Chapter 19 – Ellen & Carla
Meanwhile just five miles away in Fleet, the modern name for La Fete, Ellen was on the phone to Carla. They were discussing the arrangements for Sunday Market the next morning. Ellen was at home in Flete, and Carla was at her mother’s house in Surbiton about 35 miles away.
Carla said, ‘Lover, I’ll pick you up in the morning about 7.30, we need to get a good pitch.’
Ellen replied, ‘so you are not going to come and screw me tonight then?’
Actually, the truth was Ellen didn’t want Carla her lesbian lover to come back to her house tonight because she had other plans. It was impossible for one witch to lie to another witch, but Ellen knew that Carla’s powers were more limited than her own, and she could not sense the lie over a distance of 35 miles.
Carla purred back, ‘sorry sweetie you know I have to take mother to this bore of a concert, but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night if we sell loads on the stall’.
‘I’ll take that as a promise.’
‘It’s a promise, see you in the morning, gotta-go and get ready, love you’.
Ellen said, ’love you too’, blew a kiss into the receiver and hung up.
As she did so she felt a stir in the alternative earth-plane, as if something significant was about to happen. Her pet cats felt it too, and the three of them came awake as one. Looking at her expectantly. But she buried the thought quickly, because she was excited about the visit of her next clients. She went to get ready, and the cats followed her up the stairs to her bedroom.
She took off her jeans and t-shirt and admired her body in the full-length mirror. Ellen couldn’t have looked less like the stereotype witch. She was tall, an inch under 6ft, bright red hair and big boned. She had broad shoulders and pale freckled skin typical of redheads. Her eyes were green, and she smiled easily. She also had what most men would describe as ‘fantastic tits.’ She emanated a sensuality that made her attractive to both sexes. Something she enjoyed and exaggerated wherever she could. She showered and put on fresh underwear, and a tight-fitting dress that exaggerated her cleavage.
Her gift was handed down from her mother. For as long as she could remember she had been able to see the alternative earth plane, and the souls who inhabited it. She had never been frightened or concerned about it, but as she entered her teenage years and her mother’s illness worsened she had accepted she was different.
She left school as early as she could, partly because she hated it and her teachers felt no affinity to her, but also because she needed to care for her mother. She knew that her teachers tolerated her absences because they knew she had a carer responsibility, but also because ’that arrogant tall argumentative girl in the 5th Form’ frightened them, and they were glad to be rid of her.
Her mother ran a discrete psychic business from home. Fleet was an area of affluence, and the ageing population consisted of many widows who had money. They came on a regular basis to talk to their dead husbands and relatives through her mother, and to receive tea and symphony. Ellen sat in many of these sessions and could also hear the conversation from the other side of the earth-plane, which the clients never could. On more than one occasion she had to stifle a cry or a laugh as her mother told a client a selected version of what the dead relative had said. Ellen realised this was one of the tricks of the trade. Tell the clients what they wanted to hear. So, when a dead husband said, ’she nagged me incessantly and I’m glad to be rid of her, her mother would say something like, ‘he misses you dearly’.
Her mother never advertised, but the phone rang regularly for appointments from new clients. Her business all came from reputation. When Ellen was 15, her mother told her that the mortgage on the house had been repaid in full.
Her father was a travelling salesman that her mother had an affair with. He disappeared, and according to her mother it was good riddance. As the cancer took hold and the morphine worked into her mother’s mind she spoke more and more lucidly to her daughter. She spoke of her life and her experiences, and that education from mother to her teenage daughter was beyond anything that could be taught at school.
As time went on, Ellen participated more and more in her mother’s clients sessions. Her powers grew to become even stronger than those of her mother, and as her mother’s illness weakened her, so Ellen grew in strength. Her clients now asked for Ellen to be present at the sessions.
When Ellen was 19, her mother lost her fight with cancer, and she was the sole owner of a house in Fleet, estimated to have a value of £1 million. She had no qualifications and no job, but a steady stream of clients. Regulars who had come to see her mother for her psychic powers, took to her daughter readily. Ellen now had a regular clientele.
She went to night school and learnt HTML, the computer language used to design web sites. She set up her own website and soon the trickle of clients became a steady stream, and she was able to earn a secure income.
She employed an accountant who kept her books, and she paid her taxes.
Witches could sense each other, and she formed close friendships with her Sisters who also shared the gift. This was not a psychic group that advertised on the internet, they didn’t have to.
Ellen and her Sisters also met regularly at psychic fares, where they could earn good money and attract new clients. Ellen had met Carla at one of these fares. Unfortunately, these events were also attended by those who pretended to have the gift. The Sisters took a dim view of this, and often took steps to expose these fraudsters. Sometimes it got pretty heated, and on more than one occasion the Police had been called.
She enjoyed these fares, and tomorrow’s Sunday market would also be fun, it got her out of the house. However, the best thing that had happened since she had set up her website, was she had a regular stream of younger clients now that not only wanted her mind but also her body. The images of her on the website were deliberately provocative, and offered help with a range of services from pregnancy, eating disorders, sexual therapy to contacting the dead. The fees for her physic readings were understood to include a lot more than the obvious. Ellen was what some called a ‘Sex Addict’, but it was an addiction for which she wanted no cure. She was in her voluptuous prime, and she wanted to enjoy it.
Tonight, was special it was a married couple from Nigeria, him a diplomat. He was tall, 6ft 4in, and with an African dignity that made the diplomatic service a natural for him. She was an African beauty with perfect teeth and wonderful dark brown eyes that had made her the winner of Miss Nigeria. The trouble was they wanted a baby and she was having difficulty falling pregnant.
Originally, they had come to her for psychic advice recommended by a knowing friend. A Sister who knew of Ellen’s skill, but also the special location of Ellen’s house.
Ellen’s mother had chosen the house carefully. On the face, it was what the Estate Agents would have described as a desirable family residence. A four-bedroomed suburban detached house with a large garden situated close to local amenities and in a highly desirable part of Fleet known as the Golden Triangle. This was an area of large individual houses, enclosed by three intersecting main roads. On the edge was a Chinese Restaurant, which was the favourite of many a late-night reveller. The restaurant’s prominent neon sign had given the area its nickname, but it was not officially on any map.
Ellen’s mother chose the home with care. It was built on a unique east/west, north/south crossing point of two powerful celestial energy lines that crossed this part of southern England. A witch felt it as soon as he entered, male witches were rare but they felt it too. The garden had been laid out over the years to contain all the plants necessary to accentuate the witches’ craft, but a casual observer would never recognise the Alder, Lavender, Witch-hazel, Holly and Willow for what they were. This was a witches house and garden.
When a couple like the diplomat and his wife entered the house the power that enveloped them changed them, but they were not aware of the fact.
Ellen sat them down in the dining room, it was the centre of the house and where the energy levels were concentrated. There was no crystal ball on a table or tarot cards, the furnishings were modern, the room bright and airy and the décor designed to make people relax.
She offered them tea, wine was available to other clients but this couple were Muslim and did not drink.
He wore a smart pin-striped suit, tailored in Seville Row. A white shirt and diplomatic tie. She wore a blue dress that clung to her body.
When tea was served, they dispensed with the small talk and got down to business. He spoke for them both, the dominant male, in the African way.
‘We have abstained for a week, and my wife has not entered my bed.’
Ellen opened an adjoining door, this lead to a downstairs bedroom where the curtains were already drawn. The room featured a large bed, which was actually two double beds pushed together. To the side was an ensuite bathroom.
‘You must make love to your wife now.’
They had both anticipated this and were looking forward to making love. The couple entered the bedroom hand in hand and began to undress. Ellen had laid out chairs, and even a clothes stand with hangers so clothes could be hung and folded neatly. She wore expensive lingerie under her dress, he wore boxer shorts where the bulge of his excited penis was clearly visible. There was also a wet patch on the fabric of his pants.
They found it normal that the physic was with them. But to the couple’s surprise Ellen undressed as well and lay on the bed with them. But they said nothing. Ellen’s’ white skin and freckled complexion were a contrast to the dark ebony skin of the Diplomat and his wife.
But Ellen wasn’t here to just watch, she was here to join in. The diplomats’ wife had a beautiful body, like Naomi Campbell’s the super model. She kissed the girl on the lips, and took a hold of the Diplomats penis through the thin fabric of his boxers.
Afterwards, the Diplomat and his wife refreshed themselves in the bathroom, dressed, paid her in cash and left. As Ellen hugged the diplomat’s wife as she left she whispered in her ear, ‘you are pregnant with a boy’. Ellen could see this with certainty with her psychic powers. The woman squeezed her hand in recognition and thanks, but said nothing to her husband.
They both got back into their Chauffer driven car as if they had just attended a business meeting. Their African dignity intact. Ellen never saw them again.
Ellen slept soundly that night and Carla picked her up in a trusty Volvo at 7.30 AM. The car was packed with boxes of the charms, mineral stones and dream catchers that they sold on the stall.