The clairvoyants glasses.., p.1
The Clairvoyant's Glasses Volume 1, page 1
The Clairvoyant’s Glasses
Volume 1
By Helen Goltz
The Clairvoyant’s Glasses Volume 1
PUBLISHED BY: Atlas Productions
First published 2015. Republished 2021.
Copyright © Helen Goltz
All rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without the written permission from the author or the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations for review purposes. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales is entirely coincidental, and frankly, pretty amazing should that happen!
Proofread by Becky Strahl and Sally Odgers.
Cover by Karri Klawiter – Art by Karri.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
The Clairvoyant’s Glasses Volume 2 sample:
You might also enjoy by this author…
Acknowledgements
About the author:
Connect with Helen at:
For Chris.
A clairvoyant told me I would be very happy one day, and look what happened!
Volume 1
A vision unexpected
Chapter 1
In the beginning…
When Sophie Carell was eight years old, her eccentric great aunt, Daphne, predicted Sophie would be one of the greatest clairvoyants of her time.
Sophie was disappointed. She didn’t want to be a clairvoyant like her strange great aunt who wore pearls in the daytime and smoked her cigarettes through a long, jade cigarette holder. She wanted to be a movie star. She believed it when everyone said she was pretty and talented. She wanted to marry a handsome actor and drive around in a limousine waving to her fans. Her mother said not to worry about it. Daphne was a ‘nutter’ and they didn’t call her Aunt Daffy for nothing.
Daphne collected broken people like some people collect stamps. She was a magnet for the needy, down-and-out and wayward. They came to her, then did what she told them and went on to lead better lives. For the rest of their days, they adored her and word-of-mouth of her ability spread. Working from her faded mansion, Daphne also helped the police solve crimes and she found lost items. She was supported by some loyal staff that had been with her longer than some of Daphne’s antiques. She was quite famous, but Sophie didn’t want that kind of fame.
Every Christmas, Sophie asked for a new reading, expecting and waiting for it to change, for Aunt Daffy to reveal that Sophie would have a star on the pavement in Hollywood and a statue in her hometown one day. But every year, Daphne predicted the same thing for Sophie. She stood by her reading until she died, Daphne that is. And Sophie was called to the grand dame’s rambling home for the reading of the will.
Chapter 2
Now…
Sophie had never seen such a straight nose. Mr Saggers of Saggers & Son solicitors looked like something out of a Dickens novel. It would be fair to say that other than his nose, he had no edges, just curves. He motioned Sophie to a seat with something between an admiring smile and a lecherous grin. Sophie shuddered, smiled politely and took a seat in front of his desk. To her left sat her cousin, Rupert, who had since changed his name to Brad. He smiled and nodded. Beside Rupert-Brad was Aunt Virginia, a self-proclaimed teetotaller who always smelled of rum.
Mr Saggers cleared his throat, straightened his black tie and pushed his shoulders back. He reached for a pair of thin, silver framed spectacles and slowly unfolded them, wiped them with a small black cloth and pushed them onto his long, straight nose. Good thing they hook behind the ear or they would just slide right off, Sophie thought.
Mr Saggers looked around his well-appointed office as though waiting for a bell or cue to start reading. Sophie looked as well but couldn’t see anything out of the usual.
‘As you are all here now, we’ll begin the reading of the last Will and Testament of Mrs Daphne Shelby of 12 Serendipity Lane who was of sound mind at the time of the making of this will,’ he announced.
Sound mind! Had she ever been? Sophie wondered.
She felt Rupert bristle beside her. He wants this as badly as I do. A rush of excitement went through her. Please Aunt Daffy, please make my life easier!
Mr Saggers continued. ‘I shall read as it is written,’ he announced. ‘To my dear, dear sister, Virginia, I leave my cellar of wine, my bible and the family paintings that she so much admired.’ Sophie looked towards Aunt Virginia who clapped her hands in delight.
Mm, her hearing is obviously on the decline or she really is happy about that. Sophie smiled and nodded to Virginia and returned her gaze to Mr Saggers. The house, the house, please leave me the house, Aunt Daffy, she chanted to herself.
Mr Saggers continued, projecting his voice more than necessary for the small number of guests in his office.
‘To my sweet nephew, Rupert, who has done so much for me…’
Damn, Sophie thought, there goes the house…
‘To Rupert, I leave you my grand Rolls Royce which has given me hours of pleasure and I hope you will enjoy continuing to tinker on it.’
Sophie’s heart caught in her chest. She turned and smiled at Rupert.
‘Lovely,’ he said, politely.
Bring it home, let’s go here, hand over the house keys. Sophie tried not to smile.
Mr Saggers lifted the paper and continued to read. ‘I leave my house in Serendipity Lane and my holiday home on the Isle of Palms to…’
Sophie stopped breathing.
‘To the Society of Inner Health and Harmony for their exclusive use for functions, conferences and healing workshops as they see fit under the governance of a board of trustees to include the current board of the Inner Health and Harmony Society.’
Sophie’s world disappeared before her. The house and the investment property were not to be hers. She saw herself as though removed from her body—endless auditioning, working morning shifts at the Circle Corner Café pouring coffee—depression began to envelop her.
‘Bad luck, cuz.’ Rupert nudged her.
‘What?’ Sophie came back to earth. ‘Oh, yes, thanks, Brad,’ she accentuated his new name.
‘And finally,’ Mr Saggers continued oblivious to Sophie’s state of shock, ‘to my most loving niece, Sophie…’ he stopped, looked up and smiled at Sophie before resuming, ‘to Sophie whom I always predicted would follow in my footsteps, I leave my two pairs of reading glasses to her care.’
‘What?’ Sophie almost shouted. ‘I mean I beg your pardon? Did you say reading glasses?’ Sophie stuttered, leaning forward on Mr Saggers’s desk.
She heard Rupert chuckle beside her before he tried to camouflage it with a cough.
Mr Saggers read it again and then reached into the top drawer of his desk where he produced a business card. He pushed it across the desk towards Sophie. ‘You can collect the glasses from this address, at the Optical Illusion store. Thank you ladies and gentleman for attending.’ He returned the paper to a file and closed it.
Sophie stared at the small square of cardboard. She felt Aunt Virginia kiss the top of her head and whisper, ‘Goodbye, dear,’ and felt Rupert nudge her and call, ‘See ya,’ as he walked out still chuckling. Sophie couldn’t move.
‘Anything else that I can assist you with Miss Carell? Clearly your aunt’s passing has upset you,’ Mr Saggers said.
Sophie gathered herself. ‘Yes, most upsetting. Thank you, Mr Saggers.’ Sophie slipped the card, without reading it, into her handbag and departed.
Chapter 3
It would be very easy to miss the Optical Illusion store. Not because it was in itself an optical illusion, but because its shop front was no more than four meters wide and it was neatly placed between the Perfect Slice cake store and Just the Thing gift store. On closer inspection, the Optical Illusion store looked as if it might have been there for a hundred years and long before the flanking shops. The leadlight windows, mahogany timber framed entrance and the quaint silver bell which sat above the door and tinkled on entry and exit, were positively antique. Each small diamond shaped glass panel, framed by leadlight, held a little treasure—a pair of glasses, a small clock or a crystal glass. When the sunlight hit the shop at approximately one-thirty p.m. in winter and eleven a.m. in summer, passers-by had to shield their eyes from rays of reflecting light.
Equally as ancient and to be found regularly behind the counter was Mr Alfred Lens; the proud owner and once apprentice of the former Mr Bertram Lens, his father. Yes, they had heard every amusing reference to their surname and occupation. Alfred Lens grew up in the Optical Illusion store, residing with his parents and siblings in the house above the store where he still lived to this day. From the age of ten, at the end of the second decade of the new century (that would be the twentieth century and just after the Great War), he had begun his apprenticeship in the wonderful world of optics under the tutelage of his very knowledgeable father.
Mr Alfred Lens proudly told all his customers that he was only a few years shy of seventy and might soon retire. He had been threatening that for well over a decade. Mr Lens’s grandson, the very handsome, tall and mysterious, Lukas Lens, 25 years of age and a master clock smith, anticipated Alfred would die on duty, crashing through the glass showcases, and would be taken to the grave with a variety of optical pieces well-embedded for posterity.
Three days a week they were joined by Alfred’s niece, Lukas’s cousin, the willowy Orli. Twenty-two and with her name meaning ‘light’, Orli radiated light. She was born with hair that was almost white, her features were pale and she shared the pale blue eyes that ran in Alfred and Lukas’s family. Unlike Alfred, Orli did her optometry qualification at university and as Alfred removed himself from that side of the business—only looking after his long-term and loyal clients—Orli became the resident optometrist and spent her time looking into the eyes of customers, gleaning more than they could ever imagine.
Together the three members of the Lens family made a comfortable team; Alfred providing the front-of-shop service and overseeing the business, Lukas maintaining all things clock and timepiece related and Orli in the eye business.
Alfred cleared his throat. ‘She’s here, my boy,’ he said. ‘I think that might be her.’
Lukas Lens looked up quickly from the timepiece he was working on and removed his magnifying eyepiece. He blinked his long dark lashes and his pale blue eyes adjusted to the light as he looked outside.
‘She’s rather a charming looking young lady,’ Alfred noted. ‘But so was her great aunt Daphne—yes, a fine-looking woman in her day.’
‘Yes, she is,’ Lukas agreed feeling himself blush in anticipation of the obvious and pending matchmaking efforts by his grandfather. Lukas noted she was neither tall nor short, with wavy long blonde hair that distracted you from noticing any other features. She was dressed in a plain navy-blue dress with strappy shoes but was wrapped in an open caramel-coloured coat.
‘Should we perhaps go out?’ Lukas asked, seeing her hesitate.
Alfred shook his head. ‘No, I believe she’s coming over. Perhaps you might like to get Daphne’s glasses?’
Lukas nodded, tearing his eyes away from Sophie, and retreating to the back of the store out of view.
*****
Just before noon, Sophie stood on the pavement on the opposite side of the Optical Illusion store. She had been up and down this strip of shops hundreds of times—for the boutique shopping, cafés and the restaurants—but had never once noticed the Optical Illusion store.
She looked at the business card again. This is ridiculous. Why am I even bothering to pick up these stupid glasses? She turned to go, then stopped and turned back. I’m here now, whatever. Just get them.
Sophie looked left and right and crossed the road, determined to get the glasses and get out of there quickly. She shielded her eyes from the rays of light that reflected from the diamond shaped windows and pushed open the door, hearing the bell tinkle above her.
Adjusting her eyes, she almost didn’t see him; the old man who blended in with the shop as though he too was on display. The store seemed bigger on the inside, maybe because of all the mirrors and glass or, as Sophie mused, it was like the Tardis and expanded inside.
‘Good day, Alfred Lens at your service.’
Sophie smiled. ‘Good morning.’ She looked around, unsure of what the store was… an optometrist, a glass store, a jewellery shop or clock and watch repairer? ‘Umm… I have a card.’ She handed it over. ‘It’s your card. I got it from Mr Saggers of Saggers…’
‘You must be Sophie, Daphne’s niece.’ Mr Lens nodded.
‘Yes,’ Sophie said, surprised. ‘You know, that is, you knew my great aunt?’
Mr Lens nodded and smiled. ‘It was my honour to have known Daphne. What a grand girl she was. I was sorry to hear of her passing; my grandson and I were at the funeral, but in your grief you may not have noticed.’
‘Ah, no, sorry,’ Sophie said. She studied the tall, well-groomed aged man with his warm toned voice.
‘But she has left something for you.’
‘Yes.’ Sophie tried not to smirk and add some stupid glasses! ‘I believe I have to collect them from here.’
‘Indeed.’ Alfred turned to the entrance of the back room and called to Lukas. He turned back to study Sophie. ‘My grandson, Lukas, will bring them.’
Sophie nodded and began to look into the cabinets.
Alfred cleared his throat. ‘I could tell you some wonderful stories about your aunt; she was quite a character, if you were ever interested of course… I know you young people are very busy these days.’
Sophie smiled. ‘Thank you, my great aunt was certainly different. Some might say daffy!’
Alfred laughed. ‘Ah, here he is.’ He turned from one young person to the next. ‘Miss Sophie, may I present my grandson, Mr Lukas Lens.’
Lukas shook his head at his grandfather’s formality and with a smile extended his hand. ‘Hello Sophie,’ he said warmly.
Well, this is getting better. Sophie smiled, taking in the tall and handsome Lukas Lens with his lean frame, his light brown hair falling over his face and very pale blue eyes. He wore his suit well… very formal for a glasses store.
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Sophie smiled with renewed interest.
Alfred extended his hand to point to the other side of the store where modern and antique clocks and an array of watches were displayed. ‘My grandson is a clock master. There is nothing he doesn’t know about time and timepieces.’
‘Except how to stop time,’ Lukas added.
Sophie laughed. She gathered they had done this routine a few thousand times. She looked at the two glasses cases that Lukas had placed on the counter.
‘Ah, so these are my inheritance,’ she said.
‘Now, if it is not too presumptuous of me to say,’ Alfred began while retrieving a small box to put the cases in, ‘these are very special glasses. There’s a reason they have been left to you… I’m sure you will find them very, very useful.’
Sophie bit her tongue. I would have found the house much more useful!
He waved an envelope at her.
‘Daphne also left you this letter. May I strongly suggest that you read this before putting the glasses on.’
‘Thanks, but I don’t need glasses yet,’ Sophie said, taking the box from Alfred. ‘But they will be a nice reminder of my eccentric aunt. Well thank you, Mr Lens and uh, Mr Lens, nice to meet you both,’ she said, hurrying to the door.
‘You can come here any time, if you need them repaired or cleaned…’ Alfred continued.
She barely heard their farewells as she hurried out to the footpath, keen to put the whole thing behind her and get back to her disillusioned life.
Chapter 4
Sophie only had to walk another five minutes along the village street to meet her two closest friends for lunch.
As she crossed the street, she could see they were already there, seated at a small table in the garden of a popular café. Lucy had her hair tied up and full studio make-up on, while Blaine looked groomed; every hair in place and wearing a designer shirt and designer jeans. Her gay second-best friend always looked better than she did—being a hairdresser helped. She dropped down beside them, pecking them both on the cheek.
