‘Got any money?’ she asked Jane, fishing deep into the pocket of her broad canvas belt and pulling out a shilling and three pennies.
‘Not a sausage. Flat broke till payday,’ Jane sighed. ‘Which means we’ll be staying in tonight. Or we could go to cabin 10.’
‘To Lilith’s? Why not? But what about Vi? Think she’ll come?’
‘I don’t know. She was a bit shaken up last night. She thinks Lilith is guessing, and maybe she’s right. But I want to go, Lucinda. There’s something I’ve got to know.’
‘About a man?’
‘Maybe. By the way, you should ask Chief Wetherby to let you watch next time a submarine comes back from patrol. D’you know they actually fly a Jolly Roger? It was fascinating.’
There now, she had admitted it. In spite of her affected disinterest, Taureg’s return had been well worth watching. Which was, she decided, the whole trouble with Ardneavie and Omega and the strangeness of life in the Royal Navy, pitched into it feet first as she had been. Part of her embraced it gratefully whilst the other, the sad, secret part, rejected and resented it, all the while clinging blindly to what had been. Yet this morning, a part of her had been guiltily glad that Taureg had sunk three enemy ships, not to mention the destroyer. Four up for S-Sugar, she had thought with bitter satisfaction.
‘And there was a sailor there – submariner, I think he was – and he asked me for a date, but I said no.’
‘Why?’ Lucinda demanded, eyebrows arched. ‘Bad breath and big ears, or something?’
‘No. He was nice; very nice and rather good-looking, I suppose.’ He would probably have been good to dance with, too. He had only one fault, in fact. He was not Rob MacDonald. ‘But he wasn’t my type, not really.’
The launch bumped gently against the jetty, and the Wren ratings of starboard watch hurried ashore.
‘Oooh. I can smell it from here.’ Lucinda closed her eyes and sniffed the air ecstatically. ‘Liver, with onion gravy. Do hurry, Kendal dear. I’m ravenous!’
They went to cabin 10 that night; Jane because nothing would have kept her away; Lucinda because she had nothing better to do; and Vi reluctantly, because someone had to keep an eye on Lilith and her peculiar ways and maybe, though the eldest of the trio would never have admitted it, because she was more than a little curious about the birthday message. Half of her wanted to believe it; the other half clung to the dogma of her church and rejected it out of hand. One thing, though, was certain. Leading Wren Lilith Penrose would have to be watched, or Lucinda and Jane 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,