air. The sunlight was behind her and catching the tips of her wings as she flew. The bird was so light and buoyant she seemed to reflect Rita’s sense of optimism. She remembered how she used to watch them with George. ‘One day I’ll fly like a swallow,’ he had said and she had believed him. She recalled that the swallows returned to Elvestree every year to build their nest, and hatch their young in the top corner of the drawing room. Mrs Megalith enjoyed them so much she didn’t mind the mess they made and curiously they seemed to have grown accustomed to the cats and weren’t bothered by them. Rita raised her eyes to see that the scary black cat had slipped off the roof and disappeared. There was something eerie about Megagran’s cats.
Mrs Megalith emerged from the dark drawing room just as the swallow flew in. She was shuffling the twenty-one cards of the Major Arcana. She only required her granddaughter to pick three for she had a specific question in mind. She sat down and settled her glasses on the bridge of her nose. Then she handed the pack to Rita, looking at her over her lenses.
‘Shuffle these for a while. Did you see the swallow?’ Rita nodded. ‘What a delight they are and what a privilege it is to offer them a home, year in year out.’ Rita shuffled the cards. ‘When you’re ready, think of George and pick three, giving them to me as you choose them.’
Rita did as she was told. She visualized George’s face and remembered how cross he had been that their afternoon had been interrupted. Then she chose three cards from different parts of the pack. Mrs Megalith took them in her jewelled fingers, placed them on the table and turned them over one by one. The cards were brightly painted with elaborate pictures and Megagran always referred to them as ‘tools for spirit communication’. ‘They’re not magic in themselves,’ she would explain to a new sitter. ‘Spirit will lead you to pick the cards that will answer your question and guide you. My job is simply to interpret them and for that I follow my intuition for it is never wrong.’
She stared at the cards for a long while then tapped the first one with her finger. ‘Temperance. My dear, this card is about you, at this present time. It is a card of emotional indecision. You see a woman in a virginal white dress, with a red cloak that represents the base vibration and a blue one – that represents a higher vibration – pouring water from one golden goblet into another. This represents a battle between sexuality and virtue. I don’t need the cards to tell me that, it’s written all over your face. My dear Rita, let it go and enjoy him. There is nothing wrong with making love as long as it is with love.’
Before Rita had time to blush her grandmother tapped the next card. ‘The Fool,’ she stated, then sniffed knowingly. The card depicted a man at a crossroads, looking backwards with a grave face. ‘This is the card that reveals the circumstances that surround you.’ Rita looked at it. She wondered whether the white cliffs and the sea were representative of Devon, but Mrs Megalith continued stridently. ‘You will have a choice to make. It will not be an easy one. In fact, it will be life changing. You will not want to let go of the past for the past is your security. But trust your instincts and follow them for they never lie. I sense that the sea is literal; one path leads to it and to the horizon beyond. That is the road that I feel you should take. You see the dog who accompanies this man?’ Rita nodded and thought of Mildred. ‘You won’t be alone. George will look after you.’ Rita didn’t think George would appreciate being the dog in the picture. He was a small white dog with short hair, not a big shaggy one like Mildred.
‘Ah, The Moon.’ Mrs Megalith picked up the third card and nodded knowingly. ‘A man gazing to the moon with his back to a woman who sits on the step looking up at him sadly. My dear, this is the
Mrs Megalith emerged from the dark drawing room just as the swallow flew in. She was shuffling the twenty-one cards of the Major Arcana. She only required her granddaughter to pick three for she had a specific question in mind. She sat down and settled her glasses on the bridge of her nose. Then she handed the pack to Rita, looking at her over her lenses.
‘Shuffle these for a while. Did you see the swallow?’ Rita nodded. ‘What a delight they are and what a privilege it is to offer them a home, year in year out.’ Rita shuffled the cards. ‘When you’re ready, think of George and pick three, giving them to me as you choose them.’
Rita did as she was told. She visualized George’s face and remembered how cross he had been that their afternoon had been interrupted. Then she chose three cards from different parts of the pack. Mrs Megalith took them in her jewelled fingers, placed them on the table and turned them over one by one. The cards were brightly painted with elaborate pictures and Megagran always referred to them as ‘tools for spirit communication’. ‘They’re not magic in themselves,’ she would explain to a new sitter. ‘Spirit will lead you to pick the cards that will answer your question and guide you. My job is simply to interpret them and for that I follow my intuition for it is never wrong.’
She stared at the cards for a long while then tapped the first one with her finger. ‘Temperance. My dear, this card is about you, at this present time. It is a card of emotional indecision. You see a woman in a virginal white dress, with a red cloak that represents the base vibration and a blue one – that represents a higher vibration – pouring water from one golden goblet into another. This represents a battle between sexuality and virtue. I don’t need the cards to tell me that, it’s written all over your face. My dear Rita, let it go and enjoy him. There is nothing wrong with making love as long as it is with love.’
Before Rita had time to blush her grandmother tapped the next card. ‘The Fool,’ she stated, then sniffed knowingly. The card depicted a man at a crossroads, looking backwards with a grave face. ‘This is the card that reveals the circumstances that surround you.’ Rita looked at it. She wondered whether the white cliffs and the sea were representative of Devon, but Mrs Megalith continued stridently. ‘You will have a choice to make. It will not be an easy one. In fact, it will be life changing. You will not want to let go of the past for the past is your security. But trust your instincts and follow them for they never lie. I sense that the sea is literal; one path leads to it and to the horizon beyond. That is the road that I feel you should take. You see the dog who accompanies this man?’ Rita nodded and thought of Mildred. ‘You won’t be alone. George will look after you.’ Rita didn’t think George would appreciate being the dog in the picture. He was a small white dog with short hair, not a big shaggy one like Mildred.
‘Ah, The Moon.’ Mrs Megalith picked up the third card and nodded knowingly. ‘A man gazing to the moon with his back to a woman who sits on the step looking up at him sadly. My dear, this is the
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