The Bachelors

  We shall meet them all again by and by,

  By and by.

  Marlene had found that this hymn was unaccountably not ease-making to the schoolmasters and clergymen and more educated members, and on reflection even herself decided that she did not in fact want to meet the whole of her acquaintance again by and by. And so, after trying several other hymns which, for reasons of association, seemed unsuitable to various members, she had eliminated hymn-singing altogether. So they had a silence.

  After the silence Ewart said, ‘Mr. Patrick Seton will now unite the Two Worlds.’

  Patrick had been bound at the arms and calves of his legs by canvas strips to his chair. He let his head fall forward. He breathed deeply in and out several times. Soon, his body dropped in its bonds. His knees fell apart. His long hands hung, perpendicular, over the arms of the chair. Not only did the green-lit colour seem to leave his face but the flesh itself, so that it looked like a skin-covered skull up to his thin pale hair.

  He breathed deeply in the still dim room, second after second. Then his eyes opened and turned upward in their sockets. Foam began to bubble at his mouth and faintly trickled down his chin. He opened his mouth and a noise like a clang issued from it. The Circle was familiar with this clang: it betokened the presence of the spirit-guide called Gabi. Soon the clang was forming words which became clearer to the listeners in the circle round Patrick and to Marlene behind the hatch.

  ‘A message for one of our sisters present whose name resembles a plant. It comes from a short man in a Harris tweed suit through Guide Gabi who is speaking. The short man appears to be bearing on his back a long tube-like sack of faggots; no, they are golf clubs—’

  Freda Flower cried, ‘That’s my husband!’ but was immediately hushed by the rest of the Circle.

  ‘His name is William,’ clanged the voice. ‘He appears to be in a most disturbed state of mind. He looks very upset, and is trying to get a message through to our sister whose name is like a plant. He is extremely concerned about her.’

  ‘Why is he going for a game of golf if he is so upset?’ — This question crashed into the atmosphere; it came from the large newcomer sitting next to Freda Flower.

  ‘Not now, Mike,’ she said. ‘Ask the questions later.’ The clanging voice had stopped talking through Patrick’s lips. Patrick had begun to writhe a little in his bonds. His feet kicked with sharp clicks of the heels on the parquet wooden floor.

  Ewart Thornton dropped his neighbours’ hands and came over to Mike. He bent over him. He said, ‘By interrupting the medium you may do him great harm. You may even kill him. If you interrupt again you will have to go outside.’

  Freda said, ‘I’m sorry, Ewart, but my friend, Dr. Mike Garland, is a clairvoyant.’

  ‘He must not give clairvoyance at this stage.’

  Dr. Garland smiled and joined hands once more with those on either side of him. Ewart returned to his place. Patrick had stopped writhing and was apparently sunk in a deep sleep. He snored for a while through his open mouth from which presently emerged once more the inarticulate clang of Guide Gabi’s voice. For a while it repeated sounds which could not be identified. Eventually it said, ‘The sister whose name is of a plant is troubled in spirit.’

  Tears which she could not wipe away, since both her hands were engaged, spurted down Freda’s cheeks.

  ‘I see a man,’ the voice said, ‘in a Harris tweed suit—’

  ‘What colour?’ said Dr. Garland in a persuasive voice.

  ‘A green or a blue,’ the voice replied, ‘I can’t say exactly.’

  ‘That’s him!’ said Freda, brokenly.

  The voice from Patrick’s lips said, ‘His message to the sister with the name like a plant is this: Do not act against another of the brethren. If you do so it will be at your peril.’

  Several of the group gasped or muttered, for it was known that a court case was pending between Patrick and Mrs. Flower. Many peered forward to scrutinise Patrick’s appearance, but not even the most shaken or the most easily prone to doubt could find evidence that he was faking his trance. His physical characteristics had plainly undergone a change. The skin of his face appeared to cling even closer to the bone than when he had first gone under and the cheek-bones stood out alarmingly; his mouth had widened by about two inches, seeming now to reach almost from ear to ear as the clanging voice continued to proceed from it.

  ‘Let the sister beware of false friends and materialistic advice. The letter killeth but the spirit giveth life. What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and loseth his soul?’

  ‘He was so well-read in the Bible,’ said Mrs. Flower, weeping.

  The large pink-faced newcomer announced aloud, ‘I am going to give clairvoyance.’

  ‘No,’ Freda whispered, though all could hear, ‘I feel, somehow, this is genuine after all. I’d like to think it all over—’

  The newcomer shouted above Patrick’s din, ‘Nevertheless, I am going to give clairvoyance.’

  Ewart came over to him again and said, ‘Are you a trained clairvoyant? I’ve warned you about the danger to the medium of interruption.’

  ‘I am a trained and authentic clairvoyant,’ said Freda’s friend.

  ‘Guide Gabi,’ Patrick clanged on, ‘is about to give the initials of the spirit in the Harris tweed suit. The initials are W.F.’

  ‘William!’ said Freda.

  ‘I am a trained clairvoyant,’ shouted Freda’s friend. ‘And I hereby give notice that I am about to give clairvoyance to the medium in the chair.’

  ‘Señor Gabi speaking,’ Patrick clanged; ‘I hereby give notice that I reinforce the warnings given by the aforesaid spirit whose initials are W. F. to the sister among our members. These warnings can only be disregarded at the utmost peril to the sister whose name resembles a plant.’

  The man beside Freda had thrown back his head and lifted his hands to his temples.

  ‘No, Mike!’ Freda moaned.

  ‘I see,’ bellowed Mike Garland to the ceiling, ‘I see the medium in the public court, under a charge of fraud. I see the so-called medium exposed. I see—’

  A small rustling hubbub had arisen amongst the audience.

  ‘Señor Gabi speaking,’ came the voice from Patrick. ‘There is a hostile spirit among us who may cause infinite harm to—’

  ‘Patrick Seton, you are a fraud,’ boomed Mike to the ceiling. ‘And I challenge you, if Señor Gabi is an authentic guide, to give the initials of my name.’

  The small rustle amongst the audience immediately became a hush.

  ‘Señor Gabi speaking: the first initial of the hostile spirit is M.’

  ‘You are a fraud. You heard Mrs. Flower calling me Mike,’ boomed Mike. ‘What is the second initial?’

  Foam appeared at Patrick’s mouth and bubbled for a few seconds.

  Ewart murmured, ‘This is dangerous to him. We must stop it.’

  ‘The second initial,’ Mike shouted.

  ‘The second initial,’ came the clang, ‘is G.’

  ‘He’s right! ‘said Mrs. Flower. ‘Oh, Mike, I’ve been mistaken.’

  ‘You are a fraud,’ shouted Mike. ‘You have heard my name. You heard Mrs. Flower introducing me to a member.’

  Patrick dribbled from the mouth and his head drooped with exhaustion, and the water from his mouth dripped down his coat. His eyes closed.

  Ewart called out, ‘This disruption must cease. The clairvoyant will kindly leave the séance room.’

  But Mike, with his hands to his temples and head thrown back, began to intone. ‘There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. I see the prisoner brought to judgment and cast into outer darkness. There will be a trial. I see a young woman in distress and an older woman justified. I see—’

  Patrick cast up his eyes. ‘Guide Gabi warns the Circle of an evil influence present,’ he said. He lifted his head high and tossed it like a war horse.

  ‘You’ll put him in a frenzy,’ Ewart shouted, and the audience began also
to cry out phrases like ‘Too bad,’ ‘Wicked,’ ‘An evil influence,’ and ‘Uncivilized.’

  The room was in turmoil when Marlene flung wide the door. ‘What is this turmoil?’ she said, trembling with the impatience she had been repressing throughout her service-hatch vigil. She then switched on the lights.

  The noise ceased except for a sobbing sound from Freda. Patrick drooped once more, and breathed as one in a deep sleep. Mike shook his head, covered as it was with sweat, brought it to a normal level and his eyes into normal focus. Patrick slowly came round and looked at the roomful of people in a dazed way.

  Freda then collapsed with a thud on the floor, where she continued her sobbing, her legs moving as in remorseful pain and revealing the curiously obscene sight of her demure knee-length drawers.

  ‘Throw some water over her,’ ordered Marlene.

  ‘Tim, fetch some water. — Where’s Tim? Tim, where are you? Where’s that boy?’

  But at some point during the dark and troubled séance Tim had slid silently away.

  Chapter III

  ‘NEVER again,’ said Tim. ‘It was absolute hell let loose.’

  ‘Tell me a bit more,’ said Ronald Bridges. Just then Tim’s telephone rang.

  ‘Oh, Aunt Marlene,’ said Tim. ‘Sorry I keep forgetting — Marlene. After all, you are my aunt and — yes, Marlene. No, Mar — Yes, it was just that I was overwhelmed Marlene. Yes, I was just going to ring you.’

  He made a sign to Ronald to fetch over his drink. ‘No, Aunt — sorry, — No, Marlene. Yes. No. Of course. Of course not. Look, I’ve got a fellow here on official business. Yes, I do know it’s Sunday, but this was urgent and he called — Tomorrow at eleven. Right, I’ll ring you at eleven. Yes, at eleven. Goodbye, Aunt — Yes, at eleven. Yes. No. ‘Bye.’

  Tim took up his drink and subsided on to the sofa. ‘As I was saying,’ he said, then closed his eyes and slowly sipped his drink.

  ‘I’ve often been tempted to go to a spiritualist meeting,’ Ronald said, ‘just to see.’

  ‘I nearly died,’ said Tim opening his eyes behind his glasses.

  ‘I thought you had actually joined the thing, ‘Ronald said.

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose I had. But last night’s show was something special.’

  ‘How did it end?’

  ‘I left after the second act.’

  ‘Finished with it now?’ Ronald said.

  ‘Well, yes. But it needs caution.’ Tim nodded over to the telephone as if the spirit of his Aunt Marlene, whose voice had a few moments before come over on it, still lingered there. ‘She needs handling with tact,’ said Tim.

  ‘Whatever made you take it up?’

  ‘Well, it was rather exciting to start with. And it’s a fairly bleak world when all is said and done.’ He rose and carelessly slopped more gin and tonic into the glasses, without, however, spilling any. ‘And, you know,’ he said then, ‘there is something in it. This medium, Patrick Seton, isn’t altogether a fraud, you know. He’s got something.’

  ‘Patrick Seton, did you say?’ Ronald said.

  ‘Yes. Know him?’

  ‘A meek little thin-faced fellow with white hair?’

  ‘Yes, do you know him?’

  ‘I do remember him,’ Ronald said, pleased with this functioning of his memory. For now he was able to place in his mind the man he had seen the previous morning in the coffee-bar. ‘There was a case of forgery about five years ago,’ Ronald said. ‘I had to identify the handwriting. He was convicted.’

  ‘I believe there’s another case coming up against him,’ Tim said. ‘I’m not sure if it’s forgery. It’s the talk of the Circle. What a crowd!’

  ‘Fraudulent conversion,’ Ronald said.

  ‘You seem to know a lot about him.’

  ‘Martin Bowles is prosecuting counsel. He mentioned the case.’

  ‘I can’t believe he’s entirely a fraud as a medium,’ Tim said. ‘I’ve heard him come out with the most terrifying true facts that he couldn’t possibly have known about. He once told me during a séance about a personal affair at my office that nobody could have known about except me and another chap. And the other chap hadn’t any remote acquaintance with Seton.’

  ‘The affair might have been on your mind, and he might have picked it up by telepathy. Do you believe in telepathy?’

  ‘Well, yes, there seems to be evidence for telepathy. But it’s odd that Seton keeps picking things from people’s minds. He’s got something.’

  ‘I should like to have heard him,’ Ronald said.

  ‘You can go along if you like. Really, I mean it,’ Tim said eagerly. ‘There are meetings on___’

  ‘No, thanks,’ said Ronald. ‘You’ll have to make your escape some other way.’

  ‘I only thought, if you wanted to see Seton in his trance—’

  Ronald said, ‘He’ll probably be in prison before long.’

  ‘Do you think so? What a pity, in a way,’ said Tim. ‘Of course I know nothing about the case. But that type doesn’t ever stay out in the open for long.’

  ‘I suppose he could be a genuine medium,’ Tim said, ‘and a fraud in other respects. It’s a widow-woman who’s taking action against him. I think he used to sleep with her and he got some money off her, and then he stopped sleeping with her and’ now she’s furious. But she seemed pretty scared of him last night when he started to give out messages from her husband who’s dead. She’ll probably change her mind and withdraw the action.’

  ‘Can she do that?’ Ronald said. ‘It’s a police prosecution.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, really.’

  Tim’s telephone rang. ‘Yes, Marlene. No, Aunt —No. Well, yes, he’s still here. No, I can’t manage lunch, I’m afraid, I — Don’t be upset, Marlene. Listen. Don’t. Yes. No. Hang on a minute.’ Tim covered the receiver with his hand.

  ‘Would you come with me to lunch with her? ‘he said, mouthing at Ronald. ‘Not a séance, only lunch.’

  Ronald nodded.

  ‘Listen, Marlene,’ Tim said, ‘I think I can come. Can I bring Ronald Bridges? He’s the chap that’s with me. Yes, of course he’ll be interested. No, I don’t think so, no, he’s R.C. Yes, I know I said he was here on business but now we’ve finished our business chat. But of course he’s allowed to lunch with you, at least I think so. We’re just going for a drink now. Yes. Quarter-past. Yes, thanks. No, yes. ‘Bye.’

  Then he said to Ronald, ‘She’s upset. She thinks I’m going to leave the Circle after what happened last night. She’s right.’

  Ronald said, ‘Do you mind if I go home first to fetch my pills?’

  ‘I’ll come with you. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re coming for support. I don’t particularly want to fall out with Marlene.’

  ‘I was going to fry bacon and eggs,’ Ronald .said.

  ‘I was going to skip lunch,’ Tim said. ‘One can’t afford two restaurant meals in one day. And yet one’s got to eat, hasn’t one?’

  ‘There’s something about Sunday,’ Ronald said, ‘which is terrible between one and three o’clock if you aren’t in someone’s house, eating. That’s my feeling.’

  ‘Same here,’ said Tim. ‘Funny how Sunday gets at you if you aren’t given a lunch. Preferably by an aunt or a sort of aunt.’

  ‘Yes, it’s nice to see a woman on a Sunday,’ Ronald said.

  ‘I sometimes go down to Isobel’s with Martin Bowles,’ Tim said. ‘She’s a difficult woman but still one does like her company.’

  ‘On a Sunday,’ Ronald said.

  ‘I know exactly what you mean,’ Tim said. ‘Funny. Now Marlene is difficult, too. But I’m rather fond of her in a way. She thinks I’m after her cash and comforts, the darling. But in fact I’m genuinely fond of her. They don’t ever quite realise that.’

  ‘What was so distressing,’ Marlene said, ‘was hearing all the noise and not being able to see.

  ‘There wasn’t much to see,’ Tim said, ‘it was nearly all noise.’

&nbsp
; ‘You shouldn’t have gone away,’ said his aunt. ‘Why ever did you go away?’

  ‘I was overcome,’ Tim said.

  ‘Another time,’ his aunt said, ‘go and lie down on a bed. Don’t just go away.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  ‘I’ve found out the name of the man who came with Freda Flower. He’s a Dr. Garland. Doctor of what, I don’t know. He has quite a reputation as a clairvoyant, but of course he’s a fraud. So many frauds manage to get themselves good reputations. They prey on gullible women. Is all this boring you, Mr. Bridges?’

  ‘No,’ Ronald said. ‘It’s very interesting.’

  ‘Shall I call you Ronald, Mr. Bridges?’

  ‘Please do, I was going to suggest it.’

  ‘I hope you don’t mind eating in the kitchen.’ She pointed to the shuttered hatch. ‘The dining room is now the Sanctuary. Please call me Marlene. I don’t want you to think, Ronald, that what we’re discussing is in any way a normal occurrence. It has never happened before at any of our meetings, has it, Tim?’

  ‘Well, things have been working up to a row, haven’t they?’

  ‘Not at all. The deplorable behaviour of the Circle last night was quite unforeseen.’

  Tim stretched his long legs and sprawled on the sofa. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with a white handkerchief, then put on his glasses again. He made a rabbit out of his handkerchief.

  ‘Tim!’ said his aunt.

  Tim sat up, pulled the rabbit back into a handkerchief and said ‘What?’

  ‘You are not taking this seriously enough. I suggest that after lunch we all go into the Sanctuary for fifteen minutes for spiritual repose.’ She pointed to the hatch to indicate the Sanctuary. ‘I wish Patrick were here to guide us.’

  Tim said, ‘I shouldn’t really like to go in there again. At least, not yet.’

  ‘What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with the room — what was wrong was the evil spirit of that false clairvoyant amongst us.’

  ‘We can’t have spiritual repose while Ronald’s here,’ said Tim, looking desperately at Ronald, ‘because Ronald is a Roman Catholic and not permitted to have spiritual repose.’