A Pocket Full of Posies (Book 2)

Chapter Four

For the first time since we started this wild goose chase, Ava looks like she has no idea what to do. None of us are sure what to say or do, but we're all pretty hungry, so we drive around aimlessly for a while until we find a small diner to recuperate in. Ava's been almost completely silent since she had the door slammed in her face, and I'm imagining up funeral arrangements for my inevitable death when something suddenly occurs to me.

"Would your folks have a photo of this family or anything?" I question, to which Ava raises her shoulders in an I don't know motion from across the booth we're sitting in. "I'm just thinking, you said this family is put off by other spirit talking families, right? Maybe she recognised you, and decided she couldn't be bothered to deal with it."

"I've never met them, she couldn't recognise me."

"You look a lot like your mum, she might recognise your features." I shrug. "Either that, or she might just be astronomically racist."

"Hm, yeah... yeah, whoa, you might be onto something."

The surprise in her voice throws me a little. Is it really that bizarre for me to have a good theory? I hesitate. Yeah, it is a bit.

"Even if Mum doesn't have a photo, I imagine she can find one through friends or something," Ava says as she brings out her phone.

Huh. Look at me having good ideas. I'm evolving. Even Jamie looks relatively impressed with me. More so than with his cheeseburger, the contents of which have almost all fallen out of its bun. We wait impatiently for around ten minutes until Kato replies, and the second she does, Ava's expression turns from indifference splashed with a dash of concern, to anger. She holds her phone up to show me the photo her mother sent, and slap bang in the middle of a large group of people is the old woman who opened the door. What a snake.

If a car could angrily stomp, then Ava would make it do that as we drive back towards the terraced houses. This time, I suggest I accompany her to the door, mainly because I'm slightly concerned Ava might try to square up with the woman if she answers again. This time, when we knock, the door doesn't open. Instead, a voice shouts at us from behind it.

"I told you, that family doesn't live here!"

"You lied," Ava hits back, her voice as calm as always despite her perfectly justified frustration. "You're Mary Gruffudd."

There's a brief silence, then in a deep Scottish accent, "I know perfectly well who I am, young lady, I don't need you--"

"Please, we need your help," Ava pleads.

Suddenly, the door flings open, and Mary's face is inches away from ours. "Whatever it is, I don't want to know. You bloody English spirit talkers are obsessed with what everyone else is doing, and if we want to stay out of it and live our lives in peace, it's our right to do so."

With that, she goes to slam the door, but I shoot my foot out to jam it before it closes.

"It's about the Brennan family," I say, deadpan, but it's largely an act because holy shit, my foot feels like it's been yanked from my ankle, and all I can do is wonder what the hell that woman is putting in her body to be able to pull a heavy wooden door with that degree of ferocity.

I don't regret it though because after another brief silence, the door is released, and Mary grunts what sounds like a fine. The door swishes open, but Mary has already started drifting towards a room at the end of the short hallway as it does so, so I'm momentarily confused. I quickly realise I'm the one opening it, only I'm not touching the handle either. I guess I can add excruciating pain to my list of things that trigger my telekinesis.