Rare Sight

Chapter Two

That night, Joe kept having dreams in which he hugged his gran and bits of her fell off – an arm, her teeth, and even, one time, her head. There was a horrible, crunching feeling under his hands, as if he was crushing all the bones in her spine. He woke up with a shout and flicked on his bedside light.

There was someone in his bedroom, standing at the end of his bed. The figure turned towards him as the light went on, and he saw it was the girl who’d been on his gran’s driveway earlier. Joe pulled his duvet up to his chin and kept his arms under the covers. Though, when he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what protection a duvet was meant to be against someone who could walk through walls.

The girl sat on the end of his bed and stared at him. He looked away and wondered if he should call his mum or make a run for the door.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” said the girl. She leaned closer, “Are you shaking under there?”

Joe shook his head, even though he could feel his teeth chattering. He was still tempted to try to reach the door.

“I’m Georgia,” said the girl, holding out a filthy hand for him to shake. She grinned. “It’s all right, the dirt’s engrained – it won’t come off. And my hand’s as solid as yours.”

Joe poked a hand out from the bedclothes. Her palm was cold, but definitely fleshy.

“I thought you were a ghost,” he told her.

She shrugged. “I am. But we’re blood relatives – that’s why you can feel me. I can walk through your babysitter.”

“She’s not my babysitter. She just keeps me company…”

“…when your mum goes out. Yeah, I get it.” She grinned again and Joe clenched his fist under the duvet.

“I can’t believe you can see me,” said Georgia. “I thought you were going to be spirit-blind all your life. I’ve been coming to visit you for ages, you know.”

“What – you mean you’ve been coming in my bedroom without me knowing?”

“Ahhh – look at his ears go red. Don’t worry, I never stayed when you were busy.” She grinned again. Then, just as his fist was tightening again, she turned serious. “Look, by the way – d’you remember that time last month when you spilled Coke all over the cream rug in your mum’s room?”

“Yeah – I got a right telling off for that. Why, what do you know about it?”

“It was my fault. I jogged your elbow. Sorry.”

“You what? I got into so much trouble for that.”

“Yes, I know. But you shouldn’t have been in my room in the first place,” said Georgia. But she said it in his mum’s voice.

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“That – talk like my mum.”

“Well, she is my sister, you know.” She looked at his expression. “Oh – you didn’t know that, did you? Hasn’t anyone told you about me?”

“No… What, you’re my mum’s sister? Seriously?”

“Seriously, young nephew.”

“How old are you anyway? I mean, how long ago did you…”

“What? Pop my clogs? Start pushing up daisies? Snuff it? Or – my personal favourite – die. Why use a euphemism when a simple word will do, ’eh?”

“What’re you talking about? And what’s a you-fer-wotsit?”

She sighed and got up from the bed. “Oh, you learn some good words when you’ve been around as long as I have, Joe.” She walked over to the window, then turned back to look at him with another sigh. “Look, I need your help, young Joe.”