Cynthia arches an eyebrow. ‘Are they enjoying being single in your visions?’
I shrug. ‘Some fully embrace not having anyone special in their life, whereas some struggle with loneliness and a broken heart.’
She applies a new layer of lip balm. ‘My best mate is married but is also having an affair with her driving instructor. She’s failed her test six times, but that’s another story. If you touched her hand, what would you see – the saucy driving instructor or her poor husband?’
‘In that situation, it would depend on who has captured her heart.’
Cynthia nods. ‘You would see how things end with the driving instructor and his lessons, which are conducted from his back seat.’ She sighs. ‘And you want to get rid of this wonderful gift?’
I nod and correct her. ‘It’s a curse. Not a gift.’
‘Does this curse work on demand?’
‘Yes.’
She lights a silver candle beside us. ‘Do you have to touch a specific part of someone for it to work?’
‘It must be skin-to-skin contact. I can’t see anything through clothes.’
Her eyebrows rise. ‘Interesting. Do your visions ever change?’
This feels more like an interrogation than a psychic reading. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Do you see different visions every time you touch someone?’
I shake my head. ‘I see the same vision unless something has changed, like if someone has died or a new person has entered their life.’
She extends her heavily spray-tanned arm towards me and smiles. ‘Touch me. I have some suspicions about my boyfriend, so let’s see how good your curse is.’
After a deep breath, I touch her fingers. There is a flash of bright light before my eyes. It clears, and I see a burly man with a bald head sitting in a lorry cab kissing a woman with long black hair who wears a skintight pink dress.
It makes me gasp.
Cynthia smooths down her headscarf. ‘Don’t hold back. I’m ready.’
She doesn’t flinch as I tell her. When I finish describing his lorry cab in detail – including his black-and-white fluffy dice, his lorry-shaped mug, his silver roadster kettle, and his black T-shirt emblazoned with the words ‘I just dropped a load’ – and his shiny head and how tight the woman’s dress was, Cynthia leans closer. ‘That’s not a curse – that’s a money-making gift. You have a talent,’ she gushes as the world around me feels muffled. I watch her mouth move, but I can’t hear anything. Reaching into my back pocket, I take out my emergency packet of boiled sweets and suck on one until I can hear Cynthia again.
‘The woman you described is my boyfriend’s boss’s wife. She’s been sniffing around my man for ages. I knew she would make a move.’ She smears on another layer of lip balm. ‘You have confirmed what I suspected, and the details you provided were spot on. I mean, how would you even know what his favourite T-shirt says across the front? I will deal with him when he gets home. That is an amazing gift.’
‘I don’t always get a sense of timing with my visions,’ I explain. ‘He might not be cheating on you right now, but he will in the future.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘His cab smells of her cheap perfume. He claims it’s his new air freshener from Sainsbury’s. I am not stupid. Anyway, enough about him. I could do with an extra pair of hands.’ She lets out a heavy sigh. ‘My mother has decided to go away for a while. I have three kids to pick up from school, a cheating boyfriend, and a thriving psychic business she was helping with, and she selfishly books a three-month cruise around the world.’ I watch Cynthia place her head in her hands. She lifts it a few seconds later. ‘If you worked here, I could sort out my kids and my relationship. Your gift of romance prophecy would have my customers queuing out the door. Come and join me.’
Shaking my head, I clasp my hands together. ‘It’s not a gift. It’s a curse. Please help me find my parents in the afterlife. They must know more about my curse, possibly even how to lift it.’
She casts me a bewildered expression. ‘This is a wonderful gift you’ve been given. It’s not a curse. I think you should consider my business offer.’
My skin prickles. Her eyes have sharpened. They are bright, with the unmistakable glint of someone doing mental maths and seeing some eye-watering business numbers in their mind. She views my curse as a money-making gift. Sitting up straighter, I take a deep breath and try to sound calm. ‘I need your help, not a business offer.’
It comes out more like a low growl.
Cynthia is oblivious to my annoyance. She shakes her head. ‘You have been blessed with a fantastic gift. I don’t understand how it is ruining your life. You get free dating spoiler alerts in your head.’
This woman has no idea what I endure with my curse. My cheeks are heating up, and I am on the verge of tears. ‘Can you help me or not? It is ruining my life.’
Cynthia tries to reach out and touch my hand, but I yank it away as I don’t want to see her trucker boyfriend kissing that woman again.
‘Go away and think about my offer,’ she says.
