“How did you know that?”
“Hush now. You came here to listen, and all you’ve done is talk.” She turned Alice’s palms upward. “You have two lives in you, Alice. The one you know, and another one. One that has been waiting for you for a very long time. They have nothing in common, apart from you. The man I spoke about yesterday is to be found somewhere along the path to that other, unknown life, but he will be forever lost to you unless you go on a long journey. A journey that will lead you to discover that nothing you believe in is real.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Alice protested.
“Perhaps. After all, I’m just a fortune-teller at a carnival.”
“A journey where?”
“To the place you come from, my darling. To your past.”
“Well, I just came from London, and I intend to return there this evening.”
“I’m talking about the land you were born in.”
“Which is also London. I was born in Holborn.”
“No, you weren’t,” said the fortune-teller with a smile.
“I know where my mother gave birth to me, for heaven’s sake!”
“You weren’t born in England. You come from farther afield. There’s no need to be a fortune-teller to see that. Your features betray your true origins.”
“I’m sorry to tell you, but my ancestors are from the Midlands and the North. Birmingham on my mother’s side, and Yorkshire on my father’s side.”
“No. Both of them were from farther east,” whispered the woman. “They came from an empire that no longer exists, from a very old country, a land thousands of miles from here. The blood that flows in your veins has its source between the Black Sea and the Caspian. Look in the mirror and see for yourself!”
“You’re just making things up.”
“I don’t mean to repeat myself, Alice, but if you’re going to undertake this journey, there are certain things you are going to have to accept. From the way you’re reacting, I’d say you’re still not ready. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
“Oh, no you don’t—I’m not going to spend another sleepless night. I’m not going back to London until I’m sure that you’re a charlatan.” The fortune-teller’s face dropped. “Pardon me, I’m sorry. That’s not really what I think. I don’t mean to be disrespectful.”
The old woman let go of Alice’s hands and rose to her feet. “Go home and forget everything I’ve told you. I’m the one who should be sorry. The truth is that I’m nothing but a rambling old hag who amuses herself at the price of others’ dignity. I tried so hard to predict your future that I got caught up in my own tricks. Go on and live your life free from worry. You’re a beautiful woman. There’s no need to be a fortune-teller to see that you’ll meet a man to your liking no matter what happens.”
She went to open the door, but Alice stayed put.
“You were more believable before. Let’s play the game. After all, nothing is preventing us from thinking of this as a game. Suppose I were to take your predictions seriously. Where would I begin?”
“You’re starting to wear me out, my darling. Like I said, I never predicted anything. I just say whatever happens to come into my head, so there’s no use in you wasting your time. Don’t you have anything better to do on Christmas Eve?”
“You don’t have to debase yourself. I promise I’ll leave when you answer my question.”
The fortune-teller looked at a timeworn little Byzantine icon hanging above the door of her small caravan and fondly touched the saint’s face before turning back to Alice.
“You’ll meet somebody to guide you to the next step in Istanbul. But remember, if you follow the trail to its end, the world you live in today won’t remain. Now leave me. I’m exhausted.”
She opened the door and the cold winter air swept into the room. Alice pulled her coat around her and reached for her purse, but again the fortune-teller refused her money. Alice wound her scarf around her neck and said goodbye.
The pier was deserted and the lights that hung along the length of the dock swung in the wind, emitting a strange clinking melody. The Austin’s single headlight blinked at her from the street.
Daldry had taken refuge from the cold inside his car.
“I was starting to worry. I thought perhaps I should come and get you, but it’s so blasted cold out there.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to drive in the dark,” said Alice.
“You were in there for a while,” he said as he started the engine.
“It didn’t feel like very long.”
“Well, it did to me. I hope it was worth it.”
Alice picked up the road map and unfolded it across her lap. Daldry put his foot on the accelerator and the back end of the car skidded a bit on the ice.
“Funny way to spend Christmas Eve,” said Alice in guise of an apology.
“A lot better than sitting bored to death next to the radio at home. If the roads aren’t too icy, we’ll have time for dinner when we get back. Midnight’s still a long way off.”
“So is London, I’m afraid,” said Alice with a sigh.
“How much longer are you going to keep me in suspense? Did she tell you the rest of the story? Are you going to be able to sleep through the night?”
“Not exactly.”
Daldry opened his window a crack. “Mind if I smoke?”
“Not if you offer me one.”
“You smoke?”
“No,” admitted Alice. “But tonight, why not?”
Daldry took a pack of Embassies from his coat pocket.
“Hold the wheel,” he told Alice. “You know how to drive?”
“No more than I know how to smoke,” she said, leaning over to grip the wheel while Daldry slipped two cigarettes between his lips.
“Well, try to keep us on the road.”
He lit both cigarettes and corrected Alice’s steering with his free hand before passing her one.
“So we came all this way for nothing. You seem worse than you did this morning.”
“I think I put too much faith in that woman’s predictions. I’m just tired, I suppose. She was even crazier than I remembered.”
The first drag on her cigarette sent Alice into a coughing fit. Daldry plucked it from her fingers and threw it out of the window.
“Go on then, sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.”
Alice leaned back and felt her eyelids grow heavy. Daldry watched her for a moment before turning his concentration back to the road.
Daldry pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. He wondered how he ought to wake Alice. If he said something, she would jump, but putting his hand on her shoulder would be unseemly. He could clear his throat, but would she even notice? She had slept all the way home, in spite of the roaring motor and squeaky suspension.
“We’re going to freeze to death if we spend the night out here,” Alice whispered, opening an eye.
When they were upstairs, Daldry and Alice stood a moment in the hallway, not knowing what to say next. Alice took the lead.
“It’s only eleven o’clock.”
“You’re right,” said Daldry. “Just a little past eleven.”
“What did you get at the market this morning?” asked Alice.
“Oh, some ham, some piccalilli, red beans, and a piece of Cheshire.”
“Well, I have an egg, bacon, fruitcake, and honey.”
“A regular feast. I’m dying of hunger,” said Daldry.
“Let me invite you to dinner. You took me out to breakfast and I must have cost you a fortune in petrol. I haven’t even thanked you.”
“With pleasure. I’m free every night this week.”
“I meant tonight, Ethan.”
“I’m also free tonight.”
“I had my doubts.”
“It would be silly for each of us to celebrate Christmas alone on either side of a wall.”
“I’ll make us an omelet.”
“Wonderful. I’ll just hang up my coat and be right over.”
Alice lit the gas ring and melted some butter in a frying pan. While she waited for it to heat up, she pushed her trunk into the middle of the room, covered it with a tablecloth, and set two places, putting two large cushions on the floor on either side.