after him."

  She rolled her eyes and snorted. “Droppings like bricks. Now...” she fixed me with a beady stare, “about this little curse problem of yours, you being psychic and all."

  "I think I've sorted it out now actually. I guess I'll know in a couple of days."

  "Cos I was going to say, I've got a simply wonderful therapist, darling, he managed to stop me biting my nails and now look.” She flashed her French polished fingers at me. Before I had a chance to explain about Madam Pungenti and the karmic debt Monique rattled on, “Oh Tanya's got some news, she wants you to call her."

  "Is everything alright?” Pudding wriggled out of my arms as I reached out for my wine.

  "Yes. Fine. I've been sworn to secrecy but...” Monique tapped her nose, “let's just say it's big and sparkly and she didn't get it out of a cracker."

  "Titus proposed. That's fantastic! I hope it works out though, gunshot wedding or what."

  "Let's hope they jolly well buck the trend and live happily ever after. Can you imagine ... two little ‘tight arses’ running around with Tanya and her Greek god?"

  We both looked at each other and then burst out laughing.

  "Now, tell me, have you sorted everything out with Harvey the hunk?"

  I sighed and leaned back on the counter as I explained to Monique about our phone conversation and the meeting planned for tonight. Monique offered to do my makeup and hair for the evening so I would ‘rock his socks’ when I walked in. Knowing the state my face had been in recently, I jumped at the chance. I'd hardly dared to look in the mirror since I'd sorted out my karmic debt in case it hadn't worked, but Monique had assured me her concealer could turn “even the stodgiest pizza to peaches and cream."

  "Thanks a lot, Monique,” I said sarcastically as she began the beautification process.

  She waved my concerns away as she drained the last of the chardonnay in her glass. I'd stopped after one as I didn't want to risk throwing up again at the Pig ‘n Whistle.

  "Honestly, sweetie, you know you're a hottie. We all get little breakouts from time to time. You ought to get rid of that though.” She leaned forward and squinted her eyes at my chin. “Where are the tweezers, I'll do your eyebrows too while I'm at it..."

  "What?” I sat up with alarm and grabbed the mirror. My face drained of colour as I saw the second black hair on my chin.

  "I can't believe I've got another hair growing out of my chin! That's the second one I've found recently. My god, what's happening to me?"

  "Calm down, sweetie. It's just a freak hair, that's all. You should see my boss at work, her moustache has practically got handlebars."

  I took a deep breath and steadied myself. It would probably take a couple of days for everything to go back to normal.

  "What you need, sweetie, is a jolly good plucking.” Monique clipped the tweezers together and leaned towards my face. I closed my eyes and winced as she began on my eyebrows.

  An hour later, Monique had worked her magic and I hardly recognized myself. I'd borrowed her off-the-shoulder, lacey, blue top which played up my eyes and drew attention to my wonder-bra cleavage. My hair had a great sheen thanks to Monique's glisten oil and my feet were long but elegant in my strappy black shoes
which went nicely with my black jeans.

  "I think I look a bit dressed up for the pub."

  "Nonsense! You look stunning, and besides,” she winked at me as she swept her designer products off my bathroom counter and into a soft leather makeup bag, “hopefully you won't be dressed up for long anyway! Come to think of it, why do we girls go to all the effort of getting dressed up for men when all we want them to do is to take our clothes off?"

  "Nice packaging makes the present even more tempting, I guess.” I pursed my lips together in the mirror, admiring the flawless finish on my chin. “Wow, I can't believe how good my skin looks. You've saved my life."

  By six o’ clock, Monique had left and it was just me and Pudding. I painted my nails a pearly pink and tried to watch TV while I blew on them to dry, but I couldn't concentrate. I kept checking my watch. My stomach was all crunched up and my hands were clammy when I thought about seeing Harvey again and how I was going to explain everything without lying to him. Finally it got to six thirty and I was just getting ready to go when the phone rang.

  "Hello?” I picked up the receiver and, for a second, there was no response.

  "Uuuuuuu huuuuuu uuuuuu huuuuu” The sound of heavy breathing came over the line, wheezing faster and faster.

  My jaw tightened with anger. I had a long fuse but these prank calls had finally reached the barrel.

  I grabbed the shiny whistle on the table and said calmly, “Not very original, you bastard."

  I blew the whistle, long, hard and triumphantly down the phone and then placed the receiver gently down with a smile. I was about to turn away when I had a thought.

  "I wonder...” I dialed the call back. Perhaps the prankster had slipped up this time.

  "You were called today by..."

  As the automated voice enunciated the numbers, I scrabbled for a pen and wrote them down, my the initial elation at catching the perpetrator plummeting to a gut wrenching gasp as I realized the number was familiar to me.

  "Couldn't be,” I breathed as I pulled open the drawer by the telephone and grabbed my tattered address book, thumbing through the pages until I got to the right one.

  The sense of dread uncurled in the pit of my stomach. It wasn't a number I'd used for ages, I always called the mobile these days. I ran my finger down the page and my mouth dropped open as I stopped at the matching number scrawled with a smiley face and love heart by the side. It was Harvey's work number. There had to be some mistake. I grabbed my mobile and checked my callers list. There it was, clear as the nose on my face. My Harvey.

  The blood drained from my cheeks as the possibility of his betrayal sank in like a knife. I remembered his apparent concern about the calls and his questioning about how I'd reacted when I got them. Did he have an ulterior motive for his interest? I put the address book down with trembling fingers and swallowed back the nausea, perching on the arm of the sofa for support. I narrowed my eyes and thought back on the different calls I had received. The cat protection league, the queen ... oh god ... it was starting to made sense now. Harvey was always joking about his family having royal blood and of course he knew about Pudding. And hadn't he mentioned he was working on some kind of voice changing software at work?

  "No.” I breathed as tried not to think about his comment that he could make some obscene phone calls to me from Edinburgh. But how could he carry on when he knew how it was affecting me? He'd told me he loved me only the other night. How could he be so ruthless in his pursuit of a practical joke? I sat for a while, holding myself and rocking a little as the awful truth became clear in my mind.

  It was my worst fear. Harvey had played me for a fool. He'd convinced me he cared, but it had all just been a big joke to him. Why had I ever thought I could trust a man? What made Harvey any different? I could see it now. Good old Amber, good for a giggle, but not for the long haul. All the feelings I thought he had were just in my head. He'd just played along. Saying what I wanted to hear whilst I believed what I wanted to believe.

  I ignored the prickling of tears and looked at my watch. He was probably on his way to the pub now, waiting to have another good laugh at me. At least I'd blown the whistle on him, hopefully he'd be thoroughly deaf in one ear. Although, he'd probably been prepared for that, as I'd told him when we were in Edinburgh that I was ready for the next call with the whistle.

  The first flickers of anger kindled now, the sparks quickening my breathing and flushing my cheeks as I jumped up from the sofa. I paced the room, clenching and unclenching my hands in fists, gritting my teeth. How dare he? I welcomed the rage as it swept through my body, lending me a warmth that masked the hurt and pain. Pudding, unnerved by my pacing, flumped from the chair, with a tummy growl, and padded off, his tail fluffed up like a bottle brush.

  "That's right, go and crunch some more biscuits.” I called after him, “You males are all the same,” I muttered to myself, “So bloody smug and superior. Animals the lot of you."

  Pudding switched his tail and ignored my ranting.

  I stopped pacing as I caught my reflection in the mirror. My grey eyes smoldered back at me, framed by my long dark hair. All the effort Monique had gone to, my dream of a lovely night together with Harvey in tatters.

  My anger subsided a little and my lips formed one word, echoing the question ricocheting in my head. “Why?"

  There was still a stubborn corner that refused to believe I had misread him so completely. I had to find out. I checked my watch again. It would make me feel better, and perhaps I could walk out of this relationship with my head still held high. I peered more closely into the mirror. Good, mascara was still intact but quick repair job was required for the lips. Apart from that, no one would know I'd just had my heart shattered.

  I ignored the tightening of my chest and concentrated on the outrage of it all instead. It worked. I applied the gloss with a flourish, snapped my purse shut, and snatched up my mobile. A grim sense of purpose steeled my will as I closed the door to my flat. Sunflower Longbottom would disagree, but I was beyond caring. I hurried down the stairwell. My mind was made up, and I refused to let Harvey have the last laugh. It was time to get some answers.

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  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The Last Cackle

  Opening the door to the Pig ‘n Whistle, the warm smell of smoke and beer mixed with meat pies, brought back a vivid memory of the last time I'd been here and made my nausea worse. It was packed with people as I tried to make my way to the bar, squeezing past a couple of leering blokes, ignoring the raucous comments of “Hey darlin'.” I was about to turn round and slap someone for pinching my bum when I saw Harvey making his way towards me from a corner of the pub, a huge smile on his face.

  Seeing him again made my stomach drop. His hair had grown, his good looks still shone out like a beacon in the dimly lit pub, but he looked pale. All the old feelings flooded back as he approached and every part of me screamed to fling myself into his arms. Then I remembered with a bitterness the phone calls and stopped myself smiling back at him.

  "My god, you look stunning! I really thought you weren't coming.” His hands slipped round my waist and he brushed his lips against mine.

  I ignored the sweeping desire to melt into him and turned my face away.

  "Let's sit down, shall we?” My voice was brittle, cold, and Harvey's smile faded.

  He guided me to a quieter corner of the pub where he had a drink waiting for me. I sat down and looked at him, longing to smooth the tuft of hair that was sticking out by his ear. His eyebrows were drawn together and his eyes never left my face.

  "God, it's good to see you. You look ... different. Talk to me."

  He moved his hand across the table to cover my hand but I drew it back. I yearned to kiss the sexy curve of his mouth, but I reminded myself of the lies that came from those lips.

  "You can drop the act now, Harvey.” I shook my head slightly at his puzzled expression. “You know full well why I was late. I guess you think I
must be the most gullible girl in Britain. I just want to know why."

  "Why would I think that? What are you talking about?” Harvey sat back in his chair, shrugging his palms upwards.

  His lies didn't fool me any more though. I knew it was all too perfect to have been true.

  "Perhaps you should have done acting night classes rather than life drawing Harvey? That way we'd have never met.” My voice sounded so tight. Was this really where we had ended up?

  Harvey's face went a shade paler. He knew he'd been caught, but still he kept up the pretence. “You're not making any sense...” His eyebrow quirked up. “Is this a joke?"

  The corner of his mouth began to curve in a grin. I changed tactics. He obviously needed me to spell it out.

  I forced a smile and said brightly, “So how's the voice changing software coming along then?"

  For a moment, he studied my face quizzically, then the dimple appeared as he grinned. “Oh, so you found out about it! I didn't think it would come out in the public so soon. Pretty unexpected eh? Bet you didn't think I'd do it did you? Wasn't easy though, I can tell you, there were times that I thought I wasn't going to pull it off. Had to hold my nerve, you know. Well, I say I, it wasn't just me of course, it was a team effort..."

  My mouth twisted as he spoke. I couldn't believe he was sitting there boasting about the horrible jokes he had played on me and telling me that his whole team had been involved. Jesus, talk about insensitive. I had heard enough. I stood up and slammed my fist on the table, making him jump. I couldn't contain my anger any longer.

  "You really are incredible. I can't believe you're so proud of yourself after what you've done! How can you sit there boasting about it to me of all people? I trusted you, Harvey Williams! Didn't that mean anything?"

  "Amber, for God's sake, what's wrong?” Harvey was looking at me with a horrified expression.

  "Perhaps I just can't take a joke ... you ... you ... phony bastard.” I grabbed my drink at threw it at his shocked face. “And sort out your hair.” I yelled at him before turning away.

 

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