I notice her jade-coloured eyes are watery, and she’s trembling. ‘I’m scared, Nelly.’
‘I know, but we’re going to get through this. In the meantime, you need to eat more cream cakes,’ I say, gesturing towards the cakes on display by the till. We both chuckle, and she wipes her eyes.
‘I’ve added you to my car insurance so you can drive me back from the hospital. Don’t worry, Nigella will behave herself.’
Aunt Polly’s car, Nigella – named after TV chef Nigella Lawson – is in immaculate condition for its age. My aunt pampers Nigella and treats her like a family member. Nigella’s bodywork is rust-free, she has low mileage, and she receives daily compliments from my aunt. The trouble is that Nigella has been spoiled, and now the car has a mind of its own. It rarely starts on the first try, its seatbelts tighten unexpectedly, and it randomly switches off the radio or spits out CDs it dislikes. It stalls at inconvenient moments, seemingly to deliberately annoy its driver. My aunt has had mechanics look at Nigella and to my frustration, none of them can find any faults.
I groan. ‘Can’t we get a taxi?’
Aunt Polly shakes her head. ‘Nigella knows this is a big thing for me. She will be as good as gold.’
‘She’s a car, not a small child.’
The café door swings open, and a fashionable couple walks in. Both have sun-kissed golden tans and broad smiles. They wear matching sweaters over their shoulders, as if they’ve just stepped off their yacht. Aunt Polly looks up and waves at the woman. She whispers, ‘That’s my friend, Karen, with Jack, her new younger bloke. We all think he’s dodgy. See what your curse thinks.’
Karen and her new man head for our table. ‘Polly,’ she cries and throws her arms around my aunt. ‘How lovely to see you.’
‘Hey, Polly,’ says Jack, who runs a tanned hand through his dark hair.
Aunt Polly points to me. ‘This is Nelly.’
I stand up, and Karen grins. She outstretches her hand. ‘I finally get to meet you.’
Our hands touch, and a white flash reveals the truth. When the light clears, I see Karen watching through a window in a rundown house. Inside, Jack sits on a grubby sofa with three children climbing on him, while a tired woman tells them to leave their father alone because dinner is ready. Everything goes quiet around me. I suck on one of my boiled sweets and pray my dentist has other things on his mind besides my teeth at my next visit. When the café’s sounds greet my ears, Karen and Jack are leaving, as Jack has some business calls to make.
‘What did you see?’ Aunt Polly asks.
‘He’s a liar. Jack has three kids, a wife and lives in a shabby house.’
Aunt Polly gasps. ‘I knew it. Poor Karen. Her first husband was a cheat, and now she’s hooked up with a conman. Falling in love should come with a health warning.’
Our tea and cakes arrive. We both devour them in seconds.
‘I went to see a psychic medium,’ I say as I pour milk into my tea. ‘To reconnect with Mum and Dad.’
Aunt Polly looks puzzled. ‘Oh. Can I ask why?’
‘I’m sure they must know about my curse. Maybe one of them knows who passed it down and how to lift it.’
I have lived with my curse all my life. When I was little, I assumed everyone experienced a flash of white light and a picture in their head. Every time I touched one of my parents, I saw them asleep in a car and covered in what I thought were sparkly jewels. This didn’t trouble me when I was little. I saw lots of things in my head, but I never quite understood what they meant. As a child, I had a skin condition on my hands, and Mum made me wear little white gloves all year round. She used to say that the germs in the air were making my hands sore.
The car crash when I was nine changed everything.
My aunt sighs, dabbing her mouth with a napkin. ‘Can you stop calling it a curse? It’s an extraordinary gift.’
‘Experiencing visions constantly is draining. Most are upsetting or tragic. I can’t be the only one in the family to go through this. Was anyone else cursed?’
Aunt Polly shakes her head. ‘I’ve told you, there’s never been anyone like you with such a gift.’
I put my face in my hands. ‘My curse has made me avoid love.’
‘Your curse says a lot about love,’ sighs Aunt Polly. ‘I’m glad we turned our backs on romance. What did the psychic say?’
I roll my eyes. ‘She said I have an extraordinary gift and offered me a job with her.’
Aunt Polly nods. ‘If Miranda closes, you know where to find your next career.’
‘I can’t do that.’
