Page 32 of Copper Script
“Oh.Really?”
“Possibility,” Aaron repeated.“I am not inclined to believe without evidence, but I won’t shut my eyes to what the evidence shows.”
“Not a Spiritualist either, then.”
“That’s a little harsh,” Aaron said.“A lot of Spiritualists aren’t unduly gullible, or wilfully blind to the truth.It’s a way to deal with grief.”
“And it offers them hope: I know that.But seeing a medium who claims they can speak to your dead son is like me going to a doctor who promises to grow my hand back.Sometimes you just have to live with things.”
He spoke with a sort of determined cheeriness that didn’t really mask strong feeling.Aaron said, “May I ask what happened?”
“To my hand?Oh, funny story: I was shaving, someone startled me...”
“What?”
Wildsmith rolled his eyes.“Stray Jerry bullet, you berk.”
“Where were you?”
“129 Field Ambulance.Flanders.Stretcher-bearer.I was waving for attention, and I got it.Took off most of the palm.There were a couple of carpal bones left, the ones at the base of the hand, and they thought they could save something but after a lot of faffing about—infection, whatnot—they gave up and removed the rest.It was relatively tidy as these things go and the forearm bones were undamaged.Could be worse.”
Aaron didn’t like to think how much time and pain the ‘faffing about’ had entailed.“I’m sorry.”
“Worse things happen at sea.Well, you’d know: you were Navy.Where?”
“Grand Fleet, in the North Sea.Blockade work.”
“How was it?”
“Cold and wet, mostly.After Jutland, Jerry didn’t make much effort to break the blockade.We were twiddling our thumbs for the last couple of years.It had to be done, but...”He hadn’t wanted to be in the thick of desperate fighting: he wasn’t insane.But he had undeniably felt guilty about finding himself in a relatively uneventful post when others were enduring so much worse.“It did rather feel like sitting around, sometimes.In a cold, wet, stormy sort of way.”
“They also serve who only sit and wait,” Wildsmith said.“I’m no tactician, but you don’t need to spend long at war to grasp the importance of supply lines.Talking of which, thanks, Aggie.”
That was to the waitress, as she brought their food and two mugs of tea.The steak pie was surprisingly good.Wildsmith made rapid inroads into his macaroni cheese, which Aaron had always considered nursery food.That impression wasn’t changed by seeing a grown man eat it with a spoon.
“Can you not use your device?”he asked.“To hold a knife, I mean?”
“I can, but I’ve been using it all day and I’m tired.Sometimes macaroni cheese is just easier.”
“There’s a good Italian place in Lisson Grove,” Aaron found himself saying.“They do a dish called ravioli, if you know it?Little parcels with meat inside.You could eat that with only a fork.”
“I’ll have to win this bet then.”Wildsmith glanced up as he said it, his pale brown eyes catching the light.They were still unsettling even with more acquaintance.You expected a man of his colouring to have green eyes, or blue, or dark brown; Wildsmith’s were too light and too dark at once.
“I dare say I could spring for somewhere a little fancier, if you win,” Aaron returned, because the thought of taking Joel Wildsmith to his little local place, just round the corner from his flat—
He needed to stop.“You said you had other questions,” he remarked, and shoved a forkful of steak and pastry in his mouth as a means to stop himself talking further.
“Did I?Probably.Can’t remember what they were.Oh, yes I can: why?”
Aaron still had a mouthful.“?”
“Why are you doing this?It can’t just be curiosity, unless you’re the most curious man alive.Are you trying to nail me for a fraud and hoping I’ll betray myself?Testing whether I believe my own publicity?Trialling me as that graphological consultant you mentioned?”
“Not that last.I really do want to know the truth,” Aaron said.“I found your results extremely impressive, and I want to know if you fooled me, I fooled myself, or you’re remarkably gifted.It must be one of those, and I’ve been driving myself mad trying to work out which.”
“Sorry to be occupying your thoughts,” Wildsmith flipped back.“You should charge me rent.”
Aaron had an urge to tell himYou’re welcome, any time, or some such damn fool thing.He forked up a bit of beef instead and chewed carefully.
