Eva's Journey (5 page)

Chapter Six

I
knocked on the door, and stood back as flakes of blue paint fluttered and floated towards the ground. After a minute, I could hear a very weird squeaking noise. I held my breath as the squeaking became louder. Whatever was making the noise was getting closer. I could feel an icy cold shiver run slowly up and down my spine. I turned to look over to Victoria, who just waved cheerfully.

‘This is crazy,' I thought. ‘What am I doing here?'

Then, just as I turned to go back to my friend, the door opened.

I found myself looking at a woman. Her face was thin and pale. She had dark hair, and huge
brown eyes. She was wearing an ugly blue track-suit, and runners that were totally last season. She was sitting in a wheelchair.

‘What do you want?' she asked.

‘I'm sorry for disturbing you,' I said. ‘I was looking for Madam Margarita.'

‘That's me,' she said.

‘You don't look like a fortune-teller,' I said.

‘Well, you don't look like a princess,' she shot back.

When I didn't answer, she pointed at my necklace, which said ‘Princess' in sparkly pink letters – one of Dad's little jokes, from way back when he still had a sense of humour.

‘Ha, ha,' I said. ‘Very funny. Not. Anyway, I think I've changed my mind. I don't want my fortune told.'

‘No,' she said. ‘Don't go. Please. You're my first customer.'

‘You mean I'm your first customer today?'

She hesitated. ‘Er …… yes.'

I knew she was lying. That's why the red and
gold paint had stained my fingers – her sign hadn't even had a chance to dry.

How did I end up with a fortune teller who was on her first day on the job?

‘Come in,' she said, wheeling herself backwards into the narrow hall. The squeaking sound started again. It must be awful to have to use a wheel-chair, but surely oiling the wheels occasionally would make it easier to bear?

‘Come in,' she said again, smiling this time.

She looked younger when she smiled.

It seemed rude not to follow her, so with a last glance over at Victoria, I stepped in to the hall.

I looked around. I don't know a whole lot about fortune-tellers' houses, but surely they weren't meant to look like this – small and shabby and sad?

Madam Margarita was watching me.

‘What were you expecting?' she asked. ‘Buckingham Palace?'

I shook my head embarrassed.

‘No.' I said quickly. ‘It's just that this house is a
lot like the one I live in.'

It was the truth.

Madam Margarita didn't comment on this, but her face made it clear that she didn't believe me.

‘In there.'

She pointed to a room, and I obediently stepped inside.

‘I'll be back in a second,' said Madam Margarita as she closed the door behind me.

I was in a small, untidy room. All of one wall was taken up by a bed. In the middle of the room there was a round table, and one chair.

Before I had made up my mind whether to sit or stand, Madam Margarita was back. Now she was wearing a turban made of cheap-looking shiny fabric, and wrapped around her shoulders was a silver shawl. She looked a bit like a turkey all ready to go into the oven.

‘Sit,' she said.

I sat on the only chair, and Madam Margarita wheeled herself so that she was facing me.

She took something from her knees and put it 
on the table.

‘My crystal ball,' she announced.

It looked more like an upside down goldfish bowl. I wondered if there was a poor fish in the kitchen, desperately holding its breath until it could get its home back.

‘So you want to know what the future holds for you?'

At first I didn't answer.

This was all too stupid.

If Madam Margarita could tell the future, and could tell how she was going to spend the day, why did she bother getting up out of bed?

If she had such great powers, why didn't she use them to get herself a better life than this one?

But then I figured I was going to have to pay the ten euro now anyway, so I might as well just get on with it.

And besides, behind Madam Margarita's tough expression, there was the hint that maybe she was quite a nice person. Maybe she really could help me.

So I opened my mouth and the words came tumbling out.

‘Yes, I want to know my future. You see, things have been really awful lately. My dad's business has closed down, and we have hardly any money, and his car is gone, and Mum's jeep is gone, and we have to drive around in this totally embarrassing old banger, and we had to move house, and I have to go to a new school tomorrow, and I'm really nervous about that, and—'

‘Stop!'

Madam Margarita had folded her arms.

‘That's all very interesting, Princess, but before you say another word, will you go back outside and read my sign again?'

‘You're kidding.'

‘No, I'm not. Just do it.'

This was too weird, but for some reason, I found myself doing what she said. I went back outside, leaving the front door open behind me. While I was outside I looked across at Victoria, but she didn't see me. She was busy playing with
her phone.

I thought about running across to her.

I thought about forgetting the whole crazy fortune-telling thing.

But instead, I carefully re-read the sign and then I went back inside the shabby house and sat down.

‘So,' said Madam Margarita. ‘Did you see where my sign mentions counselling?'

I shook my head. ‘No.'

‘That's because it's not there. I'm a fortune teller, not a counsellor.'

Then her voice softened, and she sounded almost kind.

‘I'm sorry, Princess, but I'm not qualified to be a counsellor. It would be wrong of me to listen to your problems. So why don't you just let me tell your fortune and you can go on your way?'

I nodded, trying to sound braver than I felt.

‘Sure,' I said. ‘Go right ahead and tell me what the future holds for me. I can take it – I think.'

Chapter Seven

M
adam Margarita adjusted her ugly turban, settled herself more comfortably on her chair, and spoke in a whispery voice.

‘Cross my palm with silver.'

‘What?'

‘It means give me the money,' she said in her ordinary voice.

I handed her the ten euro, and she put it into the pocket of her tracksuit.

‘Now,' she said. ‘Put your hands on the table.'

I did as she said.

She leaned forwards and examined my hands. She looked especially closely at the only nail that still had its gel extension, with the crystal set into it. I don't know why, but I felt like I had to explain
myself.

‘I got my nails done as a birthday treat.'

Then she looked at my designer hoodie.

‘That's one of those fancy jumpers that cost a fortune, isn't it?'

I could feel my face going red.

Was it because my seventy-dollar hoodie was
meant
to be faded and ripped, while clearly Madam Margarita's cheap tracksuit top was faded and ripped from being worn too much?

‘Well, sort of,' I replied. ‘But I bought this hoodie in America, and they're not so expensive over there.'

She gave a big laugh.

‘So you flew all the way to America to save money on a jumper – sounds a bit strange to me.'

I couldn't argue with her – it did sound a bit stupid when she said it like that.

Madam Margarita released my hands, and I quickly sat on them – like I could pretend that they weren't there.

She put her hands around the sides of the
crystal ball/goldfish bowl, and gazed into it, like she could actually see something besides the grubby tablecloth underneath.

Her voice went all whispery again.

‘I see a lot of things in your future.'

‘Like what?'

‘Patience, child. Everything's a bit cloudy. It's hard to see clearly.'

No wonder she couldn't see clearly. Her so-called crystal ball was really filthy.

I gazed at the ceiling and waited. A huge cobweb stretched from the doorway right across to the furthest corner of the room.

Suddenly Madam Margarita jumped. She took me by surprise and I jumped too. We both gave nervous laughs.

‘I can see lots and lots of things in your future,' she repeated.

This time I knew better than to rush her. In my nervousness, I picked the last remaining crystal from my fingernail. The crystal fell to the floor, and I winced as I saw it slip betweens a crack in
the floorboards.

At last, Madam Margarita spoke again.

‘I see sadness,' she said. ‘I see lots of sadness and disappointment.'

Great
, I thought. It didn't take great talent to see that. After all, I'd already told her about my pathetic life.

Then she smiled. I noticed that she had beautiful, even, white teeth. ‘And I see happiness. Lots of happiness.'

I waited, but if Madam Margarita could see anything else, it didn't look like she was planning on sharing it with me.

Lots of happiness sounded good, but I needed to know more.

How long was I supposed to wait before the happiness gig got going?

Was there any way of speeding up the process?

‘Er….can you see how exactly I get from the big sadness to the big happiness?' I asked.

Madam Margarita didn't answer at first. She leaned forward with her eyes closed.

Was she thinking about my future?

Or was she falling asleep?

Suddenly her eyes shot open.

‘I can see good deeds, and then I can see happiness.'

I grinned. I really liked the sound of that.

‘So, what you're saying is, loads of people are going to do good deeds to help me so I can be happy again?'

She shook her head impatiently.

‘Are you deliberately misunderstanding me? That's not the way it works. You're the one who has to do the good deeds.'

‘Oh,' I said, not liking the sound of that quite so much.

Madam Margarita smiled.

‘It's becoming clearer now. I can see you helping people. I can see you helping many people. And then happiness comes to you as gently as the sweet falling rain on a soft spring morning.'

‘Sweet falling rain?' I repeated.

Madam Margarita looked at me. ‘Too much?'

I nodded. ‘Too much.'

‘OK,' she said. ‘Let's put it into your kind of language. I see you doing loads of good stuff for people, and then you get to be really happy again. How does that sound?'

It sounded fair enough to me, but could it really be that simple?

There were too many possibilities.

‘Who am I supposed to do good deeds for?' I asked. ‘How am I supposed to know who to help? Do I have to help old ladies across the road, or do I have to save the rainforests? And how many people do I have to help? If I do one totally amazing good thing, would that be as good as lots of small things?'

Madam Margarita shrugged, and her silver shawl made a loud crinkly noise.

‘Nothing is simple. Many people are unhappy. Many people have problems that you could help them with. Wherever there is an opportunity to do something good, just do it. Your reward will
come in time.'

I sat there, wondering if she could possibly be right.

In some ways, Madam Margarita seemed like a total fraud.

And yet, there was something in her eyes that made me think she might be telling the truth.

There was a long silence.

A very long, very uncomfortable silence.

‘So that's it?' I said in the end.

She nodded.

‘That's it. Your session is over.'

I couldn't make up my mind whether I was disappointed or relieved.

Madam Margarita led the way back out into the hall, with her wheels squeaking loudly as she went.

‘Hey,' I said suddenly. ‘That squeaky noise must drive you crazy. Haven't you got any oil?'

‘I think there's some in the shed out the back, but I can't get out there since … well I can't get out there any more. And everyone else around here is busy all the time.'

I hesitated. It was a lovely sunny day, and I wanted to get back outside to Victoria, but if I was going to spend my life doing good deeds, I figured I might as well get started.

‘Tell me exactly where the oil is,' I said.

I went out to the shed and found the oil on the shelf where Madam Margarita had told me it would be. It didn't take long to oil the wheels of her chair, and I got her to wheel herself up and down the hall, making sure I had done it properly.

Madam Margarita smiled.

‘That was a little thing to you,' she said. ‘But it's a big help to me. Thank you very much.'

Suddenly I felt embarrassed.

‘You're welcome,' I said, and I ran outside to my friend.

‘You were ages,' said Victoria. ‘I was starting to get worried.'

I shrugged. ‘It didn't seem like long to me.'

‘And what did Madam Margarita say? Is your life going to change? Are you going to get rich
again?'

‘She said …' I stopped talking.

She said I should do loads of good stuff, and then my life would get better.

How crazy did that sound?

How could I say that to Victoria without sounding like a total idiot?

So I just smiled.

‘She didn't say a whole lot,' I said. ‘I should have listened to you. I should have kept the money and bought a t-shirt.'