Читать книгу The Drowning of Arthur Braxton - Caroline Smailes, Darren Craske - Страница 22

But there’s no time for dwelling, I’ve work to do. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got a choice, I don’t want Madame Pythia having a go, but my head’s all over the place. I’m trying so hard not to stand up from my desk and throw the biggest strop ever. I need Silver to help me, I need to try and talk to him later.

So, for now, I’m sitting at my desk, my bare toes on the cold mosaic floor, and trying to lose myself in a book. That’s when I feel a young lass’s eyes staring at me. I look up and I blush, ’cause I reckon she’s been standing there for ages and I haven’t even realised.

I put my book down on my desk. ‘I’m after an appointment?’ she says.

‘For when?’ I ask. I flick the pages of the appointment book forward to when there’s some free slots.

‘Today?’ she asks. I can hear a quiver in her voice.

I shake my head, ’cause I know how busy we are, and that’s when I glance up at her and that’s when I catch a look in her eyes. I’ve been working here long enough to know when people are desperate, to know when it’s proper important that they see a healer. This lass needs help, her eyes are pleading with me to help her.

‘They’re all booked up, Martin Savage has a drop-in later,’ I say, then, quickly, ‘but Silver’s always good at squeezing in an extra session. If you don’t mind waiting?’

‘I really wanted to see Madame Pythia,’ she says, looking down at the mosaic tiles. ‘I’ve heard she’s the best.’ She’s not crying but I reckon she’s not far off. She’s pulling her red hair into a ponytail and looking anywhere but at me. I’m staring at her face, her skin’s white like posh china. She scares me, she’s proper fragile.

‘She’s booked up for weeks,’ I say, I’m still staring at her, she’s still looking at the mosaic floor. ‘But Silver’s proper good.’

She nods and her face does an angry twist. I’ve seen the look before, it’s like the lasses blame me for them not thinking ahead and booking appointments, but there’s something else there too. There’s more to her angry twist than her just being cross with me. This lass is proper desperate.

‘What’s your name?’ I ask. ‘To write in my book,’ I say, holding my pencil over Silver’s page.

‘Madora Argon. But Maddie, I’m called Maddie,’ she says and her eyes meet mine. She smiles but her eyes don’t.

‘Why don’t you wait outside in the sunshine? I’ll ask Silver when he’s likely to fit you in and let you know,’ I say.

She nods again, turns and walks out the main entrance, she’s dragging her feet and it’s like she’s no energy left and it’s like she’s two hundred years old. I want to tell her that it’ll all be okay, but I don’t know if it will be. I can tell she’s broken, I’m guessing there’s a man involved and then I think about Martin Savage and I feel sick again.

And that’s when Silver comes to the desk and grabs the appointment book. He’s standing, looking at his appointments, and I’m trying my hardest to explain about Maddie before he walks away. I’m not even sure he’s listening. But then, just when I’m almost finished explaining, Silver throws the book on the floor, walks towards the main entrance and out to where Maddie’s sitting on the steps. I wish I knew what I’d done to make him hate me. I thought he was my friend.