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‘Do you do all the cooking and housework yourself?’ Eve asked Enid, as they all sat around the mahogany dining table that evening.
Enid handed her a dish containing baked vegetables. ‘If we have a number of guests, a woman from Bayletonville comes in to help. Last month we had a group of nine from Canberra. They were psychical researchers.’
‘Ghost hunters we call them,’ George said with a grin.
Rick looked up eagerly. ‘Did they see any ghosts?’
Eve saw that gravy from his plate had spilt onto the lace tablecloth.
‘Well, they detected some sort of paranormal activity,’ said George.
‘Oh yeah,’ said Gerry, looking at him suspiciously. He took a gulp from his wine glass.
Eve glanced at Gerry from under her lashes. His face held a scornful expression. The overhead gasolier made his eyes seem hollow and gave his face an unusual pallor.
‘What sort of equipment do they use, these …’ He hesitated on the word. To Eve’s relief, he finally said ‘… ghost busters.’
‘Who you gonna call?’ muttered Rick.
George put down his knife and fork and leant back in his chair. His voice took on a lecturing tone. ‘Electromagnetic field detectors to identify static electricity; digital thermometers to measure fluctuations in temperature. You know, there’s always a sharp drop in temperature when a ghost is around. They also use infrared surveillance cameras –’
Gerry interrupted him. ‘I read somewhere those ghost photos are all bollocks, or have some logical explanation.’
George frowned at him. ‘Some might be fake, but most are real. The group here last month also had a digital voice recorder and some sort of condenser microphone. They seemed excited about what they picked up.’
He glanced at Enid who was nodding her head rapidly.
‘I would be really interested in their findings,’ said Eve. She narrowed her eyes at Gerry.
Enid addressed herself to Eve: ‘We host séances as well. There’s an excellent medium, Janet, comes over from Griffith.’
George turned to Gerry, ‘There are ghosts here, mate. We’ve seen and heard them.’
Rick sat up straight and stared at him. ‘Dude, that’s awesome!’ He glanced up at two framed sepia photographs on the wall opposite − portraits of Patrick and Catherine O’Brien. Patrick, looking stern, was seated, cross-legged. Catherine was standing, one hand resting lightly on the top of a carved wooden chair. Her youthful face looked placid.
Enid leaned towards Rick and gently tapped his arm. ‘Animals can feel the presence of ghosts, you know. When we first came to live here three years ago we brought our little poodle, Toby. From day one he just kept shaking and whining most of the time. I had to take him back to Sydney to my sister’s. And last year a stray cat decided to adopt us. She was a dear little thing but she only stayed one night. We never saw her again.’
Eve caught her wistful look.
As Enid was clearing away dishes, Gerry excused himself, declining dessert. Eve was surprised.
‘But it’s your favourite, Gerry – pavlova.’
He just shook his head as he left the dining room, Eve noticed that he looked pale and had his hand pressed against his side. Those stomach pains again. She had been urging him for weeks to see Dr Grey, but he always had some excuse.
That was probably the reason he had been testy with George. It was out of character for him to be so rude, she thought.
Eve and Rick stayed on for Enid’s pavlova with passionfruit and cream, Rick readily accepting Gerry’s portion. They left the dining room just as rain started to splatter against the windows.
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