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said Mrs Scott. ‘The fellow was no more a preacher than I am. He had one wife in Bradford and a second one in Newcastle, and probably other wives elsewhere. Certainly he had no intention of sending the money to Africa. He went to prison eventually, I am glad to say. It was reported in the papers. But Julia never saw her money again.’
    â€˜And now another preacher has appeared?’
    â€˜Not exactly. This time it is one of those spiritualists who claim to be in touch with the departed. A gentleman called Eustace Flask. Apparently he is making a name for himself in Yorkshire and Durham. And your aunt has fallen under his spell.’
    â€˜You make him sound like a magician,’ said Tom.
    â€˜I wish he were,’ said Mrs Scott. ‘At least magicians are honest. They make a virtue of their trickery.’
    â€˜Where is the harm in Aunt Julia consulting a medium?’ said Helen. ‘Plenty of people visit mediums.’
    â€˜No doubt; but they aren’t usually told to hand over their fortunes.’
    Yes, here comes the money, thought Tom, helping himself to another piece of anchovy toast. Helen said, ‘I knew Aunt Julia was well-off but I didn’t know she had a fortune.’
    â€˜I may exaggerate but not much. Julia has always been lucky with money even though she knows nothing about it. Indeed, I sometimes think she is lucky precisely because she is ignorant. Our father left each of us girls a small but adequate sum when he died but only Julia managed to make it grow by investing it in – oh I don’t know what – in the railways and mining stock and the like. And I believe she did no more than put a pin in a list in the newspaper! She puts her good fortune down to Providence. The result is that she is thoroughly comfortable and never has to lift a finger and I am glad for her because there is nothing worse than a crabbed old spinster living in poverty. But I almost wish she were poor because then she would not be preyed on by these tricksters!’
    Mrs Scott took up the ham sandwich again and tore into it with as much vigour as if she were savaging the leg of a trickster. Helen glanced at Tom. Her glance said, this is serious. When her mother had swallowed the sandwich and regained a bit of control, she went on, ‘Now this Eustace Flask person has persuaded your Aunt Julia that he is in touch with the spirit of our late father, and that he is instructing Julia to treat Flask like a son. The son she might have had if she were married! The spirit says that Flask is to be provided with a very generous allowance. She has already given him a handful of small cheques. It is an outrage!’
    â€˜Have some more tea, mother,’ said Helen and she fussed over the pot and strainer and milk jug so as to give Mrs Scott time to calm down.
    Eventually, Mrs Scott said, ‘I am sorry, my dears, but I am very indignant over this. It is not so much that Julia is throwing away her money on a charlatan. It is that this wretched Flask person is invoking father in order to trick her. Helen, you can scarcely remember your Howlett grandfather, I suppose?’
    â€˜Not much, I’m afraid. An upright gentleman with tickly whiskers.’
    â€˜Yes, that will do. An upright gentleman. He would have had no time for these mediums and spiritualists if they had existed in his day. He would have called them humbugs. I can hear him saying the word now. So it is especially insulting that this wretch should invoke my father and pretend to be receiving instructions from him over on the other side. Thomas, would you mind bringing me that box?’
    Tom went to a sideboard and brought back a little box which Mrs Scott unfolded on her lap to reveal a portable writing-block. Inside there was a flat baize-covered surface and holders for pens and an inkpot. Mrs Scott opened a compartment beneath the green baize and took out an envelope. From it she extracted a photograph which she passed