The Teller

The Teller

It was Sarah's first day back at work after the birth of Katie. Leaving
the baby with John had been tough but if she had put it off any longer
she knew that she'd never go back to work. Sarah had struggled long and
hard for her pitch on the promenade, a prime site like hers didn't come
up every day and there would always be a string of people waiting to
take it over if she ever let it become available. And anyway she loved
her job; a break from Katie would do them all good,she was sure.

It had taken Sarah longer than anticipated to get back to work. She had
been hit right between the eyes with the two-ton sledgehammer that
comes in the guise of post-natal depression. She was better now and it
felt so good to be able to appreciate the spring morning sunshine again
and hear bird song instead of the incessant high-pitched cries of a
frustrated baby. She loved Katie with a fierceness that terrified her;
she would do anything for her child, but today it was good to be a
working girl with carefree footsteps rather than a mother pushing a
pram.

Sarah, or the 'Mystic Madam Sambuka' as she was professionally known,
was a seaside fortune-teller. She read the cards, and gazed into her
crystal ball. If the punters fancied a cup of tea, she read the leaves,
and she studied astrological charts with furrowed brow, even though
they meant absolutely nothing to her. Madam Sambuka had the gift ? 'The
gift of the gab' that is. She told a convincing enough tale and made a
convincing enough living doing so. Nobody took what she did
seriously,least of all Sarah herself. She was vague enough and astute
enough to get a small percentage of details right. This kept her head
above water and the rest, well she just blagged her way through. It was
just a bit of harmless fun. The fake seafront fortune-teller is as much
a part of British heritage as donkey rides on the Golden Mile, and
candy floss in the Tunnel of Love. Sarah was always extremely careful
not to say anything hurtful or alarming. However, as part of her 'act'
Madam Sambuka had the reputation of being as blunt as her tongue was
sharp, and the `tellers tongue was sharp enough to slice through the
voicing of the roughest sceptic. But her clients knew it was all bluff
and usually went away with a smile on their face and a determined gait
as they strode off to find foretold tall dark clich?.

Sarah loved Morecambe, it was still very early in the season and the
sea was frisky. The waves seemed to be crashing in welcome to her as
they hit the sea wall. The inward tide brought a smell of the ocean
into her hair and as she strode against the fresh, spring breeze a
light spritzer of sea-spray freshened her face and made her lips
tingle. Several people spoke to Sarah as she made her way to the kiosk
and she joked with them and felt better than ever for it.

As she unlocked the metal shutters from the kiosk walls for the first
time in seven months, she felt a great happiness. It felt symbolically
as though she was taking huge shutters down from her spirit. This made
her feel guilty. After all Katie was the greatest joy ever to come into
her life. Wasn't she? Okay she and John hadn't been getting along too
well lately Sarah knew that she had been irritable and snappy, but that
was only to be expected with the upheaval of a new baby in the house.
All families went through a period of adjustment, it would be silly and
immature to expect it to be all roses round the door and honey in the
pot she told herself as the kiosk door finally creaked open. As long as
Katie was healthy and happy everything would be just fine. She couldn't
bear the thought of Katie suffering pain or sadness.

Sarah coughed as she inhaled the stale musty air that had been confined
in the little two room hut over the winter. "Hmmm this place needs a
good airing out" she told herself aloud "And so do I" For the next hour
she set about the place with duster and polish. She opened the window
and hummed along as she worked. One wall was covered with glossy
photographs of herself in full Madam Sambuka get-up alongside smiling
celebrities. It was sort of a first night tradition amongst the grease
paint set that before the opening performance at the Winter Gardens the
Celebes would pop along to Madam Sabbie for a reading. She was pictured
beside comedians and pop stars, actors of both stage and screen, and
even very 'grey suit'' stern faced newsreaders. The photos were good
for pulling in the punters, after all if Eric Morecambe had been to
Madam Sambuka for a reading, well she MUST be good eh?

After turning the gas fire on to full power, Sarah stepped into the
back room of the kiosk. "Time to bring the old witch back to life" she
said fondly. She dressed in a long purple velvet dress and tied a black
lace scarf around her waist gypsy style, and a bright, colourful one
around her shoulders. She applied heavy make-up, accentuating her eyes
and pandering to a bit of artistic licence with black eyeliner to draw
her eyes into a positively inhuman shape. Bright, bright lips and blue,
blue eyes over a thick layer of dark brown foundation gave her an
exaggerated Romany look, but only one thing could truly bring Sambuka
to life. Sarah lifted the wig off the white polystyrene head. Her own
short mousy hair was soon covered with a mane of jet black curls that
cascaded down her back in a splendour of gypsy brilliance. Sambuka was
BACK!

?And she didn't have long to wait for her first customer. The sign at
the front of the kiosk read "Appointments may not always be necessary
please knock and enter."
A timid almost reluctant knock preceded a tousled head and an even more
timid smile.
"Er Hello. Are you open? Do I need an appointment?"

The voice that came from the Mediteranian Gypsy was a full two octaves
lower than the true owner of the vocal chords and the practised Spanish
accent flowed with a full resonance that dominated the small
room.

"Si I open, wha? You think I seet `ere only to drink the nasty Eenglish
tea and die from cold? Si Of course you need appointment. Wha you
theenk I not busy. Madam Sambuka ees always busy."

"Oh I'm so sorry," said the other woman swatting at a loose strand of
hair distractedly "I'll ring to make an appointment"

With that she turned on her heel and virtually launched herself at the
two steps down to terra firma and escape. If it had occurred to her
that the kiosk had no phone line then she wasn't saying anything about
it.

"Eh? You? Why you let that man treat you like da donkey doo?" Madam
Sambuka shot at the woman's retreating back

The velocity of the verbal bullets hit their target. The thirty
something lady in the nondescript coat stopped in her tracks and
clutched her chest as though a bullet had indeed come through her
back.

"Excuse me?" She asked turning towards the fierce lady sitting at the
table in front of her.

"Why wha` you done? I need air freshener?" before the lady could leave
in affronted disgust Madam Sambuka threw in a little sweetener. She
knew just how far she could push and had become adept at playing her
customers, gauging how much she could get away with and playing the
line out enough to hook her victim.

"Si I know why you come. You very troubled. You think the great and
famous Madam Sambuka has all the answers. Si? Well you right. I do. Why
you need to lie to your man about money?"

The woman's eyes opened just a little wider. Sarah knew she had her
right where she wanted her. The old "Why you lie to your man about
money?" line got `em every time. Sarah now knew that at some point and
to some degree every woman in the country lied to her man about money.
Or if not then she had yet to 'read' one who didn't.

"I-I-I didn't mean to lie to him" The woman lowered her head in shame
and stammered out her pitiful defence. She cuddled into her low self
esteem as though it were a warm sweater. "He gets so upset if I over
spend on the weekly budget, so I thought that if I made do with cheaper
cuts of meat and own brands then he wouldn't miss a few pounds. Jack
needed things for school and?Well it's not as though he'd ever notice
them, He doesn't see much ? " she tailed off lamely.

"Aaahh ee might not but Madam Sambuka sees all" Sarah was ready to
throw in another wild card, she felt as though she almost knew this
man, or several like him. "Why ee not like you to wear make-up?"

The lady blushed furiously and put a hand up to her make-up free face.
Sarah felt a pang of pity for the woman who would have been very pretty
if she didn't look so downtrodden. "Oh he thinks make-up is cheap and
that only?" at this point she reddened a further two shades "? er women
of a certain nature wear it"

Sarah almost burst out laughing at her client's discomfort, but this
was too good an opportunity to miss. Apart from which she had to do
something to try and put the other woman at her ease. With a theatrical
flourish Madam Sambuka picked up her crystal ball from the table in
front of her and held it in front of her face. She tilted it this way
and that whilst turning her head at various angles. She furrowed her
brow, pursed her lips, furrowed her brow some more and then began a
conversation with her imaginary reflection. "Ee think you cheap tart
Sambuka. Wha you say to that?" Madam Sambuka turned to the bemused lady
and winked. "Madam Sambuka say ee need reading. Madam Sambuka sees all.
Madam Sambuka see dinky dick." With that she crooked her little finger
and waggled it towards the lady who was now smiling timidly.

"Ok back to biseenezz" Madam Sambuka replaced the crystal ball and
began rubbing her hands lightly over its surface. She peered intently
and frowned in concentration.
"Hhhm it very hazy, but things are come clearer. You will be very
happy. One day you look back and feel sad over wasted time but good
time comes to you soon. Your childrens will be very successful and give
you many grandbabies. And you live long and suffer good health. That be
Seven pounds fifty please"

The other woman sat up straight in her chair. Her eyes hardened and the
mousy handrag expression was replaced by one of affronted outrage,
albeit very mild affronted outrage, but there was no mistaking that the
affront and outright rage was there?. Somewhere.

"I'm Sorry but is that it?"

Madam Sambuka wrung her hands "Why you sorry? You no like Sambuka's
readings? Si? Wha you think you paying for Mystic Meg? She no do
excellent reading for seven leettle pounds and fifty pince. She no
throw in good luck talisman for good luck" Madam Sambuka reached into a
woven basket to the right hand side of the table and plucked 'as if by
magic' a small plastic pin in the vauge shape of an eye. "Is all seeing
eye, keep you safe and well. Si?" She smiled proudly as she passed over
the tacky trinket to the less than visibly impressed lady.

"Well wh what I mean is" the lady hardened her resolve "what I mean is"
she said in a firm voice "that it wasn't very specific was it? That
could apply to anyone"

"No you wrong" Madam Sambuka interrupted her " It not apply to little
old lady with no childrens. Si? It not apply to man in leather hat with
limp wrist. Si? It not apply to catholic priest. He ave childrens an
the bishop whoop his ass" Sambuka solemnly made a sign of the cross "It
apply to you"

Sarah never heard the lady's next words. Something was wrong. She
didn't feel at all normal. Her eyes closed and she became unable to
resist them. The next moment images and thoughts were coming into her
mind with her having no idea where they came from or what they were. As
she spoke her voice seemed to come to her from a long way distant. Her
eyes opened and she gazed at the lady seeing her in a totally new
light. Really seeing her for the first time since she stumbled through
the kiosk door. She felt rather than heard herself speak in her own
voice.

"Ok love, you want details and specifics? Then try these for size. Your
name is Mary Stephanie Walker. You are thirty-six years old and have
three children Jason, Amanda and Jack. Jason has a pile of soft porn
magazines hidden in the second draw down of his tall boy with the Black
Sabbath stickers all over it. This morning you faked three orgasms and
had a bowl of Museli with chopped bananas for breakfast. You don't take
sugar in you coffee. Your husband had an affair last year and you have
been trying to re-kindle some love in your failing marriage since
then."

Sarah tried to stop talking but couldn't. She watched the pain and
horror vying for position on the woman's face. Both were replaced with
something else? Fear. She shrank away from the fortune teller. Sarah
willed her mouth to close but continued talking despite all her efforts
to shut up.

"Amanda is seeing a boy three years older than herself behind your
back. You need to talk to her about it or she will lose her virginity
to him next Saturday night. In eight weeks time she will take her own
life When she is dumped by him and finds herself alone and
pregnant."

The woman ran from the kiosk clattering the chair onto the floor in her
wake. Sarah finally stopped talking and sat listening to her customer's
footsteps pounding down the pavement. They became more and more faint
until she couldn't hear them any more. Sarah flung off the wig and
threw it across the room, she buried her hands in her own damp hair to
try and stem the shaking. Trying desperately to make some sort of sense
of what had just happened, she failed miserably.

Sarah 'saw' things on the way home, things that she didn't want to see,
intrusive personal things that she had no business seeing. Some good,
some bad but all of them from some unknown place in the labyrinth of
her subconscious. She saw the sex of Jenny Parker's almost due baby.
The infant's name slithered into her mind and spoke itself aloud. She
saw Betty Harrison's boy fifteen years from now all grown up, happy and
comfortable with his homosexuality. Sarah moved away quickly as the
three-year-old grinned at her from his pushchair. She didn't want to
have to stop and talk to Mrs. Harrison.

Sally Peters had breast cancer, Jimmy Smith had pubic lice and Bill
Holmes had sexual relations with his Chiropodist three hours earlier.
Sarah avoided eye contact with all of these people. She didn't want to
know their lives, their ailments or their sordid secrets.

A dog moved cautiously towards her up the street, any passer by might
have guessed that it was lost and scared. The animal slinked along
holding himself close to the wall and eyeing his surroundings
suspiciously. Anyone might have guessed but Sarah didn't need to, she
knew that his bored owner had thrown him from the car and driven away.
Sarah even in her confused state would have stopped to help the poor
tormented beast but she didn't need to do that either. She saw that in
a couple of minutes Helen Jacob who lived near the park was going to
take pity on the dog. Helen had lost her mother the previous year and
this little unwanted soul was just the kick up the bum Helen needed to
re-start her life. Had someone forgotten to remind the powers that be
that Sarah was a fake psychic for Christ sake?

She let herself into the house and was greeted by the welcoming smell
of home cooking and her husband's tuneless but cheerful whistling. He
walked through from the kitchen in a frilly apron, lips pursed in
readiness for a kiss and arm extended proffering a glass of chilled
Lambrusco. She had to laugh at his mock simulation of 'the perfect
wife'.

Sarah's laugh was hacked from her mouth mid chortle. She clearly saw
John being passed over for the staff nurse promotion that he was so
sure was in the bag. He had worked so hard for that promotion, had done
so many extra shifts and deserved the position far more than the little
trollop three years his junior in both age and experience whom Sarah
saw would take the position. Her face clouded with the burden of
responsibility that this new found gift had lumbered her with.

"Wazzup Love?"

Sarah printed a plastic smile on her face and followed through with the
awaited kiss.
"Oh nothing pet just one of those busy days at the office. How's Mafia
kid, has she driven daddy insane yet?"
"Oh she knows exactly which buttons to push to have daddy run ragged,
and you think you've had a tough day. Jeez this parenting lark isn't
like it said in the brochure. She's fast asleep and honey I'd be really
grateful if you'd leave her that way, even if only for ten minutes or
so our daughters lungs need a break before the next symphony." John
grinned "So ze great Madam is feeling ze psychic pressure eh? I have a
bath run and ready for you, all you have to do is get your kit off and
hop in"

Sarah clutched at the chance of escape greedily. She needed some time
to think. A bath would be a good idea. "I do hope there is no ulterior
motive in being so attentive Mr, coz if there is you'll find me fast
asleep in ten seconds flat. I'm pooped. I'll have my bath and then look
in on Katie but I warn you if you've swapped her for a brochure kid who
never cries I might just want to start work on another one right away"
She gave John a squeeze and moved towards the stairs.

" I might just hold you to that promise lady, so don't you go falling
asleep in that bath. No rush love, take your time. Dinners on hold
until you yell in that sweet seductive bellow of yours that you are
ready for me to dish up."
Sarah remembered why she loved that man so much. God he was good.

At the top of the stairs she was about to turn right for the bathroom
when she stopped. She had a rush of maternal yearning that almost
knocked her down the stairs. She was drawn towards her daughter's
nursery. One little peep wouldn't hurt surely.

Sarah crept into Katie's room and smiled as she heard the baby's soft
snoring. It never failed to amaze her that something so small and
delicate could snore, But she reasoned after hearing the kid yell that
little snore was easy peasy She moved to the side of her daughters cot.
Katie lay on her back, the pillow ensuring she stayed on her side had
dislodged from her back. At just three months old the little madam was
getting some of her mother's spirit and her daddy's footballers legs.
Sarah felt a moment of deep gnawing worry. What if she'd been at work
and Katie had suffocated on the pillow, or choked on her vomit or been
bitten by a funnel web spider. Okay so funnel web spiders were less
than prolific in Morecambe, in fact the closest Morecambe had ever come
to a funnel web spider was a rubber Incey on elastic from the joke
shop, but you never know anything could happen to a vulnerable baby.
Sarah couldn't bear the thought of anything bad happening to
Katie.

The baby's hair was damp and stuck to her forehead with perspiration.
Every so often she made a little sucking noise in her sleep and when
she pursed her lips the little sucking blister on her top lip showed
itself like a fresh rose bud. Sarah felt her breasts begin to leak as
if on cue. Surely no body had ever felt such intense love as this
before. Katie was perfect and John and Sarah worked hard to provide the
best life they could for her.

Sarah leaned over the cot and stroked her little girls' hand. Katie
didn't wake up but instinctively grabbed hold of her mother's finger
and held it in her tiny fist. This seemed to jolt Sarah into another
vision phase.

Katies life began to roll like Cine film. When she was three she would
have German measles. At seven years old, Blue the family dog would die.
Katie would be devastated and cry for a week. Sarah ached for the death
of her dog who had seven good years left and for the sorrow of her
child. At nine she would fall off her new bike and chip her front
tooth. Nine years old was far too young to have a tooth capped. When
Katie was fourteen she would suffer her first three broken hearts.
Sarah was dismayed to learn that Katie would fail one of her GCSE
exams. She saw fights over the breakfast table when Katie became
hormonal and tears over a measly few gained pounds. She saw laughter
and tears over many trivialities but only the tears made an impact on
Sarah.

How could she allow her child to suffer the hurt of growing up? So many
tears in those first eighteen years. Until now she had never once
thought of her daughter feeling unhappiness. Her daydreams had only
been filled with joyous laughter. How could any mother bring a child
into the world knowing that it was going to suffer capped teeth and
broken dates. Sarah tried to sort her feelings logically, but couldn't
all she could focus on was the image of Katie crying into her 'boy
band' decorated pillow.

Three fat tears dropped from her face onto Katie's head. The baby
stirred in her sleep but didn't wake. Sarah carefully pulled her finger
from Katie's grip and reached for the pillow that was used for holding
Katie firmly on her side and not allowing her to roll backwards.

"I love you Sweet Katie and couldn't bear you to have
unhappiness"

Slowly she lowered the pillow.

EPILOGUE

"Do I really look all right mum?"

"You look like a fairy princess my darling, and I have never been more
proud of you than I am today. You will make Michael a wonderful wife.
He's devoted to you."

"I know Mum, but I wouldn't be the person I am today without all the
love you and Dad have given me. And to think I nearly didn't make it
past babyhood. Did you really, really try to kill me Mum?"

Sarah's eyes clouded over with the memory of that awful time twenty-two
years ago.

"Yes my love I really did almost suffocate you. If it hadn't been for
your Dad coming in at that moment? Luckily that was the turning point
for us. Nobody had taken the Post Natal Depression seriously until
then. I was taken into hospital put on the correct drugs to control my
depression and given anti-psychotic drugs to combat the hallucinations
and belief that I really could see into the future."

Sarah managed a weak smile and Katie squeezed her hand
reassuringly.

"Your Mum was nuts love, one wave past a shipwreck, batty a buttress of
fruit bats. I'm not going to go over the whole tale again from thread
to needle. Enough to say that I'm very glad that I wasn't crushed nuts
for long. By the time Adrian was born we knew what to look out for and
managed to stop it before the rot set in. Funny that, because of the
PND I suffered after having you, we almost decided not to have any more
children. Imagine the joy we would have missed out on without you
two.
Now my lovely daughter quit it with the morbid talk, I believe we have
a wedding to attend. Oh and I have a message for you from Madam
Sambuka. She seez a long and `appy future and many, many babies for you
Si?"