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'That's always been my opinion.'

'And hers as it turned out.'

Joan leant forward so that her face was in the brightness and glared first at Meg and then at Tommy. 'If you two want to work on a stand-up comedy routine -'

We're sitting down,' Tommy cut in, and Meg giggled.

'- can you do it another time!'Joan ploughed on shrilly. 'And Meg, why are you drunk, now of all times?'

'Oh shut up, Joan,' Meg snapped. 'You're not my mother.'

You knew we were going to do this! Joan accused.

'So?'

Josh asked, So are we going to do something or not?' He shifted on his cushion. 'My arse is going to sleep here.'

There was a moment of silence. Meg mumbled, Sorry. I'm OK. Really. I'm not drunk. Not particularly'

'And what difference does it make anyway?" Tommy demanded. 'We're talking communication with spooky forces here, yes? Not juggling or tightrope walking.'

'Presumably she'll be more suggestible,' Josh said. 'Alcohol's been used in this sort of nonsense ritual since whoever it was invented God.'

'Perhaps we should all get drunk,' Joan said, still angry.

Now that sounds like a plan; Tommy said.

'Bar's closed; Josh said and reached forward to put his right index finger on the planchette. Is there anybody there?' he intoned.

The little pointer rocked and twitched and started to roll towards the letters.

'Oh my God, look at that; Meg whispered.

The planchette reached the letter N, moved sideways to the letter O and then wobbled uncertainly back to the start position where it came to rest.

Josh took his finger off it. 'Oh dear,' he said flatly. 'Nobody there. Wasting our time it seems.'

'Very funny,' Joan said.

Tommy snorted. 'Funny? Oh come on, it wasn't a patch on our routine and you weren't remotely amused by that.'

'All right,' Joan sighed. 'All right. Let's start again from the beginning. Are we sitting comfortably?'

'No,' the other three said, more or less in unison.

"Then we'll begin. Concentrate. Focus.' Joan made upward stroking motions on either side of the crystal ball as though she was trying to gather imaginary vapours and breathe them in. 'Focus. Concentrate. Now, each one of you put a finger on the planchette.'

Meg, Tommy and Josh did as they were told. They were sitting on three sides of the table so that no one person would be in a position to exert an undue influence over the movement of the pointer. In theory at any rate, they cancelled each other out.

'We are here to be guided,' Joan said in a slightly singsong voice. 'We are here to seek answers. We are here in all humility to ask for your help and to ask for your wisdom.' She paused dramatically. Slowly she laid her hands palms upwards on the table. 'Can anybody hear us? Is there anybody there?'

On the Ouija board the pointer remained stubbornly unmoving.

'We ask this in all humility: is there anybody there?' she repeated.

Still the pointer remained static.

After a moment or two she asked, 'Do you feel anything?'

'Does stupid count?'Josh muttered.

'Nothing,' Tommy said. 'Not a quiver. Perhaps we're pressing too hard.'

Why won't you answer us?'Joan asked more loudly in her semichant.

Abruptly the pointer began to move. A-S-K-I-N-G R-O-N-G K-W-E-S-T-I-O-N was painstakingly spelled out. Did any of you do that? Joan asked quietly.

Josh said. 'Presumably we all did it.' Did anyone do it on purpose?'Joan persisted.

Josh withdrew his hand. No I didn't,' he said pointedly. But you're not going to believe me are you.'

'You did it before.'

'I'll just watch this time then, OK?' He sat back from the table so that he was out of the light. What's the right question do you think?' Meg asked.

Tommy said, 'How about: where did you learn to spell? Are the dead dyslexic?'

'Who's there?'Josh suggested.

This time the planchette jerked between the letters. U D-O-N-T W-A-N-T N-O.

'Yes we do,' Joan said. 'We want to know who it is we're speaking to.'

NOT N-O.

Josh spoke from the darkness. 'You don't know who you are, or you don't want us to know