Flight Risk by Barbara Valentin

Author:Barbara Valentin [Valentin, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing
Published: 2016-11-03T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

"What would life be if we had no courage to attempt anything?" —Vincent van Gogh

The small bell over Madame Marie's entrance announced Allison Delaney's arrival just as it had for the last thirty years. Comforted by the familiarity of the kitschy establishment, what with its always-lit candles, dark burgundy drapes and wall paper, and aroma of exotic spices, she sank as usual into the lush upholstered chair at a small round table to the left of the foyer.

An ornate crystal chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling. Flanking the wall opposite of the entrance was a velveteen antique couch of indiscernible design on which Marie's adorable granddaughter used to sit and watch. Years later, Marie had inquired about getting that same girl a job at the paper. Given that it was the only favor Marie had ever requested, Allison was happy to oblige.

Placed her in the Lifestyle department, if memory serves.

"Greetings, my dear."

Madame Marie entered the room, bearing a small teapot and matching cup. After she set them in the middle of the table, Allison waited until the old woman took her seat. Pressing a hand to her chest, she blurted, "Thank you for taking me on such short notice, my dear friend. I'm beside myself with worry."

Marie reached a wrinkled hand across the table and patted Allison's. "Your grandson?" she asked with a thick accent that Allison never had been able to identify, despite all of her travels around the globe.

"Yes." Allison almost wept with relief and gave a feeble smile to the only person to whom she had ever divulged her deepest feelings. "I knew you'd understand."

She watched as Marie poured her a cup of tea. Pushing it towards her, she instructed, "You drink. Save some for reading."

Pressing the rim of the cup to her mouth, Allison sipped the warm liquid through her lips as she had so many times before.

Her appetite for the truth had taken her down many strange paths during her storied journalism career, but none so strange as this. Still, it was Madam Marie who had confirmed her suspicions about her husband's affair, warned her about a traitorous board member, and most recently, predicted her only son's untimely demise.

When she had finished all but a bit of her tea, she handed her cup over and watched as the psychic swirled it three times before peering into it. After a few quiet moments, she began to hum and rock back and forth in her seat before instructing Allison to close her eyes.

Knowing this was part of the ritual, she did as instructed and waited anxiously for the result.

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