I had, actually, got a dowsing pendant, although not by choice. Cherry gave it to me, probably as an attempt to make up for years of lack of support of my thing, as she put it. It was a couple of inches tall and made up of slices of crystal in rainbow colours—allegedly to represent the chakras, but if you ask me, it was just her trying to kill two birds with one lump of brightly coloured stone when it came to gestures of sisterly solidarity.
Me and Phil had mostly been using it to play with the cats, not that they were any more impressed with its mystical properties than I’d been. When Phil brought it over, I noticed the purple stripe—amethyst, I think—had faded a bit. If I’d believed in all the chakra stuff, I might have been worried, but luckily I’d had the foresight to preserve my ignorance on matters spiritual.
Lilah pulled out a much-folded A4 sheet, clearly a computer printout, which had on it a sketchy map of the sprawling markets of Camden Town from some tourist website, and smoothed it flat on the coffee table. “Does it matter if it ain’t to scale?” She sounded anxious.
Like she actually believed this ought to work, God help her.
I flashed Phil a dirty look as he handed me my pendant. If he was expecting me to put on a show and fake a communication with the spirit world, he was going to be in for a disappointment. I don’t like deceiving people.
Still, there was always the off-chance this might be the one-in-a-million time my thing would decide to play along, so I angled my dangle, tried to clear my mind, and listened.
I got some strong vibes straightaway—but they were coming from that sealed envelope of Lilah’s. Big surprise there. I did the psychic equivalent of shoving my fingers in my ears, and turned to Phil. “Can you shift that? It’s interfering.” I nodded to the offending article.
Lilah leaned forward, her mouth slightly open and her eyes dark and gleaming. “Does that mean it’s working?”
“Uh, kind of. Just need to hang on a mo.”
We all waited while Phil strode off. I heard the front door open, a car door slam, and then the front door closed again.
That’s my Phil for you. You ask him to shift something, he shifts it. Right. Time to get on with the dog and pony show. I held the pendant over the centre of the map, which was trying to fold itself up again already. Great. Even printer paper knew this was a load of bollocks.
I listened some more, conscious of Phil tiptoeing back into the room. Well, not literally, but there was a definite air of trying not to break my concentration, assuming I had any to start with. Phil always reckoned I was sabotaging myself by not believing, like I subconsciously talked myself into half-arsing it, but this time I gave it my best shot. I focussed on the pics of Jonny-boy, still spread out next to the map, and tried to really feel it—guilty ran-out-on-the-missus vibes and all.
Nothing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Merlin’s ears prick up. Maybe I should ask him to have a go.
How long were they expecting me to keep on with the show? I shot Phil a worried glance, hoping he could somehow convey to me, maybe by eyebrow twitches, whether I should just pretend to find something.
And I’d probably better do it soon. Merlin, the little sod, had hunched down in his best imma-stalk-you-now posture, pupils blown and tail aquiver, clearly under the impression this was all a game and he was about to run off with the prize.
Phil coughed and broke the silence, thank God. “Have you got anything that belongs to him? Sometimes personal possessions can help Tom get a reading.”
Lilah’s face fell. “Sorry. Didn’t think of that.”
In the nick of time, I bunged the pendant in my pocket. Merlin expressed his feelings with his usual eloquence by settling down to lick his bum in my direction.
“I’ll tell you what, then,” I said. “Why don’t we make another appointment, and you can bring something of his along then?”
She nodded earnestly. “What do you want me to bring?”
“Uh, clothes or jewellery are usually best. Personal stuff. Worn next to the skin if possible.” This part was actually true, although don’t ask me why.
“Got it. No problem.” She got down from her seat and stretched out a hand to me. “I’ll be in touch.”
Just as she and Darren were about to go, I thought of something else. “Mind if I ask another question, love? Uh, it’s not strictly related . . .”
“Ask away. Long as it’ll bring my Jonny back.”
“Uh . . . those papery flowers in your wedding pics, what are they?”
“Them? They’re peonies.”
“Yeah? I never knew you could get them in red. Ta.”
She gave me a funny look and left, taking Darren with her.
After the door had closed behind them, Phil gave me an even funnier look. “Seriously? Flowers? Sure you don’t want to ask her for makeup tips as well?”
“Oi, I was thinking about the wedding. Yours and mine. You were saying you hated pastel colours for the flowers.”
“And you don’t reckon it might be a bad omen, choosing the same flowers as a couple where the husband’s gone missing?”
“So we’re believing in omens now, are we?” I gave him a friendly dig in the ribs. “Better watch out Merlin never crosses your path, then. That’s supposed to be well unlucky. Course, it could be difficult to avoid what with you and him living together and all.”
Phil huffed a laugh. “Thought I was living with you, not the bloody cats.”
“Nah, ain’t you heard? Bestiality’s best, boys.”
“That explains the dirty looks Merlin’s been giving you, then.”
“That’s ’cos I took his toy away. And no, I don’t mean my dick.” I shuddered. “With those claws? My balls are trying to climb back inside just thinking about it.”
Phil smirked. “Want me to kiss them better?”
“Well, technically nothing’s happened to them yet . . .” I leaned back against the wall and gave him a once-over with the old bedroom eyes.
Never one to be backward in coming forward, Phil said, “We’ll have to see about that, then,” and did.
Later, when certain portions of me had been thoroughly taken care of, I lay in Phil’s arms on the sofa. “Why do you think Lilah came to us? Well, me, I suppose. I mean, all she really wants is a flippin’ courier service.”
Phil shrugged. As I was lying on top of him, it felt like a very small, localised earthquake. I suddenly sympathised with how the cats must feel when the nice warm lap they’re sitting on shifts. Being better brought up than them, though, I didn’t dig in any claws to complain. “All about the glamour, isn’t she?” he said.
“You calling me glamorous? Seriously? Maybe I should stop wearing the heels and the feather boa to work.”
He huffed. “Look it up in a dictionary sometime. It’s not only used to describe drag queens.”
“Oi, I know what the word means. I’m not a Sun reader.”
“Just like the pictures, do you?”
“Yeah, right. Because topless Page 3 totty is so my thing.”
“You seemed keen enough to ogle the client earlier.” Phil gave me a hard stare.
“I didn’t ogle Lilah. Although mind you, she is a very attractive woman—”
“I’ll show you attractive.”
Things degenerated a bit after that. Fun times.
I did look glamour up, later, when Phil wasn’t watching. Only I did it on the internet, because who uses an actual dictionary anymore? And all right, I hadn’t known it could mean magic, which is what ye olde peasant folk would probably have called my gift for finding things. If they weren’t too busy ducking me in a pond and then burning me at the stake, presumably after a suitable interval to dry off first.
It made a sort of sense—after all, people get, well, bewitched, I suppose you’d say, by someone glamorous, don’t they? Why else would all those celebrity gossip magazines get sold week in, week out? And by the same token, anything with a whiff of magic about it was . . . enticing, I guess? Made me feel weird, thinking about it. I mean, I haven’t got self-esteem issues or any of that guff, but I’m just your average bloke. Well, give or take a dodgy hip and an annoying extra sense.
Nah. It was all bollocks. Darren must have talked her into it, thinking he was doing us a favour.
I looked up peonies too, while the laptop had a full head of steam going. There was this website that had all the meanings of the flowers, and I felt totally vindicated when I saw what they had down for peonies: happy marriage, and—get this—gay life.
Also shame, but hey, two out of three ain’t bad.