by Jerry eBooks
Mark said, “He was up there, looking out over the rooftops. He thought the glow caused by streetlights were towns on fire.”
“Can you see Charlie now?” his sister asked.
Mark looked up at the old castle wall. The wind blew, making his eyes water. Just for a moment, he thought someone faraway called his name. “Mark . . . Mark . . . ”
He realized it was only the crow, standing on a branch, at the other side of the castle grounds, making the noise.
“No, I don’t see him,” he told her.
The breeze blew an icy blast into his face. His eyes grew even more watery. The castle ruins, and the trees, and the pathways, became blurred and distorted. All of a sudden, he saw figures: the boy wearing the bowtie, the teenage soldier in the brown uniform with blood down the front, the girls in their long dresses, the tall children with heart-shaped faces. And he saw Charlie. Charlie smiled and waved at him.
Mark said, “The castle is a gathering point for ghosts. The church in town is as well. I can’t work out if there are any rules as to how ghosts work. There doesn’t seem to be any logic to them, because even though it’s like they want to be together, they don’t seem to be able to speak to each other.And ghosts aren’t fixed in just one place in time. I realized that when I was ill. If each year in time is like one page in a book, then a ghost is like a pin that’s been pushed all the way through the pages. A ghost can be in different times at the same time. Do you know what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I think so. Will you ever see Charlie again?”
Mark Whitby did not answer. He didn’t know if he could tell his little sister that he believed that one day he would. Maybe in seventy or eighty years, or however long his life lasted. One day he’d find himself back here with the ghosts of Pontefract Castle. He’d formed a bond with this place now, and with whatever silently moved among its ancient stones. Yes, inevitably, he would return. Knowing this would happen didn’t frighten him.Because, when that time finally came, he’d find a friend waiting for him. He would not be alone.