Part 30 (1/2)

'What?' Imogen was frowning, her face pale in the half-light.

'I'm not sure...' Katie started. The breeze grew stronger, her hair was flying now and she was amazed that Imogen hadn't noticed. Her eyes began to water, her ears were numb. 'I don't-'

'Come on.' Imogen tapped the Queen of Hearts. 'I want to know whether Dan is in love with me. Whether he dreams about me every night. Whether he's going to ask me out.'

Katie stood up, letting the pack of cards in her lap scatter over the floor. 'I'm starving. Let's raid the kitchen.' She looked at Imogen and, trying to mean her words with every fibre of her being, trying to make them perfectly and utterly true, said, 'You look really pale, Imogen. You must be very hungry.'

Imogen got to her feet so quickly that Katie had to step back to avoid a collision.

Imogen's eyes looked unfocused and she said, 'G.o.d, I really want some salt and vinegar crisps.'

Well, that was interesting, Katie thought.

Chapter 20.

The next day, Katie went to her favourite shop, hoping to find answers. Was it possible that she had made Imogen feel hungry? If she was able to control the way people felt, she'd have a much easier time in school, that was for sure.

The Crystal Cave was filled with slices of marbled agate, packs of tarot cards nestled in carved wooden boxes, paper packages of incense, and books on everything from fortune-telling to Buddhism. The man who ran the place had white hair and a neatly clipped beard. He wore a braided leather belt and looked like a refugee from seventies San Francisco. He was also exceedingly suspicious of Katie, evading her questions regarding his stock, but she didn't care.

After sniffing all the scented candles, studying the most expensive crystals in the locked gla.s.s cabinet, and handling a stone statue of an Indian G.o.ddess until Mr Seventies felt the need to inform her that all breakages had to be paid for, Katie was none the wiser. She left the warm embrace of the shop for the sharp winter air of the street and was immediately stopped by a man in a suit.

'Could you tell me what you just bought in there?'

'Sorry?' For a moment, Katie panicked that she'd accidentally shoplifted something. Imogen was always nicking make-up in Superdrug and perhaps she'd picked up the tendency without even realising it.

The man stood a little too close and was staring at her in quite a disturbing way. He dug a gadget out from his pocket and held it in front of her face. 'I'm from The Chronicle. Can I have a word?'

Katie stared at the Dictaphone for a moment, trying to make sense of the situation. 'What? Why?' she said.

'Are you a Satanist? Did you buy chicken blood? A voodoo doll?'

'Sorry?'

'Hey!' A woman crossed the road. 'Stop hara.s.sing that girl.'

'We're just having a chat.' He looked at Katie. 'Right?'

'I don't want to talk to you,' Katie said, suddenly feeling as if she might cry.

'You heard her.' The woman was furious. 'Get out of here before I call the police.'

'All right, all right.' The man clicked a b.u.t.ton on his Dictaphone and slipped it back into his coat pocket.

Katie watched, relieved, as he walked away. He got into an old navy BMW that was parked on double yellows. 'Thanks,' Katie said.

'No problem.' The woman flicked perfectly highlighted hair out from her eyes. 'People like us have got to stick together.'

'So he was a reporter or something. I don't understand why-' Katie stopped. 'What do you mean, ”people like us”?'

'He wanted to talk to you because he saw you coming out of there.' The woman indicated The Crystal Cave.

'I don't understand.'

'His name's Ryan. He's been trying to work up a story on Satanism in Pendleford for a while now. He's really sc.r.a.ping the barrel if he's accosting school kids on the street. No offence.'

'How do you know?'

'Look, you've just had a bit of a shock,' the blonde woman said. 'Can I give you a lift anywhere?'

'I'm getting the bus to Bath,' Katie said, then realised that she probably shouldn't be telling this woman anything. Stranger danger and all that.

'I'll walk with you to the stop. I feel like I should check you're okay. And apologise.'

'What for?' Katie fell into step with the woman. She was tiny, shorter than Katie by an inch or two, and very skinny. She wasn't exactly threatening.

'He's been after a story for a while, but I won't give him one. If I had, he probably wouldn't have spoken to you. I feel responsible.'

Well, that was stupid. 'It's not your fault.'

'Well. Anyway.' The woman took a business card out of her handbag and pa.s.sed it across. 'Take my number.'

Katie took the card. It had a mobile number underneath the word 'fixer' and had yellow daisies printed around edges that were raised slightly. Katie ran her thumb over them.

'What do you fix?'

'All kinds of things.' The woman smiled.

'Isn't that a Mafia thing? From the movies?'

Her smile got even bigger. 'That's where I got it from. You like it?'

'Yeah. It's cool.' Katie laughed. 'But I still don't know what you mean. Do you do home repairs or what?'

'Gutters and leaky roofs? Hardly,' the woman said. 'More like marriages.'

'So you're a kind of therapist.'

'Oh, come on.' The woman's tone was vaguely chiding. 'You know exactly what I am.' She smiled and Katie noticed how incredibly white her teeth were.

At the bus stop, the blonde woman patted Katie on the shoulder. 'It was very nice to meet you. Do call me if you need anything at all.' She smiled again and Katie wondered what toothpaste she used. 'I'm always available for you, Katie Harper.'

'I'm not Harper,' Katie said. 'I'm Katie Moore.' But the woman was already walking away.

Gwen walked past Cam's secretary and she jumped up. 'He's fully booked today-'

'It's fine, Melissa. I've got an appointment.'