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Back The Lollipop Shoes
Chapters (96)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. The Lollipop Shoes
  4. Dedication
  5. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. PART TWO
  13. 1
  14. 2
  15. 3
  16. 4
  17. 5
  18. 6
  19. 7
  20. 8
  21. PART THREE
  22. 1
  23. 2
  24. 3
  25. 4
  26. 5
  27. 6
  28. PART FOUR
  29. 1
  30. 2
  31. 3
  32. 4
  33. 5
  34. 6
  35. 7
  36. 8
  37. 9
  38. PART FIVE
  39. 1
  40. 2
  41. 3
  42. 4
  43. 5
  44. 6
  45. 7
  46. 8
  47. 9
  48. 10
  49. 11
  50. 12
  51. PART SIX
  52. 1
  53. 2
  54. 3
  55. 4
  56. 5
  57. 6
  58. 7
  59. 8
  60. 9
  61. 10
  62. 11
  63. 12
  64. PART SEVEN
  65. 1
  66. 2
  67. 3
  68. 4
  69. 5
  70. 6
  71. 7
  72. 8
  73. 9
  74. PART EIGHT
  75. 1
  76. 2
  77. 3
  78. 4
  79. 5
  80. 6
  81. 7
  82. 8
  83. 9
  84. 10
  85. 11
  86. 12
  87. 13
  88. 14
  89. 15
  90. 16
  91. 17
  92. 18
  93. 19
  94. Epilogue
  95. About the Author
  96. Also by Joanne Harris

What could I do? I did as he said. Held out my hand like a little girl, felt something – small, the size of a wrapped praline – drop into my palm.

When I opened my eyes Thierry was gone. And the Bond Street box was there in my hand, just as I’d seen it a moment before, with the ring – an icy solitaire – gleaming out from its bed of midnight-blue.

5

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Friday, 9th November

THERE, I TELL you. Just as I thought. I watched them throughout that tense little meal: Annie with her gleam of butterfly-blue; the other, red-gold, too young as yet for my purposes but no less intriguing; the man – loud, but of little account; and lastly the mother, still and watchful, her colours so muted that they hardly seem to be colours at all, but some reflection of the streets and the sky in water so troubled it defies reflection.

There’s definitely a weakness there. Something that might give me the edge. It’s the hunter’s instinct I’ve developed over the years; the ability to sense the lame gazelle without even opening half an eye. She’s suspicious, and yet some people want to believe so much – in magic, in love, in business proposals guaranteed to treble their investment – and it makes them vulnerable to one such as myself. These people fall for it every time, and how can I help it if they do?

I first began to see the colours when I was nine. Just a little gleam at first; a sparkle of gold from the corner of my eye, a silver lining where there was no cloud, a blur of something complex and coloured in amongst a crowd. As my interest grew, so did my ability to see these colours. I learnt that everyone has a signature, an expression of their inner being that is visible only to a certain few, and with the help of a fingering or two.

Mostly there isn’t a lot to see; the majority of folk are as dull as their shoes. But occasionally you can glean something worthwhile. A flare of anger from an expressionless face. A rose banner flying over a pair of lovers. The green-grey veil of secrecy. It helps when dealing with people, of course. And it helps at cards, if money runs short.

There’s an old finger-sign known by some as the Eye of Black Tezcatlipoca, by others as the Smoking Mirror, that helps me to focus on the colours. I learnt to use it in Mexico; and with practice and knowledge of right fingerings I could tell who was lying; who was afraid; who was cheating on his wife; who was anxious about money.