Fast Forward Page 7

  I almost said, ‘the red shimmery dress I bought last week’, but then realised that would have been twenty five years ago and I’d bought that dress to wear to my twenty-fifth birthday party. Tonight was my fiftieth and with any luck I wouldn’t be around to have to decide what to wear. “It’s a surprise,” I said. “What about you?” Might as well humour her.

  “Oh, you won’t believe what I picked up, I can’t wait for you to see it,” she replied.

  The poor woman would have to wait because I wasn’t going to see it.

  “How many guests are you having?” Jilly asked.

  Oh, she was looking at me. “Um …” Diora, help me out here.

  “I think around forty people are coming,” Diora revealed.

  Thanks Diora. Talk about mother-daughter mind reading. And forty people, huh? So that’s how many friends I had in this life. Not bad. I wondered who they could be and if I would recognise them. But I wouldn’t have to wonder, because tonight I’d be seeing my closest friends for a classy dinner, followed by Grant’s proposal. I had to keep that in the forefront of my mind. The image of him on one knee (he was used to that, being a photographer and having to get into weird positions to get the right shot), popping open a velvet case and dazzling me with a shiny ring that could be seen from the moon.

  “What are you thinking about?” Elaine asked. “You’re smiling like you’ve just, you know …”

  ‘Huh?” I snapped myself out of my visualisation. “Oh, I was just thinking about the man I love.”

  “Aww, how sweet. Will is so lucky to have such a caring wife.”

  “What makes you think I’m talking about William?” I snapped.

  “Mum!” Diora shot me a fierce questioning look.

  Oops. William was her father and I couldn’t upset a pregnant woman. “Just kidding!” Not. “Of course I’m thinking of your father. He’s so… nice,” was all I could think of to say.

  “He’s better than nice. That man’s been an absolute winner of a husband in my opinion,” Elaine said. “I wish I’d married him instead of Peter. Sorry, Diora.” She laughed.

  She could have him as far as I was concerned. The only man I wanted was Grant. Barb combed some gooey product into my hair.

  “Oh well, there’s no turning back time,” Elaine mused. “Peter gave me three beautiful children and we did have a good marriage mostly. We just … grew resentful, I guess.” Jilly slid a straightening iron over Elaine’s hair, forcing her curls into submission. “If I hadn’t given up my dreams for him so he could have his career, maybe things would have been different, who knows?”

  “It’s not too late to follow your dreams now, Elaine,” said Barb.

  “I’m fifty-three, love. My boat sailed out years ago.”

  “I’m fifty-six. And I think you can always catch another boat,” Barb said, tipping my head forward and attaching a clip to the top portion of my grey-black head of hair.

  “Hear, hear,” Diora agreed. “Most women live to one hundred these days and men to about ninety-two, so there’s plenty of years left in you yet,” she reassured Elaine, while Karina rubbed something into Diora’s feet. She’d opted for a pedicure instead of a hairstyle, since she apparently hadn’t been able to reach her feet for the last two months and they’d been unacceptably devoid of coloured polish for far too long.

  I almost told them about my plans for an international modelling career, but bit my tongue. That boat sailed out twenty five years ago, but as soon as I could get back, I’d be on it, steering that boat to the future I wanted and no way in hell would I let any icebergs get in my way.

  “There, what do you think?” Barb asked when she’d finished my hair.

  My lifeless strands had been converted into a voluminous mass of windswept hair, brushed back from my face like I had a permanent high speed fan in front of me. It was an improvement and obviously the latest trend as I’d seen other women with a similar hairdo, but not what I’d choose for myself. Anyway, bring on the make-up.

  I asked Barb to turn my chair around from the mirror so I could be surprised when she finished. If this worked, I’d be looking back at the real me in the mirror and Diora and Elaine would either not be there or would simply be strangers who’d come into the salon for a makeover like me.

  I closed my eyes as Barb brushed the soft eye-shadow coated bristles of a make-up brush across my lids and then expertly slid an eye pencil across the junction between my eyelids and eyelashes. She applied some sort of gel to my cheeks and they tingled. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but I swear I could feel my cheeks lifting and the crow’s feet around my eyes walking away.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you,” Barb stated.

  “Sure am,” I replied. I was in my element. I was no stranger to having strangers create art with my face and I breathed a sigh of contentment.

  After cooling my lips with a coat of moist lipstick, Barb had me close my eyes and she sprayed my face with a cool, refreshing mist. This had to be it. It was happening. I could feel it. The droplets of mist tingled like snowflakes on my face and I imagined them to be tiny fairies casting a spell of youth on my skin.

  Finally, Barb spun my chair around to face the mirror. My youthful reflection smiled back, but then I realised my eyes were still closed, so I opened them. Oh my God. I couldn’t believe it. A swirl of helplessness spiralled from within and a splutter escaped my throat. Then another … and another, until I was sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Kelli, Kelli, what’s wrong? Aren’t you happy with the result?” Barb gripped my shoulders. Elaine came over and placed an arm around my back. Even Diora manoeuvred herself up from the chair and waddled urgently towards me.

  “I’m … it’s … why?” Words jammed in my throat and I longed to tell them, to scream from the top of my lungs that I was really twenty five and didn’t belong here. But I couldn’t. They would send me to a facility for sure. That would be worse, because they’d make me wear an awful hospital gown with an exposed back, or a pair of orange overalls or something else hideous and if I kept insisting I was Kelli Crawford and had travelled a quarter of a century into the future, they might even call in an exorcist.

  No. No matter what I did, I was stuck in this warped fairytale and no Prince Charming would be coming to rescue me. I had to pretend. I had to come up with something, some reason for my outburst. Besides, Diora had given me this as a birthday present and I couldn’t bear to upset her. If I did she might start having more of those Braxton thingies and she might have the baby in the footbath!

  I forced air into my lungs and steadied my stomach muscles, resisting the involuntary pulsing that had overtaken me a moment ago.

  “Mum?”

  “Kel?”

  “Kelli?”

  They all looked at me with genuine worry on their faces.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that, lately I’ve been feeling like my life has been passing me by. It’s all happened too fast and I can’t believe I’m actually fifty.” Well, that was no lie.

  “But I thought you’d feel great after having your hair and make-up done,” Elaine questioned.

  I glanced at myself in the mirror, my expertly coiffed hair exposing my painted face, with coral-coloured cheeks to match my outfit and coral-coloured eyeliner under … my eyebrows? Since when do make-up artists draw a bright coloured line under your eyebrows? Not only that, my lips were coral too—with a sharp gold outline. What the hell? I shook my head and almost laughed at the result.

  The women around me still looked concerned and I had to reassure them. “When I turned around just now and saw my face, I cried because … well, because you did such a great job, Barb and … I wish I could look like this all the time.” Ouch. That was hard to say.

  Barb visibly softened and a hand flew to her chest in apparent relief. Elaine stepped back and smiled. Diora rubbed my back.

  “Oh, Mum. You always look great and today you’ll just look extra special.”

  Extra special indeed.
If Selena could see me now, she’d laugh till she ran out of air and as for Grant, he’d … well, hopefully he’d stand by me and say it didn’t matter what I looked like. Although, something inside told me it did matter to him.

  “You’re going to knock everyone’s socks off at the party tonight, Mum. You don’t even look fifty! I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the guests bought fortieth birthday cards by mistake.”

  I must have taught my daughter the art of lying well.

  “It’s going to be a great night and just you wait till you see the birthday cake Dad’s organised for you. It’s gorgeous! You can look forward to that and to blowing out the candles, and making a wish,” she said.

  A wish, birthday cake … that’s it! How silly was I to think that bungy jumping or a facial could turn back the clock. The idea seemed ludicrous now. But making a wish on one’s birthday cake? That’s what happens in the movies—they make a wish and something magical happens. And in my case, well, I knew exactly what I’d be wishing for.

  All the helplessness spiralled back down into oblivion and I knew the cake had to be it. I just had to get through this day as best I could and await the inevitable singing of Happy Birthday, dancing flames from the candles holding the key to my dreams.

  I stood up. “You’re right. It’s going to be a great night. And a great day. And I cannot wait to see my birthday cake!”

  “That’s the spirit!” Diora cried out. “Well, don’t waste this day of yours, Mum. When are you meeting Kasey for lunch?”

  I’d forgotten about my sister! Selena may be far away and Grant nowhere in sight, but Kasey must be here somewhere … and she would be forty-seven years old!

  “Um, I can’t remember.”

  “That’s the damn menopause again,” Elaine said. “Not only do you get to experience four seasons in one day and the surprise of finding random hairs growing from odd places, it kills your memory too.”

  Hmmm … this couldn’t be just a severe case of menopausal memory loss, could it? I shook my head. Of course it couldn’t and Dr Vischek would have said something if that was even remotely possible, wouldn’t he?

  “Permanently,” Elaine continued. “The hot flushes may be gone from my life but the shoddy memory remains. The only thing I seem to remember these days is my credit card number.”

  A knowing laugh emerged from Barb’s mouth. “Well, use it or lose it—so they say.”

  Elaine laughed too. “And boy, do I use it!” She held up her e-pad. “Speaking of which, here you go.” She positioned the e-pad near Barb’s payment scanner and Diora approached with hers too. “Put half on my VISA. Diora and I are sharing the cost for today.”

  “Thanks girls,” I said.

  “Our pleasure.” Elaine then gestured to my e-pad. “Look in your calendar, Kel, to remind you when to meet Kasey.”

  Of course. It seemed one couldn’t live without these e-pads. They stored everything and did everything. I pinched the screen and pressed Calendar on the menu. “In twenty minutes, at City Junction Cafe.”

  “Oh, I love that place,” Elaine said. “Peter and I used to go there quite a lot, until … until we didn’t anymore.” She looked sad and then shook herself out of it. “Anyway, enjoy! And order the most expensive meal, no doubt Kasey will be paying.”

  I hoped she wasn’t still angry with me. I turned towards the door. And then I realised our fight would have been twenty five years ago and with any luck we hadn’t had another one recently. As in, recently in the future. The past of the future. The–oh, I’m confused! Anyway, if she hated me she wouldn’t be meeting me for lunch. Ooh, I couldn’t wait to see her!

  Beep! A new message from William:

  Hope facial was nice. Hey do you know if the hardware store sells some sort of heavy duty rope that’s stretchy? ~ W

  Heavy duty stretchy rope? Why would I know anything about that, or hardware stores? He was the man of the house, shouldn’t he know that kind of stuff? Oh wait … he’s not really the practical, outdoorsy, whip-up-a-masterpiece-with-a-hammer-and-nails-and-wood kind of guy.

  I typed no idea, sorry then gulped. He couldn’t be serious about the bungy bedroom activities, could he?

  Beep! Don’t worry, I’ll have a look. Just about to go on my lunch break. If not, one of those stretchy exercise bands you have at home might do the trick.

  My God, he was serious. I gulped down my gulp and turned to Diora. “Will you be okay getting back to your car?”

  She flicked a hand at me. “Of course Mum, the baby may be slowing me down but it’s not stopping me from getting where I need to go. I just need double the time. Or maybe triple. Go and enjoy your day and I’ll see you tonight.” She gave me a quick hug, followed by Elaine’s.

  I walked out the door and turned left.

  Elaine poked her head out the door of the salon. “Kel, where are you going? It’s that way.” She pointed right.

  “Oh, whoops!” I waved to her and walked in the other direction. I had to find a map or something.

  At the top of what seemed to be a cross between an escalator and a lift was a large floating screen with a layout of the shopping centre. I typed in a search for City Junction Cafe and a red flag appeared, followed by a green flag showing me where I currently was, and the route I’d need to take to get to my destination. I imprinted the route into my mind and began walking.

  Just before turning a corner that would lead me to the cafe, a store drew my attention. It was one of those new-age shops, with the smell of incense in the air and brightly coloured tie-dyed outfits displayed on a rack at the front, next to a sign that read: Psychic Expo Here Today: Fri-Sun Only! I could see four psychics sitting in makeshift cardboard booths, each with their name written above and a sign saying 15 Minute Psychic Readings - $300.

  Three hundred bucks? They had to be kidding! It looked like I wasn’t the only thing inflated in the future. Three hundred dollars was probably equivalent to about fifty dollars back in my time. Back in my time? I was starting to sound like a grandmother.

  I glanced at the time on my e-pad. Fifteen minutes exactly till I was to meet Kasey and two of the four psychics were currently available. I wouldn’t normally have considered seeing a psychic—they were probably quacks—but what I was going through right now wasn’t exactly normal, so maybe there was something in this stuff. Maybe they could tell me what was happening to me and why I’d skipped ahead to the future.

  Could be a waste of time, or it could help me make sense of everything. It was worth a shot.

  Chapter 8

  Past, Present and Future

  “To know the road ahead, ask those coming back.”

  –Chinese proverb

  I entered the shop and assessed the two psychics with a twist of my lip—Liliana, or Rosie? Rosie gave me a look that said please pick me, so in sympathy, I did.

  Once payment was confirmed on my e-pad, Rosie drew in an excessively deep breath through her teeth, almost whistling and then released it so violently I thought her teeth might fly from their sockets. In fact, I think my windswept hairdo was more like hurricane-swept now.

  “You are going through a period of transition right now, yes?” she asked.

  I nodded. If only she knew the extent of that transition. Well, maybe she did.

  “I sense that you are feeling … what’s the word …” she circled a hand repeatedly, “… ambiguous about a situation at the moment. You’re not sure which direction to go in, yes?”

  “Um, not really. I know which direction I want to go in, but I can’t seem to get there.”

  “Yes of course, that’s what I meant. You’re torn between where you are and where you want to be.”

  No, she definitely said I wasn’t sure which direction to go in. Strike one for this psychic. She drew another deep breath and I held onto the edge of the table, leaning back, bracing myself for the onslaught. Whoosh! There we go.

  “You have children, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Beautiful
children, I can see.” She smiled. I shrugged and tilted my head. “Oh wait, I’m sensing something … yes, that’s it … you’re wishing you got a chance to have another child and you’re feeling like you’ve missed out, yes?”

  Was she for real? I never planned for any children and certainly didn’t want another one. “Actually no, I don’t wish that I had another child.” Strike two. Another strike and I’d be outta here.

  I shifted in my chair and Rosie did the same, and then she inhaled again, sucking the oxygen from our immediate environment. I gripped the table and wondered if oxygen masks might drop from the ceiling and a fasten seat belt sign would flash in preparation for the impending turbulence. Whoosh! Oh, dear God. I’d paid three hundred big ones for this?

  “I feel that deep down you did wish to have another one, but you’re hiding this in your subconscious. Sometimes we are not ready to accept our deepest desires.”

  I knew very well what my deepest desires were and a crying, messy, totally dependent miniature human being was not one of them!

  “Okay, I’m sensing something else now …”

  That I was not particularly satisfied with this reading?

  “Your mother.”

  I sat up tall and pricked my ears. Maybe she’d been warming up and was actually onto something now.

  “I feel you haven’t spoken to her in a while.”

  Well, that’s true.

  “I’m getting the sense that you need to give her a call, perhaps take her out for lunch. Have a good old mother-daughter catch up.”

  Strike three. That was it. I pushed my chair back and stood up, shaking my head. Rosie was a dud and in fact, I could probably do a better job.

  “Wait, what’s the matter?” Rosie asked, standing up.

  “Just how am I supposed to take my dead mother out to lunch, huh?”

  Rosie’s face went rosy and she sat back down in defeat. I turned to walk away but someone’s hand stopped me. Long purple fingernails gripped my wrist and my gaze followed the length of an arm until it met with the other psychic’s face. Liliana.

  “Wait. I can help you.”