Chapter 30
30
ELENA
Gayle gave a small laugh. ‘Don’t look at me like that, love. It was only matter of time…’ They sat in silence for a moment and her face became more serious. ‘You… you changed, subtly, after that night. You were subdued and started checking that things were safe, more closely than ever.’
Rory frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Gayle talked about how Don and Mel were very proud of the fact that Elena was such a sensible child. Even before that night, she’d check her windows at bedtime and never once let a bath or sink overflow. Her alarm was always set to the right time. Her parents never had to wake her up for school. ‘If we baked together, it was Elena who checked that the hob was turned off. That’s why I’d been so surprised to discover a careful child like that had snuck out at night. In the weeks following the accident, your parents and I became concerned about the checking. Sometimes you were late for school, because you’d nip back home to check you’d turned off the taps in the bathroom, and you’d check the hob more than once when you were around at mine. ’
‘I snuck out to the common often, in the summer,’ Elena said, and a sheepish look crossed her face. ‘I loved reading adventure stories and thought I’d have one too – as well as lots of fun with Bumper. Although that night it was because I could hardly breathe, what with Mum. I’d hoped the chilly air would help.’
‘You stopped playing with Bumper after what happened though. I asked you about it once. You said black cats were bad luck. Then around at mine, one time, you were playing with my make-up and dropped my hand mirror. You were inconsolable when it cracked and said that meant seven years bad luck. It was as if spending time with that fortune teller had made you very superstitious. You told your parents it was bad luck that your house number was thirteen and tried to persuade them to move.’
Rory listened intently.
Elena’s ears burned. ‘A silly childhood phase.’
‘And…’ Gayle swallowed. ‘Things were never quite the same between us.’
‘You felt it too?’ Elena raised her eyebrows. ‘I… I think I wanted to simply forget everything about that night.’
‘I always wondered, as you got older, you’ – her voice became unsteady – ‘you must have lost respect for me, not telling your mum and dad that you’d slipped out whilst I was supposed to be looking after you.’
‘Elena told me what happened,’ said Rory in a gentle voice. ‘Sounds as if you did what you could to protect Elena’s parents from even more upset at the time.’
‘That’s what I’ve always thought,’ said Elena. She reached forwards and squeezed Gayle’s arm.
‘I did mention you slipping out for a wander a couple of months later on, you know. It did worry me. Once your mum’s health scare settled right down, I told your parents that I’d seen you, out the back, near the common one night. I kept it vague. Your mum’s health was still a little fragile.’
That explained why, six months or so after making the promise, Mum and Dad had adopted a new policy of setting the burglar alarm after dinner, so that if an outside door was opened it would go off. Elena hadn’t realised that was to do with her.
‘What happened that night, love?’
Elena glanced at Rory and he gave her an encouraging smile. ‘The woman who brought me to the door, the fortune teller… I met her on the common. She was sleeping there, in a tent, after the last night of the fair, and… and…’
‘Go on,’ murmured Gayle, gently.
‘She had her crystal ball and… we…’ Elena clenched her hands together. ‘I made a pact so that Mum would live. Then that night Mum made a miracle recovery, at midnight too,’ she continued. ‘I remember that particular time on the clock as being important. No idea why.’
Elena hardly dared meet Gayle’s eyes, aware of how ludicrous it must have sounded. The guilt flooded back around how Elena had been selfish, risking dark forces causing consequences. As a little girl, she’d fret that meant her mum would go to some hellish place when she eventually passed, penance for going against the laws of nature and not dying when she should have – simply because Elena had been too weak to let her go. A hell with devils and demons, with fire and thunder, with torture and screaming… On a good day, she dismissed this theory, telling herself she’d done the right thing; that the only sacrifice would be Elena dying at thirty; that her mum was safe.
‘You avoided oral cancer because of what that woman said,’ she continued. ‘Lucy’s gran won on the lottery – the fortune teller had talked to her about seeing big money in her life. All of these things confirmed what I already knew – that the promise I’d made on the common, that night, would also come true. But the… the agreement I made with her has haunted me ever since and, once and for all, I want to get to face it head on. I want to meet this woman again.’
Rory lay his hand over Elena’s.
‘That night must have been very frightening,’ said Gayle. Red blotches appeared on her cheeks. ‘I wish you’d told me at the time, love. What person makes some deal with a ten-year-old child?’
‘Exactly what I thought,’ muttered Rory.
‘You don’t think I imagined it?’
‘You were never giddy or scatter-brained, even when you were little. This pact… was it something bad?’
A life for a life? Yes and no. Elena didn’t want to worry Gayle. ‘It’s just something I need closure on… Probably to do with the fact I’m coming up to thirty, the same age Mum was when she almost died.’
‘Understandable.’
‘What was the woman like?’ asked Rory. His voice had a hard edge to it.
‘She seemed kind,’ said Gayle. ‘But now I’m questioning that…’
‘The card, the king of hearts… Any idea why she gave that to me?’ asked Elena.
Gayle shook her head. ‘No. She just said it would be important to you one day. But the card makes sense – whereas one part of your story doesn’t. The fortune teller at that fair definitely didn’t have a crystal ball. I remember distinctly that her talent was reading cards. That’s playing cards, not tarot. It’s called cartomancy.’
Elena knew what she’d seen. There definitely had been a crystal ball .
‘After I shut the front door that night,’ continued Gayle, ‘after you’d gone to bed, memories came back. I’d see her at the fair every year, laying the cards out on a table. She always struck me as a down-to-earth sort.’
‘Any idea of this woman’s name or how I find her?’ asked Elena. ‘I’ve searched online under the words “touring Christmas Fair” and “touring fortune teller”, but nothing concrete came up. There are so many fairs, across the UK, at that time of year. I’ve never felt able to talk to Mum and Dad about it. When I was younger I was too scared to go to the fair again, in case I saw her and she called in the promise early that I’d made to do with our pact. Then the common was sold to property developers and the fair didn’t come back.’
‘No idea what she’s called, sorry, love. Her accent was Scottish; perhaps she comes from the Highlands.’
Scottish? Of course. That explained why, over the years, Scottish TV shows made her uncomfortable. The hint of a Scottish accent spooked her out. It wasn’t an accent thing – she loved listening to voices that were different to hers, like Diego’s. It was because the sound made her afraid for no apparent reason.
‘I do know the fair’s owner was called Jimmy. When you were a toddler, there’d been a big hoo-ha because a child went missing at the Christmas fair. The police were involved. Turned out the boy had been hiding under his bed all along. The story might be on the internet still. If it helps, it was a fair that toured the northwest only. Alf got talking to Jimmy once. We’d gone to look for Christmas gifts. The fair kicked off in the middle of November. Six weeks, six towns. Jimmy would pick them from near the cities – Manchester, Liverpool, Newcastle… It went as far north as Edinburgh, I think. If you get his surname, you might be able to track him down. He could know what ha ppened to the fortune teller, because of course it’s possible that she isn’t still…’
‘This is really useful,’ said Rory, swiftly.
‘Thanks so much,’ said Elena. ‘You’ve given me a lot to think about, Auntie Gayle.’ The two women looked at each other and Elena went over and gave her a hug. ‘You really helped Mum and Dad out all those years, babysitting,’ she said quietly. ‘I loved coming round here. It was like a second home, like a safe haven during those years I had a difficult time at primary school.’
‘You were – still are – like the daughter I’d never had. I wanted to go into your class myself, to sort out those bullies.’
‘You were bullied?’ asked Rory in astonishment.
Gayle blushed. ‘Sorry, Elena. Hope I haven’t said too much.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ Elena turned to Rory. ‘I was bullied because I had a slight speech impediment. Eventually we got a new headteacher and she took my ordeal seriously in a way the other head hadn’t. And I grew out of the lisp.’
‘Your mum and dad were so worried at how withdrawn you’d become, some days,’ said Gayle. ‘You’d come round to do drawing and I’d stick your pictures on the fridge. I’ve still got one somewhere, of Alf in his overalls.’ Gayle delved into her pocket and pulled out her phone. ‘Why don’t the three of us get onto this straightaway? I’m going to search for “Missing child found, Christmas fair, Bridgwich” … I’m not sure of the exact year.’
Rory and Elena did the same.
‘Bingo!’ said Gayle as she clicked on a tabloid article. ‘That was easy.’
The other two agreed. Elena scoured the article she’d found in a local paper. The other two read articles from the nationals.
‘It was 1997,’ said Rory. ‘No mention of Jimmy in the article I’m reading, though.’
‘Nor in mine,’ said Gayle .
‘Nothing here either, in the Manchester Evening News ,’ said Elena. ‘Only a mention of the police having interviewed the stall holders and the fair’s owner.’
‘But that local piece does mention the fair’s name, in small italics, under that photo of the stalls,’ said Rory. ‘Fletcher’s Fair.’
‘Fletcher must be his surname then!’ said Gayle.
Elena’s hand shook as she googled Fletcher’s Fair. A website came up! A photo of Jimmy! Oh, but it hadn’t been updated for years. ‘There is a contact email address,’ she said. ‘It’s worth a shot. Looks like a personal one. He might still use it, even if he’s closed or sold the business.’ She beamed at Gayle. ‘This is a great start. You’re a superstar. I’m one step nearer to getting answers.’
Gayle’s cheeks glowed as the three of them explored the website and spotted a couple of photos on the gallery page of Bridgwich Common. She made another coffee and insisted on putting together a plate of sandwiches. They trawled the internet once more, looking for Jimmy on social media, but didn’t come across any profiles that fitted.
Rory wiped his mouth and stood up. ‘Right. Loft ahoy! Let’s get that Christmas tree down.’
‘I’m having a birthday party next week,’ said Elena, looking at Rory. He winked. ‘I’d love it if you came, Gayle.’
She pushed herself up from the armchair and her eyes shone. ‘Fantastic! I don’t get much opportunity to wear my party dresses these days. Count me in. I’ll get my hair done. Right. Enough of the detective work, then. Let’s go find my Alf’s pal, Skinny Gingy.’