Only have to surveil her in daytime. Harry works nine-to-five, Monday to Friday. Says no point in being crime lord if you can’t work own hours. Neighbors think he’s in rag trade. So although boredom is war crime, at least got evenings and weekends to myself.

Piss. How are you getting on? Have cheery thought for you—at least Aidan didn’t leave you for other woman. Far rather someone died than did dirty on me. Mind you, if someone did dirty on me, would kill them, so result would be same.

From anyone else, this would sound unspeakably callous. But this was Helen. This counted as heartfelt sympathy.

48

Still no word from Mitch by Sunday morning and I bowed to the inevitable and got ready to go to the spiritualist-church place. Once again I got there miles too early and waited while across the hall the South Pacific lads did their stuff.

Like the previous week, Nicholas was the first to arrive. Today his T-shirt said DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR. “You came back! This is the best!”

I was so touched that I hadn’t the heart to tell him that the second I got the number from Mitch, I was off.

“Does Mitch come every week?” I asked.

“Most weeks. All of us come most weeks.”

As I had him on his own, I had to satisfy my curiosity. “Tell me, why does Mackenzie come? Who is she trying to contact?”

“She’s looking for a lost will, that would leave this, like huge inheritance to her side of the family. Time is running out. She’s down to her last ten million dollars.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Which bit?”

“All of it, I suppose.”

“Believe. Try it. It’s fun.” He grinned. “Look at me, I believe in the craziest stuff and I have a really fun time.”

“Like what?”

“Just about everything. Acupressure, aromatherapy, alien ab ductions—and that’s just the As. Government cover-ups, the power of meditation, that Elvis is alive and working in Taco Bell in North Dakota…You name it, I believe in it. Try me.”

“Um…reincarnation?”

“Check.”

“JFK was killed by the CIA?”

“Check.”

“That the pyramids were built by people from outer space?”

“Check.”

Eagerly he watched me, almost bursting out of his skin with the desire to say “Check!” again, when down the corridor came Leisl. She lit up like Times Square when she saw me. “Anna! I’m so happy you came back.” She gathered me into her bad perm. “I really hope you’ll get a better message this week.”

Steffi, the young frumpy girl, was next and she smiled shyly and said she was glad to see me, as did Carmela, one of the older elastic-waist ladies, then dazzling Mackenzie. Even Undead Fred expressed pleasure at my presence.

I felt a huge rush of warmth and gratitude to them…but where was Mitch?

Down the corridor they came: Pomady Juan; groovy old Barb; a few more elastic waists—everyone was here except Mitch.

The room was set up and the candles were flickering and we were all taking our places in the circle of chairs and there was still no sign. I was wondering whether I should ask Nicholas if he had a number for Mitch when the door opened.

It was him.

“Just in time,” Leisl said.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” He did a quick scan of the circle and his glance landed on me. “Anna, I’m sorry I didn’t call. I lost your card. I’m a mess,” he said. “But I’ve got the number here.”

He handed me a piece of white paper and I unfolded it and gazed at the number written on it. Ten precious digits that would lead me to Aidan. Right, I could go now!

But I stayed where I was. They’d all been so nice that I felt it would be rude to leave. And now that I was there and the groany cello music was going full blast, I began to hope that something might happen. I mean, what if today is the day that you decide to “come through” and I’d gone to get a pedicure?

49

The first message was for Mitch.

“Trish is here,” Leisl said, her eyes closed. “She looks like an angel today. So pretty, I wish you could see her. Mitch, she’s asking me to tell you that things will get better. She says she’ll always be with you, but you’ve got to start moving on.”

Mitch looked as bleak as any person could look. “How?”

“It’ll happen, if you’re open to it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not open to it,” Mitch said. “Trish,” he said, and it was shocking hearing him address her directly. “I’m not moving on, because I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Silence fell and we all shifted a little uncomfortably. After a while, Leisl spoke. “Barb, who’s Phoebe?”

“Phoebe?” Barb exclaimed, in her gravelly voice. “Well, who knew? She was one of my lovers, we shared a guy, famous painter, modesty forbids, edcedera, edcedera. She was married to him, I was humping him, then we both got rid of him and took up with each other. For a while. Heh, heh, heh. So what’s up, Phoebe, baby?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“How do you know?”

“Okay.” Leisl sighed. “I’m sorry about this, Barb, but Phoebe wants to tell you that—and I’m quoting here—‘he never loved you, you were only sex.’”

“Only sex? Whaddaya mean, ‘only’ sex? Sex is what it’s all about!”

“Let’s move on,” Leisl said quickly.

This is crazy, I thought. A beyond-the-grave slanging match. I shouldn’t be here. I’m normal and sane, these people are nuts…

Then Leisl said, “I’m getting a man,” and my stomach nearly jumped out of my mouth. It jumped straight back in again when Leisl said, “He’s called Frazer. Mean anything to anyone?”

“Me!” Mackenzie said, at the same time as Leisl said, “Mackenzie, it’s for you. He says he’s your uncle.”

“Great-uncle. Cool! So where’s the missing will, Great-uncle Frazer?”

Leisl listened for a moment, then said, “He says there is no missing will.”

“But there’s gotta be a will!”

Leisl shook her head. “He seems totally sure.”

“But if there’s no will, what am I going to do for money?”