Page 120 of When We Touch

He spoke in a child’s voice, and Mrs. Hennesy was in tears, speaking back, telling her beloved Billy how she missed him. Then, he fell silent. After a while, Arianna began to say softly that she was sorry, apparently Jeremiah was hearing from no more spirits.

But then, his head jerked, and his eyes rolled again.

“Mona!”

The voice this time was deep, raspy, and that of an old man.

“Dear, dear, Mona!”

Arianna involuntarily jerked her hand.

“Frank?” Maggie said hesitantly.

Then Jeremiah Heath’s head fell forward.

“I’m so, so sorry!” Arianna apologized, again, as if her lines were learned by rote, and she was already half dead herself. “There is only so long that such a state can be maintained. Jeremiah is exhausted, and has lost the connection. I’m certain, however, that your Frank can be reached again. Of course, you heard his voice. It’s certain you were loved, Mona. This must be very painful. Perhaps there would be no need for you to reach him again.”

“No, oh, no!” Maggie whispered. “No, please, Mr. Heath must allow me to see him again! He must.” Her voice was desperate, as well it should have been. There would be no way to get Arianna tonight, and yet, she would go mad if she wasn’t able to rescue the girl soon.

Jeremiah Heath opened his eyes and stared at Maggie. He slumped, as if he were truly in a state of exhaustion. “Water,” he whispered.

“Oh, dear, yes, of course, of course!” Mrs. Hennesy gasped, leaping up. Tears were still streaming down her face. Tears of gratitude, Maggie realized, and she was angry suddenly, so angry she could scarcely endure it. But she must. All of their lives depended on it. She had met with this man before, and she knew for certain what they faced.

Mrs. Hennesy raced back with the water. Jeremiah drank. “Mona, dear woman, did I fail you?” he asked.

“No, no . . . but . . . I’m ever so happy for the Hennesys. Their Billy stayed with us quite some time. But Frank . . . I didn’t have time to tell him . . . to say that I’m sorry, that I loved him so. Oh, please, please, Mr. Heath, you must agree to see me again!”

“My dear woman, you mustn’t be so distressed. Certainly, we can arrange to meet again in a few weeks’ time.”

“A few weeks’ time!” Her dismay was very real.

“I’m afraid, my lady, that I and my helpers must earn a living as well. This takes so much from me that . . . well, I have business affairs that I must manage as well.”

“No!” Maggie said, stricken.

“Dear lady, I understand that you are in financial straits as well, and that, I believe, you were in this area tonight looking for a home that was . . . affordable.”

“Please, please, put your affairs on hold. There’s a pension . . . I need only get to the bank. I can draw an advance, enough to get you and your people through the next month. I know that you don’t require that kind of payment, but I am so desperate. I cannot live if I cannot come to peace with the way that my dear husband died!”

He sighed and looked down. “I am gifted, madam. I hate to live off this kind of a gift. It is something that I should give away.”

“No one can live without an income,” Cecilia ventured.

“I am begging you, Jeremiah. Money is nothing—except a bed and food,” Maggie said. “Let me give you that in exchange for the peace of my soul.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Please, in the goodness of your heart!” Mireau said. “My poor auntie is impossible to live with, as it is now. She needs your help so desperately.” He indicated Cecilia, his “wife.” “We must all move on, and so, we all need your help.”

“All right, then. Think we can do it, dear?” he asked Arianna.

Listlessly, she shrugged. “If you wish, Father, of course.”

“Then it’s settled,” Jeremiah said.

“Ah, but we’re not, as yet,” Mireau reminded them.

“Oh, please! You’re welcome here again!” Mrs. Hennesy said. “Perhaps my dear Billy will have just a word to say again, too. George, that is all right with you, isn’t it?”