Madame P Light

Madame P Light stared imposingly from her posters on the billboards under the Huddersfield bypass bridge and next to the doors of the theatre. In the posters she wore a form fitting gold and purple dress, as well as oversized green silk turban, with a large jewel set between the lines that she drew in place of her eyebrows, banished no doubt by years of plucking. Her fingers held more than a dozen rings, as well as the obligatory crystal ball, whilst she sat behind a lace covered table. Around her picture were splashed adjectives “amazing”, “astounding”, “magnificent” and details of the opening times of her parlour for performances.

In the past she had a steady flow of clients wanting their fortunes read or those of their children. Would they ever marry into money? Was there any chance that Billy would learn to read? When was the right time to run away to Australia? Some of the questions were seemingly easy, of course Doreen Rimblewart wasn’t going to marry a millionaire but just saying no wasn’t going to pay the bills or pay for costume jewellery, so she had to be delicately vague in her answering. “The answer is unclear right now my dear but maybe it will appear to me next week, but I would definitely check out that mole on your neck when you are next at the doctors…” She smiled kindly at the parents of little Billy, he could read faces beautifully, he mirrored emotions better than most children, but reading was a big challenge for him, so she muttered something about “not worrying about academic performance when he was obviously a strong boy”. Like most boys at that time there was a clear past for him, he was going down the mill as soon as he came of age, he wouldn’t be doing much reading down there anyway…

With some of her customers the questions were harder, so she made judgements based on their appearance, not just the make of the clothes or lack of visible logos but other cues. When they came in with freshly cut and coloured hair, she smiled to herself and tried to give them a half answer that would make them come back and spend more money with her; however, there were the people on the other end of the spectrum… Those were the toughest performances when people had scrapped together enough money to come to her for answers, looking for a little hope. Some of them came in from the streets with stained and soiled clothes after nights of rough sleeping, it made her thankful for the incense that burned around her as part of her as part of the scene setting. There were others who came in with hastily applied makeup layered over their bruises, wearing long sleeves even when the weather was hot.

In these instances, she tried to distance herself from her real feelings, she embodied the character she was playing, the mysterious fortune teller who could tell them about what was to come for a fee. Only occasionally did she refuse the fee, rent and incense wasn’t cheap, it seemed wrong to con those who had nothing none the less. Sometimes she would tell them that the future wanted them to keep the money, at others she dropped it and pretended not to see it fall in front of her clients until they had scooped it up. It was a farce but that’s how she managed to sleep at night.

On the thirteenth of November Madame P Light went to bed feeling a bit wobbly, it’s probably just a bit too much gin she thought. That night a storm blew outside whipping the trees back and forth, in her bedroom flashes of light burst from every corner, purple and white balls formed in the air whilst the still sleeping body of the fortune teller rose into the air. The two balls of what looked like light or electricity circled her closely from head to two before sinking into her floating slumbering form, then as the energy frazzled out from the room she slowly descended back down to her bed. In the morning Madame P Light woke up shivering, she felt freezing cold for ten minutes then boiling hot for the next ten, this carried on for the first few hours of the day until she could crawl down to the kitchen for her first cup of tea of that day.

As she cradled her massive white mug with Sports Direct written in large letters on the side, she wondered what was going on, there weren’t any viruses going around that she knew of, and she hadn’t eaten anything suspicious. As the tea warmed her up, she felt the shivering subside only to be replaced by a strange tingling feeling, she chalked it up to the weather and got up to prepare herself for the day. It wasn’t until after she had got up and put her face on that it occurred to her that there might be something strange happening. She caught the bottle of perfume the cat knocked from her dressing table, guessed what the next song was on the radio without fail and ducked the clothes avalanche that fell from her wardrobe. Strange she thought then lined her eyes with black eyeliner, nodding in approval at the face she saw in the mirror she picked up her handbag and headed to the door.

On the way to her performance parlour next to the laundrette and the antiques shop she grabbed a cyclist before he collided with a white van much to both of their confusion. Initially the cyclist swore at her, in his neon yellow lycra and a face as red as tomato ketchup, then when the white van scraped past his front wheel he stopped talking. Madame Light frowned, went a little pale then quickly patted him on the arm and shuffled off towards the parlour. Did I actually see the future? She wondered to herself before shaking her head, I’m starting to believe my own lies…

Unlocking the door, she was hit by visions of smiling people, frowns, shouting, a family storming out, it was very fast and frightening, she found herself on her knees with multicoloured spots dancing before her eyes. She closed her eyes and muttered to herself “don’t worry be happy, don’t worry be happy…” before pulling herself upright to push open the door. The sweet smell of yesterday’s incense hung in the air, it sat on all of the velvet chairs and clung to the many jewel-coloured throws scattered around the room. After making another cup of tea, setting up the next lot of incense sticks, lining up the candles and getting the old turban from the box she sat in her oversized chair clutching an old red and gold teacup to her chest as much for comfort as for warmth.

Later when the teacup was empty, and the day was a little older she put on her turban and waited for her clients. That stumble at the door was just a funny spell she told herself as she polished her crystal ball in anticipation of her 10 o’clock appointment with Miss Green, it’s just another day with a few performances, that’s all… A jingle of bells announced the arrival of Miss Green a timid looking woman in her late twenties wearing a large black coat, purple corduroy trousers and black converse trainers and pink hair which ended at her shoulders. The image of a smile flashed up in Madame Light’s mind as the woman walked nervously towards her, I’m sure it’s just because she’s nice Madame Light thought.  

“Take a seat and tell me what you wish to know!”

Miss Green nodded and self consciously sat on the old red velvet chair opposite Madame Light, “erm… well I’m Catherine Green and er… I want to know if… well this is going to sound silly…”

“There is no such thing as a silly question my dear!” Madame Light chuckled as she leaned over her crystal ball. 

         “Well, the thing is I was wondering if I was going to get the job that I am interviewing for? The job as… well… as a teaching assistant in a school?”

“My dear, that was not at all a silly question, now let me look into the future for you.”

She turned on the light under the table that made the crystal ball glow, waved her arms artfully around the glowing orb while getting a little closer to it. Normally she would widen her eyes before squinting dramatically at the ball a few times, umming and oohing as she went, this time however she glanced down and found herself floating in white a room watching Miss Green shaking hands with three people, then she saw Miss Green sat on a bus answering a phone call with a frown, which was soon replaced by a smile and a “really? Starting on Monday?” Next, she saw her walking through the doors of the local secondary school and shaking hands with a man in a grey suit.

Madame Light blinked and looked up, trying not to give everything away straight away she tried her best to look serious and foreboding “in order to foretell the future you must first cross my palm with gold…” Miss Green looked at her in a confused manner “although cash is also acceptable my dear or even card payments I guess…” Madame Light held out her left palm towards Miss Green who nodded and placed a £20 note in her hand. Madame Light slowly drew her hand back, held the note up to the light before placing it in a bejewelled box on a stand near her chair.

“First you must speak in words bold and proud before persons three will shake your hand, should you do as I command then the job you desire you will land” Madame Light told her, the delivery was all part of the performance. Miss Green sat there and thought about her words for a moment “so I’ll get it then?” Madame Light nodded her head slightly so the turban would not fall off exposing her thinning white hair. Her client smiled at her, “thank you so much!” She started to get up and just as she stepped out of the chair she stopped to ask, “is there anything else I need to know?” Madame Light glanced down at the crystal ball once more, it had been a short reading many she could throw in one more prediction…

This time she felt her mind being dragged into the future by the crystal ball it started off slowly with lots of snippets of Miss Green enjoying working with her students, before speeding up through time to a cold day outside the school with a churning stomach, and wait, was that a zombie?!? Suddenly, she was back with Miss Green in the parlour and only a few seconds seemed to have passed. Madame Light blinked a couple of times before remembering the question, “right… all will be fine as long as you listen to your gut” she nodded at her hoping that this might serve as a warning. Miss Green raised an eyebrow before smiling at her and wishing her goodbye.

Once she was alone Madame Light took off the turban and scratched her head. So that’s what seeing the future is like… she mused, it was tiring so she scurried off to the back room to raid her biscuit barrel and put the kettle on again. She had a few more appointments due that day, not counting the occasional walk-in clients who decided to pop in out of curiosity. It’s going to be a long day she thought, but then sat bolt upright did I think that, or did I predict that?

The rest of the day passed in a blur of people coming and going. Some performances were fast, and it was easy for her to give them good news, others were more difficult when she saw terrible futures and struggled to sugar coat them. After the last customer slammed the door spinning the open sign to closed, as they did so Madame Light threw her turban on to the floor. Her eyes felt hot, and tears prickled, before spilling down her cheeks carrying half of her eyeliner with them in shiny black spider webs. She had seen all the paths hidden to her before, the futures that she might have anticipated but ignored and the pain that her lies were allowing. Of course, Ms Roberts would find a husband this year, but she wouldn’t grow old with him or anyone else. The Thompsons would win money in the lottery. but it wouldn’t be the jackpot they desired… She cursed herself for her foolishness in looking where into things she shouldn’t know.

There were times when she saw only positive things, but they were rare, much rarer than the negative outcomes she thought as she wailed to herself. Through her tears she saw the crystal ball sitting shining on her table, raising her hand she went to smash it, then found herself stopping just short. Resting her hand on it Madame P Light remembered that she didn’t have any other skills to fall back on, with a big sigh she placed her hand next to it on the table. Shutting her eyes and gritting her teeth she picked up the turban and put it back in it’s box, well maybe it’s finally time to start telling the truth.