Page 31 of Kindred Spirits at Harling Hall (Ghosts of Rowan Vale #1)

31

The problem with living in Harling Hall was that you never knew when you were being spied on. I’d have understood it if it had been a ghost watching us, but when I wrenched open the door after making a bolt for it, it was Bonnie, one of the cleaners, I collided with. She was standing there with a tray of cleaning products in one hand and a knowing look on her face.

I galloped upstairs, my face burning with embarrassment, and my heart breaking.

I think it’s fair to say that Brodie and I avoided each other for the rest of the day until, after dinner, we managed to muster our courage and had a murmured conversation in the dining room after the others had left, in which we agreed that it was best to leave things as they were and accept that it had been a pleasant interlude but there was nowhere for it to go.

We were both adults, after all. It had been a kiss. That was all.

That night in bed, I had a long think about what Brodie had said. Well, I had a long think about Brodie in general, but even though the memory of our kiss was enough to keep me awake for hours, I did also remember what he’d told me about Immi, and I can’t deny it stung.

Bad enough that she’d confided in him about how frustrated she was feeling, but it was even worse when I realised he was right. She’d been telling me for ages that she wanted to see more of the ghosts and that she felt left out of everything. I’d just refused to listen because it suited me to keep her away from them.

If I wasn’t careful, I was going to push her away for good. The prospect of putting a barrier between me and Immi was unbearable. I had to fix this. I had to accept that ghosts were, ironically, part of her life and that trying to keep her away from them was only going to ruin our relationship.

Knowing I also had to do something about the Agnes, Mia, and Florrie situation, as well as find a way forward with the lessons, it was a wonder I got any sleep at all that night, and honestly, I don’t think I got much.

I know when I woke up the following morning, I felt exhausted, but somehow my subconscious had decided to take one problem at a time, starting with Immi, who had to be my priority. I thought, maybe by helping her, I could solve at least some of the problems with Walter and the children too.

I went in search of ‘Master’ that very day. I’d learned that he lived above the sweet shop on the green, sharing the flat with Mr and Mrs Chesterton, who ran the shop and knew perfectly well that Walter occupied one of their spare bedrooms but, as with so many of the other tenants in this village, were perfectly happy about the situation since they couldn’t see him and he had no impact on their lives.

I supposed they were in a similar situation to Brodie and – for the first time ever – I felt a pang of sympathy for those without the ability to see ghosts. It was an unfamiliar feeling and startled me. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to share a home with someone you couldn’t see or hear, and thought Brodie and the people like him were missing out on a lot.

Walter was delighted to see me and welcomed me into the living room, after Mrs Chesterton had happily ushered me through the shop and up the stairs, as if having visitors to her resident ghost was an everyday occurrence.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure, Mistress Chase?’ he enquired cordially. ‘Have you come up with a solution to our problem?’

‘Partly,’ I said. ‘Walter, would you mind if we started lessons on Saturday instead of Monday? And how would you feel about having a little helper?’

He settled himself on the sofa and considered the matter. ‘Which little helper would that be?’

I quickly explained my plan and he nodded enthusiastically. ‘An excellent idea! The subject matter should be comforting for Florence and yet exciting enough for two young boys.’

‘Are you familiar with that time period yourself, Walter?’ I asked worriedly. I didn’t want him to feel left out, after all.

He smiled. ‘I think you forget that I’ve been around a long time. I lived through that period, as did my three young pupils. Well, not lived exactly, but you understand what I mean. I was here when the villagers could talk of nothing else. I saw the impact it had on life right here in Rowan Vale. I listened to the wireless with the gentleman who ran the sweet shop back then. Ah, how well I remember the emotions it invoked.’

He struck a dramatic pose, and I braced myself for another Shakespearean quote. He didn’t disappoint.

‘“Sound trumpets! Let our bloody colours wave! And either victory, or else a grave.”’ He beamed at me. ‘Henry VI, part three.’

‘Really? Wonderful,’ I told him. ‘So, you’re happy to go ahead with that then?’

‘Absolutely. I shall be at the Hall on Saturday morning. You can rely on me, Mistress Chase.’

‘Callie,’ I reminded him.

He smiled. ‘Good day to you, Mistress Chase.’

I sighed. ‘Good day, Walter.’

* * *

Having sorted that out with Walter, it was time to tackle Immi. Luckily, Clara’s children were absent from school that day, having succumbed to what appeared to be a nasty stomach bug, so I was able to collect her alone. Well, obviously it wasn’t lucky for the Milsom kids, or for poor Clara and Jack, who were apparently also suffering, but you know what I mean.

Moments after the school bell sounded, Immi strolled into the car park, clutching her bag, looking deep in thought. I popped my head out of the window and called her name, and she slid into the passenger seat, dumped her bag on the floor and fastened her seatbelt.

A few minutes later, we were heading to the other side of the village.

Immi frowned. ‘This isn’t the way home. Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see,’ I said, smiling.

I’d booked us a table at The Royal Oak, determined that Immi and I were going to have a long chat away from anyone who knew us and, hopefully, away from ghosts.

Fat chance. As we took our seats, I felt a familiar icy sensation running along my shoulders and down my arms. I glanced at Immi, and she grinned.

‘Even here.’

‘Well,’ I conceded, ‘it is an old pub. Perhaps I was na?ve to think there’d be no ghosts here.’

Her eyes scanned the room. ‘Two,’ she said. ‘Nope, make that three.’

‘I should have taken you to The Quicken Tree,’ I said. ‘At least there’s only one ghost there.’

Immi picked up the menu. ‘Who’s that? Oh, sorry, none of my business.’

I sighed inwardly, sensing her resentment from across the table. ‘His name’s Isaac Grace,’ I told her, ‘and you’ll see him for yourself very soon.’

She lowered the menu cautiously. ‘I will? How come?’

‘I’ve decided that the next meeting of the ghosts will be an evening meeting, and you’re invited.’

The smile on her face made any doubts I’d had fly away. ‘Seriously?’

‘Seriously. You’re right, Immi. You need to meet them all. This is your village as much as mine and I was wrong to stop you from mixing with the ghosts. I’m sorry.’

‘Oh, Mum! Thank you!’

‘And there’s another thing I wanted to ask you,’ I said. ‘I’ve spoken to Walter about the kids’ lessons. We’ve decided that they should do a class project to start them off.’ I grinned at her. ‘Guess what on?’

She gave me a blank look for a moment then burst out laughing. ‘Not the Second World War? Oh, those poor kids! I’ve been doing a project on that for what feels like forever.’

‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘So you’d be a wonderful help to Walter.’

Her eyes widened. ‘What?’

‘I’ve asked him to do some of the lessons at weekends until your school holidays start. We’d really like it if you could assist him. You know such a lot about the war, thanks to the projects you’ve had to do recently, and obviously, Walter can’t turn the pages of books or write on the blackboard. You could.’

Immi considered the matter. ‘There are loads of books on the war in the village library,’ she told me. ‘I could borrow some and read bits out to the boys, because they can’t read yet, can they? Ooh!’ Her eyes lit up. ‘We could take them to the cinema. Show them that film you were banging on about! Imagine how excited they’d be.’

‘Great idea,’ I said warmly. ‘Maybe we could take them to the library, too?’

‘I’m sure Florrie would get involved,’ she said. ‘After all, it’s her era, isn’t it?’

‘That’s what we’re hoping,’ I told her. ‘And boys are always interested in war, aren’t they? Anyway, if we can get Florrie onside, they’ll follow her lead.’

She nodded. ‘We’ll make it work. Somehow.’

‘You’re happy to help then?’ I asked.

‘Mum, you’ve no idea! I can’t wait to get started.’