British Astrological Society.'
The woman let out a snort then turned back to Clare. 'I've read your tarot cards, young girl. And you’re heading into mortal danger!’ She turned on her heel and marched back out of the door.
Clare looked at the other two women. ‘Mortal danger? What did she mean?’
'I wouldn't worry about any of her predictions. If she was any good, how come she didn't foresee that they were going to kick her off Mystic Meg's “Live Line” in The Sun ?'
The older women began cackling.
'Is that where she used to work?' asked Clare.
'Yeah, they caught her giving out her mobile number to callers. That's why she now works in a dump like this. Though she thinks she's above us, the snobby bitch.'
Suddenly the other woman said, 'Jesus, you'll be clocking up big time on that caller. The most I've ever kept one on for was nine minutes fifty-five. Just missed the ten minute bonus.'
'Nearly ten minutes? Most of mine have shot their bolt after about three!' said the other woman.
'Bloody hell - has my Ian been ringing you again?'
They all burst out laughing.
'Right,' said Clare. 'I'd better get back before he gives up on me.'
'Go for it girl!' said the older one as she left the kitchen once again.
Back in her cubicle she slipped her headset back on. 'Hello my child?'
'Yeah?' replied Rubble.
'I have studied my charts and the heavens look very promising for you over the next few weeks. As 3 a Piscean, the Zodiac's most energetic and forceful planet, Mars, is about to link with your star sign. This signals new horizons for you. The influence of idealistic Neptune is also growing, so if there are any ambitions inside you that you have long dreamed about, now is the perfect time to take action and go for them. What area do you work in my child?'
'I work on a farm. Have done all my life.'
Clare thought about the hard times faced by the farming industry. 'Well, perhaps...' she hesitated, 'perhaps changes will come from outside your present job.' Falling back on a fail-safe avenue, she said, 'How are your finances?'
'Finances?'
'Money. Could you do with more money?'
'Not really - I don't spend much.' The pips sounded. 'Hang on,' said Rubble, pressing his last two twenty pence pieces into the slot.
'You are on a pay phone?'
'Yeah - that's my last coins.'
'OK, then I must hurry. The future will smile on you. If not through your job, it will be another opportunity.'
'Could it be the army?' Rubble interrupted.
'Maybe.'
'I've tried to get into the army before.'
'Yes, maybe that is what I see ...' The pips sounded once more. 'If you would like to speak with me again, call my extension. Three zero four. I am here most nights each week, ask for Syl - '
The line went dead and Clare looked at the read out on her console. Twelve minutes eighteen seconds. She punched the air and shouted a silent Yes! at the ceiling.
In the call-box a moth crawled up the window, its wings a blur on its back. Rubble stood staring at the face of the girl in the faint light. 'Sylvie, three zero four,' he whispered. Then he pushed his way out of the booth and lumbered off into the darkness.
Chapter 9
Eric Maudsley sat in uneasy silence and tried to quell the feeling that he was a schoolboy, called before the headmaster. With hands folded in his lap he listened to the rapid tap-tap-tap of the secretary at her keyboard. Every couple of seconds she would strike the space bar with her thumb and the small thud it made gave her typing the semblance of some sort of erratic rhythm. Looking down at him from the surrounding wood panel walls were oil paintings of previous chancellors. Each one had their academic gown draped over their shoulders, the various coloured collars denoting which subject they had graduated in. He noted with interest how the style of portrait altered over the decades - chancellors from the pre-World War One period stared at him with an icy sobriety, the background of the painting a meticulous study of
The woman let out a snort then turned back to Clare. 'I've read your tarot cards, young girl. And you’re heading into mortal danger!’ She turned on her heel and marched back out of the door.
Clare looked at the other two women. ‘Mortal danger? What did she mean?’
'I wouldn't worry about any of her predictions. If she was any good, how come she didn't foresee that they were going to kick her off Mystic Meg's “Live Line” in The Sun ?'
The older women began cackling.
'Is that where she used to work?' asked Clare.
'Yeah, they caught her giving out her mobile number to callers. That's why she now works in a dump like this. Though she thinks she's above us, the snobby bitch.'
Suddenly the other woman said, 'Jesus, you'll be clocking up big time on that caller. The most I've ever kept one on for was nine minutes fifty-five. Just missed the ten minute bonus.'
'Nearly ten minutes? Most of mine have shot their bolt after about three!' said the other woman.
'Bloody hell - has my Ian been ringing you again?'
They all burst out laughing.
'Right,' said Clare. 'I'd better get back before he gives up on me.'
'Go for it girl!' said the older one as she left the kitchen once again.
Back in her cubicle she slipped her headset back on. 'Hello my child?'
'Yeah?' replied Rubble.
'I have studied my charts and the heavens look very promising for you over the next few weeks. As 3 a Piscean, the Zodiac's most energetic and forceful planet, Mars, is about to link with your star sign. This signals new horizons for you. The influence of idealistic Neptune is also growing, so if there are any ambitions inside you that you have long dreamed about, now is the perfect time to take action and go for them. What area do you work in my child?'
'I work on a farm. Have done all my life.'
Clare thought about the hard times faced by the farming industry. 'Well, perhaps...' she hesitated, 'perhaps changes will come from outside your present job.' Falling back on a fail-safe avenue, she said, 'How are your finances?'
'Finances?'
'Money. Could you do with more money?'
'Not really - I don't spend much.' The pips sounded. 'Hang on,' said Rubble, pressing his last two twenty pence pieces into the slot.
'You are on a pay phone?'
'Yeah - that's my last coins.'
'OK, then I must hurry. The future will smile on you. If not through your job, it will be another opportunity.'
'Could it be the army?' Rubble interrupted.
'Maybe.'
'I've tried to get into the army before.'
'Yes, maybe that is what I see ...' The pips sounded once more. 'If you would like to speak with me again, call my extension. Three zero four. I am here most nights each week, ask for Syl - '
The line went dead and Clare looked at the read out on her console. Twelve minutes eighteen seconds. She punched the air and shouted a silent Yes! at the ceiling.
In the call-box a moth crawled up the window, its wings a blur on its back. Rubble stood staring at the face of the girl in the faint light. 'Sylvie, three zero four,' he whispered. Then he pushed his way out of the booth and lumbered off into the darkness.
Chapter 9
Eric Maudsley sat in uneasy silence and tried to quell the feeling that he was a schoolboy, called before the headmaster. With hands folded in his lap he listened to the rapid tap-tap-tap of the secretary at her keyboard. Every couple of seconds she would strike the space bar with her thumb and the small thud it made gave her typing the semblance of some sort of erratic rhythm. Looking down at him from the surrounding wood panel walls were oil paintings of previous chancellors. Each one had their academic gown draped over their shoulders, the various coloured collars denoting which subject they had graduated in. He noted with interest how the style of portrait altered over the decades - chancellors from the pre-World War One period stared at him with an icy sobriety, the background of the painting a meticulous study of
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