From chapter 8
‘What was all that about shuffling your cards anyway?’ said Jono, picking at a bit of cone still stuck to the sofa arm. Becka hesitated.
‘Sometimes stuff happens when I play them. Shuffling seems to stop it.’
‘What, like the fortunes?’ said Jono remembering secret loves and square boxes, ‘I thought they were just fun stuff, you know, co-incidences. They’re not some kind of occult shit are they? I hate that stuff.’
‘No, no’ said Becka, ‘nothing like that. I’m sure they’re absolutely harmless.’
‘But I keep seeing things,’ Evie broke in, ‘like ghosts and creepo people. It didn’t happen until Becka got those cards. I thought I was going mental.’
Becka pulled the deck out of her pocket and fanned it out. Moonlight shone though the window of the shed, landing on the upturned faces of the cards. The joker was less bright despite the glow.
‘I think you should chuck them away,’ said Jono, ‘trash ‘em.’
‘No!’ Becka cried, ‘I think they are important,’ she stroked them, ‘and quite beautiful in a way too.’
‘Important enough to drive my sister crazy, important enough to nearly kill you?’
Jono stood up, his frame filled the window, a silhouette of disgust, ‘if you don’t ditch those cards Becka, I can’t be around you anymore.’
‘But we’re family!’ said a desperate Becka, still holding the cards, caressing them.
‘Not enough to include those too,’ said Jono. He opened the door and walked through it into the night.