Chapter Five
The splash of water came as a disorienting shock, and Dennis sat bolt upright, clawing at the ground. Elspeth was squatting in front of him, looking for all the world like a disapproving mother. “There’s no use sitting around all day, Doctor. Now get up.”
Dennis struggled to regain his feet, but slumped down again as a wave of disorientation hit him. He was surprised at how dizzy he felt. He had never passed out before and… Oh, god, he had passed out. He examined his surroundings through water-spotted glasses. He was in the hall outside the bedroom, and the door had been closed. Elspeth must have dragged him there after his sudden loss of consciousness.
“Is, uh… Is everything okay?” Dennis asked lamely. Elspeth put a hand on her hip, still holding an empty pitcher that was dripping onto the carpet.
“Well, your makeup is a bit smeared, but I daresay you can fix that pretty easily. Here,” she said, holding out a glass. “I expect you could use a proper drink.”
Dennis took an immediate gulp of the liquid, and realized too late that it was, in fact, gin. He coughed and sputtered, nearly spilling the rest of it. Not that it would have mattered, seeing as how he was seated in a widening puddle of water.
“I’m glad that one did the trick. I’d already splashed you once,” said Elspeth. Dennis touched his face, and examined the tinted substance that came away on his fingers. He looked up sheepishly, but Elspeth held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain anything, dear. Although you might want to use something waterproof next time.”
“You’re not… you’re not mad?” Dennis ventured. Elspeth answered with a laugh that was both warm and full of wisdom.
“Doctor, I’m fifty-three years old, and I’m dying of cancer. I’m not about to waste my time with feeling cross. Besides, do you really think that you’re the first flimflammer that Evy has done this to?”
“Flimflammer?” Dennis repeated. Then, upon second thought, he added “Evy?”
“Evelyn,” replied Elspeth. “It’s a family nickname. Now, come and have a sit-down.” She took the glass from his hand and led the way back into the foyer. Dennis made a second attempt at finding his feet, and managed to pull himself to attention without falling over.
“I’ll thank you to take your coat off first, so as not to get the seats all wet.” Elspeth pointed at a wooden coat rack next to the entrance. Feeling wholly out of his element, Dennis shed the soaked garment and hung it on one of the pegs. Then, not seeing any other viable course of action, he joined Elspeth back at the table.
“Look, I,” he began. He took a breath and exhaled as he sat down. “I’m sorry about the act, Ms. Palin, I just didn’t…” He trailed off, looking down at the table.
“Call me Elspeth, dear,” she said. “And I told you, there’s no need to explain.” She put the glass and the pitcher on the table, and then poured a cup of tea from the kettle. Once again, she dropped a cube of sugar into it, stirred for a moment, and passed it to Dennis. The tea was still warm, although not to the point of discomfort anymore. He drank it in two large swallows, trying to clear the stinging taste of alcohol from his throat.
“So,” started Elspeth again. “Do you think you can help me?”
Dennis’ eyes snapped up. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Do you think you can help me?” Elspeth asked again. Dennis shook his head in confusion.
“You know that I’m a fraud, and you still want my help?” he asked. “Why?” Elspeth poured herself another cup of tea before answering, and when she did, it took Dennis a moment to follow the shift in topic.
“She won’t remember this tomorrow, you know. She won’t even recognize you. Every day, her memory sort of… goes.” She dropped a sugar cube into her cup and stirred it. “There’s not much point in my trying anymore, since I’ve tried damn near everything. It seems to me that a fresh set of eyes might be able to come up with fresh solutions.” She held up a hand as Dennis opened his mouth to speak. “Let me finish, Doctor. I saw the way you watched the room when Evy popped in. You don’t miss much, save for maybe what’s right in front of you, and who can blame you for that?” She finished stirring and replaced the spoon on the silver tray.
Dennis sat and stared. He had heard the term “deer in headlights” more times than he could count, but had never expected to find himself in the path of an oncoming truck. Elspeth met his gaze solidly and with confidence, patiently expecting an answer.
“I don’t know anything about ghosts,” Dennis finally confessed. “I just tell people what they want to hear.”
“So tell me what I want to hear,” replied Elspeth. “Say you’ll help me.”
There was no desperation in her voice, no pleading, only an open request. Dennis knew that if he refused, she would most likely bid him goodnight, and that he’d never hear from her again. He thought back on the events that had taken place in the bedroom. Part of his brain still insisted that this had to be a trick, but Dennis dismissed it. Everything had been too perfect, even including…
“My stone!” Dennis suddenly realized.
“Oh, yes, a neat little thing, that,” said Elspeth. She pulled the object out of a pocket and put it on the table. “I wasn’t sure what to make of it. It calmed down as soon as I pulled you from her room.”
Dennis reached forward and tentatively held the stone between his thumb and forefinger. It was silent now, but the memory of it vibrating still resonated in his grip. Ghosts and magic rocks, he thought grimly. His clients suddenly seemed more sane. He slid the stone into his pocket and looked back up at Elspeth.
“Look, I meant what I said about not knowing anything about all of this,” he said. “My name isn’t even ‘September.’ It’s –”
“Dennis Goofy Hat, I know,” interrupted Elspeth. She nodded at the table, where Dennis noticed his wallet. “I hope you don’t mind. I went looking for your ID when you fainted.”
“Why?”
“To make sure you weren’t allergic to gin,” Elspeth said. Her smile said that she was joking, but Dennis couldn’t be sure. He took his wallet from the table, not even bothering to check if its contents were intact.
“It’s Gufehautt, actually,” said Dennis. Admittedly, it did sound very similar to the way that Elspeth had pronounced it, but he had tried desperately to leave the mocking nickname behind when he left high school.
“What should I call you, then?”
“You may call me what you wish,” Dennis replied automatically. “I mean… Sorry. Dennis is fine.” He felt an odd sensation on his chin, and discovered that some of the spilled alcohol had started dissolving the glue that held his beard on. Seeing no point in keeping an aspect of the ruined act, he reached up and pulled it off.
“Now, there’s a shame, I thought you looked nice with a beard,” said Elspeth. She sipped at her tea, her eyes not leaving Dennis’. “You still haven’t answered me, though. Will you help me?”
He was bumbling through uncharted territory. Clearly, the woman wasn’t in need of psychiatric help, and Dennis doubted that an explanation of his original purpose would dissuade her. Besides, Harding had made it clear that they should keep that bit of information as unmentioned. If he did take the case, so to speak, he would be on his own.
“Yes,” Dennis said, surprising himself slightly. “Yes, I’ll help you. I need a few days to get my head around this, but I’ll help you.” There, it was done, although he was still unsure if he had made the right decision. The last time he’d felt like this, he had just slid a letter under a prospective girlfriend’s door. As with then, though, it was too late to take it back. He could only hope that this attempt would yield more favorable results.
“Thank you,” said Elspeth. She reached behind the chair and brought out a white canvas purse, from which she pulled a thin checkbook. “Do you prefer to be paid by the hour?”
“Wait, what?” Dennis faltered. “I didn’t… I mean… You’re going to pay me?” Elspeth looked up again, and her face was a mirror of the
incredulous expression that her sister had worn earlier.
“Of course I am, Dennis. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to do this for nothing.” She scribbled something on a check, presumably Dennis’ name. “Will a thousand a week do?” Something caught in Dennis’ throat, and he let out a strained cough.
“Look, not to be rude, but… That’s very generous of you, but I really don’t need –”
“You’ll take it and that’s all there is to it,” said Elspeth firmly. Once again, Dennis felt like he was back in kindergarten. There was definitely something wrong with him, feeling like a check for a thousand dollars was some kind of punishment. Elspeth held it out for him, and he reluctantly accepted. “Now, when should I expect you back?”
“Uh… Wednesday,” Dennis replied. “I’ll come by first thing in the morning. Nine o’clock.”
“How do you like your eggs?”
Today was just a day for getting caught off guard, it seemed. “I’m sorry?”
Elspeth smiled with a trace of impatience. “I’m about through with repeating things to you, Dennis. I asked how you like your eggs.”
“Over easy,” he replied. And then, just because the situation could not get any stranger, he added: “With sourdough toast.”
“A man after my own heart,” said Elspeth. “Well, I’ll see you here at nine on Wednesday, then.” She stood and walked towards the door, and Dennis scrambled to follow her. She took down his damp overcoat and held it out, then opened the door as Dennis struggled to get his arms through the sleeves. He paused in the doorway and shifted his weight awkwardly as he glanced back towards Evy’s room.
“Should I say goodbye or something?”
“She won’t remember anyway.” The pair stood in the door for a moment longer. “Well, goodnight, Dennis.” She closed the door after him. He made it all the way back to the street before he threw up.
Nearly Departed Page 10
