The Ghost of Josiah Grimshaw

by Suzy Turner

As they prepared to go, Emma suddenly remembered Daisy. Turning to look at the lonely girl, she approached her, 'Daisy, will you come back with us?'

  'Back where? And what about my Dad?'

  'Emma? I saw her dad down there. He's one of us. I saw the tattoo on his back. Which means Daisy is one of us too,' Nisha interrupted.

  'I knew it,' said Emma, 'Look, Daisy, I can't explain exactly where we'll be going. Just know that you can trust us. And there are people there, people like you and me that would happily take you in. You can learn with us. I just know that you're meant to come back with us. There's this feeling in the pit of my stomach and it's telling me that you should. Your dad can come to. He'll get the treatment he needs. I promise you, you won't regret it,' she said with her hands on Daisy's shoulders.

  The others stood slightly back, nodding.

  'I have the feeling too,' said Lana.

  'And me,' said Cassie and Penny.

  'I do too,' said Imran before the rest of them all agreed.

  Daisy's eye welled with tears as she looked around at the friendly faces looking at her hopefully. Finally feeling like she belonged, she nodded.

  The group kept quiet but their faces lit up and they all grinned at her before giving each other high-fives. Liam offered to climb down into the catacomb to fetch her father but she shook her head.

  'There's really no need, thank you. I can do it myself.'

  Within seconds, the slight girl had vanished before returning above ground carrying her father over her shoulder.

  'Now that's what I'm talking about,' laughed Imran, who turned his baseball cap backwards on his head as they began their journey back to Praxos.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Eleanor had taken Daisy in with open arms. She was shocked that someone with her abilities had gotten by under the radar, as she'd put it. Her father was being looked after by members of the Praxos Foundation in special medical facilities beneath the UCL building not far from Praxos HQ, while Daisy was staying with Eleanor in her own quarters, until the right Mentor was chosen to care for her.

  It was later revealed that Beau Madigan was a fallen angel, like Eleanor, who had chosen the wrong path until he had fallen in love with a human, Daisy's mother. Her name was Esther. She had died a year earlier. A fact that led to his downward spiral into alcoholism and the loss of their home. The shock of losing a mother and having to care for her father had catapulted Daisy's skills out into the open a year too soon. Her tattoo bore the words Semper Fidelis - always faithful.

  The events that had occurred at Abney Park had undoubtedly brought the group closer together, and for the first time, they felt like they truly belonged. Like a family.

  But the issue with Josiah Grimshaw continued, he still had no idea who he was or where he was from. The only redeeming feature so far was that he seemed to remember Emma, albeit vaguely.

  On Declan's boat a couple of night's later, the four of them were sat eating a delicious meal of Chicken Madras, Bombay potatoes, rice and naan bread when Emma suddenly had a thought about why Joe seemed to recognise her.

  'It's because I look like her,' she suddenly piped up after a few moments of silence as they tucked into the lovely grub.

  'Hm? What are you talking about?' Lana said, shovelling a piece of garlic naan into her mouth.

  'Joe. Remember when we went into his house? The photos...'

  'Duh... how could we have forgotten that?' Lana replied.

  'What's this all about?' Declan asked curiously as the girls proceeded to explain to him and Saleena what had happened the day Joe had died.

  'That woman on the wall, she looked a bit like Emma. He did tell us her name, do you remember Em?'

  She put down her fork for a second and gazed into space before picking it back up again and putting a heapful of rice into her mouth, shaking her head at the same time.

  'He told me... he said it a couple of times in the hospital. Oh, I can't remember. It was something like Ellie, Emily, that's it! Emelia!' she said, almost coughing. 'Emelia. That's the woman he spent almost his entire life searching for. She went missing in the storm of 1953.'

  'Poor bloke,' said Declan. 'But how come he's a young man?'

  Lana and Emma shrugged.

  'It was weird. The day he died, his body was found, barely alive, out in the North Sea. The same morning, his young body was found washed up on the beach at Andilyse. It was like there were two of him. A young man and an old man. We never understood how that was possible but now... after all we've learned over the past few weeks, we realise anything is possible,' said Emma as she polished off the Madras on her plate.

  'Help yourself to more, Emma,' offered Saleena.

  'I couldn't eat another thing, thanks. I'm so full,' she smiled. 'It was absolutely delicious.'

  'It sounds to me like this woman is the key. You need to find out who she was and exactly what happened to her,' Declan suggested. 'Hopefully that will bring back his lost memories so he can move on. Maybe I can use my contacts and get some of those photographs scanned and emailed to us?'

  'You can do that? But wouldn't Dad find out? Wouldn't he ask questions?' asked Lana, surprised.

  'I was planning on going directly to your dad, actually. He knows I'm an investigator so he wouldn't ask any questions at all,' he smiled cheekily.

  'Excellent,' Emma said as she gave in and scooped up a little more Madras on to her plate with a grin.

  The following morning, true to his word, the girls sat waiting for the email. Patrick had sent one of his officers up to Mr Grimshaw's home to obtain several of the photographs that were on the wall in the strange immaculate little room towards the back of the house. They'd been scanned in and emailed immediately to Declan.

  Patrick had made a comment in the body of his email about the young woman looking a little like his daughter, but it was obvious he'd thought nothing more of it.

  As Declan opened the photos, he could see the similarity in the same wavy chocolate brown hair and intense green eyes. They shared the same slim face shape and high cheekbones. It was easy to see why Joe had seen Emelia in Emma when he was on his death bed.

  Declan and Saleena stood leaning over the girls, as they flicked through the four photographs that had been sent. 'I wonder who she was,' muttered Saleena.

  'That's what we're going to find out,' said a determined Emma, as they printed off copies to take to Praxos with them.

  The rest of the group had already completed their tasks, so some hung around the HQ chatting to each other, playing board games or trained in the gym, while others had taken the opportunity to go sightseeing in the city with some of their Mentors.

  Liam was one of the ones working up a sweat, while Diarmuid was determined to give the girls a hand in carrying out their own task in assisting Joe to cross over.

  Joe was pleased to be surrounded by friendly folk in a comfortable environment and so he had no reason to stay hidden like he had done at Abney Park. He drifted from room to room, watching what was going on, sometimes talking to others, but mostly staying quiet hoping that his memories would return to him.

  When Emma, Lana and Diarmuid approached him that morning, he beamed happily, enjoying being part of the conversation.

  'Hey Joe,' said Emma as he floated towards them in the room with all the lovely soft bean bags. Lana let herself drop into one as Emma took the photos from her satchel.

  'I have some photos for you to look at, Joe, and I want to know if they're familiar to you at all,' she said as she laid them out on a small table in the centre of the room.

  He drifted closer and looked down. His eyes flicked from one to the other for quite a few minutes before Emma finally spoke again, 'Well, Joe? Do you know her?'

  He glanced up and nodded, 'I think so,' he said.

  'Yes!' shouted Lana from the other side of the room. 'At last!'

  'Who is she?' asked Diarmuid.

  'I... I... don't know,' he said.

  'Doh,' Lana cried.

  '
Think Joe, think long and hard. We got these photos from your house. Your little home on Andilyse Island. You have a room there completely dedicated to this woman. The walls are covered with her photos.'

  'I do?' he asked. 'She looks like you.'

  'Yes she does a little bit. But it's not me. This is a woman who disappeared in 1953. You've spent years searching for her, hoping she'd come back to you. Does any of this bring back any memories? Anything at all?'

  Joe held out his hand and gently tried to stroke the face on the photos, his fingers going straight through her.

  'I do... I do remember her face.'

  'We believe her name was Emelia,' Lana said, hoping it might help.

  'Emelia?' he said all of a sudden. 'Emelia. Yes I remember I loved a girl named Emelia,' he whispered excitedly.

  'Yes!' yelled Lana for the second time.

  'Now think back... who was she? What was her full name?' Emma asked.

  But his face went blank and he shook his head. 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... but I don't remember.'

  Lana leaned forward with her head in her hands, shaking it.

  'That's all right, Joe. At least you've remembered something. That's great for now,' reassured Emma.

  'I have an idea,' Diarmuid said just as Liam walked into the room with a towel around his neck.

  'What did I miss?' he asked as he walked towards Lana who curled up her nose when he leaned over to kiss her.

  'Ew, you're all sweaty,' she said. 'Joe can just about remember the girl in the photo. We know her name was Emelia but that's it, so far.'

  Diarmuid, who had run out of the room after he'd announced he'd had an idea, returned, carrying a laptop.

  Sitting down, he opened it and connected to the internet. After a few moments of typing and clicking away, he turned the screen towards the ghost.

  'Joe, have a look at this... do any of these images ring a bell?' he asked.

  If Joe had been alive, his face would have drained of all colour. His expression changed and fear filled his eyes.

  'The storm,' he whispered. 'People died. The old church was ruined, as was the... the pier. Emelia... was lost in the storm,' he cried. 'Oh Emelia where did you go?' he said as he drifted back to the photos, sobbing. 'Emelia, my love, oh Emelia.'

  'I think it worked,' Emma said quietly. 'But I think it's brought him too much pain.'

  'Unfortunately, he needs to remember everything,' Diarmuid said sadly.

  'Joe? Do you remember us now? Do you remember how you came to London?'

  'I came with you. You were the only ones who could see me. Emma, you were there when I died. Yes, I remember everything.'

  'Do you remember yourself as an old man?' Lana whispered.

  Slowly he looked up at them and nodded. As he did so, his features began to change. His eye sockets deepened and little wrinkles began appearing all over his face. His brown hair faded and thinned, while his pink lips became less full and bright. The ghost of Josiah Grimshaw became old in a matter of seconds.

  'What's happening?' asked Lana as she gasped at the sight of him changing.

  'I'm an old man again,' he whispered. 'I've lost my youth. I can't be dying... I'm already dead,' he said sadly as he faded from them.

  'Don't go Josiah,' Emma yelled, 'Don't leave us again,' she said, almost sobbing.

  He returned momentarily just to say, 'Don't worry, I just want to be alone for a while, that's all. I won't leave. Whenever you want me to come back, just call. I promise not to leave Praxos,' he said with the saddest smile she'd ever seen before he turned his back on them and disappeared into the air.

  When he was gone, Emma's eyes filled with tears and she sobbed into Diarmuid's shoulder, 'What have we done to him? What have we done?'

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Determined more than ever to help poor old Josiah Grimshaw come to terms with what had happened to him and find his true love so he could cross over, Emma and Lana were now on a mission. Mission Josiah.

  In the meantime, the other Watchers spent time with Eleanor and their Mentors, detailing what had happened at Abney Park that night, describing the Skulls in as much detail as possible. Occasionally, Eleanor would appear and ask Lana and Emma questions, but she understood that their need to complete their own task was much more important to them at that time.

  They spent hours online researching the Great Storm of 1953 and, although they had failed to discover Emelia's true identity, they were shocked to uncover that on the night of 31st January all those years earlier, all hell had broken loose around the coasts of England, Holland, Belgium and Scotland. There were nearly 2000 deaths in Holland alone, over 300 in the UK, 28 in Belgium and more than 230 people died on board sea craft in the North Sea, after many fishing trawlers sank. The Princess Victoria ferry was lost in the Irish Sea with 133 fatalities. 30,000 people were evacuated in England and 30,000 animals drowned. It was the mother of all storms.

  Emma couldn't stop herself from sobbing quietly while they read and so Lana kept her hand across her sister's shoulders in an almost maternal fashion.

  'Does it have the names of the dead anywhere?' asked Emma, in between sobs.

  'Not that I've found so far. But I'll keep looking...' answered Lana sadly.

  Several hours later, the girls sat disappointed and tired when Eleanor approached them quietly.

  'Girls, I have some news. I've been in touch with some of our special contacts who managed to get hold of a list of the victims of the Great Flood. I'm afraid to say that, of all those who perished on Andilyse Island, nobody matched that of this Emelia character. We also checked the list of those from England, Scotland, Belgium and Holland and there is no match for her anywhere.'

  'Do you think she's still alive?' asked Lana hopefully.

  Eleanor shook her head, 'I think it's unlikely, due to the manner in which she vanished. It was during the night of the storm, she was on a small island in the middle of the North Sea. There was nowhere for her to go.'

  'I don't understand,' sighed Emma. 'What could have happened to her?' she asked.

  'I'll leave you to ponder that question,' she said with a smile before turning and walking away.

  'I need to stretch my legs,' Lana yawned. 'Shall we go for a walk?'

  Emma nodded and the two stood up, stretched and headed to the elevator.

  Outside, the day was cool and blustery, the pavements a little slippery after a summer shower. Linking arms, the girls walked slowly down the road, each deep in thought about the elusive Emelia.

  'Maybe she faked her own death?' suggested Lana.

  'Really, Sis, that's the best you can come up with? If she'd done that, she'd have made sure that her name was on the victim's list, surely? And why would she do that? You can tell by those photos that she was so happy with Joe.'

  'Yeah I guess,' mumbled Lana in response. 'Maybe she was a spy?'

  Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head, her face breaking into a little smile.

  'For who? The Russians? Americans? Germans? It was 1953, the war was over.'

  'I suppose,' sighed Lana.

  As they walked along the pavement, barely noticing where they were going, Emma finally looked up and realised they were right outside the British Museum.

  'Ooh, look Lana. Shall we go in?'

  'Yeah, it might do us good to take our minds off Joe and Emelia for a while,' she said as they turned to face the grand building and walked up the stairs and through the entrance.

  'Wow,' uttered Emma, 'It's seriously impressive.'

  'Yeah, I guess so.'

  As the girls made their way through the museum, room after room, taking in the majestic architecture of the building and the historical delights on offer, Lana soon grew tired and bored, moving along quicker than Emma had the chance to read about any of the exhibits.

  'Lana, let me just read this,' she said time after time as Lana stood, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently.

  'Can we go now?' asked Lana eventually. 'I'm bored stiff.
'

  Shaking her head, Emma smiled, 'God you're so predictable, Lana. What do you want to do, go shopping?' she said sarcastically.

  'Now there's a thought,' Lana replied with a laugh. 'Oh come on, I was only joking. There's only so much history you can take in in one day.'

  'No, actually there isn't. This place is like a treasure trove... it's amazing. I could spend days in here.'

  'Not with me, you couldn't.'

  Emma raised her eyebrows and laughed. 'Too right.'

  Lana pouted and put her hands on her hips just as an attractive young man strolled past, cheekily smiling at her.

  'Erm, actually, maybe we could stay a little longer,' she said as she watched him stop over by a North American feather bonnet, reading the facts with a smirk still on his face.

  Emma just shook her head and continued to pore over the artefacts as Lana wandered over to him.

  'Hi,' she said, leaning against the wall.

  'Hi yourself.'

  'Ooh, you're American,' she breathed.

  The young man laughed.

  'I expect you already know about all this stuff,' she said pointing to the North American artefacts in front of them.

  'Yeah, you could say that. But you can never tire of this kind of history and culture, can you? This is one awesome museum you guys have here. If I lived here, I'd never want to leave,' he smiled, revealing a set of bright white teeth that wouldn't go amiss on a toothpaste advert.

  Instantly put off, Lana's shoulders drooped.

  'Yeah, I guess,' she said, adding, 'Sorry, I really need to get back to my sister. See you around,' she said without even giving him a chance to speak.

  'I don't believe you,' Emma said, so embarrassed that she dragged her away from the North American exhibition and far away from the poor guy, heading into the Asian exhibition where a huge group of tourists were circling around a tour guide.

  'Come on, let's get out of here. It's getting too busy and I really don't want to bump into that poor guy again. How embarrassing, Lana,' she sighed as they rounded the corner without looking where they were going, smack right into a woman who appeared to be an employee of the museum.