surrounded them.
Paterson
quickly caught up with Eve. She turned as he touched her on the shoulder.
“Weeds? You
said the flowers were weeds?”
She blinked
at him but her expression remained unchanged, as if she was dealing with a slow
child.
“Yes. There
were none when the house was built. The garden looked lovely when it shone in
the sun. But now …” She looked around at the generous growth sadly. “It’s been
choked. I thought you knew. You said you could help.”
None of the
books or architectural monographs Paterson had read had even mentioned the
garden. Architects! Now if the volumes had been written by horticulturalists …
but then again …
“I didn’t
know. I-it’s incredible,” stumbled Paterson.
Eve smiled
slightly at him before turning away to continue her journey.
Once they’d
reached the unusual gazebo at the end of the path, they sat each side of a
small wooden table covered with a dark cloth and some wind-gathered detritus.
Eve reached
inside her dress pocket and removed a set of large cards. She spread the cards
on the small table before her, ignoring the leaves that covered part of it.
“What’s this?”
asked Paterson.
“They’re
cards.”
Paterson
sighed with soft impatience. “I can see that. If you want me to play, you’ll
have to teach me the rules. I’m not big on card games.”
Eve gave a
short laugh. “It’s not a game. Well, a game of sorts, I suppose.”
Still
puzzled, Paterson directed his best quizzical look in her direction.
Eventually
she responded. “They’re for cartomancy … looking into the future, if you like.”
“Witchcraft,
now?!” he snorted.
Eve shook her
head, looking slightly hurt. “No, no. I’m no witch, just a sensitive, that’s
all.” She smiled at him, then flipped the first card. “‘The Huntress’.”
She turned
the second. “Ah, ‘The Lost Island’,” she said with mild concern.
Paterson
looked from the cards’ hand-painted designs to Eve’s intent small face. “Well?”
“It means
that you may not get all you hope for. But the later cards could put a
different complexion on things. Let’s see.” She plucked absent-mindedly at the
front of her dress as she spoke, inadvertently releasing one of the buttons.
She laid the
next two down without comment – ‘The Tattered Banners’ and ‘The Burdened Priest’
– and, even though he didn’t believe in anything that the cards said, Paterson
became vaguely concerned.
A further two
cards – ‘The Saltimbanque’ and ‘The Morning Star’ – joined the pattern laid
out before them. “Hmmmm,” said Eve. “I think I see.”
“And this
card,” she flourished it before setting it down, “shows your true desire.” She
set it in its place and frowned. Paterson read the words ‘The Mare’s Delight’
at the top of the card and noted the elaborate design of two horses copulating
beneath a lunar eclipse.
He smirked at
her, but her eyes were intent on the pattern that the cards made on the table. ‘The
Seneschal’, ‘The Crowded Cell’, ‘The Hungry Man’, ‘The Smiling Sisters’, ‘The
Burning Tree’ and ‘The Almoner’ all came out of the pack and went on to the
table.
Eve looked up
suddenly and met Paterson’s eyes. She began to laugh.
“What? What
is it?” he asked. The girl simply kept on laughing. Paterson let this continue
for a few more moments but then began to feel as if he were being made a fool
of. He leaned forward and angrily brushed the cards from the table. “Damn the
cards … and damn you!” he hissed.
Eve stopped
laughing and looked at the cards scattered on the floor with slight disdain.
When she lifted her eyes to Paterson, her gaze was cold.
Feeling
suddenly ashamed, Paterson picked the cards up carefully and shuffled them into
a neat pack once more.
“I’m sorry,”
he said. “ I just …”
She lifted
her head, her deep green eyes staring straight into his. “Can I be honest with
you, Mr Paterson? Shall