McKeown.’ Vi took the extended hand. ‘And these two’s Lucinda and Jane.’
‘Yes.’ Lilith nodded briefly. ‘I noticed them on the launch this morning.’
‘Well then, that’s fine, innit? Anythin’ else?’
‘No. Just wanted to say hi, and tell you about the message.’
‘Message? Who for?’
‘That’s just it. I’m not quite sure. It’s all a bit vague, you see. Look, when you’ve finished eating I think you’d better come up to cabin 10 and get it sorted out. In about five minutes – all right?’
It was not all right. Vi did not like mysteries. Nor did she like being summoned to the cabin next door, but Penrose was a leading Wren. ‘What about it?’ she asked.
‘Okay by me.’ Jane nodded.
‘Me too,’ said Lucinda.
‘Right, then. We’ll see you in five minutes.’
‘And what did you make of that?’ Lucinda demanded when they were alone. ‘A message for one of us but she’s not sure which. Peculiar, wouldn’t you say?’
Peculiar, they all agreed, but they knew they would go to cabin 10 none the less, for the deep, dark eyes held a mystery. And secrets.
The door of cabin 10 was stuck and Vi thumped it hard.
‘Hang on.’ Lilith Penrose removed the wedge that held it. ‘Glad you’ve come. Soon have it sorted out.’
Vi looked around her. The room was spacious, with two large windows and a cast-iron fireplace which was obviously used, for log baskets stood either side of it and an airer hung with bell-bottomed trousers and thick navy-blue sweaters swung above it. But it was the table in the centre of the room that aroused Vi’s curiosity because it belonged, she’d have sworn, on the landing outside. She was certain, in fact, because only that morning she had dusted and polished it. Shrugging, she gazed pointedly at two Wrens she had not met before.
‘Sorry,’ Lilith smiled. ‘Meet Constance Dean and Fiona Cole – Connie and Fenny – my deck hand and stoker.’
Vi nodded briefly. ‘What’s this message, then?’ Her gaze had returned to the circular table, and she was uneasy.
‘The message?’ Lilith closed the door and slid back the wedge. ‘You must try to understand that it isn’t a message, as such. It just came to me and I knew it must be for one of you.’
‘Came to you?’ Now Lucinda had noticed the table. She had seen one like it before – well, almost like it. Letters and numbers set at random around its perimeter and an upended wine glass in the centre. A planchette, they had called it at school. It had started as a game but had taken over their lives, almost. They’d been in terrible trouble when Matron discovered their secret, and each of them had promised never to do anything so wicked again.
‘Came to me,’ Lilith asserted calmly. ‘I get messages all the time.’
‘From the planchette?’ Lucinda’s eyes were fixed on the glass.
‘That’s not what it’s called and the message has nothing to do with – that.’
‘It’s a ouija board, innit?’ Vi had heard about such things. Mention a ouija board at Confession and it would be three Hail Marys and an extra Mass from Father O’Flaherty, soon as look at you it would.
‘It’s nothing to do with ouija, either. That,’ Lilith nodded towards the table, ‘is my own thing. If you believe, it will tell you what you want to know. It’s a part of my religion, of the old religion.’
‘It flamin’ isn’t, and I should know,’ Vi countered. ‘I’m a Catholic.’
‘The old religion, Vi, has been with us as long as time and has nothing to do with the Church of Rome. My mentor is the earth mother and my conscience is ruled by karma.’
‘And what’s karma, when it’s at home?’ demanded Vi, who knew that consciences were ruled by parish priests.
‘It’s a Buddhist belief,’ Lucinda whispered. ‘Sort of take what you want – and pay. I’m right, aren’t I, Lilith?’
‘Vaguely. But karma isn’t entirely Buddhist dogma. Everyone pays, or is rewarded eventually, usually in another life on earth.’
‘Sorry.’ Vi had heard enough. ‘We’ve changed our minds.’ She was having nothing more to do with such heathen talk, message or no message. ‘Come on, you two.’ Pushing away the wedge she opened the door with a flourish and, part relieved, part disappointed, Jane and Lucinda followed her. ‘Sorry,’ Vi said again over her shoulder.
‘So am I,’ Lilith spoke quietly. ‘Because I was just about to wish you a happy birthday.’
‘You what?’ Vi flung round to face her. ‘Who said it was my birthday? Who told you?’
‘The message told me, Vi. I had a feeling it was for you.’
‘Message my foot! You’ve seen my record sheet, haven’t you?’ It was the only way she could have known, unless Mary had phoned. But Mary wouldn’t know where to phone until tomorrow when she got the letter. ‘Haven’t you?’
‘All record sheets are confidential, kept locked in Patsy Pill’s office; you should know that. No one sees them but her and Ma’am.’
‘Then how did you find out?’
‘I don’t know. I never ask. He just said, “Happy twenty-sixth birthday, girl.”’
‘He said?’
‘It seemed like a message from a man.’
‘Girl, did he say? You’re sure it was girl?’
‘Quite sure. Does it mean something?’
‘It means nothin’. Nothin’ at all.’ Vi tilted her head defiantly. ‘Come on, you two. We’re not soddin’ about no more with rubbish like that!’
She closed the door with a firmness she did not feel then sank gratefully on to her bed, dry-mouthed and suddenly cold.
‘Vi!’ Jane gasped. ‘You’re as white as a sheet and you’re shaking. Get her some water, Lucinda.’
‘I’m all right, honest I am.’
‘No you’re not.’ Lucinda offered the glass. ‘And it is your birthday, isn’t it?’
‘What if it is? There’s dozens of ways she could have known.’
‘There aren’t, Vi.’
‘She guessed, then.’
‘I don’t think she did, but happy
