‘Which means I won’t get hungry in the night any more, which means I won’t eat too much,’ she crowed, as we trooped out of the school gates. ‘And if I don’t eat too much, I’ll lose weight, and if I lose weight, I’ll have friends!’
Michelle and I stared at her.
‘What do you mean?’ I was almost insulted. ‘You already have friends.’
‘We’re your friends,’ Michelle pointed out, as if Bettina was being incredibly stupid. ‘What you weigh doesn’t have anything to do with it.’
Bettina went pink.
‘Really?’ she squeaked.
‘Of course.’ I nudged her onto the bus, and she bounced on ahead of me, looking pleased even from the back. Just to prove that I wasn’t lying, I sat next to her. Michelle dropped into the seat behind me. And Peter … well, Peter hesitated. He had been talking to Serge Blatevsky, who was tugging him into a seat down the front of the bus. He caught my eye, grinned a lopsided grin, and lifted his hand in a half-hearted way before joining Serge.
‘What’s he doing over there?’ Michelle spluttered. ‘What about the Exorcists’ Club?’
She half rose, but I pulled her back. I knew exactly what Peter was doing, as a matter of fact. And I didn’t blame him, though it hurt me a little.
‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘He’s a boy. Boys need boys.’ What boys don’t need is other boys teasing them about girls. They hate that. I know they do, because I have a brother. If you want to absolutely enrage Bethan, all you have to do is make jokes about the way he chases Elizabeth Green, sometimes.
‘Okay,’ I said, taking a deep breath and averting my gaze from the back of Peter’s head, ‘so what are you going to do, Bettina? Move into your bedroom, again?’
‘Of course.’
‘Leave a bottle of formula out every night?’
Bettina shrugged. ‘Maybe,’ she rejoined. ‘Or maybe one bottle is all the ghost needed. Maybe it won’t be hungry any more.’
‘Maybe.’ I couldn’t really argue with that. It was quite possible.
But somehow I had my doubts.
CHAPTER # eleven
I couldn’t believe it when I walked through our front door. Mum was on the phone, talking to her friend Trish, so even though I was desperate to speak to Delora, I had to hang around, drinking milk and fiddling with the fridge magnets, while Mum arranged a trip to the movies. That very night.
‘Well, I can leave it to Ray,’ she was saying. ‘Yes, Ray can cook them dinner. It’s his turn anyway. What? Oh, yes … Yes … oh, we can grab something there, don’t you think? Sure. Hmm? Oh, do you think so?’
The call went on and on. Meanwhile Bethan stampeded into the kitchen, grabbed a muesli bar, and hurled himself out again. I could hear his feet clumping up the stairs. At last Mum put the receiver down. She smiled at me, and asked if I wanted to use the phone.
‘Yes, please,’ I replied.
‘You’ll be all right with Ray tonight, won’t you?’
‘Oh, sure.’ I was looking for Delora’s number in the family address book, which has many little scraps of paper tucked behind the back cover, and one of my old drawings pasted on the front. I finally reached her on her mobile number.
‘You what?’ she crackled, when I tried to explain the situation. (It was a very bad connection.)
‘We think the ghost in Bettina’s room is gone!’ I said loudly.
‘Did you say ghost?’
‘The one in Bettina’s room! The hungry force? It was a dead baby!’
‘A what? A baby?’
‘We think it’s gone!’
By the time Delora had grasped what I was trying to tell her, Mum was back in the room, after paying Bethan a little visit. She was leaning against a wall, listening.
‘You want me to come over and check? That the energy’s gone?’ Delora’s voice sounded faint through the static. ‘Is that what you’re asking?’
‘Yes, please,’ I confirmed. ‘Also, I’ve got your money. Your money for last time.’ (Mum had kindly stopped at a bank machine, on our way home from school the previous day.)
‘Oh, I won’t charge for a follow-up, pet.’
‘But you can come? Soon?’
‘I can come tonight. I’ll be passing through. I’ve got a sitting out that way at six-thirty. I can pick you up at about five-thirty, if you … crackle crackle … else drops you home.’
‘Hang on a minute.’ I turned to Mum, and in pleading tones gave her an update on the Eloise Amirault case. ‘Can I go, Mum? Please? We could eat at five.’
‘Ray doesn’t get home until five.’
‘We could eat then.’
‘But – oh all right.’ She gave a huge sigh. ‘It looks like I’ll be cooking after all.’
‘Thanks, Mum!’
‘But only if you can find someone to drop you home, Allie. Mrs Berich, or Michelle’s mum –’
‘I know. It’s okay. I’ll sort it out.’
And I did. After saying goodbye to Delora, I rang the Beriches, and Michelle, and Peter, and they all fell in with my arrangements. Peter’s brother promised to drive Peter and Michelle to Bettina’s house, while Michelle’s mother agreed to pick us all up afterwards. Everything had been settled by five o’clock, at which point dinner was being served and Ray was walking through the front door.
He put his briefcase down, in a dazed fashion, while Mum and I bombarded him with information about our plans.
‘I’m going out with Trish tonight, love –’
‘And I’m going to Bettina’s place. Delora’s picking me up –’
‘And Trish is picking me up, so you’ll still have the car –’
‘But don’t worry, because Michelle’s mum will be dropping me home …’
Poor Ray. It was a lot to absorb. Mum and I were both talking through mouthfuls of spaghetti, too, and that can’t have made us easy to understand. Nevertheless, he nodded as he sat down, and didn’t raise any objections. ‘Pass the parmesan’ was the only thing he said. He’s always pretty tired after work.
I really bolted my dinner, that evening. I even beat my brother (and that’s saying a lot, believe me). Then I dashed upstairs, cleaned my teeth, and was packing Delora’s forty dollars into my purse when she arrived at a quarter to six. I could hear her cockatoo voice from my bedroom, as she joked with Mum.
Because she was late, I scurried to join her as quickly as I could. She was wearing silver boots, this time – like an astronaut. She also wore a silvery sequin skirt and a black halter-neck top, with something printed on it that looked a bit like the Milky Way. Her hair was twisted into a knot, and two enormous silver moons dangled from her ears.
‘I know it’s a bit way out,’ she admitted, when I gaped at her. ‘But these clients I’m seeing are a bit way out, too.’
‘It’s very kind of you to do this,’ Mum said, accompanying us out to Delora’s beat-up old car. ‘I hope the news is good.’
‘So do I.’ Delora apologised for the junk on the front passenger seat, instructing me to push it all off onto the floor. ‘That was a nasty presence in your friend’s room,’ she added. ‘Very strong. One of the worst I’ve ever encountered.’
‘Allie says they got rid of it with a bottle of baby formula,’ Mum remarked. She had to stoop to address Delora, who had climbed in behind the steering wheel. ‘Is that possible, do you think?’
Delora shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’ She sounded sceptical. ‘You never can tell, I suppose – not with the afterlife – but it seems pretty unusual.’ She slammed her door shut. ‘Got your seatbelt on, darl?’
‘Yes.’
‘Off we go, then. Bye, Judy!’
‘Bye!’
I had never travelled in Delora’s car. It was amazing. The whole back seat was piled high with stuff: hats and sandals and magazines and filmy scarves and oil-burners and electricity bills and empty cigarette packets. There were stickers (mostly star-shaped) all over the windows, and a crystal hanging from the rear-view mirror. Poems were
written on the ceiling in different-coloured inks.
I would have loved it, except that the whole car stank of cigarette smoke.
‘Nice car,’ I observed timidly.
‘Thank you, pet. It suits me, anyway.’
‘What’s the crystal for?’
‘Protection.’
‘Oh.’ I remembered the money, then, and dug it out of my purse. Delora told me to stick it in the glove box, but when I opened the glove box, a whole lot of maps and make-up spilled out. So she told me to find her bag, instead.
It wasn’t too hard, despite all the clutter.
‘So,’ I said, having paid my debt and cleared my throat, ‘will this be all right for you, Delora?’
‘What’s that, sweetie?’
‘I mean, going into Bettina’s bedroom. You said it might be dangerous.’
‘Oh, not unless I try to channel.’ Delora punched at her horn, because the car in front of her had done something stupid. ‘I’m not going to channel, pet, any more than I did last time. I’ll just slip in and see if the energy’s still there. Won’t take a minute. It was so strong last time I could have taken a picture, so I won’t need to engage it, or anything.’
‘Right.’ I didn’t quite understand, but was satisfied that Delora hadn’t any misgivings about her upcoming visit. Looking around some more, I said: ‘Is that a dream-catcher?’
‘Pretty, isn’t it?’
‘Do you sleep in here?’
Delora laughed her rasping laugh.
‘Not if I can help it,’ she replied. ‘It doesn’t have cruise control, this one – it’s a real bomb.’
It was certainly a bumpy sort of car, always jerking to a halt as Delora grappled with the gearstick, cursing under her breath. But we finally made it, and burst into Bettina’s house to discover that both Michelle and Peter had already arrived. Astra was there, too, and Mrs Berich, of course. They all looked kind of edgy.
‘Hello, everyone!’ Delora squawked. I think she was a little nervous herself, after her last visit. ‘Just popping in to suss out that bedroom. Allie says it’s not Invested any more, is that right?’
Bettina glanced up at her mother, who shifted uncomfortably.
‘Maybe not,’ Mrs Berich replied, in a sombre voice. Astra’s arms were folded across her chest.
‘I put a bottle of formula in there,’ Bettina volunteered, ‘and no one’s been hungry since. I mean, not in that bedroom.’
‘Is the bottle in there now?’ Delora wanted to know, and pursed her lips when Bettina nodded. ‘Then take it out for me, will you, pet? There’s a good girl.’ Once again, while Bettina went to fetch the bottle, Delora turned to Mrs Berich. ‘I’ll just pop inside for a few minutes, and you won’t know I’m here. Mind if I keep the door shut? No? Good. Thank you!’
Seeing her move towards the bedrooms, I asked if she needed anything. But she shook her head.
‘Just a few minutes,’ she reiterated. ‘And a bit of peace.’
She disappeared. I heard a door closing. Bettina, cradling the baby’s bottle, returned to the living room, where (I suddenly realised) the entertainment unit no longer supported Michael’s little shrine. The baseball cap was gone. So were the trophies, the cheeseboard and the birthday card. Only one of the photographs was left.
‘Oh,’ I said, before I could stop myself. Everyone noticed what I was looking at, and Astra stepped forward to answer the unspoken question that hung in the air.
‘The dead are dead,’ she declared, as if she’d been challenged. ‘You cannot keep them.’
‘You don’t want to keep them,’ Mrs Berich remarked quietly, watching her sister.
‘No. That’s right.’
‘If you keep them, you have dead babies making trouble in your bedroom.’
‘Yes.’ Astra looked upset, for a moment, but then blinked and added fiercely: ‘Is good Michael is at peace. Peaceful. We don’t want him here, like the baby. Poor baby.’
‘Poor baby,’ Mrs Berich echoed. Obviously her sister had come to accept that the ghost in the bedroom did exist – or had existed, anyway. We were still waiting to find out if it existed any more.
‘Would you like drinks?’ Mrs Berich suddenly inquired. She waved her hand at the couch. ‘Sit down, please.’
‘We have lemon cordial,’ Bettina began, but was interrupted by Delora’s entrance. We were all quite shocked, I think, to see her standing there in the doorway. She blinked a few times, screwing up her eyes against the light.
No one had expected that she would return so soon.
‘Well,’ she announced, ‘something’s certainly happened.’
‘That was quick,’ said Peter.
‘Because it was easy.’ Delora approached Mrs Berich, adjusting her top-knot, which was starting to unravel. ‘I don’t know what you’ve done, sweetie, but that bedroom is as clean as a whistle.’
‘Clean?’ Bettina’s mum repeated, frowning.
‘There’s nothing in there.’ Delora spoke firmly. ‘Not a tweak. Not a glimmer. The energy’s completely gone.’ ‘Gone?’
‘I don’t know if it will stay away,’ Delora continued, dragging the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. ‘It might do. I can’t advise you on that. All I can say is, that room’s now safe to sleep in. At this point in time.’
I was amazed. So Bettina had been right after all, and I had been wrong! Then Bettina herself asked a question, before Delora could leave the house.
‘So should we keep putting this bottle in there?’ she queried. ‘Or don’t we have to, any more?’
Delora shrugged.
‘I don’t know. Probably. Unless there’s something else you’ve been doing?’ Her gaze flitted from Bettina’s face to Astra’s and back again. ‘Holy water? Anything like that? A purifying ritual of some sort?’
Bettina and her mother shook their heads mutely. I don’t think Astra understood what was being said.
‘Then it’s a mystery,’ Delora concluded. ‘It could have been the bottle, or it could have been something else, entirely unrelated. I can’t help you on that one, I’m afraid.’
‘But it is gone now?’ Mrs Berich interjected, as if she wanted to be absolutely sure. ‘The ghost is gone?’
‘Oh, quite gone,’ said Delora. She smiled, and blew a kiss at me. ‘Bye, Allie. Bye, everyone. Gotta go.’
And that was that. It felt funny in the living room, after Delora had left. Everyone was still standing there: Bettina was holding the bottle; Michelle hadn’t surrendered the tin of biscuits that she’d brought for Mrs Berich. (Michelle’s mother always makes her take a gift of food with her wherever she goes, even if she’s coming to my house.) At last Astra said something in Croatian, to her sister, and Mrs Berich grunted.
‘So does anyone want lemon cordial?’ Bettina asked. ‘Or tea?’
‘No, thank you,’ said Peter.
‘No, thank you,’ I replied.
‘Actually, I’d better phone my mum,’ Michelle reminded us all. ‘So that she can come and get us. Er, by the way, this is for you, Mrs Berich.’
Bettina’s mother seemed confused when Michelle placed the tin of biscuits in her hands. But she politely showed Michelle where the phone was, leading her out of the room. After they’d gone, Bettina cleared her throat and said: ‘I’ll go and put this bottle back.’
‘Can we come along?’ Peter asked. ‘Can we see what it’s like, in there?’
‘Sure. Okay.’ A burst of Croatian from Bettina, aimed at her aunt – who nodded. Next thing Peter and I were following Bettina into her bedroom, which looked exactly the same as it always had. The same blinds were rattling in the window, the same green spread covered the bed, the same junk was strewn over the chest of drawers …
It didn’t feel the same, though. Something was different.
‘Have you aired it out?’ I inquired. ‘Have you been leaving the window open, or something?’
‘No,’ Bettina responded.
‘It seems bigger,’ Peter observed. �
��Does it seem bigger to you?’
‘Not really.’ I studied the walls, the carpet, the ceiling. ‘You’ve cleaned the light fitting.’
‘No.’ Bettina shook her head. ‘We haven’t touched it.’
Peter, laughed, just as Michelle walked into the room. She asked him what was so funny.
‘We are,’ he said, with a grin. ‘We’re all so completely flummoxed. Like – the forces of the universe have converged to change the space/time continuum!’
‘Huh?’ said Michelle. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean that we’ve solved it without even knowing how!’ Peter explained, reverting back to normal English.
Michelle frowned.
‘Which is better than not solving it at all,’ Michelle snapped, and I added quietly: ‘No one claimed to be an expert, Peter. I certainly didn’t.’
‘Anyway, we do know how,’ Bettina objected. ‘It was the bottle. Isn’t that right?’
‘Maybe,’ I said. ‘Maybe not.’
‘But –’
‘Delora wasn’t sure,’ Michelle pointed out. ‘We’ll never really know.’
‘And does it matter?’ Peter said. The ghost’s gone. That’s all that really matters.’
I disagreed with him, but I didn’t say so. What was the use of reminding him that, unless we could determine exactly what had driven Eloise away, we couldn’t be sure that she would stay away? If I expressed the fear that she might come back, I would only upset Bettina.
That’s why I kept my mouth shut. I just went along with everyone else, admiring Bettina’s collection of pencil-sharpeners, selecting one of Michelle’s biscuits, and discussing time travel with Peter until Michelle’s mum showed up. I said thank you to Mrs Berich very nicely, before climbing into the back seat of Michelle’s mum’s glossy new four-wheel drive.
It wasn’t until I saw the yellow car parked outside our house that I remembered Dad’s invitation, and checked my watch with a growing sense of horror.
Eloise Page 11