Chapter Seven
Two hours later, Amber was feeling quite drunk. So far, the guests who’d seen Madam Rosa had returned to the kitchen-come-dining-room with wide eyes. They’d been excited to share what they’d been told.
‘She’s amazing,’ one woman gushed. ‘She told me I’m going to get a new job, and guess what? Yesterday I went for an interview!’
‘She told me my daughter-in-law is pregnant and going to have a little girl. That must be why my Simon and his Jessica rang me earlier. They said they want to see me tomorrow with some exciting news, and that it’s a surprise!’
‘She told me we’re moving home. Quite by chance, earlier this week, I saw a For Sale board outside a house I’ve liked for ages. Me and my hubby are viewing it tomorrow!’
Amber didn’t like to admit it, but her stomach was starting to churn with nervous anticipation. Everything she’d eaten was mixing unhappily with an overload of booze. She should have stuck to champagne instead of starting on the gin. She knew she was more than tipsy. The chip she’d had on her shoulder for the last year about Cougar Kate suddenly felt like a humungous boulder. Amber put down the bowl of half-eaten sherry trifle she’d been tucking into. It was delicious but she was too stuffed for even a teaspoonful, and there was no chance of fitting in a black coffee for sobering up.
‘Amber, it’s now your turn!’
Amber looked up to see Cougar Kate smiling at her. Amber’s fingers itched to squash her leftover trifle into the woman’s heavily made-up face. Either that, or tip it down her cleavage. Amber had a vision of custard blobs and bits of cream spread over Cougar Kate’s breasts, and some dickhead like Clive Derek going into meltdown wanting to lick it all off. Amber frowned. Perhaps Matthew might like to do something like that? Not with Cougar Kate, but with her? Amber put her head on one side as she considered. Perhaps, when she was home, she’d have a rummage in the fridge and then greet Matthew with two olives impaled on her nipples. It would have been a whole lot cheaper than splurging on this wretched bra which was now digging into her.
‘Are you all right, Amber?’ Cougar Kate tried to frown, but her botoxed forehead wouldn’t let her.
‘Ne’er better,’ Amber assured. Spotting Chrissie and Dee helping themselves to enormous slices of Black Forest Gateau, Amber lurched over to them. She tugged on their sleeves. ‘S’my turn to see Madam Raspberry.’
‘Are you drunk?’ asked Dee.
‘Don’ be rid-clous.’ Amber belched, engulfing her friends in trifle and gin fumes.
‘Good luck,’ said Chrissie, gently taking Amber’s unfinished dessert from her. ‘Don’t forget to have all your questions at the ready.’
‘‘kay. Back inna bit.’
Chrissie and Dee watched Amber stagger off to Cougar Kate’s lounge.
‘She’s not a happy bunny,’ Dee murmured.
‘No. I wonder why.’
‘Let’s hope Madam Rosa cheers Amber up.’
***
Amber swayed towards Cougar Kate’s lounge door, which was shut. For a second, Amber felt like she was visiting the headmistress at her old secondary school. She was always getting into trouble with teachers and being sent off to Mrs Thomas’s office.
‘Talking in class again, Amber?’ Mrs Thomas would tut as she shook her head. Her hair had been snow-white which had been a source of fascination for Amber. At the time Amber thought she’d never seen anybody so old. Even Amber’s grandma hadn’t had snow-white hair. As each term rolled by, Amber had found herself in Mrs Thomas’s office more and more often.
‘Flicking paper at the English teacher again, Amber?’
‘Yes, Mrs Thomas.’
‘Yet another whoopee cushion on the English teacher’s chair, Amber?’
‘Yes, Mrs Thomas.’
‘Frightening the English teacher by putting a jack-in-the-box under her desk, Amber?’
‘Yes, Mrs Thomas.’
‘Why? Don’t you like English?’
‘Yes. I just don’t like the English teacher.’
Amber wondered if Mrs Thomas was still alive. She’d been a nice old girl and Amber felt bad that she’d been such a bored and rebellious pupil. She hoped there wasn’t such a thing as karma. If so Amber would have to brace herself for balled-up paper being flicked at her, being scared by clowns popping out of boxes, and embarrassing moments of breaking wind.
She knocked on the door.
‘Come in,’ said the voice within.
Amber pushed down the handle and walked into Cougar Kate’s lounge. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. Tea lights in storm lanterns were dotted about, giving the room an ambient glow. In each corner of the room, fragrant incense sticks burned. Thick curls of smoke twisted their way up to the ceiling. The smell reminded Amber of church. Her eyes focussed on the small woman sitting in Cougar Kate’s armchair. Whatever Amber had been expecting, it wasn’t a female who looked as ordinary as this. Where was Madam Rosa’s colourful scarf wound around her head? Or the big chandelier earrings? Or wrists full of jangling bangles? Madam Rosa was more like Amber’s mum. Ordinary.
Madam Rosa beckoned to the nearby sofa. ‘Sit down, love.’
Amber inwardly groaned. The woman even sounded like her mum. Amber felt befuddled from booze. Her brain was struggling to connect with her mouth. She’d have to take great care to hide her drunkenness and not slur her words.
‘You’re a beautiful young lady,’ Madam Rosa began, ‘but I can see you’re not a happy one.’
‘Yers,’ Amber said, sounding like a pissed Margaret Thatcher.
‘You haven’t told a soul how unhappy you are because a part of you feels that if you don’t tell anybody, the problem might magically disappear.’
‘Yers.’
‘But there is a problem. That is very clear to see.’
‘Howww can yooo tell?’
‘Because your heart is heavy. You are carrying a burden. It was obvious from the way you walked into the room. You are weighted down with sadness.’
‘Bart can yooo tell me wart this sadness is?’ Amber crossed one leg, leant her elbows on her knee, and steepled her fingers together in an attempt to look both sober and intelligent.
‘But of course. It’s your boyfriend. He’s giving you a run for your money.’
Amber frowned. Matthew hated running. And did money have to do with it?
‘Ay don’t think ay understand.’
‘Your boyfriend is messing you about.’
‘Wart?’ Amber was so confused her elbows slid off her knees and one of her steepled fingers shot painfully up her left nostril.
‘All this nonsense about working extra hours at the office, then coming home late, not to mention treating you like his personal housekeeper-come-cleaning lady–’
‘Haw do yoo know awl this?’ Amber’s eyebrows were so knitted together she looked like she was sporting a monobrow.
‘Because I’m Madam Rosa. I know everything.’
‘My Math-yoo is warking very haard,’ Amber protested.
‘Your Matthew is having an affair. Time’s up, love.’
‘B-but,’ Amber stuttered. ‘Ay haven’t even asked yoo my kwes-tune!’
‘Here, take this,’ said Madam Rosa. She leant towards Amber and pressed a plain white card into her hand. ‘If you want to know anything else you’ll have to book a full consultation. Send the next person in, please.’
Amber stood up, her face a picture of bewilderment. Matthew was having an affair? What a load of rubbish! As she lurched out of Cougar Kate’s lounge, Amber suddenly felt sick. And it was nothing to do with her booze overload.