They nodded at him wearily but gratefully.

He crossed the room and used a screwdriver to lever the front panel off a speaker, displaying more tattoos across his back.

Babs’s eyes fixed on him. “I hope you know what you’re doing...” she said.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m an expert.”

Babs rolled her eyes to Carla. Fran’s biceps rippled and Babs looked down at her own hands, tracing a finger over her raised blue veins. There was a touch of regret in her eyes, and she suddenly looked all of her sixty-plus years. She tore the corner off a pastry and batted the flakes off the bar with her hand. “I cleaned your room earlier and spotted the tarot cards on your bedside table. Are you interested in those things?” she asked Carla.

“Not really.” Carla’s coffee was so hot it made her tongue feel fuzzy. “A fortune teller gave them to me. They’re supposed to relate to the men I’m going to meet.”

“Me and Suzy Soo used to drink cider, look at the tarot and tell each other’s fortunes. It was probably a load of rubbish, but a lot of fun,” Babs said. She thought for a moment. “You know, she used to tell me that your family believed in some kind of relationship curse...”

Carla nodded and sighed. “Unfortunately, that’s true.”

“Can I take a look at your cards?” Babs asked. “Someone in the bar told my fortune a few weeks ago, so I might remember some of them.”

Carla went to her bedroom to retrieve the pack. She handed them to Babs, who lingered over the ones with the sticky notes attached.

“I’m a bit rusty, so I’m looking at the images to jog my memory. I know that kings are supposed to take charge and that they enjoy the finer things in life. Obviously, The Lovers is all about romance, connection and also temptation.” She winked and tapped a different card, The Knight of Wands. “You have to watch out for this hothead. He’s fiery with a temper.”

“That sounds just like Pedro, the man I met yesterday,” Carla said glumly.

“Tsk, don’t let one maggot ruin the apple cart.” Babs picked up The Magician. “This guy is more positive. He’s got lots of energy and drive to make things happen. The Magician casts a spell on people and is a real showman.”

Her description was similar to Myrtle’s and Carla peered more closely at the illustration of the man wearing a black cloak with his arm raised triumphantly in the air. She knew exactly who it reminded her of.

Adam Angelino had been fun and glamorous. Over the few weeks they’d spent together in Portugal, Carla had gotten hooked on the excitement of dating a minor rock star, the VIP areas at local music festivals, the gorgeous people he knew and the jealous glances she received from other women. She remembered boarding a flight with tears streaming down her face when their relationship had ended.

Picking up her phone, she found his website and showed Babs a few photos of him. Adam was still performing in a band, gigging in hotels along the Algarve. He looked just like she remembered him, all spiky black hair and eyeliner, and the twinkle in his eyes gave her a floaty feeling, like she’d drunk half a bottle of rosé wine on a sunny day. “He must have met thousands of women over the years,” she mused aloud. “Pedro’s proof that I’m not that memorable.”

Babs tutted at her. “Rubbish. You’ll never be any younger or more fabulous than you are today. Remember that.” She took a closer look at Carla’s phone. “This fella looks all starry and bright. A singer, eh? Portugal’s only a two-hour flight from here. You could message him now,” she urged with mischief in her eyes.

Carla tugged her earlobe with unease. “I don’t think so. I haven’t managed to speak to Tom properly yet, so he doesn’t know the full story of why I’m here. It’s probably best to leave things alone, especially after Pedro.”

Babs picked up the deck of cards again. “You’re only one card down and still have five to go.”

Carla looked at the shots of Adam again. She remembered dancing with disco lights bouncing off their dark glasses, and him cartwheeling in the sea with his trousers rolled to his knees. When she thought about the sweet, special couple of months they’d spent together, a flutter started up in her stomach. Did it make her a bad person for feeling this way, especially while her fiancé was in America? “It’s not advisable or wise to meet him again,” she said.

“Can you really go home and forget this important man exists? You could message Adam now.”

Carla toyed with her pendant and browsed the list of gigs on Adam’s website. He was performing in Carvoeiro, a small Portuguese coastal town she’d once visited, the night after next, and Babs’s words took root in her head. Could she really abandon her search and forget any of this had happened?

“It’s up to you, petal,” Babs said.

Carla eventually nodded and she sent Adam a brief message. “There? Happy now?” she asked Babs, setting her phone back down on the bar with a thud.

“I will be if he replies.”

They were finishing their coffees when a ping from Carla’s phone echoed around the room.

Babs’s eyes twinkled. “Is that him? What did he say?”

Carla held up her phone so they could both read the message together.

Hey you. Of course, I remember you. Fun times. When/where would you like to meet (I’m in Portugal)?

Carla held her breath. How about after your gig in Carvoeiro? she replied.

Sounds great to me. See you there. Looking forward to it!

Babs punched the air. “I’d jump on a plane to join you if I didn’t have a couple of karaoke evenings lined up.” She ran a critical eye over Carla’s black dress. “Do you have anything more exciting to wear when you meet him?”

“Not really.”

“Well, let’s do something about that. You’ll want to stand out, not blend in.” Babs smiled at her. “I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

And the problem was, Carla had a good feeling about Adam, too.

After they’d tidied their coffee cups and paper bags away, Babs followed Carla to her bedroom. She bent down and sighed as she rummaged through Carla’s suitcase. “Your stuff is smart but has zero pizzazz. I’ll fetch some of my outfits, to see if there’s anything you like.”

A few minutes later, an array of floaty dresses with embroidery and tassels, silk tops with bell sleeves and paisley ankle-skimming skirts covered Carla’s bed. “You can keep anything you can fit in your luggage. I used to wear these things onstage and have got loads of them. We should give your makeup a trial run, too, before you meet Adam.”

Carla sat in the living room on a chair while Babs brandished a brush and hairspray, trying to make her bangs look less severe. She added flicks of black kohl to Carla’s eyes and dabbed red lipstick on her lips. “You’ll look like Joan Jett by the time I’ve finished with you,” she said.

“Who’s that?” Carla asked from the corner of her mouth. “Please go easy on the eyeliner.”

“Sorry, no.” Babs laughed.

The TV was playing in the background and Babs occasionally glanced at a property program while she performed Carla’s makeover. “I love this show, Find Your Happy Place,” she said. “Gorgeous people selling gorgeous houses and apartments. Me and Diego used to watch it together and never liked the same ones.”

Carla didn’t look at the screen, instead staring into space as she wondered why Babs and Diego hadn’t worked out as a couple when Babs obviously still adored him. “Have you been separated for a long time?”

“Three years and four months, though we were never married. I didn’t see the point in a piece of paper proving we loved each other, but it was a major bone of contention for Diego.” Babs brandished a blush brush with intent. “He comes from a big family who all expected us to walk down the aisle and have kids. When I didn’t get pregnant, I felt under scrutiny, judged, like I wasn’t a proper woman. Diego never made me feel that way, but it was how niggles started in our relationship.

“They got bigger and I kept pushing him away, testing his love for me, I guess. Diego kept assuring me, until one day I pushed him too far.” She applied color to Carla’s cheeks too vigorously, tears welling in her eyes. “If I’ve ever felt second best, I did it to myself. He was my only family, and now there’s just me.”

Carla’s heart tugged for her new friend. She moistened her lips, wondering if she was inadvertently pushing Tom away, too. Searching for her exes was like another test or entry requirement for him to join her family, and the longer they were apart, the deeper her search was becoming. The secrecy was like cotton candy on a stick, growing bigger and getting stickier. “Perhaps it’s not too late for you both,” she said.

Babs gave her a rueful smile. “I’ve told myself the same thing a thousand times over. Yet, here I am, running my little bar, and Diego’s out there saving people’s lives. Perhaps we were never a good match after all.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Anyway, speaking of family, while I was digging out some clothes for you, I found something that belonged to your mum.” She took a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Carla.

It was yellowing and looked ancient, the writing faded to pale gray. There was a column of dates and names and one of them was underlined a couple of times.

Agatha.

Carla said it out loud with surprise in her voice. “Our family curse supposedly originated with someone called Agatha. Maybe mum was researching our ancestry.”

“Ooh, spooky. Perhaps I should have left it in my wardrobe,” Babs said, chuckling. “Keep it if you like.”