The Tarot Reader Bk2

By B C Austen

Adam proposes, but Azima cannot find the words to accept. After accidentally injuring himself he ends up in the local hospital, where he encounters Jayne, his troublesome ex-wife, and she wants him back. Confused and tormented, he goes into hiding. Alone now, Azima blames herself for the situation she finds herself in and she wants answers. Desperate to get Adam back she sets out to expose Jayne's lies, but will the cards reveal his whereabouts? Azima is certain that the Cracknell farm and the tragic deaths that have recurred there for generations are behind everything, and the only solution is to remove the evil that lurks there.

• Language: English
• Publisher: B C Austen
• Release date: Dec 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005523190

B C Austen

Barbara is a retired medical receptionist and a learner blogger. She is a native of Western Australian country towns, but has now joined the city rat race. Among her hobbies she has a small but fascinating collection of weird and wonderful teapots.She has been learning creative writing for a few years now and her first novel has just hit the ebook market.Her family is her life, but movies and coffee with friends are all important.

Book preview

Chapter One

The Preamble

Unbeknownst to Azima and Adam, the ghostly pair, Elizabeth and Rebecca, were sitting on the old iron bed, chattering and watching them embracing.

‘Aunty Betty, look at them,’ said Rebecca. ‘I hope Azima becomes Adam’s wife and that she’ll come here to live with us.’

‘Won’t that be wonderful? The house can rest again, because Glenda has gone away and taken the demons with her.’

A strong wind had picked up outside and it howled past the window, before the accompanying noises and the rustling wind eased off. The branches in the trees around the house still danced and blinked, as though someone was caught in them and was shaking them.

‘What’s causing those leaves to shake, Aunty?’ asked Rebecca.

‘It could be just mother nature, but I’m more inclined to think it’s an omen. I’m worried that it’s Glenda’s spirit.’

‘Why do you think that?’

‘Because she’s strong minded, and she didn’t get what she wanted. She still has revenge in her heart and she has to it get out of her system. I believe we were too hasty in thinking she’s gone away.’

‘Don’t talk that way, Aunty. What can we do?’

‘We have to fight her, Rebecca. We have to keep her out of the house, or Adam and Azima will be in danger.’

‘And just when we thought everything would be ok. That’s not fair.’

‘I know, my sweet child. Don’t you fret. Aunty Betty will fix things.’

Betty gave the girl a hug, but the knitted brows on her face showed her worry.

Saturday 14 May, 1966

Azima Radcliffe’s life in the small town of Brookeville had changed for the better.

First, and most importantly, she had been seeing Adam Cracknell for some eighteen months now, and they had settled into a comfortable relationship. Her hobby of doing tarot readings had become so successful that it had turned into a business enterprise, and she had a regular following amongst the locals and the surrounding shires. Perhaps the only fly in the ointment was wondering when Adam would propose. She was confident he would, but wished he would hurry. Her sister Monica and her best friend and neighbour, Katya Stojak, a Hungarian immigrant, were also keen to know.

Life had returned to normal since the tragedy of Glenda’s death. Glenda was Adam’s cousin, and had been committed to the Wilmington Mental Institute after she had admitted murdering her own mother. However, because of the Institution’s security being rather lax, she had absconded, and was regularly visiting Adam and harassing him. When he became involved with Azima, Glenda stepped up her campaign of torment, and with her mind becoming unhinged, it led to her jumping from the third-floor window of the farmhouse to her death.

Prior to meeting Adam, and Glenda’s demise, ghostly entities had visited Azima, and this led to her investigating a fifty-year-old child’s murder, and the suicide of her nanny. This tragedy had occurred at the Cracknell farm, and when the true story came out, it was found to be connected to Glenda becoming irrational and doing such diabolical crimes. Glenda had become caught up in a curse, that was put on the family by a disgruntled irish gypsy maid when the farm was first settled.

It was a terrible family tragedy, but it put an end to Azima’s visitations and her normal life resumed. Her story continues.

Azima helped Mrs Andrews alight from the caravan and walked her to her car.

‘Thank you for that reading, Azima. I still chastise myself for the way I spoke to you at my last reading. I had a lot on my plate that day, and I was in a rush…, but that doesn’t excuse me. I wasn’t concentrating on what you foretold from the cards and I took it out of context. Everything you said came true.’

Azima smiled in acknowledgement, opened the car door for her, and waited till she’d settled in behind the wheel.

‘I’ve forgotten it already, Mrs Andrews. We all have days where nothing goes according to plan.’

‘Bye for now, Azima,’ she said, starting the motor and putting it into reverse gear. ‘I’ll be back in a few months. My son is having a struggle at the moment, so if he can’t sort himself out, I’ll come to you for some answers.’

‘You’re most welcome to come back.’

Azima gave a wave as Mrs Andrews manoeuvred out of the driveway, then she went back inside the caravan to tidy up. With two more customers booked in for the morning, she wanted it to be ready for them, plus she was expecting Adam over for dinner and still had some shopping and preparation to do; but there was no need to worry about that. He liked to help her with the cooking.

While she fluffed the cushions and straightened the tablecloth, a smile came to her face as she thought about him. He was so charming and attentive, and she could never get enough of his company. He loved her back. There was no doubt about that. Adam was that kind of guy. Loyal and decent. And so handsome, and….

Azima cut her musings short. She had to stay focused on her readings. If she let her mind wander too much, she knew it would take her a while to get back into the zone. She was rather busy with tarot readings these days, thanks to two clever bits of marketing eighteen months ago. The first was that she had booked a stand at the Brookeville Show Day, and the second, was agreeing to be interviewed by Brian Porter-Smith on his radio programme, promoting her stand. The popularity she’d gained from the visitors to her stand that day had been immense, and because her predictions had been well received, she had experienced a steady increase to her customer base. And now that she had Mrs Andrews’ blessing, life could not be sweeter.

Her next client was Mrs Major, and it was going to be a difficult reading. Since she was sacked from her Post Office job four months ago, she was a troubled woman. She was at an age where she wouldn’t be able to get another similar job in the town, not to mention that it had sullied her reputation.

What happened, was that she had been caught in a passionate embrace, in the back room of the Post Office, with the accountant from the bank, who was a married man. Word spread like wildfire, and when his wife heard about it, she kicked up a huge fuss. The resulting outrage in the community was so vocal that Mrs Major was fired. It surprised Azima that she hadn’t left town. The banker suffered no backlash, which left the town divided how unfair it was. For Mrs Major, aware that she was now a scarlet woman, it had left a sour taste in her mouth.

When Azima heard the knock on the caravan door, she opened it and let her in. The poor thing looked so miserable, still puffy around her eyes from crying.

‘Come in, Mrs Major, take a seat.’ Azima placed a box of tissues nearby.

‘Thanks, Azima. Please call me Mary, seeing as I’m no longer anyone of any importance anymore. I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other now.’

‘Very well, Mary. Now, what would you like to ask me today?’

‘Do you have enough time to give me one of those big spreads? I want to know about my future. I want to know if there is any point in going on with my life. I did nothing wrong, you know. That rotten, shitty mongrel from the bank took advantage of my loneliness, and he’s still parading about, scot-free, like it’s all my fault. He’s not a little boy that was seduced by a slut, as I’ve been called to my face. He’s a grown man who ought to show some remorse.’

Azima took her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze. ‘I feel for you that this has happened. Loneliness can make us grab the first opportunity for love or affection that comes along. It can be wonderful and heady at the start, and then, when you realise it’s a mess, you can’t get out of it. At least, not without any repercussions. But let’s deal the cards and see what they have to say.’

‘Thanks you, Azima. I’m so worn out. I just don’t know what else to do.’

‘That’s fine. Let’s see if we can’t give you something good to think about. Before we start, can I give you a word of caution, that I have no control over what the cards say. They may mean nothing to you for now, or they could refer to someone close to you, and things might not happen straight away.’

‘That’s fine, Azima. I understand. Start the deal.’

With a deep sigh, Azima shuffled and fanned the cards out on the table.

‘As you select the cards, think about what you want resolved.’

It was a long session that went well over time. When it was over, Mary leaned back in the chair, her hands covering her face. Azima saw she was confused by what the cards had shown.

‘Has anything that came up helped you?’ she asked.

Mary shook her head. ‘Not much,’ she whispered. A few seconds later she grabbed a tissue and dabbed it at her eyes and nose. There was no hiding her emotions behind that tear-stained face.

‘No, the reading hasn’t helped. Seeing so many swords on the cards hasn’t given me much comfort.’ She grabbed another tissue and blew her nose. ‘I’d best go home, have a wine or two and have a think about it. I almost feel like jumping in front of the next cattle train. There is nothing to live for.’

Mary got up, and so did Azima. She took hold of Mary’s arms and gently caressed them.

‘Listen, Mary. There was nothing in that reading that implied there was no hope. Please don’t do anything rash. What it’s saying is to take the time to repair your negative thoughts about what happened, and things will look different in time. You have a family that loves you. Losing your job is a setback, but down the track you’ll find yourself back on your feet. Staying here in town is a constant reminder of what happened, people judging and staring. You shouldn’t torture yourself like that. Can I suggest you take a holiday and distract yourself? Perhaps take a cruise?’

Mary nodded, gathered up her bag and hat, and headed towards the door. ‘They say that these things happen for a reason, but him upstairs must hate me.’

Azima went ahead of her and pulled the plastic strips in the doorway aside.

‘Mary, promise me you won’t do anything drastic.’

‘No, I won’t. I don’t know why I said it. I’m going to get myself an entire cake, and a bottle or two of wine, and self medicate.’

‘That’s the way. Let’s have a hug.’

Azima’s next client didn’t turn up, or maybe they just got sick of waiting, which was ok, because despite Mary’s consultation going way over time, she couldn’t just end it and send her away in such a state.

Azima locked the caravan and headed towards the house. Nissa was waiting for her on the mat. She stood up and stretched as Azima came near.

‘Hey, precious puss. What’s up? You been out catching those naughty mice?’

Nissa sat on her behind and licked her paws.

‘Cleaning the mouse blood off, are you?’

She held the door open and waited for Nissa to follow her in. The phone rang just as she placed her cards and shawl on the kitchen table.

‘Hello.’

‘It’s me, Azima. Have you finished doing the cards?’ asked Monica. ‘This is the second time I’ve rung.’

‘Yes, I’ve finished. What’s going on?’

‘Not much. Do you mind if I come over? I’ll bring something to eat.’

‘Yes, please do. I’ve had a tough morning.’

‘Ok, see you in about half an hour.’

Monica arrived with her usual bouncy greeting, but Azima noticed there was a little more bounce than usual.

‘Hello, sis,’ said Azima. ‘What’s got you all worked up today?’

‘Worked up? What do you mean?’

‘Anyone can see you have a bit more spring in your step today.’

Monica placed the lunch she had bought on the table and turned to Azima with her hands on her hips. ‘Can you do me a reading, please? Something strange has happened.’

‘Like what? Is Brad two-timing you like Kyle did?’

‘No, why would you think that? Have you heard something?’

‘No, I haven’t. I just said it to provoke you; but this romance you’ve got going with him, ever since you took on that barmaid job at the pub, seems a bit too convenient.’

‘No, it’s nothing like that. Brad is a nice guy, and he looks after me, but last night I got a phone call from Brian.’

‘Brian? From the radio station?’

‘Yes, that Brian. He’s asked me out, and I stupidly said yes, but now I wish I hadn’t. Can the cards tell me if I should go or not?’

‘They might, but what does your conscience say?’

‘My conscience is screaming to steer clear of him. That’s what it says; but I fancy living a bit dangerously.’

‘And you want me to be the voice of reason?’

‘Yes, could you?’

‘Ok, but let’s eat first. What did you bring?’

‘I bought us a pastie each, from the bakery. Did you know that a family of dutch migrants has taken it over? A mum, a dad and two boys. They make such divine bread, and the cakes will blow your socks off.’

‘No, I didn’t know that, but since you’ve told me, I might pop in there later today. I have to go to the shops to get something decent for Adam, who’s coming here for dinner.’

‘He’s such a dish, isn’t he? How come I never knew he existed before you found him?’

‘He didn’t mix in your circle, that’s why.’

‘You two are quite a thing, aren’t you? Is he going to propose? You’re getting on a bit, you know.’

‘That’s none of your business, Monica, but don’t worry, you’ll know as soon as I know. These pasties aren’t very warm. I’ll pop them in the oven while I do you a reading.’

‘Ok, and thanks.’

‘You know the drill with the cards, sis, so here we go.’

Azima shuffled and then she fanned the cards on the table. Monica pulled a card and turned it over. It was the Ace of Cups.

‘That looks interesting,’ said Monica. ‘You told me once that Aces mean new beginnings. I think I already know what you’re going to say.’

‘You have no idea what I’m going to say, Monica. Do you want a reading or not?’

‘Yes I do. Don’t get all big sister and bossy.’

‘What’s your question then?’

‘My question is obvious. What will happen if I go on this date with Brian?’

‘Ok.’

Azima concentrated on the card for a few minutes. Several thoughts came to her mind, but the strongest was the one she gave her sister.

‘Aces can mean new beginnings, but I’m not sure which one this will refer to, because your job at the pub is new, your relationship with Brad is new, and now this date with Brian is new, so you’ll have some soul searching to do. I’ll put some questions to you, and you don’t need to answer them, just use them to figure things out. Are you feeling unfulfilled in either your job or with Brad?’

‘Brad works too hard, and he isn’t all that romantic.’

‘If your job isn’t what you thought you wanted, speak to him, or, are you the one who isn’t contributing as well as you could. Are you thinking Brian will make up what is lacking in your life?’

Monica stared into space, pulled a face and shrugged.

Azima continued. ‘Cups are a water element, so perhaps you need to empty the old water from the cup and see if the new water tastes better.’

‘So you reckon I should go with Brian?’

‘No, I didn’t say that. You need to figure out what the water entails.’

Azima scooped up the cards and wrapped the cloth around them.

‘You and your damn riddles, Azima. My practical brain can’t unravel all those questions.’

‘You’ll work it out. Better get those pasties out of the oven before they burn. Do you want tea or a glass of cordial?’

Monica didn’t answer. She pulled to pasties out, and brought them to the table. Then she sat in her usual chair. Her mouth was looking a little crooked as she stared at the food.

‘I better cancel Brian.’

‘A wise choice, Monica. Consider his proposal as nothing more than flattery. All flashy and brief. He doesn’t have a good track record with women, does he?’

Monica pursed her lips and muttered something in a low tone.

‘What did you say?’

‘Nothing, just a little swear word.’ She ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Brad might work hard and do long hours, but he’s solid,’ she said. ‘I’m not getting any younger, either. I’d better not look a gift horse in the mouth.’

‘Yes, he’s one of the good guys. Do you want a lemonade?’

Chapter Two

Adam gave the front door a loud knock, then entered after Azima called him to come in.

‘Hi Adam,’ she said.

‘Hi, to you too,’ he said, removing his jacket.

She took off her polka-dotted apron and went to him, knowing she would get a nice long kiss and a hug, and it always left her wanting more.

Their relationship was a slow burn, but she sensed things were picking up now. Glenda’s death had affected Adam for a good six months, and neither of them wanted to rush things along. His first marriage to Jayne had left some scars, so Azima wanted to be sure they were both on the same page. The last few months had left her confident that he was more serious about her than ever.

So far, there had been no activity in the bedroom, although she suspected, or rather hoped, it soon would. Many times, Azima had to restrain herself from letting her hormones run amok, because in her eyes, it wasn’t ladylike. The last thing she wanted was for him to get the idea she was easy. She carried a lot of guilt about wanting to have sex with Adam. When her mind ventured there, she sometimes felt that Philip was watching her, even though he was gone, but after performing a smoke smudge throughout the house, she stopped worrying about that.

She no longer went to the cemetery to visit Philip’s grave. The last time she went was to tell him she and Adam had committed to each other, and she was starting a new life. There was no use coming to his grave anymore, flaunting herself, when he was buried in the ground. That would torment him. Her concession was that she would only come once a year, on the anniversary of his death. He must have accepted it because she no longer dreamt about him.

‘How is my beautiful love today?’ asked Adam.

‘She’s fine. Can’t get rid of my smile after that kiss. You get better and better at it, Adam.’

He laughed. ‘I aim to please.’ He leaned closer and gave her another.

‘What are we having for dinner?’

‘I’ve got a farmhouse casserole in the oven and I only need to cut up the green beans and cook the potatoes. Why don’t you sit down? You must be tired after working all day.’

‘I am a bit. I see you don’t have a glass of wine handy as yet, so first I’ll open this bottle I brought along. It’s a sauterne, which I think you like. This label is supposed to be superb, according to Jerry at tennis.’

‘Hmm, so Jerry at tennis knows his wines?’

‘He reckons he does. I know he drinks quite a bit of wine.’

Azima laughed. ‘You aren’t much of a connoisseur, are you?’

‘No, I’m afraid not. I need a well-known boozer to show me the way.’

‘How are things at the farm? And your mum?’

‘It’s going ok at the farm. Just waiting for the rains to start and then it’ll all crank up again. Mum is doing ok.’

‘Has your prize ram recovered now? That dose of poison that Glenda gave him messed up his gut, didn’t it?’

‘Do we need to mention Glenda tonight?’

‘Why not? Hasn’t enough time passed by now that we can deal with what she did?’

‘I suppose it has, but her legacy still bothers me. I can’t quite let it go after all the trouble she caused. The scandal she created after murdering her parents crushed mother, and she almost drove me off the farm. I was terrified she would kill mother.’

Azima could see there were still some traces left of how traumatised he was by the whole affair. She went over and sat on his lap, putting her arm around his shoulders.

‘It’s shocking that you and I might never have got together if she’d achieved what she set out to do,’ he said.

Azima stood up again and went to the sink to chop the potatoes. Adam was beside her in seconds and took the knife off her.

‘Here, I’ll do that. You take a seat. You look more tired than me. What sort of day have you had?’

‘Quite a busy one, actually. First, I had an extremely emotional client in for tarot reading this morning, then Monica came for one, and she seemed annoyed when she left, because she wasn’t satisfied with hers.’

‘Is it wise to give your sister a reading? I mean, can you be impartial?’

‘Probably not, but she insists its just for fun, but I know she takes it to heart. And today she needed to.’

‘Why?’

‘She’s not long been working as a barmaid at Brad’s pub, and is going out with him, but the radio guy, Brian, has called and asked her out. She was going to go with him and ruin everything. I like Brad and I didn’t want her to do that to him.’

‘Yes, I remember Brad from that night I got drunk.’

‘You were so funny when you were drunk. Can you remember spewing and peeing when I drove you home?’

‘Yes, I sure do. What an embarrassing way to impress someone you fancy. Why are you still in my life?’

‘Because for some stupid reason I love you, drunk or sober.’

Adam laughed, as he did whenever the subject came up. He chopped up the potatoes and put them in a pot to cook. He sat down then and picked up his glass, chinked it with Azima and had a sip.

‘Cheers. Has she decided on being sensible? Is she’s still going to see Brian?’

‘She’s decided to cancel him.’

‘Good on her….’