The sceptic, p.2
The Sceptic, page 2
“What about your past, lovely boy? I have a feeling that drives you far more than a distant future.”
“Hmm,” I say in a noncommittal voice. I shoot Jem an imploring glance. He bites his lips and it’s fairly obvious he’s considering leaving me to her. I narrow my eyes, and he gives a dramatic sigh that makes me want to laugh.
“I actually wondered whether you’d read my cards, Madame Hecate,” he says dutifully.
She’s instantly diverted and slinks towards him. Standing near him, she traces her hands in the air. “Such a wonderful aura, young man.”
“Really?”
“Yes, a lovely orange colour. You have creativity and a great sexual energy. You make a very good lover. Powerful and erotic.”
I choke on my own spit and Jem directs a sparkling glance at me. “Well, I haven’t had any complaints so far, but I’m very happy to provide my testimonials.”
I shake my head, and Madame Hecate laughs raucously.
“I’m sure you are.” She gestures at her table. It’s painted black with gold symbols all over it. “Let’s get to it, then. I’m afraid we’re tucked away in this little corner by the till until Tarquin sorts out my room.”
I grimace. Her future tarot room is doing duty as the rare books room at the moment. I’m not exactly sure where the books will be going. The viscount seems to be under the impression that he has a shop the size of Kensington Palace rather than a cramped three-storey bookshop tucked away on a little alleyway in York. Everything he buys is huge—like the seven-foot mirror that was delivered yesterday, and which is now languishing in the little kitchen, ready to startle poor bookshop employees with their own reflection. I will deny the scream I let out yesterday until my dying day.
“It’s Jem, isn’t it?” Madame Hecate says chattily as they seat themselves. “You’re Will’s young man.”
I suck in breath, and he grins at her. “Not yet, but not for want of trying.”
“Ah, I see that.” She directs a glance at me and then looks back at Jem. “Soon,” she says in a loud whisper, and I roll my eyes and make sure he sees me doing it. He grins and she reaches into the red lacquered box on the table and pulls out a pack of tarot cards. “Shuffle the deck please,” she instructs him. “And while you are doing that, think of the question you would like the cards to answer. Then lay ten cards face down on the table.”
He does as she says, and I lean on the counter, far more interested in this than any of the readings I’ve seen her do so far. Then I remember that this is supposed to be private, and I begin to turn away.
Jem looks up at my movement. “Where are you going?”
“Just giving you some privacy.”
He smiles. “I don’t mind you knowing anything, Will.” I stand frozen for a second and his eyebrow climbs queryingly.
“Fine,” I mumble and sit back down, narrowly avoiding knocking a stack of books over. I sneak a glance at him. He’s still shuffling the deck, his mouth quirking. I shoot him a glare that I hope spells “twat,” and he snorts.
Finally, he cuts the deck and begins to lay ten cards neatly in front of her. “Why ten?” he asks. His face is full of his usual lively interest. No matter who he’s talking to he’s always fully engaged. It’s one of his most attractive characteristics.
She takes the cards and lays them out in a new pattern on the table. “This is a Celtic Cross Spread. It will give you detailed answers to the questions you asked.” She smiles at him. “You may turn the cards over. Start with that one.”
He picks up the card she’s pointing at and turns it over to display the image. I strain to see what it is. He looks over at me and helpfully holds it up.
“Oh sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I put out my hand and promptly knock over my water. “Shit,” I shout just as one of the goths comes down into the shop. He blanches and turns tail to race back upstairs. “Great,” I whisper, mopping up the water. “Now I’ll never get them down. They’ll have to live up there, and one day I’ll open the shop and find they’ve created their own little zombie family.” I look up and find Jem and Madame Hecate watching me. I flush. “Sorry. Carry on.” I wave my hand in a commanding gesture and nearly knock over a bookstand.
Jem snorts and she shakes her head. “Oh dear, William.” Her pitying voice is slightly marred by the gleam of laughter in her eyes. She focuses back on Jem.
“This first card represents you, my dear. It tells me what influences you. This is the moon card. It shows me that you are a very intuitive person. You must trust that intuition. It has never steered you wrong before. However, you must also learn to be more patient.” She smiles. “I sense that is more difficult for you than anything else.”
She places the card neatly to one side. “The next card will be about your current situation.” She points to the cards and Jem immediately turns over another one.
“Strength,” he reads out loud.
The card depicts a girl hugging a lion. I hope that’s not in his immediate future or there won’t be much point to any of this.
“Ah, this is a good one,” she says, stroking the card. “Strength upright.”
“What does that mean?” Jem asks. I’m grateful because I really want to know too.
“The cards have different meanings depending on whether they are upright or reversed. This card is upright, and it says that you are compassionate and brave. You have everything that you need inside you to succeed in whatever you do, whether it be work or personal. You have a great endurance.”
She gazes down at the card, and he sneaks me a quick look. I have super endurance he mouths, giving me a salacious wink that makes me snort.
Madame Hecate glances at me, and I grimace. “Sorry. It was a sneeze.”
“Hmm,” she says, her mouth tilting in amusement. “Either that, or there’s a naughty influence coming to bear on you.” Her gaze seems to turn inward suddenly. “And maybe that will be a good thing for you, William.” She blinks as if coming to and then points at Jem. “Third card please, Jem. This one is all about the influences of your past.”
“Is the past really relevant?” he asks, his eyes focused.
She smiles. “Of course. We cannot understand the present or future without addressing the past.” She looks at the card he’s turned over. It’s a woman on a throne. “The hierophant card reversed. Hmm. Someone is influencing you to do as they want. This person has been in your life for a long time. You may need to change your own belief system, because this person may begin to have a negative impact on you.”
Jem goes still, as if she’s suddenly struck a nerve, and I wonder who that influencer could be. An old boyfriend? I shake myself. I’m unlikely ever to know, and that makes me a little sad.
She directs him to turn another card. “This is the recent past. All the influences that have led you here to this day and your current question of the cards.”
“It’s the Hanged Man reversed,” he says slowly, mouth quirking. “Well, that doesn’t sound very cheerful.”
I’m now leaning so far over the counter I could shuffle the deck myself but neither of them appears to notice.
“It’s not a bad card. It just has rather dramatic associations in films made by charlatans,” she says disapprovingly. “The Hanged Man in this context means that you have been resting and waiting. Things have been at a standstill for a while for you, Jem, a situation which has been alien to such a restless young man.” She frowns. “You may have to let go of your old ideas very soon and identify what you need for your future. It may not be what you have always thought it should be.”
He stares at her. His body is very still, which is rare with Jem, and his face is completely unreadable. The only sign he’s agitated is that his fingers have started a restless tapping on the table. “Next card?” he asks finally, and she nods. He hands her the card. “The Chariot reversed. What does that mean?”
She hums, looking at the picture. “The Chariot card is all about journeys and this is telling you not to go blindly into a new adventure like you usually do. Instead, you must temper your ego and be the master of your own journey this time. The card indicates a great impatience in you.”
“These cards are kind of a buzz kill,” he observes.
She laughs. “Let’s try the next one. This will be the card that focuses on your immediate future. It is about events that will happen.”
“Will happen? So, no changing anything then?”
She shakes her head. “Your past has brought you here. The immediate future is already set in motion.”
A sudden thrill of apprehension runs through me at her words.
He turns over the next card and laughs. “Oh dear.” He holds up the Fool card.
She examines the bright picture and says, “Ah. The fool reversed.”
“Story of my life.”
She looks over her glasses at him in a way my old headmistress used to do. “Hmm. This card indicates recklessness and risk-taking, Jem. Do you think that’s true of you?”
I laugh out loud, and the glance he slants my way is full of mirth.
“I do not recognise that description at all,” he says in a solemn voice that’s belied by his laughing eyes.
She chuckles. “I think that you’re a very charming young devil,” she says judiciously. “No wonder Will is smitten.”
I’ve just put my water to my mouth and immediately choke. After I’ve wiped my eyes, I find Jem shooting me a flirtatious look. “And is that in my cards too, Madame Hecate?”
“No, it isn’t,” I immediately say, and he gives me a mock-aggrieved pout.
Madame Hecate brandishes the Fool card at him. “This card foretells foolishness. Be careful, Jem. There may be trouble ahead.”
My smile drops away as he nods and bends towards the cards again, his hand hovering. A shadow falls over me, and I look up to find an old lady standing by the counter watching me. She’s small with white hair and wears a tweed skirt and jacket.
“Oh, hello,” I say quickly. “Can I help you?”
Jem and Madame Hecate are still talking, and I wish I could hear the rest of his reading. I then remind myself that I don’t believe in any of that rubbish and reapply myself to the customer. “Are you looking for something?”
She nods. “Yes. I’m looking for a book on spells involving deadly poisons that are grown in the United Kingdom and, in particular, around York.”
I stare at her with my mouth open, aware that conversation at the tarot table has stopped. When I glance across, Jem’s eyes are alight with laughter and mischief.
“Oh. Erm, I think we might have something for you. You’ll need our toxic-plant shelf.” I wave at the bookcases at the back of the long room. “They’re at the back there. I’ll show you.”
I round the desk to follow her, and Jem catches my hand as I walk past. “You have a toxic-plant shelf?” His hand is warm, his fingers callused, and my heart skips a beat.
“Jem, we have a shelf for every conceivable horrible death you could wish for,” I say glumly, and he snorts.
The lady turns back, giving me a sunny smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” I say quickly.
She waves a dismissive hand. “It’s no worry at all, young man. I only have my husband at home.” She sighs. “And I’m sure he’ll just be sitting compiling a list of the tasks I need to complete when I get home. Just sitting there,” she repeats in a sing-song voice. “Great big ugly lump.”
“Oh.” I’m still aware of Jem practically vibrating behind me and, after reminding myself again that I sell books, I bustle over to help her.
By the time I return from assisting a potential murderess—a task that will probably entail me attending court as a witness for the prosecution—there’s only one card left in front of Jem.
“Now this is the long-term outcome,” Madame Hecate says.
He turns over the last card. It’s a couple standing naked and entwined. “The Lovers,” he says and shoots me a wink. “Finally, a card that I can really put all my energy into.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure it is. Well, the good news is that it’s upright, but unfortunately it does not mean you’re getting a tumble tonight.” They both burst into laughter, and I shake my head, a smile tugging at my lips. Finally, she sobers. “This actually indicates that you must make an important decision soon. It will run contrary to everything in your past, Jem, which will worry you.” She leans forward. “But you have outgrown what has gone before and it will be a good choice.”
The two of them stare at each other, and it seems that they are saying a lot without words. I wonder what’s been said while I was becoming an accomplice to murder.
She blinks and then sits back, giving him a genial smile. “Well, was that a good reading, young man?”
“I’ll let you know.”
She giggles. “Make sure your report is excessively detailed.”
They exchange mischievous looks, and then, as one, turn to stare at me. I freeze and then roll my eyes. “I don’t want to know,” I inform them.
Jem shrugs. “Probably wise.”
Madame Hecate looks around in a vague manner. “Now where did I put my coffee?”
“It’s over there on the table with all the expensive books,” I point out.
She chuckles. “Goodness, imagine if my vanilla latte leaked on the regeneration books. Someone might raise Igglepiggle rather than Lucifer.”
“After my niece made me watch In the Night Garden, I have to say I’d prefer Satan,” Jem observes.
I laugh and then turn as the bell rings and a young woman comes into the shop.
I give her a welcoming smile and she edges closer. “I’m here for Madame Hecate,” she says in a low voice to me. “Is she here?”
I wave my hand at the tarot reader’s fabulousness, and she moves forward.
Jem gets out of his chair and wanders over to the counter as the two women talk in low voices.
“That was interesting.”
“I think the Fool was probably the most accurate bit.” He laughs and I shake my head. “It was pretty useless though.”
He cocks his head to one side. “You think?”
I sit back on my chair behind the counter. “I do. I’d never say it to Madame Hecate because it would hurt her feelings, but you can’t predict the future, and what she told you was something anyone could say within two minutes of meeting you.”
“How so?”
“You’re enthusiastic and open to anything.”
“Makes me sound like a lift door.”
“And you’re also reckless and impatient.” I sigh. “And very good-looking so it stands to reason that you have lots of admirers who like your worst qualities.” I stop talking, unable to believe I just said that.
He bites his lip, laughter brimming in his eyes. “That was a lot of words, but I’m choosing to focus on the bit where you said I was good-looking. It’s my curse in life to focus on the positivity.”
“Oh, shut up,” I say far too loudly.
“William,” Madame Hecate cries. “No negativity please. It affects my flow.”
“Sorry,” I say dutifully. “Negativity interrupts her flow,” I huff quietly. “I’m surprised she’s not backed up, being in such close proximity to Tom.”
He laughs and then gives me a very sultry look. “Please let’s go back to talking about how handsome I am.”
“I’d rather pickle my testicles in tartare sauce.”
“I shall hold them for you.”
“Such a wanker.” Admiration is far too clear in my voice, and he gives me a smile.
He looks down at the counter and the pile of shiny prospectuses. “Are these the universities you’re interested in?” he asks.
I gladly seize on a change of subject. “Yes, for the fascinating subject of accountancy. I’m going back to finish my degree.”
He opens one with the incurably nosy air of his, which I’m coming to realise is a staple part of his character. He looks up at me and smiles. “It’s one I’m very familiar with.”
“What do you mean?”
“My parents are both accountants.”
“Really? How did I not know that?”
He chuckles. “Maybe because we don’t know each other that well.” He winks. “It’s something I’m very happy to remedy.”
The silence between us lasts a beat too long. Finally, he sighs before giving me a bright smile as he pushes the leaflet back to me. He straightens and starts to wander the store, pulling out books and looking at them while the radio plays quietly in the background.
“So, how come you’re not one?” I burst out.
He jerks and turns a startled gaze at me. “What?”
“An accountant,” I mutter and scratch my head.
He sets me back in some strange way. I can be charming if I wish. Or at least, I used to be able to turn on the charm. But with Jem, I’m like a caveman grunting and forever knocking things over, and I can’t see that changing any time soon. Only yesterday he smiled at me, and I walked into a bookshelf.
He makes no secret of the fact that he fancies me. Usually, I’d shag him and move on, as I do with everyone. I’m never rude or horrible, but I always move on. I learnt my lesson on relationships a very long time ago, and it was painful enough to have it engraved on my soul. But Jem threatens my resolve. He’s beautiful and kind and effortlessly charming, which is rather irritating. I want to be unmoved, and it would be easier if he were a wanker.
“Hello. Earth to Will.” I look up to find him staring at me. “You okay? You vanished somewhere.”
I force a smile. “I’m fine. You were saying your parents are accountants?”
He bites his lip, watching me with that bright gaze of his. “I did. They wanted me to be one too. I’m a bit of a rebel in my family.”
“You’re a rebel when you’ve won awards for your camera work?” He raises his eyebrows, and I flush. “Or so Blue says,” I mutter. No way I’m admitting I googled him.
He takes pity on me and grins. “What’s photographing wildlife in their natural habitat got on VAT registration and limited companies?”
I rub my nose. “Well, I’d probably agree with your mum and dad, actually.”
