Meg and Will padded upstairs, avoiding the seventh step that always squeaked, and slipped back into their rooms. Aunt Effie’s light was on in her bedroom, but the door was still closed.
“Maybe she hasn’t missed us,” said Meg.
“Make some bumping around noises,” advised Will. “You know, early morning sounds as if you’re just waking up.” Pretty soon Meg could hear loud thumps coming from Will’s room and the sound of a drawer being banged in and out. Will reappeared in the hall the next instant stretching his arms and groaning in a series of exaggerated yawns.
“Uhhh . . . yiiuuuaa . . . Gosh, I’m tired,” he exclaimed. “Good morning, Meg.” He flashed her his signature Griffin grin.
“I think you’re overdoing it,” whispered Meg.
Will yawned again, this time a genuine yawn, and stomped down to the kitchen. From around the corner, Meg heard Ariel stir. No wonder she’d woken up with all that banging. Meg peeked in and saw she was sitting up in bed, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. Meg hoped she wasn’t really getting sick. She’d been sick herself on vacation once when they went to Wisconsin, but of course, her mother and father had been there, which made it all right.
“Feeling better?” Meg asked.
Ariel didn’t seem to hear. Her face remained blank as she stared out the window toward the walnut tree. Maybe she really was sick. Ariel usually dashed out of bed the instant she woke up. Uncle Ben was still beside her cot, fully awake, and nosing the covers by her waist. Noodles, her stuffed cat, lay facedown on the wide floorboards. Ariel didn’t bend down to pick him up, and she didn’t reach over to pet Uncle Ben. Instead, she reached for the doll and hugged it tightly to her chest. Meg watched. A slow smile spread across Ariel’s face, and her eyes began to sparkle. That doll sure seemed to be a new favorite. Soon she hopped out of bed with the doll in her arms, looking bouncy and cheerful. Not sick at all. Maybe this was a good time to ask her what she knew.
“Have you ever seen a lady at the Griffinage?” Meg asked, trying to make the question sound casual. No need to mention ghosts. No need to alarm her.
“No, a fancy lady with a big green gown.”
Ariel was definitely the right age. What if Will and Ariel could both see ghosts? Then she’d be the only one left out. The ghost would still be here, but she wouldn’t know where it was. Too creepy.
“No lady,” said Ariel.
“Okay, good,” said Meg, relieved. She only felt mildly better knowing Ariel hadn’t seen a lady wearing a green dress. Will hadn’t exactly either. A ghost for him was hiccups, whooshing, and bits of light. She might as well ask about that, too.
“Any funny lights, or, you know, something sort of weird and different since you got here?”
“Kay Kay’s different!” said Ariel. “She’s the most differentest girl I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, right,” said Meg. “Never mind.” She didn’t need an earful about Kay Kay. But it was too late. Ariel’s face broke into a radiant smile.
“Oh, Megsy,” she cried. “Guess what? Kay Kay’s having a birthday party and I’m the only guest!”
“A birthday party, how nice,” said Meg. She yawned. She was sleepy after staying up half the night with Will, and it was hard to follow the gist of Ariel’s chatter. Imaginary friends led such complicated lives.
“How old is she going to be?” Meg asked, trying to show interest.
“Kay Kay doesn’t do numbers. She just has a party.”
“Okay. Uh . . . have fun at the party today.”
“Oh, it’s not today,” said Ariel, scrambling into the clothes she’d worn yesterday. “But it’s soon. Kay Kay told me.”
Meg was the last to come down to breakfast. Ariel had run downstairs after talking about the birthday party, and now Meg could hear voices drifting up from the kitchen. “Porridge is better than oatmeal,” said Ariel’s voice, followed by Will’s. “You’re nuts. It’s the same food.” “It’s better.” “You can’t like one better; it’s the same.” “Kay Kay only likes porridge. . . .”
As she passed Aunt Effie’s office, an enormous sigh made Meg stop. She poked her head in and saw Aunt Effie hunched over her desk. She was surrounded by piles of papers, her elbows propped on the desktop, her fingers buried deep in her tight curls.
“Ah, Meg. Good morning,” said Aunt Effie. “Bit of a mess, isn’t it? My office always looks like this, even when windows aren’t blowing themselves up. . . .” She sighed again.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, just the house, dearie,” said Aunt Effie. She smiled. Meg recognized that smile, and didn’t trust it. It was the sort of smile grown-ups put on when they’re feeling troubled but don’t want children to know. She said nothing but didn’t move from the doorway. Aunt Effie looked up at her, and her face softened. “It’s the house. The thatch needs repairing, the plaster’s crumbling, there’s a wall that wants propping up, and now there’s the side window to fix. I’m trying to sort it all out. Old houses aren’t easy. If I had any sense, I’d sell this place and move into a normal house with no thatch fluttering off the roof.”
“But you can’t sell the Griffinage!” said Meg. The words were out of her mouth before she knew it. Of course she could; Aunt Effie was the owner. But the very thought of selling the Griffinage made Meg’s heart feel tight and sore. It didn’t matter that a few days ago she’d never even been here. The Griffinage was more than a house. It seemed like part of the family.
“You love it too, don’t you, dear?” said Aunt Effie. “I know. Still, one person in an old house that keeps breaking . . .” She stopped and swiveled her chair, looking directly at Meg as if a new thought had just occurred to her. “You were early risers this morning, you and Will.”
Meg opened her mouth and closed it again. There was nothing she could say. It felt horrible to hide something as important as a ghost, but it would sound even sillier to talk about ghosts in front of Aunt Effie.
“Mmm,” said Aunt Effie, still looking at Meg intently. “Next time, leave a note on the table. After all, it is my job to look after you. Your parents want you back safe and sound.”
After breakfast, Meg and Will convened a meeting. They met on the stairs, a choice location where they could see Ariel who was playing in the living room, but not be overheard. Meg told Will what Ariel had said, that she’d never seen a green lady. “But I still think we should watch her,” Meg said. “I know Aunt Effie’s in charge of looking after her, but she’s our sister.”
They watched Ariel arrange her stuffed animals around Gillian from their vantage point on the landing.
“You know it wasn’t a bird,” said Will.
“The window? After you hiccupping all night long? Yeah, I know,” said Meg.
“I wish we could get the manor ghost to go home,” said Will. “Shep thinks ghosts are great, but maybe he’s never had to live with one in his house. Or his bedroom.”
Will was hiccupping again this morning. It was one thing to be staying in a seventeenth-century cottage and listening to ghost stories; it was another thing to be staying in the same cottage and living with a ghost who broke windows and kept everyone awake at night.
“We might have to make her go home,” said Meg.
“What do you mean?”
Meg told him about her conversation with Aunt Effie, about how the Griffinage cost so much money to fix with the thatch roof and crooked walls, and how she’d even talked about selling it. “Will, we can’t have a ghost here! If the manor ghost keeps breaking things, it’ll cost even more, and she’ll have to sell it!”
“Sell the Griffinage?”
Meg nodded. She thought of the bedrooms with their slanted ceilings and big black timbers. She thought of the swooping thatched roof, the little red door, the fox weather vane, and the stately walnut tree. If Aunt Effie moved and sold it, they’d never see any of it again.
“She can’t sell,” said Will. “She just can’t. It won’t even be the Griffinage anymore! The new people would have a different last name.”
“Yeah. It’ll just be a house,” said Meg.
“A house with a ghost in it that destroys stuff.”
Meg twirled a loop of hair around her finger. Shep was wrong. Ghosts were dangerous—at least this one was to the Griffinage. If the manor ghost kept wreaking havoc, and Aunt Effie moved, they would lose the cottage.
“Maybe we can get her a child,” said Meg out loud.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“If the manor ghost had a child, she’d leave,” said Meg.
“Get her a child? Are you loony? What are we going to do—snatch one off the street in London? ‘Oh, her mother won’t mind. It’ll make the manor ghost happy.’ ”
Meg looked hurt. “Of course not. Nobody’s snatching kids off the street.”
“Well, then . . .”
“I’m just saying,” said Meg, her voice mollified. “That’s the only way she’ll go away. Remember what Shep said? She has to fulfill her longing, or follow something. We don’t even know what the object was that brought her here.”
“I bet I know,” said Will.
“What?”
“It was the chest.”
“You mean the chest itself?” Meg felt a flicker of hope rise inside her.
“Yeah, it’s big enough. And my hiccups got louder after the chest arrived, and more crazy stuff started happening. Remember how Uncle Ben went nuts when we took off the lid? I bet she came inside the chest from the manor.”
But when they went downstairs to ask Aunt Effie where the chest was, they found her striding out of her office room at a clipped pace, looking distracted. “The chest? Yes, it’s here. No time to show you where it is now. I’ve just had a phone call. In here for a minute, all of you.”
Meg and Will followed her into the living room. Ariel looked up from her spot on the floor and placed the doll in her lap.
“Now, I know I promised you an outing to Wells today to see the cathedral and watch the swans ring the bell in the moat, but I’m afraid we’ll have to put it off, dearies. I’ve just learned some people are coming to tour the Griffinage this afternoon. Rather important visitors. It’s just been arranged.”
“You mean a house tour?” Meg stiffened. She knew people generally didn’t tour other people’s houses unless they were house buyers. Surely Aunt Effie wasn’t thinking of selling the Griffinage already?
“Yes, they’ll want to tour the cottage and the gardens. I’ll need you lot to help out. . . .” Aunt Effie went on asking them to tidy up their rooms, sweep the hall, and stay outside while the visitors were here.
Will leaned over to Meg and said in a harsh whisper, “I bet they’re buyers!”
“Of course! Shhh!” Meg whispered back.
“You can play in the garden. Oh, the garden! That’s right. I haven’t finished mulching the roses or pruning the lavender. Need to tidy that up before they come. And bake. Let me see. Scones. Nothing like fresh buttered scones to sway the human heart, and today the Griffinage will certainly need to sway some hearts.” She paused as Will made a choking sound.
“You all right, Will? You don’t mind about the swans, do you? We can go tomorrow. This just came up suddenly. Could be a very good chance.”
“Okay about the swans,” Will croaked out.
Meg swallowed hard. If Aunt Effie was trying to bribe people with food, she must be really serious. Meg couldn’t stand the thought of watching strangers tromping around the Griffinage, poking into each bedroom and talking about prices and sales contracts. Aunt Effie had already vanished into the kitchen. Will trailed after her, and Uncle Ben immediately followed, growling at the woodpile.
“What about the chest? Can we see the chest now?” Will asked.
“Good gracious! I’m not getting that dirty thing out today, not with visitors coming. Later, Will. The chest can wait. Now, Uncle Ben, what’s wrong with you?” She tapped his dog dish with her foot, where his breakfast lay untouched. A dust ball of fur whirled up as she tapped. “Lost your appetite, have you? If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”
Aunt Effie spent the rest of the morning tidying things up about the cottage and mixing flour and butter. The children could hear snatches of song drifting from the Griffinage kitchen as she worked:
Through streets broad and narrow,
Singing cockles and mussels,
Alive, alive, oh!
“She sure seems happy about selling the Griffinage,” said Will in a dark voice. They were upstairs cleaning their rooms, which for Will meant stuffing a mix of socks and music books under his bed, then sauntering down to the girls’ room, and for Meg it meant helping Ariel make her bed properly and tuck the tea set, pinafore, and other toys away in the cabinet by the window.
“What next? We can’t do anything until we move the chest,” said Will. “And by the time these stupid people go home, it’ll be late, and we probably can’t move it until morning.”
“Well, the manor ghost has lived a hundred years in the manor. I guess one more night in the Griffinage is all right,” said Meg.
“That’s easy for you to say,” retorted Will. “You try sleeping with her in the house.”
Meg reconsidered. He was right. She had no idea what it was like to sleep with a ghost when your body could sense it. Probably like a bad dream that wouldn’t go away when you woke up.
“Okay,” said Meg. “Then we’ll find it ourselves. The Griffinage isn’t that big. We’ll move the chest before tonight.”
A hush settled over the house. Ariel looked about her. Will and Meg had finally gone away. They’d been hovering around the stairway and bedrooms all morning. That was why Kay Kay hadn’t come. Ariel only ever saw her when she was alone. She heard Aunt Effie in the kitchen, pushing Uncle Ben out the back door. “You and those great paws can muck about outside,” she said. Then the back door slammed, and a few minutes later the front door banged behind Meg and Will.
Normally, Ariel would have run after her brother and sister, but today she’d been waiting for this moment. Hoping to be alone.
Ariel propped Gillian, the doll, next to her on the floor by the sofa. She looked around expectantly, willing Kay Kay to come. She knew she didn’t have to go to the attic to see Kay Kay now. Yesterday, Kay Kay showed up in the orchard. Ariel traced her finger around Gillian’s nose and wondered what to give Kay Kay for a present.
“Don’t forget my birthday.”
Ariel looked up. There was Kay Kay herself, standing by the fireplace smiling with her beautiful silver eyes. Aunt Effie crashed a pan in the kitchen, and Kay Kay jumped. She flicked her eyes back to Ariel, and they seemed clouded, not so beautiful.
“I can’t stay. But don’t forget. The party’s tomorrow.”
Ariel bounced on her knees. She loved parties, especially ones with balloons and candy prizes. She hoped there’d be a red balloon. Then a thought occurred to her.
“Where do I go? Where’s your party?” Usually Mama took care of that, the driving and getting there.
“Outside,” said Kay Kay.
“Where outside?” asked Ariel. She liked backyard parties too. One party she’d been to even had an obstacle course.
“Outside by the well.”
“The well!” said Ariel. “That’s a funny place for a party. I thought you were afraid of the well.”
“I am,” said Kay Kay. “But it has to be there.”
“But I don’t know where it is,” said Ariel, pouting and trying to imagine a wishing well with a little roof on top. “There is no well.”
“ ’Course there is,” said Kay Kay. “I’ll take you there. I’ll show you. Just come and meet me by the walnut tree. You know where that is.”
Ariel nodded. Aunt Effie crashed another pan and Kay Kay jumped again. From the hall they could hear the clock chiming eleven.
“Tomorrow, remember,” said Kay Kay. “Listen for the church bells. Come when you hear the bells chime three.”
Ariel blinked. She was alone in the living room. Kay Kay must have run away again. She was always doing that, so she wasn’t surprised. She squeezed Gillian in an excited hug. A private party! She’d go find Meg now and ask her about a birthday present.
Ariel found Meg by the garden shed. She was watching Will dig through piles of burlap sacks inside the shed, so Ariel stood and watched too.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Looking for something,” said Meg.
Will emerged with burlap dust in his hair and shook it off, which made Meg sneeze. “Not here,” he said, discouraged. “You’d think something as big as the chest would be easy to find.”
“Let’s look inside again,” said Meg. “Maybe we missed something.” They’d already looked in the broom closet, Aunt Effie’s bedroom, and her office. Will had also checked the Mini.
“I’ve seen it,” said Ariel.
“The chest from the manor? You know where it is?” asked Will. His eyes looked eager, and he smiled at Ariel.
“In the basement,” she said.
“Don’t be silly. The Griffinage doesn’t have a basement,” said Will. His eager look disappeared, and he turned away from her, slapping his pants to shake the burlap fibers off.
“It’s in the basement, and I seen it when Aunt Effie took me there to get pickles.”
“Show us,” said Meg.
Ariel proudly led them around the back of the Griffinage kitchen to a slanted trapdoor in the ground. There were two doors with handles, and after that a set of stone steps leading down under the house. Ariel showed them where the light was, and Will flipped it on, then they all trooped down. The air was cool and smelled like apples and sawdust. They were standing on an earthen floor in a small room lined with wooden shelves. Most were empty, but some had rows of glass jars and there was a tub of potatoes on the bottom shelf. Ariel looked and saw more pickle jars.
“A root cellar,” said Meg.
“See, lots of pickles,” said Ariel.
“There’s the chest,” said Will, and he grinned.
Will and Meg hurried over to the chest and began to talk. They seemed to have forgotten her. Ariel eyed the pickles and wondered if Aunt Effie would notice if one of the jars had a pickle missing, but when she tried the lid it was sealed too tightly to open. Then she remembered the reason she’d come to find Meg. She walked over to the chest and tugged at Meg’s arm.
“I need a present,” she said. “For Kay Kay. Something special for her birthday.”
“Why don’t you draw her one of your pictures?” asked Meg. “Those make good presents.”
“No, something really special,” said Ariel.
“Here, take this.” It was Will. He was fishing around in his pocket. He put something heavy in her hand, and Ariel gasped with delight. It was silver and old-fashioned, the sort of thing Kay Kay would love. She looked at the silver circle with its dancing lion.
“What is it?”
“Dunno. We think it’s a piece of a belt. Came from the manor long ago. Meg and I found it down by the creek.”
Ariel took the treasure and fastened it around Gillian’s waist with her hair ribbon. It looked like a shield or huge royal belt, and it made Gillian appear extra fancy and important. She hugged Gillian tightly, and again the warm, comforting feeling spread over her. Gillian was unlike any doll she’d held. She was special. Whenever Ariel loved her, she could feel the hollow-missing-mother places inside her disappear. She could feel the doll loving her back.
At the other end of the root cellar, Will and Meg were lugging the chest over to the steps. When they got to the foot of the steps, they stopped. A sound was coming from the open trapdoor that sounded like the rumble of a car engine.
“Shoot, that’s the buyers,” said Will. “They’ll be crawling around everywhere in a minute.”
“At least we know where the chest is,” said Meg. “We can get it later.”
“What buyers?” asked Ariel. Nobody answered her, so Ariel stuffed Gillian down her shirt in case the strange people might want to buy dolls. The silver circle felt cold against her tummy. She poked her head down her shirt’s neckline to check on Gillian. “You’ll be safe in there,” she whispered in the doll’s china ear. “Okay? Now go to sleep. There’s a big party tomorrow.”
The ghost stirred, newly energized. There it was at last. A clear and strong signal calling her. That’s why she hadn’t been able to feel a well-defined direction before. There’d always been two directions, muddling their signals, crossing them, keeping her aimless and worried in this peasant house. Now she knew exactly where she must go. She glided toward her target.