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‘You did ask,’ said Sabrina, loading up her fork with more of her cheesecake.
Teddy looked over at the working area. He’d been thinking himself that they should either block it off completely or open it up for the reason she’d said, that it was neither one thing nor the other, but he couldn’t decide which way to go.
They ate in silence for a minute or so and then Sabrina said, ‘I really hope I find something out tonight. Maybe a few details will make everything else just fall into place. And, trust me, if I were you, I would find it very hard to believe me too.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Teddy. ‘My mother’s heart is too big for her body. She’s really helped some people but not everyone has been so kind to her in return. One time she didn’t realise her card had been cloned until the bank contacted her to check if she was in Spain or not. Then she let someone stay just for a night but they took the TV from the flat and ran off with it. After that last time, when her house was trashed, I told her that enough was enough.’
‘It’s not things I’m after, Teddy, it’s memories – my own,’ said Sabrina, hoping she sounded convincing. She did, butstill, where his mother was concerned, Teddy wouldn’t be letting his guard fully down yet.
‘Do you think I look all right?’ asked Sabrina later. She had a pair of black jeans on, her trainers and a white T-shirt. She’d bought some cheap mascara and lipstick from a bargain store in Shoresend which made the best of her light brown eyes and full lips. She’d left her hair down for once and it lent her a softness to her face that the practical ponytail she wore for work didn’t.
‘You look more than all right.’ And she did, thought Marielle. Why wasn’t someone doing everything they could to find this woman? ‘We’ll get off in a minute, shall we?’ She went over to the drawers in the dresser, opening one after the other.
‘Have you lost something?’ asked Sabrina.
‘It’ll turn up,’ replied Marielle, abandoning the search after noticing the time. She couldn’t find her purse. It was always in her handbag. She’d had it with her on Friday to pay for the fish and chips but when she came home, she remembered distinctly that she’d taken fifteen pounds out of it to pin on the noticeboard in readiness for the window cleaner’s due visit. She hadn’t been out since so it must be in the house somewhere.
She’d have a good look round later; she was sure she’d find it but still, it was odd that it wasn’t where it always was.
Slattercove Theatre was a building of faded grandeur and had kept all of its original features, though Sabrina thought that people in the last century must have had smaller bums because the red velvet seats were snug and leg room between rows was sadly lacking. They had the two end seats in themiddle section, six rows from the front, which had a good view of the stage. Psychic Pat was obviously very popular because when people began to pour in after the three-minute warning had been given in the bar, there weren’t many empty seats.
The stage was set with a leather Chesterfield chair, a small wine table at the side with a glass and a jug of water on it, and all along the back, large drop-down posters featuring pictures of a short, round woman in pink with vaguely recognisable celebrities.
The lights dimmed and a disembodied voice broke over the speakers.
‘Ladies and gentleman, please make sure your mobile phones are switched off and in your bags as Slattercove Theatre proudly welcomes the world-renowned, the one and only… Psychic Pat.’
To tumultuous applause, a short round Weeble of a woman in a glittery pink kaftan entered stage right. She was wearing a Madonna mike so she could use both hands for gesticulating. Her nails were long as eagle talons and painted in a shade of fluorescent pink that could be seen from Mars.
Pat used to work on one-to-ones, asking people to hold a crystal ball, press their essence into it so she could pick it up and work with it. She’d always been very good at reading people, telling them generalisations that were open to much interpretation, until she’d had a bang on the head in a freak accident. As if a door to real psychic abilities had been broken down in the process, she found that she really could tune into the spirit world and interact with those who no longer existed on the physical plane. Her readings shifted from the ‘one size fits all’ to the tailored, and her popularity ballooned as a result. She no longer operated from her pink front roombut in theatres all around the country where she was, more often than not, a total sell-out.
‘Welcome, loveys,’ said Pat in a voice that was pure Vera Duckworth. If she ever made it to a Vegas stage, they’d need a translator on hand. ‘Now the way I work is quite simple. Spirits are here, and they know you’re here because they follow you around, so that’s nice, isn’t it? And if I come to you they need to hear your voice so they know you’re interacting. No nods, no “mmms”; a nice clear voice. That all right, loveys? I said, IS THAT ALL RIGHT, LOVEYS?’
The audience returned a resounding and sibilant YESSS.
‘I can only tell you what they tell me and they sometimes aren’t as clear as they could be, so if something doesn’t make sense, take it away with you and think about it, all right? They can be a bit cryptic and your guess is as good as mine why that is. Now…’ Pat went to the far right of the stage. ‘You there in that flowery top. Does the name Steve mean anything to you?’
‘He’s our window cleaner,’ came the reply, which caused a titter to ripple across the room.
‘It’s not him. He’s closer to you than that,’ Pat snapped. She would not have her gift rubbished, though plenty of smart-arses had a go. ‘He’s a man who liked a pie. A pork pie, he’s saying. Lots of brown sauce and—’
A gasp. ‘Oh my god, it’s my uncle. But we always called him Uncle Steph, because it was spelt with a ph and not a v.’
‘He’s been in spirit a long time, hasn’t he? He’s sending you love and he’s saying don’t worry about your mum. That’s his sister, isn’t it. He says, he’s not coming for her yet.’
A gasp from flowery top.
‘Oh and are you redecorating your front room?’
‘Yes.’ A sniffle now.
‘He said don’t go for the stripy one, go for the bright colours.’
‘Oh my god, we couldn’t decide.’
‘Can I leave you with that then, lovey?’
There was a ripple of applause. Pat moved her attention to the back.
