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Fiction Mystery

Lucy heard the clunk of the letter box and got up from the breakfast table, half a slice of toast in one hand. Three envelopes lay on the mat. Two formal looking ones, addressed to her mum, which probably contained boring grown up bills or bank statements and a third addressed to her. Apart from birthday cards Lucy never really had mail until her Grandmother died last April. Since then the letters came every month without fail. The envelopes were hand written and sealed with a lily, stamped into gold wax.


Lucy brought the post back to the kitchen and passed her mother’s letters to her while sitting down to open her own. She knew exactly what to expect, but enjoyed the idea that someone had taken the time to write to her all the same.


Dear Lucy,


You don’t know me, and I don’t mean to intrude, but I knew your grandmother, Evelyn Conroy. Evelyn was a regular client of mine and after her passing she got a message to me, asking that I put you back in touch one last time. She was a great story teller but felt that only you really listened, only you really believed. She swore her stories were true and said that the secret proof would only be revealed directly to you, as she felt that you took the most joy in hearing them.

To enable me to make contact once again with your dear departed grandmother I need you to visit me and bring with you something she cherished. The red, rose-shaped candle she gave you on your twelfth birthday. We will need to burn it together to raise her spirit and allow her to pass on her knowledge to you.


Yours faithfully,

Madame Lily Fenwick

Psychic and Medium


The envelope also contained a business card with an address in the city centre and a land line phone number.


 ‘Oh not another one Lucy! Put it straight in the bin. I keep telling you, these people are only after money, it’s all a big sham.’ Claire said.


‘But Gran did see a psychic, you know she did, maybe this is the one.’


‘I have no doubt it is the one, that doesn’t make it any less of a fraud. I can’t believe my own mother was so taken in by it and I won’t allow my daughter to be exploited too.’


‘Gran wouldn’t set me up to be taken advantage of, look Madame Lily knows about the rose candle, Gran obviously did ask her to contact me.’


‘Honestly Lucy, these people are just tricksters. Flashing lights and music playing and tables shaking, it’s all set up in advance. They research you, they know what you want to hear to keep you coming back. This Madame Lily, if that’s even her real name, will have got all kinds of details from your Gran before she died. She’ll no doubt amaze you with what she knows and be very convincing but then she’ll just keep asking for money. It’s wrong to exploit people’s grief, it shouldn’t be encouraged.’


‘Not this again?’ Lucy’s dad entered the room, straightening his tie.


‘Will you talk to her please Dave? I can’t seem to get the message through.’


Claire finished her orange juice, put her crockery in the sink and went upstairs to find her shoes.


‘Your mum’s right you know. It’s all a big con.’


‘So what if Madame Lily does ask for money? Proof that Gran’s stories were true is worth paying for!’


‘Your Gran’s stories were not true!’


‘I bet they were. Her house was really old and creepy, it probably was full of ghosts and demons along with the creaks and shadows. And what if there really is hidden treasure for anyone who defeats the evil spirit? Some of the details must be verifiable. Like maybe there really is a key with an apple shaped handle that opens a secret door.’


‘There’s no guarantee this psychic will verify anything. She’ll probably just take our money, flash a few lights on and off and go into a trance. Then she’ll say that your Gran is happy but there isn’t a strong enough connection to get any details. Then she’ll invite us back to pay her again next week. Hidden treasure indeed…’


‘What’s happening with Gran’s house at the moment?’


‘It’s still there, locked up on the edge of town. I should really call the Estate Agent again, this one doesn’t seem to be having any more luck selling it than the first one did.’


‘That’s because it’s haunted.’


‘Don’t talk such rubbish. And as for apple shaped keys I’m pretty sure they were all part of the make believe, along with the poisonous frogs in the garden pond and the rattling chains in the attic. Now, you’re going to be late for school, we can talk more about it in the car.’


The following week Lucy had more post, birthday cards. Her aunts and uncles had, as always, sent cash and when Lucy counted it up she was sixty pounds in pocket. Probably enough to pay a psychic.


‘Have you decided yet what you would like to do for your birthday? I know you’re not one for parties, but we should mark it with something, you’re fifteen now.’ Dave ruffled Lucy’s hair as she finished her toast.


‘Well, there is one thing. But you won’t like it.’


‘Try me.’


‘I want to go and see Madame Lily.’


‘Wouldn’t you rather we go ice skating? Or to the cinema? You could invite a couple of friends, it’ll be fun.’ Her dad sat down next to her.


‘Maybe we should take her Dave, it might put a stop to the letters at least and she can see how much of a scam it all is for herself.’


‘Let’s think about it and decide over dinner. Still want that Chinese?’


‘Oh yes please, can we get the crispy duck?’


‘Of course we can. I’ll book a table. And, as promised, we’ve kept your presents ‘til tonight.’


‘No point rushing them over breakfast!’ they all said together. Lucy giggled.


Three nights later Dave’s car pulled up outside an apartment block near the city centre and parked under a street light. They all got out, pulling their coats round them and skipping over the puddles. Claire made it to the street door first, lowered her umbrella and ran her eyes down the doorbell buttons. Number thirteen. Written in neat italics, matching those on Lucy’s letters, was the name Madame Lily.


‘Right, here goes.’ Claire said as she pressed the bell.


A woman’s voice came through the intercom and welcomed them in.


‘I’m on the second floor.’


Being inside Madame Lily’s apartment did nothing to convince Lucy’s parents that she was genuine. The door opened into a large living room that was the epitome of psychic cliché. A circular table sat in the middle of the room with a tasselled red velvet table cloth over it. A dim light hung low over the centre of the table with a silk scarf clinging around it for effect. There were lamps around the room but none of them were lit, leaving plenty of dark corners and the heavy curtains were closed, blocking out any illumination from the street lights or the moon. A wooden unit to one side of the room held an aging stack-style stereo system which appeared to include a tape deck and record player alongside an analogue radio. Shelves against the far wall seemed to hold a range of books, a few ornaments depicting angels, Buddhas, various flowers and Dave could just make out a crystal ball on a stand.


Madame Lily herself wore a long dark green skirt with tiny mirrors sewn into the fabric and a black shawl which covered most of her torso and arms. She had wild black hair partially tamed by a multi coloured head scarf tied at the back of her neck, large hoop earrings and at least one silver ring on every finger. Her heavy eye make up only added to her stereotyped appearance and Claire had a hard time not smiling as her expectations were met one after another.


‘Now, all be seated and we shall begin. I trust you brought Evelyn’s rose candle?’


‘Yes Madame Lily, it’s in my pocket.’ Lucy found the candle and placed it carefully in front of herself on the table.


‘You must understand that this candle is the only clear link we have to Evelyn’s spirit. Once we burn it there may not be a second chance to contact her. It’s important you don’t let this opportunity pass you by.’


‘We’ll do as you say.’ Lucy was transfixed on Madame Lily’s face, she hardly noticed the flash of lightning or the increase in intensity of the pelting rain against the window.


Madame Lily produced a small glass plate and tucked it under the candle before lighting the wick and turning out the lamp that hung over the table. Dave studied his watch, it was exactly eight pm. Then they all held hands in a circle.


‘Everyone must focus on the flame, focus on the flame and bring an image of Evelyn to your mind, make it bright and clear.’ Madame Lily said.


They all stared hard at the candle for a few minutes as small droplets of molten wax started to form in the centre and the perfect shape of the carved rose began to melt away.


‘Evelyn. Evelyn Conroy. If you are here let us know your presence.’


Dave rolled his eyes in Claire’s direction and squeezed her hand, it was all she could do not to giggle.


‘Evelyn Conroy, I call upon your soul tonight, I invoke your spirit to this room.’


The light above the table flickered briefly and then came on. Lucy gripped her mother’s hand, it was working.


‘Evelyn Conroy, we gather here tonight for you to reveal your secrets to us. You wanted your family to have proof of your stories, give us a sign if this is correct.’


The radio at the side of the room clicked on and the dial slid from left to right, right to left, different stations tuning in and out as it travelled until it settled on a very particular song. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds played for a few moments and the volume increased as the song went on.


‘Your message is for Lucy? Specifically for Lucy?’ asked Madame Lily.


The light flashed twice.


‘And what do you want to tell her?’


The radio dial shifted again, stations buzzed in and out of coherence until one was chosen and a posh female voice could be heard, speaking loud and clear in the night.


‘And this evening’s first Object For Observation is a rather unusual antique key. It has a handle in the shape of a cherry and once belonged to a grand old house. Elaborate keys like this were often made to open secret rooms. The cherry could be a clue that the door is made of cherry wood for example. Stuart is going to tell us more about it and where he thinks it came from…’ the radio volume dropped until the voices could no longer be heard and the light flashed again.


‘So there is a key!’ Lucy said ‘But Gran always said hers had an apple shaped handle.’


‘Don’t get over excited Darling, even if there is a key we have no idea where to look for it.’ Dave said with a sigh.


‘How might Lucy find the key?’ asked Madame Lily.


The radio dial turned again and settled on a play but the volume was very low and they all strained to hear the words. After a few seconds of mumbled speech from the speakers the volume suddenly increased and the line ‘It’s right before your eyes!’ was exclaimed by one of the actors.


‘But there’s nothing on the table except the candle.’ Lucy said, looking at her mum with a puzzled expression.


‘Don’t worry my Love, we weren’t expecting to find anything were we, not really.’


A lamp in one corner of the room switched on and illuminated a section of shelving with several books piled up on their sides. Just one was standing straight up and the light glanced off the spine. Lucy read the title out loud.


‘Faith in the Family! Gran is asking us to trust her.’


‘Oh Lucy that’s taking it a bit far now.’ Dave said, a touch of concern in his voice.


‘Where does the key fit Gran? Where do we take it?’ asked Lucy.


The radio gabbled as the dial turned once more and then settled on a song. The lyrics were clear before it faded out again ‘In the white room, with black curtains, near the station…’


‘That’s an old Cream song.’ Said Dave.


‘It’s about Gran’s living room! That was a white room with black curtains and the bus station was just round the corner. I bet there’s a cellar under the floor or a hidden passage in the panelling!’


‘Lucy doesn’t it all seem a bit too convenient that that exact song played? I’m sorry Madame Lily, I don’t mean to offend, I just can’t help but be a little sceptical about all this.’


‘I understand Mr Benson, I take no offence. Lucy, do you have any other questions for your grandmother?’


‘How do we find the secret door?’


The radio sprung into life again and Lucy waited patiently for the dial to settle, when it did it stopped on another song ‘You better knock knock knock on wood…’


‘Oh this is too much!’ said Claire ‘I’m very sorry Madame Lily, but I don’t think we should take up any more of your time, please let me pay you, I think it’s time we left.’ And she let go of Dave’s hand, breaking the circle.


‘But Mum!’


The lights flashed energetically and the candle flame flickered, the radio dial swung from side to side but just produced static and the record player began to spin. Claire stood up, found her purse in her handbag and placed a small pile of bank notes on the table in front of Madame Lily. Madame Lily let go of Dave and Lucy’s hands and stood up too, bowing her head towards Claire.


‘I’m sorry you haven’t found the session compelling, I do hope it has brought at least a little comfort to Lucy. I will be here if you want to try again but the candle will probably not work a second time.’


‘Thank you Madame Lily, thank you so much for all your help.’ Said Lucy.


‘Thank you for your time. Good evening.’ Said Dave as he headed for the door, followed swiftly by Claire and reluctantly by Lucy.


The corridor outside the apartment was surprisingly dark, there were green emergency lights that just about enabled the family to see the stairs, but not much more. The three of them held on to the hand rails as they descended to the ground floor. A tall man, shivering and dripping with rain was coming in to the building off the street and they held the door for him.


‘It’s pretty dark on the stairs, do mind how you go.’ Dave said.


‘Ah yes, the whole city is out. Power cut, probably because of the storm.’


‘What time did the power go off?’ asked Dave.


The tall man looked at his watch. ‘Oh it’s been a while, maybe just after eight.’


Claire, Dave and Lucy stepped out onto the pitch dark street and used the torches on their phones to find the car.


‘I knew it was real. Lights don’t work in a power cut and radios don’t play.’ Lucy said as she strapped herself into the back seat. ‘And now we’ll never find the key because you made us leave early.’


‘There is no key Lucy, I don’t know how she did it but it’s a con. She just wants us to go back and pay her again. And I hate to say it but chasing after your Gran’s stories is futile anyway, she was full of tall tales and you really need to take everything she said with a pinch of salt.’


‘So much for faith in the family!’


Dave switched the CD player on and hit the “random” button. The chorus of Would I Lie To You? by the Eurythmics blasted out into the car. Dave switched the CD player off. Lucy scowled all the way home.


Two days later Lucy stood up from the breakfast table and went to collect the post. On the mat lay a flier for a local window cleaning company, something boring addressed to her dad and a padded envelope, with her own name in neat italics above the address and a gold wax seal with a lily stamped in it. Not wanting her parents to know that Madame Lily had sent her anything for fear they would confiscate it, Lucy left the other items where they had fallen and took her own envelope to her room. She wolfed down her remaining piece of toast, wiped her buttery fingers on her jeans and carefully opened the package.


Inside was a handwritten note;


Dear Lucy,


When you left the other night the power was out so I let the candle burn to light the room a little. After about half an hour a metal object appeared hidden in the wax. I thought you might like to have it.


Yours faithfully,

Madame Lily Fenwick

Psychic and Medium


Lucy felt inside the envelope and there at the bottom was a key with a handle in the shape of an apple. 

May 05, 2021 19:39

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