Conversations with Spirits by E. O. Higgins

Author:E. O. Higgins
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Ghosts
ISBN: 9781908717412
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2013-10-07T15:27:10+00:00

Tramping back down the cinder path, I went on slowly, struggling to make sense of my surroundings. The squat cottages that lined the left side of the track were of the kind that optimistic house-agents would refer to as ‘villas’. Their front faces—separated from the railway line only by the path and a small wooden fence—were made barely distinguishable from the night sky by a heavy layer of coal dust.

I wasn’t entirely able to recall the number of the house Beasant had asked me to present myself at, but this, it turned out, was not an issue. As I continued along the path, I soon heard a group of people talking animatedly outside one of the houses, and, as I drew closer, was able to perceive that one of them was Arthur Doyle.

“Anyone for a séance?” I shouted cheerfully from the darkness, making an elderly female member of the congregation jump and grab her chest.

As I drew closer to the group, Doyle’s eyes fixed upon me. He looked quite astonished—an expression which quickly become one of pique. Clearly, he was on the verge of rebuking me, when his mouth snapped shut and he remembered that he too had a role to play.

“Who are you?” he said lamely.

“I’m here for the séance.”

Doyle looked surprised by this. The elderly lady removed her hand from her chest and glowered at me.

“You had no business coming out from the dark like that!”

“Forgive me, madam, but there is no light—I had little choice in the matter.”

“Still, there was no reason for you to lift your voice.”

At this, an elderly man in an unbrushed—and evidently quite ancient—top hat stepped out of the shadows by her side, his eyes finding purchase on me.

“Yah,” he said, sucking his teeth in an unpleasant fashion. “You scared Mrs. Rawlins haff to death coming along like that…”

“Really?” I responded, with concern. “Surely, if then the lady’s constitution is so delicate that a voice calling from the darkness upsets her in this way, possibly attending a séance isn’t necessarily a good choice.”

“Mrs. Rawlins attends the séances regularly,” the old man replied defensively. “She feels no fear from the spirit-world. She will join it soon enough.”

The old man’s comment hung uncomfortably in the air for some moments. Though, in view of her age, his words were almost certainly true, considering Mrs. Rawlins was the only female in our company, no one knew quite how to respond without the possibility of insulting her.

“You both have my sincere apologies,” I said finally.

“We don’t need your apologies,” countered the old man. “I was just making a point, thas all. There’s enough noise in the world these days without you adding to it.”

“My name is Jules Unthank,” I said with a bow. “I hope you can forgive my exuberance—I have never been to a séance before.”

“Prendergast,” said the old man. “George Prendergast. Myself and Mrs. Rawlins are both regulars to this house.”

“Really? Is Beasant any good?”

“Any good?” Prendergast muttered contemptuously. “I tell you, I’ve been a member of spiritual circles for forty years, and he’s the best channeller I’ve ever seen.

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