Tick Tock

late-night talk show.”
    “Yes, I know.”
    “Sometimes David announces a guest, but instead of the movie star or singer or whoever it's supposed to be, my Ned comes out and sits in the guest chair. Then the whole program freezes, as if time has stopped—David and the audience and the band all frozen in place—and Ned talks to me.”
    Tommy tasted his chocolate croissant. It was delicious. “Of course,” said Mrs. Payne, “this appears only on my personal TV, not all over the country. I'm the only one who sees Ned.”
    With a mouthful of croissant, Tommy nodded.
    Del's mother said, “Ned always had style. He'd never settle for contacting me through a fake Gypsy medium at a séance or through a Ouija board, nothing as trite and tacky as that.”
    Tommy tried the coffee. It was lightly flavoured with vanilla. Excellent.
    “Oh, Mummingford,” Del said, “I almost forgot—there's a stolen Ferrari in the driveway.”
    “What would you like done with it, Miss Payne?”
    “Could you have it returned to Balboa Island within the hour? I can tell you exactly where it was parked.”
    “Yes, Miss Payne. I'll just refresh everyone's coffee and then attend to it.”
    As Del's mother began feeding pieces of a cruller to Scootie, she said, “What vehicle would you like brought up from the garage, Del?”
    Del said, “The way this night's going, whatever we drive is liable to end up on the junk pile. So it shouldn't be one of your most precious cars.”
    “Nonsense, darling. You should be comfortable.”
    “Well, I like the Jaguar two plus two.”
    “It's a lovely car,” Mrs. Payne agreed.
    “It has the power and manoeuvrability we need for work like this,” said Del.
    “I'll have it brought around to the front door at once,” Mummingford said.
    “But before you do, do you think you could please bring a telephone?” Del asked.
    “Certainly, Miss Payne,” the butler said, and he departed. Having finished his croissant, Tommy got up from his chair, went to the tea cart, and selected a cheese Danish.
    He had decided to concentrate on eating and not even try to be part of the conversation. Both women made him crazy, and life was too short to let them upset him. In fact, if reliable sources could be believed, there was a forty percent chance that life was very damn short indeed.
    Smiling at Del, smiling at her mother, Tommy returned to his chair with the Danish.
    From the radio, at reduced volume, issued Glenn Miller's “String of Pearls.”
    Del's mother said, “I should have had you children change into bathrobes the moment you arrived. Then we could have thrown your clothes in the dryer. They'd be dry and warm by now.”
    “We'll only get wet again when we leave,” Del said.
    “No dear. The rain will be stopping in another four minutes.”
    Del shrugged. “We'll be fine.”
    Tommy took a bite of the Danish and looked at his watch.
    “Tell me more about the entity,” Mrs. Payne said. “What it looks like, what its capabilities are.”
    “I'm afraid that'll have to wait till later, Mom. I need to use the bathroom quick, and then we'd better run.”
    “While you're in there, comb your hair, dear. It's kinking up now that it's drying.”
    Del left the room, and for perhaps ten seconds, Julia Rosalyn Winona Lilith and the big black dog stared at Tommy as he ate the Danish.
    Then Mrs. Payne said, “So you're the one.” Tommy swallowed a mouthful of pastry. “What does that mean—the one?”
    “Why, of course, dear boy, it means precisely what it says. You're the one.”
    “The one.”
    “Yes, the one.”
    “The one. There's something ominous about it.”
    She seemed genuinely baffled. “Ominous?”
    “Sort of like a term that some lost tribe of volcano-worshipping South Sea islanders might use before they throw the virgin into the fiery pit.”
    Mrs. Payne laughed with obvious delight. “Oh, you are precious. A sense of humour quite like Ned's.”
    “I'm serious.”
    “That makes it even funnier.”
    “Tell me about—the one,” he insisted.
    “Well, of course, Deliverance merely meant that you're the one for her. The one. The one she should spend the rest of her life with.”
    Tommy felt a hot blush rising faster than the mercury in a thermometer bathed with August sunshine.
    Evidently Julia Rosalyn Winona Lilith saw the blush, for she said, “My heavens, you are the sweetest young man.”
    Scootie chuffed as if in agreement.
    Blushing so brightly that he was beginning to sweat,
    Tommy desperately wanted to change the subject. “So you haven't slept since Mud