would be in it, right up to their ear-holes.
‘I thought you’d come,’ Lilith smiled, answering their knock. ‘It works better if you believe.’
‘Believe? Who said anythin’ about believin’?’ Vi demanded bluntly, wanting things straight, right from the start. ‘You know the way it is with me. I’m not messin’ about with no glasses. All I’ve come for is to see fair play.’
‘Then that’s a great pity, Vi, because you’re a true medium, I’m sure of it.’
‘Yer wot? Me? I’m a good Cath’lic, that’s what I am.’
‘And a natural medium in spite of it. But not to worry, we’re going to get somewhere tonight, so let’s make a start, shall we?’
‘Not me. I’m going into Craigiebur.’ To emphasize her words, Connie Dean pulled on her hat.
‘With him?’
‘Yes, Lilith. With him. Again.’
‘Then you’re a fool. When will you get it into your head he’s no good for you? How many times must I say it before it sinks in?’
‘Johnny loves me!’ Connie’s cheeks flamed. ‘And I told him you said he was married and he says it isn’t true.’
‘Then he won’t mind letting you look at his paybook, will he? Paybooks don’t lie.’
‘Oh, shut up, Penrose! You’re bad-minded. You might be boss of the launch, but what I do in my own time is none of your bloody business!’
The door slammed. Angry feet slapped against the stone stairs.
‘Silly little fool. And you can’t blame the men, not entirely. Away from their wives, and girls like Connie handing it out on a plate.’ Shrugging, Lilith slid home the door wedge. ‘But I’m right, I know it. She’ll find out too late, but that’ll be her funeral.’
‘Right about what?’ Vi demanded.
‘That Connie Dean’s going to land herself in big trouble if she doesn’t finish with that man. Apart from being married, he’s got a nasty reputation where the Wrens in this flotilla are concerned. But Connie’s a good-time girl. That’s all she joined up for. Men, and to get away from her parents.’
‘This feller – a submariner, is he?’
‘No, he’s on one of the escort frigates. Johnny Jones. There’s quite a few fancy their chances around here, and I know about them all; but our Johnny’s a real lecher, so be warned.’ Picking up the glass, she began to polish it slowly and carefully, breathing deeply until her anger was gone. Then, smiling, she asked, ‘Sure you won’t join us, Vi?’
Settling herself on the window seat, Vi shook her head. ‘No. Ta, all the same.’
‘Right, then.’ Lilith returned the glass, rim down, to the centre of the table. ‘Pull up your chairs and let’s make a start. Fenny next to me, please.’
‘Will it tell us,’ Jane asked uneasily, ‘or must we ask it?’
‘We’ll see if there are any messages first. If not, we’ll try a question. Now, put your index finger very lightly on the glass, left finger if you’re left-handed. Gently,’ Lilith breathed. ‘Think of the person you want to contact.’
‘Dead or alive?’ Lucinda wasn’t sure.
‘Either, though those who have passed on make better contacts. Concentrate, now. Clear your mind of all negative thoughts and believe. Believe in it with all your heart. Charge it with positive vibrations.’
‘How will we know who the message is for?’ Jane’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes large.
‘The glass will move to the letters and spell out the words, and whoever the message is for will recognize it. Concentrate. Think of your contact. Think hard.’
Jane closed her eyes and made her mind a blank; Lucinda sighed tremulously, and from her seat in the window Vi coughed nervously, yet the glass remained stubbornly still.
‘No messages tonight.’ Lilith removed her finger. ‘We’ll have to ask it. Anyone got a question?’
‘Me! Well – if it’s all right, that is. I don’t know what to do, though.’ Excitement churned inside her and every small pulse in Jane’s body beat dully. Not that anything would happen. It was just an ordinary glass on an ordinary table. Of course it wouldn’t work, but she must try. She must try everything.
‘Take the glass – carefully,’ Lilith warned. ‘Hold it in your hands. Make contact. Talk into it. Believe in it.’
Dry-mouthed, Jane cupped the glass in her palms, lifting it until her lips were level with its rim and her breath filled it.
‘Glass, beautiful glass, what has happened to Rob? If you know, please tell me. And if you can’t tell me, please give me a sign. Please.’ She raised her eyes to Lilith’s.
‘That’s right, Jane. Put it back on the table and everybody try again.’
Four fingers made contact and the glass became a part of them, a living, shining thing. Slowly, it slid across the table.
‘Oh, my God!’ Lucinda gasped.
The glass moved more smoothly, more quickly, then came to rest at the figure zero. Then, without pausing, it moved anti-clockwise around the table, circling the letters again and again, stopping nowhere.
‘It’s charged,’ Lilith breathed, ‘but it isn’t enough. Vi, we need you, too.’
‘Please,’ Jane begged. ‘For me.’
Vi crossed over to the table. Maybe just this once. And she did owe Lilith something for the birthday message.
‘All right, then.’ She closed her mind against Father O’Flaherty’s disapproval. ‘But only for you, Jane.’
Five fingers reached out and the glass began to move again, surer, stronger. S-E-V-E-N. It came to rest precisely beside each letter before coming to a halt in the centre of the table.
‘Well, Jane?’ Lilith asked, nose wrinkled. ‘Does seven mean anything?’
‘It does, oh, it does! Only Rob could have known seven.’ Tears shone in her eyes then spilled down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Lilith …’
‘Now look what you’ve gone and done!’ Vi was on her feet in an instant. ‘You’ve made her cry with your messin’ about. There, now, queen.’ Her arm encircled the shaking shoulders protectively. ‘It’s all right. Dry your eyes, pet. We’re not doin’ it no more.’
‘But Vi, I’m not upset. I’m not crying, not really.’ Jane raised her face, eyes blissfully bright. ‘It’s all right. The message was from Rob. It was.’
‘Good,’ Lilith sighed. ‘Anyone else got a question?’ She challenged Vi with her eyes, demanding she should stay at the table. ‘What about
