Dylan felt his legs tingle and the world become slightly wobbly.
‘Had me worried about how I’d ever use it again.’ In one snap movement, Gloom pulled his axe from beneath his coat and held it to Dylan’s nose. His face then stretched into a smile. ‘But she’s still good. I’ll see you inside.’ Gloom tucked the axe back into his belt, hobbled to the front steps and joined the crowd.
‘And no one thinks that’s creepy?’ Dylan exhaled and tugged at his collar.
‘He’s a natural storyteller,’ Edgar said. ‘He’s won the Ghost Club annual story competition three times in a row.’
‘Pssst!’
The three ghost catchers turned to see the faint glow of Bartholomew appear behind them. ‘What’s wrong?’ He frowned at Dylan, then smiled. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘I think I very nearly became one.’
‘Ready for your big night?’ Edgar asked.
‘Truth is, I’m a bit nervous. How do I look?’ He held out his coat and showed off his white shirt and polished boots.
‘Like a real gentleman,’ Angeline admired.
‘No one’s ever said that before,’ Bartholomew said quietly. ‘I owe you all such a lot. An’ after all the things I did to you – I wouldn’t ’ave blamed you if you’d given up on me.’
‘We don’t give up,’ Angeline said. ‘It’s part of our oath.’
Bartholomew laughed. ‘Somethin’ tells me you never give up.’
‘You should try working with her,’ Dylan said.
‘I didn’t like it at the time, I ’ave to say, but bein’ caught in that machine o’ yours was the best thing that’s ’appened to me.’ He met Angeline’s eye. ‘No one’s ever listened to me before like you did.’
‘Well, not only are they going to listen to you now, they are going to travel miles to do it.’
Bartholomew took her hand and kissed it. Angeline felt a gentle chill against her skin. ‘I’ll be able to do it, knowing you’re there.’
He disappeared as the last of the guests handed their coats to the waiters and entered the castle.
Angeline didn’t move.
‘It’s cold out here and you’ve destroyed your scarf,’ Dylan said.
She still didn’t move.
‘And I think our star performer requires your presence inside,’ Edgar added.
Angeline sighed and nodded.
Dylan quickly darted to one side of her with Edgar on the other. ‘We’ll make sure to fend off any life-threatening conversations and terrifying requests to pass the salt. Okay?’
Angeline smiled. ‘Okay. Let’s do it.’
At the end of a long dining table lit with candles and lined with excited guests, Mr Reginald Griswold stood and tapped his fork against his raised crystal glass. The room instantly fell silent.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the official reopening of Castle Koszmar. A place of history, legend . . . and ghosts.’
The room filled with feverish murmuring.
Reginald’s shaved cheeks were rosy, his hair neatly cut and eyes alive with what was about to happen. ‘For one night only, Philomena Rose, the world-famous psychic, will be our special guest to summon up spirits from the castle’s past.’
Grandma Rose stood to eager applause. She bowed to the glee-filled faces and held up her hand for them to stop.
‘Thank you, one and all.’ Her voice was grand. ‘Firstly, I would like to assure you all that you are perfectly safe. Although ghosts may seem frightening, they are often simply spirits who have lost their way and mean us no harm.’
‘Except for the ones who try to kill us,’ Dylan mumbled.
‘For tonight’s visit from the other side, we will need to create the perfect conditions.’ She clicked her fingers and the lights snapped out. There were a few gasps. ‘No sudden movements, no cameras or flashes, and I ask that you remain as still and quiet as possible.’
The guests settled until there wasn’t a peep.
‘There are several ghosts who walk the corridors of Castle Koszmar, but by far the most famous is Bartholomew Griswold, son of Lord Marley Griswold. He was an accomplished horseman, keen student and . . .’ She paused for effect. ‘A brave, selfless hero.’
She closed her eyes, lifted her chin and took a deep breath. ‘If I concentrate hard enough, I may be able to feel his presence.’
The hall was deathly silent. Small quivers of candlelight lit the guests’ faces.
‘Ghosts can be quite shy, but if we’re patient, we may capture a glimpse of our ethereal friend.’
A few moments of silence passed. An owl hooted outside.
‘I feel a presence,’ Grandma Rose whispered.
Heads turned as a door at the end of the hall slowly creaked open. Hands were held and hearts quickened.
‘I think he may be here.’
A nervous giggle escaped from a guest and was quickly silenced.
Followed by the sound of footsteps.
‘If we’re lucky, ladies and gentlemen,’ Grandma Rose said, ‘we may have the privilege of seeing this young hero, who at the tender age of only ten, threw himself into a cold, reed-filled pond to save the life of a damsel in distress. He gallantly risked his own life and pulled her from the icy waters.’
An eager whisper broke through the silence. ‘There he is!’
The faint outline of a boy appeared before them. Little by little he became clearer. He was pacing slowly, with a book in one hand and a flower in the other, while floating a little above the floor.
‘It was said that Bartholomew was a kind boy,’ Grandma Rose continued. ‘He had a thirst for knowledge and justice and was quite the romantic.’
Bartholomew walked a few more paces and stood beside a pretty young woman seated at the dining table. She began to tremble. Bartholomew looked down, as if he was gazing directly at her, and smiled. He turned another page in his book, took a few more steps and slowly began to fade away.
Grandma gave a regal wave of her hand. ‘And he’s gone.’
There was an immediate outbreak of clapping and cheering.
‘He was right next to me,’ the young woman said breathlessly. ‘He looked right at me.’
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Mr Griswold stood, ‘thank you again to Ms Philomena Rose, and now dinner is served.’
The lights came up and the doors swung open. A line of waiters entered the room carrying plates of crispy baked potatoes, golden roasted quails and jugs of steaming gravy. The room was alive with a flurry of astonished chatter and waving forks.
‘Not bad for a first appearance,’ Angeline beamed.
‘He never could have done it without you,’ Dylan said. ‘How did you know what to say to him in the Spectretron?’
‘Some ghosts are just lonely.’
‘Lonely?’
‘Like us, they can feel neglected, or that they don’t fit in. Don’t you ever feel like that?’
Dylan nodded and stared at his dinner plate. ‘Do you think I’m ever going to be any good at ghost-catching?’
‘Are you kidding?’ Angeline dropped her fork. ‘You’re a natural! You were the first one to suggest the ghost was someone in the Griswold family who felt they’d been overlooked and pointed out he was good with axes.’
‘Because there was one embedded in a door.’
‘You stood up to him when he charged at you on his horse.’
‘Because I thought he was going to run straight through me.’
‘And you protected me when you thought I was in danger.’
‘I threw you into a bush when you were nowhere near danger. All that shows is how bad I am at this.’
‘I think it shows the opposite.’
Dylan blushed.
‘
And just to state the obvious – you were the one who caught Bartholomew in the Spectrovac, which proves you’re braver than you think.’
‘Most people take one look at me and think I’m a wimp.’
‘Grandma Rose says you have to be careful judging people before you know them.’
Angeline looked around her. ‘And apart from all that . . .’ She paused as if she was struggling to find the right words. ‘Grandpa Huffman says when you click with someone there’s no explaining why – it just happens. And when it does, you need to hold onto that. I am nervous around people outside the Ghost Club, which means I don’t have many friends.’ She looked up. ‘But now I have you.’
‘I’m not sure if that’s a good thing for your health.’
‘It will be if you don’t throw me into too many more bushes.’ She laughed. ‘How long have you been able to see ghosts?’
‘All my life. When I was a little kid, I thought we lived with a house full of people until Grandpa spotted me talking to some of them and pointed out that they were ghosts.’
‘I don’t mean to be rude,’ Angeline said carefully, ‘but if you’ve been able to see ghosts all your life, why are you afraid of them?’
Dylan’s smile faded away. ‘Do you promise not to tell anyone?’
Angeline crossed her heart. ‘I promise.’
‘A year ago, my dad left for an expedition to the Amazon, searching for a rare butterfly, and he never came back. My mum and I moved in with Grandpa while we waited to hear news, but there was nothing. I never used to be this scared and now I seem to worry all the time that things will go wrong around me.’ He took a deep breath and whispered, ‘And I’m scared that the next ghost might be him.’
He looked down and dabbed his sleeve against his eyes.
‘So that’s why you found it hard to listen to Grandmaster Fleischmann when he tried to tell you about the Ghost Club?’
Dylan nodded.
‘But your dad might still be alive.’
‘I know.’ He tried to smile. ‘I just want him to come home.’
Angeline rested her hand on his back. ‘And we’ll be here with you when he does.’
‘Grandpa can’t know I’m afraid. He’s one of the world’s most celebrated ghost catchers. I need to be even a fraction as good as he is, so I can say thank you for everything he’s done for us. That’s why I can’t let him down and why I have to be here in the club.’ He paused. ‘Now that you know how messed up I am, you can change your mind about working with me.’
She shook her head. ‘Now I want you on our team even more.’
‘But will I learn all I need to learn before I get killed or kill someone else?’
‘Absolutely,’ Angeline said with her trademark smile. ‘Under the guidance of Edgar and me, you are in very good hands.’
In the distance, walking among unsuspecting diners and eavesdropping on their animated conversations, Bartholomew looked up and gave Dylan and Angeline a smile.
‘Are all the ghosts you deal with as much trouble as Bartholomew?’
‘Not all of them. Some are completely harmless. Most live quite happily with humans, but there are some who go a little overboard, and they’re the ones we need to help.’
Dylan looked to either side of him and whispered, ‘But what about the demons?’
‘Demons?’
‘Gloom said he was attacked by a demon and that’s why he has that bad leg.’
‘There were no demons. It was an accident.’
‘An accident?’
‘He tripped up the stairs going to a Ghost Club meeting and broke his leg in three places. It was from then that he went from active ghost-catching to lighter duties.’
‘He made it up?’ Dylan looked at Gloom, who had a small crowd gathered around him, listening to what seemed to be another of his stories. A small shiver ran down Dylan’s back. Gloom caught his eye and gave him a wave.
‘Welcome to the Ghost Club.’ Angeline held up a tall glass of raspberry fizz. Dylan clinked his glass against hers. ‘Here’s to ghost-catching together for a very long time.’
Having always been short and a bit of a coward, Deborah dreamed of being braver and stronger, which is probably why she writes books about spies, ghosts, soccer legends and characters good with swords who take on sea monsters and evil harbour lords. She is the author of the Max Remy Superspy series, Jasper Zammit (Soccer Legend) series, The Remarkable Secret of Aurelie Bonhoffen and Grimsdon, about a flooded city, a group of lost children, sneaker waves and flying machines. She’s won awards for her books but mostly hopes, one day, to be as brave as the characters inside.
Deb is currently hard at work on the next book in the Ghost Club series. Find out more about what she’s up to at www.deborahabela.com.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Version 1.0
Ghost Club 1: The New Kid
ePub ISBN 9781742750811
Copyright © Deborah Abela
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
A Random House Australia book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney NSW 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at www.randomhouse.com.au/offices
First published by Random House Australia in 2012
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Author: Abela, Deborah, 1966–
Title: The new kid [electronic resource] / Deborah Abela.
ISBN: 978 1 74275 081 1 (ebook)
Series: Abela, Deborah, 1966–. Ghost club; 1.
Target Audience: For primary school age.
Subjects: Ghost stories.
Dewey Number: A823.4
Cover and internal illustrations by Juhi Yi
Cover design by Leanne Beattie
eBook production by Midland Typesetters, Australia
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