Harriett (4 page)

“
Can you come forward for us again, my friends? We need you to
bring us your messages,” Madame Humphries continued to breathe
deeply and loudly.

Once
again, the glass began to move slowly around the table in a small
circle. The speed it moved was considerably slower than before but
nobody sought to question it. Silence descended as they waited to
see what it would do.

“
Bring us your message,” Madame urged, her voice laced with
impatience and glee. She was clearly revelling in the success of
the evening, while everyone else was filled with nervous dread. “Go
on, tell us,” she demanded.

The
glass began to move slowly.

H-I-S-H-I-S-H-I-S-H-I-S-H

“
Well, that’s clear,” Babette announced dryly and peered down
at the notepaper on the table before her. Even through the gloom
she could tell it was nothing but jibberish.

“
What does it say?” Beatrice demanded, too far away to read
what Babette had written.

“
His, over and over again apparently,” Babette replied,
peering down at her hastily scribbled words with a
frown.

“
It could say H-is again,” Mr Bentwhistle
suggested.

“
Who is H though? I mean, it could be any one of us,” Harriett
replied in disbelief. Not for the first time that evening, she
began to wonder if someone was playing pranks and the messages were
from one of the ladies who had a penchant for gossip. If it was, it
didn’t explain how the glass could have flown off the table so
rapidly, or why.

The
glass started to move again.

H-I-S-I-N-D-A-N-G-E-R.

“
Who is ‘H’, my friends?”

T-H-E-R-E-W-I-L-L-B-E-A-D-E-A-T-H.

Everyone
froze and stared down at the table.

Nobody
spoke. Nobody moved.

M-U-R-D-E-R-D-E-A-T-H.

“
Oh, good Lord.” Miss Haversham’s voice shook with
fear.

“
If this is someone’s idea of a joke, I don’t think it is
either appropriate or wise,” Miss Smethwick snapped. She snatched
her hand away from the glass and glared at everyone as she pushed
away from the table and moved to stand beside the fire. “I think we
need to stop this nonsense now and all have a drink. Maybe then we
can get some sense out of this evening.”

“
Here, here,” Mr Montague replied fervently and left the table
to warm his backside by the fire.

Constance gasped and they all turned back to the glass which
had started to move under the remaining fingers.

T-H-E-R-E-I-S-A-L-I-A-R-A-M-O-N-G-S-T-Y-O-U.

“
Who?” Harriett snapped. The small hairs on the back of her
neck began to rise again and she scowled down at the glass in
frustration. “Why won’t you tell us actual details?”

D-E-A-T-H.

A dull
thud drew all of their attention and Mrs Bobbington screamed as she
caught sight of Miss Hepplethwaite lying in a heap on the
floor.

“
Get her a glass of water,” Madame Humphries cried. She lunged
out of her chair, knelt down beside her friend and began to fan her
with the end of her scarf.

“
Is she alright?” Mr Bentwhistle demanded.

“
I don’t know. It is too dark to see in here. Can someone
light the gas lamps again please?”

“
I’ll do it,” Mr Montague’s rotund little frame scurried
across the room with a fist full of spills only to pause and return
to the fire to light one of them.

“
It’s probably the excitement of the evening,” Miss Haversham
snorted derisively. She appeared to be completely unconcerned by
the rather dramatic turn of events and cast the woman on the floor
a disparaging glance before she moved to a seat near to the
windows.

“
I’ll get some water,” Harriett offered. She made it to the
kitchen with unerring accuracy and poured a cup of water from the
jug on the dresser. With a shudder, and with no small measure of
relief, she returned to the parlour. She was just in time to watch
Miss Hepplethwaite take a seat beside the fireplace, assisted by
Babette and Madame Humphries. Harriett hurried forward and held out
the glass of water only for Babette to shake her head.

“
I think she needs something stronger, don’t you?” Her calm
gaze held Harriett’s for a moment. “I think we should stop now.
Harriett, would you sort refreshments out please?”

Harriett
hurriedly poured sherry and brandy from the decanters before she
headed back to the kitchen in search of the cakes she had brought
home from the tea shop. On the way, she took several moments to
light the lamps and candles around the house, only slightly
relieved to have each room cast in a more amiable light. Feeling
considerably more settled, she handed out cake and plates to their
guests and helped herself to a liberal dose of brandy.

“
What do we do now?” Mr Montague demanded when he had
sufficiently fortified himself with the alcohol. “I mean, I think
we should call it a night now. This has gone far
enough.”

“
We cannot stop now,” Madame Humphries objected, clearly
outraged at the notion. “There is the demonstration to perform
yet.”

“
I don’t think it is really a good idea -”

“
Nonsense,” Madame Humphries snapped. “We have started now.
The spirits have given us several messages. We have asked them to
come forward. It would be rude to just cut them off now, especially
now they have started to give us messages. We cannot just leave it
now, there may be more.”

“
But we don’t understand what we have already got,” Harriett
argued. “How can we ask them for more?”

“
I want to know if my mother is able to get in touch with a
message,” Mrs Bobbington declared mutinously. “That’s what I came
here for.”

“
I don’t mind either way,” Tuppence declared and deliberately
ignored her shaking hand as she took a sip of her sherry. “I mean,
we have come this far. What is there to lose?”

Our sanity
, Harriett almost snapped
but wisely kept quiet. She had experienced more than enough of the
charade for one night and didn’t relish it going any further. She
glanced at each person in turn and heaved a sigh when nobody made
their excuses to leave. They knew she couldn’t ask them all to go,
it would be the height of bad manners. The weight of expectancy
that hung over the room made it perfectly clear to everyone that
the circle was going to go ahead.

“
But Miss Hepplethwaite is not well. She needs to go home and
rest,” Harriett argued lamely, although it was apparent from the
rosy cheeks and the steady composure of the bird-like woman that
she had quickly recovered from her sporadic ailment.

“
Oh, I feel quite well now dear,” Miss Hepplethwaite replied
calmly. Her eyes met and held Harriett’s. The calm,
matter-of-factness in the woman’s gaze made Harriett wonder if it
had all been carefully orchestrated to bring the séance to an end.
She couldn’t blame the woman if she had had enough of the
shenanigans of the evening. However, Harriett couldn’t help but
wonder why the woman had feigned fainting in order to stop the
messages. Was she the one who had given them but had been unable to
provide any more information when pressed, so had decided to stop
everything?

“
I am relieved you have managed to recover so swiftly,”
Harriett replied and gave the older woman a pointed
look.

“
Yes, strange that,” Miss Haversham commented with a frown.
“If you have more in that decanter Hugo, top up my glass too would
you?” she suggested wryly and held her sherry glass
aloft.

CHAPTER THREE

“
I have
it!” Eloisa glanced apologetically at Mrs Bobbington, who yelped at
her sudden outburst.

“
Oh, heavens above Eloisa, don’t do that!” The woman gasped
and clutched a hand to her chest in alarm. She took a hefty gulp
from her brandy and rose to pour herself seconds, or was that
thirds?

“
Good Lord, Eloisa, have mercy,” Miss Haversham pleaded as she
brushed sherry off her skirts. “My dress is ruined now.”

“
Have what?” Babette demanded. She moved to the table to study
the notepaper Eloisa held aloft. “What is it?”

“
The message; I think I understand the message.” The hesitancy
in Eloisa’s eyes as she looked at the group was enough to make the
tension within the room rise several notches again.

“
H is in danger. It doesn’t say HIS, it says
H-IS-IN-DANGER.”

“
Well, really,” Miss Smethwick snapped. “Of all the ridiculous
things. If anyone has any issues to report to us, I suggest they do
so now rather than engaging in this ridiculous pretence.” Her small
black beady eyes swept scornfully over each person in the room
before they turned accusingly on Madame Humphries. “I should indeed
be relieved to learn that you don’t have anything to do with this
nonsense.” When Madame Humphries took a breath to respond, Miss
Smethwick continued. “I suggest that we all get a hold of
ourselves. There has been nothing coming through that glass that
any one of us couldn’t have known about beforehand. While I am not
prepared to engage in such silly ridiculousness as to push the
glass purposefully, I would strongly recommend that none of you
should be prepared to stoop so low either.”

“
The spirits have told us,” Madame Humphries argued. Her eyes
were fierce as they met and held Miss Smethwick’s.

“
What spirits? Who were they? They didn’t give us any
pertinent facts. All they have tried to do is scare us. Very good
for theatrics, but hardly practical or wise, now is it?”

Sensing
a heated argument brewing, Harriett began to replenish glasses, and
took the opportunity to stand before Madame Humphries and break
Miss Smethwick’s angry glare.

“
I agree with Miss Smethwick,” Harriett replied. She ignored
Babette’s warning look and glanced at each person in the room. She
shared knowing looks with Beatrice, Tuppence and Constance, and was
bolstered by the silent support in their eyes. “I think that we
have really had nothing to go on that we should take seriously. I
mean, if someone is playing a joke then it has worked because
everyone, including myself, are a little unnerved. However, there
has been nothing we can accept with any degree of confidence. H is
in danger could mean anyone, not least myself.”

“
Well, it doesn’t mean that it has to be you who is the one in
danger. I mean, there is Mrs Hepplethwaite,” Beatrice replied
reasonably.

“
Why would Gertrude be in danger?” Madame snapped and glared
flicked a dismissive glance at Beatrice.

“
My first name is Hugo,” Mr Montague added reasonably. “It
could mean me,” his voice held no hint of fear, merely mild
amusement.

“
There is also Miss Haversham, Harriett, Madame Humphries,
Eloisa Harris,” Mr Bentwhistle added softly. His soft brown eyes
were almost sad as he glanced at Miss Haversham and Hugo
Bentwhistle.

“
Who is to say that ‘H’ is anybody here? There are many people
with H in either their first name or surname in the village,” Mrs
Bobbington snapped. “I say that we carry on with the demonstration
and see what else we get. They could give us a name so we
understand who they mean.” She sighed impatiently and took a seat,
wriggling a little as though she was a mother hen settling on her
nest. She placed her small carpet bag on her lap and held on to the
handle, clearly prepared to wait for as long as need be for the
circle to begin.

Everybody turned to stare at Harriett, as though seeking her
approval, although it wasn’t entirely her decision. While house
actually belonged to Harriett; she shared it with her Aunt Babette
and Uncle Charles, who had taken over the family business and moved
in to raise Harriett when her parents had died.

“
Let’s carry on for a little while, if you feel strong enough
to continue Miss Hepplethwaite?” Babette sighed. She moved a chair
away from the table and placed it beside the hearth near to Mrs
Bobbington. “If we don’t get anything sensible within half an hour
then I think that we shall stop and call it a night.”

“
Excellent,” Mr Bentwhistle announced and drew a chair for
Miss Haversham,

With
varying degrees of enthusiasm, the assembled group arranged chairs
in a circle around the parlour and took their seats in the same
order in which they had sat at the table. The large table was
pushed back against the wall to allow them more room. Eventually
they were all arranged in a way that Madame Humphries was happy
with and silence settled around them.

“
Does anyone want their glasses replenishing before we start?”
Mr Bentwhistle asked in the process of topping up his own
sherry.

A chorus
of replies saw the decanter emptied. Harriett shared a rueful look
with Babette, who smiled and shook her head.

When we had arranged a meeting to get in touch with the
spirits, I hadn’t for one moment considered that it would be the
bottled variety
, Harriett mused wryly and
watched the last quart of the brandy disappear too. Her smile
vanished at Madame Humphries’ next words. Dread settled over her
and she fought to quell the surge of nerves that the woman’s demand
created.