My astrologer turned up the other evening wearing a pink and green baseball cap, with her hair tied back and sticking out through the hole at the back. Bits of it kept escaping from the tie and floating around in front of her face. She smokes incessantly, walking about the room, tucking the stray bits of hair behind her ears, gesticulating with her arms when she talks. Which she does quite a lot.

Her smoking disturbs me, not because I object to breathing it in, as so many people do. I've picked up enough about astrology to know that Virgos can be faddy, fussy and grossly intolerant people - absorbed with their own health to an extent that drives other people demented. At least, it has this effect on my astrologer, who can wax lyrical about the pernickety habits of Virgos, their delight in describing their ailments, down to the minutest detail, a delight not shared apparently by their listeners.
- Their hypochondria is well known, she said, 'as well as their pathological dislike of mess, untidiness, sloppiness, carelessness' - she waved an arm, to emphasise a point and knocked over a half-empty cup of tea she had put down on top of a speaker. The cup did not break but the tea scattered in a light-brown stain over my cream carpet.
- Oh I'm so sorry she said, staring in what looked like disbelief at the muddy pool in the pristine carpet.
- Don't worry, no problem, I said, rushing to the kitchen to get a damp cloth. I kept repeating consoling phrases as I scrubbed, fairly ineffectually, at the brown stain. I was so determined to prove that I am not the stereotypical Virgo who is shocked to the core by such indelible defacement of an otherwise spotless carpet that by the end of my frantic scrubbing I had convinced her that such things had no effect on me whatsoever, I could cheerfully live in chaos, surrounded by a heap of rubble if necessary.
- You really have transcended that need for order, tidiness and cleanliness, she said admiringly, sitting down next to me on a large cushion I had flopped onto, quite exhausted after my efforts; but secretly pleased with myself that the stain was now barely visible. She lit up another cigarette and looked around for an ashtray.
- I'll get it, I said, jumping up and retrieving the saucer I had given her to use, as I do not possess an ashtray. I emptied it into the bin as I had a sudden vision of the contents of the ashtray being spilled onto the damp tea-stain, mixing to an ineradicable grey paste.

As I said, her smoking disturbs me, but the reason for that is not because of the lingering stale smell of tobacco or the saucerful of cigarette-butts that needs to be emptied, or even because of any resentment that I'm being forced into inhaling this smoke just because I'm in the same room as her (I leave the window open anyway). No, what bothers me about her smoking is that, as an astrologer, someone who can give people insights into themselves and so provoke self-awareness and lift consciousness onto another level, like a therapist or healer, I feel its odd that she should do something so detrimental to her own health, that she should be so addicted. It bothers me that someone on the path of self-awareness should have such a bad habit.

When I once asked her about this, she said I was falling into the common error of imagining that people like her, into some alternative knowledge, were intrinsically more 'spiritual' or had some kind of power/authority not available to the ordinary person. In other words, that I was putting her on a pedestal and expecting her to live up to and embody all the ideals I felt were beyond my reach and so I was burdening her with enormous expectations. Whereas, she claimed, she was just an ordinary person like myself, with her own weaknesses and limitations and no-one was gong to turn her into some kind of ideal.
- How could I possibly live up to someone else's image? she said, rolling another cigarette. She was sitting very close to me and I wanted to reach out and put an arm round her shoulder because I was worried that I had upset her. But I held back. Because there was something a bit untouchable about her. That was what fascinated me. She was different. Maybe she was right and I was putting her on a pedestal. But I did not know how else to relate to her. A goddess is a goddess after all.

You don't call round unexpectedly at a goddess' house. You phone up and find out at what time they're free and can see you. You have to be fitted in to their busy schedule. And they come to you. I had never been invited to her house.

The first two times I saw her, it was on a purely professional basis. It was not that I really believed in astrology, I considered myself - and still do - a scientist, albeit open-minded, but still needing empirical proof before I could say I believe in something. To believe in something that cannot be concretely verified is to me, not far removed from an acceptable definition of stupidity. It appals me that people can be so gullible. Not too long ago I might have gone out of my way to convince people who subscribed to such unproven beliefs that they were being led astray, lulled into some kind of false security, inventing a reality that would only bring them grief when they discovered its illusory nature, its foundations of sand.

Nowadays I would not bother. Its possible I've simply become lazy. Or just don't care enough about people any more, to try to get them to see the error of their ways. It takes so much effort and for so little reward, because people so often get defensive if they feel their beliefs are being attacked. It strikes me as odd that people should get so attached to beliefs that are not founded on anything rational, but are really no better than primitive superstition. But perhaps some people simply need something to believe in. It gives their lives a sense of meaning. So even if it is a false meaning, I tend to be a lot more accepting these days. Because if I say what I really think, I tend to get attacked. So I keep my mouth shut.

The first time I saw my astrologer was really out of curiosity. A friend of mine had had a reading from her and was sufficiently impressed to tell me about it. I was surprised at first, I did not think for a moment that he went in for that sort of thing. I tried to make fun of him but he did not get nettled or annoyed he simply smiled in a vaguely irritating kind of way and changed the subject. He did not even try to defend his strange action.
- But you don't mean to say you believe in that surely, I said. My friend Tomas often comes up with surprises but he had never confronted me with anything quite as perplexing as this. His capacity for abstract thinking is remarkable, he is a mathematician of the highest calibre and he works with computers as intimately as the sun works with the seasons.

The first time he surprised me was one evening when he brought round a book of Samuel Palmer's paintings to show me and started talking about them in a way I could barely understand. He talked about mystic one-ness and the metaphysics of desire and I did not know how to say that I really did not understand what he was talking about.
- Are you religious? I asked.
I was desperately trying to find some category that might explain Tomas's lyrical outburst. But to my surprise he suddenly started laughing. When he saw the expression on my face, he stopped.
- Life, my dear Jack, he said, 'is a religious experience. In its highest, most purified expression.'

I did not know if he was being serious or not. The thought briefly passed through my mind that perhaps he had been overdoing it and was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I began to feel alarmed. Perhaps Tomas was not quite sane. Genius being next to madness after all.
- Nothing mysterious about it really. Ecstasy is simply liberation after all. Or are you not a philosopher Jack? Don't you think about origins and purposes and the supreme goal of consciousness?
I admitted that such issues were not my main preoccupation. He was silent for a while, then changed the subject.
- I met this girl, he began.

I felt a shaft of illumination strike my disordered concepts, shuffling them into a new arrangement that suddenly made perfect sense. Of course! That was why Tomas was coming out with such peculiar ideas.
- You've fallen in love! I said, not without a slight note of triumph in my voice. Because I felt I had solved the puzzle. But Tomas frowned.
- No, no, he said impatiently.
At the time I felt he was annoyed that I had pre-empted him, stolen his thunder. Now, I have to admit I am not so sure. Maybe my total ineptitude in the face of mystical concepts had finally managed to irritate him.
- It's not like that. Falling in love means becoming enslaved to your own desires. And who do you fall in love with anyway?

While I was searching for an answer to this, wondering if it was some kind of riddle or trick question, Tomas answered.
- With yourself of course. A part of yourself that admittedly you have projected onto someone else, but it's still yourself. It works like a kind of camera in reverse. The picture's there first and then you take it.

He laughed at this and poked me in the ribs but I could not join in for I did not really see the joke. Marda, my astrologer, has since told me Tomas is an Aquarian and they are all a little bit odd, not really on this planet at all, their thought-processes are definitely alien and she thinks that's why Aquarians do not feel exactly at home here.
- They get themselves misunderstood all the time, she said. 'In fact, they make a point of it. It's the one thing they are really good at. No, that's not fair. They are good at all kinds of things, their minds work on free association as easily as the rest of us work on solving problems. While most of us work on self-realisation, Aquarians are busy perfecting the art of travel.'
- Travel? I asked not having a clue what she was talking about and hoping she would enlighten me.
- Night travel, Marda said, in the terse kind of manner one uses to silence a tiresome child.

I felt hurt but I tried not to show it. She had told me once before that my Moon was in Cancer and that was why I could be huffy and withdrawn at times. So I was determined not to let her know she had upset me. It seemed to work as she did not say much after that and soon left.

Afterwards, I wished I had said something. She might have been sympathetic. She might even have given me a consoling cuddle. What an idiot I was, not to tell her. What had I missed! Marda coming close to me, putting a hand on my arm - I buried my head in the pillow to shut out such unbearable visions floating in front of my eyes.

When Tomas told me he had had an astrological reading, though I was surprised, I was getting used to the odd things that he would come up with. I felt I had to challenge him on that one, but he refused to get involved in an argument about beliefs and their foundations.
- See for yourself, he said.

And of course I told him I had no intention of wasting my time and money. Conversations after that were peppered with astrological references which meant nothing to me.
- You seem to have learned a lot about it very quickly, I said, feeling suspicious and quite a bit jealous too because I felt this new language and way of seeing things was becoming a barrier between me and Tomas. I had come to rely on his company, his talk, his ideas, his enthusiasm and his willingness to listen, much more than I had realised. I felt as if astrology was taking him away from me.
- You call me gullible he said once, 'but I would call you scared. And I don't know why. You accept a lot of what the psychologists say. And what is their study based on? Have you ever asked yourself that? Their reference point - and he leaned closer to me, his eyes glinting with laughter - is animal behaviour! They have, my dear Jack, no cosmic or spiritual reference point. They do not include what cannot be measured, tested and verified. They see human beings as programmed robots, forever reacting. They do not recognise the existence of the soul - despite the fact that the word 'psyche' means 'soul' - because it cannot be seen, far less measured. Astrology is an ancient science, given to us - or discovered, if you like - thousands of years ago. And it connects us with the cosmos! It provides the spiritual link!'

All I could think of saying was that it could not be proved. And since that was precisely the kind of thinking that Tomas was condemning, I kept quiet. And at some point, I decided to have a reading, for reasons which I felt were wrong. It was not really because I was interested in astrology, it was because I did not want to lose the kind of closeness I had had with Tomas. He was my best friend, he was someone I could really talk to. And after the first reading, the reasons for my continuing interest in astrology were even more wrong.

When I told Tomas I would like to have a reading, he was delighted and gave me Marda' number.
- Call her and make an appointment, he said.
I felt like a complete fraud.

The evening of that first appointment, I became extremely nervous. What on earth was going to come out of this? What had I let myself in for? Perhaps she was a member of some dubious cult who wanted to brainwash you and get power over you. These sects did exist after all. I had read about them in the papers. What if Tomas had already been drawn in, hypnotised, that was probably the way they did it, and he was now trying to convert me?

At one point, I nearly ran away. I could say I had forgotten, I thought, that's it, I could call tomorrow and say how sorry I was. I did not have to go through with this, no-one was forcing me, I was a free agent, a being of free will. So why was I putting myself through this?

So my thoughts went on, relentlessly. In the end, I tried to ignore them. If I was really afraid, then I was going to see this through, I was not going to be ruled by my fears.

And that's how I came to meet Marda. She arrived at my door wearing a long coat, a wide-brimmed felt hat and an enormous woolly scarf which she had wound round her head until only her eyes and nose were visible. It was winter then, and very cold. I showed her into my livingroom which I kept warm because I have bad circulation and feel the cold. She looked round the room, taking in everything, taking off her coat, unwinding the scarf.
- It's very warm here, she said.
- Is it too warm for you? I can turn the heating down.
- Not a bit. It's wonderful. My flat gets so cold because I've got this tiny gas fire and it's on a meter - I'm always running out of 50ps.
I was secretly shocked at someone - and not just anyone, but an astrologer! - being so disorganised as to run out of 50ps. Why didn't she plan ahead and get in a stock of them? You don't have to be adept at reading the future after all, to know that you'll need more coins for the meter. But I successfully disguised my reaction and asked her, 'Can I get you some coffee?'

- Love some. Thank you.

When I brought the coffee through from the kitchen, she was sitting on the sofa, gazing at the fire. Something happened to me then and I still don't know what it was or how to describe it. But all my fears seemed to vanish because that image of her was so total, so complete, that it effaced all my previous anxieties. Throughout the entire reading, I watched her as if some miracle of nature was taking place in front of my eyes.

Afterwards I could hardly remember a word she had said but I had recorded it and played it back several times in the next week, just to recall how it felt to sit there beside her, to remember the effect her gestures had on me, the way she rolled her cigarettes, deftly, expertly, the way she moved her hands and sometimes got up and walked up and down.

About two months later, I called her again and asked if she could come to talk about what was happening in my chart now and what was likely to come up in the near future. She stayed quite late that time. After discussing my chart, we sat and talked about things that had happened in our lives. I kept making cups of coffee, not knowing any other way to keep her talking, keep her there in my flat, keep her there beside me. Before she left, I told her she was very welcome to come round any time, have a coffee and continue our conversation, but I never expected her to take me up on it.

To my complete amazement, she phoned me the next day to complain that she had drunk so much coffee she had not been able to get to sleep the night before. I hardly knew what to say. I had not slept very well either because I had not been able to stop thinking about Marda. But I could hardly tell her that. A moment later the thought came into my mind that the health of my kidneys might be the necessary sacrifice for spending time with her. But I could not say that either. So I reminded her of my invitation.
- Thanks, she said, and rang off.

For the next few weeks, I found it very hard to concentrate. My mind was almost exclusively preoccupied with thoughts of Marda. It was awkward, when Tomas asked how I had got on. For some reason, I did not want to tell him how I felt. I thought he might laugh at me. Besides, nothing had happened and I could not imagine, except in my most lurid and desperate fantasies, that anything would. I lived with my obsession on my own. So I told him, yes, I was interested, a lot of what she said was quite intriguing and - no, my mind was not closed, but I would not say I was totally convinced.

The miracle happened a few weeks later when Marda turned up unexpectedly at my door.
- I had to see someone just down the road, so I thought I would take you up on your invitation.
I was speechless. I must have stood there, staring at her with my mouth open, reflexes in shock, looking ridiculous.
- That is, if I'm not disturbing you.
The realisation that this mirage could fade just as quickly as it had appeared set off some kind of warning trigger that jolted through me like an electric shock. I jumped into action.
- No no, its wonderful, I mean its fine, it's good to see you, let me take your coat -
I almost dragged her into the livingroom and she resisted my attempts to take her coat.
- It's fine, it's fine, she said, waving me off.
- Coffee? I said, scared in case her refusal to take off her coat meant that she was not going to stay long.
- Jack, I hate to say this, but - you're a Virgo, surely you're aware that all that caffeine really isn't good for you. D'you have any herb tea?

My mind went into another frenzy of calculation. I had no herb tea, never drank the stuff. But what if that was all she wanted. What if she left because I did not have any herb tea. I had to act fast.
- No, I'm sorry I don't but look - I can pop out to the deli just down the road, it won't take a minute, make yourself at home, I won't be long.
I was half into my jacket already, but she stopped me.
- No, that's not necessary at all. Ordinary tea will do fine really -
She did not have to say any more. She was not going to go after all. And her hand was on my arm -

I rushed about in the kitchen, banging cups and teapot, which seemed to turn animate under my fingers, leading a life of their own. I wrestled with the packet of tea, after searching inside it anxiously, looking for signs of mould because it had been there a long time, so long I could not even remember when I had bought it. Fortunately it seemed to be mould-free, so I poured on the boiling water, took the things through to the livingroom and collapsed, exhausted, onto the sofa.

Marda had taken off her coat and it was lying on the floor. I stopped myself in time from jumping up again and hanging it up. She was standing by the fire, rolling a cigarette. Probably because I had seen Tomas the night before, I remembered that he was the connection between us and if it had not been for Tomas' sudden interest in astrology I would never have met Marda. As he had not mentioned her to me before I presumed he had only recently got to know her.
- How long have you known Tomas? I asked.
She looked at me and frowned slightly as she licked the cigarette paper.
- I have always known Tomas, she said.
This did not make sense to me. In every relationship there has to be some beginning, some meeting.
- You mean, you knew each other as children?
This seemed difficult to believe as Tomas was half Polish and I knew he had spent most of his childhood in France as his parents were refugees in the war and only came to this country when he was in his early teens.
- I've always known him, she repeated, lighting her cigarette.
I went to the kitchen and got a saucer for her to use as an ashtray. When I came back she changed the subject and Tomas was not mentioned again.

When I next saw Tomas I asked him the same question. I told him I had seen Marda and what her answer had been. He smiled when he heard that.
- I think she's right. We have always known each other. We recognised this as soon as we met.
- What do you mean? If you'd only just met how could you have always known each other?
- Well - if you believe in reincarnation, we've lived many lives before and Marda and I both knew that we had known each other in past lives. So that when we met, it was like meeting up with an old friend.
I had to get up and pace around a bit. My world-view was crumbling again.
- I don't believe in reincarnation, I said finally. And before I could stop myself, 'there's no proof we've ever lived before.'

I actually felt very threatened by the whole idea. I felt it nibble at my sense of identity and I was hanging on to that.
- That's no problem, said Tomas, 'you're free to believe what you want.'
- But why?
A sense of frustration that had been building up in me almost imperceptibly for some time, now burst out.
- Why are you embracing all these weird beliefs all of a sudden? You never used to believe in astrology and past lives, you're like a different person, has someone been trying to brainwash you or something? I feel as if I hardly know you any more.
All my old fears about cults trying to take over people's minds were resurfacing. But Tomas only laughed.
- There's nobody brainwashing me. I've been open to these ideas for a long time. But being open to them doesn't mean embracing them. I don't know if there will ever be proof of reincarnation, at least the kind of proof that most scientists look for. I think we have to pay more attention to our subjective feelings and intuitions. And going by them, I've come to feel that reincarnation seems a very likely hypothesis.

Again, I had this feeling that Tomas was going in some direction that I could not follow and so I was being left behind. But this nagging sense of isolation soon went into the background as Marda became quite a frequent visitor. I got in a stock of herb teas, only to discover that she had a curious relationship with them.
- I despise health foods, she said. 'Only sometimes I suspect that they're actually good for you. And even quite pleasant.'
- Do you believe in reincarnation? I asked her the other night, after she had spilled the cup of tea.

She looked at me in surprise and came and sat down beside me. I had pushed the sofa back against the wall and was sitting on a cushion as Marda preferred sitting on the floor. She was very close to me and in a fit of courage I put my arm round her. She laid her head on my shoulder and I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest. I could not have cared less about reincarnation then, I just wanted her to stay right next to me. She laughed, a little like a gurgle.
- I don't think it matters what you believe really. Beliefs are things that we don't know for sure. They can be highly dangerous because they're based on ignorance. People do terrible things to each other, because of beliefs. But what's really important is what we know. If we know something for sure then we're not threatened by other people's beliefs and equally, we're not concerned with converting them to ours.'

My head was buzzing, there were lots of things I wanted to say to her, but her closeness was too much for me and I put my other arm round her and kissed her. I think I half-expected her to pull away from me. But she didn't. I hardly had time to register my amazement when the doorbell rang. It was like one of those dreams where you arrive at where you've been trying to reach, overcoming all kinds of frustrating obstacles and delays, only to find that there's something vital you had forgotten to do and you have to leave again.
I kissed her hair, her eyes, the top of her nose. The bell rang again.
- Perhaps you'd better answer it, she said.

It went against all my instincts, but I did. When I opened the door, Tomas was standing there. I could not have turned him away even if I had been quick enough to think up some excuse, for he walked straight in, as he usually does. His 'Hi Jack, how are you?' floated through the hall as I closed the door.

By the time I got to the livingroom I was just in time to see Tomas go over to Marda, sit down beside her and give her a big hug. I went into the kitchen, to put on the kettle. When I came back, they were still in the same position and it was only then that a picture fell into place in my mind, as suddenly as an image flashing up on a screen and as abruptly as it takes a guillotine to drop.

It all became suddenly, horribly clear. Lots of loose ends I had not previously connected now fitted together as if drawn by a powerful magnet. Like the girl Tomas had mentioned months ago and then had never brought up in conversation again. The fact that Marda said she had always known Tomas. Tomas' conversion to the reincarnation theory. There was more than one way of brainwashing I thought bitterly and love is probably the most powerful one of all.

I went back into the kitchen, sat down at the table and gazed out of the window. I wanted to be alone. I did not want to be sociable, to pretend that we were just three friends who could enjoy being together. I could not play games, not now. I felt as exposed as the darkening night, open to anyone's view. So when I heard someone coming into the kitchen, I did not bother looking round. I just hoped they were understanding enough to leave me alone.

Marda came up behind me, put her hand on my neck. It was a light touch and not very steady.
- Why are you sitting through here? she asked.
- Because I feel like a compete idiot.
- I don't see why.
- Because I didn't realise that you and Tomas were - I didn't realise because I didn't want to think you might be - I thought you came round to see me, but I see now it's just because I'm Tomas's friend.
- That's not true. It's you I come to see.
I half turned round to face her, wanting to believe her, pulled like gravity by the light touch of her fingers.
- And you and Tomas? I asked
- We are very close friends. But that is all.
I took her hand and the nightmare dissolved slowly. With her other hand, she tugged my hair, pulling my head back.
- Look at me, she said.
- I've been doing that since I first met you, I said.
- Then don't stop now.

When I helped her move in, I had to carry all these boxes of books up two flights of stairs. Books on astrology, dreams, reincarnation and all kinds of weird esoteric subjects. I still cannot say that I really believe in it all, but that seems to matter less and less. It's certainly no longer threatening.

I even manage to ignore Marda's untidiness most of the time. Except when it comes to fresh air, I think I show an excessive amount of tolerance towards her indifference to cleanliness and order. I don't mind when the sink's clogged up with hairs and dirty dishes are scattered around the kitchen.

She says I'm doing very well. Except when I insist on having the window open, to clear the stale smell of cigarette smoke. Then she says I'm behaving like a typical Virgo. Which sounds like something negative. Surely I'd be expected to be typical of my sign. So it puzzles me. There's obviously some basic principle here I've still failed to grasp.