Chapter 42
Claudia was proud of Damien. The lost soul who’d tried to end his life, fired by unrequited love, had come back from limbo.
However, thus far, even though he’d found his feet, it was difficult to steer him in the right direction.
He’d been scared of his past, hardly letting Claudia scratch the surface.
The questions he’d asked the cards were trivial. None that would yield answers that could illuminate his future. But this time she had a feeling that it would be different.
‘Well, Damien,’ Claudia said, ‘what question would you like to ask first?’
‘Will I find someone with whom to share my life?’ he replied.
‘Cut the cards and choose one,’ she said.
Damien sliced the deck and with a nimble flick extended one to Claudia.
‘The Page of Wands,’ she said. ‘It’s an interesting answer. The studious youth of the pack. Court cards represent characteristics and can be any age or sex. This person could be studying or learning something.’
Ruby flashed through his mind. The stunning student he’d met at the Cheltenham Literary Festival. ‘How and where shall I meet her?’ he asked.
Don’t count your chickens , said the Voice. Who knows, it could be a bloke?
‘Pull another card,’ Claudia said.
Damien, eyes wide and focused, hovered his index finger over the pack.
Why are you hesitating? said the Voice. It ’s all written in the stars.
He flipped a card.
‘Three of Wands,’ said Claudia. ‘That’s interesting. They may come from overseas and meet you here, or you might connect with them if you travel abroad. It’s the card of the Exodus – looking further afield.’
‘Well, that’s a step in the right direction,’ Damien said.
He thought of Ariana. He wished it could be her. She’d sent him a beautiful leather-bound notebook from America after they’d worked together, and inside, she’d written, Write for me and I will sing for you.
For goodness’ sake, have you lost your mind? the Voice said. Just because she’s asking you to give her more material doesn’t mean she loves you. Now let’s get on with the reading.
‘May I ask another question?’ Damien said.
‘Go ahead,’ Claudia replied.
‘The truth is, I need to lay my relationship with Laura to rest so I can move on. Can you help me with this?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘So what’s the question?’
Why are you going there? You really are a masochist , said the Voice.
Damien hesitated. No, damn the Voice, he was going to ask.
‘Okay, Claudia… The question is… did Laura really love me or was it a lie?’ He pulled a card and flipped it over.
‘Ah, Judgement,’ Claudia said. ‘The wake-up call and rebirth. Can you see the people coming out of their coffins? A new dawn. This is a great card and shows absolute clarity.’
Damien’s mouth was dry. He poured himself a glass of water and took a sip. ‘But I don’t have clarity. There’s no direct answer to my question. Laura’s past is still a mystery to me, and I can’t find peace until I know the truth .’ He spat the words into the air and banged his thigh with his fist.
Steady on, don’t be so dramatic , said the Voice. No need to frighten away the pigeons .
Damien laughed to himself.
‘Well, it should all be clear very soon. Let’s move on,’ Claudia said. ‘Pull another card to see what happens next.’
Damien ran his hands over the deck, trying to see if one would “speak” to him.
‘This is so difficult.’ He sighed. ‘It’s like Russian roulette. Could be that I’m going to shoot myself in the head.’
Come on. Don’t keep the lady waiting , ordered the Voice.
‘Just pull any card,’ Claudia directed. ‘The right one will find you.’
Damien handed her another, face down.
‘There you are,’ she said, turning it over. ‘The Ace of Swords. That’s the card of pure truth and logic. Cutting the negativity out of your life. Clarity will come to you.’
Good, we’re on the right road , said the Voice. Don’t stop now. Keep on going .
‘One more question?’
‘Yes,’ Claudia replied.
‘How can I stop being in disastrous relationships?’
That’s good , said the Voice . Right to the point.
‘The fact that you’re asking the question shows you’re ready to have an honest and mutually fulfilling connection,’ Claudia replied. ‘Now, pull a card for your past.’
Damien drew one from the deck.
‘The Devil!’ she said. ‘You love drama and passion. Lust and temptation. The card signals addictive behaviour and co-dependency. The sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll. Quite frankly, you’ve a history of sadomasochistic relationships. Now, choose a card for the present.’
He was quick to take one. Best not to dwell on the past.
Yes, that’s it – let’s bury the Devil , said the Voice. Here’s your chance to sort out what you really need, not just what you want.
‘Six of Cups, much healthier. Now you understand what makes you happy. What you need is loving companionship. Possibly with someone you’ve known for a while, or maybe a person with whom you feel a connection from a past life experience.’
‘Will I be happy?’ Damien asked wistfully.
Those soulful eyes searching for answers.
This Damien would melt most women , Claudia thought to herself.
‘I want you to pull one last card,’ she said.
Damien was ready to take what he was given. Follow the path that destiny had dealt him. For a moment, he stroked his chosen card with the tip of his finger. He turned it over.
‘Ten of Pentacles. There you have it,’ Claudia said. ‘This is the completion of the family – roots, belonging, security and harmony. Maybe you’ll find a connection with someone related to your past, extended family, that will bring you happiness and stability. This is a lovely card for meaningful relationships.’
He really didn’t care who came and from where.
What he did know was that someone would bring him happiness. Claudia had shone the light. Opened up his mind, given him hope.
***
However, Damien was lonely. No one to deflect his obsession with mortality in the wee hours. Only the Voice to keep him company.
Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night, wondering whether he was dead or alive. He stretched out his arms and bent his legs, took deep breaths in from the nose, out through the mouth, placed two fingers on his wrist to check his pulse, testing the mechanics of his being.
But after the reading with Claudia, he found his anxiety had eased. He began to surrender to the night. He was ready to embrace the past, to allow himself to remember the moments that he had hitherto tried to forget.
But what if he had chosen the road not taken? What if he’d faced his demons earlier in the game?
But you didn’t. Where you are now is the only place you can be , said the Voice.
‘Maybe so. But I don’t want to live a blind life. Let me recall my past. It’s my history, my story, and I can’t just tear up the pages.’
Damien got out of bed and made himself a cup of builder’s tea, with a tiny smidgeon of milk and a spoonful of acacia honey.
He opened the larder door and took out the Fortnum & Mason tin. Half a shortbread biccie left. Why not? He sat at the wooden farmhouse table, popped it in his mouth and shut his eyes.
His beloved father materialised. It was Damien’s sixth birthday.
The image in his mind’s eye was so clear that it was almost as if his father’s spirit was with him.
‘Here you are.’ Daddy placed a large box on the Persian carpet in the grand sitting room of the sprawling family home in Highgate. ‘Let’s open it together. Aren’t you lucky to be born in the summer? Look at that clear blue sky.’ He opened the glass doors leading onto the terrace. ‘Later, we can go in the garden and have a picnic on the lawn.’
Damien beamed. Daddy kissed his cheek. ‘Where’s Mama?’ he asked.
‘She’ll be down in a minute,’ Daddy replied. ‘Poor Mummy’s got a headache. She’s resting. Now let’s get on with unwrapping your present.’
A fantastic train set. A big-boy’s one with a remote control. The carriages in red and gold.
Daddy was smiling at him, his eyes full of tender affection. And at that moment Damien knew he was truly loved.
But then, when he was seven, something terrible happened.
Damien shook his head as the images flashed through his mind.
Yes! You wanted this , said the Voice. You chose to visit your past, so don’t block it .
Damien remembered how he’d eaten his dinner and brushed his teeth, ready for bedtime. But where was Daddy? He usually came to read him a story and kiss him goodnight.
Sometimes, if she was feeling well, Mummy came too. But that evening he heard his parents shouting.
‘Don’t you tell me what to do,’ Mummy said. ‘If I want to go to France for the weekend with my girlfriends, I will. You don’t own me and what’s more I’m the one who pays the bills since you’ve been ill.’ Her shouting became screaming. ‘I’m fed up with you. I want to leave. There’s nothing left except your bloody gambling debts.’
And that was when he heard Daddy cry. He wanted to go and cuddle him, but he was scared.
‘Please, please, call the doctor,’ he heard Daddy say. ‘I’m in terrible pain. My heart hurts.’
Mummy wasn’t having any stuff and nonsense. ‘You always complain,’ she said. ‘Last time I wanted to go to Spain, you did the same thing. And, when I cancelled the trip, like magic you were better again.’
Damien hid under the sheets and, muffling his ears with a pillow, finally fell asleep.
Come the morning, Nanny woke him. ‘How’s Daddy?’ he asked her.
‘Daddy’s gone away,’ she told him.
‘When will he be back?’
‘He’s on a journey to the stars.’
But Damien knew.
‘Why?’ he cried. ‘Mummy, why did Daddy die? He wasn’t ill last week. He took me to the park on Sunday to feed the ducks. He didn’t have to go to hospital or anything. I heard you say he was pretending.’
‘I thought he was, but this morning he didn’t wake up.’
‘Oh! Daddy’s gone and I didn’t even get to say goodbye.’ Damien, drowning in his tears, gulped for air as each new wave of melancholy washed over him.
‘It’s God’s will, Damien,’ Mummy said, and gave him a hug, which surprised him. She wasn’t the touchy-feely type.
He clung to her, put his arms round her neck. How he wept.
The novelty of being cuddled by his mother gave Damien such pleasure that he kept the tears flowing.
But, after a while, Mummy had had enough.
‘Come on, Damien, be a big boy,’ she said. ‘Go and get dressed and I’ll tell Nanny to make your breakfast.’
***
The funeral took place a week later, Sunday morning. Nanny stayed with him at home. Afterwards, there was a party in the garden. The guests arrived all wearing black, which looked strange on a warm summer’s day.
‘Poor little one,’ he heard his Uncle Harry tell the vicar. ‘Hard to lose a father when you’re so young. And being an only child.’
Damien wanted to say that it was okay. He was a big boy now and as long as Mummy stayed to look after him he would be fine.
But it was Damien who left. Mummy sent him away to boarding school when he was eight.
‘It will be good for you,’ she said. ‘You’re too old for nannies and babysitters and I need my freedom. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed myself.’
***
When he came home for the Christmas hols, Mummy said, ‘Damien darling, this is Teddy. He’s going to be your new father.’
Teddy came from Scotland. Damien quite liked him. He spoke French and was very rich. So he and Mummy married and the following Christmas they all went skiing in Val d’Isère.
In truth, his life took a turn for the better. When he was thirteen, he went to Eton. It suited him. He was good at sport and clever. When he won a scholarship to Oxford, Teddy took him to Paris without Mother.
‘Now,’ his stepfather said, ‘let’s get you sorted out. None of this romantic stuff with little virgin debutantes who, as soon as you get into their knickers, expect a ring on their finger.’
They stayed at the Ritz. Henri the concierge arranged for two gorgeous women to visit their suite.
Damien was insanely happy. Anoushka, his extremely accomplished partner, led him to ecstasy without any need to reciprocate. Then, after he had gathered back his strength, she said, ‘Now, sweetie, tell me truthfully, have you had a woman before?’
‘No, to be honest,’ he replied, ‘I haven’t. Only kisses with a couple of girls at school dances. And when I went on a language trip to Brittany, I stayed with a family who had a daughter the same age as me, Amélie, and we had some fun. But we didn’t go the whole way. And she didn’t do what you did to me.’ Damien glanced at her mouth that had pleased him so.
Anoushka stroked his hair. ‘Well, then, I am delighted to be your first.’
The beautiful stranger who gave him such pleasure had never been far from his mind. How could he ever forget?
The next morning, Damien and Teddy visited the Louvre, afterwards they lunched at the splendid Le Grand Véfour, next to the gardens of the Palais Royal – a Parisienne treasure that had discreetly hosted royalty, writers, artists and politicos for more than two centuries.
‘Imagine, Damien,’ said his stepfather as the ma?tre d’ led them through the gloriously opulent eighteenth-century dining room, ‘Napoleon proposed to Joséphine here, and this is where Colette held court.’ Teddy paused at a corner table and pointed to a little bronze disc engraved with her name on the burgundy velvet banquette.
‘Well, my dear fellow,’ he said as they settled themselves at the adjacent table, ‘look at your plaque – Emile Zola, no less.’
‘If only I had his genius,’ Damien said. ‘Perhaps he’ll call me from the grave. Give me some writing tips.’
Nana the man-eater , he thought. One of my favourite characters destroyed every man she met. But she must have been amazing in bed.
Damien gazed around the golden room, with its mirrored walls and glass pillars painted with classical figures, at the ornate gilded empire furnishings, and for a moment imagined himself dining next to Nana, who looked surprisingly like Anoushka, her plump breasts overflowing in a red velvet bodice, one hand between his legs and the other slipping a succulent oyster into his mouth.
The waiter coughed discreetly.
‘Damien,’ Teddy whispered, ‘wake up. What would you like to eat?’
For the starter, like his stepfather, he chose the ravioles de foie gras , splashed with a froth of truffle cream. To anchor the rich flavour, a small leaf of Savoy cabbage added to the sumptuous little packets of decadence, accompanied by a half-bottle of Chateau Rieussec, an elegantly sweet Sauternes.
‘Ah,’ Damien gasped, biting into the buttery perfection, ‘my education is complete.’
Teddy raised his glass of wine. ‘A toast to manhood,’ he said, ‘and so much better to be initiated by a professional,’ he added with a rakish smile.
A few years later, Teddy and his mother were killed in a car crash, en route to Monte Carlo.
But for all the bonhomie Damien had shared with his stepfather he would have gladly swapped it for a kinder mother.
He shut his eyes again. Laura came to mind, eclipsing any happy thoughts of Paris.
Get over it, Damien , said the Voice. Let’s face it, she wanted a no-holds-barred, free sex wrestle. A tussle with muscle. And that’s that. Must have, can’t have. The story of your life. Always looking for someone to leave you. Just like Mummy did.
‘Okay, okay. How many times do you have to say it?’ Damien said.
Until you find the mother inside yourself , said the Voice.