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Mrs Gilsden takes a sharp breath. ‘My father, Archie’s grandfather. It must be he.’

‘Are you Mrs Gilsden’ father, Robert?’ I ask.

The planchette moves to Yes .

Mrs Gilsden begins to cry and presses her handkerchief to her mouth to smother her sobs.

I sense then why Robert has come through. ‘Is Archie with you, Robert?’ I ask.

R E S T I N G

‘Is Archie resting after his ordeal?’

Yes

‘Is he happy and at peace?’

Yes

‘Do you have a special message for your daughter, Robert?’

L O V E

‘Oh, Papa. I love you, too. You can’t imagine how much I miss you. Please take care of Archie. Please take care of my son.’

I see a vision of Robert laughing and feel I must pass this on. ‘I’m being shown a man in a black frock coat with a white collar. He has a sweeping moustache, rather like Archie’s, and spectacles that hang on a long chain. He’s holding a bible.’

‘Yes, that’s Papa,’ Mrs Gilsden states keenly. ‘He was a vicar.’

‘That makes sense then. He’s laughing. He’s telling you not to worry.

He and Archie are both where they should be.

Everything is as it should be. He says you must live your life with joy and love, and not waste time mourning your loss.

He and Archie are not lost to you; they are simply out of sight, for now. ’

Mrs Gilsden nods. Her cheeks are shiny with tears.

‘That’s beautiful,’ Cavill murmurs under his breath. I wonder whether he’s thinking of Hermione.

‘Ask for William to come through,’ Didi demands impatiently. ‘I know he will come if you ask him to. William, are you here?’

I know I must do as I’m told, but first I tell them to move the planchette to Goodbye to officially close our session with Robert.

Then I do Didi’s bidding. ‘William Aldershoff, if you are here, please make yourself known.’

It takes only a moment for William’s energy to be felt, for, unlike Robert’s, William’s is fiercely assertive.

Yes

‘Oh, my darling William,’ Didi exclaims, moved suddenly to tenderness. ‘Is that really you?’

The planchette quivers on the word Yes .

I link into his energy and see a tall, powerfully built man with a black beard and intense, cobalt-coloured eyes. I perceive his intelligence, which is formidable, and a mischievous sense of humour.

‘How can I be sure it is you?’ Didi asks. ‘Give me proof.’

I see him smile wryly. The planchette moves again.

F I N D W H I T M A N

‘I don’t understand,’ says Didi. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Walt Whitman?’ Cavill suggests.

‘Oh, really, how can that be proof?’ says Didi petulantly. ‘Walt Whitman?’

‘To find Walt Whitman?’ Cavill adds.

‘Who’s Walt Whitman?’ I ask, assuming he’s a friend.

‘The author,’ Didi tells me. I can tell from her tone of voice that she’s surprised I don’t know.

I nod. ‘Then we must find him.’

‘And how might we do that?’ Didi asks. ‘How can we possibly find him when he’s dead?’

Then a thought springs to mind. ‘Walter, will you do as he asks and find Walt Whitman in the bookcase?’

‘You think that’s what he means?’ Alice asks, eyes gleaming with fascination.

‘Perhaps,’ I reply. ‘We’re in the library, after all.’

Walter-Wyatt takes no time in finding W and seizes upon a green book with gold writing. He holds it up for us to see. ‘ Leaves of Grass ,’ he reads out. ‘Good God, is this it, do you think?’

‘Will you please give it to Mrs William Aldershoff,’ I say.

Walter-Wyatt places the book on the table in front of his mother.

The planchette moves again. Every eye focuses keenly upon it.

O P E N

Didi gasps. Now she’s in no doubt that her husband is present.

With a trembling hand, she lifts the hard cover.

To her surprise, there’s a secret compartment within, lined in red velvet.

Placed in there is an old dollar bill. ‘Oh, my Lord!’ she mutters, touching it gently.

She is clearly stirred. ‘This was the first dollar he ever made. He told me he had hidden it somewhere clever. He liked to hide things.’ Her eyes well with tears and her voice cracks.

She puts a hand on her breast and takes a deep breath.

‘He said that he held this dollar in his hand and made a vow, that he would become the richest man in America.’

‘Well, he certainly did that,’ says Alice, laughing lightly.

‘What special message do you have for your wife?’ I ask.

L O V E N O T H I N G M A T T E R S

‘What on earth does he mean?’ Didi asks. ‘Nothing matters?’

‘I think he means that nothing matters, but love,’ I tell her.

She frowns. ‘How absurd!’

‘That doesn’t sound at all like William,’ says Alice.

‘How very odd,’ Didi mutters, but she’s frowning. I wonder whether she’s realising that wealth is only an earthly concern. Where William Aldershoff is, material wealth means nothing at all.

The planchette moves again. Another entity has taken over.

I try to sense who it is, but William Aldershoff’s energy is so strong, it’s overpowering it.

I focus and try to sense beyond William.

I perceive a faint female energy. It’s soft and gentle, and coming to me in colours of baby pink and apple green.

Yes, I see colours, but I can’t see a face.

B E W A R E T H E S T A I R

I’m startled by the warning, and alarmed, suddenly. It’s very specific, but cryptic. A part of me wants to ask questions, but I feel an unpleasant darkness creeping into the corners of the room. I make the decision to close the session.

‘Goodbye,’ I declare loudly, reaching into the table and sliding the planchette to the word Goodbye on the board. ‘We must draw this seance to a close,’ I say quickly.

The women take their fingers off the planchette.

‘Whatever does he mean, beware the stair? What stair? And who needs to beware?’ Didi looks at me for an answer.

I shrug. ‘I don’t know. But I do know that that wasn’t your husband, but another entity pushing through. Ignore them.’

‘Most peculiar,’ Didi murmurs. ‘Is it me? Do I have to beware of the stair? Is something going to happen to me ?’ I can see that she’s a woman who brings everything around to herself.

‘No, nothing is going to happen to you,’ I reassure her, folding the board and reaching for the blue box. Although, I can’t be sure.

I remember the dark energy I sensed on the stair in the hotel and a cold shiver ripples over my skin. Beware the stair. What on earth are they trying to tell me?

And I don’t know who is giving the warning, or who it is for.

But I sense that I’m finally approaching the reason for my slide.

I glance at Cavill and anticipate my departure with a stab of anguish.