It was quite a squeeze in the dining room, which meant everyone had to sit uncomfortably close to each other around the table. Alice was sandwiched between the Professor on one side and Mike on the other. Being so close to Mike might not have been unpleasant except for the fact that the all the dining room chairs were taken already, save for one at the head of the table reserved for the medium. As a result, Mike was perched on an old, rickety stool, which made him look like a little boy sitting at the grown-up's table. This also meant that his head was the same level as Alice's chest and Mike was making a gallant effort not to look in her direction if he could help it. She tried not to let this amuse her too much.
She remembered one or two of the pensioners from previous meetings and they had made halting introductions all round. The Professor, it seemed, was much better at charming old ladies than younger ones and Alice was beginning to think it wasn't such a bad idea that he had come along. Except that Mike had to sit on a little stool now. No one had probed their cover stories. Everyone around the table was much too anxious for the main event to begin to start any serious conversations.
The door opened and old Mrs. Baker came in, leaning on her walking cane. She took a moment or two to settle herself in a chair on the opposite side of the table. Then the unimposing Joseph Tibbs entered; all smiles, cheerfulness and gypsy charm.
Medium or fraud, whatever he turned out to be, Alice was determined that she would have proof of it that evening.
YOU ARE READING
Sleeping Dogs Lie
ParanormalJoe is a mystic, a medium, a speaker for the dead. He's clever and full of gypsy charm. But what is he really, and what will be the consequences of finding out?
