Dead Jealous (5 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘Where’s Michael?’ Bob asked. He was sitting alone at the Formica table in the dreary gloom of the caravan, surrounded by pipe smoke that hung over the piles of books like mist over mountaintops.

Poppy climbed up the metal steps and slid into the bench across from him, breathing in the sickly-sweet tang of tobacco. Bob puffed on his pipe and blew out a smoke ring. It wobbled over the table, like a UFO that was out of fuel. Poppy swiped a hand at it, dispersing the smoke into the atmosphere.

‘I remembered the girl’s name – the one Beth was looking for,’ she said.

‘Oh aye?’

‘Maya.’

‘That’d be Sandra Flynn’s girl.’

‘You know her?’ Of course he knew her. Bob knew everyone.

Bob nodded. ‘Sandra Flynn, Quincy Trevelyan, me and a couple of others set up John Barleycorn back in the late eighties. Sandra stopped coming years ago. But the last couple of times her Maya started coming.’

Immediately, Poppy’s mind began turning over the possibilities. Beth’s Maya. What if she really was here and Beth never found her? Or what if she did find her – last night? ‘What about this year? Is she here?’

‘Aye, I reckon she is. Sam Wyatt said he’d seen her yesterday. She hasn’t registered or paid, but that’s not unusual. That girl don’t think rules apply to her.’

‘I should go and tell the police.’

‘Or you could keep an old man company.’

‘But—’

‘—And leave the investigating to them that gets paid to do it.’

Bob sucked in his lips until they disappeared behind the long silver beard. His pale blue eyes stayed trained on hers, fixing her in the seat. She wasn’t going anywhere.

‘Fine.’ Poppy sighed and flopped back against the worn-out cushions. She picked up a book on herb lore and began flicking through. The pages were filled with photographs of familiar hedgerow plants and their supposed medicinal qualities.

‘Read that book you sent me,’ Bob said.

She dumped the herbal on top of a three-inch thick tome on
Mysterious Britain
. ‘Oh yeah? What did you think?’

The old man nodded thoughtfully and tapped his pipe against his bottom lip. ‘Made a lot of sense. Course, it’s only science catching up with what Druids have known for millennia. Ask any Pagan and they’ll tell you that thought can affect the outcome of things.’

She might have known he’d say that. ‘But don’t you get it? It’s not a god, or goddess, or spirit. It’s science. It’s the way the universe works – quantum particles communicating with each other at a level we’re not conscious of. There is no god or spirit – it’s all rational and quantifiable. If we had the tools to measure it.’

Bob chuckled. ‘You say potato, I say p’tar-toe.’

Poppy found she was smiling. She was never going to convince Bob – he was a lost cause. But that was OK; there were some things in life – some
people
in life – who weren’t meant to change. They were meant to stay the same – like the cosmological constant. Change that and the whole universe would be thrown into a great almighty flux: up might be down, and gravity might disappear. Like her and Michael. Who knew what the quantum effects would be of them being anything more than friends? If they started going out then rivers might flood and a small Melanesian island might sink into the sea.

Bob clamped his pipe back in his mouth and puffed out a cloud of smoke.

‘I know you’re angry about your dad, lass. But that’s no reason to turn your back on all that you’ve been raised to respect.’

‘Why not? He has! But that isn’t why I don’t believe in...that stuff.’

‘Then why?’

Poppy shrugged. She began straightening the piles of books. ‘I suppose I just...’

‘Saw the light?’

‘Yeah.’ Science was light. What had religion ever done except divide people? ‘Yeah, I saw the light,’ she said, defiantly raising her gaze to meet Bob’s.

‘And it has nothing to do with nearly drowning?’

‘What? No!’

‘Only to be expected,’ Bob said, nodding. ‘People thinks they know about nature – think it’s all springtime and flowers blooming. All life and rebirth. Then there comes a time when they have to look the dark goddess straight in the eye and they don’t like what they see. People think of Mother Earth as a gentle lady. They forget that she’s also death.’

‘I know that,’ Poppy said, frustrated that he was treating her to a lecture from Paganism 101 when she’d grown up with the stuff. ‘That’s not why I don’t believe in it any more.’

‘Someone your age, not ready to die, well, it’s only natural to be scared of that side of the goddess.’

‘What had I ever done to her?’ she blurted. It was out before she could really think about what she was saying. ‘I mean – I – I don’t mean her – I’m just—’ She stared at the piles of books, searching for the words.

‘Angry,’ Bob said, gently. ‘Aye. I was pretty fucking angry myself, tell you the truth. I’m angry about that lass dying too.’

Poppy looked up. The old man stared steadily back, took the pipe from his mouth and blew out a smoke ring. The circle of swirling smoke danced between them, as fragile as the circle of life he was so keen on.

‘What makes you think she was murdered?’ Bob asked.

Poppy shrugged. ‘She wouldn’t have killed herself. She was too worried about Maya.’

‘From what I heard, they’re sayin’ it was an accident.’

‘Crap. She was fully clothed. Who goes into the lake fully clothed?’

‘You did.’

‘I was paddling.’

Bob’s face remained neutral. ‘Maybe she was paddling and slipped over, hit her head.’

‘She was murdered. I
know
she was murdered.’

‘How can you know?’

‘I just do!’ Poppy said, her blood pressure rising.

‘That your scientific opinion, or her quantum particles communicating with yours?’ He chewed the pipe, trying to hide a self-satisfied grin.

She rolled her eyes. ‘
Ha-ha!
’

Bob chuckled. He leaned forward and for a moment studied her. Sometimes, when the old Druid stared at her, she could almost believe that he saw things that others couldn’t.

‘You should go and have your cards read,’ he said, eventually.

What? She wasn’t about to waste her money on...
Hold on a minute
. ‘I thought you didn’t like Tarot? Thought you said it was misused by all and sundry?’

‘Interesting lad, that Tarot reader. The one that’s doing the workshop. Had a bit of a troubled past from what I hear. The craft set him on a different path though – changed his ways. Writes books now instead of burning them.’

‘That’s all very interesting but—’

‘—Him and Maya – they were an item last time I heard.’

‘Maya’s boyfriend is
here
?’ Poppy slid out of the bench. ‘He’s actually one of the workshop leaders?’

‘Jonathan knows him from years back.’

‘Sorry, Bob. I’ve gotta—’

‘—Now hold your horses.’

‘I’ve got to go and find him. He’ll know where Maya is.’

‘I said hold your damn horses!’

Poppy folded her arms. ‘All right – horses bridled and steady!’ she said, but her heart was skittering like a bucking pony.

‘Word of advice from an old heathen—’ He took down a tin from the shelf above him and took out some money and handed it to her. ‘Don’t go charging in there making accusations. Try for once to keep that tongue of yours from flapping. Listen to what the lad says. And for pity’s sake, don’t go lecturing him on physics.’

‘Beth could have spoken to him. He might know what happened. He could even be the killer. I mean, he couldn’t have liked Beth showing up – not if she fancied Maya.’

‘Boy’s not a killer. Wouldn’t let you go near him if I thought he was.’

‘That based on careful psychological profiling, or his quarks communicating with yours?’

‘Ha-ha!’ Bob chuckled. ‘You listen to the cards. Happen they might have something to tell you. And if Maya’s with him – you be careful around that girl. She’s trouble.’

CHAPTER NINE

Poppy scanned the marquee for someone who looked like a Tarot reader. The workshop had just about emptied out, but in the corner, beside a table piled high with books, a guy was holding court.

His head was shaved apart from one tuft at his forehead that was dyed green. His tanned, sculptured face was cocked to one side, listening to someone.

But hold on! She knew him. He was the guy who turned up last night, demanding to talk to her new stepdad. Bob had said they were friends, but Jonathan hadn’t treated this guy like a mate, he’d treated him like a patient who’d overstepped one of his carefully maintained professional boundaries.

She watched the Tarot reader handling the crowd with all the skill of a snake charmer. Last night he had been as agitated as the lake in a gale, but now he was calm and in control. He was sort of handsome, actually. There was something about him that reminded her of an exotic bird, a kind of deadly beauty.

Several women in the usual Pagan garb flocked around him, emitting nervous giggles every time he opened his mouth. It was like a scene from a school disco – just with added juju. But it didn’t look like any of them were
with
him. So where was Maya? Poppy sauntered over to the table and picked up one of the books. The front cover bore a Tarot card – the one with the world on it – and it was entitled
Tarot: A Road to Self-Discovery
by Kane Riverside.

‘I feel like I’ve learnt so much!’ one of the women was saying. ‘Like I’m learning to read the cards all over again.’

‘I’m glad the workshop inspired you,’ Kane said. His voice surprised Poppy. It was soft, posher than she remembered, and totally clashed with his green-haired, tattooed persona.

At that moment, his gaze drifted over the heads of the women to Poppy. His expression didn’t change, but the muscles in his neck visibly tensed. He stared at her, his wide eyes almost the same green as his hair, strange and unnatural. She knew she should look away, but he held her gaze like he had some kind of Superman tractor beam.

Poppy felt herself blushing. God, he was going to think she was one of his adoring concubines. She dropped his book back on the table and turned away – trying to find something else to focus on.

After a few more minutes of fan babble, she heard Kane excuse himself and a second later felt a presence beside her.

‘Did you want to buy a book?’ he asked.

Poppy bit her lip, felt in her pocket for the thirty quid Bob had given her and held it out to him. ‘I was hoping that you’d do a reading for me.’

His gaze travelled down to her chest. She was about to be morally outraged when she realised that he was just reading the logo on her sweatshirt. GOD IS DEAD. Bugger! She probably should have changed into something that was a bit less in his face.

He smirked and started towards the marquee entrance.

‘Put your money away,’ he called over his shoulder.

‘But…?’

‘Come on. It’s a long time since I did a reading for a signed-up sceptic.’

She followed him, almost having to run to keep up with his long strides. He led her away from the bustle of the tents, waving and acknowledging various people en route. They entered a small clearing on the edge of the lake where long twigs had been bent to form the skeleton of a sweat lodge.

For years, Poppy had been fascinated with all things Native American and had begged Bob’s friend, a Lakota medicine woman called Mo Little Wolf, to let her join the adults in the purification rite. Not this year though.

Kane stopped a little way from the lodge and sat cross-legged on the grass.

‘Take a pew, Sceptic,’ he said.

Poppy kneeled a couple of feet away from him and watched as he produced a silk-wrapped bundle out of his jeans pocket. The sun was trying to break out from behind the clouds, but the heavy grey battleships were doing a good job of holding the line.

‘I’m not a sceptic,’ she said.

He unwrapped the cards and spread out the square of brilliant green silk over the ground, making the grass look yellow and dreary. The guy definitely had a green theme going on. All a bit predictable really.

‘No?’

‘No.’ She tugged at her sweatshirt. ‘Haven’t you heard of irony?’

‘Is that what it is?’ He gave her a knowing look that made her wonder if he and Jonathan had talked about her. But Jonathan didn’t do that with clients. Or at least he wasn’t supposed to.

‘So why do you want me to read your cards? What are you hoping to get out of it?’ Kane asked.

She remembered the cover of his book. She shrugged. ‘Self-discovery. Isn’t that what Tarot is all about?’

‘And she didn’t even go to my workshop.’ His eyes flicked up at her. Amusement danced in them. He wasn’t her type – and he was
way
too old for her – but she could see what Maya saw in him. Something exciting and dangerous.

He handed her the pack of cards. ‘Shuffle them well and try not to think too many negative thoughts, Sceptic.’

‘My name’s
Poppy
,’ she said, shuffling the cards. She was dying to ask him about Maya and Beth but, remembering Bob’s warning, she kept her mouth shut. She would play along with this charade. For a while.

‘OK, that’ll do. Now spread them face down over the cloth and pick six cards.’

She did as she was directed. Kane gathered the rest of the cards and put them to the side. He took the six cards from Poppy and laid them face down in a row.

‘Pick a card,’ he said.

Poppy looked at the row of cards, grabbed the one second from the right and handed it to Kane.

He looked at it and hesitated. He ran a hand over his mouth and blinked hard.

‘What? What is it?’ she asked, before she could stop herself. She didn’t believe in this crap, but the way he looked at the card unnerved her.

Kane swallowed. ‘This is you.’

He placed the card in the centre of the green silk. The picture showed a young woman bound and blindfolded within a cage of swords.

‘Oh, great,’ she murmured. ‘That looks a bundle of laughs. What does it mean?’

‘A number of things. I’d say that you feel isolated, but that isolation is of your own making or the result of a crisis in your life. It also means that you are the subject of much jealousy, or that you are struggling with jealousy yourself.’ His eyes focused on her, as if he was waiting for her to confirm his totally groundless assessment of her character.

‘What else?’

‘That’s not enough? Hand me the next card.’ He took it from her and laid it next to the first. ‘This is the problem.’

The card showed a black-haired woman, also blindfolded, kneeling and holding two swords crossed at her neck as if about to do away with herself. Behind her, a lake stretched out into the distance, flat and calm like Scariswater.

It’s Beth. God, it’s Beth!

‘The Two of Swords. This card tells of violence, of trickery and deceit. Just what are you involved in, Sceptic?’ Kane asked.

‘I thought you weren’t meant to ask questions,’ she replied, not looking at him. ‘Thought that would compromise the reading?’

He said nothing, so she handed him the next card.

‘These are the options that face you.’ He placed the card under the other two and held his hand out for the next. ‘We’re always facing forks in the road – this is the one ahead of you. Interesting.’

‘Hmm?’

One card portrayed a knight on a galloping chestnut horse, holding aloft what looked like a club. The other was a king sat on a throne, holding a staff that was sprouting fresh green leaves, like a tree in spring.

‘What’s interesting?’

‘The first two cards were swords – two women, yet it seems your choice is between two wands – two men.’

‘And what is that supposed to mean?’

‘A dark-haired woman has brought you into conflict with two men? Does that ring any bells?’

‘No,’ Poppy said, quickly. Too quickly.

Kane’s cheek twitched as if he was trying to stop himself from smiling. ‘One of them is impetuous, the other thoughtful. One is ambitious and the other has a tendency to get lost. One represents all that is noble and honest, the other is more about immediacy and excitement.’

He was talking about Michael and Tariq. Shit. This was getting freaky. Or maybe not. Maybe it was some kind of quantum thing – he was just picking up on the stuff that was going through her head. Or maybe the stuff he was saying was so general that anyone would think that he was talking about a situation in their life.

‘Next card, Sceptic.’

Poppy handed him another.

‘This is what you need to make the right decision.’ He turned the card over and for once it was one that she recognised, one of the major arcana.

‘The Moon. Isn’t that about imagination?’ she asked.

He smiled, but his gaze was intense and searching – like it was him who was trying to get information out of her rather than the other way around. ‘When did you lose your faith, Sceptic?’

‘I never – I don’t know what you mean.’

‘The Moon is about more than imagination. You
know
what it’s about.’ He held her gaze and it felt like he could see through skin and bones – to what? Her soul?

‘Intuition,’ she conceded.

‘That’s right. The Moon governs not just the tides in oceans and lakes, but also the tides within us. The Moon reminds you that the only way that you will make the right decision is to trust in your intuition. Not to trust in your intuition could lead to…’ His lip curled at the corner. ‘…
lunacy
. This card is urging you to trust in that which you don’t believe,
Sceptic
.’

Her right leg had gone to sleep and something icy was slithering up her spine. She shifted and tugged her knees up to her chest, resisting the urge to shiver. ‘What did you do before you started playing with cards?’

‘I hated,’ Kane replied, softly, as if he was telling her he’d worked in a pre-school. ‘What happened to you to make you so angry, Sceptic?’

‘What do you mean, you hated?’

‘I was a Nazi. I used to beat up black people for fun. How did it happen, Poppy?’

‘I have
no idea
how you became a Nazi. Maybe you had a troubled childhood?’

‘That’s not what I meant.’

She’d had enough of this charade. Time to get what she came for. ‘Where’s Maya?’

Kane’s gaze dropped to the cards. He picked up the Eight of Swords, the one that he said represented her, and stared at it – his green eyes suddenly sad. ‘So that’s what this is about. What did she do to you, Poppy?’

‘Nothing. Beth, I met Beth.’

‘Who?’

‘Maya’s best friend? Beth? Her body was recently pulled out of the lake by me, actually.’

Kane’s gaze flicked back to Poppy. ‘Beth was the girl in the lake?’

‘Don’t tell me you hadn’t heard.’

‘I hadn’t.’

‘You can’t tell me that she didn’t come to see you. She was looking for Maya. She knew she was most likely with you.’

‘I never met Beth. I wouldn’t know her if I fell over her.’

‘But she was Maya’s best friend!’ The volume of her voice had risen to yelling. She swallowed and tried to rein in the frustration that was thrashing about in her chest.

Kane’s eyes hardened. ‘I never met the girl. Maya liked to keep us separate. Just one of the ways she manipulated everyone around her.’ He gathered up the cards, wrapped them in the green silk and got to his feet.

‘Hold on, where are you going?’

‘Reading’s over.’

Poppy pushed herself to her feet. ‘You didn’t finish.’

He walked in the direction of the canvas village. ‘I don’t need to see the rest of the cards.’

‘Maybe I do! Kane, wait!’

He stopped but didn’t turn around. Poppy ran in front of him and held out her hands to prevent him from leaving. He stared over her head, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her.

‘Is she here?’

His gaze stilled on the sky like he was reading the clouds, and spoke in a voice so far away it was almost as if he’d forgotten she was there. ‘She disappeared, Poppy.’

‘What do you mean? What happened?’

‘We had an argument at last year’s festival. She stormed off. I haven’t seen her since.’

He was lying. ‘But people have seen her.’

His gaze snapped down to her. ‘Here?’

‘Yes,
here
. So where is she?’

‘Poppy, listen to me. Maya has a gift. Some people would call it charisma, but it’s more than that. It’s something darker and more powerful. She has you wrapped up in her web before you know what’s happening and then it’s hard to get away. Be careful, she’ll have you dancing like a marionette.’

‘I’ve never met her.’

Kane snorted. ‘She doesn’t need to be anywhere near you to work you. She doesn’t need to be on the same plane to work you.’

‘She’s not
working
me. I just want to find out what happened to Beth.’

‘I can tell you what happened to Beth – she got involved with Maya.’

Poppy’s brow tightened. ‘Are you saying Maya killed Beth?’

‘She’d never do it herself. Never get her hands dirty – that’s not how she works. It’s just what happens to people who get involved with Maya.’

‘But Beth was in love with her.’

‘We all are. That’s why she can do what she does. Leave it alone, Sceptic. Go back to your Richard Dawkins books and tell yourself that you could understand the world if only you could fit it in your test tube.’

How did he know about that? No, he was sidetracking her; trying to throw her off the scent by screwing with her head.

‘What happened? What did you argue about?’

‘Forget you met Beth. Forget it all and walk away while you still can. Don’t mess with things you don’t believe in; otherwise you really could wind up dead in the lake.’

Her mouth dropped open and for a long moment no oxygen entered her lungs. How did he know about that? Had Jonathan told him? Why would he do that?

Kane barged past her and marched away.

‘Kane, wait!’

‘No.’

‘But you never finished my reading!’ Poppy shouted after him.

‘Death, Poppy. Your last card was Death.’