Chapter 17
The incense was so thick I could taste it, which wasn’t great as it was some sort of patchouli-sandalwood hybrid that reminded me of Amina’s flat at university.
She’d got the flat cheap because there was no kitchen, just a kettle and a camping ring on top of a chest of drawers.
Food hadn’t been a focus of her life back then.
Sage was clearly doing well with her business, as she now lived on a very fancy road where everyone had renovated their Victorian properties with the kind of aggressive enthusiasm that suggested they were competing to see who could cram the most skylights into one building.
The room we were in looked out over a beautifully manicured back garden.
Crystals of all shapes and sizes littered every surface, and there were enough candles to pose a serious fire risk.
“How have you been since I last saw you?” Sage asked. “You had a lot of decisions to make. Did you make them?” We both sat on her very squishy sofas.
I nodded. “I did. And you were right. A woman with blonde hair from my past did come back to help me.”
She shook her head. “I had nothing to do with it. I’m just the mouthpiece.” She gave a measured smile, but her gaze penetrated me.
I gulped.
Then, just as quickly as we sat, she jumped up. “You want tea or coffee? I’m going to make a strong pot if you’re interested?” She nodded towards the door. “Follow me to the kitchen?”
I did as I was told.
Where the room we’d just left had been what I expected from a medium’s home, her kitchen-diner was anything but.
This room was all sleek marble worktops, shiny chrome appliances and her fridge had a TV in the door.
Light streamed in through the bifold doors, and a deck stretched out to the lawn I’d seen from upstairs.
She saw me looking and smiled. “I don’t normally bring clients in here, but you’re not just any client. Katy loves this room, so we do all our sessions in here.” She pointed at her art-deco cabinet handles. “She even copied my handles for her kitchen.”
Now I looked closer, I could see that was true.
“Somehow, people think mediums drink kombucha, or that mushroom stuff that pretends to be coffee. But I like the strong stuff just like the next person.” With that, she filled her machine and set a pot to brew, before putting a hand on her hip and staring at me.
“I take it you’re back at Voss since I last saw you? ”
I nodded. I didn’t want to tell her too much, because I didn’t trust she wasn’t pumping me for information. However, it wasn’t Sage who’d arranged this meeting.
“I am. Aunt Margot gave me six months to prove myself. And Eliza Carpenter is along for the ride.”
Recognition flooded Sage’s face. “Last I heard, she was busy doing her dad’s dirty work.”
Something tightened in my chest. However, all Eliza had done so far was encourage my instincts. She was on my side.
“She’s good.” Especially when she’s kissing me. “She’s being really helpful, which is great.”
Sage nodded. “I always liked Eliza. She had good energy.”
What did she think about my energy?
Sage hadn’t been lying about her coffee preferences. The cup she poured me made my eyeballs ache, but in a good way. We walked back to the first room, and settled onto the sofas.
“I take it this isn’t a social call. What can I do for you?”
I blew out a long breath. “I know I can’t ask specific questions, but I want to know if I’m going about things the right way.”
Like, is kissing my business partner a smart move?
However, I didn’t ask that, because I was pretty sure I already knew the answer.
“Is my current promotional idea going to work out? Should I trust Margot?” After what Sage had just said, I also wanted to ask if I should trust Eliza. But I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth.
“You know I can’t tell you that.” Sage took a sip of her coffee, then put it back on her wooden coffee table. “Also, you’re a bundle of frenetic nerves, so you’re probably blocking any activity. You need to relax.”
Easier said than done. I rolled my shoulders, a familiar mixture of scepticism and hope coursing through me.
I had to have faith, that’s what she was telling me.
Just like Amina had told me in the pub last week.
I had more belief in myself since I started therapy, but believing and trusting other people was still a flaw I needed to fix.
That included Sage, my family, my friends, and even my dead family.
Also, Eliza. But for now, I put her to the back of my mind.
“Have you heard from my family recently? Has anyone told you anything?”
Sage gave me a slow smile. “When people speak to me, they don’t exactly turn up with bullet-pointed advice lists.”
She got up and pulled something from the shelves. A pack of tarot cards. She held them up. “How about we do a reading to help you focus?” Sage set the cards down, her gaze never leaving my face.
When she studied a spot behind me, I turned and jumped, half-expecting to see my mother materialising between the crystals, probably with her arms crossed and about to give me a lecture about the importance of inbox zero.
“Try to calm down. Take some deep breaths for me.”
Sage demonstrated, and I followed. I was tightly wound, but who could blame me? I was just about to share a tent with Eliza, and I didn’t know if, when it came to it, Roka would actually sign on the dotted line. Everything was balanced on a knife’s edge, and I had no idea which way it would all go.
Sage shuffled the deck, then handed the cards over. “Pick three for me, and lay them face down.”
As I did so, nostalgia swept through me. We’d done this exact thing at uni parties, tarot being Sage’s party trick. Then, I thought it was just a fun thing to do. I don’t think even she thought she could work it up into a business.
“Remember doing this at Faye Hartley’s party?” I asked.
Sage glanced up, then nodded. “I do. That party freaked me out. We did a Ouija board afterwards, and I had so many spirits talking to me, I thought I was going mad. I stepped away from it afterwards, but then I realised, it’s a gift, not a curse.
But it took me a fair few years before I acknowledged that. ”
I nodded. I guessed it would be weird.
She flipped the first card, which showed a figure hanging upside down from a tree, looking oddly peaceful despite their precarious position. I had a vague memory of this card from our uni sessions, though I could never quite grasp what any of them were supposed to mean back then either.
The second card made my stomach clench. A figure lay beneath ten swords, blood pooling around them under a dark sky. It looked like a medieval massacre.
The third card was slightly less apocalyptic. It showed a woman in flowing robes pouring water between two cups, mountains rising behind her in the distance.
“Okay.” Sage tapped the first card with a silver-ringed finger. “The Hanged Man. This is about suspension, waiting, seeing things from a different perspective. Something you want might require you to let go of control.”
“Could you be more specific? That could apply to anything in my life.”
But Sage simply moved to the second card. “Ten of Swords. This looks dramatic, but it’s actually about endings that lead to new beginnings. Betrayal, yes, but also the kind of rock-bottom that forces you to rebuild something better.”
Was I there already, or was this in my future?
“And the last one?”
“Temperance,” Sage replied. “Balance, patience, the blending of opposing forces into something harmonious. But it requires careful timing and a willingness to trust the process.”
I stared at the cards, feeling like they were mocking me with their cryptic symbolism. “What does that actually mean for my life? You used to be much more specific at university.”
“That was different. Those were party tricks with cheap wine.” Sage’s expression grew more serious. “This depends on what questions you were really asking when you laid them out. But only you know that. The cards give guidance, but they can’t control how you act.”
I drained my coffee, and sat back, feeling even more confused than when I’d arrived. I knew my questions were fuzzy, which is why the answers mirrored that.
“Do you think I can trust Eliza?”
I couldn’t quite believe I’d said that out loud. But I couldn’t take the words back.
Sage didn’t flinch. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what you think that counts.”
But then her eyes got wider, and her movements slowed. She held up a hand. “Hang on, I’m getting something.”
Cold washed over me, and every hair on my body stood to attention. I looked around again, but knew I wasn’t going to see anything. However, I swear the temperature went up a notch as a weird energy wrapped its arms around me.
“Are they here?” My voice was hardly audible.
Sage didn’t look at me, but gave a slight nod.
“An older lady is here. She’s wearing a blue coat.”
My gran. She loved that coat. My throat went dry and I couldn’t speak.
“She’s saying to trust your instincts. But you should also trust others, too. She’s telling me that people are generally good in the world.”
My gran was always optimistic. My mum, on the other hand, would probably tell me the opposite.
I sat forward, my heart thumping against my chest wall. “Anything else?” I looked around, desperate for a physical sign. The window opposite was open, and right at that moment, a feather blew in.
My mum loved feathers. All her cushions and pillows were feather. Was that clutching at straws? Maybe, but it felt like something.
“She says Voss Watches is in good hands.”
“With me or with Margot?” I needed specifics.
But then, just as quickly as they’d arrived, they went away again. I could see it in Sage’s movements as her shoulders relaxed, and she leaned back on the sofa.
“I know you have trouble believing. Unlike Katy. But if you try, you’ll get more back.
If you don’t believe, you block the pathways.
Resistance isn’t good here. Try to be a bit more open.
” She looked me direct in the eye. “That’s a good motto for life.
Go after what you want, trust your gut. The spirits aren’t here to tell you what to do.
They’re here to shine a light on something you already knew. ”
“Apart from the scone recipe.”
Sage blew out a sharp breath, then grinned. “Apart from that.”
I checked my watch. “I should go. I’m off to a festival with Eliza this weekend. We’ve got a big deal we’re hoping to close on.”
I wasn’t sure exactly which big deal I was referring to.
“But I’ll come and see you again soon.”
“I know you will,” Sage told me.