A Vision of Green (Florence Vaine #2) (13 page)


Welcome, welcome. So this is the little Empath we've all been hearing about,” says Bill in a loud and slightly obnoxious voice. “Come along then, tell me what I'm feeling,” he continues, a note of challenge in his tone. I'm taken aback by his aggression, but I look at his aura anyway. He thinks I'm faking it, that's the very first thing I pick out. He's irritated that some lying teenage girl has the gall to think she can turn up to his psychic night and try to steal his limelight. All of this I interpret from the big brown and grey splash of defensiveness and jealousy that lingers right over his shoulders, like a shadowy cape.

I take a step closer to him and smile blandly, before telling him in a very quiet voice, “I don't think you want me to reveal to e-e-everyone what you're feeling right in this moment, Bill.”

His face turns angry, but he quickly disguises it and smiles back at me just as blandly. He laughs and claps me on the shoulder. “Well played, we'll see what you can really do later on.”

Lucinda steps forward with a massive grin, and at least
her
welcome is genuine. “I'm so glad you could come Florence, Hayley has told us so much about you. I'm really looking forward to seeing you do your first reading tonight.”


Thanks,” I say, as she hugs me and then moves on to chat with some women standing over by one of the bookcases. Hayley and Bill follow her lead, leaving me with Frank still behind me. I turn around and find him shaking with contained laughter. Then he raises his hand to me for a high five. I oblige him, though I don't get what he's congratulating me for.


That was priceless,” he exclaims. “Did you see the look on his face? He was
not
expecting you to say that. You can come out with some classic lines for someone who believes they're so bad at talking.”


He thinks I'm a fake,” I tell him quietly. It surprises me how irritated Bill's opinion makes me feel. There have been times in the past when I've just wanted to rewind the clock, so that I could have been born without the Empath gene. Yet here I am, completely irritated that Bill is writing me off as a charlatan.


Oh that's rich coming from him,” says Frank. “Wait until you see him put on his act. I don't get how the people who show up here every damn week can't see through his bullshit.”

Before I have the chance to respond, Hayley makes the announcement that we'll begin since everyone has arrived. In the centre of the shop one or two of the bookshelves have been moved aside to accommodate the gathering. In all there's about fifteen attendees, and they take their seats that have been arranged into a circle.


It's just like Miss O'Brien's class,” I whisper jokingly to Frank as we sit down beside one another.

He smirks. “Funny you should say that. Hayley mentioned she's been here once or twice. Right up her alley I imagine.”

I stifle a laugh just as Lucinda takes the seat at the front beside Bill and begins shuffling her tarot cards. She smiles at those assembled and asks in a serene voice, “So, who wants to go first for a reading?”

About four people raise their hands and Lucinda picks a young woman with short dark hair and silver earrings. They remind me of fish hooks as they dangle from her ears and catch the light of the bulbs overhead. The woman sits down in front of Lucinda.


Charlene, it's so good to see you again. Okay, I'm going to shuffle the cards and I need you to tell me when to stop. Just say the word when it feels natural.”

Charlene nods and watches intently as Lucinda does her shuffling. She's clearly a regular since she and Lucinda are on first name terms. A few seconds pass before she announces “stop”. Lucinda smiles and holds the cards out to Charlene, instructing her to pick three and lay them down flat on the table, blank side up. Once the cards have been picked, Lucinda sits forward and begins turning them over, one by one. The first card she reveals is called “The Empress”, and I strain my eyes to try and get a better look at it, but the table is too far away from me.

Lucinda explains that for Charlene, this card is symbolising parenthood and the desire to begin the journey to becoming a mother. She says it could mean that there's a baby on the way some time in the near future, or in a few years' time. It seems that this is exactly what Charlene wanted to hear as she beams with happiness and contentment. The emotions wash over her aura like a cleansing waterfall.

Before Lucinda began the reading I caught some deep worry spots in Charlene's aura, so maybe she'd been fretting that she was incapable of becoming pregnant. Perhaps she and her partner have been trying for a while. At first I'm glad that Lucinda has been able to reassure her of her impending motherhood, but then I begin to wonder. If the two women had been previously acquainted with one another, then Lucinda probably already knew that Charlene wanted a child. So she wasn't telling her anything new at all. It's crazy how hearing the words from Lucinda has suddenly made the prospect real for Charlene. All because she's the one sitting there holding the cards.

The next card she reveals is the “Strength” card, and Lucinda goes on to explain how this is connected to the previous one. Charlene will need to harness her inner courage, fortitude and love in order to provide her coming child with an environment in which to thrive. She will prove to be a generous and optimistic mother, while displaying the strength to guide her child in the right direction over the course of its life.

Charlene's aura practically lights up the room when she hears all this, but her joy makes me anxious. Because what if Lucinda's giving her false hope? What if she never gets pregnant and her joy in this moment is all for nothing? Isn't it easier to know the truth now and move on, rather than live in a dream world and then feel even more disappointed when Lucinda's predictions don't come into fruition?

Suddenly I understand Frank's animosity toward the self proclaimed psychics here tonight. If all they're doing is peddling lies, then they're obviously making things worse for people while taking their money at the same time. Some kind of determination takes shape in my gut, because I know I have a real skill that can help people, and I'm determined to put it to use in whatever small way that I can. Lucinda finishes up her reading for Charlene and moves on to the next person. She does several more before Bill switches seats with her to take the spotlight.

The sense of anticipation seems to heighten now, indicating that those present are far more interested in what Bill can do for them in comparison to Lucinda and her tarot cards. He asks Hayley if she would be so kind as to dim the lights a little, as the spirits are averse to electricity or any kind of technological interferences. He also requests that everyone turn off their mobile phones.

Frank leans in close to my ear. “What a load of
bollocks
,” he whispers, and I elbow him in the side.

What?
He mouths, pleased with himself. I put a finger to my lips in a gesture for him to stay quiet. I don't want Bill to inadvertently hear Frank's remarks and throw some kind of a hissy fit. He strikes me as one of those men who can't take any kind of criticism whatsoever.


Rachel, I believe you are the first on my list this evening,” says Bill, making a beckoning hand gesture to a middle aged woman sitting to the right hand side of the circle.

I marvel at how all of these people are so willing to have readings in such a public manner. Surely the personal details revealed are things they would want to keep to themselves. I whisper to Frank, asking him about it and he explains that Bill and Lucinda also do private readings where people can book them to come their homes. That's how they make most of their money, he tells me, as well as doing the odd public appearance and group nights such as this one. He also mentions that the kind of people who come to these things do it mainly for the attention. They don't mind personal details being revealed so long as they get to feel special for a night, to feel that some greater force has singled them out to be given a message.


How are you this evening, my dear?” Bill asks Rachel. His voice is soft, comforting. Very different to the voice he'd used when speaking to me earlier. I suppose he softens it to put people at ease and to give off a persona of wisdom and calm.


I'm well Bill, thank you,” says Rachel as he takes her hand into his and immediately closes his eyes.

There's a few moments of silence before he speaks. “I'm feeling a presence, a male one, someone with whom you had a paternal bond, although that doesn't mean it's your father. It could be a grandfather, or even an uncle who might have played a role in your upbringing. He's trying to communicate a name, I'm getting the letter D,” says Bill, opening his eyes now to look at Rachel who seems to be sifting through her family tree in her head, desperately seeking someone whose name began with a D.


Hmm, these spirits, always so cryptic,” whispers Frank. “They give nothing away. Of course it would be far too easy for them to simply state their names up front. Perhaps they're fond of charades.”

I hold in the snicker that wants to come out and focus back on Rachel and Bill.


I don't recall a D name, but my great grandfather Albert, I'm almost certain his middle name was Dean. It could be him,” she suggests.

Bill closes his eyes again and puts on a stern face, as though he's concentrating hard to get the information he needs from the spirit he's communing with. I try to pick out whether or not he's faking it from his aura, but I can't get a decent reading on him. Either he's the real deal or he's so dedicated to the lie that he now believes in it himself. I'd gotten a similar impression from Lucinda when I'd tried to read her earlier.


Yes!” he exclaims. “Albert Dean, he's so happy that he managed to come through. He's been watching over you for a very long time. He says you don't remember him being there when you grew up, do you dear?” Bill asks.


No I do remember him,” says Rachel, “but he died when I was only eight or nine years old.”


Ah yes, he didn't know if you would still have the memories since you were so little when he passed. But he hoped you would remember and he's very glad that you do,” Bill tells her.


Cold reading at its finest,” Frank mutters.

Everyone's attention is focused on Bill and Rachel, so I take the opportunity to question Frank. I use my quietest voice when I ask him, “What do you mean by “cold reading”?”

He speaks to me in an equally quiet voice. “Cold reading is a technique used by people trying to present themselves as psychics. Think about the question Flo. It would have worked to Bill's advantage whether she answered yes or no. You see the way he says, “you don't remember, do you?” He's using the negative attribution so that no matter what she says he can make it seem like he's right.”

I almost gasp in shock when I realise it's true. Frank sees the understanding in my face and smiles. “It's all about how you choose your words. You can make the biggest lie sound like the most genuine statement anybody's ever heard if you know how to manipulate language.”

Sometimes Frank surprises me with how insightful he is. This is definitely one of those occasions. I think of various questions in my head, like “You haven't been eating a lot of vegetables lately, have you?” If the person answers “no I haven't” the one doing the questioning can say, “That's right, you need to be eating healthier foods.” If the person answers “yes I have” the asker can reply “Very good, I sensed you were eating better.” I turn my attention back to the reading.

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