Harriett (The Tipton Hollow 1)

“Well, let me be the first to congratulate you both,” Mr Bentwhistle offered and held his hand out to Mark, who took it with alacrity.

“Thank you.”

“When? What happened?”

“Shall we postpone this and do it another time?”

The flurry of suggestions and questions was abruptly cut off by the loud objection from Madame Humphries.

“The spirits are here. They are anxious to pass their messages on. Once they have done it, they will leave us for a while so we can pass on our congratulations to the happy couple, but they ask if they can first put forward their messages. They have worked hard to come to us tonight. There is a lot of tension in the air that has made things difficult for them.”

“We did ask them here,” Constance sighed hesitantly after several moments of uncomfortable silence. She would rather discuss the forthcoming nuptials with the happy couple but, given that she was now in Beatrice’s sitting room with a medium she had, well, sort of invited, she couldn’t actually change her mind. Still, she was glad that she had agreed to take part so soon after poor Hugo’s death though. If she hadn’t been in attendance tonight, she would have missed the best news the village had received in a long time.

Amid much grumbled reluctance, everyone dutifully placed their fingers on the glass and waited. Within seconds it began to move again.

T-H-E-B-L-A-C-K-S-H-O-E-S-W-E-R-E-T-H-E- B-E-S-T-B-E-T-T-Y.

“Oh, dear me, no,” Betty Haversham gasped and stared at the glass as though it were a cobra about to reach up and strike her. “How did you know that?” She demanded from nobody in particular.

“What? Have you purchased a new pair of shoes?”

Miss Haversham shook her head slowly and snapped out of her stunned disbelief with a heavy shake. “I changed my shoes three times before I left the house tonight. I had a brown pair and a black pair. Before I left the house, I changed into my black pair at the last moment because I couldn’t make my mind up which ones matched my dress the best.” Her voice tailed off to a whisper as, like everyone else there, she tried to make sense of what happened and couldn’t.

“What relevance does that have to anything?” Mr Bentwhistle was the only one present who seemed unperturbed by the personal nature of the message. “It’s all very well and good, but how does that affect the rest of us?”

“They are giving us proof that they have been around us this evening and know things about us that nobod

y else could possibly know,” Madame Humphries replied patiently. “Please, spirit friends, bring us your messages.”

T-H-E-R-E-W-I-L-L-B-E-A-C-H-R-I-S-T-M-A-S-W-E-D-D-I-N-G.

“Well, we know that,” Babette scoffed and shot a knowing look at Harriett and Mark.

Mark smothered a smile and slid a glance at Harriett, who looked as shocked as she was amazed. He knew what he needed to know now, and could quite happily have called a halt to the evening and walked Harriett home. As it was, he knew with absolute certainty that it was possible for anyone to push the glass and give a warning, a threat, or, as he had done, a promise, and nobody was any the wiser. He would be a week’s salary that the only spirits present at the séances were the ones in the drinks they consumed throughout the evening.

“Can I ask them a question?” Mark took the opportunity to speak when there appeared to be a small pause in the messages.

“Of course. What do you want to ask them?” Madame Humphries asked kindly.

“I want to know what kind of danger Harriett is in? Is she going to be poisoned, run over, what? Can they be a bit more specific?”

The glass hovered in the centre of the table. “Well, let’s ask them,” Madame sighed and threw her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Please my friends,” she bellowed, as though shouting would get their questions more clarity. “Answer our calling. Tell us what we wish to know dear departed ones.”

Mark smothered a smirk and wondered what she would do if spirit began to shout back. Sure enough, someone at the table clearly thought the same.

D-O-N-T-S-H-O-U-T-D-E-A-R-W-E-A-R-E-N-O-T-D-E-A-F.

Titters of laughter rippled around the table but did little to lighten the atmosphere, which continued to remain nervous. After a slight pause, the glass began to move in slow circles that grew larger and larger until it drew to a stop in front of the letter ‘L’ momentarily before it moved on.

L-O-O-K-L-E-F-T-A-N-D-R-I-G-H-T-T-H-E-T-R-U-T-H-W-I-L-L-C-O-M-E-A-B-O-U-T.

“Here we go again,” Alan Bentwhistle sighed. “More nonsense.”

“I think that may mean that you have to look both ways when you cross the road,” Tuppence sighed with a shake of her head. “I think this is utter nonsense.” She glanced at the clairvoyant with no apology in her eyes. “No offense intended Madame Humphries, but I do think that this is stuff and nonsense. If they really wanted to warn us of anything then they should give us something that we can used to ensure Harriett is safe. As it is, none of this makes sense to me and I, for one, am not prepared to continue.” With a mulish look on her face, she crossed her arms and sat back in her seat with her arms folded.

As if in agreement, Beatrice did the same.

“Stick with it children. There are more and more spirits stepping forward now. I am sure that the messages will be coming thick and fast soon,” Madame Humphries argued.