‘But Muuuuuuuum.’
‘No,’ I said, instantly feeling like the worst and most hypocritical parent ever. I’d started ghost hunting when I was younger than Edie was, but there I was, telling her she couldn’t do it. I was trying to protect her and give her the childhood I’d missed out on. Not that she seemed to want that. She’d realise I was right when she was older, wouldn’t she?
Edie harrumphed. ‘You said I could when I was older! I’m seventeen now! How much older do I have to get before you’ll let me ghost hunt?’
One hundred and seventeen?
‘Don’t you think someone should be looking into what happened the other day? It was weird and you know it. Plus, I know this stuff! It’s not like I’m going in blind!’
I sighed. ‘This isn’t the glamorous, exciting job everyone thinks it is.’
The weird behaviour of cats and dogs the day before was all over the local paper. Conspiracy theorists had jumped on it. Some had even been right and blamed ghosts, but of course, nobody would ever believe them.
‘What if they hurt someone? That many ghosts aren’t all going to cross over at the same time. They’ll be all sorts of confused and disorientated.’
I clutched the bridge of my nose. Why did she always have to try to fix other people’s problems? Why couldn’t she leave things alone and focus on herself? How did she even know that much about ghost lore? I sure hadn’t taught her. ‘Who’s to say someone isn’t looking into it already?’
She folded her arms over her black T-shirt. ‘Who’s to say someone is?’
Remind me again when I agreed to have a teenager who went against everything I said?
I crossed my arms too, mirroring her moody posture. Mature of me, I know, but I was tired and worried she was going to get herself killed. ‘Ghost hunting it dangerous. And there were dozens of ghosts out there. Even if we did look into it, we’re outnumbered. It’s not worth the risk. You need to find a real job to dream about.’
She flapped her arms around, causing Tilly to get excited and jump up at her. Edie swatted her away, not in the mood to play. ‘Ghost hunting is a real job. You do it!’
Disappointed it wasn’t playtime, Tilly hopped onto the sofa and curled up in a ball to sleep.
‘No, I did it. And look where it’s gotten me.’ I was recently divorced from my second husband, widowed from my first, living back in the town where I’d grown up, a single mum, and utterly broke. The only reason I’d managed to get a mortgage was because my ex and I had made a tidy profit on our old place.
‘You have a great life!’
‘No, the Morgans have a great life.’
The Morgans consisted of my best friend Maggie, her accountant husband Harry, and their two kids, Josh and Abigail. We’d known them forever. Even when Edie and I had moved away, Maggie and I had spoken every day, staying in touch via text and video calls. Edie and Josh had sometimes had their own, separate, video catch-ups every Sunday, too. They were the same age and pretty close.
‘Only because they don’t know what’s really out there! They’re living in naivety!’ said Edie.
‘No they’re not. Maggie knows.’
‘And why haven’t you told Harry? Or Josh? Or Abigail?’
‘It’s not like this is the kind of information that’s easy to discuss. Maggie only knows because she walked in on me talking to a ghost when we were teenagers. Would you stop making this so black and white?’
‘It is black and white!’
I clutched the bridge of my nose. Why was my daughter as stubborn as I was? More stubborn, in fact.
It was on days like that I felt like Edie’s dad had gotten out easy, dying when she was seven. Then I hated myself for thinking that and missed him even more.
I checked the clock above the mantlepiece. ‘If you want to go to the cinema, we’ve got to leave in five or we’ll miss it.’
‘Who said I even want to go?’ she said, pouting.
‘You love our weekly cinema trips with the Morgans.’
‘No I don’t.’
Sigh.
‘Why don’t you?’
‘Because I’m fed up of watching kiddie films!’
‘Tell you what: why don’t we take the five-year-old to see a really gory, gritty horror? Scare her for life, hm?’
Edie rolled her eyes.
‘A horror film isn’t even close to what it’s like in real life,’ I said. ‘And if you think it is, then you’re really not ready to get out there.’
Edie stomped out of the living room, up the stairs, and into her room. She made an effort to slam every door and drawer as she went, as if the protest would get me to change my mind about anything. Stubborn as she was, even she knew it wouldn’t work. There were some things she just wasn’t ready for, and ghost hunting was one of them.
*
‘Neevie!’ shouted Abigail from behind us. I turned around just in time to see an adorable five-year-old diving at me. I picked her up and hugged her, swinging her around. She giggled, burying her head into my shoulder.
Abigail had caught up to us near the cinema entrance, just as we’d gotten out of the car. Edie still wasn’t talking to me, so that had been a fun car ride. Not.
‘Auntie Neevie!’ Abigail said in between giggles and snivels. She looked a little peaky, and her voice was unusually hoarse. She hadn’t been like it when I’d seen her the other day, but kids could change faster than the weather at that age.
‘Yes?’ I said, putting her back down.
‘Why do you look sad?’
‘I do?’ I said, glancing at Edie, who was standing beside me. Her face was contrite. She was still seething after our earlier argument. I’d hoped the prospect of seeing Josh would’ve cheered her up. I clearly didn’t know her as well as I’d thought.
‘Hey,’ said Maggie as she, Harry, and Josh caught up with us.
‘Hey,’ I replied, nodding in greeting to Harry and Josh. Harry didn’t speak much, but I think he liked to let Maggie and I have our time together. It was hard to shut us up when we were in a room together.
Josh, meanwhile, preferred to talk to Edie, which he’d already started doing animatedly the minute they’d seen each other. She couldn’t hide her grin as soon as she saw him. Ah, there it was: the look of young love. So young and innocent.
Or was it the look of young, unrequited love? He’d always been sweet towards her, but he was sweet to everyone, so it made him hard to read. So long as he didn’t break her heart I didn’t mind. If he broke her heart, I’d break his legs whether he was Maggie’s only son or not.
Maggie glanced over her shoulder. Harry and Abigail had carried on walking, with Edie and Josh in front. ‘The decorator finished our room yesterday. Did I tell you we were getting the house redecorated?’
‘No,’ I said, trying to hide the fact that my whole body had tensed up. I’d warded Maggie’s house to protect against ghosts. Being close to Edie and me – even though we weren’t actively ghost hunting – made them targets, so I did what little I could to protect them.
‘So the wards are gone.’
Fiddlesticks. I was afraid she’d say that.
Wards were symbols painted onto the corners of each external wall to protect the inhabitants from evil. Or all ghosts, in some cases. It was up to the inhabitant who could get through. Like our ghost cat, Spectre, could come and go from our place as he pleased. Anyone who didn’t mean the Morgans harm, like an old relative, could visit them using the wards I’d put in place years ago, maybe even before Abigail was born.
They had to be visible, though; you couldn’t paint over them or wallpaper over them. It wasn’t like they had to be gigantic. Just visible. Maggie had covered hers with furniture to avoid questions.
But the wards being painted over meant that anyone could visit them, even if they did mean them harm.
We hung back, intentionally walking slowly and giving random people who walked past us a wide berth, just in case.
‘The decorator found them and asked Harry about them. He blamed Abigail, said we’d put the furniture there to hide it. When the decorator had gone he asked me about them,’ said Maggie.
‘What did you say?’
‘I blamed Abigail,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Can you come redo them ASAP, please? I don’t feel right the place not being warded. You never know.’
I scuffed my foot against the pavement. ‘About that. I can’t get the ingredients right now.’
‘What? What do you need? Is it something I’d have in my kitchen cupboards?’
I laughed. Maggie was an amazing chef and had every herb and spice ever grown in her kitchen stash. But this wasn’t cooking, it was magic.
‘I wish. It’s a special potion mix that comes from Australia. When I contacted my supplier about buying some more, she said she couldn’t get one of the ingredients for it right now because of the bushfires. I don’t have any other contacts, so she’s put me on her waiting list.’
‘Bugger. How long do you think it’ll be? Can’t you get it from someone else?’
‘She couldn’t say. I’ve been buying from her for years. Heck, my mum bought from her. I don’t even know what’s in it, just that it works. I wish you’d told me you were redecorating. I would’ve saved some of it when I did our place. I really don’t like this, Mags. It puts you at risk.’
‘What are the odds of someone targeting us over any other family?’ she asked as we reached the cinema’s entrance. The others were already inside, deciding on films. We hung back to finish our conversation.
‘More than you think,’ I said as we hovered by the door.
‘And why’s that?’
‘Because you know me. They know you’re a way to get to me.’
‘Who?’
‘Ghosts. Evil things. You know.’
‘That’s a very vague answer to a very specific question,’ she replied.
Because the less she knew, the safer she was.