Really Weird Removals.com

by Daniela Sacerdoti

  Uncle Alistair opens his mouth to answer. I can see he’s flustered.

  “He went away to England. Dad was angry with him.” I tell them.

  “Angry? Why?”

  “Because he did it. He opened the fold in time that trapped you, by mistake.”

  “He did it? He was the one who trapped us in time? We asked him to do a trick…”

  Some trick, I say to myself.

  “How did you do it?”

  “I… I just opened a fold. It was supposed to be simple. And then the fold turned into a time bubble, and there was no going back. I couldn’t get you back.” He winces, remembering the pain and upset.

  Opening a fold in time can be so dangerous. Still, he did it again, that night in the woods at Hag, when he sent the stone fairies to another time. With us an inch away from it. I shiver.

  “Poor you, must have felt terrible about it!”

  Uncle Alistair looks away.

  “He’s always been a special boy.” Papa explains to us. “He Sees things, you know, things that nobody else can see… My mother was like that… your great-grandmother… But not me…”

  “I can See too, and so can Luca!” says Valentina.

  “Good for you, pet! I’m so proud of you both! I wish I’d never missed a day with you…”

  “We can catch up now, Granny!” Valentina snuggles up to her.

  “Can we see Duncan now? We need to explain…”

  “He’s upstairs writing, Papa.” He’s in for a surprise… I wonder how he’ll react.

  “He’s writing? He always dreamt of having a book published!”

  “He did it, Granny. He’s had many books published. He’s very famous,” I say, proudly.

  “That’s wonderful!”

  We all wander into the hallway, Granny and Papa looking around, whispering about how the house has changed… I’m still quite dizzy, and Uncle Alistair has an arm around my shoulders. Valentina is skipping happily.

  We stand at the bottom of the attic stairs for a moment, looking at each other.

  “Who’s going to explain everything to Dad?” Valentina asks, cheerily.

  “I’ll go.”

  This is up to me. I take a deep breath, and make my way to his door. I’m very nervous.

  “Dad?”

  “Mmmmmm.”

  “Dad, there’s someone here to see you.”

  “Luca, I’m writing.”

  “I know, but you’ve got visitors.”

  “Who?”

  “Come and see.”

  “Is your mum not in?”

  He drives me mad!

  “No, Dad. And these visitors are for you. Come downstairs. Please.”

  Reluctantly, he abandons his computer, and walks down.

  And he sees them, standing at the bottom of the stairs with their noses up. Granny and Papa.

  “Hello, Duncan. Well, we thought we only saw you a little while ago at the ceilidh, but apparently it’s been fifteen years,” says Papa, in a trembling voice. Granny is crying.

  And my Dad is out cold, on the landing.

  ***

  He can’t keep his hands off them. He keeps touching their back, their shoulders, their hands, as if to make sure they’re here. I stir sugary tea for everyone, for the shock.

  “It’s time you make peace, you two,” says Granny, her eyes going from one son to the other, fondly.

  “He promised he wouldn’t do anything dangerous. But he started involving the children in his crazy stuff… I was so scared they’d get hurt, or disappear, like you…” Dad rubs his brow. Poor him. Uncle Alistair looks exhausted, blue shadows under his eyes. Will Dad not give him a break now?

  “But we’re here, aren’t we? Alistair and Luca got us back.”

  “I know, but…”

  “MAMMA MIA!” A scream resounds in the living room.

  My mum is back. She doesn’t pass out, just throws herself into my grandparents’ arms.

  “I thought you were dead!” she manages to say. “Where have you been?”

  “Stuck in time,” Granny says.

  “What?”

  “Long story.”

  “Santo cielo!” Mum exclaims, and a few other Italian expressions. She always does that when she’s very happy, or very upset. I think that right now she’s a mixture of both.

  “Mum! Dad!” Now it’s my Aunt Shuna’s turn to throw herself into their arms and cry.

  “You told me they were dead!” says Mum, looking at my dad.

  “I thought they were never coming back…” he replies, feebly.

  “I knew it! I knew it’d be all right, one day!” says Aunt Shuna, sobbing. “But what happened?”

  “We got them back. Luca and I,” says Uncle Alistair.

  “Something strange is always happening, with you… but this…” Shuna has tears streaming down her face. “I can’t believe this! Duncan, Alistair brought them back!”

  “And Luca. They did, yes.”

  We all wait, in silence.

  And then Dad stands up, walks over to Uncle Alistair, and holds him very tight, for a long time.

  ***

  “But what did happen, exactly? How did you make it back?” my mum asks my grandparents, drying her eyes. Everyone is crying. Everyone, even Camilla, whose sniffling has an echo.

  Everybody starts speaking at the same time again.

  “Guys! GUYS!” says Valentina. Everybody quietens down. “Luca will explain.” They all look at me.

  “Oh. Well. Yes. Uncle Alistair opened a fold in time to look for Granny and Papa, there was an accident, it turned into a time bubble and he was stuck in it with them. He didn’t know how to sort it…” and I tell them everything, about Uncle Alistair playing loudly, about how I heard the music and how we worked out what

  might have happened and opened the bubble.

  “Isn’t he a hero!” chirps Camilla.

  “He is a hero, Camilla,” says Dad.

  Uncle Alistair, Valentina, Camilla and I look at him.

  My dad can hear Camilla. He can see her.

  My dad has the Sight.

  27. WE’RE A FAMILY AGAIN

  Alistair Grant’s Scottish Paranormal Database

  Welcome to the Scottish Paranormal Database, commissioned by the Scottish Executive. I thank them warmly for this opportunity, and for the chance to meet my esteemed colleagues Finbar Kinsella and Peter Hamilton-Smith, authors of the Irish and English Paranormal Databases respectively. This is the product of many years of research, travel and wide consultation: here you’ll find a complete catalogue of paranormal phenomena in Scotland and the seas around it. I hope you’ll enjoy reading and using it as much as I’ve enjoyed compiling it. Remember: this database is always growing, so if you have any sightings, visit ReallyWeirdRemovals.com, fill in the sightings form and let me know what you saw!

  Special thanks to Luca, Valentina, William, Beth, Shuna, Duncan, and Isabella Grant. And, of course, to Mary.

  “You can see Camilla?” cries out Valentina.

  “You have the Sight?” Alistair and my grandparents say in unison.

  “Duncan? Is Camilla here?” asks my mum, looking around frantically. She’s read about her in my diary, but of course she can’t see her.

  Aunt Shuna is gawping.

  My dad looks like a rabbit caught in headlights. Everyone is quiet for a split second.

  And then:

  “You can see me, too!” shouts Camilla delightedly, twirling towards the ceiling like she does when she’s happy.

  “Duncan, I want an explanation. Now,” says my mum, in her deadly serious voice.

  Dad looks from her to us, from Alistair to our grandparents.

  And then he bolts upstairs, followed by my mum.

  A moment of silence.

  “Another cup of tea?” asks Shuna in a shrill voice, and busies herself with the teapot. Her hands are shaking.

  “He never told us…” whispers Granny.

  “All along, he could See… H
e could do all that you could do!” Aunt Shuna is gulping down sugary tea.

  “I sort of suspected it…” says Uncle Alistair.

  “Why did he hide it?” asks Valentina.

  “You’ll have to ask him,” answers Papa. “Mind you, your father was always a shy boy… Not like Alistair. Alistair was the life and soul of the party, chatting non-stop, cracking jokes, entertaining everyone. Your dad was always in his room, writing…”

  We all stop talking at once. My dad has reappeared, followed by my mum, who’s as pale as her amber skin can get.

  He stands in front of us. We all look at him, expectantly. He takes a deep breath.

  “I always had the Sight. But I was frightened of it. The things I saw… They weren’t always good.”

  I nod, remembering the baobhan sìth.

  “I thought that if I didn’t talk about it, it’d go away. Alistair was always the centre of attention anyway. It was easy to be invisible.”

  My dad, the invisible child?

  I always felt I was the invisible child. Invisible to him.

  “I’ve even kept it from Isabella. I thought she’d be horrified…” my mum shakes her head vehemently, “…and I never wished this curse on my children.”

  “It’s not a curse!” I shout out. “It’s a gift!”

  “It means everything to us, Daddy.” Valentina’s eyes are blazing.

  “So I’m the only one in the family who didn’t inherit the Sight,” says Shuna sadly.

  “Just be thankful!” Dad cries out.

  “No way! I wish I had it! I agree with Luca and Valentina, it’s a gift.”

  “Shuna, this gift you talk about stuck our parents in a time loop for fifteen years!”

  “And it saved them as well! Luca saved them!”

  “Duncan,” says my mum quietly, and everybody looks at her. “Our children are special. They can do things most people can’t even dream of. This is your fear, not theirs. And I won’t let you pass it on. They’re happy, and proud to have the Sight. And I’m happy I married into this wonderful family…”

  “Crazy as well,” says Shuna cheerily.

  “Yes, that too,” smiles my mum.

  “Well, you’ve always been the eccentric type, my dear,” says Granny.

  My mum ignores her. “I wish I could see what you all See,” she adds passionately, looking from my dad, to me, to Valentina.

  “I can show you, Mum. I’ll write down all that happens, just like I’ve been doing, so that you’ll know.”

  “Please do that, Luca,” she says. “Your dad and I will be so happy to read about your adventures. Won’t we?”

  My dad nods. “Had I accepted the Sight, had I explored it, instead of denying it, I could have got you back earlier,” he says wistfully.

  “Duncan, that was yesterday,” says Papa, in a choked voice. “This is today. We’re here, and all the secrets are out.”

  Valentina coughs, like she’s clearing her voice. We all look at her.

  “Nearly all the secrets…”

  “What, now?” says my mum, in mock exasperation.

  “Last week… I sort of… sort of melted some of your jewellery. Sooner or later you were going to find out.”

  “YOU WHAT?” Uh-oh. Someone’s in trouble. I remember seeing Valentina sneaking into my parents’ bedroom with a jewellery box. She was probably putting it back.

  “To make silver bullets. In case there’s werewolves around.”

  “That’s why there was a smell of smoke in the kitchen that day! Now, that beats the seaweed all over the garden.” Mum covers her eyes with her hand.

  “Sorry. I didn’t really think it through.”

  “Werewolves?” laughs Papa. “There’s no such thing as werewolves!”

  We all look at him.

  “Is there?” he murmurs.

  Dad, Alistair, Valentina, Camilla and I nod.

  “There is. Right. Oh well. What do you know?” He beams at us.

  EPILOGUE

  We’re all in the living room, the fire’s dancing and crackling and hissing, and the rain is tapping on our windows. Uncle Alistair is sitting between my dad and Mary, occasionally glancing at them like he can’t believe his luck. Valentina is perched on the armrest beside my dad, her head on his shoulder. My grandparents survey the scene – they can’t have enough of looking at us, like they still can’t quite believe we exist. My mum and Aunt Shuna are still and peaceful, as ever. And Camilla is revelling in the fact that someone else, someone unexpected, can see her. It’s perfect.

  Completely perfect. Because my dad is with us, not upstairs with Reilly.

  I’m reading my diary out, and Dad is helping me with my writing. On the cover, I’ve glued a picture drawn by Sorley McTire – a boy, a girl, a tall man, a little ghost, and our blue van. With us are the zeuglodon mum, Finlay and a few stone fairies. It’s such a brilliant picture; I can’t get enough of it.

  “So, where were we? Read this bit for me, Luca,” Dad says, his face all serious, like this really matters to him – like my writing is important. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see my mum looking at us, smiling in her serene way.

  “When he’s near enough to smell the pickled onions, he stops in his tracks, just a few inches away from my face. I can smell him, too: a mouldy revolting stench…”

  “What’s the smell like?” my dad interrupts. “Describe it for me.”

  “Well, it’s mouldy, revolting and… and it’s like it comes from the depth of a bog.”

  “Yes! Perfect.” He glows with pride. My mum and Aunt Shuna exchange a look. I’m so happy, I could burst. I write it in and go on:

  “…I can smell him too: a mouldy revolting stench that seems to come from the depth of a bog. The troll scrunches up his face again and makes the same gagging noises, then he howls in anger. It’s my moment…”

  Dad is listening intently, a frown on his face, his eyes shining – yes, this is my moment – our moment. And this is also just the beginning.

  There are many more stories to be told, many more adventures to be had. And to be written, by my dad and I.

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  Copyright

  Kelpies is an imprint of Floris Books

  First published in 2012 by Floris Books

  © 2012 Daniela Sacerdoti

  Daniela Sacerdoti has asserted her right under the

  Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be

  identified as the Author of this work

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be

  reproduced without the prior permission of

  Floris Books, 15 Harrison Gardens, Edinburgh

  www.florisbooks.co.uk

  British Library CIP data available

  ISBN 978–086315–900–8