‘The clan begins to gather.’ Professor Borley rose to greet them. ‘What can I get you?’ He appeared to have taken permanent charge of Gemma’s bar.
Betty Alvin nodded to them warily; there seemed to be something defensive in the way she was clutching her glass. Either she did not entirely approve of the proceedings, or the black-clad young man hovering near her was making her uneasy. He did look rather sinister, all in black relieved only by a glittering pendant on a gold chain around his neck.
The doorbell rang and the young man jumped visibly, his thin wiry body quivering. Highly strung, or possibly suffering a form of stage fright? It must be daunting to step down from the shelter of a proscenium arch into a parlour where one was too closely surrounded by the audience.
‘There are the others. Good.’ Gemma started for the door. ‘As soon as we’re all settled with drinks, we can begin.’
The young man quivered again. He did not look happy. Lorinda wondered if Gemma was paying him anything, or had lured him with the promise of future publicity – if she could persuade the current staff of her ex-magazine to agree.
The others returned, Gemma and Macho still exchanging pleasantries, Cressie following them sullenly. Another one who was not happy at the turn of events and who, if she had really drunk all of that bottle of vodka Macho had seen her with, was probably still hungover.
That didn’t stop her from accepting another glass of it, however. She stared resentfully around the room, her gaze finally coming to rest on the young man. That made him quiver, too.
‘My dears, allow me to present – ’ Gemma waved him forward, he moved reluctantly – ‘Jeffrey Redmoor, Magician and Hypnotist Extraordinaire!’
He sketched a bow and managed to look interested as Gemma reeled off their names before concluding, ‘Now then – ’
The doorbell rang.
‘But …’ Gemma looked towards the entrance hall, disconcerted. ‘But we’re all here.’
The doorbell gave another sharp imperious summons.
‘I suppose I must …’ Gemma looked around uncertainly before going to answer it.
‘Gemma, my dear, I hope we’re not late.’ Dorian’s voice preceded him into the room. ‘You must forgive me, but your message on my answering machine was so garbled I had difficulty interpreting it.’ He entered, nodding affably to everyone.
‘Oh … well …’ Gemma could barely speak. His effrontery took her breath away. ‘I … um …’ There had been no message and everyone knew it.
‘I made Dorian bring me.’ Adele Desparta pushed past them. ‘I know we’re gate-crashing – and I don’t care! As soon as I heard what was happening here, I had to come.’ She fixed her gaze unerringly on the unfortunate Jeffrey Redmoor, who was looking less extraordinaire by the moment.
‘I insist that you hypnotize me, too! I have nothing to hide – and I want to prove it. I can’t go on like this!’
‘I’ve tried to tell her.’ Dorian shrugged. ‘She’s confusing hypnotism with a lie detector test.’
‘I’ll take that, too, if I must. I’ll do anything to clear my name!’
‘Can you do that?’ Cressie’s interest was caught, her eyes gleamed at Jeffrey Redmoor. ‘Can you hypnotize more than one person at a time?’
‘Oh, yes. On the cruise ships, I often had to deal with ten or more volunteers at a time. They’d mob the stage and wouldn’t let me get away with choosing just one or two. They all wanted to be in the act.’ His eyes were haunted, his quivering had settled down to a steady tremor. Lorinda began to wonder whether he were not so much ‘resting’ as recovering from a nervous breakdown.
‘It isn’t advisable, you know. So many.’ He gave a reminiscent shudder. ‘And when they’ve been drinking, they all think they’re comedians. Sometimes you can’t tell whether you’ve genuinely put them under or not. And that’s important, when you come to bring them out of the trance. No, no, one at a time is much better.’
‘I’m willing to take my turn,’ Adèle said. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
‘Oh, but …’ Swamped by a stronger personality, Gemma was floundering again. ‘I’m not sure … That is … if Jeffrey doesn’t mind …? He only expected me.’
‘I’ll make it worth your while.’ Adèle spoke directly to Jeffrey. He nodded, but did not seem any happier.
‘Oh, well …’ Gemma was also unhappy and nervous. ‘What do we do now then? Sit in a circle and hold hands?’
‘Not unless you want the victims to join us.’ Dorian did not bother to conceal his amusement. ‘That’s the drill for a seance.’
‘Oh, well, I don’t know …’ Flustered, Gemma looked around helplessly. ‘I thought … I mean, I’d heard something about circles …’
‘Just sit down and make yourself comfortable.’ Jeffrey Redmoor spoke with sudden authority, assuming his professional persona. ‘All of you.’
There was a general shuffling about for chairs. Macho and Cressie bagged the ones nearest to the armchair Jeffrey was settling Gemma into. Adèle pulled a chair closer on the other side. They didn’t intend to miss anything.
‘Anyone for a refill before this starts?’ Professor Borley was remaining by the bar. No one bothered to answer him. Suddenly, the occasion had gone beyond the social.
In the expectant silence, tension eddied through the room and into the farthest corners of the flat. Even the dogs seemed to sense it. Muffled yelps sounded on the far side of the door leading from the kitchen into the back hall.
Jeffrey Redmoor leaned over Gemma and began speaking softly. Macho and Adèle leaned forward, so did Cressie.
Betty Alvin watched intently as Redmoor removed the chain and pendant from around his neck. He swung the pendant slowly in front of Gemma’s face. Her eyes followed it.
Lorinda blinked and looked away to find Freddie also blinking. They grimaced slightly at each other and settled farther back in their chairs, distancing themselves.
Dorian got up and sauntered over to join Professor Borley at the bar. He stood there observing the scene as though it were a private performance being staged for his own personal entertainment and casually refilled his glass.
‘Oh!’ The clink of glass against bottle distracted Gemma, her eyes, which had been closing, flew open. ‘Oh, do help yourselves. I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry …’
‘It’s all right.’ Redmoor gently cradled her cheek with one hand, turning her face away from the others and back to him. ‘You’re doing fine.’ It would take more than Dorian wandering around the room to unsettle him, he had encountered far worse with the drunken revellers on the cruise ships.
‘Just let yourself relax … it’s all right to feel sleepy …’ He droned on, voice deliberately soothing and expressionless.
‘Yes … yes. I’m sorry … I’ll pay attention …’
‘You don’t need to pay attention. You need to relax … you’re so tired. Take a deep breath … and another … and yawn. Think how nice it would be to fall asleep right now … no one would mind. You’re among friends …’
‘Yes … friends.’ Gemma yawned. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’
‘No need to apologize … no one minds. You can yawn all you like …’
Gemma yawned again. Macho yawned, too. Lorinda tightened her own jaw muscles in an effort to resist the contagion. Even Freddie succumbed, although with another rueful grimace.
After that, everything seemed to go on for an inordinate length of time. Time enough for Dorian to snag another drink, and for Professor Borley to tiptoe lumberously amongst them, refreshing their own drinks. Time enough for boredom to begin to set in. She had to resist a strong temptation to turn to Freddie and start a conversation.
When Redmoor finally straightened up, she would not have been surprised had he admitted defeat and called for a drink. Instead, he gave a faint nod of satisfaction, as at a job well done.
‘Now we can begin,’ he said.
‘Aren’t you going to stick a pin in her first?’ Cressie demanded, watching
Gemma’s blank face avidly.
‘Why would I want to do that?’ Redmoor looked at her with distaste.
‘To make sure she’s really in a trance, of course.’ The look Cressie gave him doubted his ability, his credentials and perhaps even his antecedents.
‘I can assure you she is.’ He gave Cressie a Heaven deliver me from amateurs look and turned away, dismissing her. He bent over Gemma again, murmuring softly.
‘Now … you are back there … in that time you must remember …’ He raised his voice to encompass his audience. ‘Open your eyes and tell me what you see.’
‘Conqueror – no!’ Gemma shrieked, her eyes wide open and staring into space. ‘Lionheart – stop! Bad dogs! Bad dogs! Stop!’
In the distance, the pugs began barking wildly, hurling themselves against the closed door.
‘No … no …’ Redmoor slid a hand across Gemma’s forehead and eyes. ‘Go back to sleep. It’s all right … all right …’
Gemma’s eyes closed, her breathing quietened.
‘Sorry,’ he apologized, turning to the others. ‘I haven’t tried this sort of regression before. One can never be sure how the subject will react.’
‘A little less emotion is called for, I think,’ Professor Borley suggested helpfully.
‘Yes, yes, that’s right.’ The nervous quiver had returned. Redmoor no longer seemed so completely in control of the situation, but he turned back to Gemma.
‘You are calm … you are tranquil …’ he intoned. ‘It is all in the past. You are looking back from a great distance. You can see it all … but it no longer upsets you. You are above it all … you can talk about it. You are there … but not physically. Now … open your eyes again … Look around … and tell us what you were seeing on that unhappy night … what you were thinking …’
‘Unhappy, yes …’ Gemma sighed, but was otherwise calm. ‘So dark and rainy … cold … What is that child doing out so late on a night like this? No, Conqueror, we’re not going that way tonight … We want to get back – ’
‘I don’t like these people.’ Another voice cut across hers. ‘I don’t like the look of them. What are we doing in this place? Is this what you meant by “a bit of rough”?’
‘Great Lord! He’s overshot his mark!’ Dorian began to laugh into the stunned silence. ‘The idiot has put Macho under, too!’
‘Let’s think of some good questions to ask!’ Freddie snorted. Betty Alvin giggled nervously.
‘Quiet, please, quiet!’ Redmoor pleaded desperately. ‘You mustn’t startle them … wake them at this stage. It might be dangerous.’
‘Why did he go under and not me?’ Adèle was aggrieved. ‘I was the one who wanted to be hypnotized!’
‘Please … please …’
‘As an informed guess, I’d say Macho is a lot more suggestible than you are.’ Dorian was still chuckling.
‘Please … this is not a joke. The consequences to them could be serious.’
‘There’s a car coming along behind us,’ Gemma said. ‘I can hear it, but not see it. Its headlights are too dim. And it doesn’t sound roadworthy. All those rattling noises. I’m sure it’s not safe …’
A rattly car, barely roadworthy. Lorinda could not resist a sideways glance at Betty Alvin, who seemed no longer disposed to giggle.
‘Don’t think I don’t recognize that smell in the air …’ Macho sounded cross, he spoke with more animation than Gemma. Perhaps that instruction about calm had been so directed at her that it had bypassed him. ‘I used to be a schoolteacher, you know. It’s not unknown to me. Is that why you’ve brought us here? To pick up a fresh supply of whatever drug you use?’
‘Shut up, you fool!’ Cressie snapped.
‘Doggies, doggies, why are you so restless tonight? The sooner I get you home the better. I don’t know what’s got into you both tonight.’
‘That man over there, the one who looks like a bouncer.’ Macho lifted his head and looked into the distance. ‘I think he’s waving at you. Do you know him?’
‘Shut up! Shut up!’ Cressie lurched forward, hand raised to strike. Adèle caught her arm and pushed her back into her seat.
‘He may be suggestible, but he doesn’t like orders,’ Abby Borley observed. ‘I can’t say I blame him.’
‘Silence! I insist!’ Redmoor had found his authority again. ‘If not, I clear the room! All of you – out!’
That startled them into the silence he required.
‘You can’t – ’ Cressie began.
‘I can – and I will! The safety of my subjects is of paramount importance! I will not have it endangered!’
‘He’s right,’ Abby Borley said. ‘I think we’d better do as he says. He’s the man who knows.’
‘Leave? Now? But we’ve just arrived,’ Macho protested. ‘Oh … is it because that man in the corner is shaking his fist at you? He seems to know you … he doesn’t seem to like you.’
‘Shut your mouth, damn you!’ Cressie snarled. She made another lunge towards him, but Adèle was ready. Cressie found herself hurled back into her seat. Adele moved forward and stood over her, blocking any further moves.
‘No, Lionheart, no!’ Gemma said. ‘You’ve investigated that lamp post quite long enough. Now do what you must and hurry up about it. I want to get home and – Oh! Oh, no! No …’
‘No!’ Macho said. ‘No! What’s going on here? He’s coming this way – the bouncer and another yob are with him. Are those guns? No … perhaps not … they seem to be pipes and a crowbar. Heavy, like bludgeons … they’re going to – ’
‘Pipes …’ Gemma said. ‘Those are pipes sticking out of the back of the white van. That’s what’s doing the rattling – most of it. And that ladder on the roof … but I still think – Oh! It’s skidding!’
‘Run!’ Macho said. ‘Run! Yes – run! Beat our brains out! That’s what they’re shouting. They mean it. Why?’
Cressie opened her mouth, Adèle put her hand over it.
‘Fine …’ Redmoor encouraged impartially. ‘You’re doing just fine. Keep on. Everything you could see … everything you were thinking …’
The doorbell pealed sharply through the room. Everyone jumped. Redmoor cursed softly, bending anxiously over his subjects.
‘I’ll get it!’ Betty scampered to answer the door before the bell rang again.
‘Are they all right?’ Abby Borley asked.
‘I think so.’ Redmoor straightened up, frowning towards the door. ‘Don’t let – ’
‘They’re gaining on us!’ Macho was becoming agitated. ‘Hurry! Hurry!’
‘Those brakes! They’re not holding! Conqueror! Lionheart! Stop it! No! No! You’re pulling me over!’ Gemma, too, was losing her tranquil perspective. ‘Eeeek! Ooooh! … My ankle … my ankle … the pain …’ She began to cry.
‘A taxi!’ Macho shouted. ‘Grab it! Grab it! We’ve got to get away!’
‘I’ll bring them out of it.’ Redmoor was perspiring. ‘There’s no use trying to go on now.’
‘Hey!’ Jack and Karla Jackley burst into the room ahead of Betty. ‘The prodigals return – and there’s a party waiting! How about that!’
‘Great timing!’ Freddie viewed them with disfavour. ‘Couldn’t you have sulked in your tent a while longer?’
‘Huh? Whadda you mean?’ Jack looked around the room: no one appeared happy to see them. ‘Are we interrupting something?’
Gemma’s sobs died away, Macho shook his head, both seemed dazed and bewildered.
‘Are they going to be all right?’ Adèle asked. ‘They look … You know, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think I want to be next, after all.’
‘What do you mean – sulking?’ Jack was still mulling over his unenthusiastic reception. ‘What are you talking about? What tent?’
‘I’m sorry if we’re intruding,’ Karla apologized. ‘We didn’t realize. We were so excited about getting home. We were just this minute driving up and we saw the cats sitting in the window box looking in the
window. So we knew you must be in here and we thought we’d stop here first and say, “Hello, we’re back.”’
‘Back? This minute? Stop here first?’ Freddie echoed, staring at them. ‘You mean you’ve just got back? You haven’t been home already for days and days?’
‘Of course not.’ Karla frowned. ‘You’d have seen us long ago if we had.’
‘And you haven’t rented your house out? Or loaned it to friends?’
‘Hell no!’ Jack said. ‘What would we do a thing like that for, when there was no telling how long we’d be away?’
‘Then …’ Freddie asked, ‘who’s been living in your side of the house?’
Chapter Twenty
‘You mean there are squatters?’ Dorian’s eyebrows rose. ‘In Brimful Coffers?’
‘In our house?’ Karla’s concern was more personal. ‘Someone is trying to steal our house out from under us? Just because we don’t happen to be there for a while?’
‘That’s what squatting is.’ Dorian shrugged.
‘That’s stupid!’ Jack said. ‘Anyway, it won’t do them any good. The house doesn’t belong to us, we’re only renting.’
‘I’m not sure that actually makes any difference,’ Dorian said. ‘Possession being eleven points of the law and all that.’
‘Eleven?’ Jack said. ‘But – ’
‘That’s what happens when you quote too accurately,’ Professor Borley noted. ‘No one believes it, the original has been misquoted so often.’
‘I don’t believe they intend to keep the house.’ Freddie was following another train of thought. ‘I think they just want to borrow it for a while.’
‘Borrow our house?’ Karla was unbelieving. ‘Why? Who?’
‘Hilda Saint was telling me …’ Lorinda was reminded. ‘Her builders were getting to work in better time … now that they had found a place to stay locally.’
‘Builders would know how to get into a locked-up house.’ Freddie nodded. ‘And they’re never too careful about other people’s property. That would explain some of the thumps and crashes I’ve been hearing.’
Please Do Feed the Cat Page 17