Beyond Black: A Novel Read Free Page B

caught just a glimpse. An elderly person. Ah well. There’ll be no lolling in the old armchair tonight. Straight on with the show.” She downed the drink, put the empty glass on the countertop with her strewn boxes of powder and eye shadow. Morris would lick her glass while she was out, running his yellow fissured tongue around the rim. Over the public address system, the call came to switch off cell phones. Al stared at herself in the mirror. “No more to be done,” she said. She inched to the edge of her chair, wobbling a little at the hips. The manager put his face in at the door. “All right?” Abba was fading down: “Take a Chance on Me.” Al took a breath. She pushed her chair back; she rose and began to shine.
     
    She walked out into the light. The light, she would say, is where we come from, and it’s to the light we return. Through the hall ran small detonations of applause, which she acknowledged only with a sweep of her thick lashes. She walked, slowly, right to the front of the stage, to the taped line. Her head turned. Her eyes searched, against the dazzle. Then she spoke, in her special platform voice. “This young lady.” She was looking three rows back. “This lady here. Your name is—? Well, Leanne, I think I have a message for you.”
    Colette released her breath from the tight space where she held it.
    Alone, spotlit, perspiring slightly, Alison looked down at her audience. Her voice was low, sweet, and confident, and her aura was a perfectly adjusted aquamarine, flowing like a silk shawl about her shoulders and upper arms. “Now Lee, I want you to sit back in your seat, take a deep breath, and relax. And that goes for all of you. Put on your happy faces—you’re not going to see anything that will frighten you. I won’t be going into a trance, and you won’t be seeing spooks, or hearing spirit music.” She looked around, smiling, taking in the rows. “So why don’t you all sit back and enjoy the evening? All I do is, I just tune in, I just have to listen hard and decide who’s out there. Now, if I get a message for you, please raise your hand, shout up—because if you don’t, it’s very frustrating for the spirits trying to come through. Don’t be shy, you just shout up or give me a wave. Then my helpers will rush to you with the microphone—don’t be afraid of it when it comes to you, just hold it steady and speak up.”
    They were all ages. The old had brought cushions for their bad backs; the young had bare midriffs and piercings. The young had stuffed their coats under their chairs, but their elders had rolled theirs and held them on their knees like swaddled babies. “Smile,” Al told them. “You’re here to enjoy yourselves, and so am I. Now, Lee my love, let me get back to you—where were we? There’s a lady here called Kathleen, who’s sending lots of love in your direction. Who would that be, Leanne?”
    Leanne was a dud. She was a young lass of seventeen or so, hung about with unnecessary buttons and bows, her hair in twee little bunches, her face peaky. Kathleen, Al suggested, was her granny: but Leanne wouldn’t own it because she didn’t know her granny’s name.
    “Think hard, darling,” Al coaxed. “She’s desperate for a word with you.”
    But Lee shook her bunches. She said she didn’t think she had a granny; which made some of the audience snigger.
    “Kathleen says she lives in a field, at a certain amount of money … bear with me … Penny. Penny Meadow, do you know that address? Up the hill from the market—such a pull, she says, when you’ve got a bag full of potatoes.” She smiled at the audience. “This seems to be before you could order your groceries online,” she said. “Honestly, when you think how they lived in those days—we forget to count our blessings, don’t we? Now Lee, what about Penny Meadow? What about Granny Kathleen walking uphill?”
    Leanne indicated incredulity.  She  lived on Sandringham Court, she