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now?’ Dr Loomis asked.
‘Katie.’
‘Where are you, Katie?’
‘I am here now, in the world of sorrows.’
‘Where were you before?’
‘Before when, William?’
‘Before you began to speak.’
‘I am always with Jenny, but I was also in the Summerland.’
‘Ah yes. And before you were in the Summerland?’
‘I lived in Tarrytown. I was a seamstress.’
‘What year was that?’
‘I left in 1832, when I was twenty years old. I caught a grippe and died in a week.’
Uncle Hughie spoke behind the doctor. ‘We have of course verified that a young woman named Katie Green died of disease in Tarrytown in that year, but I fear we know little else about her.’
‘I led a quiet life,’ Katie said and Jenny ached with Katie’s wistfulness. ‘I left almost nothing behind me save a gravestone.’
‘Why are you here now? Why do you manifest yourself in Miss Sullivan?’ As he asked the question, Dr Loomis disengaged his fingers and took a stethoscope from the little table beside the chair.
Katie shifted to accommodate him as he pressed the horn trumpet of the instrument between the buttons of her blouse. Dissatisfied, he unfastened her bodice for better access and she felt the warmth of his fingers, though his manner was cool and professional, as he listened to Jenny’s beating heart and to her breath.
‘I am here to tell you there is life after death, William, but more than that I am here to teach you that life must be lived with fullness. Poor Jenny needs my lessons most of all.’ Katie rested Jenny’s hand atop Dr Loomis’s, pressing the tips of his fingers against the swell of her bosom.
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