Childish Spirits

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Childish Spirits Page 3

by Rob Keeley


  Slowly, Ellie opened her shoulder bag, which she had released when Mum appeared. She took a look inside.

  It was clear there was no one in.

  Invisibly, the boy blew a perfect raspberry.

  Chapter Six

  “Inchwood Manor was gifted to Sir Henry Fitzberranger by the Crown,” the schoolmarmish Internet voice informed Ellie, “in fifteen hundred and eighty-six. It remained in the Fitzberranger family until nineteen hundred and ten, when, with no surviving male heir, the estate passed to the only surviving child, Sarah, and her husband Mortimer Harvey.”

  “Miss Harvey’s family…” Ellie muttered.

  Slowly, she raised her eyes from the computer, looking upward in the direction of the nursery.

  “No surviving male heir…”

  She clicked at the mouse.

  “Well, come on, then! Tell me his name! How old was he?”

  Her eyes widened as she looked at the screen.

  “Edward…”

  The next moment, three things happened at once.

  The screen went blank. The light above her went out. And beneath her feet, Ellie felt a tremor.

  She looked down. The floor was starting to shake.

  She leapt to her feet.

  “Edward!”

  She ran for the door.

  Ellie dashed out of the flat and into the hall. The tremors were getting worse. A portrait fell to the floor as she moved towards the staircase.

  Halfway up the stairs, she almost cannoned into Mum on her way down.

  “Ellie!”

  “Mum? What’s happening?”

  “I think it’s some kind of seismic disturbance. Now, listen. We need to get out of the house.”

  “Earthquake!” Charlie charged past them. For the second time, Mum was nearly knocked flying.

  “Charlie…”

  “Judith!” Marcus’s voice came from below.

  Mum hurried on downstairs.

  Ignoring Mum’s instructions, Ellie headed for the nursery.

  “Edward?” Ellie flung open the nursery door.

  All around her, the toys were taking on lives of their own, shuddering, moving. The train moved forward along the track. Juddered and stopped. Then moved backwards.

  The Boy’s Book of Railways shot from its shelf like a bullet, whizzing past her ear. She ducked. Other books followed, falling to the floor.

  “Edward?” Ellie raised her voice. “That is you, isn’t it? Edward Fitzberranger? Listen, Edward, I know who you are!”

  There was silence.

  Another book flew from the shelf. Ellie dodged as Alice in Wonderland just missed her. She moved further into the room.

  “Edward?”

  On the far wall hung a large portrait – a golden-haired young woman in Victorian dress. Ellie jumped, as the boy suddenly stepped from behind the woman in the painting and floated down into the room.

  “Edward, what is it? What’s going on?”

  Edward stared at her, blue eyes wide with fear.

  “I think I’m being haunted.”

  Across the room, a vase suddenly shattered.

  “Edward.” Ellie spoke firmly. “Is this another one of your tricks?”

  “No!” Edward insisted. “Someone’s coming. Someone I can’t hide from. And I mustn’t be here when they arrive. Ellie, you must help me!”

  Ellie hesitated. She fixed Edward with a stern look she’d borrowed from Mum.

  “Why should I?”

  “What?”

  “Why should I help you?” Ellie said. “You haven’t exactly made my life a bundle of fun since we got here –”

  “Oh, don’t be so rotten!” Edward looked quite spectacularly hurt. “What have I done?”

  “What have –!” Ellie exploded. “Just – covering me with my own breakfast, so my family now thinks I’m loopy. Creeping out of everywhere and trying to scare me. Hurling me downstairs in the middle of the night –!”

  Edward’s mouth set into a sulky look.

  “Well. I was only teasing.”

  Across the room, the piano lid suddenly rose, and fell with a crash.

  Ellie stood with arms folded.

  “All right, then. Apologise to me.”

  “What?”

  “Apologise,” Ellie said. “You Victorians were meant to be so polite. So let’s have a proper Victorian apology.”

  She stared right into Edward’s eyes.

  “Now.”

  Edward stared back at her for a moment.

  “Oh, crikey…”

  Quickly, he gave Ellie something approaching a gentlemanly bow.

  “I apologise, Miss Eleanor,” he said stiffly. “What I did was unforgiveable. I do humbly and sincerely beg your pardon.” He gave Ellie a sour look. “Will that do?”

  “And what about my poetry?” Ellie asked.

  Edward rolled his eyes.

  “It’s wonderful.”

  There was a pause.

  Then Ellie smiled.

  “OK. I’ll help you. You can come down to our flat – if you don’t think we’re too common for you. Then you can tell me what’s going on around here. Come on.”

  She made for the door.

  She had left it open when she entered. But now it was shut. She tried to open it – and couldn’t.

  Something of the conceitedness returned to Edward’s face.

  “Not so clever after all, eh?”

  Ellie gave him a narrow-eyed look.

  “Well,” Edward said. “At least one of us can get through.”

  “No!” Ellie yelled. “You can’t leave me –”

  Edward started to fade – and reappeared. He tried again to do his disappearing trick – and failed.

  “You were saying?” Ellie asked.

  “They’re blocking me!” Edward reached for the door handle. His hand went straight through it. “We’ve got to get this door open!”

  Ellie rattled the door.

  “Someone’s locked it!”

  “It can’t be locked!” Edward insisted. “I threw the key in the lake when I was seven…”

  He stopped.

  The tremors had ceased.

  The toys fell to the floor. Everything was calm.

  Upon the panelling of the door, a shadow was appearing.

  It was the shadow of a woman.

  A light, female voice came from beyond the door.

  “Master Edward?”

  “No…” Edward’s voice sank into a whisper. “No, it can’t be her! It can’t!”

  Very slowly, the door handle started to turn.

  Chapter Seven

  The door swung open.

  “Ellie?” Mum stood in the doorway, frowning. “I thought I told you to get out of the house?”

  Ellie blinked.

  It wasn’t Mum’s voice she’d heard. But there was no one else in the corridor outside the nursery.

  She turned to Edward.

  He’d gone.

  “Seems to have stopped, for the moment,” Mum said. “It was really weird. Not like any earth tremor I’ve ever experienced.”

  She headed for the staircase.

  “Come on. I need to go and rescue Marcus. He got trapped in the drawing room!”

  Ellie remained. Everything was so still. But the scattered toys, the books were proof of what had happened.

  She headed after Mum.

  “So much for a quiet first day.” Back in the flat, Mum moved to the table. The laptop had come back to life. “I see you’ve been researching, after all.” She looked at the screen. “Who was Edward Fitzberranger?”

  “Blind alley,” Ellie said. She moved the mouse and closed the browser. “I thought it might lead me somewhere. It didn’t.” She paused. “Or at least, it hasn’t yet.”

  “I’m pleased to see you behaving sensibly again.” Mum turned away to the kitchen area. “I need a good strong coffee. Want some tea?”

  “Thanks,” Ellie said.

  She sat down at the computer ag
ain. She’d have to go back to that website, as soon as Mum was out of the way.

  What was the truth about Edward? From what she’d found, it looked as though he’d been right in saying this place was his.

  But who was the woman they’d heard?

  “Ellie!” a voice called.

  Ellie jumped.

  “What was that?” Mum asked, with her back turned.

  “I didn’t speak,” Ellie said.

  She looked at the computer. Her eyes bulged.

  A new window had opened on the screen.

  And standing in it, like a video clip, was Edward.

  He gave her a little wave.

  “Found something else?” Mum had seen the change in the screen display out of the corner of her eye. She turned back to the computer.

  Ellie made a grab for the mouse and minimised the window.

  “No,” she said. “I mean – well – maybe. But I need to check it out, first. I… think you might be surprised.”

  “Historical mystery, eh?” Mum passed a mug of tea to Ellie.

  “Something like that.” Ellie cringed, as a strange noise came from deep within the computer.

  It sounded like someone saying: Oi!

  “That’s strange.” Mum reached over, tapping a couple of keys experimentally. “Don’t recognise that sound. Maybe the quake’s affected it.”

  The computer shook slightly.

  “Perhaps I’d better call Technical Support,” Mum said.

  “I think it’s OK.” Ellie directed her voice to the computer. “I think maybe something just needs booting up.”

  “Well, let me know if there are any more problems.” Mum gulped her coffee. “I’d better get back to the office. If you find out any more historical stuff you can start writing some text for the guidebook, if you like.”

  “Thanks,” Ellie said.

  She waited until the green baize door had closed after Mum.

  Then she maximised the window again.

  “That’s a nice thing to do.” Edward reappeared on the screen, looking indignant. “Squashing a fellow. What is this thing I’m in, anyway?”

  “It’s a computer,” Ellie said. “We use them for all kinds of things. Writing letters. Doing sums. Looking things up…”

  “Father had one of those,” Edward said. “He was called a secretary.” He sniffed. “You think you’re so clever, you people. In my time, we ruled the world. And we didn’t need computators, or moving telephones, or those great noisy flying machines that keep coming overhead…”

  “Planes,” Ellie said. “And I think you mean mobiles.” She grinned. “Are you coming out of there, then, or do I have to download you?”

  Edward grimaced. He disappeared from the screen.

  The next moment, he was standing by Ellie’s side.

  “Hmm.” He gave the computer a dirty look. “You know your trouble? Your generation? You’re spoiled.”

  He adjusted his collar.

  “You can’t know anything about it!” Ellie said. “I mean, you can’t have seen any of the things that have happened since your time, not properly. You were just a –”

  She stared at Edward.

  “You were just a boy.”

  She stopped.

  She remembered the words she’d seen on the Internet.

  No surviving male heir…

  And for the first time, she realised properly what a child’s ghost must mean.

  There was a very long silence.

  Finally, Ellie said, quietly:

  “How?”

  Edward avoided her gaze.

  “Scarlet fever.”

  Ellie hesitated.

  “How old were you?”

  Edward looked down at the table.

  “Ten.”

  Ellie blinked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  There was another silence.

  “I didn’t know it had happened at first,” Edward said eventually. “That’s the odd thing. I’d been lying in bed for days. Doctor said I was starting to get better.

  ‘Morning came… I remember the clock along the passage striking seven. It was spring. The trees were in leaf, I could see them through the window. I thought: as soon as I’m well again, I’m going out there. I’ll climb that tallest tree, right to the very top. I’d always been meaning to. I lay there for a while, then… without knowing it, I was out of bed, standing in the room. I thought Mother would be so pleased, to see me up and about. Then she came in. I was smiling.

  ‘“Mother!” I said.”

  He paused.

  “And then I realised she couldn’t hear me.”

  He turned to Ellie. Their eyes met.

  “The next thing, she had Father in there, and my sister, and a couple of the servants. And then I looked back at the bed.

  ‘And I saw myself, still lying there.

  ‘And then Father said:

  ‘“He’s gone.””

  He stopped.

  “I tried to tell them I hadn’t. But no one was listening.”

  Ellie caught her breath.

  Instinctively, she went over and put her arm around Edward’s shoulders. It went straight through him.

  “Edward. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh…” Edward tried to push her away, with no more success. “It all happened years and years ago. It happened a lot, in those days. And of course, my darling sister and her foul husband got the estate, with me gone.”

  “And you’ve been here ever since?” Ellie asked.

  “All through the years,” Edward answered. “All through the wars, the first one, and the second when more of those beastly noisy things started appearing in the sky. I’ve seen decades of rotten Harveys here, while our name died with Father. Though there were some other children here, in the second war especially.” He brightened, momentarily. “Horrid young things from London. I had a jolly good time scaring them. They were even more fun than you.”

  His face darkened again.

  “But I always knew I shouldn’t really still be here. And that’s where she –”

  He stopped.

  “Edward?” Ellie asked. “Who is she?”

  “Hello, Shakespeare. Not finished work yet?”

  Ellie jumped.

  Charlie was standing beside her.

  On her other side, there was no one to be seen.

  “Not found anything?” Charlie looked at the empty computer screen. “You should stick to painting. Leave running a business to the people in the know. You’d better clear this away. Mum wants to start lunch.”

  Ellie could have kicked him.

  Ellie saw no more of Edward that afternoon, or evening. She was starting to feel oddly bored, when he wasn’t there.

  She sent another text to Dad, and had a reply. It just said: Still ♥ u.

  She wrote some paragraphs for the children’s guidebook and showed them to Mum.

  When bedtime came, Ellie found herself lying awake again.

  It must have been awful, for Edward. Being in this house for years and years, seeing other people living in the home that should have been yours.

  She still didn’t know who that voice had belonged to.

  Eventually, the exhaustion of the day overtook her, and she fell into a deep sleep.

  “Miss Eleanor?”

  Ellie sat up in bed.

  But it wasn’t her bed.

  She found herself in one of the upper rooms of the house, a bedroom, comfortably surrounded by soft sheets, bolsters and pillows.

  She stared around her. The room was beautifully furnished, and much grander than the faded rooms were today. She could make out a dressing-table, and a vase of red tulips on the mantelpiece.

  She looked out of the window. It was daylight outside. She could see the tops of the chestnut trees, just as Edward had described them. Yet inside the room, it was still dark.

  She looked down. She was wearing a Victorian nightgown, in embroidered silk.

  The door of the room was opening.


  And she recognised the voice outside.

  “Miss Eleanor?” the voice repeated. “It’s time for you to wake up.”

  “Who are you?” Ellie demanded. “And why do you want Edward?”

  There was a light, female laugh.

  “Master Edward’s playtime is over,” the voice said. “It’s time he was resting. While you… still have a great deal to learn.”

  The door swung open in a blaze of light.

  And for the first time, Ellie saw the owner of the voice.

  The woman who appeared was young. She might once have been pretty, but her face was now hard and severe, with her fair hair tied back tightly. She wore a white blouse, and a black skirt that was so long it hid her feet and made her appear to float.

  Under her arm, she carried a large book.

  “This is wrong.” Ellie’s mind worked fast. “I’m not Victorian, I’m from now. There’s nothing you can teach me –”

  She stopped, and stared at the young woman. The clothes… the book… she had seen very old photos of women dressed like that.

  “Teach me…” Ellie repeated. “Of course. You’re a governess!”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Edward’s teacher… That’s why he was so scared of you!”

  “What a clever young lady you are,” the woman remarked. “If only I had taught someone like you. I might have been happy. None of this might ever have occurred.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The woman made no reply to this, but took up the book she carried.

  She opened it, and started to read.

  “Edward James John Fitzberranger. Passed over, Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-Seven. Record of Conduct. Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-Eight – Misuse of Spiritual Powers to scare two children visiting the house, both much younger than himself. Later that year, using powers to unfix the stair carpet, causing three people to fall.”

  She turned the page.

  “Eighteen Hundred and Ninety-Nine, overturning a pudding basin onto a kitchen-maid.”

  She turned further pages.

  “Buckets of water… motor cars interfered with… right up to yourself, yesterday. Master Edward really has been very wicked.”

  She smiled.

  “You should be careful with whom you associate. One day, one of these will be written about you.”

  “He’s never done anything evil!” Ellie said. She didn’t know that at all, but felt oddly bound to protect her friend. “He just likes having fun.”

 

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