The Cinderella Reflex (19 page)

“It’s young people who need
Psychic Granny
the most,” Grandma Rosa was continuing with her pitch. And then, a little uncertainly, “Helloooo … are you still there?”

“Yes, I am.” Helene made a fast decision. “Look, how about I come along to visit you and let me see what I think then?”

“But that’s fantastic!” Grandma Rosa was delighted. “When? Can you come today? I have a free slot just after lunch. Two o’clock.”

“Great.” Helene scribbled down Rosa’s directions. The visit would get her out of the office, even if nothing came of it.

She put down the phone and forced herself to concentrate on her work. It was tough going lately, trying to fill the gap Tess Morgan had left, keeping up with her own job and working out how to win the contest. She worked on through her lunch, eating a yoghurt at her desk, and set off for Rose Cottage.

She parked her car in a lay-by and walked down the winding road, looking for the address. A dark-haired man, sitting on a wooden bench, was lazily rubbing the ears of a black-and-white collie panting beside him. As Helene passed him by he smiled a greeting. He looked as though he didn’t have a care in the world, which reminded Helene of Matt from the Travel Café. She was going to get Matt in to do a slot soon – his enthusiasm about travelling was infectious and she was sure he would go down well with the listeners.

If only Richard was as uncomplicated and easy-going. Normally, by this stage in the day, he would have been on to her half a dozen times, either giving her work instructions or else arranging when he could get away to be with her. But since their row at the press conference he’d been keeping his distance. She hadn’t realised how empty her life would feel without Richard in it.

Finally she reached Rose Cottage. She stood still for a few seconds, her hand on the rickety gate, reading the hand-painted sign in the garden.

Seventh Daughter of a Seventh Daughter!

Let Grandma Rosa foretell your future!

Tea leaves (cup of tea free!), Cards and Crystals.

The cottage had an untidy thatched roof and a crooked wooden fence. The garden was a riot of colour, with multi-coloured tulips and primulas crowded into every available space. A fat black cat was sunning himself in the window.

Helene pushed open the gate and marched purposefully up the path. She was looking for a bell when the front door opened and an elderly woman motioned for her to come in.

Helene took a step backwards. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting from her Psychic Granny – but Ugg boots? Purple hair? And, perhaps most unnervingly of all, huge silver ear-hoops, not unlike Helene’s own trademark earrings.

“I’m Helene Harper.” She touched her right earring self-consciously. “From Atlantic 1FM.”

“Of course!” Rosa opened the door wider. “I’ve been waiting for you. Come on in to the parlour.”

Helene followed her into the hall and peered into the tiny room. It was so stuffed with clutter that Helene, whose own apartment was a monument to minimalism, felt slightly sick just looking at it. A shabby floral sofa festooned with cushions was backed up against the wall. An ancient rocking chair creaked in the corner and a low, scratched table was set with a large silver teapot and a pair of terracotta-coloured mugs. Dozens of ornamental cats jostled for space on the bookshelves. Pen-and-ink drawings of more cats crowded the walls. The smell of incense was overpowering. Something soft brushed against Helene’s legs and she jumped, startled.

“Millie! How many times have I told you about frightening away my clients?” Rosa chided.

The black cat Helene had seen in the window skulked into a corner and hissed at Helene, staring at her with huge, green eyes. Helene stared back until the cat gave up and screwed itself up into a defensive black ball of fur.

“So?” Helene turned her attention to the fortune teller.

“Sit down there and make yourself comfortable.” Grandma Rosa took the rocking chair and gestured for Helene to sit on the sofa.

“Would you like tea leaves, tarot cards
or
,” Grandma Rosa indicated a large glass ball with a pair of white ornamental hands on top, “the crystal ball?”

“Actually,” Helene sat down gingerly on the edge of the sofa, “I’d like my chakras unblocked.”

“Your
whats
unblocked?” Rosa looked mystified.

“My chakras.” Helene rubbed the hollow of her neck thoughtfully. She’d swear she could almost
feel
where Annie had detected the blockage. “A therapist told me my throat chakra was blocked, which means, apparently, that I find it difficult to express myself. Have you heard of chakra therapy?”

“Now that you mention it, I do remember a woman in my psychic club mentioning something about chakras – she’s into the auld Reiki. They’re something to do with energy, but don’t ask me what. Seemed to be very complicated to me.” Rosa poured out two mugs of tea. “Milk? Sugar?”

“Just milk.” Helene was disappointed. “So – what
can
you do?”

“Well … I always recommend tea leaves for first-timers.” Rosa poured the milk and shoved a mug towards Helene.

“Tea leaves?” Helene raised her eyebrows. If Grandma Rosa was serious about getting a radio slot she was going to have to do better than that. She didn’t want her yakking on about dark handsome men and overseas trips. She opened her mouth to say as much but Rosa interrupted her.

“To be honest this scene is changing so fast it’s hard to keep up with it. Apparently, if you’re not moving forward you’re basically dead in the business world.”

Helene’s mouth tightened. “Tell me about it. That’s partly why I’m here.”

“What other therapies have youhad done?” Rosa asked.

“Oh, loads of stuff.” Helene tried to remember all the therapies she’d ever had. “There was the angel workshop. Feng shui. Rescuing my inner child. Meeting my Guides. Reflexology. Iridology. Spiritual cleansing …”

“What did you do? That you needed your spirit cleansed?” Rosa asked suspiciously.

“Do? I didn’t do anything. That’s what the therapist was offering.”

“I’d imagine you’d have to have at least murdered someone to need your spirit cleansed.” Rosa pursed her lips.

“Well, I didn’t murder anyone!” Helene retorted. Although, she had killed off a fair few careers in her time, she thought guiltily, an image of Tess Morgan floating in front of her. “Look, I just had stuff I needed to get off my chest with the spiritual cleansing thing.”

“So why not just go to confession? Are you Catholic?”

“Eh … I don’t think that’s any of your business! Look, spiritual cleansing was just
in
at the time, all right?”

“I should learn about that too then. What about Cosmic Ordering? That’s the latest, according to my psychic network group.”

“You can do Cosmic Ordering?” Helene felt a flutter of excitement. She could order the Universe to make her the outright winner of
It’s My Show
. She would become super-famous and Richard would be raging that he hadn’t believed in her when he’d had the chance.

“I’m studying it,” Rosa said. “What is it you want to order?”

“I want to win
It’s My Show
– that’s a competition Atlantic 1FM is running,” Helene said without hesitation.

“Right. Well, I don’t actually know how to do Cosmic Ordering yet.” Rosa shuffled her tarot cards and looked at Helene shrewdly. “But I believe you can only wish for something which is for the greater good. You can’t wish ill on your enemies, for instance.” Her eyes brightened. “Oh yes – and you need to say what you want to happen in the present tense, as if it’s already happened.”

“Like ‘
Yes, yes, yes, I’m a millionaire-ess
’?” Helene asked tersely. “I’ve tried that already – it didn’t work.”

“Well, I think you have to really
believe
it before it can work. But, as I’ve explained, it’s not my specialist subject.” Rosa leaned towards Helene. “Look, to be honest, I
am
aiming to diversify into the new therapies but at the moment I am more comfortable with the more traditional fortune-telling techniques. Tarot and tea leaves. I think the tarot would suit your listeners best. They phone in, I concentrate on their energies over the airwaves and choose their cards on the basis of that. For example,” she gave the cards one more shuffle, and fanned them out in front of Helene, “pick nine cards.”

Helene chose the cards, feeling silly and nervous at the same time, and watched as Rosa arranged them in the shape of a cross and scrutinised them in silence for several seconds. Finally she spoke.

“I can see here you’re going through quite a difficult time in your life right now.”

Helene craned her neck to see more of the colourful cards. “That’s true.”

“This one,” Grandma Rosa tapped firmly on one, “is telling me you’re facing a big crossroads in your life. And this one,” she patted another, “tells me there’s someone who may be deceiving you. What they say is not necessarily what they mean.”

Helene frowned. She didn’t think Richard was untrustworthy, but that’s what the woman seemed to be insinuating. Maybe she should find a proper New Age therapist, one who did know about Cosmic Ordering and chakras? She noticed Rosa’s eyes widening slightly as they lit on another card.

“What?” Helene demanded, leaning over to try and see the card more clearly.

“It’s to do with a man in your life. There’s something that’s not being said between you. Something you are keeping from one another. Are you torn between two lovers by any chance?”

Helene blinked. Suddenly she had an urge to spill out the whole sorry story of her and Richard to this woman with the unconventional dress sense and kind eyes. But it would be hard for even Helene’s best friend – if she had a best friend – to understand the exquisite nuances of her and Richard’s love affair, never mind a complete stranger who didn’t know the first thing about either of them.

“Look, if I need to consider you for a slot, you’ll need to tell me something I don’t know already,” Helene said bluntly.

Grandma Rosa looked at her levelly. “Actually, I think I can. I wasn’t sure how much to reveal because it’s your first time here. But if it’s what you want.” She waved one of the cards around in the air. “This card here, Helene. It’s the Empress. It signifies fertility and motherhood. Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean a baby. It could be telling you that you need to nurture your own inner self. But tell me – could you by any chance be pregnant?”

“What?” Helene spluttered out her tea and watched in dismay as the lukewarm liquid splashed onto her yellow silk blouse, spreading an ugly tan stain over the delicate material. She grabbed a tissue from her bag and dabbed ineffectually at her blouse, her mind mentally calculating dates.

There was that time when she’d come off the pill for a little while, “to give my body a rest,” as she’d explained to Richard. His reaction had been swift and involved a bulk buy of condoms, so Helene had gone back on the pill pretty quickly and had forgotten all about it. Surely it couldn’t have been then?

A vein pulsed in her temple. She thought of her recent nausea and uncharacteristic tiredness, how she’d fallen asleep when she’d come home from the spa, when she was supposed to be off wooing Tess Morgan back to work. But it was too ridiculous. Helene gave herself a mental shake. Why was she even
thinking
about giving credence to this batty old woman?

“I’m definitely not pregnant,” she announced confidently.

“Oh!” Rosa seemed disappointed. “Well, something else must be gestating for you. A new job, perhaps? A new direction in life? Whatever it is, the cards are telling me that you’ll need to harness all your reserves of strength to deal with your new situation.”

“That’s
it
!” Helene laughed out loud. “It’s the contest at work! A new job, and a new direction. Of course! That will require all my strength to deal with it, but I don’t mind that, because I am so, so ready for it!” She clasped both hands in front of her in her enthusiasm.

“Really? So tell me more about that so.” Rosa swept up the spread of cards from the table and began to shuffle them again as Helene launched into the story – Atlantic 1FM being taken over, how Jack McCabe was looking for new blood, about the relentless competition for listenership which Helene figured was now only going to intensify and, lastly, about the competition for
It’s My Show
.

“Right,” Rosa said, when Helene finally paused for breath. “Tell me, have you found in the past that no matter what you’ve achieved, you always want more?”

“Yeah – doesn’t everyone?” Helene was puzzled.

“No, actually. Some people are content with what they have,” Grandma Rosa said mildly. She tapped a card absentmindedly on the edge of the table. “These sorts of people take the time to savour their achievements instead of always looking towards their next goal. And, don’t get me wrong, because I am all for women being ambitious, but I think it would benefit you if you started taking a more relaxed approach to life because …” She broke off as a phone jangled in the air.

“That’s me, hang on a second,” Helene pulled her mobile out and breathed an audible sigh of relief. Richard! At last. “I’ll have to take this.” She turned her back slightly to Grandma Rosa.

A minute later she turned back and reached for her bag, her face wreathed in smiles.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave. That was my boyfriend. We had a bit of a tiff but he’s just told me he wants to arrange a party for my fortieth!”

“You’re forty?” Rosa looked surprised. “You don’t look it.”

“Well, that’s probably because of my
Ten Years Younger
series.” Helene was gratified, but she didn’t really want to think about that particular project right now. Sara had been researching more anti-ageing treatments but they still sounded gruesome in the extreme. Acid-based gels. Vein-zapping lasers. She didn’t even know if she wanted to try Botox any more. Not now that she’d read it was like injecting poison into your system. And when she realised that it hadn’t done Ollie’s career much good after all.

“Are you in a stable relationship with this boyfriend of yours?” Grandma Rosa asked suddenly.