Page 77 of The Haunted Hotel

“Welcome home, Morgan,” he says, holding his arms out. “Want to try that hug business again?”

I smile and stoop down to step into his embrace. It’s awkward, but easier than the first time, and we pull back after a moment.

“Good job on the pants.”

He shrugs. “I thought I’d dress up for the occasion.”

“Are you staying?” A small child’s voice asks from my side. As I look down, I jolt in shock.

A small boy stands next to me. He’s about nine years old and is wearing short pants, a faded checked shirt, and a sweater.

He looks just like I remember.

“Artie?” I sink to my knees so I’m eye level with him.

His expression is a mixture of sadness and frustration. “You said we’d always be friends, but then you went away and didn’t come back,” he says sullenly.

“I did come back,” I give him a small smile. “It just took me a little while to find my way home.”

“But are you staying this time?”

I glance up at Ellis and Grandad, then back to the little boy. “Yes, I am.”

“Huzzah!” A gruff voice bellows, and I see an old man wearing an old-fashioned naval uniform standing beside a potted plant.

I blink and rise slowly as figures begin to appear one by one throughout the lobby. A young woman in an Edwardian gown wearing a sash declaring,Votes for Women!A punk with a lime-green mohawk and leather pants decorated with safety pins and chains. An old woman in a high-necked white nightgown holding an antique ear trumpet and cane. A petite woman who looks a little like the human version of Betty Boop, wearing a black-fringed dress, whose short black hair is sculpted into large, defined waves.

But front and centre is a skinny blonde man with a neat moustache wearing the tiniest pair of white shorts I’ve ever seen. He also has on a matching shirt and sweater, with a tennis racket resting on his shoulder. Right beside him is a short, rotund woman with wild grey hair who’s dressed in tweed, a woman I recognise from the upstairs portrait gallery.

“Bertie?” I ask. She grins, bowing theatrically. “Roger?” I turn to the blonde man, who curtsies and blows me a cheeky kiss. “Leona?” I greet the tiny woman in the fringed dress. She smiles and waves.

I find I can easily identify each person from the stories Ellis has told me about the hotel. Turning to him, I raise a brow, and he grins in reply.

“So you weren’t kidding about this place being haunted?”

He shakes his head, the smile fading. “Nope. It’s all real. If we lose this place, we don’t just lose our home. They do too.” He points to the ghosts.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, did you not listen to a word I said!” Another ghost appears, this one carrying a clipboard and penand looking very annoyed. “How many times do I have to tell you? You’re not supposed to show yourselves to the living! It’s just not done. It’s against?—”

“Yes, yes,” Bertie booms, rolling her eyes. “Against the rules. We know, but I say sod the rules. Up the establishment and fuck a man. I mean, not me personally I don’t do chaps but you know what I mean, right, Skid?”

The punk grins. “Actually, Bertie old girl, it’s fuckTheMan, but close enough. The inmates are taking over the asylum Stan, so get on board or get out of the way.”

“Oh my lord.” The one he called Stan sighs long sufferingly. “What did I do to be cursed with you lot?”

“Got lucky?” Roger offers.

“See here. The thing is, Flibblebottom,” Bertie begins.

“It’s Stanley Fitzgerald Longbottom,” he corrects her.

“Whatever.” She waves a hand. “This is our home. It’s just as important to us ghosts as it is to the fleshies. There’s hundreds of years of history and countless ghosts here. This place is just ripe with psychic energy, and we can’t just abandon it willy-nilly. I don’t give a toss what your bureau says. We’re staying, and we’re going to help the fleshies save this place.”

“Well, it just so happens you’re right,” Stanley says grudgingly.

“What? I am?” Bertie seems very smug at the thought. “Of course I am.”

“I can see the bond you all have with this residence and the living who inhabit it. You are also correct about the psychic energy of the place. Therefore, when I submitted your case to my superiors, I proposed that you be allowed to remain in the house and grounds, and to havelimitedcontact with the living.”