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“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.
“Turn the lamps off,” Madame instructed briskly. She smoothed her skirts and tugged her sleeves down almost officiously as she readied herself for the psychic demonstration.
“But I cannot see you then,” Harriett protested. She hated to admit that she was scared.
Madame flicked an arrogant gesture at Miss Hepplethwaite, who nervously fluttered off to retrieve several candles out of a large carpet bag, which she then placed at Madame’s feet.
