“Can we get on with this please?” Madame Humphries snapped impatiently. “The spirits are waiting.”
With a collective sigh of relief and nervousness, everyone turned their attention back to the table.
CHAPTER TWO
As soon as everyone had settled down again, Madame Humphries called for another message.
The glass began to move.
P-E-T-E-Y-S-A-Y-S-E-L-L-O.
Babette spelled the words out. “Shouldn’t there be an ‘H’ in there?”
“Does it really matter?” Madame Humphries snapped impatiently. “They are giving us messages. I don’t think they are all that bothered about spelling and punctuation.”
Harriett shared an amused look with Mr Montague. Although the dapper little man was sometimes officious and tended to bumble around a lot, he really was a sweet gentleman who had a wicked sense of humour. At times, when he was in full flow, he was apt to come out with quips and innuendo that had Harriett clutching her sides with laughter. She smiled at Mr Montague’s rueful wink.
“Anybody understand a Petey?” He glanced around the table but everyone shook their heads and looked at each other blankly. “Nobody understands Petey. Is there another message for me?” Mr Montague whispered theatrically.
The glass hovered for a moment and began to move toward him. All trace of humour vanished from his rotund face, and was replaced with nervous expectation as the glass slowly made its way across the table before it circled around and moved toward the ‘No’.
Mr Montague heaved a sigh of relief, and Harriett smothered a nervous laugh, unsure if the sigh was really one of annoyance, relief or consternation.
H-I-S-I-N-D-A-N-G-E-R.
Babette read the message hesitantly, a dark frown on her face. “You would think they would be able to spell better than this,” she grumbled. “Who is HIS? Can you ask them for clarification?”
H-I-S-I-N-D-A-N-G-E-R.
The glass stopped, then began to move slowly around in a circle.
“What is it doing?” Tuppence cried. She had to stand up to be able to keep her finger on the glass as it spun around faster and faster.
“It’s spelling out the letters for us,” Miss Haversham gasped. “Keep a note of it, Babette, I will spell the letters to you.” She clearly relished the fact that they were getting somewhere after what seemed an indeterminable wai
t, and practically wriggled in her seat in eagerness.
“What does it say?”
“Keep it going!” Madame Humphries’ face was lit with excitement. Her assistant, Miss Hepplethwaite, didn’t look too convinced, but remained silent and merely stood up so she could keep her finger on the glass as it moved rapidly around the table. “Keep the energy flowing.”
“H!” Miss Haversham cried. “The first letter is H.”
“Who is H?” Miss Hepplethwaite demanded with an air of desperation.
Harriett glanced at the horror on the woman’s face and began to grow worried herself.
“Tell us, my friends, who is H?” Madame Humphries cried loudly. “Who is he?”
H-I-S-D-
The glass immediately shot toward Harriett and Mr Montague. Everyone watched as it flew past both of them and smashed into the wall behind.
The ladies screamed while the men uncharacteristically swore.
Silence settled over the room for several long moments. Everyone was stunned speechless, and more than a little shaken by what had just happened.
Harriett’s blank gaze met and held Mr Montague’s horrified stare. Nobody seemed to know what to do.