Page 48 of Wanting Daisy Dead

Have you ever met a stranger who accurately predicted your future? I have.

It was my first summer in Sicily, and I was standing on a lonely road after work, waiting for a bus to take me back to my apartment. The bus was late, my phone was out of battery, and dusk was slowly creeping in.

Then, suddenly in the silence, I heard a rustling behind me, and turned to see a dark figure in the trees.

‘Hello?’ I tried to sound calm, while inside I was freaking out. I tried to make out who it was – was it even human, or was it just the shape of the trees? But then I heard the voice.

‘Lady, lady?’

Was it male or female? I couldn’t tell; the sound was high-pitched, mean and scratchy.

‘Lady?’ the rasping voice repeated. I was terrified, and clutched my backpack to my chest. ‘I tell your fortune?’

Despite the heat of the day still holding on, I remember shivering as the disembodied words emerged from the darkness. I really tried to focus, but it was impossible to see a face in the shadows of the trees.

‘I tell you who you marry? Will you be reech, and happy ... or sad and poor? Will he love you – or will he lie?’

Was someone playing a joke?

I was cursing myself for staying at work so late – for being in this area of the town in the dark and not considering my own safety.

I looked around to see if I could hail a taxi or just run into the road shouting ‘Help!’ But everywhere was deserted, I hadn’t seen a car for ages, and there was probably no one stupid enough to be walking through the wrong side of town at night.

I was in flight mode, ready to run, but what if they ran after me?

What if there were more of them hiding in the trees?

Where was the bus?

‘You want to know if your love, he’s true? Will he be your husband?’

A branch cracking, a shuffling sound, they were approaching. I braced myself, ready to make a run for it.

‘Give, give.’ The voice was much closer to my ear. I could now see the person was wearing a shawl around their head, concealing most of their face. Dread prickled my skin.

‘Who are you?’ I asked, keeping my eyes on the figure as I slowly opened my bag to take out what little money I had.

‘I tell you your future. Your hand. Geeve me your hand. Come, come.’ The voice was urgent, irritable. Long fingers beckoned. I reluctantly stepped forward.

‘Your name?’

‘I’m . . . Sophie.’

‘And you are in the love, yes?’

I immediately thought of him, and a fire rushed through me. I felt my hand opening up.

‘I show you ...’ Their grip was strong as they pulled me towards them, their face now down in my palm, a scratchy lace glove on my wrist, hot eager breath on my skin. ‘I see a man, very handsome?’ Gloved fingers pressed clumsily into the lines and swirls of my flesh, pushing and kneading.

‘Oh?’ My heart was pounding.

‘Yes, a very beautiful man but ... I see danger, dark secrets. You have to leave here.’

Shit. I tried to get my hand back, but the hand holding mine was surprisingly strong, pulling me in. I was about to scream when I felt a whisper close to my ear.

‘Beware, teste di moro , too many dark secrets ... someone lies and someone dies ...’

That’s when I ran . . .

I’ll never forget the first time I saw him.