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There was a ripple of excitement across the room.

“It can be read in a general sense,” she said, “or you can apply it to one aspect of your future. Many women,” she added with a smirk, “tend to interpret it as a partner.”

Several gasps and oohs erupted.

Jenn’s traitorous heart leaped a little.

Cathy Ann turned the final card over.

A tall, handsome, slightly stern figure stood with vast golden wings unfurled behind him. A pair of ancient scales hung steady in his hands, impossibly still, as if even gravity dared not tip them without his say-so. He stood barefoot on a stone dais scattered with fallen feathers and tiny mirrored stars. Behind him, a sky of molten dusk stretched out like a veil.

His jaw was strong, his body lean and honed beneath a robe of midnight trimmed in bronze. Not armour, not quite—but something ceremonial. Sacred. His gaze was calm, almost detached. Measured. Certain. Like he already knew every version of her story—and was waiting to see which one she’d choose.

At the bottom of the card, etched in soft gold script: The Winged Man.

Jenn took a large sip of fizz, mostly to give her hands something to do other than flap about like startled pigeons. Why did her brain always circle back to him? It was infuriating. For God’s sake. Not now, brain.

“This,” Cathy Ann said dramatically, “as you can see, is The Winged Man. He heralds a new phase—a rebirth. He speaks to your inner calling and urges you to follow that spark. He may also represent a man with great influence over your future. Possibly a husband.” She winked.

“He’s aloof at first, almost unreadable, as you can see—but only until you get to know him. Very steady, judging by the scales. Hopefully very handsome too. The golden wings are significant. They might represent ambition. Or that he travels often for work…”

“Like a pilot?” Abi piped up, wagging her eyebrows at Jenn.

That set off a fresh wave of squealing.

Jenn laughed, but this was feeling a little bit surreal. A little bit too close to the bone…

“Haha—well, yes, that’s one possibility,” Cathy Ann allowed, smiling. “But really, it just suggests movement. Someone who comes and goes. Jet-setting of some kind. Either way, it’s exciting. You’re leaving behind the things that once weighed you down. And if you follow your heart—well, the sky’s the limit.”

Jenn blinked.

She’d never had a reading like that before. Sure, she’d done the usual teenage tarot nights and twenty-something hen do nonsense. But this? This one landed somewhere deeper. Maybe it helped that Cathy Ann was her friend. But still. She was trying very hard not to think about that last card.

A bloody pilot, for God’s sake. That was bad enough, but her mind betrayed her—flashing to that quiet gaze, the warm weight of his hand when he’d helped her up into the hold. Ugh. Not helpful.

Abigail was such a shit-stirrer. Except… annoyingly, the bloody tarot cards seemed to agree with her.

“Thank you so much, Cathy Ann. That was really… wow. Interesting. I’ve never had a reading like that before.”

“Just think—we totally have to set you up with Enrique now!” Màiri squealed.

“Yes!” Mairead and Abi shouted.

“Màiri! You’re like a woman possessed,” Jenn said, shaking her head. “And don’t even start, you two,” she added, wagging her finger at Mairead and Abigail. “In fact, Màiri—you should be next. Or Mairead.”

“Oh, I am totally next, if that’s okay,” Màiri said, already plopping herself across from Cathy Ann, who began to reshuffle.

Well, Jenn thought, I’m definitely on an adventure—that much is certain.

Chapter 13

About an hour later, most of them had made it to Saints Bay. The streets were still buzzing, with crowds in yellow flower garlands drifting between the pub and the square. Most of the younger children and their parents had long gone, and the teens were peeling off to various beach parties. Several of the girls had gone home too—to get to their families, stumble to bed, or prep for work tomorrow. One of them had a full B&B to manage in the morning. Jenn didn’t envy her the morning-after breakfasts ahead.

The Ghillie Dhu was in full swing. Not much had changed since Jenn’s last extremely blurry visit years ago. The dark green walls were still lined with gold-framed paintings of Hellisay’s mountains, beaches, and harbours, and the horseshoe bar gleamed under warm lighting. A mix of booths and mismatched tables filled the space, leaving a clear floor in front of the raised stage for dancing. And dance they did.

Tonight, The Gambler was playing—a local guy in his sixties, decent enough at guitar, but somehow charismatic when he performed. He had a twinkle in his eye, a cheeky grin, and a sixth sense for picking the exact song to get people up onto the dance floor. Right now, he was belting out Stuck in the Middle with You. He spotted their group as they entered and gave them a wink. Cathy Ann blushed crimson.

Well now. That was interesting. It sparked a round of drunken teasing that left Cathy Ann swatting them all away like flies.