‘This is a gorgeous van. Very light and colourful.’ Bea didn’t know why she’d been expecting the place to be dark and dreary – it was the complete opposite.
‘It is, isn’t it? My grand-daughter and her husband own the farm and a few years ago discovered the vintage vans in the barn and turned one of the fields into a camping area. I thought this one was perfect for giving readings.’
‘That would be Isla. I met her at the B&B yesterday. The farm has such stunning scenery, it must feel like paradise waking up to the views of the mountain each morning. Such beautiful surroundings.’
‘I’m not sure you could call this place paradise as it always stinks of cow manure, but I suppose you get used to it after a time.’ Martha gave a chuckle. ‘But there is nothing better than a brisk walk up the mountain pass or along the river.’
Bea was just about to share that she had a trial at The Little Blue Boathouse tomorrow but something stopped her. She wondered whether Martha would know anything about that when she made her predictions.
‘Now, relax and breathe. I can sense you’re very tense.’
‘I’ve never had my future told before,’ admitted Bea, unable to hide the worry in her voice.
Martha didn’t answer. With her eyes cast down she lowered her veil over her face and hunched herself over the crystal ball, running her hands over it. They were wrapped in the same gloves as yesterday, her wrists laced with bangles and her bony fingers stacked with rings.
‘Just remember your future is never set in stone.’ Martha’s voice was low and eerie. ‘You’re in charge of your own destiny.’
Bea began to wonder: if that was the case, what exactly was she paying the fiver for? But then her mind flicked back to yesterday. There were certain things Martha had said about her ex which there was no way she could have known. Now gripped by anticipation, Bea didn’t take her eyes off Martha. Still running her hands over the ball, Martha remained focused on the object in front of her as she started to speak.
‘You, my dear, have been taken advantage of for many years.’ Martha briefly looked up and gave her a sympathetic look. ‘And you deserve so much better, but I can see you’re now starting to recognise your own worth. Honesty and loyalty are important to you and with yet another betrayal under his belt he was never going to be marriage material.’
Bea knew exactly who she was talking about. Even from the early stages, Carl had manipulated their relationship, but it was only now that she could see that.
‘He used his father’s death to say he wanted to spend more time on his own and that he was grieving. I gave him that space and he used the opportunity to strike up a relationship with Nicola,’ Bea blurted, unable to hold back.
Martha was nodding but still focused on the crystal ball. ‘Things are changing for you. Happier times on the horizon,’ she continued.
This was more like it and was exactly what Bea wanted to hear.
‘There’s a whole world out there but you have already stumbled across your forever home.’
Bea arched an eyebrow and her heart began to beat a little faster. What did Martha mean by that? Did she mean Heartcross or back home? Bea was unsure whether she was allowed to ask questions and took the plunge.
‘And where is my forever home?’
Dismissing Bea’s question, Martha waved her hand and continued. ‘You have to take a chance, believe in yourself and don’t settle for anything less than you deserve.’
Bea’s mind turned towards Nolan for a moment.
Martha’s eyes drifted in and out of focus. ‘You’re going on a hell of a journey and life will not be smooth sailing.’ She quickly caught Bea’s eye. ‘I see water. Danger.’ She looked back into the ball. ‘And you’re going to champion life like you’ve never done before. A meeting will change the direction of your path and a job is going to unravel a mystery.’
Bea wasn’t sure whether Martha meant a meeting with someone, or a work meeting. And what job was going to unravel a mystery? Did she mean the job at The Little Blue Boathouse?
‘You’re going to be faced with a life-changing dilemma.’
‘Life-changing?’ probed Bea, wanting to know more.
Martha briefly looked up but didn’t answer Bea’s question. ‘A boat … a different type of boat.’ Martha was running her hands faster and faster over the crystal ball. Bea couldn’t take her eyes off her. She was mesmerising.
Not knowing what had come over her Bea suddenly blurted, ‘Maybe that’s The Hemingway,’ then instantly regretted giving information away.
Martha stopped dead in her tracks. Her hands hovered over the top of the ball and then she pushed it away. Lifting up her veil, Martha’s eyes locked on Bea’s. She was staring at Bea in a way that slightly unnerved her. Her eyes didn’t leave Bea’s. ‘Say that again.’
‘The Hemingway,’ Bea repeated slowly, noticing Martha’s aura had completely changed. ‘It’s a boat on the river.’
‘The River Heart?’
‘Yes,’ replied Bea.
