All That She Can See(24)

The Tower





‘Those who look for the bad in people will surely find it.’

Abraham Lincoln





9





The Rivalry Begins





Cherry had never had enemies. She had always been too reserved and too quiet to make friends, let alone have anyone notice her enough to actually turn on her. But now she was sure that she had an enemy in Chase and she already knew she didn’t like it.

‘What did he mean, he’s trying to learn from me?’ Cherry paced up and down the bakery later that evening once she’d closed up. ‘What does that even mean? What is he going to try?’

Bruce and Sally had kindly offered to stay and chat for a while, to make sure Cherry was all right before they went home. Margie had seen their silhouettes on her way home from work and had come to investigate so she was helping Cherry wipe down the tables. Cherry loved that she’d made friends and had people to talk to but she had to tread carefully and be mindful of what she was saying. No one knew her secret. Except for Chase.

‘I haven’t the foggiest,’ Bruce said, scratching his stubbled chin. ‘He’s always been an odd chap. Never managed to get any of his businesses off the ground.’

‘Businesses?’ Cherry asked.

‘Yeah. He’s made several attempts,’ Bruce said with a wry smile. ‘A delivery service, personalised Christmas decorations, he was even a driving instructor for a while but all his students kept crying. Even tried getting a normal job once, too, in the local pub, but he didn’t make it easy for himself. He insisted on flair bartending. He was actually quite good and it would have gone well if he hadn’t been such a wind-up merchant. After a few words from him, a brawl would always kick off.’

‘“Flair bartending”? Never heard of it.’ Cherry shook her head.

‘It’s where those show-offs who think they’re clever take twenty minutes to pour you a drink because they’re too busy flipping the bottles and glasses about. It’s funny when they drop ’em though,’ Bruce laughed.

‘I always quite like watching it,’ Margie said quietly. ‘It’s like Cirque du Soleil for alcohol.’

‘I suppose it is.’ Bruce smiled at Margie and she blushed. ‘It’s not the flair bartending so much as Chase himself. He’s just not a pleasant sort. He’s not like you, Cherry.’ Cherry batted the air like she was swatting away his compliment. ‘I mean it. You’re a breath of fresh air in this town. No one wants to work with Chase or help him and he’s too proud to ask. Too arrogant, even. Thinks he doesn’t need the help of people like us to succeed. Shame really. He’s very bright. Just a bit… misguided.’

‘I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, Cherry. He’s a strange one – always has been,’ Sally reassured her, but Cherry couldn’t help but worry. Besides Peter, Cherry had never met anyone like her. As a child she’d dreamed of entire families who had the same ability she had, and who all used it to help those around them and do some good. She hoped that one day she would find a family of her own somewhere in among the people who saw the world as she did. Cherry had never expected there to be so few like her and she certainly never expected someone like Chase Masters to share her gift. He was too wild, too untamed. Cherry got the impression that he saw his ability as an affliction rather than something to hone and embrace and use to help others. Cherry worried about what that might mean for both of them, living in such close proximity, and already adversaries. It also made Cherry want to help him.

‘What do you expect from the son of a palm reader! Oh – sorry, Sally. No offence intended,’ Margie said, colouring in embarrassment at her faux pas.

‘None taken, love. We’re an odd sort of person and I’m sure if I’d had children they’d be just as mad as me,’ Sally said kindly.

‘He’s the son of a palm reader?’ Cherry asked.

‘Yes. His mother and aunt run that fortune-telling place in The Barbican together,’ Sally said.

Cherry remembered the woman who had poked her head out of the shop on the day she’d visited The Barbican, the day she’d met Chase, and wondered if it had been his mother or his aunt. Sally was twirling one finger by the side of her head and crossing her eyes at Margie who couldn’t help but snigger.

‘You think they’re mad?’ Cherry asked, surprised. ‘Aren’t you all in the same profession?’

‘It’s one thing to entertain folk with your ideas of what their future could be, based on cards they draw. It’s another to claim supernatural powers and charge people large sums of money for guesswork masquerading as fact!’ Sally was talking quickly, her voice rising. ‘Sorry. I’m sorry.’

Bruce put a calming hand on her shoulder. Cherry couldn’t help but notice Margie’s eyes flicking towards that affectionate touch and then looking quickly back down at her feet.

‘I just get wound up by people who give others false hope,’ Sally explained. ‘I tell all the people I read for to take everything I say with a pinch of salt. Everyone’s future is like a work of art. It can be interpreted in many ways and even then it will constantly change with every decision you make. Everything I say is factual at that moment in time but by the time you’ve made another decision, something as simple as having tea instead of coffee or ice cream instead of chocolate, you’ve started down another path that could lead to another future. A future that hasn’t been read yet.’