The Stranger Came (45 page)

The
girl's
head
fell
forward.

But
then
she
was
on
her
feet
and
pushing
past
them
into
the
passage.

'Something's
wrong,'
Lucy
said.
'Something's
wrong
with
her.’

Maitland
paid
no
attention,
smiling
to
himself
as
he
watched
the
trickle
of
people
mounting
the
steps.
The
Great
Sovek
met
them
there,
releasing
their
hands
with
a
touch
and
sending
some
back
down
to
join
the
audience
and
others,
Sophie
among
them,
to
a
row
of
seats
set
out
in
the
centre
of
the
stage.

Such
a
strange
sigh
the
girl
had
given.

It
was
done
so
quickly.
No
pendulums
or
swinging
watches,
'Look
into
my
eyes';
none
of
that.
Lucy
had
never
seen
anyone
being
hypnotised
except
in
old
films,
and
then
it
was
only
actors
pretending.
The
Great
Sovek
walked
behind
the
line
of
seated
people,
touching
each
one
on
the
neck;
he
hardly
paused
and
yet
each
time
the
head
fell
forward
as
if
in
sleep.
Perhaps
if
he
were
slower,
they
would
realise
what
was
about
to
happen
and
jump
up.
It
would
spoil
things
if
too
many
of
them
did
that.
They
were
being
given
no
time
to
change
their
minds.

Sophie
Lindgren
was
near
the
end
of
the
row
on
the right,
or
on
the
left
–
wasn't
that
so?
For
the
people
up
there
it
would
be
on
the
left;
stage
left.
How
still
she
sat,
her
hands
in
her
lap
and
her
head
bent
forward.
But
they
were
all
like
that,
almost
all
of
them;
she
was
no
different
from
the
others.
And
there
were
as
many
men
as
women.
She
had
taken
it
for
granted
that
men
would
be
better
able
to
resist.
All
of
them
were
young,
of
course;
and
she
thought
that
might
be
why,
and
then
wondered
if
older
people
had
gone
up
and
been
rejected.
She
hadn't
noticed
because
she
had
been
watching
Sophie
Lindgren.
Someone
with
white
hair
sitting
up
there
in
that
row
of
dreamers
would
be
not
entertaining
but
sad.

Strange
that
none
of
the
patients
had
tried
to
go
up.
If one
of
them
had
tried,
she
hadn't
noticed.
Yet
if
weakness
of
will
was
involved
–
but,
of
course,
the
nurses
would
have
stopped
them.
The
girl
doctor
perhaps
had
stretched
out
to
her
neighbour,
putting
her
hand
over
his
as
a
warning,
stopping
him
from
whatever
risk
there
might
be
in
finding
he
couldn't
unclasp
his
fingers.
The
Great
Sovek
might
have
had
more
than
he
bargained
for.
But
then
part
of
his
skill
must
lie
in
not
choosing.

‘I
don't
degrade
anyone
in
my
act’,
the
Great
Sovek
had said
in
the
greenroom
–
not the young man who is proposing marriage down on one knee pleading with an empty chair
?
They
uncover
abilities
they
never
knew
they
had,
that's
what
it's
about
–
like the girl eating the lemon now and wiping the sweet juice from her chin
?
People who
can't
sing,
sing,
guys
with
two
left
feet,
dance
the
tango –
and the man having a bath with all his clothes on
?
It
was
only
fun,
she
was
being
ridiculous,
it
was
part
of
a
show,
no
different
from
the
comedian,
singer,
juggler.
Listen
to
them
laugh.

She
hated
what
was
happening
on
stage.

The
patients
from
the
unit
for
the
depressed,
the
addicted,
the
disoriented,
seemed
to
be
laughing
in
the
right
places.
They
leaned
forward,
cried
out;
in
the
blurred
dark,
they
were
no
different
from
the
rest
of
the
audience.
As
if
he
had
read
her
thoughts,
the
man
who
had
been
eating
the
ice-cream
turned
round
and
smiled
at
her
– traces
of
sticky
stuff
dry
around
his
mouth.
She
was
in
pain.
Without
warning
or
preparation,
pain
ran
like
acid
behind
her
eyes.

The
hypnotist's
performance
was
moving
to
its
climax.
For
this,
everyone
had
to
be
involved.
The
stage
began
to
fill
with
figures.
A
boy
of
about
twenty
sat
up
and
begged
with
hanging
paws,
fell
down
on
all
fours
again,
yapped
and
cocked
up
a
leg –
sobs
of
laughter.
Like
a
circus
clown
spinning
plates,
the
Great
Sovek
hurried
back
and
forward.
He
spoke
to
the
two
men
gyrating
together
and
they
were
dancing
the
tango.
He
drew
up
his
puppets
slack
jointed
and
gave
them
worlds
of
their
own.
The
row
of chairs
was
almost
empty.
He
had
touched
Sophie
and
then
moved
on,
come
back
to
her
quickly
and
then
turned
to
someone
else.
Now
the
boy
on
all
fours
came
sidling
sideways
like
a
mongrel.
Boy-dog,
he
sniffed
at
Sophie
Lindgren's
spread
legs.