The Griffinage garden erupted in a cacophony of sirens, shouts, and squealing brakes. Officer Targent’s squad car pulled up, followed by two yellow ambulances from South Mendip Community Hospital. Uncle Ben burst out of the squad car, barking joyously, and bounded at them with dried mud-clotted paws. Officer Targent and Father Casey climbed out of the squad car too. No one heard the golden Mini pull into the driveway.
“We did it!” cried Will, pumping his fist in the air. “We absolutely completely did it!”
“Did you ever hear such a wild yell?” asked Meg, laughing.
“Better than fireworks,” he said. “Light show, music, primal screams.”
Beside them, Ariel sat up, staring wide-eyed where the ghosts had been. Color flooded back to her face. Her nose bubbled, and she wiped it. Meg threw her arms around her little sister. Will hugged her too, even though Ariel’s snot got all over him. He quickly backed away, and as he did so, a shiny glint of metal lying in the dirt caught his eye. The ghost’s copper brooch. I guess metal doesn’t vanish the way ghosts do, thought Will, and slipped it into his pocket.
A freckled hand nudged him aside. Officer Targent knelt down in front of Ariel. He felt for a pulse and, ignoring the hospital staff who came hurrying up with a stretcher, scooped Ariel up in his arms and hustled her into the house.
“He’s probably trained in first aid,” Will said to Meg. “Police officers usually are. Did you see how fast he tore over here? And listen to those sirens! Oh look, here’s Shep. He’s by the stile. Shep! It’s okay! We’re over here!”
Aunt Effie stood bewildered, the blue flash of emergency vehicle lights turning her hair a vivid shade of blue, her clothes spattered with fresh mud. She nodded vaguely when Officer Targent called out that the kids were all right. Then Shep hobbled into view in his hospital gown using a stick for a crutch, and Aunt Effie burst into tears.
Aunt Effie spent the next few minutes collapsed in the burgundy armchair, pulling at her sweater buttons. The medics swarmed around the Griffinage until Officer Targent marched them out.
“But, Officer!” protested one of the medics. “Cardiogenic shock, nonresponsive, shallow breathing! That was the hospital report. And they just took her against doctor’s orders! We can’t leave her here with no medical care.” The medic was a young fellow, raised in Birmingham. He hadn’t grown up on Somerset ghost stories. Officer Targent shook his head.
“Find one thing wrong with that girl,” he challenged. “Find one! Never mind, you won’t. Nothing more than a sprained ankle.”
Casey, Shep, and Officer Targent spent a long time huddled in the hall talking.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you, Shep, when you peeled out so quickly,” Father Casey said. “Low fuel! There’s a petrol station across the street.”
“So that’s why . . . ,” Meg began. She and Will were hanging by the door frame, listening in. Officer Targent turned when she spoke and cornered them. “Never move a person who’s fallen by yourself,” commanded Officer Targent sternly. “What if your sister had broken her back? Then you might have hurt her worse. She could be paralyzed.”
“But you did yourself!” said Will. “You carried her in here.”
“Never mind that,” he said, blushing. “I mean before. They just told me what you did with the rope when she was down at the bottom of the well.”
“The well!” cried Aunt Effie. “What is going on here? I’m responsible for these children. Will someone kindly tell me what’s been going on at the Griffinage behind my back?”
“Ghosts, Effie,” said Shep. “Your family’s been part of a Somerset ghost story.”
Half an hour later, Ariel was propped up in the big kitchen chair wrapped in a plaid blanket. She was chatting nonstop, glad to be the center of attention. Uncle Ben had his chocolate head in her lap, and next to her was a plateful of ginger nut cookies and another variety with jam inside called Jammie Dodgers.
“I told you about Kay Kay, you know,” Ariel was saying, with a mouthful of sticky crumbs. “Kay Kay’s been my friend ever since we came.”
“Well, next time you make friends with a ghost, tell us,” said Will.
“But I did tell you. An’ I didn’t know she was a ghost,” said Ariel. Her face drooped. “Now who will play with me?”
“I will,” said Meg, squeezing her hand.
Aunt Effie had been uttering words like “dash it all” and “confoundnation,” which Meg was pretty sure wasn’t in the dictionary. Finally, she announced she was completely “flummoxed,” and rummaged in the pantry for supper food. “No time to cook after all this,” she said. “We’ll have to see what’s in the cupboards.”
What was in the cupboards was tinned ham and two Battenberg cakes, which Aunt Effie had been saving for the children’s last night at the Griffinage.
“Cake for supper, anyone?” she asked, sounding more like her old self. So they all sat down, including Shep, to ham sandwiches and thick slices of checkered Battenberg cake for dessert.
“I can’t believe it,” said Will, licking marzipan off his fingers. “They really went for each other. After all this time living in the same village. After all those hundreds of years.”
“Yes, if all this ghost business is true,” said Aunt Effie, “why didn’t the mother and child ghosts simply find each other on their own ages ago? According to you, they’ve had nothing else to do all these years except look for their heart’s desire.”
“I think they couldn’t see each other,” Meg said slowly. “The manor people and the cottage people lived such separate lives. Plus, they were so caught up in their own feelings, they weren’t able to see anything else.” How close together people can live, thought Meg, and not really notice each other. Neighbors. Kids at school. Sometimes even brothers and sisters. She looked at Ariel stuffing pink and yellow sponge cake in her mouth and smiled.
“I’m still finding it a hard story to swallow,” said Aunt Effie, now on her third cup of tea. “Targent just accepted the whole thing and walked out of here meek as a lamb. Not an argument!”
“He’s a local boy, Effie,” said Shep. “Used to chase ghosts himself as a lad, same as me. But I’ll admit he’s a bit stumped. Doesn’t know what to put in his police report. Come to think of it, I’m stumped too. Don’t know why the ghosts behaved so differently with you kids.” His eyes drifted to Will. “Maybe it’s got something to do with your Samhain birthday.”
No one had an answer to that. It was silent for a while. Then Uncle Ben left Ariel’s lap and nuzzled his head into Aunt Effie’s. She sighed and rubbed his ears.
“Yes, you’re forgiven for running away, Uncle,” she said. “Even after I stomped about the muddy fields of Somerset traipsing after you. And me without my wellies! Protecting your puppies, I know.”
She glanced at his dog dish. Uncle Ben had devoured his dinner and licked the bowl clean. She beamed. He was also partially de-mudded. “Leg wash today, full bath tomorrow,” she declared. “No need to add a bath to the day’s excitements.”
“But, Meg, how did you know Kay Kay wanted a mother?” asked Will. “I thought you never learned her real longing.”
“I didn’t. I just guessed,” admitted Meg. “But I’d been in the well myself, so I thought it was right. Plus, everyone needs a mother.” She reached for another slice of the checkerboard cake. “Ugh, my back feels sore. That manor ghost was impossibly heavy! I would have thought a ghost would be light—just air, I mean. But she was crushing.”
“You felt the weight of the ghost’s longing,” said Shep. “A crushing weight, indeed. That’s the burden she was carrying for more than a hundred years, then you carried it for her.”
“That weight was just her feelings?”
“People carry heavy burdens in life,” said Shep. “Frankly, I’m surprised you could bear the weight.” He shook his head and looked at Meg with new respect. “Not sure I could have done what you did—run all that distance from the hospital, and everything else.”
“She’s young,” said Aunt Effie. “That might explain it.”
“Maybe,” said Shep. “But it’s still remarkable.” He looked at Meg again, so intently she blushed.
“Many things have been remarkable today,” said Aunt Effie.
“Not every day you banish a ghost,” said Meg.
“Or go down a well, dodge the police, and escape from the hospital on a stolen motorcycle,” said Will, grinning.
“Or decide to believe in ghosts,” added Shep, giving his hostess a sidelong glance. “Guess you’re a local now, eh, Effie?”
Just then, the phone jangled and everyone jumped.
“That’ll be the police, I’ll wager,” said Aunt Effie, going to answer it. “No one else would call at this hour. Hello, the Griffinage. Oh, Marie!”
“It’s your mother,” she said, cupping her hand over the phone. “She wants to know what we did today. What on earth should I tell her?”