The Mystical Lady
The convoy of lorries thundered along the dusty road; they each stood out for miles with the circus logo large and glistening, shining and reflecting on the sides. It didn’t take long for the white vehicles to get dirty again, trundling through the large wet muddy puddles along the beaten track. The last few miles of the journey to Marley’s Common were always the bumpiest.
‘Gypsy Rosa-Lea’ sat up with a start. Rubbing her temples in a soft circular motion, she eased away the last dregs of her earlier ‘head’. Something had been gnawing away at her for the last hour of their journey. When she had a strange feeling, she was never wrong. This time she was cadging a lift with old Tom the handyman. He was as deaf as a post when it suited him. This was fine with the fortune-teller, she’d fancied a quiet ride today.
Rubbing her eyes, she turned, glancing through the van’s side window. Sleep had taken over shortly after they began their journey to Upper Marley. As they hit another pothole, Sarah lurched forward. It was the bumps that had awoken her. A queasy feeling rose up in her stomach. Darkness fell between the trees in a blanket of shadow as they drove past Marley Woods, it unsettled her.
Sarah Stoneham descended from a long line of Romany’s, all of them had travelled with Chester’s Circus for as long as she could remember. ‘Rosa-Lea’ was her working name, as was her mothers’ before her, and her grandmother’s. They all shared the same name and were equally blessed with the gift. Unless the young woman found herself a partner in the foreseeable future; she would be the last in the line of the Romany’s.
Something was troubling her. As the posters for the circus and the fair shot by, so did the chills.
“Thanks Tom,” Sarah smiled, stepping out of the van, glad at long last to breathe fresh air.
The old man muttered a bit, stepped out of the van and stretched his legs. One by one the lorries, vans, trailers and cars parked. In two days from now the big top would be up, as would the many side shows. Including ‘Gypsy Rosa-Lea’s’ glamorous tent. The shire horses were led from the horse box’s and the men and women got to work as soon as they pitched. The food kiosk soon had the generators running, supplying hot and cold drinks and anything edible in a bun. Sarah walked away to the nearby park, she needed some time to think.
The benches were damp following the heavy April showers overnight, she sat anyway – laying out her waterproof mac. The day was warming up nicely, well, just enough for a warm jumper and no coat. With the warm sunshine beating onto her face she slowly tuned out from the nearby loud chatter from the circus hands and tapped into her inner mind. Everything around her gradually drifted into silence and inside her tightly closed eyes she could see red patterns. A dream like state enveloped her as she allowed herself to open her mind to suggestion. The unmistakable voices of her mother and grandmother spoke in gentle tones. The man with the limp repeated over and over. Together with the words red-haired woman.
The colour inside her minds eye went dark. As if waking from a disturbed sleep, Sarah opened her eyes. Goose pimples spread over her arms; hugging herself, she stood tall and walked away. The fog had cleared in her head it was no longer pounding. The fortune teller had been given a clear message, but who was it for? What was the danger?
Saturday night came, and the Big Top was packed out, as was the fairground. Opening day was always the busiest. Gypsy Rosa-Lea sat inside her small gypsy style tent. Mauve satin curtains hung, draped with lilac tie-backs and sheer voiles. Atop her table with a heavy embroidered cloth was a magnificent crystal ball. She used this for effect only, the same as the candles, mystical charms and lanterns. The floor was graced with intricately coloured rugs. Sarah burned incense sticks in the background letting off heavenly scented forest fruits to add to the ambience.
From the squeals of loud laughter, Sarah presumed the clowns were mid-performance. Outside the air was thick with the smell of grease. Chips, hot-dogs, and burgers were the choices of the day along with sticky pink candy flosses and toffee apples. Three people had visited Rosa-Lea this evening. One elderly lady, a young man and a middle-aged woman. Nothing was out of the ordinary. Until… into the tent came a young lady with flaming red hair, tousled high in a loose topknot. Her cherry red lips and pale complexion were a stark contrast to each other. She wore expensive clothes. A cashmere sweater over tailored trousers, a tweed jacket hung over her arm.
“Please, come in, take a seat. May I call you Lucy?”
“By all means,” the young woman smiled. Her smile did not reach her eyes. She sat, puzzling where on her person her name was showing.
Sarah gently stretched out her hands, inviting her client to lay her hands palm upwards on the table. Closing her eyes for a moment allowed her chakras to open and her channels to permit those close by in another world to join in with this session.
Lucy stared at the woman with her headscarf tied around her hair, her frilly blouse and tiered skirts, wondering why on earth she thought this was a good idea.
“You have done the right thing coming to me,” Sarah spoke gently. “Tell me, who do you know who walks with a limp?”
“My fiancé,” Lucy replied.
Sarah studied the lines on the young woman’s hands, her face began to frown.
“What is it? What do you see? I need to know,” Lucy asked in a pleading tone.
Sarah could not possibly retell the horror that was unfolding before her eyes. The same dark shadows crossed over the table causing the candles to flicker, the ones that had covered the nearby trees.
“You must not go home tonight. Do you understand?” Sarah’s face plainly gave away her thoughts.
“Was your fiancé in the Army?”
“Yes, he was. Now he has flashbacks and black moods. I love him, but he frightens me too.”
“And you live with him, don’t you?” Sarah asked kindly.
“When I knew the circus was in town, I had the idea to come and seek you out.” Lucy’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I’m afraid to admit I was acting in desperation.”
“That’s as maybe, but I think you’ve had a premonition, haven’t you? I know what you have been thinking. Lucy, you have been in my thoughts today, as well as … Justin.”
“I dreamt he was going to kill me. I needed to know if there was another life for me,” Lucy shivered as tears fell down her cheeks.
“Yes, there is, but you won’t find it here. You must get away, but you already know that, don’t you? Maybe I can help you.”
For the next few days, Lucy Barham stayed with the generous people of Chester’s Circus. She was safe in their arms. Under no circumstances was any man with a limp going to be admitted through the main gates.
A week later, the convoy of lorries made their way along the bumpy track, heading for the next town. Sarah wasn’t staying with the circus. She’d formed a great friendship over the last few days and had seen a happy ending for both her and her new friend. A long way from here in a land warm and sunny was going to be their lifelong destination. Yes, there was a bright and happy future for them both, and their future families.
Trisha J. Kelly