Mr Scarletti's Ghost (11 page)

The difficult question was what she should do next. On the one hand she could not begrudge her mother the pleasure and diversion she gained from the gatherings with Miss Eustace, but on the other it seemed to her that there was a very real possibility that Miss Eustace was a criminal who made money from deceiving the vulnerable. She determined after some thought to discuss the question with the one person she knew who had attended the séances and appeared to have some doubts – Dr Hamid.

Louisa Scarletti was now, in her own estimation at least, well on her way to becoming the hostess of a fashionable
salon
, and all her talk was of who she might invite to Mr Bradley's healing circle in future, and, more importantly, who should not be invited, and who had attended in the past who ought never to be invited again. She spent much of her time studying the newspapers and directories of Brighton, making lists of her approved guests, and giving orders to the cook.

In one area, however, she remained sorely disappointed. Her efforts, even combined with those of Mr Bradley, to persuade Reverend Vaughan of Christ Church that the healing circle was not irreligious had met with failure. On the Sunday after the first gathering the reverend had taken as his text Matthew 24.11: ‘And many false prophets shall rise, and shall deceive many.' While he did not mention Mr Bradley by name, his meaning could not have been clearer, and during his sermon, the reverend cast some very severe looks not only at that gentleman, but at Louisa, Mina and any others whom he had been informed might be members of the circle. Mr Bradley sat throughout with a fixed smile on his face and pretended that the sermon was nothing to do with him, but Louisa made no secret of her increasing fury. According to St Matthew, the false prophets would arrive in sheep's clothing and perform great signs and miracles, but inwardly, they would be ravening wolves. Mina did not think either Mr Bradley or Miss Eustace looked like ravening wolves, but then, on reflection, she realised that this was the very point that St Matthew was making.

When Mr Bradley's healing circle met again, the sceptical Mr Jordan was not present, whether by his own intention or Louisa's Mina did not know, but the two widowed sisters Mina had met at the séance, Mrs Mowbray and Mrs Peasgood, had been added to the company. Mrs Bettinson, Miss Whinstone, Mrs Phipps and Mr Conroy were early arrivals, and to Mina's surprise when she entered the parlour, she saw her tenant, the normally energetic Mrs Parchment, sitting there looking very stiff and uncomfortable, and staring at a platter of iced cakes with extreme disfavour. How Louisa had persuaded her to attend, Mina could not imagine and why she would have wanted her there was an even greater mystery. Mrs Parchment appeared to be labouring under a similar sense of amazement.

Before the proceedings commenced, several more ladies and two gentlemen crowded into the parlour, which was starting to resemble a crush at a society drawing room. Mr Bradley started by greeting all those present with an equal distribution of his charm, although he swiftly moved on to an oleaginous appreciation of his hostess, and an especial welcome to those new to the circle. The ladies and gentlemen present, he declared, might or might not know this, but it was to Mrs Scarletti that he owed the great success of the little circle, which he anticipated might even in time become a very large circle, or even several circles. Throughout the encomium to her mother, Mina could only feel grateful that his attention was thereby diverted from herself. All then proceeded as before, with Mina allowing the peaceful atmosphere devoid of all interruptions to concentrate her mind on completing the composition of her tale of the jewel in the fish.

It was as Mr Bradley conducted the individual healing that Mina's mind came back to what was before her, for when he paused in front of Mrs Parchment he did not, as he had done with the other ladies, touch her hand. Instead he knelt, and rested his palm on her right foot. She started, and almost withdrew the foot, then submitted to the touch with a faint frown.

Mina looked at her mother, and saw her lips curve knowingly. It was too transparent, of course. Mina deduced that the reason Mrs Parchment had not gone on her usual brisk walk that day was because she had some small injury to her foot, something that her mother knew about, and had doubtless communicated privately to Mr Bradley. There was no point in Mina suggesting that there had been any complicity since there was no proof, and both parties would deny it vehemently. The point of the dissimulation was clearly to add to Mr Bradley's fame by demonstrating that his knowledge of Mrs Parchment's injury should be attributed to his special insight. Mina felt disgusted at the imposture, but it appeared trivial enough. If her mother and Mr Bradley thereby felt some enhancement of their status then they should be left to enjoy their shallow delights, and if Mrs Parchment imagined her foot to feel better, why then she had received a benefit. Mr Bradley's healing touch was no worse than the coloured water sold by quack doctors, which so many of their patients declared had cured them.

When Mrs Parchment had limped back to her room, Louisa announced to the remaining company that Mr Bradley had not seen the lady walk before he had arrived, and had not known about the injury to her foot. Nevertheless he had sensed at once that she required a healing and also the precise location of the pain. It was a wonderful proof of his astonishing perception. She also confided that her tenant had barely been able to move at all before the healing, and was therefore now almost cured. Everyone agreed that they had been most privileged to witness the demonstration.

No sooner had the last guest departed than Louisa was busy drawing up a new list of names. Mina had earlier advised her mother that her visit to Dr Hamid's baths had brought her some relief from her accustomed discomfort, and Louisa had initially shown no great interest in this fact, but now she asked Mina if at the next gathering she might take a turn about the room, and say how her pain had diminished.

‘But the company will surely form the impression that any benefit I gained was due not to Dr Hamid's establishment but Mr Bradley,' Mina protested.

‘Really, Mina, how can you even know that that is not the case?' said her mother dismissively. ‘And I do not ask you to do it for Mr Bradley, I ask you to do it for
me
. Is that too great a trouble for you? It seems so.'

‘Of course, I will do as you ask,' said Mina, resignedly, wondering how she could possibly avoid it.

‘And if Dr Hamid is so very clever,' added Louisa, ‘then how has he not healed his own sister, who is, so I have been informed, in a great state? Perhaps I should send Mr Bradley to see
her
.'

Mina clamped her lips shut before she said anything unwise and decided not to mention her invitation to take tea with the Hamids on the following day.

D
r Hamid and his family lived in a pleasant villa in Charles Street, not far from the Marine Parade. A maid conducted Mina to a parlour where she was greeted by Anna and her brother. It was a house of mourning, but there was a tasteful restraint about the display, which Mina thought was not about outward show or fashion but deep and privately held feeling. The mantelpiece was simply draped in black, and a framed memorial card was placed beside a black-bordered portrait of a lady, undoubtedly the late Jane Hamid, who looked out across the room with a serene and intelligent expression. Other pictures, also in black frames, showed a venerable gentleman of Indian extraction, with a round face and kindly eyes, and an elderly lady, dignified and handsome; undoubtedly Dr Hamid's parents.

On a small table was a collection of pictures in pretty silver frames of three young people at various ages, the most recent one being of two fine-looking youths and a girl.

‘I see you are admiring our portraits,' said Anna with a smile, when the usual politenesses had been exchanged, and refreshments served.

‘These are very charming young people,' said Mina.

‘Jacob is twenty, now,' said Dr Hamid. ‘He is in Edinburgh studying to be a surgeon. My two youngest are at school in London. Nathan is eighteen and will soon join his brother in the study of medicine. My daughter Davina is fifteen and, if her wishes can be met, she will also take a medical degree at Edinburgh. There is at present a most unwarranted prejudice in England against women practising medicine, which I hope will be overcome in time.' He looked proudly at the pictures, his eyes naturally moving on to cloud over as they gazed at the portrait of his late wife.

‘You are very advanced in your thinking,' said Mina.

He smiled. ‘How could I not be with such examples before me? My mother was a very wise and educated lady, as was my late wife, as are both my sisters. I cannot ignore what is plain to see.'

‘I am very happy that you have agreed to call on Eliza,' said Anna, warmly. ‘She is normally solitary and, although she will protest that she prefers to be so, I am not altogether convinced of it. She hardly ever ventures downstairs but keeps to her room. Of course we spend as much time as we can with her, and there is a maid to see to her wants, but she really has no friends.'

Mina put her teacup down. ‘I would be delighted to see her.'

‘She has just taken her afternoon nap, and is now expecting you. I will take you to her.' Anna conducted Mina upstairs, and knocked on a door. ‘Eliza, here is Miss Scarletti to see you.'

There was a brief wait then the door opened. Mina had prepared herself with a determination to show neither pity nor cloying kindness, both of which she abhorred, guessing that any sister of Dr and Anna Hamid would feel the same. In a moment she realised that whatever the expression on her face, it would have made no difference to the woman who stood before her. Eliza, leaning heavily upon a stout stick, was the only adult Mina had ever seen who was smaller than herself. The little woman's body was so distorted that the curve of her spine had lifted her right shoulder higher than her head, which was forced forward on a downward sloping neck so that its normal position was with the face looking down to the floor. The left shoulder was rotated so that it rested several inches below the right and, while the necessarily loose and shapeless gown concealed it, Mina knew that the left side of Eliza's body must be collapsed and atrophied to a degree that she herself would hopefully never experience. The unfortunate woman's ribs were almost certainly pressing into her lungs and possibly even constricting the action of her heart. Suddenly Mina saw that her own body, her young strong body in which she could achieve all that she wanted to do in life, was a wonderful blessing to her, and that her inconsequential S of a spine could only mock with its comparatively mild displacement the crushed form of Eliza Hamid. Mina had never intended it, but tears started in her eyes. Anna glanced at her, concerned, and Mina knew that if she faltered now she had failed everyone. She took a deep breath. ‘Miss Hamid, I am most delighted to meet you.'

Eliza lifted her head with an effort, and for several moments a searching gaze took in the person before her. ‘Please do come in,' she said. ‘Anna, please ask Mary to send up some refreshments. I do so hope there are almond biscuits.'

‘Of course,' said Anna.

Mina followed Eliza into a sitting room, where a small couch, heaped with quilts and pillows, was undoubtedly the only location where the occupant could sleep in comfort. There was a low easy chair, which was provided with a special cushion, angled so that when Eliza was seated her body tilted back and she could see the person who was with her without having to strain her neck. Even so, Mina could see that it would be hard for Eliza to maintain her position without assistance, since her head was of normal size, and the neck not strong enough to support it for long. As she wondered at this, Eliza indicated where she should sit, and prodding the tip of her stick into a groove on the side of the chair, and placing one foot on a low stool, stepped neatly, almost nimbly, into position. When she was comfortably settled she placed a padded collar around her neck, and rested her chin on it. Mina could only admire her hostess's independence, the confidence with which she inhabited her confined yet comfortable world.

From the portraits in the parlour below Mina could see that Anna most closely resembled her father, whereas Dr Hamid and Eliza both had the oval face and sculpted cheekbones of their mother. Mina had been told that Eliza was fifty, twice her own age, but pain and the constant fight to draw breath had drawn savage lines in her otherwise youthful skin.

‘And now,' said Eliza, ‘let us talk, and I hope there will be no mention of joints or spines or bones, or any discomfort at all.'

‘I agree,' said Mina. ‘That can be so tedious.' She looked about her. The room was well supplied with books, and there was a table at Eliza's elbow with an open volume, a pile of newspapers, and a pair of spectacles. ‘But I can see that you are a great reader, and we will not want for interesting subjects for our conversation.'