Eloise Read online

  ‘What?’ she exclaimed, rounding on Delora. ‘You must speak to him! Now!’

  ‘I can’t,’ Delora replied. ‘I’m truly sorry.’

  ‘But you said!’

  ‘I said it might not work,’ Delora pointed out. ‘I did warn you.’

  ‘I want to talk to my son!’

  ‘I know. I understand. But your son is no longer here, sweetie. He’s gone. He’s at peace. It’s a good thing.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes.’

  Astra screeched something at her niece, who coloured and said, in a very soft voice: ‘Could you try again, please? My aunt wants you to try again.’

  ‘I can’t.’ Delora’s own voice was flat and exhausted. She began to rise from the chair, her joints cracking. ‘I opened a channel, and nothing came through. It wears me out. I can’t do it again tonight, and I doubt there’d be any point if I could. He’s obviously not around.’

  Whatever Astra said next upset Bettina quite a lot. The two of them began to argue. Michelle leant over and pulled at my sleeve.

  ‘What about that, eh?’ she murmured, bright-eyed. ‘Wasn’t that spooky?’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Did you feel it getting cold? I could feel it getting cold.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid!’ Bettina cried, breaking into English. She was addressing her aunt, but threw an agonised glance at me, adding: ‘She doesn’t want to … you know …’ And she rubbed her right thumb and forefinger together.

  Clearly, Astra didn’t want to pay.

  ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Right. Um …’ Thinking quickly, I realised that this wouldn’t be a problem – we would simply return to our original plan. The difficulty was that I didn’t have the money on me. Neither, I was sure, did Michelle or Peter. Would Delora take an IOU? Or would I have to ask Mum to write a cheque, and pay her back later? I wasn’t too happy about appealing to Mum. And I didn’t know if Delora would be charging us the full fee; after all, she had only been at the house for a little over half an hour. ‘Delora,’ I began, ‘could you just come in here, for a second? I have to ask you something. In private. It’s okay, Mum, it’s nothing bad.’

  I don’t know why I took Delora into Bettina’s room. Probably because I wasn’t too familiar with the rest of the house, except the bathroom, and Bettina’s mum was in there. I didn’t turn the light on, because I didn’t really need to; light was already filtering in from the hallway, and through the slats of Bettina’s venetian blinds. She had left some dirty socks on the floor, and a squashed school hat on the bed. When I walked through the door, I stepped on a crisp packet.

  ‘The thing is,’ I began, ushering Delora over the threshold and speaking very quietly, ‘I was wondering about the money. Because originally Astra was going to pay, but now she isn’t, which is okay because we have enough, only I was wondering if we could pay you tomorrow, or whether you’d want a cheque from my mum … Delora? Are you all right?’

  She was blinking and grimacing, shaking her head from side to side as if she had an earache. She put a hand to her head. She staggered backwards, wobbling on her high heels.

  ‘What is it?’ I said. ‘Are you sick?’

  ‘Oh, my God,’ she gasped, screwing up her eyes.

  ‘Delora?’

  But she had stumbled out of the room. I followed her anxiously, and saw how she had to prop herself against the walls of the corridor. Only when she reached the kitchen did she stop, framed in the doorway, kneading her temples with both hands.

  ‘God,’ she groaned. ‘Who sleeps in there?’

  ‘What?’ said Mum. Everyone else just stared.

  ‘In that room? The little one?’ Delora squinted around at a circle of blank faces. ‘Does somebody actually sleep in there?’

  Seeing that no one had the faintest idea what she was talking about, I spoke up myself. ‘Bettina does,’ I said.

  ‘Well, she shouldn’t,’ Delora snapped. ‘She should stay out of it. Everybody should. That’s a black hole, in there.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ It was Peter who spoke, because Bettina seemed to have been struck dumb. ‘What do you mean, a black hole?’

  ‘That room! It’s practically howling! Have you been in there? Have you felt it?’ Delora looked at me. ‘You must have felt something, Allie, I can’t believe no one’s noticed anything. I haven’t felt an energy like that in years!’

  Flattered, I tried to interpret what she was saying.

  ‘You mean – there’s some sort of psychic energy in there?’ I said, drawing on my mum’s endless lectures about Feng Shui. ‘Like negative chi, or something?’

  ‘I don’t know about negative chi,’ Delora replied, closing her eyes as she massaged her temples, ‘but that room is voracious. It’s crying out. It’s hungry. Haven’t you picked up on that?’ She shuddered. Then one blue eye flicked open, and was trained on Bettina. ‘Haven’t you noticed the hunger in that room?’

  Although Bettina’s mouth opened, no sound emerged. Astra jabbed at her arm, crossly addressing her in Croatian. Bettina didn’t respond.

  ‘I noticed the hunger,’ Michelle suddenly announced, her breath quickening, her eyes widening. ‘Allie! Don’t you remember? Don’t you remember how hungry we got, last time we were here?’

  I was startled.

  ‘Oh, but that was after school,’ I objected. ‘Everyone’s always hungry after school.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Michelle retorted. ‘Not that hungry. Not right after school.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Could it make us hungry? That room?’ Michelle interrupted, her attention switching to Delora. ‘We were in there for nearly an hour, and we were all starving when we came out. We ate and ate.’

  ‘Did you?’ Delora seemed to perk up. ‘Really? Well, that is interesting. Yes, that would make sense. I can see that might happen.’

  ‘Wow,’ said Michelle. Bettina gaped. Peter was frowning.

  ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘Wait a minute. Are you saying that there’s a strange energy in that room, and it makes everyone who goes in really hungry?’

  ‘Could do,’ Delora replied. She looked at Bettina, shaking her head in amazement. ‘It’s incredible that you can actually sleep there. I couldn’t,’ she said.

  It crossed my mind that the hungry energy might be coming from Bettina – who obviously ate a lot – but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know how to, without upsetting Bettina. It was Peter who worked out what question to ask.

  ‘So would the energy come from someone who’s alive, or someone who’s dead?’ he inquired carefully.

  ‘Oh, dead,’ Delora replied. She was scooping up her handbag. ‘No question. Dead quite recently, I’d say, or the vibrations wouldn’t be so strong. Within the last five years, at a guess.’

  By now Astra was shaking her niece’s arm, speaking very sharply. Mum was trying to calm her down. Then Delora (who was looking a little frayed around the edges) informed me that she would send me an invoice; we would sort out the money question later. ‘I’ve got a shocking headache,’ she declared. ‘Time for a cup of tea and an aspirin, I think. Goodbye, Astra. Judy. So sorry it didn’t work out. Bettina, darl …’ She raised her voice, fixing Bettina with a stern look. ‘You shouldn’t be sleeping in that bedroom. It can’t be doing you any good, sweetie, you should ask your mum to move you.’

  Bettina blinked. ‘Me?’ she said faintly. ‘Move?’

  ‘Can’t she just get rid of the energy?’ Michelle piped up, and Delora shrugged.

  ‘She can try. I could try, if you want, though I don’t know if I’d be much help.’ Seeing my puzzled expression, Delora slung her bag over her shoulder, and struggled to explain. ‘That’s a very primitive hunger, in that room,’ she went on. ‘It’s strong, so I could tell at once – it has no subtleties, no complications, it’s just a yawning hole. It’s not going to tell me anything, not even if I connect, which is something I’d rather not do, if you don’t mind.’ She shuddered. ‘A force like that could cause a lot of dam
age.’

  ‘So what do you suggest?’ Peter frowned. ‘A séance? In the bedroom?’

  ‘We’ve already done that,’ I objected. ‘Nothing happened except that we all felt hungry.’

  ‘Which is what I was talking about.’ Delora moved towards the front door. ‘It’s so fundamental, it’s a dead end. No – Bettina should move. She should sleep somewhere else.’

  ‘But there’s nowhere else to sleep!’ Bettina cried.

  Delora, however, didn’t seem to hear. She was already disappearing into the night, her high heels clacking on cement. Normally, she isn’t so rude; she likes to talk, and will stand around chatting all day if you let her. I decided that the force in Bettina’s room had shaken her badly.

  She was scampering out of there as fast as her legs could carry her.

  ‘Okay,’ said Peter, quietly. He was standing beside me, I realised, with Michelle hovering at his elbow. Mum and Astra had remained a few paces behind, and were struggling to communicate; Mum was trying to explain that Michael was at peace, unreachable, while Astra muttered darkly about broken promises, clutching her niece’s arm.

  ‘Okay, what’s the plan?’ Peter wanted to know. ‘There’s obviously a ghost in Bettina’s bedroom. How do we get rid of it?’

  ‘Oh!’ Michelle sounded surprised. ‘Is that what Delora was saying? I thought she was talking about a force, not a ghost.’

  ‘Same thing,’ Peter replied impatiently. ‘It’s like Eglantine all over again, except this ghost doesn’t write messages. This ghost isn’t smart enough. It’s primitive, Delora said. Primitive.’

  ‘Like an animal?’ I hazarded. ‘A dog, or something?’

  ‘A hungry dog!’ Michelle supplied. ‘A dead, hungry dog.’

  ‘Which died in Bettina’s bedroom,’ Peter finished. He tapped his front teeth, pondering. ‘Maybe someone went on holiday, and left their dog locked in the house, and it died.’

  ‘Like those dogs that get locked in cars,’ Michelle said solemnly.

  We all looked towards the bedrooms, just as Bettina’s mum emerged, her hair still damp from a recent shower. She glanced around, and said something in Croatian.

  ‘She’s gone,’ Bettina replied in shrill tones. ‘Delora’s gone. It didn’t work. She said it might not work.’

  Bettina’s mum snorted. She turned to her sister and plunged into a conversation that I didn’t understand. Peter and I exchanged glances.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Bettina murmured, approaching us both as her aunt released her. She was blinking back tears. ‘This is so embarrassing.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ I wished that Bettina wouldn’t always take things so hard. ‘We agreed that we’d split the fee, right at the beginning.’

  ‘I warned her,’ Bettina continued fretfully. ‘I warned her over and over again not to expect anything, but she wouldn’t listen. I told her it didn’t always work.’

  I shrugged, and Peter tugged at his bottom lip. Michelle said, ‘What do you mean? Of course it worked. We didn’t talk to Michael, Bettina, but we found out why you’ve been putting on weight. You’ve got a Hungry Energy in your bedroom.’

  I couldn’t help wincing. Peter did the same. There’s no way in the world I would have mentioned Bettina’s weight, not like that. Sometimes I can’t believe the way Michelle comes right out and says things about amputated arms or Downs Syndrome kids or muttering old men without shoes on, discussing them so matter-of-factly, so coolly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She seems surprised when I can’t do the same. Too self-conscious, I guess.

  Michelle is hardly ever self-conscious. It’s one of the things I like about her.

  ‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it?’ she queried, glancing from face to face. ‘Obviously Bettina’s been eating too much because her bedroom’s making her feel hungry all the time.’

  I didn’t know what to say. Agreeing would make it look as if I thought Bettina was fat. To my surprise, however, Bettina herself didn’t seem offended.

  ‘Do you think so?’ she asked Michelle. ‘Do you think that’s the problem?’

  ‘Don’t you?’ Michelle retorted.

  ‘I guess …’

  ‘It seems to me,’ said Michelle, ‘that you should either start sleeping somewhere else, or we should get rid of this ghost. Don’t you agree, Allie?’

  I did. It was the obvious conclusion to draw. The trouble was, I didn’t know where to start when it came to exorcising the ghost in Bettina’s bedroom.

  And I couldn’t think, because Mum was calling to me.

  ‘Allie!’ she exclaimed. ‘Come on, please, we’re going.’

  ‘But, Mum –’

  ‘Say goodbye to Mrs Berich. She’s put up with us for long enough.’

  ‘Can I just – I have to go to the toilet.’ And I needed a moment’s peace. ‘Mum? Can I just go to the toilet?’

  ‘All right, but hurry, please.’

  The bathroom smelled of hot soap. Every surface was covered with a film of condensation from Mrs Berich’s shower; I had to wipe the toilet seat before I could sit down on it. Then I considered our options. Delora had said that the ghost couldn’t have been dead long. Perhaps some of Bettina’s neighbours might remember the people who had lived in the house before. Some might even remember if a dog had died in one of these rooms.

  When tracking down Eglantine, I had asked Mum to get a copy of the title deeds to our house, which told you the names of everyone who had ever owned it back to the late nineteenth century. Would Mrs Berich be able to dig up the title deeds to her house? It would be a start, I thought. It would give us a name, at least. But when I returned to the living room, and asked Mrs Berich about title deeds, she just stared at me blankly.

  ‘Mrs Berich doesn’t own this house, Allie,’ my mother hastened to explain. ‘I’m sorry, Dubravka, she’s a funny little thing. Allie, Mrs Berich rents this house. She wouldn’t have access to any title deeds.’

  ‘Who would, then?’ I requested. ‘Who owns the house?’

  ‘Now come on, Allie, that’s enough, we have to go.’

  ‘Inner West Community Housing,’ Bettina suddenly declared. ‘They own it.’

  ‘Would they know who used to live here?’ I was being hustled towards the front door, but kept talking to Bettina anyway. ‘They might, don’t you think? It’s worth a try. We have to find out who used to live here.’

  ‘We could ask the neighbours,’ Peter suggested, following me. ‘Bettina could ask the neighbours.’

  ‘Yes,’ I agreed. ‘That would be good. All right, Mum, I’m coming.’ By this time we were marching up the driveway. ‘Could you ask the neighbours, Bettina? And I’ll phone this Inner West Housing place.’

  ‘Inner West Community Housing,’ Bettina corrected anxiously. It was so dark outside that I couldn’t see her face very well, but she didn’t sound too keen. ‘I – I don’t really know the neighbours,’ she stammered. ‘We’ve only been here a few months.’

  ‘They seem all right though, don’t they?’ As Mum unlocked our car, I grabbed the handle on the front passenger door. ‘It’ll be a chance for you to meet them. Just ask them if anything – or anyone – died in your house.’

  ‘Wait a minute.’ Though eager to make her escape, Mum was also concerned about my friends. She paused with one foot in the car. ‘How are you getting home, Michelle? Is your mother picking you up?’

  ‘I’m supposed to ring her.’

  ‘Do you want a lift? Peter? Would you both like a lift?’

  In the end, Mum gave Peter and Michelle a lift home. It wasn’t a very long ride. Even so, we managed to discuss our next move during the few minutes it took to reach Peter’s place, agreeing that I should call Inner West Community Housing on Monday. Meanwhile, on Sunday, Bettina would make inquiries around her neighbourhood.

  ‘There’s bound to be someone who remembers,’ I insisted, ‘especially if someone – or something – died in that house. Delora said it must have happened recently. Someone
has to remember.’

  ‘Unless it was a dog or a cat,’ said Michelle. ‘Lots of people don’t care about animals.’

  ‘Kids would know,’ said Peter. ‘Kids notice animals.’ And then Mum spoke up.

  ‘I hope you kids aren’t expecting Bettina to go door-knocking all on her own,’ she objected. ‘You must realise that’s not safe.’

  I looked at Peter. Michelle looked at me.

  ‘I wouldn’t let any child of mine go door-knocking unless she had at least two friends with her,’ Mum continued, in forbidding tones. She pulled into Peter’s driveway. ‘All right. Here we are. Now.’ She turned in her seat. ‘What’s going on? Hmm? I don’t like all this messing about with the supernatural, it’s not safe. Especially when it comes to door-knocking.’

  ‘Oh, it’s okay, Mum,’ I interrupted quickly. ‘I’ll go with Bettina tomorrow.’

  ‘And me,’ Peter chimed in.

  ‘I can’t,’ complained Michelle. ‘Mum and I are supposed to be visiting Palm Beach, tomorrow.’

  ‘Well, good,’ said Mum. ‘But you still haven’t answered my question. What’s going on? I’ve never met Bettina before, and suddenly you’re inviting Delora into her house, and asking about title deeds.’ She fixed me with a stern look. ‘Allie, you’re not pretending to be a PRISM person, are you? You haven’t been chasing ghosts?’

  ‘No, not exactly.’ I wondered how I could introduce the subject of the Exorcists’ Club without alarming my mother. ‘Bettina just asked us to help her, because we know about ghosts. She wanted to summon up her cousin’s spirit. We didn’t know there was already a ghost in the house.’

  ‘And we have to get rid of it, Mrs Gebhardt,’ Michelle said eagerly. ‘I mean, poor Bettina! Imagine how much happier she’ll be if we get rid of this ghost, and she loses weight!’

  Mum was torn; I could tell. She’s not like other mothers. Other mothers would have dismissed the whole business as a big pile of steaming nonsense, and would have let us muck about playing silly ‘ghost games’ to our hearts’ content. Mum, however, believes in ghosts. She doesn’t have a choice – not after our encounter with Eglantine. And, while on the one hand she would prefer it if I never again had anything to do with the paranormal, she’s also lived in a haunted house, and knows how awful it can be. So she couldn’t help sympathising with Bettina.