Sophie Crawford studied English at Cambridge before going on to work across music and theatre. Below is an extract from her first novel on queer culture and folklore.
Email: s.u.crawford@gmail.com
This is an extract from a novel.
Context:
Earlier Hope has been invited to the wedding of Julia and Leah. Julia is Hope’s ex-girlfriend. Hope has also been asked to play in the wedding band. Hope’s friend Anna has suggested she have a tarot reading to work out what to do.
Madame Susan’s was above a travel agents on Holloway Road. Her name was taped over one of the buzzers. If it was a brothel Hope would just leave, they couldn’t trap you in a brothel could they? I mean they could rob you but they couldn’t keep you there? Unless they decided to traffic her. She took a photo of the door and sent it to Anna: Is this definitely the right place? I’m worried this might be the last message you ever receive from me
Anna replied: That’s it, she’s in the upstairs flat – don’t worry it’s just her house.
Hope’s mind skidded over when she had last entered a stranger’s home. There were piano lessons when she had been small with Mrs Katz who was extremely old but had a bewilderingly young child; there was that time she had bought an amp from a man in pyjamas in Tooting and there was almost every romantic encounter she had ever had. She exhaled, it would be fine. A thin voice came down the line.
‘Hello?’
‘Uh hi it’s Hope for the reading, for the tarot reading.’
She pushed open the door and went up the carpeted stairs. The wallpaper was painted wood chip like she had growing up. She sliced her nail over the bobbled surface. She knocked at the door on the landing. Slippers and trainers were piled outside, it smelt like old cooking and incense. The door opened and Hope stepped backwards as a tearful looking woman exited, wiping her smudged eyeliner with one hand and wafting the other behind her as if to bat them gently away from her departing body.
‘See you again soon Cath.’ The woman standing in the doorway said, before turning her attention to Hope. ‘Here for a reading?’
Madame Susan had purple-black hair which dryly haloed her soft, white face. Her cheeks hung in swags either side of her thin lips that had been painted a bright magenta. Her eyebrows were crookedly drawn on. Over her left eye the dark pencil forked at the middle, like a long tailed ‘y’ dangling over her eyelid. It was either a mistake or a psychic thing or both, a psychic mistake. Silver bracelets pinched the flesh of her arms.
‘Come on in.’ Madame Susan led the way into a small sitting room where heavy velvet curtains blocked out the view of Holloway Road.
‘Have a seat – would you like a cup of tea?’
Madame Susan left the room before Hope could reply. The tarot table and chairs took up the space between the white leatherette sofa and the TV. Small side tables were cluttered with figurines and breakable objects: A pair of dancing skeletons; a large conch shell painted with a weary cat; an obscene number of crusted crystals vying for surface area. A wind chime hung in one corner, its wooden fish swaying gently. Madame Susan emerged with a mug for each of them and settled herself opposite Hope. She straightened the velvet table covering and laid a large freckled hand on a pack of cards.
‘Now is this your first time?’
‘Yes, a friend of mine gave me your number.’
Madame Susan picked up the cards and started to clumsily shuffle them.
‘Is there anything in particular that brought you here today? Or is it just a general reading you’re after?’
There was something disconcerting about how much of a struggle it seemed to be for Madame Susan to shuffle. The cards kept getting away from her. Hope took a sip of tea that tasted acrid and stewed. This whole situation felt absurd, but then ever since Julia had dumped her nothing had felt completely normal.
‘I had a girlfriend -’
‘Lesbian are you?’
‘Oh um yes.’
‘Lots of my clients are.’ Madame Susan tipped her head to one side and smiled.
‘Right ok,’ Hope paused trying to work out the right response: High five? She drank some more tea. ‘Uh so I had a girlfriend and she broke up with me -’
‘Oh I’m sorry.’
‘About six months ago and now she’s getting married and she’s invited me to the wedding and I’m not sure if I should go.’
It felt sharp and strange to say out loud, and once the words were spoken they seemed impossible. Julia still lived in the flat Hope had imagined moving into with her. Julia almost certainly still ate the same breakfast of joyless soaked oats that Hope had learnt to make to her precise specification. Julia could not be marrying someone else. Madam Susan pursed her lips and stopped shuffling the cards.
‘And why do you want to go? Are you still in love with her?’
Hope choked on her tea and droplets sprayed across the table. Madam Susan wiped one off her face.
‘Well let’s see what the cards have to say shall we. Just keep your question in your mind.’ Madam Susan began laying out the cards. I need to know if I should go to Julia’s wedding, Hope thought. I need to know if Julia will see me, immediately fall in love with me and call off the wedding. If Julia will actually keep all the wedding plans in place but just marry me instead. The backs of the cards were illustrated with a wooden chest pouring out gold coins and gem stones. A woman lay lethargically caressing the lid of the chest, her skin was ribbed with green and black scales. Hope wondered what the design was meant to mean – fish love money? Madam Susan told her about each card as she flipped them over. Hope noticed a bulb on the white fairy lights strung across the room was winking.
This situation with Julia and Leah wasn’t supposed to last this long. Julia was supposed to break up with Hope and miss her and take her back. That was how it went. That was how it had gone for a year. It was just Julia’s way; she was indecisive and Hope could handle that. Julia would break up with her and then pretend she hadn’t. Hope knew that she made Julia worry. She’d had unsteady work with different bands, and it hadn’t lined up with what Julia needed, but she’d fixed it – she’d got a job. She just needed Julia to see that she’d fixed it now.
‘Tend to stick your head in the sand, do you?’
Madam Susan was pointing to a card which showed someone in a red cape walking away from a pile of yellow cups. Hope didn’t stick her head in the sand, it’s more that it occasionally rose up and enveloped her and it was easier just to stay very still until it subsided. The sand could be a surprisingly comfortable place to be. Julia had enjoyed confrontation. Hope had preferred to use her gigs as an anger outlet but now she didn’t have those. She tried to focus back on Madam Susan and her cracked eyebrows.
‘So it looks like the wedding might bring up some ghosts but I suppose that’s natural.’ Madame Susan said tapping a card with two people sat on a boat and six swords balanced upright behind them. Maybe that was her and Julia on the boat running away from the swords of marriage. She had always wanted to go on a cruise. Holidays with Julia had often been arranged to match up with a tour she might be on with a band. Julia hadn’t been wild about it. And they were less holidays more just sex in a different bed for a night or two, but a few of the places had been near the sea – that had been something.
‘This card suggests you might need some time alone to work things out, are you single?’
She’d barely been able to go to a party since Julia broke up with her let alone a date. She nodded.
‘Well it might be a good idea to stay that way until all this has blown over. The Hermit card means you need time for reflection to handle anything that might be stirred up.’
None of this was saying that Julia was going to fall back in love with her. What had been the point of this? The fish wind chimes tinkled as if in agreement with her thoughts. She didn’t need a tarot reader to tell her what to do. She’d go to the wedding and play in the band and prove to Julia that she was hot and she was ok and she was open to anything. Including getting back with her.
‘The Page of Cups! That’s a nice card to end on.’ Madame Susan tapped a card which showed someone wearing pink tights and yellow boots standing in front of the sea. The person was wearing a hat that looked like it was eating their head. A fish gaped from out of a yellow vase in their hand.
‘So this one here means a happy surprise, a big release. The Page can either be you or someone you meet. If it’s you then it means you will find a new way of letting things out. Do you do any sport?’
‘No.’
‘Oh well maybe something creative, I like those nice colouring books – whatever suits you.’
Hope looked at some of the pictures on the wall and saw that they were carefully filled in with felt tip pens. She imagined Madame Susan pulling out the book under the white glow of the fairy lights between clients.
‘If it’s a person – this happy surprise person, then it’ll be someone quite innocent. A bit like a child, intuitive and open. They’re offering something new and unexpected. Like a fish in a cup!’ Madame Susan pointed at the fish gaping out of the goblet at the unconcerned Page.
‘Can you think of anyone like that?’
‘No.’
‘Well just wait and see!’ Madame Susan opened her lips to smile. One of her canines rose higher than the others, sticking out as if she had a small tusk. ‘So it sounds like the wedding might be a bit rough but there’ll be a lovely ending if you do go. But the cards are just a suggestion, you could just go on holiday and skip the whole thing. I remember my daughter was engaged and then her fiancé left her for her friend Jessie, it was awful actually. Anyway on the day of the wedding she made sure she was in New Zealand. She said Mum, if I’m not on the other side of the world I’m worried I’ll torch the reception. I gave her a reading and it did say she ought to go far away which was for the best. They got divorced in the end, her ex and Jessie. But Jessie’s got a lovely little boy now and I do a bit of babysitting for her. She gave me that chime last time they were on holiday. So you know everything can be alright.’
Hope tried to map her situation onto Madam Susan’s daughter’s and got lost around New Zealand.
‘Do you want to take a photo of the cards?’
‘No that’s alright.’
‘Some people do, some people want me in it too! I say no! Not after having been in here all day!’ Madame Susan patted her hair and started shuffling the cards back into the pack. ‘Alright let’s just finish with a little prayer to release the spirits. Give me your hands.’
Hope smelt the slight sourness of Madam Susan’s breath and the patchouli rising from her skin. She closed her eyes. Maybe this was the way she would be reborn. Holding Madam Susan’s hand for a while, doing what she’s told. She could come back just for this. The wind chimes started to jangle. Hope tried to focus on her breathing. She wondered if Madam Susan would say some words or if the prayer was supposed to be in their heads. The pressure from Madam Susan’s fingers started to increase. This could be part of the prayer or the handholding therapy. Madam Susan’s grip was getting tighter, becoming damp and clinging. Her nails were digging into Hope’s hands, crushing her knuckles. Hope opened her eyes. The white fairy lights had all gone red, lighting Madame Susan’s face so it looked bloody and dark. Hope tried to open her mouth, but she couldn’t speak. She blinked her eyes, struggled to release her hands from Madam Susan’s grip. Her breath was loud and quick through her nose. Maybe the tea had been drugged. Maybe this was a brothel. What had they done to her mouth? At once the jangling chimes stilled and all the fish turned to face in their direction. Madam Susan opened her eyes, and they were blind crescents of red. She was smiling. If this was some kind of trick to make her believe in tarot magic it felt extreme and illegal. She’d give Madam Susan a terrible review and take pictures of her hands to prove the damage. Was it possible for someone to break your fingers with their bare hands? She shook her shoulders to fight for some release. Madam Susan spoke. Her voice was light and cajoling.
‘You don’t believe me do you Hope? I’ve got something for you. From now on you’ll have to find your way with blood washing your eyes. Now you’ll have to learn to speak with a tongue where stones arise.’
Was Madam Susan speaking in rhyme? Had she just been cursed? Something was heaving up her throat. Panic was making her mouth water. If she vomited and couldn’t open her mouth, would it make her suffocate? Madam Susan sat still opposite her. The thing in her mouth was solidifying and growing hard. It was pressing against the back of her teeth making them feel as if they would give way, cracking her jaw open, parting her lips. Hope was gagging, she needed whatever this thing was out of her mouth, but it felt as it would tear the corners of her lips. It felt hard and slimy. Her chest convulsed; her eyes were streaming. Madam Susan was not moving, not releasing her hands. She was trying to cough, trying to scream. She closed her eyes to heave it out of her.
‘That’s lovely,’ she felt Madame Susan give her hands a gentle squeeze and release them. She snatched them away, flexed her fingers convulsively and immediately touched her mouth.
‘I take cash or bank transfer whichever you prefer.’ Madame Susan was finishing the last of her tea. The room was lit as it had once been, white fairy lights, faintly swaying chimes. Madam Susan’s eyes were clear and milky blue. ‘What works for you?’
Hope stared at Madam Susan.
‘Did you say something?’ Hope was surprised to hear her voice was strong and definitely her own.
‘Just that it’s fifty pounds and you can pay however you like.’
‘No, about stones and blood.’
‘Are you alright?’
Madam Susan frowned. Hope looked at her hands, they were unmarked. She ran her tongue over her teeth, none of them were loose. She touched her lips, it didn’t hurt, there were no cuts. She swallowed, there was nothing in her mouth.
‘Uh I have cash.’ She said pulling notes out of her wallet, the last of her gig money. She watched the paper tremble in her hands as she held it across the table.
‘You don’t look well. Would you like a biscuit? You stay there.’
Madam Susan took the cash out of the room and returned with a ginger nut.
‘You have that. I know how it can be when you suddenly need a bit of sugar.’
Hope looked warily around her, chewing on the biscuit. Perhaps she should stop drinking caffeine.
2
Hope walked along the river to a corrugated metal wall. Overhead cormorants perched on a defunct winch, gently shaking their wings dry over the orange metal. She pulled the knotted rope and heard a bell clang. A dopey man in three jumpers drew open the gate.
‘Hey I’m here for the music rehearsal.’
He walked her through a yard where palettes were stacked into a teetering table, protected from the elements by a baggy tarp. Inside the corridor was cluttered with broken chairs and lumpen bin bags that looked like their contents was angular and heavy. A kettle was boiling on the floor plugged in to a dirty flex.
‘They’re in here.’ He nodded towards a room.
Two women sat on an enveloping sofa and a third on a wooden box. The room was low lit and smelt musty. In one far corner was a white porcelain sink. A metal ladder led up to a platform whose sides were decorated with plastic flowers.
‘You must be Hope!’
The woman on the wooden box sprung up with her arms open and hugged her before she could react.
‘This is the full wedding band now! It’s so exciting! Such a great idea of Julia and Leah’s, I just can’t wait! I think we’re going to make something so wonderful! I’m Ruby by the way. Would you like a cup of tea? I think the kettle has boiled.’
Ruby leapt to check the corridor kettle and ran back in. She was lean and angular, with full lips and sharp cheekbones. Her mouth took up a lot of her face and her very straight hair was cut into a misguided bob. Hope watched her dart around the room. Ruby looked familiar but she couldn’t place her. But then she could probably say that about most London lesbians in a certain age bracket.
‘Can I have another of those Women’s Wellness ones?’ A woman on the sofa said raising a mug. Her dark hair hung down one side of her face revealing the long, cool length of her neck.
‘Sure! Bilbo do you want another?’
‘Yeah ok’.
The second woman turned her cup upside down, emptying the drops onto the carpet and then handed it to Ruby.
‘Hope, select a tea!’ Ruby said smiling and gesturing to a shelving unit dense with paper boxes. Hope waved at the people on the sofa and went over to the teas. She didn’t recognise any one here so they must all know Leah. Julia had had very few friends and all of them had been straight – a symptom of her former closeted life. Julia had spent eight years with her ex boyfriend Freddy and their life seemed to comprise of working and buying expensive furniture. Hope sniffed a tea bag and put it in a cup.
‘Great choice!’ Ruby said appearing beside her with the grubby kettle making her jump.
Ruby had the air of a delusional actor or a religious fanatic. Her face changed suddenly as her expressions washed over it, solemn concentration to wide-mouthed delight. It felt like it wasn’t a good idea to make sudden movements in her vicinity.
‘Come and sit!’ Ruby said hitting the sofa which shuddered with dust.
Hope sat in her coat with her guitar between her knees next to the woman drinking Women’s Wellness tea and Bilbo who smelt of sweat and damp wood.
‘So the main song they want us to do is that Greg Ash one ‘My Bride’ which should be easy!’ Ruby said pulling the lid off a pen with her teeth. The lid disappeared and Hope thought it was possible Ruby had swallowed it in her enthusiasm. Greg Ash was an easy listening baritone who sang Christmas covers and crooned ballads. He reminded Hope of the waiting rooms in STI clinics.
‘Yeah we can smash that’ Bilbo said, fiddling with one of the metal balls that pierced the upper bridge of her nose.
‘I can work out some chords?’ Hope said. She hadn’t played music for over six months now. There was something painfully comfortable about returning to a band context. Even if it was this band, even if it was to learn a song for Julia’s marriage to someone else.
‘What instruments do we have?’
‘I play viola’ Women’s Wellness said, fishing the tea bag out of her cup and beginning to wipe it over her face. Hope wondered if Women’s Wellness had maybe never had a cup of tea before and thought this was just what you did. A trail of tea moistened her flawless cheekbones like fragrant perspiration.
‘I’m more spoken word, vocals’ Bilbo said, her finger twining round one of the hairs on her chin.
‘I’m percussion!’ Ruby said slapping the wooden box she sat on which gave a whirring sound. ‘And you’re guitar right Hope?’
Hope nodded.
They arranged themselves into a rough semi circle on the haphazard furniture of Ruby’s room. Hope got into a small plastic chair that looked as if it had been stolen from a children’s classroom. She unzipped her guitar and felt her hands begin to shake slightly as she touched its neck. She fixed her eyes on the paper where she’d written out the chords to ‘My Bride’ in biro. The tremors came in surges. The strings pressed raw and sharp into her fingers which juddered as she tried to hold down the first chord. A muddy sound was coming from her guitar as her sweating hands slipped between notes. She just had to get through these few chord changes, if she could do that she could play the song. The body of the guitar pressed her breasts down and she ground it further into her chest, hunching over it. She could feel the heat of her breath on her upper lip as she pursed her mouth. Bowing further she tried to play more quietly, prayed that they weren’t listening to her. Clumsily she worked through an approximation of the introductory chords. Her arm ached as it a-rhythmically strummed. She could not look up. Around her she was aware of the sounds of the others trying to play along. Women’s Wellness was plucking gently at her viola. Ruby was shaking a maraca to no discernible beat. Bilbo began to sing the first verse in which the lovers first meet ‘on a cold, cold street’. Her voice was forceful, defying the shaky foundations of her accompaniment. But even with her determination she wavered as Hope played another incorrect chord. Hope’s hands were cramping. The chorus was coming and she did not know how this next chord was formed and she would never know. Her fingers fell bluntly. The shaking had infected her elbow and was working its way into her shoulder. She pressed her lips into the body of the guitar, her breath came loudly through her nose. They would tell Julia. It would reach her through embarrassed smiles that perhaps they ought to find someone else to play. Julia would frown and roll her eyes. She would source some willing man with long fingers who was a lawyer but also played classical guitar. Bilbo was singing the chorus. With her eyes trained on the floor Hope could see Bilbo’s feet rocking from side to side trying to keep time.
‘My bride my bride, now you’re standing at my side.’
Women’s Wellness was playing long notes. Ruby had dispensed with the maracas and was slapping and scratching the cajon, more soundscape than rhythm section. Heat was creeping up Hope’s cheeks, grasping her eyes. She felt herself drawing inwards, constricting like a fist. She remembered looking out into the darkness from the stage, the sweat pouring so suddenly from her that it was like a fever breaking, the numb blindness of it. Smiling and laughing to the band afterwards shrugging it off. Fear rising up in her when she was alone. The air was a jangle of notes and sound and one of her fingers had split. It was bleeding on the string. Hope kept trying to push against the fret board but the blood was hot and made the strings slimy and hard to feel.
‘My bride my bride, my love I cannot hide.’
If she couldn’t play this, this four chord song what the hell could she do? Ruby kicked the cajon onto the floor. It landed with a smack and stopped Bilbo singing. Hope let her hand drop as she considered the fallen wooden box. The blood was drying on her fingers and on the fretboard.
‘Maybe we need to get them to choose something simpler,’ Bilbo said.
Hope kept her eyes fixed on the side of her guitar. The overhead light was reflected in the shiny grain. She said nothing.
‘I’ve got cake if anyone wants some,’ Ruby said.
They moved away from their instruments, left them like sagging balloons propped against chairs. Ruby cut fudgy slices of ginger cake and handed fingers out. Bilbo vaped, Women’s Wellness looked at her phone. Hope watched them and shivered. She sat like a child waiting to be picked up in her coat.
‘You sounded so good Bilbo,’ Women’s Wellness said.
‘Yeah you’ve got a great voice,’ Hope felt the smile spread weakly across her face. She feared they were looking at her and focussed instead on studiously picking the crumbs off her palm.
‘Maybe we can all just listen to it loads before we play together again.’ Women’s Wellness said, sweeping her hand through her hair.
‘Great idea.’
Hope pretended to take down notes on a piece of paper and just drew some jagged lines.
Ruby walked them out through the tumbled yard where a heavily swaddled figure was burning bits of wood in a metal bin. Black smoke rose into the air. At the corrugated gate Women’s Wellness and Bilbo went one way and Hope turned towards the other.
‘I can walk with you some of the way!’ Ruby said smiling and pushing her fringe out of her eyes.
‘Don’t you live here?’
‘Yes, but I need to go to the shops anyway.’
‘Ok,’ Hope said.
A cout on the river raised its wings territorially and began patrolling its patch.
‘So how do you know Julia and Leah? I’m so excited about the wedding, I think it’s going to be amazing!’ Ruby sounded a little breathless, Hope could feel the heat off her and wondered if she was slightly feverish, it would explain her behaviour with the cajon.
‘I used to go out with Julia.’
‘Oh right.’
‘How about you?’
‘I’m Leah’s cousin.’
Leah’s cousin. Of course. Of course Leah had a large extended family who all lived in this country and probably got together for lunches in houses with conservatories and rolling gardens. Hope’s toes crunched over the loose stones on the tow path. She had played terribly but at least none of the band members were romantic threats. Bilbo had a partner, Women’s Wellness was beautiful but didn’t seem like she was also engaged in a wild scheme to get Julia to fall in love with her, she was mainly on her phone; and Ruby was Leah’s cousin so that would be a sort of immoral family betrayal. If she could just make the song ok and ensure she got some kind of solo then it could all work out. She bit the hard skin on the corner of her nail. The saliva made a thin tightrope from her lips to her finger,
‘And how long have you been living there?’ Hope said, wiping her hand on her trousers.
‘Oh not long, it’s just a sublet while I look for somewhere more permanent. It’s such a nice group though! We all cook together – it’s great!’
Hope pictured the scabby pots filled with lentils and hard loaves of bread foraged from skips.
‘I hope this isn’t weird but I looked you up when I saw you were joining the wedding band and I really love so many of the bands you’ve played with. I couldn’t believe we were going to play music together! Are you doing a gig any time soon?’
‘Uh no, not at the moment – I’m not really doing music any more.’
‘Why?’
She glanced to check if this was a joke but Ruby’s face was bright and earnest. She must have been extremely focussed on her maracas not to notice the train wreck of Hope’s playing.
‘Ahh I needed to get a proper job, couldn’t keep living like a teenager.’ Hope tried to smile. ‘It was being with Julia actually that made me realise that. She’s so grown up.’
‘Oh but that’s so sad, I mean you must have been doing it for ages.’
‘Yeah well. How about you – what got you into percussion?’
‘I used to play in this drum circle in Australia, it was so amazing! We’d meet in the evening and get these rhythms going as the sun went down. It was so elemental – just made me feel like I didn’t need anything else in the world, just my body and the beat.’
‘Sounds great,’ Hope said thinking how uncomfortable it must have been. She could picture the semi naked men, the loose, hempen trousers. ‘Aren’t you going to the shops?’ She said as they passed the turning.
‘Oh yes! Sorry!’ Ruby planted her palm on her head so hard Hope heard her teeth knock together. ‘I thought that was so fun though! Can’t wait for the next one! And you live just down here – we’re neighbours!’
‘Yeah.’ Hope looked warily at Ruby’s open-mouthed smile. Ruby paused and moved closer to Hope. She felt the air between them charge and still. She swallowed, it was 5pm on a Sunday and her plan was Julia, not this sunset drummer with strangely hypnotic lips. ‘Well thanks for hosting’ she said waving and turned away.