I’m gripped by the sudden urge to grab her arm and press her tocontinue, but right at the last moment, I resist.If there’s something Joel needs to tell me, that’s up to him.
“Okay,” I say, with a shrug, making to move past her.
“It’s a bit mad. You probably wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
I meet her eye. “I don’t want to know. Please?”
A self-satisfied smile. “You’re right. If I were you, I’d want to stay blissfully ignorant too.”
“Excuse me,” I say softly. “I’m running late. I’d better go.”
•••
I glance at Joel’s door on my way back into the flat, but I don’t stop. I just keep moving.
30.
Joel
Steve rests rock-solid glutes on the edge of a table in his gym’s tiny office. “You’re in luck. My next client’s not till twelve.”
I stay by the door, hands in my back pockets, wishing I’d thrown on a couple of extra layers. Steve’s gym is unheated, since it’s one of those places where people take sweating seriously.
My heartbeat’s racing in time to the house music on the other side of the door. And not because of the coffee I’ve just downed.This is it. No going back. Please... you’ve got to believe me, Steve.
“I need to know I can trust you.”
Steve folds his arms. Quite a feat when your biceps resemble bowling balls. “Of course.”
“No, really. I’ve got to know that what I say won’t go any further. Including Hayley.”
He sizes me up, like I’ve asked if he can turn me into Arnie. “You mixed up in anything illegal?”
“No.”
“Okay. Then this goes no further.”
I’m standing on the cliff edge again. Only this time I’m actually going to jump. I feel it physically, the dizzying, hazardous height of the thing. It’s the first time since uni, since I got laughed out of the doctor’s surgery. “When you were studying... did you ever come across people who were psychic?”
A silence, fully wired.
“That depends on what you mean by psychic,” Steve says eventually.
“What... what are the options?”
He shifts his weight against the table. “Stage psychics. Clairvoyants, with premium-rate phone numbers—”
“No. I mean people who really can predict the future.”
A moment of contemplation. Longer this time. “You?”
My stomach seesaws. I step off the cliff. “Yes.”
“What are we talking here? World events? Lottery numbers?”
“Nothing like that. I have... dreams.”
“About what?”
