Kitty and Ada- Short Stories.

6. Loss of Communication

As summer passed, the nights drew in and the days grew colder. With it there seemed to be a haunting sensation in the air, one that I couldn't describe easily and left me feeling as though something was approaching. It was the feeling you get when at last a day is over and the sky is darkening outside the window. You draw the curtain to shut out the darkness but it's as though it followed you inside and a strange awareness of something ending is upon you. The day is no more, the summer has gone and there's somehow less time.

Ada had not received any messages for a month and somehow it felt a bad omen. It was the end of October before I, along with Ada's friends Patrick and Bertie, finally persuaded her to use her Ouija board and also join a séance for the first time since Robert's death. We were getting nowhere with the normal methods and I admit I was in haste to find some answers. Deep down I was so afraid. Ada not receiving a message filled me with many doubts and I hoped and hoped this was not the end of the secret we shared together.

We'd picked All Hallows Eve to be the big séance night as Bertie informed us that that particular evening had the thinnest thread between our world and that of the beyond- and that we were most likely to get a spirit coming through. Quite how Bertie, a boyish, fair-haired bank clerk who wore cardigans teamed with red bow-ties knew so much about the dark side of life was anyone's guess. As for Patrick, it was hard for me to picture the sensible Police Sergeant Mulgrew being so invested in a movement that believed in such things. The two men were outsiders in a way though, that was clear to see, and their differences in temperament to each other only seemed to make them closer. Bertie was witty, humble and whimsical and Patrick sterner, fiercely intelligent and the one making all the decisions. They were never apart except in work duties and even then, Ada told me they would always find time to meet for lunch in the park or leave notes in each other's work satchels, reminding each other to take care and have a good day.

I'd come to the conclusion that the more I saw of Patrick and Bertie the more I admired them and it was also good to have spiritualist allies, ones who might just one day believe the things Ada was experiencing. It was hard keeping such a big secret and I was cracking under the strain. The more friends I had, the better I felt.

And so, we gathered on All Hallows Eve at our home, dressed in black ready to contact the dead. I admit I was nervous as I'd never attended a séance before and I had no idea what to expect. I greeted Patrick and Bertie as they arrived arm in arm and led them into the room. Joining us were two other ladies- one who was to conduct the proceedings- and also another gentleman, a man Ada and Robert had known for many years who was the most experienced in spiritualist matters and had been the one to set-up this particular meeting group.

We sat together around the oak table in the centre and held hands. In our all-black ensembles, we already looked like a band of the dead- so pale and funereal. Ada seemed apprehensive, after all, it had taken some persuading to re-introduce her to the old ways and she glanced constantly at the empty chair beside her which had been Robert's. Noticing her discomfort, I spotted Patrick squeezing her hand.

It's hard to describe what happened next. Unlike the very real and powerful messages in Ada's head, this séance felt more like a show to me- over the top and fake in some way. We were there to contact Bertie's father but we were unsuccessful as instead another 'ghost' came through who no-one seemed to recognise and who I doubted was a real spirit at all. The medium's calling to the spirits, to me, seemed more an act than genuine. I hated to be judgemental but whilst the others fell into the trap, I felt uncomfortable. Ada was the true medium among us, she had the power. This woman was an impostor, spouting off nonsense words to something that was clearly not there. As I glanced at Ada, I noticed she seemed to be enjoying it and I sensed she felt stronger in a group. If only I could convince her she was also strong alone and with me. She had a real gift and she didn't need this charade. If only I had realised this earlier before I had badgered her into submitting.