Meg stepped toward the ghosts and Ariel’s hunched form. As she passed Will, he squeezed her shoulder, but never missed a beat with his singing. Meg walked closer until she was within inches of the ghosts.
“That’s not your little girl,” she said, pointing to Ariel. “That’s the wrong one.” Then Meg pointed to Kay Kay. “She’s the one I told you about. She’s the one who needs you.”
“Ah!”
At first, Meg wasn’t sure who’d spoken, but it came from the manor ghost. A thrill of hope surged through Meg’s heart. Was it working? The manor ghost quivered. The music seemed to be holding the ghosts’ attention, but Kay Kay’s silver eyes were still locked on Ariel. Will sang louder, his voice cracking on the high notes.
Meg watched eagerly. The manor ghost glanced at Kay Kay. Meg hoped to see true love or rapture, but Kay Kay scowled and lines of suspicion darkened the manor ghost’s face. The manor ghost draped her green sleeves over Ariel, and Kay Kay descended to Ariel’s other side. They both placed their hands on the little girl’s chest. Ariel moaned.
Meg felt frantic. As long as the music was there, the ghosts were ready to listen, but what was the right thing to tell them? Beside her, Will was singing desperately. His voice strained, replicating the dinging and donging in an endless rhyme. If only she’d truly found out what the ghost girl wanted. If only she’d had time . . .
She had half an answer. She knew what the manor ghost wanted. She’d have to guess at the rest. She’d been in the well herself. How would she feel alone and hurt in there . . . possibly dying? She let the feeling wash over her.
“You don’t need a playmate,” she said slowly, feeling out the truth of the words. She spoke directly to the ghost girl who was on the right side of Ariel. Meg took another step, then knelt beside her. Behind her, Will continued to sing.
“You’re lonely.” She paused. This much she knew. “You think you need a playmate.” Then it came to her. “But what you really need is . . . a mother.”
The ghost girl froze. Only her eyes moved, two quick dots of silver. Meg gathered her courage. She knew she was right.
“You need someone to take care of you,” said Meg, plunging on, more gently now. “You want to be loved, not forgotten.”
For a moment, the ghost girl flicked her eyes back to Meg.
“The well’s horrible,” Meg continued, hurrying on. “You don’t want to stay down there. You don’t want to bring another child down with you. You just need someone to be brave with.”
She was about to go on when something startled Meg. A movement close beside her.
Deep down, from somewhere far away, Ariel heard music. The sound stirred her. She shifted and moaned. The song. The sad one Kay Kay was always singing. But it wasn’t Kay Kay singing; it was Will’s voice. She was all mixed up. It was a dream, and she was asleep. But why was she sleeping outside? She felt something hard pressed under her elbow. The party—that was it. She’d been outside at Kay Kay’s party. Ariel reached for the doll, and for a panicked moment didn’t feel the familiar knobby head, then her fingers closed on the doll’s hair and she pulled it close and nuzzled it. Again, the warm feeling spread through her chest. She gave a contented sigh and settled down once more. Here she was as snug and secure as being inside her mother’s best hug.
The singing changed. More desperate. More Will. He was frightened. His fear poked into her warm blankety feeling. Why was Will scared? His fear kept prodding her. Her big brother. She struggled against the tug of the doll’s cozy embrace. She had to be with him. She blinked, kicked her legs and forced herself to sit up. She blinked again. She couldn’t see Will. For some reason, there was too much prickly green cloth in the way, plus there was Kay Kay blocking her view. Kay Kay was kneeling beside her, not singing, not humming. Simply staring. Staring fiercely and hopefully at Ariel, staring with those silver eyes.
She wants something, thought Ariel. She shook her head, trying to think, but her body felt slow, weighted down with rocks, or half asleep. Something from me. Of course. She thinks I forgot. I never gave her a birthday present. Her original gift, the silver buckle, was nowhere to be seen. It must have dropped when she fell. She’d have to give her something else. Ariel ignored the sharp twinge that shot through her heart and forced her arms forward.
“For you,” she said, and handed Kay Kay the doll.
Kay Kay sat back on her ankles, clutching the doll. Warm blue light pulsed through her chest, her silver eyes sparkled and her shoulders relaxed. She flung her head back, her face tilted at the sky, and made a choking cry.
“Mama?”
Her voice startled everyone. It was small and childlike, just like any lost child.
With a bustle of green velvet, the manor ghost stood up and abruptly swung her gaze away from Ariel. Then she backed up several paces. Even from that distance, her eyes zeroed in on the doll buried in Kay Kay’s arms.
“Mama!” Kay Kay called again.
At the first “mama,” the manor ghost had dropped her menacing embrace of Ariel. But at the second one, she froze. Meg watched breathlessly as the manor ghost shifted her eyes up until they left the doll and settled fully on Kay Kay’s face. At last she was looking at the ghost child.
Meg’s hope surged. She waited. Two seconds. Five seconds. Will kept singing, croaking out the tune. The two ghosts were watching each other intently. Then the manor ghost stirred.
“Poor child,” she said.
“Mama,” said Kay Kay, stumbling toward her, tripping on the hem of her own blue dress. “I don’t like it. It’s cold and dark.” Tears streamed down her dirty face. She tucked the doll under her armpit to free her hands and lunged forward. “Mama, hold my hand. I’m scared to die.”
That was it. What Kay Kay really wanted. Someone to be with her as she died.
Off to the west, the bells began to ring. The ghost child reached out both hands. The manor ghost was now a vibrant green. Kay Kay was glowing and trembling, blazing with blue light. As the manor ghost continued to gaze at her, the silver light in the little girl’s eyes rippled throughout her body, sliding over her smudged face, grubby pinafore and hungry hands, transforming them. Kay Kay was shining as only a child who’s been seen and treasured can do. Meg blinked at the brilliance. Kay Kay stood before them, the bare beauty of her soul exposed.
“Oh, darling!” the manor ghost cried, and rushed forward.
“Mama!”
The two ghostly figures met. Child hands and mother hands grasped each other in a shriek of passion. Kay Kay crumpled against the green dress, more than a century of tension released at once, and the manor ghost cradled her shimmering head and rocked her.
The ancient sound of bell song surrounded them. Will’s song mixed with the clang of the tower bells as the ghost tune rolled over them. A gust of chilled air brushed Meg’s shoulders.
A flash of green burst forth.
“They’re going, they’re going!” cried Meg.
The two figures dissolved into one. They lifted above the ground in a dazzling blur of green-blue flame. The flame whirled above the well, then shot to the sky. A primal sound, raw and final, lingered around them: the sound of two people’s innermost longings breaching into the open sky.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
The Weight of Longings
The Griffinage garden erupted in a cacophony of sirens, shouts, and squealing brakes. Officer Targent’s squad car pulled up, followed by two yellow ambulances from South Mendip Community Hospital. Uncle Ben burst out of the squad car, barking joyously, and bounded at them with dried mud-clotted paws. Officer Targent and Father Casey climbed out of the squad car too. No one heard the golden Mini pull into the driveway.
“We did it!” cried Will, pumping his fist in the air. “We absolutely completely did it!”
“Did you ever hear such a wild yell?” asked Meg, laughing.
“Better than fireworks,” he said. “Light show, music, primal screams.”
Beside them, Ariel sat up, stari
ng wide-eyed where the ghosts had been. Color flooded back to her face. Her nose bubbled, and she wiped it. Meg threw her arms around her little sister. Will hugged her too, even though Ariel’s snot got all over him. He quickly backed away, and as he did so, a shiny glint of metal lying in the dirt caught his eye. The ghost’s copper brooch. I guess metal doesn’t vanish the way ghosts do, thought Will, and slipped it into his pocket.
A freckled hand nudged him aside. Officer Targent knelt down in front of Ariel. He felt for a pulse and, ignoring the hospital staff who came hurrying up with a stretcher, scooped Ariel up in his arms and hustled her into the house.
“He’s probably trained in first aid,” Will said to Meg. “Police officers usually are. Did you see how fast he tore over here? And listen to those sirens! Oh look, here’s Shep. He’s by the stile. Shep! It’s okay! We’re over here!”
Aunt Effie stood bewildered, the blue flash of emergency vehicle lights turning her hair a vivid shade of blue, her clothes spattered with fresh mud. She nodded vaguely when Officer Targent called out that the kids were all right. Then Shep hobbled into view in his hospital gown using a stick for a crutch, and Aunt Effie burst into tears.
Aunt Effie spent the next few minutes collapsed in the burgundy armchair, pulling at her sweater buttons. The medics swarmed around the Griffinage until Officer Targent marched them out.
“But, Officer!” protested one of the medics. “Cardiogenic shock, nonresponsive, shallow breathing! That was the hospital report. And they just took her against doctor’s orders! We can’t leave her here with no medical care.” The medic was a young fellow, raised in Birmingham. He hadn’t grown up on Somerset ghost stories. Officer Targent shook his head.
“Find one thing wrong with that girl,” he challenged. “Find one! Never mind, you won’t. Nothing more than a sprained ankle.”
Casey, Shep, and Officer Targent spent a long time huddled in the hall talking.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you, Shep, when you peeled out so quickly,” Father Casey said. “Low fuel! There’s a petrol station across the street.”
“So that’s why . . . ,” Meg began. She and Will were hanging by the door frame, listening in. Officer Targent turned when she spoke and cornered them. “Never move a person who’s fallen by yourself,” commanded Officer Targent sternly. “What if your sister had broken her back? Then you might have hurt her worse. She could be paralyzed.”
“But you did yourself!” said Will. “You carried her in here.”
“Never mind that,” he said, blushing. “I mean before. They just told me what you did with the rope when she was down at the bottom of the well.”
“The well!” cried Aunt Effie. “What is going on here? I’m responsible for these children. Will someone kindly tell me what’s been going on at the Griffinage behind my back?”
“Ghosts, Effie,” said Shep. “Your family’s been part of a Somerset ghost story.”
Half an hour later, Ariel was propped up in the big kitchen chair wrapped in a plaid blanket. She was chatting nonstop, glad to be the center of attention. Uncle Ben had his chocolate head in her lap, and next to her was a plateful of ginger nut cookies and another variety with jam inside called Jammie Dodgers.
“I told you about Kay Kay, you know,” Ariel was saying, with a mouthful of sticky crumbs. “Kay Kay’s been my friend ever since we came.”
“Well, next time you make friends with a ghost, tell us,” said Will.
“But I did tell you. An’ I didn’t know she was a ghost,” said Ariel. Her face drooped. “Now who will play with me?”
“I will,” said Meg, squeezing her hand.
“Me too,” said Will.
Aunt Effie had been uttering words like “dash it all” and “confoundnation,” which Meg was pretty sure wasn’t in the dictionary. Finally, she announced she was completely “flummoxed,” and rummaged in the pantry for supper food. “No time to cook after all this,” she said. “We’ll have to see what’s in the cupboards.”
What was in the cupboards was tinned ham and two Battenberg cakes, which Aunt Effie had been saving for the children’s last night at the Griffinage.
“Cake for supper, anyone?” she asked, sounding more like her old self. So they all sat down, including Shep, to ham sandwiches and thick slices of checkered Battenberg cake for dessert.
“I can’t believe it,” said Will, licking marzipan off his fingers. “They really went for each other. After all this time living in the same village. After all those hundreds of years.”
“Yes, if all this ghost business is true,” said Aunt Effie, “why didn’t the mother and child ghosts simply find each other on their own ages ago? According to you, they’ve had nothing else to do all these years except look for their heart’s desire.”
“I think they couldn’t see each other,” Meg said slowly. “The manor people and the cottage people lived such separate lives. Plus, they were so caught up in their own feelings, they weren’t able to see anything else.” How close together people can live, thought Meg, and not really notice each other. Neighbors. Kids at school. Sometimes even brothers and sisters. She looked at Ariel stuffing pink and yellow sponge cake in her mouth and smiled.
“I’m still finding it a hard story to swallow,” said Aunt Effie, now on her third cup of tea. “Targent just accepted the whole thing and walked out of here meek as a lamb. Not an argument!”
“He’s a local boy, Effie,” said Shep. “Used to chase ghosts himself as a lad, same as me. But I’ll admit he’s a bit stumped. Doesn’t know what to put in his police report. Come to think of it, I’m stumped too. Don’t know why the ghosts behaved so differently with you kids.” His eyes drifted to Will. “Maybe it’s got something to do with your Samhain birthday.”
No one had an answer to that. It was silent for a while. Then Uncle Ben left Ariel’s lap and nuzzled his head into Aunt Effie’s. She sighed and rubbed his ears.
“Yes, you’re forgiven for running away, Uncle,” she said. “Even after I stomped about the muddy fields of Somerset traipsing after you. And me without my wellies! Protecting your puppies, I know.”
She glanced at his dog dish. Uncle Ben had devoured his dinner and licked the bowl clean. She beamed. He was also partially de-mudded. “Leg wash today, full bath tomorrow,” she declared. “No need to add a bath to the day’s excitements.”
“But, Meg, how did you know Kay Kay wanted a mother?” asked Will. “I thought you never learned her real longing.”
“I didn’t. I just guessed,” admitted Meg. “But I’d been in the well myself, so I thought it was right. Plus, everyone needs a mother.” She reached for another slice of the checkerboard cake. “Ugh, my back feels sore. That manor ghost was impossibly heavy! I would have thought a ghost would be light—just air, I mean. But she was crushing.”
“You felt the weight of the ghost’s longing,” said Shep. “A crushing weight, indeed. That’s the burden she was carrying for more than a hundred years, then you carried it for her.”
“That weight was just her feelings?”
“People carry heavy burdens in life,” said Shep. “Frankly, I’m surprised you could bear the weight.” He shook his head and looked at Meg with new respect. “Not sure I could have done what you did—run all that distance from the hospital, and everything else.”
“She’s young,” said Aunt Effie. “That might explain it.”
“Maybe,” said Shep. “But it’s still remarkable.” He looked at Meg again, so intently she blushed.
“Many things have been remarkable today,” said Aunt Effie.
“Not every day you banish a ghost,” said Meg.
“Two ghosts!” said Ariel.
“Or go down a well, dodge the police, and escape from the hospital on a stolen motorcycle,” said Will, grinning.
“Or decide to believe in ghosts,” added Shep, giving his hostess a sidelong glance. “Guess you’re a local now, eh, Effie?”
Just then, the phone jangled and e
veryone jumped.
“That’ll be the police, I’ll wager,” said Aunt Effie, going to answer it. “No one else would call at this hour. Hello, the Griffinage. Oh, Marie!”
“It’s your mother,” she said, cupping her hand over the phone. “She wants to know what we did today. What on earth should I tell her?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The Last Day
Meg heard voices and laughter the moment she woke up. They seemed to be coming from the Griffinage kitchen. Will padded in from down the hall, and Ariel appeared from her alcove.
“What’s going on?” Will asked. “Sounds like a party.”
The Griffinage kitchen was blazing with lights and filled with the aromas of coffee, toast, and eggs. Plates and tea bags were scattered about, and in the midst of it, Shep and Aunt Effie were sitting close together.
“Morning!” Shep called out.
They were dressed in the same clothes as yesterday. Shep even had his hospital gown still on, though he had thrown a sweater over it. Aunt Effie’s big outdoor sweater, Meg noticed. They were holding hands.
“Afraid we stayed up all night,” Aunt Effie said. “There was simply so much to talk about. Never got around to bed, and look, now it’s breakfast.”
“Best night I’ve ever had,” said Shep.
Aunt Effie blushed and laughed.
“Been doing that all night,” said Shep. “Ever since I asked her to marry me.”
“You . . . what?” asked Will.
“Who did the asking?” demanded Aunt Effie.
“Well, it came out just the same,” said Shep. “We’ve decided to quit being neighbors and take up marrying. Isn’t that right, my dear?”
“You . . . what?” said Will again.
“Oh, Aunt Effie!” said Meg.
“An uncle!” said Ariel. “A real uncle!” Uncle Ben barked. “Oh, sorry, Uncle Ben,” Ariel said, and hugged his furry neck. “Two uncles!”
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