Please Do Feed the Cat (19 page)

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Authors: Marian Babson

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‘It probably would have been,’ Lorinda agreed. ‘But why? I mean, it doesn’t have anything to do with, um,
Anne Boleyn Is Missing!
Does it?’
‘That’s not the point. Cressie was going to act as Mistress of Ceremonies at the Regression Party. The publicity – especially if Gemma was able to provide any clues about the hit-and-run – would have launched her new name in a storm of attention. And, I suspect, she was planning to use it as a demonstration tape to audition for one of those presenter jobs that pay so extravagantly.
‘Well …’ His mouth twisted unpleasantly. ‘She’s snookered there. And she isn’t going to be happy when she finds out.’
‘Lorinda! Freddie!’ Gemma swung the door wide. ‘How kind of you to come.’ She craned her neck to look beyond them. ‘Are Macho and Cressie with you?’
‘No, haven’t seen them all day,’ Freddie said.
‘They’ll be along soon,’ Lorinda assured her anxious hostess. Gemma was really in a state. Her hands were fluttering like butterflies. But – wasn’t there something missing? ‘Where are – ’
‘I’ve shut the dogs in the back hall. They were getting so over-excited. And, since I don’t know exactly what this entails … and they’re so protective – ’
‘It would never do to have them attack the hypnotist,’ Freddie agreed gravely.
‘Exactly. Come and meet him. He’s such a dear boy. It’s a shame he hasn’t had greater success – but his time will come, I’m sure.’ She led them into the living room.
‘The clan begins to gather.’ Professor Borley rose to greet them. ‘What can I get you?’ He appeared to have taken permanent charge of Gemma’s bar.
Betty Alvin nodded to them warily; there seemed to be something defensive in the way she was clutching her glass. Either she did not entirely approve of the proceedings, or the black-clad young man hovering near her was making her uneasy. He did look rather sinister, all in black relieved only by a glittering pendant on a gold chain around his neck.
The doorbell rang and the young man jumped visibly, his thin wiry body quivering. Highly strung, or possibly
suffering a form of stage fright? It must be daunting to step down from the shelter of a proscenium arch into a parlour where one was too closely surrounded by the audience.
‘There are the others. Good.’ Gemma started for the door. ‘As soon as we’re all settled with drinks, we can begin.’
The young man quivered again. He did not look happy. Lorinda wondered if Gemma was paying him anything, or had lured him with the promise of future publicity – if she could persuade the current staff of her ex-magazine to agree.
The others returned, Gemma and Macho still exchanging pleasantries, Cressie following them sullenly. Another one who was not happy at the turn of events and who, if she had really drunk all of that bottle of vodka Macho had seen her with, was probably still hungover.
That didn’t stop her from accepting another glass of it, however. She stared resentfully around the room, her gaze finally coming to rest on the young man. That made him quiver, too.
‘My dears, allow me to present – ’ Gemma waved him forward, he moved reluctantly – ‘Jeffrey Redmoor, Magician and Hypnotist
Extraordinaire!’
He sketched a bow and managed to look interested as Gemma reeled off their names before concluding, ‘Now then – ’
The doorbell rang.
‘But …’ Gemma looked towards the entrance hall, disconcerted. ‘But we’re all here.’
The doorbell gave another sharp imperious summons.
‘I suppose I must …’ Gemma looked around uncertainly before going to answer it.
‘Gemma, my dear, I hope we’re not late.’ Dorian’s voice preceded him into the room. ‘You must forgive me, but your message on my answering machine was so garbled I had difficulty interpreting it.’ He entered, nodding affably to everyone.
‘Oh … well …’ Gemma could barely speak. His
effrontery took her breath away. ‘I … um …’ There had been no message and everyone knew it.
‘I made Dorian bring me.’ Adele Desparta pushed past them. ‘I know we’re gate-crashing – and I don’t care! As soon as I heard what was happening here, I had to come.’ She fixed her gaze unerringly on the unfortunate Jeffrey Redmoor, who was looking less
extraordinaire
by the moment.
‘I insist that you hypnotize me, too! I have nothing to hide – and I want to prove it. I can’t go on like this!’
‘I’ve tried to tell her.’ Dorian shrugged. ‘She’s confusing hypnotism with a lie detector test.’
‘I’ll take that, too, if I must. I’ll do anything to clear my name!’
‘Can you do that?’ Cressie’s interest was caught, her eyes gleamed at Jeffrey Redmoor. ‘Can you hypnotize more than one person at a time?’
‘Oh, yes. On the cruise ships, I often had to deal with ten or more volunteers at a time. They’d mob the stage and wouldn’t let me get away with choosing just one or two. They all wanted to be in the act.’ His eyes were haunted, his quivering had settled down to a steady tremor. Lorinda began to wonder whether he were not so much ‘resting’ as recovering from a nervous breakdown.
‘It isn’t advisable, you know. So many.’ He gave a reminiscent shudder. ‘And when they’ve been drinking, they all think they’re comedians. Sometimes you can’t tell whether you’ve genuinely put them under or not. And that’s important, when you come to bring them out of the trance. No, no, one at a time is much better.’
‘I’m willing to take my turn,’ Adèle said. ‘Let’s get on with it.’
‘Oh, but …’ Swamped by a stronger personality, Gemma was floundering again. ‘I’m not sure … That is … if Jeffrey doesn’t mind …? He only expected me.’
‘I’ll make it worth your while.’ Adèle spoke directly to Jeffrey. He nodded, but did not seem any happier.
‘Oh, well …’ Gemma was also unhappy and nervous.
‘What do we do now then? Sit in a circle and hold hands?’
‘Not unless you want the victims to join us.’ Dorian did not bother to conceal his amusement. ‘That’s the drill for a seance.’
‘Oh, well,
I
don’t know …’ Flustered, Gemma looked around helplessly. ‘I thought … I mean, I’d heard something about circles …’
‘Just sit down and make yourself comfortable.’ Jeffrey Redmoor spoke with sudden authority, assuming his professional persona. ‘All of you.’
There was a general shuffling about for chairs. Macho and Cressie bagged the ones nearest to the armchair Jeffrey was settling Gemma into. Adèle pulled a chair closer on the other side. They didn’t intend to miss anything.
‘Anyone for a refill before this starts?’ Professor Borley was remaining by the bar. No one bothered to answer him. Suddenly, the occasion had gone beyond the social.
In the expectant silence, tension eddied through the room and into the farthest corners of the flat. Even the dogs seemed to sense it. Muffled yelps sounded on the far side of the door leading from the kitchen into the back hall.
Jeffrey Redmoor leaned over Gemma and began speaking softly. Macho and Adèle leaned forward, so did Cressie.
Betty Alvin watched intently as Redmoor removed the chain and pendant from around his neck. He swung the pendant slowly in front of Gemma’s face. Her eyes followed it.
Lorinda blinked and looked away to find Freddie also blinking. They grimaced slightly at each other and settled farther back in their chairs, distancing themselves.
Dorian got up and sauntered over to join Professor Borley at the bar. He stood there observing the scene as though it were a private performance being staged for his own personal entertainment and casually refilled his glass.
‘Oh!’ The clink of glass against bottle distracted Gemma, her eyes, which had been closing, flew open. ‘Oh,
do
help yourselves. I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry …’
‘It’s all right.’ Redmoor gently cradled her cheek with one hand, turning her face away from the others and back to him. ‘You’re doing fine.’ It would take more than Dorian wandering around the room to unsettle him, he had encountered far worse with the drunken revellers on the cruise ships.
‘Just let yourself relax … it’s all right to feel sleepy …’ He droned on, voice deliberately soothing and expressionless.
‘Yes … yes. I’m sorry … I’ll pay attention …’
‘You don’t need to pay attention. You need to relax … you’re so tired. Take a deep breath … and another … and yawn. Think how nice it would be to fall asleep right now … no one would mind. You’re among friends …’
‘Yes … friends.’ Gemma yawned. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’
‘No need to apologize … no one minds. You can yawn all you like …’
Gemma yawned again. Macho yawned, too. Lorinda tightened her own jaw muscles in an effort to resist the contagion. Even Freddie succumbed, although with another rueful grimace.
After that, everything seemed to go on for an inordinate length of time. Time enough for Dorian to snag another drink, and for Professor Borley to tiptoe lumberously amongst them, refreshing their own drinks. Time enough for boredom to begin to set in. She had to resist a strong temptation to turn to Freddie and start a conversation.
When Redmoor finally straightened up, she would not have been surprised had he admitted defeat and called for a drink. Instead, he gave a faint nod of satisfaction, as at a job well done.
‘Now we can begin,’ he said.
‘Aren’t you going to stick a pin in her first?’ Cressie demanded, watching Gemma’s blank face avidly.
‘Why would I want to do that?’ Redmoor looked at her with distaste.
‘To make sure she’s really in a trance, of course.’ The look Cressie gave him doubted his ability, his credentials and perhaps even his antecedents.
‘I can assure you she is.’ He gave Cressie a
Heaven deliver me from amateurs
look and turned away, dismissing her. He bent over Gemma again, murmuring softly.
‘Now … you are back there … in that time you must remember …’ He raised his voice to encompass his audience. ‘Open your eyes and tell me what you see.’
‘Conqueror – no!’ Gemma shrieked, her eyes wide open and staring into space. ‘Lionheart – stop! Bad dogs! Bad dogs! Stop!’
In the distance, the pugs began barking wildly, hurling themselves against the closed door.
‘No … no …’ Redmoor slid a hand across Gemma’s forehead and eyes. ‘Go back to sleep. It’s all right … all right …’
Gemma’s eyes closed, her breathing quietened.
‘Sorry,’ he apologized, turning to the others. ‘I haven’t tried this sort of regression before. One can never be sure how the subject will react.’
‘A little less emotion is called for, I think,’ Professor Borley suggested helpfully.
‘Yes, yes, that’s right.’ The nervous quiver had returned. Redmoor no longer seemed so completely in control of the situation, but he turned back to Gemma.
‘You are calm … you are tranquil …’ he intoned. ‘It is all in the past. You are looking back from a great distance. You can see it all … but it no longer upsets you. You are above it all … you can talk about it. You are there … but not physically. Now … open your eyes again … Look around … and tell us what you were seeing on that unhappy night … what you were thinking …’
‘Unhappy, yes …’ Gemma sighed, but was otherwise calm. ‘So dark and rainy … cold … What is that child
doing out so late on a night like this? No, Conqueror, we’re not going that way tonight … We want to get back – ’
‘I don’t like these people.’ Another voice cut across hers. ‘I don’t like the look of them. What are we doing in this place? Is this what you meant by “a bit of rough”?’
‘Great Lord! He’s overshot his mark!’ Dorian began to laugh into the stunned silence. ‘The idiot has put Macho under, too!’
‘Let’s think of some good questions to ask!’ Freddie snorted. Betty Alvin giggled nervously.
‘Quiet, please, quiet!’ Redmoor pleaded desperately. ‘You mustn’t startle them … wake them at this stage. It might be dangerous.’
‘Why did he go under and not me?’ Adèle was aggrieved. ‘I was the one who
wanted
to be hypnotized!’
‘Please … please …’
‘As an informed guess, I’d say Macho is a lot more suggestible than you are.’ Dorian was still chuckling.
‘Please … this is not a joke. The consequences to them could be serious.’
‘There’s a car coming along behind us,’ Gemma said. ‘I can hear it, but not see it. Its headlights are too dim. And it doesn’t sound roadworthy. All those rattling noises. I’m sure it’s not safe …’
A rattly car, barely roadworthy. Lorinda could not resist a sideways glance at Betty Alvin, who seemed no longer disposed to giggle.
‘Don’t think I don’t recognize that smell in the air …’ Macho sounded cross, he spoke with more animation than Gemma. Perhaps that instruction about calm had been so directed at her that it had bypassed him. ‘I used to be a schoolteacher, you know. It’s not unknown to me. Is that why you’ve brought us here? To pick up a fresh supply of whatever drug you use?’
‘Shut up, you fool!’ Cressie snapped.
‘Doggies, doggies, why are you so restless tonight? The sooner I get you home the better. I don’t know what’s got into you both tonight.’
‘That man over there, the one who looks like a bouncer.’ Macho lifted his head and looked into the distance. ‘I think he’s waving at you. Do you know him?’
‘Shut up! Shut up!’ Cressie lurched forward, hand raised to strike. Adèle caught her arm and pushed her back into her seat.
‘He may be suggestible, but he doesn’t like orders,’ Abby Borley observed. ‘I can’t say I blame him.’

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