Aunty M was digging in her vegetable plot the next day and was listening to some debate programme on the radio. Sam had gone out with her family and so I found myself alone. I decided to go up to the attic. For some strange reason, I felt sort of safe up there and I wanted to continue snooping about to see what else I could discover. In the back of my mind was a feeling that the ghost might visit me again up there. Well, that was where I heard the first noises. Feeling brave, I climbed the steps. Perhaps I would unearth some more clues to who was this ‘ghost’. I had been thinking about what happened and what it said to me and the more I thought about it, the more I thought that I had dreamed it. For goodness sake, I didn’t believe in ghosts. When you’re dead, you’re dead. Surely? So much was happening to me that I felt I was losing it. Or maybe she really did exist. I would not be so scared next time. I hoped.
I walked down to the sofa and sat down and waited. I picked up a huge, dusty old book from the bookcase. It was a book about birds. Each picture was beautifully painted and had a piece of grease proof paper to protect it. I turned over each page. I recognised some of the birds because I’d seen them on David Attenborough’s programme on T.V. The book was so beautiful that at first, I didn’t feel the temperature suddenly drop. I felt a cold waft of air trickle pass me. I looked around and felt a shiver run down my spine. I stared around feeling frightened and vulnerable. There was nothing. Nothing at all. I was getting flustered and spooked. The meeting with the ghost the day before really got to me. I felt my breathing slow down and go back to normal. I closed the book and carefully placed it back on the shelf. I couldn’t stay up there alone. Not any more.
I turned towards the hatch. I couldn’t wait to get out of the attic. Then as I strode to the steps, I heard a voice behind me.
“Wait. Please wait. Don’t be afraid. I won’t hurt you. I can’t and I wouldn’t even if I could. Just a minute. Can you wait just a minute?”
I stopped. I turned around slowly. I took a deep breath. There sitting on the sofa was the ghostly figure of someone who looked just like me. Her hair was long, ginger and untidy just like mine. She was dressed in the same white dress that I saw her in before. I could see right through her to the red velvet of the sofa. As she spoke, she floated up and drifted towards me. Then she hovered just in front of me. Her eyes were pleading me to wait. There was nothing I could do. I had to stop. I had to wait. I had to listen.
“Yes, I can wait. Aunty M is busy in the garden and I don’t want to be in her way.”
“I’m Roma your twin sister,” she said.
“I don’t think you can be my sister. I’m an only child. I’d know if I had a sister. I think you must have got it wrong.”
“No there’s no mistake. They never told you.”
“Who never told me what?” I asked.
“Our mother, granny and granpy - that you had a sister, silly.”
“But if that’s true, why wouldn’t they tell me. I don’t understand. Why are there so many secrets?” I stammered.
“I’m not sure why they have never told you about me and dad. There must be another reason and I don’t know what that is. But I do know that I’m a ghost,” she stated.
“I know you are, but how did you die? I’m so confused,” I spluttered.
“You found the photos and the wedding dress, didn’t you? Then the christening dresses and the photo of us when we were little.”
“Yes, so you were watching me. I just don’t understand why there’s you and me and mum with that other man. And why is mum married to someone else? Where’s our real dad, for goodness sake? I’m so muddled up and I don’t know who to ask to tell me the truth.”
“I can only tell you my part of the story. Our dad is the man in the photo but I don’t know what happened to him. You will have to ask Aunty M about that.”
“Aunty M? Yes, I suppose she’d be easier to tackle than mum. After all, it’s mum who is keeping all these secrets,” I said.
I wanted to know there and then. All these secrets that I knew nothing about and they all involved me. Tears started to well up in my eyes. Here I was in the attic talking to the ghost of my dead twin and I wasn’t dreaming; this was for real.
“So what happened to you, Roma?” I demanded.
“When we were about six months old, I became poorly. We were alone with mum and dad wasn’t there. I don’t know where he was. Mum was frantic about me and she called a taxi. I must have been very ill because we all rushed to hospital where I died alone with just a nurse looking after me. Mum couldn’t stay with me because there was no-one to look after you. So I died in the arms of the nurse who didn’t know me. I never had the chance to see you again, never said goodbye to mum or dad. So I’m stuck here. I couldn’t get into heaven until now. Because you are here I can go, because I couldn’t ‘rest in peace’ until we said goodbye and you found out about me and dad.”
I stood speechless then stammered, “But you’ve grown up like me. How can that be?”
“I’ve always been here. I have lived here with Aunty M all along. I don’t know why I’m here and not with you. I don’t remember the reason but there must be one. There are lots of things that I don’t remember. I don’t seem to be able to remember like you would. Perhaps that’s the trouble with being a ghost. I did see you in London a few times because I travelled up there with Aunty M. I’m not sure why. I stopped you walking out in front of that car that day. You could have been killed.”
“You were the one that saved me. I had a feeling that I had a guardian angel,” I said astounded. “I’ve had a feeling that someone was watching over me.”
“Yep, that was me. Not all the time though until now. I only ‘helped’ when you were in trouble. Remember when that horrible girl in the ‘cool gang’ called you names and pushed you? What was her name?” asked Roma.
“Oh yes, Georgia. I hate her,” I said then regretting that I’d used the word, ‘hate’. Well I did ‘hate’ her, but it sounded awful saying it out loud.
“Well remember the day her dress got stuck in her knickers?”
I nodded, “Omigod. That was you?”
“Sure was. Great, wasn’t it! I just had to do something to give her some of her own medicine so I just sort of did it! I had a right laugh about that,” said Roma laughing.
“Yeah, so did I,” I replied laughing too.
“Did I scare you when I messed up your room and made those noises the other day?”
“I was scared at first but Aunty M said the house is noisy, so I sort of thought it was that and I guessed I must have forgotten to tidy my room in the morning but I knew I had, so I was just confused. I never thought there was a ghost. I’ve been more worried about the man in the photo. Is he our dad?”
“Yes. But I don’t know where he is or what happened to him.”
“Neither do I. I wish none of this had happened to you. It’s so unfair.”
“I know. I wish that things were different but they aren’t.”
“Florence, want a cuppa?” came Aunty M’s voice calling up the stairs.
“That’s Aunty M. I’d better go. Shall we talk again tomorrow? Coming Aunty M.”
“See you tomorrow,” said Roma.
And she faded away to nothing.
“Thought you’d like a cup of tea, dear. Are you alright Florence?”
“I’m fine. Yes fine. I’m writing the dreaded diary and stuff.”
I was pleased she didn’t ask me what the ‘and stuff’ meant. As I sipped my tea, I realised that Aunty M probably knew everything. All I had to do was ask her. I couldn’t pluck up the courage. Well, not yet anyway.