The next day, I got a call to someone’s house because their dog was acting erratically and kept barking at their daughter. While I couldn’t find any traces of ghosts in town, the animals sure seemed to have. The local paper was still reporting on dogs and cats acting erratically. I’d read each and every article for clues, checking the comments for any conspiracy theories that might have some truth to them. It hadn’t amounted to anything that could help me find out more about the local ghosts, but it did provide some good entertainment. Conspiracy theories always did.
Hazel, who was the one who rang me, seemed to think something supernatural might be going on with their border collie. At least she wasn’t buying the doggy disease theory. Anyone with any semblance of dog knowledge would know there was no logic to it.
The small, terraced house felt claustrophobic as I walked inside. The dark staircase and hallway were lined with picture after picture of various landscapes and cartoons. It was a mishmash of wall art, as if chosen by someone who didn’t know or care about design; they bought what they liked and it was hung where it fitted, not where it matched.
As I closed the front door behind me, all light disappeared from the hallway. I shuddered. It wasn’t the darkness that creeped me out, though: it was the atmosphere. It was cold and oppressive.
The further I got into the lounge, the tighter my lungs got, as if I was suddenly asthmatic and needed a puff of my inhaler. But my lungs were one of the few parts of my body that weren’t broken. Yet. So that didn’t make any sense.
Knowing what I did about ghosts, I forced myself to keep walking. Bad ones had the nasty habit of sucking the air and energy out of the room to fuel their anger and allow themselves to manifest for longer. While I couldn’t see any signs of a ghost, the lack of air in the house was a big sign.
The patio doors were open, letting in blessed fresh air and light. Both helped with the increasingly claustrophobic atmosphere of the house. Trying to be subtle, I gravitated to the back door and took in a few gulps of air. A border collie lay on the patio, grinding away on an antler.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Hazel offered.
‘Tea would be lovely, thanks,’ I said.
She pulled out a chair for me at the round table in the middle of the room, then flicked on the kettle. Not wanting to seem rude, I went and sat at the table.
‘Is the dog in question the one in the garden?’ I asked.
‘Yes. My daughter has gone out with my husband for a bit. I didn’t want her to hear us talking about this. It still feels wrong, somehow.’
‘What do you mean?’ I asked.
She hesitated, staring out of the window at the dog. The collie chased a butterfly around the lawn, catapulting herself into the air but never quite catching its target.
Turning to face me, she leaned against the sink. The tears in her eyes glistened in the light. ‘Do you have a daughter?’
‘Yes. She’s seventeen.’
‘Oh! That’s lovely. Mine is ten. Our dog is three. She’s made a huge difference to my daughter’s confidence, and if she turns on Lila—’
She shook her head as she started to cry. Poor woman. It’s one thing to have a dog be a part of the family, but to have it make that much of a difference to her daughter, then turn on her one day for seemingly no reason? I couldn’t even imagine.
I went over to the kitchen roll by the microwave and handed her a piece. She dabbed at her eyes with it. ‘I’m sorry, I promised myself I wouldn’t do this.’
‘None of this is your fault. No matter what’s happened, or what does happen, it doesn’t make you a bad mum. Or a bad dog mum.’
She laughed. ‘I feel like I’ve failed them both.’
‘Why don’t you tell me what’s been happening? Then we can start to think about what’s going on.’
‘OK,’ she said.
She sat down just as the kettle boiled. She went to get up, but I put my hand on her shoulder. ‘I’ll sort it,’ I said. I had no idea where anything was in her house, but the poor woman needed a break. She filled me in as I made our drinks.
‘It started a couple of weeks ago. Lila came home from gymnastics and instead of dancing to greet her like she usually does, Astrid – that’s the dog – just started barking and growling. Lila was terrified.’
‘What sort of barking and growling was it? Angry? Scared? Playful?’
‘It definitely wasn’t playful. She has a playful bark, but that wasn’t it. If I were to guess, based on her facial expression and body language, she seemed scared and angry. Like Lila had done something to make her angry and scare her at the same time. Is that possible?’
‘What happened, then?’ I asked, putting the two teas on the table and sitting down. Ignoring her question seemed safest until I had more details. Why scare her if she had no reason to be scared?
‘We told Astrid off and put her to bed. We thought she was just having an off day until the next morning when she did it again. The two haven’t been able to be in the same room together ever since. Astrid used to sleep in Lila’s room, but now she won’t even go in there.’ She lowered her head, staring into her tea.
I drummed my fingers against the side of the mug. ‘That’s some difference.’
‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘Lila doesn’t seem any different – aside from she’s had a cold for the last couple of weeks – but it’s like we have a totally different dog.’
‘Is that possible?’
‘No. She’s always with me or my husband. I work from home so it’s rare that she’s home alone.’
‘And you said your daughter has a cold?’
‘Yeah, but usually when she’s ill Astrid wants to protect her. This is like whatever germs she has, Astrid is afraid of them.’ She scoffed. ‘How can a dog be afraid of germs? They can’t even see them.’
No, but there are a lot of other things they can see that we can’t.
‘Did you know dogs can detect minute changes in a person’s face before they become visible to the human eye?’ I said.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. It’s why they’re used as support dogs for people with epilepsy, or they’ve alerted their owners to a stroke. They can see the change in that person’s face.’
‘That’s some eyesight,’ she said. ‘Wish mine was that good.’
‘Me too,’ I said with a laugh. ‘Would you mind if I investigated Lila’s room?’
‘Anything you think could help us work out what’s going on.’ She stood up and guided me up the stairs and to a door on the right. The atmosphere was so claustrophobic in there I barely made it through the doorway before running out again. Professional, I know.
‘What? What is it?’
‘The atmosphere in here is very…oppressive.’ That was the best way I could explain it without scaring her.
‘Oppressive how?’
‘Is anyone in your house asthmatic?’ I asked. They were usually the first ones to sense that something was off, since their lung capacity was already limited.
‘My husband, why?’
‘Has he needed to take his inhaler more lately?’
She gasped. ‘How did you know?’
It was all starting to make sense. We’d finally found a ghost. I wasn’t ready to give her any answers yet, though. I needed to do some more digging first.
‘Did anything different happen at that gymnastics class your daughter came back from? The one that set Astrid off?’
‘Not that I know of. She’s been going every week for years. Hasn’t even changed coach.’
I leaned against the doorway and stared into the room. Something was off. And it had to do with that gymnastics class.
‘Can I get the details of where she goes? I’d like to look into the venue and see if anything happened there.’
‘So you think whatever happened, it’s to do with Lila, not the dog?’
‘I have no doubt.’
*
‘How much do you know about dogs and ghosts?’
Ben jumped, causing his glasses to slip down his nose. He pushed them back up and turned to look at me from the desk he’d been leaning against. ‘Depends what you want to know. And hello to you too.’
‘Sorry. No time for small talk.’
He stood up, walking around the library counter and guiding me to our favourite spot: the supernatural books. ‘What’s wrong?’
I filled him in on what had happened with Lila, and on Edie and Tilly’s walk. I’d tried searching for instances of ghosts flying at people and/or attacking people online, but my search history already looked dodgy enough.
‘There have been spates of dogs growling at their dogs lately for no reason in the area,’ said Ben, sitting on a sofa nearby.
I sat beside him. ‘I saw in the local rag.’
‘Dogs can’t just see ghosts, they can sense them, too.’
‘I know that.’ I wasn’t that behind on my ghost lore.
‘Do you know what the ghost Edie and Tilly saw looked like?’
‘Hold on.’ I went into my handbag and took out a sketch Josh had drawn. Edie had asked him to help her with it so that we could investigate the ghost some more. Apparently the likeness to whomever had attacked her was eerie.
‘This drawing’s brilliant! I can definitely use this to see what we can find.’ He looked like a kid at Christmas, bless him. ‘Do you know if the ghost spoke at all?’
‘Not that she said, no. Why?’
‘An accent or some sort of distinctive way of speaking would’ve narrowed down the search. No worries; his dress sense still narrows things down.’
‘To what?’
He laughed. I hadn’t been trying to be funny.
He turned to face me. The reflection of the florescent lights in his eyes caused them to sparkle. I looked away, uncomfortable meeting his penetrating gaze. ‘He could have been a miner. They often wore dungarees with nothing underneath them, or went shirtless. Especially in the early days, when it was hot and stuffy down there. Obviously there were a lot of miners around here so there may not be photos of all of them, but it’s a starting point.’
I sighed. A start wasn’t much. It was further ahead than we’d gotten so far, but it still felt like starting pistol had only just gone off, and the ghosts were already a hundred feet ahead of us.
‘How did it go at Hazel’s house?’ said Ben, pushing his glasses up his nose. He really needed to get the frames tightened. Not that I could talk. I usually forgot to put mine on unless I was driving.
‘She seems fairly open to something supernatural going on, but being open to it and believing it are very different things.’
‘You don’t think she’ll take it well?’
‘Maybe I’m rusty. Maybe I’m paranoid. I want to do some digging and get some more answers before I tell her anything. I don’t want to worry her with conspiracy theories.’
‘Evidence is always best,’ he said, nodding. ‘Why do you think I like my toys?’ he added with a smirk.
‘Got any that will help with this?’
He pursed his lips, staring at a spot on the ceiling as he considered my question. I waited impatiently for his answer. There was never a simple solution when it came to proving to people that ghosts existed.
‘No,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
‘It’s OK. Never hurts to ask. I guess it’s back to good old-fashioned detective work.’
‘Need any help?’
‘Actually, I was thinking of inviting Edie along.’
His eyes widened. I know, it went against everything I’d been saying and thinking and wanting. ‘She’s been fighting me hard on wanting to ghost hunt. Maybe if I let her help me with this, she’ll stop worrying about all the other ghosts in town. At least this way I’m training her.’
‘You mean supervising her?’
‘Is there a difference?’
*
‘You ought to watch that dog. There’ve been reports of dogs going for their owners for no reason. She could be next,’ said Harry the next time I saw him. Tilly and I were standing on their tarmacked front yard, waiting for Maggie. We were taking the dog for an evening walk as part of our futile attempts at getting fitter.
I looked down at my dog, who was in my arms, frantically licking my face.
‘Yes, we should all be terrified of the Big Scary Westie,’ I deadpanned.
‘It doesn’t take much for a lick to turn into a bite,’ he said as he opened his front door and went inside.
‘I’ll have you know Tilly hasn’t bitten anything but dog toys since she was teething. She knows not to bite humans, and she knows not to bite hard. Unless it’s a chew.’
He paused, twisting to talk to me. ‘What’s to stop her from misinterpreting an arm as a chew?’
I liked Harry, I did. But he really needed to stop believing every conspiracy theory he read. It was making him crazy.
‘Gee, I don’t know. Eyesight. Sound. Sense of smell?’ I said.
‘Still doesn’t take much.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Maggie asked, appearing in the doorway. She grabbed her coat from the rack behind the door.
‘How this big, terrifying westie is going to bite my arm off when she mistakes it for a chew,’ I said.
Maggie snorted. She joined us outside, scratching Tilly behind the ears. Sensing the opportunity, Tilly wriggled in my arms to get to her. I put her on the floor and she flopped onto her back for a belly rub. Maggie snorted. ‘Oh yeah, I’m terrified.’
Harry harrumphed and went inside. Oops.
‘What was that about?’ said Maggie as we walked down the street.
‘He’s been reading about all the dogs that have turned on their owners in the area lately and he thinks Tilly is next,’ I said with an eye roll.
Maggie shook her head.
‘How many conspiracy theories has he read lately?’ I asked.
‘Too many,’ said Maggie. ‘How many ghosts do you think are involved?’
‘I’m not sure. We don’t know the full story.’
‘We? Who’s we?’
I felt my cheeks flush. Maggie noticed too, giving me a playful nudge. ‘What aren’t you telling me, hm? Are you working with someone?’
‘Just Edie.’
‘Bullshit. You wouldn’t let Edie get involved if I paid you. And Edie wouldn’t cause you to blush like that. Who’s the guy?’
‘He’s a librarian,’ I said.
‘Sexy,’ she said. She always had liked them bookish. Probably how she’d ended up with an accountant.
‘And he can see ghosts, too.’
‘Now that’s handy. What are the odds?’
‘More people can see them than you think. They just don’t realise it.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Super powerful ghosts look human, you just can’t touch them,’ I said, pausing and squeezing my eyes shut. It was a bright day despite the cold, and it was making my eyes sore. The bitter, cutting wind didn’t help and was making my eyes water.
‘I have some sunglasses in my handbag if you want them,’ offered Maggie.
‘Always prepared,’ I said with a laugh.
‘Yep,’ she grinned, diving into her Mary Poppins handbag. She emerged a minute later with a Cath Kidston glasses case and passed it to me. Maggie didn’t need a prescription, so her glasses would be fine for me. I wasn’t that short-sighted. Or so I kept telling myself.
‘Thanks,’ I said, putting them on. My eyes instantly thanked me for the added layer of protection. I’d spent so long staring at computer screens and books lately to research what was going on that it was making it increasingly hard for me to keep them open without them protesting.
‘Of course,’ said Maggie. She returned the glasses case to her handbag and we carried on walking. ‘How’s Edie getting on? Josh said she hit her head in the park the other day.’
I grumbled. ‘Did he tell you what happened?’
‘No.’
‘It was that bullying bitch who’s got a crush on Josh,’ I said through gritted teeth.
‘Oh please. Josh would never go for a girl like that. Give him some credit,’ said Maggie.
‘I know he has more sense than that. But Tessa just won’t take the hint. And Josh is too nice to outright reject her.’
‘Does he know Tessa pushed Edie over?’ asked Maggie.
‘I don’t think so.’ We reached the edge of the curb and a car approached. ‘Sit,’ I told Tilly. She sat at the edge of the pavement, waiting as the car drove past. ‘Over,’ I instructed once it’d gone.
‘Maybe that would change his mind,’ said Maggie.
‘I don’t know,’ I said as the three of us crossed the road. ‘Edie obviously doesn’t want him to know.’
We reached the edge of the park. Once the kissing gate was safely closed behind us, I unfastened Tilly’s lead. Instead of running off like a normal dog, she carried on walking to heel.
‘Maybe she’s embarrassed?’ suggested Maggie. ‘I mean, did you want Javi to know you were being bullied when you were at school?’
‘Hell no. It was a sign of weakness. And he’d probably have gotten himself expelled for starting a fight.’
‘Exactly. Just because Edie can see ghosts, that doesn’t mean she isn’t still prone to teenage pride,’ said Maggie.
I kicked a rock off the path and into the grass beside us. Thinking it was something interesting, Tilly ran off after it even though it had vanished into the long grass. ‘I try so hard to treat her like a normal teenager, but there’s nothing about our life that’s normal, is there?’
‘Sure there is,’ said Maggie. ‘You’ve got us. She goes to a normal college. She has a normal dog.’
I glanced over at Tilly, who’d returned to walking with us. She walked perfectly to heel between the two of us. I hadn’t taught her that – she was too much of a wuss to walk off very far on her own and preferred the protection. Unless someone threatened Edie, it seemed.
‘Is it enough, though?’ I said.
‘Only Edie knows that.’