Dave, Martin and Marvin were there. As was Mrs Collingwood from number 47 (Mrs McNulty’s bingo partner) and Mr Paxton, who was introduced to us all as a big wheel in the haberdashery trade. Mrs McNulty looked solemnly at us, recited a protection prayer (which I’m pretty sure was actually just the lyrics to ‘Your Love is King’ by Sade), and ‘because you can never be too careful’, proceeded to sprinkle us all with salt.

We were invited to place a finger upon the planchette and the farce began. ‘Is anybody there?’ We waited. Not a thing. Mrs McNulty entreated us to vanquish all negative energy from the room and we tried once more. Still nothing. Bored now, my mind began to wander. I thought about the Leamington Spa PowerPoint. I made a mental note to start reading Voltaire’s Candide for this month’s book group. I remembered Toby Salt’s tweet from earlier, in which he’d announced that tickets for his Saffron Walden event had now sold out. I imagined him in one of Saffron Walden’s smaller venues: the back room of the village hall, perhaps. The bay window of a tea shop. A potting shed.

The planchette was moving across the board. Slowly at first, then more quickly: B-E-W-A-R-E, it said. Mrs McNulty became noticeably aroused. W-H-Y, we responded. There was another pause before the block began to move wildly from one letter to the next: D-E-A-T-H-I-S-C-O-M-I-N-G. More gasps from Mrs McNulty. She couldn’t help herself: T-O-W-H-O.

It should have been T-O-W-H-O-M but I didn’t like to interrupt. After a brief lull, the planchette set off again to the left – B – before lurching down to the right – R – further along and up again – I – heading back left, and then . . . my phone rang:

‘P-P-I’. Had I been mis-sold it?

I disposed of the caller in summary fashion, but Mrs McNulty was unimpressed. Apparently, I’d ‘destroyed the circle of trust’ we’d established in the room, and the spirit had been frightened off.

She was still angry with me when I left thirty minutes later, although the look she gave seemed mixed with something else. Fear, perhaps? Or pity? Still, the evening had proved entertaining and I went to bed thinking about all the things beginning with BRI-that might have death coming to it: British industry, Britney Spears’ career, Bristol Cream consumption, briar pipe usage.

Monday February 19th

This is just to say

I have eaten

the custard creams

that were in

my hotel room

and which

have probably

been here

since last Christmas

Forgive me

they were delicious

so custardy and creamy

and so soft

Leamington Spa! Home of the Royal Pump Rooms and Baths! Birthplace of Randolph ‘Randy’ Turpin! Pioneer of lawn tennis! Setting for the 1990s BBC sitcom Keeping Up Appearances!