‘Welcome to Villa Artemis.’ Rose’s voice was once world-famous; she has the husky cadences of a rock singer alongside an accent that hints at French ancestry.
Her voice, one interviewer wrote, ‘can pierce into your soul and make you give up your inner secrets within minutes. Every journalist has fallen under her trap and I did too, I confess.’
This power of the voice is very handy when you’re in Rose’s business.
She’s made millions from this voice and her particular gift.
Rose can read people like a page in a book.
It’s not psychic ability, it’s something else. Something spectacular. This was why she stayed onThe Talisman Effectfor longer than she should have. Because her gift meant she could see people’s particular problems easily.
She loved helping people to the extent that by the end, it was almost an addiction.
Now nobody speaks as Rose crosses the terrace and stands in front of them, having put on her magnificencelike a cloak so that she’s become Rose Talisman, the almost mystic healer in a dress of shimmering purple which no longer looks like something she pulled from the rails in Mama Sophia’s.
She knows she looks a lot different from the Rose they’ve all seen on television but no matter. The version of Rose Talisman they’re getting on the island retreat is far wiser.
Her eyes, a spectacular, glittering blue the same colour as the Ionian Sea, seem to reach into each of the six people’s souls.
‘Welcome to the rest of your life.
‘In a week, you’ll all feel different, I promise you,’ she says now, staring at the group in front of her: twenty-something Keera wearing what has to be a wig; scientist Dan with his slightly tortured face and falling-apart T-shirt; India, who looks as if she’s on a thrilling adventure but Rose feels there’s more to her than that; Dianne, smiling that cold, fake smile as if she’s on the podium at a charity committee; model-like Grazia who has subtle signs of having alotof injectables now that Rose can see her properly; and crocodile Bernard, also smiling like a man about to lie to a company that he won’t break it up tomorrow, when in fact, that’s precisely his plan.
Rose feels a surge of excitement.
She has missed this: fixing people, starting them on their journey without wasting years.
Helping people is her life’s mission. In all her years of work, she’s never promised a cure. Just a way to start the process.
‘This week is the start of discovering yourselves,’ she says. ‘The start,’ she reiterates. ‘Healing yourself is a lifelong process. My aim is to empower you all to understand yourselves, to see what trouble or negativity is holding you back individually. There’s no magic here, no miracle ingredient except what you put into this process and your willingness to work with me.’ The people on the terrace listen, rapt.
‘Understanding why we behave in certain ways is the key to changing that,’ Rose goes on.
She can feel the rising heat of the Corfu sun as another glorious day on the island slowly surges into life.
In the distance, she can hear music from the holiday cottages in the village on the road up to Villa Artemis, and the wild giggles of small children playing near a swimming pool.
Up here beyond the village, generally little can be heard but the rhythmic singing of cicadas and a faint noise of crockery from the depths of the villa’s kitchen.
Christos will be working on something delicious: this week he’s planning to do a tsipoura or bream covered with salt and baked one night. It’s a Spanish technique so, to balance things out, he’s also planning some Greek lamb and the classic vegetarian spanakopita.
Dismissing the thought of food, she focuses on her guests. ‘I don’t promise miracles because that’s just quackery. I can promise only that I’ll help you on your journey to understanding yourselves and how you came to be here.’
Rose takes a breath.
‘When you leave, you’ll have a road map to happiness but it will be up to you to continue the work.’
This is where Rose looks meaningfully at her subjects.
Keera lets out a tiny muffled squeak and India’s eyes are huge.
Good, thinks Rose.
Theroad map to happinessmotto always strikes a chord.
Scientist Dan looks as if he will only believe if he’s shown five peer-reviewed papers on the process.
Wait till you see me work, Dan, thinks Rose, feeling her old power surge back.
