Richard sat up ramrod straight, then glanced at Lloyd, who nodded. “I always know how long the sermon will be as soon as the vicar begins to speak.”
Jonny’s chuckle—quickly suppressed and apologised for—mirrored Toby’s first reaction, although his acting ability meant he’d been quicker about hiding it. “I’m afraid I must be being rather dim. Could you explain that, please?”
“Of course, Jonny. As I said, I can predict the length of a sermon, irrespective of who’s preaching. I’m accurate to the nearest tenth of a second, possibly to the nearest hundredth, although nobody in the congregation generally has a watch precise enough to test any of those decimal places.” Richard gave Moira, who was sitting on his right, a little smile.
“A hundredth of a second?” Jonny whistled. “That’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard in ages.”
The pair of them sounded entirely serious, as though Richard was reporting an innings he’d played at Lord’s and Jonny was truly enraptured by the account.
“Thank you. Not everyone is as appreciative of my skill. There are conspiracies. My friends here have heard all about them, so if they’ll indulge me for a moment while I recount them again…”
“Go ahead. I never tire of hearing about them,” Jeff said.
“You won’t believe this, Toby and Jonny, but fellow members of the congregation try to catch me out.”
Toby, grateful that he’d had so many opportunities to practice dissembling when in public with Alasdair, put on a fascinated expression while he tried to work out what was going on. Richard didn’t appear deranged, nor did the other three, who seemed to believe every word he said. It was especially true of Moira, who was gazing appreciatively at the man’s handsome profile, wrapped up in a story that was becoming increasingly bizarre. Maybe Toby was asleep and dreaming and would soon wake to discover it was still Monday morning.
Richard was pressing on. “People employ the deeply underhand stuff often found in an Anglican church full of ladies and gentlemen old enough to know better. Even the rector’s in on it, starting off at a lick from the pulpit then slowing down, in an attempt to wrong foot me.”
“Isn’t it awful?” Moira said. “So cruel. Especially from people who call themselves Christian.”
“They can be the very worst,” Jonny said, shaking his head. “Some of the least Christ-like people I know are Christians.” That could have been his great uncle talking. “Do you turn the other cheek, Richard?”
“I’m afraid that’s something I’ve struggled with. I have too often been tempted to get my own back, thereby rendering any attempt to nobble me completely worthless. You see, I don’t base my prediction on anything logical like the preacher’s prior form, nor the bulk of his notes. I just know, in the same was as you know that it’s daybreak when the sun comes up. I’m always right, no matter what people do to prevent it.” Richard eyed his audience. “Last winter, I was coming down with a touch of the flu and, being groggy, I accidentally said the predicted time out loud when the vicar mounted the steps to the pulpit. I was so loud that he heard. He began by speaking as slowly and deliberately as possible, to extend the length of his talk—everyone knew what was up, of course, so they were smirking and whispering. I began timing him, which I don’t do routinely, because it grew boring after the seventeen time of being right.”
“This is wonderful,” Jonny said. “I mean, it’s inexplicable, but it’s an oddity I appreciate.”
Alasdair deserved a special thank you for having suggested Jonny as a companion for the evening: the young man was taking everything in his stride. If Toby had been on his own, there was a good chance he’d have been making an excuse and leaving at this point.
Instead, it was time he chipped into the conversation. “That’s a low blow for a vicar to make. Can I ask how they knew you could predict the sermon time, in the first place? You don’t sound like you’re the type who would go around boasting.”
“I’m not, Toby. I’d rather nobody at all knew what I can do, outside of this room. The thing is, I got rather drunk at the harvest supper of 1949 and told the vicar’s wife. Of course, after that it all spread like wildfire.”
That detail sounded accurate. “So, what happened with the case of the ecclesiastical nobbling? Which, incidentally, sounds like something Alasdair and I might tackle in one of our Holmes and Watson films.”
“It would make a good film, if a rather comedic one, especially as the vicar was hoist on his own petard,” Richard replied, clearly delighted at Toby’s interest. “He still had at least two pages of notes to get through with only one second left on the clock, at which point the church boiler exploded. Brought a premature end to his game and prompted an evacuation of the building. I emerged victorious with an old lady on each arm, whom I helped to safety.”
“The hero of the hour. Does the vicar ever try the opposite?” Jonny asked. “Galloping through his notes to beat the time you’ve set?”
“Oh, yes. Just the once, about a month after the boiler incident. This time it was the curate, who was preaching at evensong, and had the gall to ask me before the service how long I thought he’d be in the pulpit for.” Richard’s eyebrows were almost as eloquent as Alasdair’s at expressing his disdain.
“How would he know you weren’t lying with the answer you gave him?” Toby asked, then had to remind himself that there was little point in making such a cross-examination, as surely none of this could be true.
“Because he knows I wouldn’t tell a lie in church. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t because people see right through me. I had my chance during the war to use my facility with numbers to…well to do more interesting things than logistics but I had to decline the offer. I simply don’t dissemble very well, and my face would have given me away if questioned about it. Anyway, I told the curate the predicted time and he went off with a smug grin, so I was expecting trouble. When he started off preaching, he went at a hell of a lick—if he’d carried on like that, he’d have been well inside what I’d forecast.” Richard paused, milking his audience’s interest. “But then he had a coughing fit. Swallowed a fly or something and almost choked. By the time he was given a glass of water and recovered sufficiently to continue, my forecast turned out to be bang on.” The smug grin plastered across Richard’s face suddenly disappeared. “I sound horribly like a show off. I’m not.”
“I don’t think any of us are,” Lloyd said, soothingly. “We can’t help what skills we’ve been given—it’s how we use them that counts. Thanks for being brave and going first.”
“I think it was less being brave than being sensible. Getting the trauma out of the way.” Richard sat back, arms crossed.
Lloyd turned to Jeff. “Would you like to enlighten Toby and Jonny about your special gift?”
“I’d be delighted. I can’t claim anything as spectacular as old Richard here and I feel rather embarrassed because it does benefit me personally, unlike his skill which reaps no rewards.” Jeff had laid down his cup and, seemingly alongside it, his over-hearty persona. He sounded deadly serious. “I always get a seat on a tram, or the underground, or whatever. No matter how busy it is.”
Jonny must have been better prepared for this strange revelation, saying, “That sounds handy.”
“It’s been very useful. Picture this: it’s the rush hour and along comes the bus. There’s no sign of a spare place to park your backside—excuse the crudity, Moira—but as soon as I get on, an empty place appears and down I sit.” Jeff raised his hand. “Now, before you think I’m being a touch selfish, that’s a debate I’ve had with myself since it first happened. Am I somehow taking advantage, when I shouldn’t be? So, obviously, I make a point of giving the seat I’ve found to somebody who really needs it, like an older person or a lady. I wouldn’t want them standing when I’m perfectly capable of doing so.”
Toby couldn’t resist asking the obvious, despite the doubt it cast on the account. “Are you sure it’s not simply a run of exceptional luck, Jeff? Like the run of luck I’m certain I experienced when we scrambled all those times and I came home unharmed.”
“You might think so.” Jeff glanced uneasily at Lloyd. “But it’s gone on too long, too consistently, and the details are too intricate. For example, I have to con myself in advance that I’m actually going to keep the seat if I get one. It never seems to work out if I’m determined to give it away to the woman next to me on the station platform who seems to be in an interesting condition. In that instance I don’t get a seat at all. It’s very complicated.”
Complicated or self-delusional ? And why the shifty glance?
“Tell Toby about the crash,” Moira said.
“Oh, yes. That happened quite early on in this palaver and was one of those strange events that had me wondering if there was more to what was happening than luck. It was long before I met Lloyd and he explained everything, of course.” Jeff gave the man concerned a nod. “So, back in 1944 I was home on sick leave, getting over a nasty break to my lower leg. Don’t ever attempt a ship’s ladder in a force eight gale off Sheerness. Anyhow, I was recovering well and only had a week left before I needed to be re-embarking, so I set off up west for a meal and a show. For some reason all the buses were heaving with passengers, but I got on one and, of course, a seat was waiting for me because someone hopped off at the last moment. I didn’t feel too guilty at first, because I was still a bit ginger about the old tibia and its recovery. Then the heavens opened and I remembered two old gents who’d been at the bus stop with me and I thought of how they’d be getting drenched, as a result of which I felt dreadful. I had my greatcoat on so would have been fine and that pair could have been left catching their deaths.”
This was quite a story, but was it real? This account also had a certain cinematic quality, as might have been depicted in an arty black and white film from an avant-garde director and the level of detail appeared over-egged. “Did the bus crash?”
“Yes. A lorry was coming in the other direction, had to brake suddenly, lost control on the wet road and ploughed into us. I only learned the details afterwards, because all my attention was on thinking about my old men and I have almost no memory of the accident itself. I woke up in hospital, concussed and bruised but otherwise fine. When I discovered that the conductress and one passenger had been killed and several people injured, my first thought was to be grateful that I’d got the seat and not one of my old codgers. I knew it was all meant to be.”
“Which just proves how valuable your ability was.” Moira gave Jeff a smile.
Toby would agree—if the tale was real—but nothing yet had addressed the question of why he’d been invited to hear these confessions. At present, assuming he hadn’t been picked on by a bunch of semi-lunatics, the only idea he’d come up with centred on that theatricality of what he’d heard. Did those present want to suggest to Landseer that they make a film about the group’s alleged powers, a madcap farce that would make Henry Himself , the studio’s biggest earning comedic hit, seem positively staid?
Maybe it was the other part of Toby’s life they were interested in, the increasingly well-known penchant for amateur detection. If they had something that needed investigating, like a missing group member—hence the extra chair—or some funds that had gone astray, they might want to call on his skills and this was simply providing what they felt would be relevant background.
“Moira, your turn, I believe,” Lloyd said.
“Well, if I must…” Moira rolled her eyes, in a way that Fiona could have emulated with aplomb. “I always have the correct money to pay for things.”
“Well, that’s more than useful.” Jonny beamed.
“Thank you, Jonny, although if you’re expecting it’ll be my round in the pub, later, then I’m afraid you’re mistaken.” Moira gave him as charming a smile as Fiona could have produced, and who could blame her? Given his handsome face and impeccable manners, Jonny could easily find himself a role in films, if he got bored with whatever he did to earn a living. “It’s not as straightforward as it might appear, so I’d better explain.”
Jonny raised a hand. “Before you do that, please can I apologise about my remark. I’d hate to have you think that I was wanting to take advantage of your largesse.”
“I don’t think that at all. Although it’s true that I generally hate people knowing about what happens, because someone would want to make gain from it.” Moira shook her head. “The chaps here, as you call them, never do.”
Funny that Moira wanted to keep her supposed ability secret because of worry about being taken advantage of but hadn’t mentioned keeping it secret because people would think her strange.
“That’s because we’re gentlemen all,” Lloyd said. “You don’t have access to infinite resources, do you, Moira?”
“I do not. And if there’s no change in my pocket to start with it won’t miraculously appear there just because you want me to buy you a pint of Guinness. For example, having the correct money couldn’t happen in the specific instance of going to the pub tonight because my pockets are empty at present. If I go and put some coppers in there now, in anticipation of a specific event, nothing will happen, I’m afraid.”
Toby took a deep breath. Funny how these so-called abilities were hedged about with conditions that rendered them incapable of objective testing.
Moira continued. “To clarify, if I do have small change, it always turns out to be the correct amount I need, whether the bill comes to one and eleven or three and sixpence halfpenny. As a once off, though, because afterwards my pockets are empty.”
“Are you always in profit or do you make a loss?” Jonny asked, again giving the impression that he was discussing something mundane.
“It varies. If I start out with five bob and I need to pay seven and six, then I’m up. If I’ve got three half crowns to start with but the bill’s two and eleven, then that’s suddenly how much I’ve got and I’m money down.” Moira shrugged. “I used to keep a running account, but I soon found that the ups and downs just about balance. I’m never going to make it onto the rich list, but I won’t go stony broke, either.”
This was all becoming too much for Toby. “Hold on,” he said. “Young Jonny seems to be on top of all of this, but I’m feeling completely baffled. I’m struggling to take it in.”
Moira patted his arm maternally, despite the fact they must have been a similar age. “Of course it is, Toby. All of us here have struggled to comprehend what’s going on but then we’ve each had times in our lives we thought we were the only ones who could do these strange things. It’s wonderful to discover we’re not alone.”
Alasdair was going to love hearing about this. Toby could imagine both of his lover’s eyebrows tapping out a morse code-like series of messages conveying disbelief and concern. He doubted Alasdair would let him come to another meeting, though, even if he wanted to and irrespective of whether he had an entire rugby scrum of bodyguards to watch over him.
Time for action. “Lloyd, before you explain to me what your special ability is, please could you tell me why I’ve been invited here?”
“Isn’t it obvious, Toby?” Lloyd said.
“It clearly can’t be, or he wouldn’t have asked,” Jeff cut in, with a hard edge to his voice suggesting he was also losing patience.
Lloyd shot him a withering look. “Thank you, Jeff. Toby, you’ve no doubt got the general gist of our little group. We’ve all got unique abilities. Mine, which is relevant to my answer, I assure you, is that I can detect people who possess these special gifts. Richard was the first I met, and we’ve added to our number steadily.” Another glance at the empty chair before pressing on. “Therefore, I knew as soon as I met Jonny downstairs that he’s unlucky enough not to possess any exceptional skill. You, however…”
Toby shook his head. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my special power is simply helping to get seats filled in the cinema and that’s hardly unique to me.”
“Are you sure?” Lloyd, eyes narrowed, scrutinised him.
“Absolutely positive. I think if there was anything else I was able to do I’d know by now. Unless it helped me be a better pilot, in which case it hardly seems to fit the bill as you’ve explained it to me.”
“Unless you’ve not yet had to employ whatever your skill is,” Richard said.
“Well, I suppose that’s possible.” Although Toby didn’t believe a word of it. He’d also noticed Lloyd’s brief look of annoyance when Richard made the suggestion. “I’m sorry not to be able to join your club,” he lied, “but thank you for inviting me along. I wish you every success for the future.”
“Hear hear.” Jonny rose from his chair. “It’s been a pleasure to meet you all.”
“You don’t have to go, either of you,” Moira said. “You can be our guests for the evening. I’ll make more coffee.”
Toby, who’d already edged towards the door, raised his hand. “We couldn’t impose any further on your wonderful hospitality. You’ll no doubt have business to discuss that might be awkward to complete in the presence of outsiders and we’ve been honoured enough to have been given your confidences. I promise that nothing we’ve heard today will go further.” Except into one particular set of ears.
“You’re a gentleman, sir. As are you, Jonny.” Jeff left his chair, came over and shook both their hands. “You’re welcome to drop into any of our meetings, as far as I’m concerned. Either or both of you.”
“Thank you.” Toby nudged Jonny’s arm and they quickly made their escape.
Once safely outside, the doorman having greeted them with a cheery, “Off early? Don’t blame you!” as they went past, Toby said, “Well, what do you make of all that?”
Jonny puffed out his cheeks. “I don’t know. Got a load of thoughts buzzing around my head and wouldn’t mind discussing them with a third party. Are you going to brief Alasdair on what’s transpired?”
“Naturally.” Toby eyed Jonny sidelong as they headed to find a taxi. “As soon as is feasible.”
“If it’s any help, can I say that the aged great uncle Jonty not only gave me some sound advice concerning the Ivor Gregg disappearance I was involved in clearing up but also about my friendship with my pal Roger. It was regarding the nature of our relationship with each other, advice which I swiftly acted on and I’m jolly glad I did. Hopefully that might illustrate that you’re in sympathetic company. Him and Professor Coppersmith, Roger and I…” Jonny gave him a shy grin.
Toby came to an abrupt halt. “Well, I’m blowed. Does everyone know?”
“Don’t worry, Uncle Jonty hasn’t mentioned anything about you and Alasdair, him being a discreet old bird. But any man like myself would have the chance of noticing the way you look at each other when you’re Holmes and Watsoning, even if the average person doesn’t. If I’ve got that deduction hopelessly wrong, then please pretend I said nothing, or give me a stiff right to the jaw: either is acceptable. If I’m correct, can you take what I’ve said as a long way round of stating that if you were intending to pop across and see Alasdair now, please can I tag along? I promise to make myself scarce when required.”
Toby chuckled. “Perhaps Lloyd was wrong when he said you didn’t have one of these daft powers the rest allegedly have. You seem to have read my mind about where I’m due to head next.” He shot out his arm to hail a cab which had conveniently come around the corner. “We’ll go there right away.”