Thump! I looked at the ceiling. ‘Not again.’ My new upstairs neighbour is a medium and her séances can get a bit noisy . Thump! THUMP! THUMP!! I rolled my eyes, imagining the curtains swishing, light bulbs popping and furniture flying round the room. I haven’t met her yet, though I caught a glimpse of her when she moved in—she’s one of these glamorous brunettes d’un certain age . But I know what she does, because for the past month people have been buzzing my intercom, and asking me if I’m ‘Psychic Cynth?’ Thump! Thump!! According to the letters she gets, her real name is Cynthia del Mar. THUMP! THUMP!!! I see her cat sitting on the fire escape sometimes.
THUMP!! THUMP!!! ‘EEEEEEHH!!!’ This really was a bit much. Why couldn’t she show a little consideration, or at least clock off at a reasonable time? I glanced at my watch. It was a minute to eight—time to turn on the TV; with luck it would drown out her noise.
‘Fingers on the buzzers now everyone,’ said the continuity announcer cheerily. ‘Because it’s time for Channel Four’s brand new quiz show - Whadda Ya Know?!! ‘ The opening credits rolled. And there I was, asking the four contestants—two men and two women—to introduce themselves. We’d recorded this edition in early January.
‘My name’s Peter Watts and I’m a civil servant.’
‘I’m Sue Jones and I work in I.T.’
‘I’m Geoff Cornish and I’m a poultry wholesaler.’
‘My name’s Kate Carr and I’m a librarian.’
‘Here we go. First Question…’
I felt disconsolate, watching it alone, but there wasn’t anyone to watch it with. My parents live in Yorkshire, Hope and Mike were out, and I hadn’t wanted to go round to Felicity’s because I was seeing her the following night. It would have been nice to have watched it with Tom, but he was obviously busy. I think he might be seeing someone—I’ve got that feeling. Now, as we got to the third or fourth question I heard, from above, ‘Oh!—oh!—OOOOOH!!‘ THUMP!! THUMP!!!
Living below a spiritualist might bother some people, but it doesn’t bother me because I don’t believe in the paranormal—I’m a rationalist, so I only believe in facts. But although it doesn’t spook me, I do object to the noise. And Geoff the poultry wholesaler had just got the question about Noël Coward completely wrong (the answer was Blithe Spirit , not Hay Fever ), when there was the sound of rapidly descending footsteps, then urgent knocking.
‘Hell-oooo!!!’ I heard, in a pleasantly husky, but oddly over-elocuted voice. ‘Is there anybody there? Is there anybody th-e-r-e? ‘ I wearily got to my feet.
‘You’re a medium,’ I muttered. ‘So you should know.’ I opened the door. There was Cynthia, looking desperate.
‘I’m awfully sorry,’ she breathed, clasping the architrave with both hands. ‘But I’ve got a problem.’
‘Yes?’ I said wonderingly, inhaling the overpowering aroma of her Knowing . I’ve a good memory for scents as well as facts.
‘I’m Cynthia.’ She offered me a bejewelled and beautifully manicured hand. ‘I know we haven’t met properly, but I wonder if you could help me.’
‘Sure. If I can do. How?’
‘My blasted television’s broken down again. It usually responds to manual violence, but not today for some reason.’ Ah. That explained the noise. But what did she think I could do? Thump it myself? Call Radio Rentals? ‘And there’s this new quiz show I’m dying to watch.’
‘I see.’
‘It looks like a real goodie actually.’
‘Hmm.’
‘So I wondered if you’d mind if I watched it down here.’ Oh.
‘Well…’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she breathed. ‘I know it’s an awful imposition.’ Why not, I thought? In any case my encounter with Luke had made me feel expansive and generous.
‘It’s…okay. I really don’t mind. I’m just watching it myself actually.’
She clapped her hand to her chest, rattling her string of large pearls. ‘Oh that
THUMP!! THUMP!!! ‘EEEEEEHH!!!’ This really was a bit much. Why couldn’t she show a little consideration, or at least clock off at a reasonable time? I glanced at my watch. It was a minute to eight—time to turn on the TV; with luck it would drown out her noise.
‘Fingers on the buzzers now everyone,’ said the continuity announcer cheerily. ‘Because it’s time for Channel Four’s brand new quiz show - Whadda Ya Know?!! ‘ The opening credits rolled. And there I was, asking the four contestants—two men and two women—to introduce themselves. We’d recorded this edition in early January.
‘My name’s Peter Watts and I’m a civil servant.’
‘I’m Sue Jones and I work in I.T.’
‘I’m Geoff Cornish and I’m a poultry wholesaler.’
‘My name’s Kate Carr and I’m a librarian.’
‘Here we go. First Question…’
I felt disconsolate, watching it alone, but there wasn’t anyone to watch it with. My parents live in Yorkshire, Hope and Mike were out, and I hadn’t wanted to go round to Felicity’s because I was seeing her the following night. It would have been nice to have watched it with Tom, but he was obviously busy. I think he might be seeing someone—I’ve got that feeling. Now, as we got to the third or fourth question I heard, from above, ‘Oh!—oh!—OOOOOH!!‘ THUMP!! THUMP!!!
Living below a spiritualist might bother some people, but it doesn’t bother me because I don’t believe in the paranormal—I’m a rationalist, so I only believe in facts. But although it doesn’t spook me, I do object to the noise. And Geoff the poultry wholesaler had just got the question about Noël Coward completely wrong (the answer was Blithe Spirit , not Hay Fever ), when there was the sound of rapidly descending footsteps, then urgent knocking.
‘Hell-oooo!!!’ I heard, in a pleasantly husky, but oddly over-elocuted voice. ‘Is there anybody there? Is there anybody th-e-r-e? ‘ I wearily got to my feet.
‘You’re a medium,’ I muttered. ‘So you should know.’ I opened the door. There was Cynthia, looking desperate.
‘I’m awfully sorry,’ she breathed, clasping the architrave with both hands. ‘But I’ve got a problem.’
‘Yes?’ I said wonderingly, inhaling the overpowering aroma of her Knowing . I’ve a good memory for scents as well as facts.
‘I’m Cynthia.’ She offered me a bejewelled and beautifully manicured hand. ‘I know we haven’t met properly, but I wonder if you could help me.’
‘Sure. If I can do. How?’
‘My blasted television’s broken down again. It usually responds to manual violence, but not today for some reason.’ Ah. That explained the noise. But what did she think I could do? Thump it myself? Call Radio Rentals? ‘And there’s this new quiz show I’m dying to watch.’
‘I see.’
‘It looks like a real goodie actually.’
‘Hmm.’
‘So I wondered if you’d mind if I watched it down here.’ Oh.
‘Well…’
‘I’m so sorry,’ she breathed. ‘I know it’s an awful imposition.’ Why not, I thought? In any case my encounter with Luke had made me feel expansive and generous.
‘It’s…okay. I really don’t mind. I’m just watching it myself actually.’
She clapped her hand to her chest, rattling her string of large pearls. ‘Oh that