The Seance

The Séance

It’s band practice night. We normally meet up at about 7 pm at Neil’s house. Neil is our bass player, and his mum and dad let us practise there. He is a bit of a mummy’s boy, which is probably why his parents like us to come here, so they can keep an eye on him. Incidentally, his dad is our self-appointed manager. He gets us gigs and drives us to them.

The drummer is Andy, but he doesn’t come every week, because of the noise he makes. We’ve only been playing for a couple of years, except for Andy. He’s only been playing for 7 months. We’re getting better, but it seems to be an uphill struggle most of the time.

Tonight will be a little different, though. We are not actually practising. The power will be off because all the miners have gone on strike, so now we have power cuts nearly every day. We were going to cancel it, but Neil rang and told us to go around anyway. His parents will be out and his girlfriend, Kimberly, wants us to have a candle-lit seance. She will bring some cakes as well, to make it more enjoyable. To be honest, I didn’t really fancy it, but there was nothing better on offer; most of the pubs will be closed, anyway.

I got onto the bus and went upstairs so I could have a smoke. One of our mates was already up there, Dan Taylor. I went and sat beside him, and offered him a cigarette, which he declined, I’m pleased to say. I only have three left to last me till tomorrow. I asked where he was going. He told me he was going to Neil Butterworths. He’d been invited to a seance. I laughed out loud.

“Me too,” I said. We both laughed.

“Oh yes, you two are in the same band. What do you think this seance will be like?” he asked.

“Goodness knows. I’m not really sure what a seance is.” I replied.

We discussed it further until it was time to get off the bus. Seems we had a lot more questions than answers.

Neil greeted us at the door and invited us to go in. There was only him and Kimberly there. Dan asked if anyone else was coming. Neil said he’d invited three more people, two declined and one accepted but gave back word 20 minutes later.

The dining table was to be our venue for the evening. Kimberly had got it looking nice. The table was covered with a white tablecloth, very lacy and pretty. Around the outside of the table were cards with the letters of the alphabet, plus cards numbered 0 to 9. There was also a Yes and No card near the centre of the table. Also, in the centre of the table was a small, upturned sherry glass.

“Is this a weegee board?” asked Dan. “I thought we’d been invited to a proper Seance.”

“This will be a proper Seance,” replied Kimberly, rather curtly. “We will contact real spirits, plus I will write down what they say, so you should be able to check dates and places for authenticity. And the correct name, by the way, is a Ouija Board!”

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude or disparaging Kimberly. I always thought Ouija was a parlour game, trying to frighten people just for laughs, with somebody pushing the pointer, or glass in our case, spelling out scary messages.”

“I can assure you, Dan, that none of us here will be pushing or moving the glass. You can all put your finger on the glass individually to ensure nobody is cheating.”

“Right then, enough talking,” said Neil. “Let’s get on with it.”

We all sat around the table, one on each side, with Kimberly at the head. She turned the glass upside down, put her finger index finger on it, and then told us to place our index finger lightly on top of hers. Kimberly then enquired, “Is there anybody there?” No response. She asked again, adding, “please make your presence known to us.”

The glass started to move, slowly at first. It moved to Yes. “What is your name?” enquired Kimberly. The glass spelt out A L B E R T. I watched very closely as the glass moved to see who was moving it, but it was impossible with four fingers on it at once.

“Ok, very funny,” said Dan, probably the most sceptical of us all. “Who’s moving the glass?” We all answered “Not me!” at the same time.

“Dan, why don’t you put your finger on the glass first, and see if you notice somebody moving it?” Said Kimberley.

Dan did that, whilst Kimberly asked what year Albert had been born. To my amazement, the glass seemed to move noticeably quicker as it spelled out 1782. I asked if I could put my finger on the glass first and did so. Albert was asked where he had been born. The glass spelt out DULWICH.

I had noticed no one trying to move the glass, so asked if just Dan and I could try on our own. Dan went first. He asked when Albert had died and got an immediate answer of 1851.

Now it was my turn. I put my finger on the glass and asked “how old were you when you died?” Nothing happened. I asked, “Are you still here?” The glass immediately shot over to Yes. I quickly pulled my finger off the glass.

“Bloody Hell!” I exclaimed. “That felt spooky. It wasn’t me. The glass moved by itself.” Everybody had a little chuckle, but I suddenly felt very scared by the whole thing and didn’t want to continue anymore.

Kimberly went into the kitchen to make a pot of tea, then brought out some little iced fancies. There were eight in the box, so we all had a couple each, with a nice cup of tea. Whilst we drank our tea, Dan asked me why I acted so shocked when I was the only person holding the glass, and it moved. I told him I had been very surprised when the glass moved by itself. I thought it was all a game, that one of us four was actually moving the glass, taking it in turns. Then the glass moved very quickly by itself. I felt a bit frightened to think that this was an actual spirit, somebody’s ghost. I felt another chill come over me as I told him.

We cleared our plates and cups away, brushed the crumbs off the table and sat back down again. “Does anyone want to change places?” asked Kimberly. “And is everyone ok for me to carry on being spokesperson?” she continued. I said I would like to sit it out now, but Dan and Neil laughed at me for being babyish. “Spirits can’t hurt you; it’s living people you need to worry about.” Said Dan.

So, I joined in again, but with very mixed feelings. I was very anxious about whether I was doing something evil. It just felt very wrong; and very scary.

Nobody made it apparent any changes were needed, so we resumed with a new session. Kimberly thanked our previous visitors and said goodbye to them. She continued by inviting new visitors to our seance. It did not take long for another spirit to make its presence known.

This time, it was a woman. She was called Elizabeth but had always been known as Bes. She had been born in Stroud in 1821, and died in a railway crash in 1843, near Dudley in Birmingham. Kimberley wrote down all the information that she had been told by this spirit, then thanked her and told her to leave.

I was feeling a bit more comfortable now. It was just like watching the teleprinter on the football results on a Saturday afternoon, with everything being spelt out., one letter at a time.

Neil wanted a break to go to the toilet, so Dan and I teased him about going upstairs on his own. There might be more spirits lurking about.

When he returned, we started another session, with Kimberley asking the questions again. It seemed to be working okay, so why change it?

This time we got a French person, Jeanne, who had been born in 1412 in Domremy La Pucelle. When asked where that was, she said it was in France. Kimberly asked what her father was called. She spelt out Jacques. Kimberly also asked for her mother’s name, and the reply was Isabelle Romee.

Kimberly made sure she wrote all of these names and dates down, so we could look them up if we wanted to learn a bit more about them. Kimberly then asked how old she was when she died, and the answer 19 was given. Kimberly was quite shocked now, and paused for a few minutes, pondering.

“Are you the person who became known as Joan of Arc?” she asked. Yes, was the reply. Kimberly still seemed quite shocked. She looked like she didn’t believe what she was reading; plus she looked like she was getting cross. Suddenly she shouted out, “Prove it then!”

We all sat wondering what was going on. The glass moved three times around the table when all of us let go of the glass. Then the glass, with nobody touching it, spelt out a chilling message.

Like me you will burn.

“When?” asked Kimberly.

3 2 1

Suddenly Kimberly let out a very loud cry, and shouted, “I’m burning! I’m burning!” Neil grabbed her and put his arms around her to comfort her. After a couple of seconds, he let go, and shouted,

“She really is burning! Somebody get some water.”

Dan rushed into the kitchen, grabbed a cup of cold water, and threw it over Kimberly. It took a minute or two for her to feel better, for the burning sensation to stop.

“What did you do that for?” Shouted Kimberley.

We all looked at her, totally astonished.

In the days immediately after this all happened, Dan researched the names and dates Kimberly had written down. They all seemed to corroborate that it was indeed Joan of Arc. She had been burnt at the stake for heresy on the 30th of May 1431. She was only 19 years old.