Fogging Over by Annie Dalton Read Free Book Online Page B

lacy doodads on it, and there was another bigger lacy doodad draped over the back of an armchair. There was a bowl of artificial fruit under a glass dome, plus there were real ferns inside a big glass bottle. And I haven’t even got round to the footstools or the embroidered fire screen, the ornamental photograph frames or the potted aspidistras!
    Having checked that her spirit FX equipment was in working order, Charlotte carefully dragged the heavy curtains across the window, plunging the parlour into artificial twilight. A few minutes later Ivy showed a middle-aged couple into the parlour. I noticed that Charlotte greeted them in a hushed tone quite unlike her normal voice. “Mr and Mrs Bennet, please do take a seat. Miss Temple will be with you shortly.”
    “Hope she doesn’t cough,” Brice said under his breath. “A coughing medium’s assistant wouldn’t be nearly so ethereal.”
    I’d expected Minerva Temple to be got up like a fortune teller with tinkling beads, but when she came in she was dressed extremely tastefully in a plain black gown and a pretty lace cap trimmed with ribbons. Her voice was low and thrilling. She’d have made an excellent stage hypnotist, which I suppose she kind of was in a way.
    Minerva quickly set about lulling her victims into a receptive state, reassuring the couple that their daughter was now happy in the fields of Eternal Summer. Mrs Bennet gasped but her husband just fiddled with his collar, looking extremely uncomfortable.
    Everyone held hands around the table and Minerva went into a trance. At least she did some bizarre writhing and heavy breathing, which apparently meant the spirits were trying to get through.
    Minerva had obviously coached Charlotte to produce ‘psychic phenomena’ on cue. So when her employer cried dramatically, “The veil between the worlds is growing thin!” Georgie’s sister pulled a secret handle, releasing a blast of cold air from the cellar, to give the impression that spirits were wafting in from the next world.
    Of course, typical Melanie - when I suggested gatecrashing these people’s seance, I hadn’t actually thought it through. I just wanted to tell my mates I’d been to a bona fide Victorian seance. But I began to feel terribly sorry for those grieving parents. The woman was clearly desperate for reassurance that her daughter still survived, even if it was on the wrong side of the ‘veil’, and I think the husband only came because of his wife.
    The worst moment was when this like, glowing green gloop started oozing out of Minerva. It flowed out of her mouth and nose, even her ears, and collected in a puddle on the table.
    The husband instantly reached out to touch it.
    “Don’t!” Charlotte said at once in a warning voice. “Ectoplasm is harmful to the living. The spirits send it only to reassure you of their existence.”
    “It’s actually cheesecloth and luminous paint,” Brice told us in a stage whisper. “She’ll make it disappear again in a sec. That way no-one can examine it too closely.”
    I was still queasy from the ectoplasm when I realised we were not alone. I’m serious - some real ghosts had turned up to Minerva’s seance!! They were kind of sepia-coloured and flickery, like figures in old movies. A few of the livelier spirits hovered over the table. The rest just hung around in the background looking depressed.
    I gave them a little wave. “Oh, hiya!” Then, “How come they’re here?” I hissed to Brice.
    “Who did you expect to come to a seance?” he muttered. “Living people?”
    It’s not just embarrassing watching someone conduct a phony seance with disapproving real-life spirits looking on, it’s totally excruciating . Also Mr Bennet was looking increasingly fidgety. Eventually he couldn’t contain himself, and cut right across Minerva’s gushy description of their daughter’s sunny personality. “You could be describing any young girl!” he objected.
    Minerva’s otherworldly expression