some major ordeal.
Ivy let him into the house, putting her finger to her lips. “Your sister says she hopes you don’t mind waiting,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “But a client turned up, total stranger, he was. Just rang the bell, bold as you like. Says his name’s Smith.” She gave a disbelieving snort. “I said, ‘I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Temple won’t see you without an appointment, not if you was Prime Minister.’ But he comes out with this cock and bull story about his dead granny and how he needs the spirits to help his family find her will.”
She leaned closer. “I think he’s one of those wossnames, investigators, trying to catch her out. I said to her, ‘Madam, you don’t have to see him.’ But she says, ‘Ivy, my professional reputation is at stake!’”
Ivy noticed Georgie anxiously clutching his daisies and her eyes filled with pity. “Oh, bless,” she exclaimed softly. “And here’s me rabbiting like it’s just an ordinary day.”
She suddenly took in his bedraggled appearance. “Tell you what, ‘ow’d you like a nice wash, while you’re waiting?” she said briskly. “I’ll fry you some bacon and eggs and you have a little clean-up, how about that?”
Ivy seemed to know all about Georgie’s forthcoming ordeal whatever it was, and was reminding him, in the kindest possible way, that he should make himself more respectable.
“Let’s give the kid his privacy,” Brice suggested. “We can have fun with Minerva and her paranormal ‘wossname’ while we wait.”
Lollie shook her head. “One seance was more than enough, thanks,” she said with a shudder.
“Oh, come on. This one will be a blast,” he insisted.
“You’re a bit confident, aren’t you?” I said.
“I’m totally confident, and I’ll tell you why.” Brice paused for dramatic effect. “Minerva Temple heard us talking last night!”
We stared at him.
“I’m serious. She has a genuine psychic gift. You saw what happened yesterday. She’s a spirit magnet. They can’t keep away from her.”
“But that doesn’t make sense!” I objected. “If she’s for real, why go in for fake ectoplasm and funny voices?”
“Because the spirit world is unpredictable, and if you don’t give the punters what they want on a regular basis, they won’t pay up. Faking it is a safer bet.”
“Well, I don’t think we should get involved,” I said in my prissiest voice. “She’s conning vulnerable people. This investigator should just go ahead and expose her.”
“Maybe you should actually see what’s going on, before you make up your mind,” Brice suggested with an edge to his voice.
We argued for a bit, but I admit I was a tiny bit curious to see this mysterious Mr Smith myself, so I let myself be persuaded. We crept into the purple twilight of Minerva’s parlour. The bored ghosts were killing time playing a game of ghostly noughts and crosses. Not having pencil or paper, they were each taking it in turns to draw on the mirror with a spooky sepia finger.
Minerva, Georgie’s sister and the mysterious Mr Smith were all holding hands in hushed silence, waiting for the fake spirits to show.
After the usual heavy breathing, Minerva announced that Mr Smith’s dead grandmother was standing by her side. “She is showing me a beautiful brooch,” she said in her hypnotist’s voice. “A very old cameo brooch. She tells me she was very fond of it and sometimes used it to fasten her shawl.”
Mr Smith shook his head in mock amazement. “What are the chances of anyone guessing that an old lady would wear a shawl and a cameo brooch? Could you ask her if she ever owned a pair of spectacles?”
Brice’s instincts were right about this guy. Most paranormal investigators are genuinely after the truth, but this guy wasn’t one of them. He didn’t just want to expose Minerva and put her out of business. He wanted to destroy her, as a person.
He sat forward and I saw his eyes glitter in the twilight.
Ivy let him into the house, putting her finger to her lips. “Your sister says she hopes you don’t mind waiting,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “But a client turned up, total stranger, he was. Just rang the bell, bold as you like. Says his name’s Smith.” She gave a disbelieving snort. “I said, ‘I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Temple won’t see you without an appointment, not if you was Prime Minister.’ But he comes out with this cock and bull story about his dead granny and how he needs the spirits to help his family find her will.”
She leaned closer. “I think he’s one of those wossnames, investigators, trying to catch her out. I said to her, ‘Madam, you don’t have to see him.’ But she says, ‘Ivy, my professional reputation is at stake!’”
Ivy noticed Georgie anxiously clutching his daisies and her eyes filled with pity. “Oh, bless,” she exclaimed softly. “And here’s me rabbiting like it’s just an ordinary day.”
She suddenly took in his bedraggled appearance. “Tell you what, ‘ow’d you like a nice wash, while you’re waiting?” she said briskly. “I’ll fry you some bacon and eggs and you have a little clean-up, how about that?”
Ivy seemed to know all about Georgie’s forthcoming ordeal whatever it was, and was reminding him, in the kindest possible way, that he should make himself more respectable.
“Let’s give the kid his privacy,” Brice suggested. “We can have fun with Minerva and her paranormal ‘wossname’ while we wait.”
Lollie shook her head. “One seance was more than enough, thanks,” she said with a shudder.
“Oh, come on. This one will be a blast,” he insisted.
“You’re a bit confident, aren’t you?” I said.
“I’m totally confident, and I’ll tell you why.” Brice paused for dramatic effect. “Minerva Temple heard us talking last night!”
We stared at him.
“I’m serious. She has a genuine psychic gift. You saw what happened yesterday. She’s a spirit magnet. They can’t keep away from her.”
“But that doesn’t make sense!” I objected. “If she’s for real, why go in for fake ectoplasm and funny voices?”
“Because the spirit world is unpredictable, and if you don’t give the punters what they want on a regular basis, they won’t pay up. Faking it is a safer bet.”
“Well, I don’t think we should get involved,” I said in my prissiest voice. “She’s conning vulnerable people. This investigator should just go ahead and expose her.”
“Maybe you should actually see what’s going on, before you make up your mind,” Brice suggested with an edge to his voice.
We argued for a bit, but I admit I was a tiny bit curious to see this mysterious Mr Smith myself, so I let myself be persuaded. We crept into the purple twilight of Minerva’s parlour. The bored ghosts were killing time playing a game of ghostly noughts and crosses. Not having pencil or paper, they were each taking it in turns to draw on the mirror with a spooky sepia finger.
Minerva, Georgie’s sister and the mysterious Mr Smith were all holding hands in hushed silence, waiting for the fake spirits to show.
After the usual heavy breathing, Minerva announced that Mr Smith’s dead grandmother was standing by her side. “She is showing me a beautiful brooch,” she said in her hypnotist’s voice. “A very old cameo brooch. She tells me she was very fond of it and sometimes used it to fasten her shawl.”
Mr Smith shook his head in mock amazement. “What are the chances of anyone guessing that an old lady would wear a shawl and a cameo brooch? Could you ask her if she ever owned a pair of spectacles?”
Brice’s instincts were right about this guy. Most paranormal investigators are genuinely after the truth, but this guy wasn’t one of them. He didn’t just want to expose Minerva and put her out of business. He wanted to destroy her, as a person.
He sat forward and I saw his eyes glitter in the twilight.
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