Page 3 of Date with Destiny

I picture the fortune teller woman now; the way she flungherself at me through the crowds, her large hair framed by the Ferris wheel. ‘YOU!’ she shouted at me, before launching into a confusing monologue about my future. The whole thing frightened the life out of teen-me and I wanted to pack it away in some mind-box forever.

But I met Myfanwy two years later, and she never let me.

She really believes in all that stuff. She’s one of the smartest people I know: a science teacher withtwodegrees! Fromtwouniversities! But in her spare time she visits psychics, faith healers, regression therapists, obsesses over her horoscopes, follows the movement of the moon, and attends Reiki classes.

‘What were the six predictions again?’ Toni comes closer, excited now. She hasn’t heard me talk about this in years.

Myfanwy opens her mouth to answer and I cut her off. ‘It doesn’t matter because it’s just a load of nonsense,’ I insist, trying to add a note of finality to the conversation.

Myfe shrugs. ‘Well, there’s really only one that matters. There are five of medium importance and one you can’t just ignore, Ginny.’

I picture myself at sixteen, standing in front of the fortune teller. Huge hair aside, she looked like anyone; not like the fortune tellers you picture in old movies. There was no head scarf, no big hoop earrings, no eye patch, no hook hand…

Actually, I might be getting mixed up with pirates.

Either way, I remember watching her face as she finished the reading; how she held my eyes as she gave me the last of the six predictions.

Myfanwy echoes her words now, holding my gaze in the same exact way.

‘In sixteen years, you will meet your soulmate.’

The six of us are silent for a moment before Myfanwy glances up, her face falling. ‘Uh-oh, incoming,’ she hisses as a staggering drunk with a full-sized sick stain down the front of her air-hostess costume flops towards us from the dance floor.

‘Where are your earrings, Ginny?’ Celeste demands, zeroing in on me. She’s too close to my face, her breath hot with the smell of vomit.

‘Er…’ I instinctively grab for my naked lobes as she moves in even closer.

‘Where are they?’ She’s angry now and I frantically try to recall the point of the day when I removed the oversized aeroplane-themed jewellery.

‘Oh,’ the memory returns, ‘God, sorry! The bloke made me take them off for the zipwire. I couldn’t get my helmet on over them. They’re in my coat pocket.’

Celeste’s fury dissipates instantly and she plants a wet kiss on my cheek before wrapping me up in a stinky cuddle. I hold my breath. ‘It’s OK, I forgive you,’ she slurs into my ear. ‘Just go get them because your outfit looks silly without them.’

‘Help,’ I mouth at Myfanwy, trying not to gag into the tight hug.

‘You all right, Celeste?’ Myfanwy asks in her slowest, most condescending tone. Still holding onto me, Celeste turns her head to peer at Myfanwy, confusion across her face.

‘Myfanwy?’ she asks, squinting harder now. ‘What are you doing here?’

Myfanwy snorts and gestures at her costume. She looks to me. I bite my lip, trying to extract myself from between Celeste’s boobs. ‘I mean,’ she adds slowly, ‘Iamthe bride’s best friend.’

Celeste snorts. ‘I’mher best friend,’ she retorts, turning to square up to Myfanwy.

‘Nope,’ Myfanwy answers.

Celeste spins back to me. Her eyes are wet as she grips me tight around my shoulders.

‘Ginny, Iamyour best friend, aren’t I, darling? I know I’m your mother, but we can be parent–daughterandbest friends, can’t we?’

‘Um…’ I am trapped, panic-glancing between Celeste and Myfanwy. My mother doesn’t wait for an answer. ‘Youhaveenjoyed yourself on your hen do, haven’t you, darling, Ginny?’ Her eyes – blinking and wide – search mine, and I swallow hard as she continues, ‘I know you said you didn’t want a hen do and you specifically said you didn’t want any of this, but you didn’tmean it, did you? I know you didn’t mean it. And you’ve had a wonderful time with all your lovely friends, haven’t you?’

I don’t even falter, trying not to glance around at all the strangers she’s invited. ‘Best time ever, Mum! I’m very grateful. It’s all been so much… fun.’ Behind Celeste, I spot Myfanwy covering her mouth, suppressing amusement or irritation. Probably both. I carry on regardless, well awareof my lines. ‘It’s been the best weekend of my life, Mum, thank you so much.’

Celeste nods, satisfied. ‘I can’t believe you’re getting married in a few weeks,’ she says now and I meet Myfanwy’s eyes again. I can tell she’s thinking about the predictions again – one in particular.

Because what’s a person meant to do when they’re destined to meet their soulmate at the age of thirty-two – but they’re also getting married in a month?

CHAPTER TWO

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