Free The Various Haunts of Men by Susan Hill

she had to hold on to the table edge, catching her breath. Pauline glanced at her sharply but said nothing until they were sitting beside the fire, the drop scones had been eaten and they were on their second cups of tea.
    ‘I put a pinch of bicarbonate of soda in drop scones … my mother always did and I don’t know why but it does make them tastier, don’t you think?’
    Iris Chater looked affectionatelyacross at her friend. ‘I don’t know what I’d have done without you these pastfew weeks. And all the time Harry was ill. I wish there was something I could do for you, Pauline.’
    ‘There is.’
    ‘You’ve only to ask. You know that much, I should hope.’
    ‘Right. I want you to take those knees of yours back to the doctor, and don’t start saying they’re not so bad because I know they are.’
    ‘No, I meantdo something for
you
, Pauline.’
    ‘I know you did. Now, what did Dr Deerbon say last time?’
    ‘Oh, the old story, waiting list for an operation, only apparently knees aren’t as successful as hips, she said. And tablets for the pain.’
    Iris was not going to admit that her arthritic knees had not been mentioned to the doctor. Where was the point? They were a lot worse, the pain was sharper and alwaysthere, but what she had told Pauline was true, it would be a question of a waiting list for goodness knows how long and the strong painkillers that upset her stomach. She could buy aspirin for herself.
    ‘Go back then. Tell her you’re not satisfied, ask her to get you on to the urgent list.’
    ‘There are plenty worse than me.’
    ‘Hm.’
    Iris reached forward to pour a last half-cup of tea from thepot.
    ‘Harry’s still here, you know,’ she said.
    Pauline smiled. ‘Well, of course he is … he’s looking after you, always will.’
    ‘I mean here, in this room. It startles me sometimes. Only I want to … see him, I want to hear him … not just feel it. Am I going daft?’
    ‘You?’
    ‘It’s such a comfort, Pauline. I don’t want it to fade away.’
    The room was warm. The lamplight caught a row of brass monkeyson the shelf, and made them glow.
    ‘Have you ever, you know, thought of going to see someone?’
    ‘How do you mean?’
    ‘One of those spiritualists? A medium.’
    Hearing Pauline speak aloud the idea that had been in her own mind made her flush and her heart jump.
    ‘A lot of people do, a lot say they’re really … well, that they do have a gift.’
    ‘Have you ever been to one?’
    ‘Never had occasion really.Anyway, it was only a thought.’
    ‘I’d be afraid.’
    ‘What of?’
    ‘Just … it would upset me.’ She looked down at her cup. ‘My grandmother used to read the tea leaves.’
    ‘Oh, so did mine. They all did then, didn’t they? Load of rubbish.’
    ‘Oh yes.’
    Yet when Grandma Bixby had described the man Iris was to marry, before she’d ever set eyes on Harry Chater, she’d got him just right, everything abouthim, looks, manners, line of work, family, everything. She’d got it right that they’d have no children, years before they’d had to give up hope.
    ‘Besides,’ she said, ‘how would I go about finding one? I’d want to be careful.’
    ‘There’s that spiritualist church in Passage Street. They might have a noticeboard.’
    ‘I never like the look of that place, it’s a bit of a Nissen hut.’
    ‘Well, you wouldn’twant to go to one of those that come round the hotels … the Deer Park sometimes has them. They put a board out … “An Evening of Clairvoyance and Psychic Fair” and all that. Madame Rosita, all gold earrings. They’re just a joke.’
    ‘They take people’s money though.’
    Pauline started putting the tea things on to the tray. ‘I suppose it’s like anything else … you need someone to recommend, don’t you?I’ll ask about a bit. Now, do you want to come in later and watch
The Weakest Link
?’
    ‘I won’t tonight, Pauline, I’ve a few bits to do.’
    ‘Well, if you change your