She switched her smile back on and sidled over to join Jeanie and Cillian, placing a proprietorial hand on the small of his back. Imelda recalled her vague apprehension when she had first seen Vivienne at the talent show, and Shunty-Mae’s more explicit warning – ‘She’s got the devil in her.’ Her cards had confirmed as much. The High Priestess inverted, the Ten of Pentacles and the Ten of Cups.

Shunty-Mae was never wrong, and neither were her cards.

The young man who had been playing the piano arrived at the bar, perched on the stool next to Imelda and set down a plate piled high with food from the buffet.

Imelda smiled. ‘Hungry?’

‘Starving!’ he replied. ‘I haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. Too nervous about tonight’s show. But now I could eat a horse. Except I couldn’t. I’m vegetarian.’ He added with a grin.

‘I’m Madame Burova, tarot reader, palmist and clairvoyant – but call me Imelda. I’m going to give readings here at Larkins for the guests.’ It seemed she had decided.

‘Charlie Martin. Pianist,’ the young man volunteered, brushing crumbs from his shirt front.

‘Let me buy you a drink, Charlie Martin!’ Cillian appeared beside them and handed Imelda her whiskey and soda. ‘I’m Cillian Byrne. Wall of Death rider. Now, what’ll you have?’

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

1972