Rare Sight

Chapter Six

They were half-way through a large pizza when his mum’s mobile beeped with a text message. She fished it out of her bag.

“Who’s it from?” he asked her through a mouthful of food.

“My friend, Meena – Yousef’s mum. Wonder what’s the matter?” She read the text. “Oh, heavens – they’ve had an unwelcome visitor themselves. Things have been whirling round the living room and they’ve had a message scratched into the hall mirror.”

“What does it say?” asked Joe, but he didn’t really want to know. The food he’d eaten so far had formed a ball in his throat and he felt like he was going to either choke or be sick.

“Meena doesn’t say,” said his mum.

Joe shut his eyes and willed the food back down. He still felt sick, and the food on the large shared platter looked greasy and unappetising. He stood up. “I can’t eat any more.”

His mum glanced at the remains of the Vegetable Feast. “No – I’ve rather lost my appetite too. We’ll get the bill.”

It was raining when they left the restaurant, and Joe stood for a moment letting the water trickle over his face, glad of the freshness of the air.

“Now, what time is it?” murmured his mum to herself, consulting her watch. “Oh – it’s only nine o’clock. We’ve still got an hour before Georgia makes an appearance.” They drove the short distance home in silence, listening to the rain hit the car roof. After his mum had parked outside the house, they looked at each other. Joe was in no hurry to find out what new horrors the house might offer, and his mum didn’t seem too keen either.

“Shall we just sit outside the house in the car until it’s time to meet Georgia?” she said at last. Joe nodded. They locked the car doors, he put on a CD and they huddled into their coats. “I’d better ring Meena,” said his mum with a sigh. She chose the number and waited for someone to pick up at the other end. “I wish we hadn’t dragged them into this,” she said. “Meena? Hi, Meena, it’s Sara. What’s all this about whirling objects and scratched messages?” Joe listened while his mum made shocked and sympathetic noises. After a while she said, “Can I ask what was written on the mirror…? Oh… oh, really? Oh, I see… I’m so sorry, Meena. We should never have involved Yousef this afternoon. Can we come and see you tomorrow, to talk about what’s going on? Six-ish? OK, see you there. Take care.” She ended the call and dropped the phone back in her bag before turning to Joe,

“I was hoping it was just coincidence, them having a ghostly disturbance themselves – although you know Meena has spirit sight? But the message the ghost left engraved on the glass…”

“Oh, yeah – what does it say?”

“It says, ‘Stay away from Georgia’. Meena says they don’t know anyone called Georgia. She says that, until now, her spirit visitors have always been family or friends of family, usually with messages about unsafe electrical wiring or uneven paving stones… nothing like this – nothing like a threat. Would you call this energetic type of spirit a poltergeist?”

“I’ve been seeing ghosts for a couple of days, so now I’m an expert?”

His mum pulled a face. “Sorry, lovie – I just thought you might have read something in one of your books.”

Joe shook his head. “How long to wait now?”

“Still about forty minutes.”

“Only look.” He pointed to the house, where all the lights had just come on and were shining too brightly, as if the building were receiving a massive electric shock. His mum followed his finger and shrieked when she saw the glare; he jumped. He was getting very jumpy – he made a mental note not to jump so much, then jumped again: Sebastian’s reflection had appeared in the car mirror. He swivelled,