I never thought Id end up sharing a compartment with a fortuneteller on the 08:15 from London Kings Cross to Edinburgh. She was a strikingly welldressed woman in her early thirties, a brunette with a sharp bob and a figure that would make the most voluptuous of us look gaunt by comparison. Her smile was friendly, her chatter constant, but there was something odd about her eyes. Of course, I couldnt see them she wore dark sunglasses even though the sky outside was a drab, overcast grey, the kind of day when the clouds seem to swallow the whole horizon. Perhaps she was trying to hide dark circles or a bruise; that sort of thing isnt unheard of.
I kept looking for a reason to justify what felt like an unusual request, and I found plenty. Yet curiosity gnawed at me. We didnt know each other. All I knew was that she introduced herself as Megan and mentioned she worked somewhere in the service industry. Asking a nearstranger, Why are you wearing sunglasses in such gloom? felt a bit intrusive, especially if she had some eye condition.
So I kept quiet and made small talk, the kind people exchange on trains when theyre strangers. Then, after a moment, she leaned forward, her voice changing in tone, and said:
James, shall I give you a reading? Im rather good at it. My greatgrandmother was a professional fortuneteller, the genuine article, not one of those charlatans you see everywhere these days. Dont you want to know a glimpse of your future? Its fascinating, isnt it?
I shrugged, halfamused, halfuneasy. No, thank you. Im not much for cards or any of that nonsense.
She smiled, a little too brightly, and replied, Then you have nothing to fear.
I tried to sound confident, Im just not interested, thats all. My voice came out steadier than I felt, and I could see the corner of her mouth twitch.
Its your call, she said. No one can force you.
She paused, as if a strange itch had risen inside her. If she could scratch it from the inside, she would have. Then, unexpectedly, she added, Well then, why not give it a go? The turn of events made me uneasy, but I opened my mouth to protest. Instead, I gave her a polite smile.
Megan nodded, reached into her handbag, and pulled out a velvety pouch. She set a deck of cards on the small table between us. She lifted her sunglasses, and two massive tinted lenses covered her eyes completely. My heart gave a little jump.
How are you going to read the cards? You cant see a thing, I whispered, a little frightened.
Dont worry, James, she said, voice calm. I feel the cards; I know each one by touch. I dont have many amusements in life, so lets begin, shall we? She slipped her glasses back on, hiding those intimidating eyes.
I shrugged again, forgetting that she couldnt see my movements. Megan shuffled the cards in a slow, deliberate circle, following the usual rituals, and instructed, Turn over the one closest to you; it shows the past.
My hands trembled as I drew a card. It was a blank sheet of thick creamcoloured paper, utterly empty. Megan frowned.
Strange, she murmured. A blank page means you had no past. How can that be?
What what kind of deck is this? I tried to sound steady, though a shiver ran down my spine. Normal cards never look like that.
Lets try again, she suggested. Pick any card you like.
All I wanted was to finish the ride, get off at the next stop, and never hear that voice again. Yet, obedient to the strangers will, I drew another card and turned it over. It was the same spotless page. My suspicion grew; I was sure she was pulling a fast one, and I found the courage to ask, Can we stop? It seems all your cards are blank. Im not enjoying this.
Megans expression tightened. I assure you, James, the cards are ordinary. The designs are etched so finely I feel them with my fingertips, but right now the sheets are perfectly smooth. Im as shocked as you are. Try again, this time for the present, and be bolder.
I inhaled sharply, took two cards at once, and ran my fingers over them. As expected, there were no bumps or markingsjust pristine, glossy paper. I tossed them back at her.
Enough with this farce, I said, trying not to sound angry. Why did you start this?
She seemed taken aback, her face paling. Honestly, I thought it would be a little entertainment for the journey. Lets have one more go, for futures sake
Fine, I snapped, irritated, and drew the next card. When I flipped it, I realized I couldnt show hershe couldnt see it anywayand I almost shouted, The future is as white as this card. What am I supposed to do with that?
Her complexion turned an alarming shade of pallor, speckles of nervousness appearing across her skin. Does that mean Ill die soon?
I stared at her, but said nothing, simply gathered my coat and bag, glanced out the window, and muttered, Who knows? Everybody dies sometime. Im getting off at the next station; Ive got urgent business. I shoved past her and stepped into the carriage door without looking back, thinking, Bloody nuisance, ruined my mood.
Furious, I made my way to the trains vestibule and pulled a cigarette from a pack. The blindfolded woman had truly shaken me. I turned to a thoughtful man smoking nearby and asked, Got a light?
He nodded, Sure thing, and handed me a lighter. He stared at me for a moment, then slumped, almost as if his spine had given way, and the floor beneath him seemed dirty. I crouched to pick up the lighter myself. I took a deep drag, exhaled a thin ring of smoke, and felt a little lighter.
The doors hissed open, and before stepping onto the platform, I smoothed my coat, gave a quick glance at the trembling man, and said, Poor fellow, seeing a skull would be a fright indeed. Sorry if I startled you. Your time isnt up yet, and Im just on holiday, lost control for a moment. Even a seer can be blind to her own fate. You cant run from people, can you?
Muttering under my breath, I walked onto the platform of the small, unfamiliar town. Enjoy your holiday, James, I thought, as the train pulled away.
