Read Online A Question of Love by Isabel Wolff - Free Book Online Page B

direction,’ she announced. That’s very insightful, I thought cynically. ‘You’ve been unhappy.’ Yeah. Who hasn’t? ‘But your mood is lifting.’ Stunning percipience, I said to myself. ‘Romance is in the air.’ Her guesses were getting warmer. I thought happily of Luke. She closed her eyes, inhaled noisily—the end of her nose twitching like some woodland mammal—then she opened them again. ‘You’re taking control of your life,’ she declared. Like most professional women of my age. This really was tosh. I’d humoured her long enough. But now Cynthia closed her eyes again, as though she’d fallen into a deep, deep sleep. In the ensuing silence I found myself gazing at her eyelids, which were crepey with age, and frosted with silver eye shadow. I was aware of the tick of my carriage clock—a wedding present from my parents—on the mantelpiece. And I was just wondering how long Cynthia was going to stay like that and at what point it would be polite to wake her, when she suddenly re-opened her eyes, wide, and stared at me with an intensity which startled me.
    ‘You’ve lost someone,’ she said in a voice that was no longer husky and theatrical, but clear and penetrating. ‘Haven’t you? Someone’s missing from your life. Someone who was very important to you. But there was a… tragedy , and now he’s gone.’ I was aware of a strange, warm feeling, from my toes to my sternum, as though I’d been dipped in hot wax. ‘You’ve been bereft, Laura.’ She closed her eyes again, inhaling deeply. ‘Bereaved.’ Another silence descended which seemed to hum and throb. Then she opened her eyes. ‘Isn’t that right, Laura?’ I stared at her . ‘Isn’t it?’ I could hear myself breathe.
    ‘Yes. It is.’ I heard myself say.
    ‘I knew it!’ she exclaimed happily, evincing more delight at the apparent accuracy of her analysis than any concern for me. ‘I sensed it the second I laid eyes on you. I could feel it—’ she looked around the room, then shivered slightly—‘there’s a very high vibratory level in here. Anyway,’ she added. ‘Let’s carry on.’
    ‘I’d rather not,’ I protested. But still she kept hold of my hand. ‘Really, Cynthia.’ I tried to withdraw it. ‘I think we’ve done enough .’ She looked into the distance again, this time blinking rapidly. Then she clapped her left hand to her chest.
    ‘I can see him.’
    ‘You what?’
    ‘I can see him. Quite clearly.’ Now I felt not so much warm, as chilled. ‘He’s standing in a field…a field full of…’ she drew in her breath, her eyes widening in wonderment, ‘… flowers . Beautiful flowers. He’s surrounded by them. It’s a marvellous sight. But even though he has all these exquisite flowers around him, he’s looking mournful and sad.’
    ‘I’d like to stop now.’ I reclaimed my hand with a sharp tug. I could still feel the pressure of her fingers on my wrist. ‘He isn’t in a field of flowers. That’s absurd.’
    ‘No. It’s not . It’s quite true. But that’s not all. There’s someone else.’ I felt sick. ‘Isn’t there?’ I stared at her.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I mean that there isn’t just one person missing from your life—there are two.’ I felt the hairs on my neck rise up. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. ‘I can’t see the second person, but I can feel their…presence. I can feel it.’ I got to my feet. ‘You didn’t know them for long…but you loved them. You didn’t want it to end…Now,’ she said benignly, ‘does that mean anything to you?’ I stared at her, aware that goose bumps had stippled my arms. ‘Does it?’
    ‘No,’ I said. ‘Not a thing. No.’
    ‘It gave me the creeps,’ I told Felicity the following evening. I was sitting at her kitchen table in Moorhouse Road with Olivia gurgling on my lap, while Fliss washed the salad at the butler sink. ‘She said that she could see Nick standing in a field of flowers. What