Maddie screwed up her nose. ‘She’ll only insist on giving me a reading.’
‘And tell you to get a job.’
Maddie rolled her eyes. ‘She never tells me what I want to hear,’ she complained.
‘That’s because she would never lie.’ Hannah began to clear away the breakfast. ‘You know Megagran. She takes those cards very seriously.’
‘Tools for Spirit,’ said Maddie, imitating her grandmother’s deep voice. ‘All right, I’ll come, but only because there’s nothing better on offer.’
Maddie wished those GIs hadn’t gone back to America. She smiled secretly to herself as she thought of them all returning to their wives and girlfriends with her Polyphotos in their breast pockets.
Hannah and Maddie cycled up Mrs Megalith’s drive as petrol was still scarce. Spring had thrown the countryside into flower and painted the trees and bushes with a fresh palette of colour. The pink hawthorn and white apple blossom glistened among the phosphorescent green of leaves and grasses. The sky shone a cerulean blue upon which small white clouds floated like foam on the sea. Hannah breathed in this delightful scene, feeling God’s presence in the beauty and power of nature.
‘Isn’t this rose quartz glorious?’ said Mrs Megalith as her daughter and granddaughter appeared through the kitchen door. She raised her eyes above her spectacles and smiled at them warmly. Maddie looked at the crystals of every colour and size placed in rows on the kitchen table and grimaced at the strong stench of cat.
‘What are they for?’ she asked, scrunching up her nose at her grandmother’s eccentricity. Ever since Megagran had visited India between the wars she had been obsessed with the strangest things.
‘This, for example,’ she replied, holding up the rose quartz, ‘is the stone of gentle love. Its energy is soft and silky and calming. It restores harmony and clarity to the emotions. But the poor little fellow needs a good clean. I’ll wash him with salt then leave him in the garden for twenty-four hours so he can soak up the elements. He’ll feel a lot better after that.’ She patted it affectionately. ‘Still loafing around, Madeleine?’
Maddie rolled her eyes. ‘I’m going to marry someone very rich so I won’t have to work,’ she said, raising her eyebrows provocatively at her grandmother.
‘That might be harder than you imagine. There’s been a war, in case it’s escaped your notice,’ Mrs Megalith replied, digging her chins into her neck. ‘How’s our Rita?’ she asked Hannah.
‘She needs a rose quartz, I should imagine,’ said Maddie, picking up a fulgurite absent-mindedly.
‘So excited,’ enthused Hannah. ‘I doubt she’s been much use on the farm today.’
‘Dear girl. I hope young George marries her this summer. She’s been a paragon of patience. Pass me my stick.’ She waved her bejewelled hand at her granddaughter then struggled to her feet. Her sky-blue dress fell about her legs like a tent, supported by the ledge of her large breasts and her thick shoulders. ‘Now, come and see the garden. It’s like heaven out there.’ They walked down the corridor where cats draped themselves across the sunny window ledges. Maddie sneezed. She didn’t much like cats. Mrs Megalith thought of the two dead cats. ‘Tell Rita to come and see me tomorrow. I want to do a reading. I feel something in my bones. Don’t ask me what it is, I don’t know. But now George is coming back I think she needs a bit of guidance from an old witch.’
‘They would have burned you at the stake a few hundred years ago, Grandma.’
‘I know, Madeleine, my dear. I was burnt during the Spanish Inquisition and it wasn’t pleasant. But I bounced back to live again, many times. Truth withstands flames and one day people won’t be afraid of the power that lies in all of us. Even sceptics like your Humphrey, Hannah. Even him.’
They strolled around the garden, admired the ‘clever little fellows’ that seeded themselves and popped up in such unforgiving places as walls and terraces, and fed the ducks that swam contentedly beneath weeping willow and poplar trees. They sat on the terrace and drank elderflower cordial that Mrs Megalith had made herself. The war seemed not to have touched Elvestree House where eggs, milk and cheese were bountiful. She bartered butter for meat and fish, and managed to buy coupons on the black market for £1 each. She even grew bananas in her greenhouse, giving all the credit to the crystals she placed among them. Everything thrived at Elvestree and, much to Hannah’s chagrin, Megagran’s garden was a rich playground for every possible bird, even those like the puffin and wagtail who weren’t supposed to stop off in England. For some reason, Elvestree was a paradise for migrating birds, even when they had to fly miles out of their way to get there.