‘You’re blocked by your mastery of the physical world. You have built a nice life for yourself, and you are wary of disrupting that, or showing people that you are more than the “switched-on” woman you seem to be. This ability to function at such a high level in the normal world is a blessing. Not all people of your intuitive disposition are able to do that. On the other hand, it hinders you from being who you really are because you can do so well by pretending.’
Beth shifted in her chair. Doriel was uncomfortably accurate. She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or embarrassed.
‘You come from a place of sacrifice,’ Doriel said. She pointed to a card of a man with pointed ears, hanging upside down from a tree. His legs looped over a branch, his long hair hanging straight towards the leafy, autumnal ground. ‘You have been putting others first, believing it was for the greater good. Their needs were more important than your own, but this is a pattern for you. You are not being honest with yourself. You need to look at life in a different way.
‘The underlying theme is your independence. You see yourself as the only person you can rely on.’
Beth’s face heated. She was not often embarrassed. She rarely showed the world enough of herself to cause embarrassment, but Doriel was making her feel profoundly exposed.
‘In your immediate future I see you starting to make things happen. You will begin to manifest that which you have longed for.’
‘How do I know what to create?’ Beth cut in. Her pulse raced. Doriel was hitting one button after another. The air was thick with the smell of sage and it was clogging her throat and nose, adding to the sense of overwhelm. She had no idea what she’d expected, but to have someone see her like this was alien and deeply unnerving. It was as though Doriel knew more about her than she knew herself. ‘I know I’m not happy, but I don’t know what I’m looking for. I’m missing something.’
‘That’s perceptive.’ Doriel turned from the cards, leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. In that moment she looked much younger than Beth had first assumed. She seemed ageless, as though she were centuries old, and yet her skin was smooth, firm and flushed. Her eyes were bright with fire. The hennaed plait draped over her shoulder and brushed the cards. ‘Do you have any sense at all about where you might be going?’
‘Only that where I’ve been is wrong. I have…’
‘Yes?’ Doriel leaned forwards.
‘Oh, nothing.’
‘It’s not nothing, love,’ Doriel said, leaning back. ‘If it were, you would have told me by now. People never hesitate with insignificant chatter. It’s only the deep, dark, fascinating stuff they keep to themselves. You can say anything here. It won’t leave this room and Jonan will never hear it from me.’
Beth raised her eyebrows. ‘Jonan?’
Doriel laughed. The sound was oddly musical, like bells. ‘No, dear, I haven’t been prying into your thoughts. I don’t need to.’
‘Has he said something about me?’ Beth leaned forwards, casting her eyes over the cards on the table, and then looking back up at Doriel.
Doriel pursed her lips, trying not to smile. ‘I know you’ll understand I need to respect Jonan’s privacy too.’
‘Of course.’ Beth looked over to the door, wondering if he was still outside and whether he was listening. She knew so little about the man but, somehow, he made her feel normal. That was not something she was used to.
Doriel laughed. ‘You’re a strong woman, Beth. You don’t need to be saved. You need to be released. You need to find your wings so you can fly on your own terms. Trust your instincts and intuitions. If you feel someone is untrustworthy, keep your guard up around them. If someone feels like home, you can trust them even if you have only just met. Your intuition is strong. It won’t lead you astray.’
‘And you really can’t tell me about Jonan?’
‘Would you be happy for me to convey your interest in him?’
‘Fair point.’ Beth grimaced. She got up and pulled on her coat. ‘That was fascinating. Thank you.’
‘One more thing.’ Doriel stood and took hold of Beth’s hand. Her skin was warm and slightly dry as though the autumn weather was taking its toll. She wore a perfume that was strangely familiar and tugged at Beth’s heart in an unexpected way. ‘Please do come to me again, love. I think you will be a friend and I would not see you isolated. Sometimes the new person in your life may play a greater role than you would have believed possible.’
‘Thank you.’ Beth’s voice was hoarse. She coughed, looking away.
‘Now, I think someone may be waiting for you downstairs.’
Beth squinted as she walked from the crooked staircase into the brightly lit shop. It was dark outside, but there were still plenty of people walking along the damp, yellow-lit street.
Jonan was serving someone at the till. He looked up at the jingle of the ribboned curtain. His lips curved into a smile. ‘Do you still need me, Doriel? I thought I might walk Beth home.’ He turned to Beth. ‘If you’ll allow me, that is?’
‘Thanks, but there’s no need for you to go out into the cold. I always walk alone.’
‘I know, but I’d like to. May I?’ Jonan smiled, head tilted to one side.
‘In that case, yes, thank you.’
‘Of course, you go.’ Doriel nodded at Jonan, and then pulled Beth into a tight hug. ‘Come back soon. I may need your help. Don’t be a stranger.’
‘I will,’ she said, unsure what she was agreeing to. ‘See you soon.’
They stepped out into the cold. A gust of wind caught her full in the face and she burrowed down into her scarf.
Jonan pulled up the collar of his jacket. ‘Fancy a drink?’ He inclined his head towards the pub opposite the old flint clock tower.
‘I’d love to.’ Beth darted across the street to the warmth of the old-fashioned black-and-white building. She had always thought it looked rather wonky, as though the foundations weren’t straight. She’d never been in before but was curious. It had a strong energy to it that fizzed around the edges of her consciousness. Pulling the door open, she ducked through the low doorway. There was a gentle hum of conversation and the underlying smell of beer. A few locals were spread around the rough wooden tables, with one or two more sitting at the bar.
Jonan strode over and waved to the barman. The broad guy in his early twenties slung a tea towel over the shoulder of his fitted heavy-metal T-shirt. He took a pint glass down from the shelf. ‘The usual?’
‘Of course.’ Jonan looked at Beth, one eyebrow raised.
‘Gin and tonic please.’ A chill ran down her spine. She shivered.
‘Cold?’ Jonan asked, taking the drinks and leading the way to a small table in the back left-hand corner of the room.
‘No, there’s just something about this place.’
He turned to look at her. ‘You feel it then?’
‘You knew?’
‘Of course! I assumed you’d have gathered that much from Doriel.’
Beth slid onto the red, padded bench, behind a wooden post and leaned on the solid wood back. ‘Doriel was annoyingly discreet.’ She grinned and took a sip of gin and tonic. ‘I was hoping she’d spill the beans on you, but she wouldn’t tell me a thing. I’m not sure what I paid all that money for.’