The Secrets of Ghosts

by Sarah Painter

Katie walked to Pendleford green on her own. Gwen had told her to trust her instincts and she had to do something about controlling her power. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was supposed to help the spirits and she was determined to work out how to do that on her own. Besides, she didn’t want to bother Gwen with this ghost business unless she had to. Katie couldn’t shake the feeling that something was very wrong with Gwen. She was draped in a sadness and Katie didn’t know where it had come from or why it had descended now. Maybe Gwen was working too hard? Maybe the attention for her shadow boxes was more stressful than everyone realised.

  Katie had a plan, though. She was taking control and going to work things out on her own. She had brought a blanket to sit on and a book to read, but she couldn’t concentrate. She kept watching the players, waiting for the boy to show up. She was half in hope and half in dread and her eyes danced over the page, turning the text to gibberish. After a while, she gave up on her book and just watched the match. There was something hypnotic about the thwack of the ball on the willow bat and she found herself being drawn into the game. So much so that when the boy appeared it took her a second to recognise him. Katie had wondered if her new knowledge would make him appear differently, but he was just as solid-looking as before.

  She’d seated herself conveniently close to the pavilion and was able to slip inside ahead of him. She went into the changing room, crossing fingers that it was unoccupied. It was.

  Katie didn’t have long to wait; the boy appeared in the middle of the room, between the benches. He was looking straight ahead, unseeing, and his walk had that odd flowing quality she’d got used to seeing.

  ‘Hello,’ she said as loudly as she could. The boy didn’t show any sign of having heard and Katie proceeded with the next part of her plan. She followed the boy into the shower but before he could reach the corner, turn around and do away with himself, she darted into the corner ahead of him and plunged her hands straight into his chest. She willed herself to believe that her hands would sink inside him and, just as Henry had claimed, they sank into the boy as if he were vapour. Which he was. Unbelievably solid-looking vapour. Katie could feel more than vapour. Nothing solid and certainly not what she would be feeling had she put her hands inside an actual corpse, but something with substance. A squishy sensation, pressure around her hands and fingers. Something. Katie tamped down on the urge to throw up and said, ‘I’m here to help you.’

  The boy’s eyes grew wide in surprise. He opened and closed his mouth like a guppy.

  ‘I can help,’ Katie said. ‘You need to let go. There’s nothing here for you now. If you let go of this place, you can move on.’

  The boy looked anguished but Katie had no idea if he was overcome with emotion at being spoken to for the first time in goodness knew how long or whether having her hands inside his ghostly body was as unpleasant for him as it was for her.

  ‘You need to move on,’ she said. Then, feeling rather self-conscious, she said, ‘I release you from this mortal plane.’

  The boy seemed to be getting more solid than before. The sensation around Katie’s hands was getting more pronounced; she could imagine tissue and muscle and blood pressing around and between her fingers. The boy’s expression was getting more frightened, his face splitting into a scream.

  Katie pulled her hands away and the boy disappeared.

  Katie washed her hands and then ran cold water over her wrists until she felt less sick. She walked into the sunshine and tried to feel triumphant. Katie tried to convince herself that something good had happened, that she’d released him from torment, but her gut told her otherwise. She ran back inside and just made it to the sink before throwing up.

  Chapter 19

  On her way home, Anna called, sounding excited. ‘I’m going to look at a flat. Can you meet me?’

  Katie stopped walking and sat on a bench to wait for Anna. She was delighted to have a distraction, a reason not to think about the boy in the cricket pavilion or Violet or her nightmares or any of it. At least for a little while.

  ‘I’m sick of travelling from Bath every day,’ Anna said, when she arrived. ‘I want to walk into work. There’s a new development down from the old mill.’

  ‘By the river? I bet that’s expensive.’

  ‘Too much on my own, but it’s two bedrooms.’ Anna shrugged. ‘I was hoping you’d come and look at it with me. You know, if you want.’

  ‘I want,’ Katie said. She took the particulars from Anna and checked the rent. It was practically the same as her current place. ‘Why is it so cheap?’

  Anna looked at her. ‘You think that’s cheap?’

  ‘Well, nothing around here is cheap, but you know—’

  Anna shook her head. ‘I forget you’re rich.’

  ‘I’m not rich,’ Katie said.

  ‘Your family is, though. It makes a difference. You know you’ve got a safety cushion, whatever happens.’ Anna spoke without rancour, but it still stung.

  ‘I pay my own way.’

  ‘I’m not having a go,’ Anna said. ‘I’m jealous.’

  ‘But I don’t take money from my dad.’

  ‘I’m not saying that you do. Just that if it all goes tits up, you know he’ll bail you out. It’s security.’

  ‘That’s not—’

  ‘When your car needed a new clutch last month, who paid for it?’

  ‘That’s different. I need a car and there’s a service-agreement thingy with the garage—’

  ‘Which your dad bought. When he bought the car.’

  Katie forced a smile. ‘You might have a point.’

  ‘Now, take me.’ Anna pointed to her chest. ‘I can’t afford a car not because I can’t buy one, but because I know I don’t have the income to fix it when it goes wrong or needs a service or whatever. I want to start a business but I don’t have the capital and no bank will lend me the money so I’m stuck working for Patrick Allen. For now, at least.’

  There was an awkward pause. Then Katie said, ‘We could always rob a bank.’ She offered Anna the bottle of water.

  ‘It’s good to keep our options open,’ Anna said. ‘It’s a shame you can’t magic up some cash. That would be handy.’

  Katie did not want to talk about magic. ‘When shall we visit the flat?’

  Anna’s smile could’ve been seen from space. ‘Now?’

  The flat was in a new development by the river, imaginatively called the Riverside Development on a hoarding that Katie had been walking past and not really seeing for the past year or so.

  ‘I thought this would be luxury. You know, the million-pound stuff.’

  ‘Patrick told me that the contract was dependent on them building affordable housing. Something to do with government quotas.’

  ‘Oh, God, Patrick doesn’t own these, too, does he?’

  ‘Not sure. He might’ve just been involved because of the mayor thing.’

  ‘I keep forgetting about that. It’s so archaic.’

  ‘It’s nice, though,’ Anna said, looking up at the building.

  Some of the windows had tiny balconies and it had that clean, Lego-look of a brand-new modern build. They’d added decorative touches, moulded to look reminiscent of the Victorian mill that stood further up the river, but not gone overboard.

  ‘Besides,’ Anna said, pressing the entry phone, ‘I think the million-pound set require original fireplaces for their cash. They wouldn’t touch a box like this.’

  Inside, the letting agent showed them around. The second bedroom was, predictably, smaller than the master, but it wasn’t too bad. Not bad enough to cause seething resentment, which, in Katie’s experience of shared accommodation, was very important. The kitchen was actually a little bigger than the one in her current flat, with more cupboard space and a tiny breakfast nook for dining. Everything was painted tasteful cream, the floors were newly laid laminate and rubber tile, and the switch plates and plug sockets were shiny chrome. It smelled of paint and MDF and was utterly quiet.
r />   Katie stood in the middle of the living room while Anna was checking out the water pressure in the bathroom and listened. Nothing. No voices, no echoes, no weird feelings, no coldness. She looked around, studying the blank white walls and the air around her. No ghosts, no after images, no floating lights. Just some dust motes in a shaft of sunlight falling on a pristine, wood-grain-effect floor.

  Katie heard the agent and Anna talking and then they came in from the hall. ‘It’s a really good use of space,’ the agent was saying.

  ‘Do you know what this was built on?’ Katie said.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘This building. Was there something here before? Or was it just open space?’

  ‘Um…’ The agent hesitated. She looked at her clipboard as if it might contain the answer. ‘I don’t think there was anything here. It was just, like, ground.’

  ‘What do you think of it?’ Anna asked. Her eyes were shining and her expression was hopeful.

  ‘It’s perfect,’ Katie said. ‘I think we should take it.’

  ‘Yay!’ Anna grabbed her in a hug.

  Katie hugged her back, thinking of how perfectly peaceful the flat was. No history. No ghosts.

  Chapter 20

  The feeling of triumph didn’t last for long. Anna had suggested a celebratory drink in The Red Lion and Katie had called Max. She had just finished telling them about her success at the cricket pavilion when she felt the atmosphere change.

  ‘So, where did he go?’ Anna said, her eyes wide.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Katie said, trying to maintain a breezy tone. ‘Heaven, if you believe that stuff. Or nowhere, I suppose, if you don’t.’

  Max shook his head. ‘I can’t believe you went to a ghost for advice. And then killed another one. And you called me immoral.’

  ‘I didn’t kill anybody. He was already dead.’ Katie put her hand to her necklace and touched the revolver.

  ‘Semantics. And you’re being too trusting of this Henry guy,’ Max said. ‘I don’t like it.’

  ‘He told me he was bad. I’m sure he’d have lied if he was really bad, if you see what I mean.’

  ‘Or maybe he could sense that you’d know if he was lying, or maybe he was feeding you the “bad guy trying to go straight” line. Girls love that.’

  ‘You’d know, of course,’ Katie said.

  ‘I told you, I was brought up to con. It might not be nice, but it can be useful. Like now. It’s useful and it’s telling me that this ghost is not to be trusted—’ He broke off. ‘I can’t believe I just said that.’

  ‘I don’t trust him, but I know he wants something and he thinks I can deliver it. He wants something, I want something. I don’t have to trust him completely — I’m not marrying him or anything.’

  ‘But he can’t hurt you, can he?’ Anna said, her eyebrows pulled down in concern. ‘He’s a ghost.’

  ‘What about when Violet took control of Barton? You’re telling me you’re willing to let Henry do that to you?’

  ‘I don’t think I have a choice. I can’t live like this. Have you got any idea how many dead people there are? I mean, seriously, there are ghosts everywhere. They’re noisy. They’re scary. They’re angry. They’re really, really sad. I’ve got to be able to control this or I’m not going to cope. I’m going to go mental.’

  ‘I know.’ Anna put her hand on Katie’s arm. ‘It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.’

  ‘But it isn’t,’ Katie said. ‘I’m sorry to be dramatic and everything, but I really, really, can’t do this any more. I can’t have all these voices and feelings. I need to have some control over it.’

  Anna shot a worried look at Max and Katie took a deep breath to try and calm herself. She didn’t want to frighten Anna. She didn’t want to burden her but at the same time she wanted to lay her head on Anna’s shoulder and cry.

  ‘There must be another way,’ Max said. ‘There must be other people who can do what you can do. If we can find them, they’ll be able to tell you how to control it.’

  ‘What about your aunt?’ Anna said. ‘She’s cool.’

  ‘No.’ Katie shook her head. ‘I don’t think she can help.’

  ‘Back to you, then,’ Max said. ‘What about Violet? What if she’s like your spirit guide? The kind of thing Barton claims to have. What if you’re supposed to work with her, relay messages or whatever?’

  ‘I’m nothing like Barton,’ Katie said, insulted.

  ‘I know that,’ Max said gently.

  It would be nice if it were that neat. ‘I don’t think so. Apart from anything else, Violet isn’t in contact with any other spirits. They all seem to be separate, unaware of each other. It’s like they’re occupying different dimensions or something.’

  ‘Like in Doctor Who,’ Anna said triumphantly. ‘I told you.’

  *

  Katie went to End House. The back door was open and she called, ’It’s me,’ as she stepped inside. Gwen and a woman with a red headscarf over short grey hair were sitting at the kitchen table. ‘Sorry,’ Katie said, making to walk through into the hallway. ‘Don’t mind me.’ Gwen’s consultations didn’t usually take that long.

  ‘This is Hannah Ash,’ Gwen said, standing up. ‘We’re glad you’re here.’

  Great. Two wise women. Katie turned around and sized up Hannah Ash.

  ‘I’ve got something to tell you,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s my thing. I get these messages, things I have to pass on. I don’t always understand them, sometimes they’re in a language I don’t even speak, but I have to pass them on. There was one in Russian once, it sounded amazing but I had no idea what I was saying and this bloke, well, he...’ She trailed off.

  Katie folded her arms. ‘Go on, then.’

  ‘Rude,’ Gwen said. ‘Sorry,’ she said to Hannah.

  ‘No skin off my nose,’ Hannah said. ‘Keep the light.’

  Katie waited a beat then, when Hannah took a sip of her water, she said, ‘That’s it? Helpful.’

  ‘The light as in “go into the light”? Like with ghosts?’ Gwen said.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Hannah said. ‘It’s a message for her, not the spirits.’

  ‘Does it mean anything to you?’ Gwen said. She looked so anxious that some of Katie’s irritation drained away. It wasn’t Gwen’s fault. She shook her head.

  Hannah was getting to her feet. ‘Thank you for the water.’

  ‘That’s it?’ Katie said. ‘You drop some unhelpful, cryptic rubbish and then leave? What kind of power is that?’

  Hannah gave her a steady look. ‘You tell me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Gwen said again. ‘Katie—’

  ‘I’ve had worse,’ Hannah said. ‘Besides. She’ll feel really guilty when she works out what it means. I don’t get messages about the small stuff.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Katie said. She was being childish but she didn’t care. Hannah Ash could take her special sodding message and shove it where the sun didn’t shine.

  ‘I met a girl from the Iron family once, she gave messages, too, but they were trivial ones. Like about which brand of washing machine to buy, or to wear blue more often because it suited them. Imagine that, travelling across the country to find someone you don’t know just to give them advice on whether to make chocolate or vanilla cupcakes for the school bake stall.’

  Katie crossed her arms and stared at Hannah Ash, not saying anything, until Hannah gave a slight nod and turned to leave.

  Gwen followed Hannah out, still apologising, and Katie helped herself to a glass of water.

  ‘There was no need for that,’ Gwen said when she came back.

  ‘Things are a bit difficult right now,’ she said. ‘I don’t need wannabe witches giving me cryptic tips. I need proper information. Real knowledge.’ Katie was annoyed to feel her throat closing up. ‘And I don’t trust her,’ she finished.

  ‘There’s a surprise,’ Gwen said. She got up and filled the kettle. ‘Tea? Or are you angry with me, too?’

  Katie hadn’t inte
nded to tell Gwen about the ghost in the cricket pavilion, but she found that she couldn’t stop herself. She was glad she’d waited until Gwen had put down the kettle, though, as she looked as if Katie had punched her. ‘You did what?’

  It wasn’t the reaction Katie had been hoping for. The bad feeling she’d had after the boy had solidified got worse. ‘I was trying to help him to pass over or whatever ghosts are supposed to do.’

  ‘How?’ When she was angry, Gwen looked a bit like Ruby. Katie stifled the urge to tell her. That wouldn’t improve Gwen’s mood.

  ‘I don’t know. I put my hands inside him. Here.’ Katie pointed to her own chest. ‘And I told him it was okay to move on but he didn’t. Then I took my hands away and he disappeared.’

  ‘How many times have I told you not to mess with something if you don’t understand it? You could’ve been hurt.’

  ‘But I wasn’t. Besides, I don’t have any way of understanding this. Unless Iris left some instructions you’re not telling me about—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And she doesn’t appear to be here.’ Katie waved around the kitchen, angry now. ‘I can’t exactly ask her. I can’t ask anyone. I’m doing my best.’

  ‘I know,’ Gwen said. ‘I’m sorry. I told you it wouldn’t be easy.’

  ‘I’ve got to believe that I’m supposed to help them,’ Katie said. She reached for Gwen’s hand and squeezed it. ‘I thought the boy would want to move on because why would he want to stay? Reliving his last moments over and over again.’

  Gwen sat forward, her face suddenly pale. ‘Do people get trapped like that?’

  ‘I think so.’

  Gwen bit her lip. ‘What if something is trapped here? Things haven’t been exactly working for me recently and I wondered—’

  Katie got up and left the kitchen. She walked around the house slowly, pausing in each room and listening. There were echoes. A feeling of happiness in Gwen and Cam’s bedroom, a slight sense of alarm in the living room, and a coldness in the dining room. Katie looked up at the ceiling. It was smoothly plastered now. There was no evidence of where the ceiling had come down, killing Lily Thomas. Lily Thomas had given Katie a spell that had almost killed her and then she’d attacked Gwen with a knife, but the ceiling had caved in and killed her instead. As if the house itself had been protecting Gwen. ‘Iris?’ she said, feeling a little bit foolish when there was no reply.