The Ghost of Josiah Grimshaw

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The Ghost of Josiah Grimshaw Page 3

by Suzy Turner


  'Well that's a relief, knowing that he was just confusing you with someone else, isn't it? Oh, and I'm sorry he died. I know you, you know, connected with him or something,' she said as she peered at herself in the small Union Jack mirror she carried in her handbag before wiping her face with a wet wipe.

  Emma's face dropped and she rubbed at her eyes, 'Yeah, I guess I did. But... but, why did Mr Grimshaw ask for Emelia too? That's just weird.'

  'Or just a coincidence, perhaps?' answered her sister as she snapped the mirror shut and put it back in her handbag, content that she looked human again. Sitting opposite Emma, Lana immediately started tapping her fingers on the bedside table.

  'Okay... what is it? What aren't you telling me, Lana?' said Emma who leaned forward to scrutinise her.

  Lana looked away, then up to the ceiling and down to the floor, but she could no longer keep it to herself any longer and she stood up, lifting her T-shirt slightly, revealing what looked like a tattoo.

  'Oh My God, Lana... Mum is going to KILL you!' she exclaimed as she jumped up and bent down to have a look. 'A tattoo? That's what you did today? Are you insane? Okay, don't answer that.'

  But Lana shook her head aggressively, 'No, no, no, no' she said, 'I didn't do it. It wasn't me.'

  Emma raised her eyebrows, 'I didn't do it? That's your excuse? Sorry, Sis, but our parents aren't gonna buy it. Where did you go? I didn't even know we had a tattoo artist on Andilyse,' she said absentmindedly shaking her head.

  Lana grabbed her sister's wrist, forcing Emma to look up into her eyes.

  'Oh My God... somebody did this to you? But how? Did they assault you or something? Oh Jeese, Lana. Are you all right?'

  Lana nodded and gulped, 'I think you'd better sit back down, Sis. You're never going to believe what happened to me this morning.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  Poor old Mr Grimshaw died during their conversation and they hadn't even noticed. He'd taken his last breath when he'd uttered those word, 'Em, Emelia'. Similar words said by the young stranger before he'd passed away earlier in the day.

  Emma cried when the nurse walked in to check on his condition, only to discover he was already dead. It was the same nurse who'd walked in on them earlier. She hadn't been very happy that the girls hadn't called for her. As she ushered them out of the room, she'd tutted and shaken her head, but seeing the tears falling down Emma's cheeks, she'd taken pity on them and reassured them that Mr Grimshaw was in a better place now.

  'Come on, Em, let's get out of here. I think you've dealt with enough today. Let's go and get some fresh air,' persuaded Lana as she took her sister's hand and led her away from the second floor, down the stairs and out into the bright sunlight.

  'Oh, I forgot I don't have my bike here. I came in the ambulance this morning,' Emma sighed as the tears continued to flow.

  'We can manage', said Lana as she made Emma sit side-saddle on the frame between her and the handlebars, like children.

  Emma managed a giggle as they went on their way, away from the hospital, away from death.

  'I still can't quite believe what happened to you today,' she said loudly as Lana pedalled, out of breath, up a gentle hill back towards their little house.

  'I know, it's crazy,' she panted, 'I still can't believe it myself. Were it not for the tattoo, I wouldn't. I can't believe what's happened to you today either,' she laughed and then realised it wasn't funny and shut up, 'Sorry.'

  'It's okay. It's all really bizarre. You know, I don't want to go home just yet.'

  Lana stopped pedalling and pulled over, letting Emma hop off.

  'What do you wanna do then?' she asked.

  'I want to go to Mr Grimshaw's house,' she whispered.

  'Oh... but why?'

  Emma shrugged her shoulders, 'I dunno, I just do. I just have this feeling, you know?'

  'Uh oh.'

  'What?'

  'I had one of 'those' feelings this morning, remember, and look what happened to me?'

  The girls chuckled and started walking, Lana pushing the bike along between them.

  'Okay, let's go over to Mr Grimshaw's, but let's go home first and pick up your bike.'

  Mr Grimshaw lived in an old farmhouse, isolated from neighbours, about a twenty minute ride from their house. He had no family to speak of and so the house was empty, apart from an old, half blind mutt that wouldn't stop barking when they first arrived.

  Approaching the gate, the little shaggy-haired black dog howled at them before it started wagging its fluffy tale uncontrollably.

  'Hello boy,' said Emma as she bent down to pet him on his back. He soon rolled over though, making the girls laugh as she tickled his tummy.

  'The poor thing, what's going to happen to him now?' said Emma while Lana shrugged, looking around.

  'Maybe we should take him home with us?'

  Lana immediately shook her head, 'No way. It's a mangy mutt, we don't need a mangy mutt getting in our way. The house isn't big enough for the six of us, let alone a dog as well.'

  'Lana, you're so cold hearted. The poor thing has just lost his owner. He's all alone.'

  A movement towards the back of the house caught Lana's eye. 'I'm not quite sure about that. Look, Em, there's someone out the back,' she whispered as she began to walk quickly around the side of the house.

  'Wait for me,' said Emma as she ran after her, leaving the dog who laid down to enjoy the sun on his belly. 'Great guard dog you are,' she laughed as she glanced back at him.

  'Shhh,' whispered Lana, holding her finger to her lips, 'There's someone just gone in through the back door.'

  'Well, maybe it's the police or something?'

  'Don't you think I'd recognise him if it was? Are you forgetting Dad is the Chief Constable? We know every last police officer on this island, Em.'

  'Well, what did he look like?'

  'Medium height, dark brown hair, wearing a weird blue jacket, loose fitting black trousers and black shoes.'

  A vague recollection flashed across Emma's mind but she shook her head and followed Lana who was peering through the back window into the kitchen.

  'I can't see... I'm going in,' she said as she carefully squeezed through the door that was already ajar, without making a noise.

  'Lana, we're kind of trespassing, you know?'

  'No, we're investigating a possible break-in,' she said as they both crept through the kitchen and screwed their noses up in disgust at the rubbish strewn everywhere and the piles of dirty dishes scattered across the worktop and sink.

  'Jeese, did he never clean this place?'

  'Lana, the poor man's dead. Show some respect.'

  Ignoring her, Lana continued to walk through into the dining room, which had the same amount of old pots and plates everywhere. She moved as quickly as she could through the house until she reached the front door which was firmly closed. Crouching down and peering through the letterbox it, she just saw the back of a man disappear into the distance.

  'Damn, we lost him,' she said, turning to find that her sister wasn't behind her. 'Emma?'

  'I'm in here.'

  The living room was a little tidier than the other rooms she'd seen, for starters there was room for a couple of armchairs and a television. The décor looks like something out of a museum, she thought as she wandered back through to look for her sister.

  'Where, Emma?'

  'In here,' she said as she poked her head out of a door just beyond the stairs. 'You need to see this.'

  It was a tiny room, immaculate, with a small rocking chair by the hearth. And all around on every wall were old photos. Every one of the same woman. A beautiful woman with wild long dark brown hair, high cheekbones and huge expressive eyes. 'Em, she looks a little bit like you,' Lana breathed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The mangy mutt sat happily sleeping beneath Lucy's feet at the dinner table while Lucy sat beaming. She'd always wanted a pet and now her dream had come true. She was going to call him Henry.

  'You can't j
ust change his name,' said Greg, their 12 year old brother, matter of factly. 'He already has a name. He'll never come to you unless you use his real name.'

  'But we don't know what he's really called, so his new name is Henry,' said Lucy as she sucked a piece of spaghetti through her lips.

  'Henry? But that's a horrible name. I want to call him by his real name,' he replied.

  'That is his real name. It's his new real name,' she replied with a scowl.

  'Lucy you're such a child.'

  'I am not. I'm eight. I'm nearly as old as you are.'

  'You'll never be as old as me, Lucy Jo. I'll always be the eldest,' he said, sticking out his chin.

  'Well that's not strictly true is it?' interrupted Lana with a smirk, 'I do believe that both me and Emma are heaps older than you, Greg.'

  'Yes but you don't really count, do you?' he said, instantly regretting it, biting his lip.

  'What? Because we're adopted?' Lana coughed into her glass of Doctor Pepper.

  Greg looked like he was about to cry when Emma interrupted them, 'We might be adopted, but we're still your sisters, Greg. And we love our little brother and sister, don't we, Lana?" she said eye balling her across the table.

  Lana chuckled and nodded as Audrey looked across at her husband and smiled.

  'Who wants pudding?' she said, standing up quickly as the kids all cheered and she began clearing the plates away.

  'I'll help you, Mum,' said Lana as she stood up, but a sudden pain in her abdomen caused her to bend over, dropping the plate she'd picked up. Leftover spaghetti bolognese splattered all over the floor.

  Henry rushed over and began cleaning the floor happily.

  'Oh Lana, you should be more careful,' said Patrick before he realised she was in pain. 'What is it, sweetheart? What's wrong?' he asked as he rushed to her side and helped her over to the little sofa in the corner of the kitchen.

  Lana shot a look of help to Emma who instantly realised what was going on.

  'It's okay, Dad. I'll take her upstairs. She's just got, erm.... women's pains, you know?' she lied.

  Patrick stood upright and blushed, 'Oh, okay. Shall I bring you a hot water bottle up, love?' he asked and Emma smiled.

  'No Dad, I'll be okay. Thanks though,' muttered Lana through gritted teeth. 'Perhaps some painkillers though.'

  Audrey was already standing on a stool reaching into the cupboard where they kept such things. Tossing a packet of Paracetamol down, Patrick caught it and handed it to his daughter before they disappeared upstairs.

  'Thanks for that, Em,' said Lana as she curled up on the bed.

  'Is it the tattoo thing again?' she asked as Lana nodded uncomfortably while rolling up her sweatshirt to reveal the inky pattern moving across her abdomen.

  Emma gasped, almost falling backwards as she watched the so-called tattoo move slowly around her sister's torso until eventually it came to a halt on her lower back.

  'It's stopped,' she whispered.

  'Are you sure?' asked Lana with tears in her eyes.

  Nodding, Emma tiptoed forward and bent down to have a closer look. 'There... there are words...'

  'What do you mean, words?'

  'Words, among the pattern. It says something,' she said as she very gently touched her skin, following the letters with her finger. 'Provehito In Altum,' she whispered, 'I think it's Latin.'

  'Prove in what?' said Lana as she unsuccessfully tried to look over her own shoulder before giving in and getting up to go to the full length mirror inside the wardrobe door.

  'I can't read it back to front,' she huffed. 'What the hell is it, Emma? What's happening to me?'

  Emma, who was gazing at her from her own bed, squinted her eyes slightly, 'Are you sure you're telling me everything? I mean, this all sounds a bit, you know... crazy?'

  'You don't believe me?' shrieked Lana, 'Oh My God, Emma,' she added, shaking her head before sitting down on the edge of her bed.

  'It's not that I don't believe you. Of course I believe what you've told me... it's just that, well, I'm wondering whether someone erm, well, drugged you or something and maybe did that tattoo when you were unconscious or something. Maybe we should tell Dad? If there's someone out there drugging young women... well...'

  Looking across at her sister, Emma stopped talking as she noticed tears falling down Lana's cheeks. This was serious. Lana never cried.

  'I... I don't know... I remember falling off Carlton Point, Em, I do and this? It just appeared... how can a tattoo crawl all over your body? It just doesn't make any sense,' she spluttered.

  Emma stood up and walked over, sat down beside her and took hold of her hand, 'It's okay, Lana. We'll figure it out.'

  Lana attempted a smile, 'Please don't tell Dad. He won't believe me, Em. You're the only one I can trust with this.'

  'Okay, I promise. Now let's have another look at your back. I wonder what the words mean?' she said as Lana stood and lifted her top to reveal those three written words 'Provehito in Altum'.

  'Can you take a photo with my camera, so I can see it properly?' asked Lana as she watched Emma scrutinising it.

  A couple of minutes later, Emma had uploaded the image to her laptop and both sat staring at the downloads. It wasn't just the image of the tattoo but the photos that Lana had taken at the top of Carlton Point. Proof that she'd been there.

  'I'd forgotten all about them,' she exclaimed with her eyes wide open and she turned her head to look at Emma. 'See? This is absolute proof of what happened.'

  Emma stared back before turning towards the laptop and flicking through the pictures of the view. She opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out.

  'Do you believe me now, Sis? I mean, I know you said that you believed me before but do you, like, really believe me now?'

  Emma said nothing, she just nodded and swallowed. She knew that Lana would normally have been filled with sheer terror at the mere thought of climbing to the top of Carlton Point, and yet there she was. A photo she'd taken herself with her arm outstretched, standing, smiling at the highest point on Andilyse Island. It was clear that she was alone. And she looked ecstatic.

  As they continued to flick through the images, they eventually came to the tattoo.

  There was no doubt about it, it was beautiful. The words looked like they'd been there forever, there was no scarring, no redness and the pain had almost entirely gone. The words just seemed to hug the curvature of her lower back.

  Above the short phrase was a symbol that looked like an eye with wings. Although they both thought it was vaguely familiar, neither could identify it.

  'Let's look up the words,' Lana said, breathlessly, as Emma typed them into Google.

  'Oh look,' exclaimed Lana, 'It's 30 Seconds to Mars. Provehito in Altum is their motto! Oh, do you think I have some connection to the rock band? I just love Jared Leto,' she swooned.

  Emma merely laughed and continued searching until she found what she was looking for. A literal translation. Provehito in Altum was Latin for 'Launch Forward Into The Deep'.

  'Oh... okay... but what does it mean?' asked Lana with a deep yawn.

  'I honestly don't know. But don't worry. We'll find out.'

  Later that night, Emma listened to the gentle sounds of her sister's breath as she slept. Occasionally the sound would quicken and Lana would thrash around below her duvet before calming down again peacefully. Emma, on the other hand, couldn't sleep. She thought about Lana's strange moving tattoo as well as Carlton Point but that wasn't what was keeping her awake. It was the boy on the beach and Mr Grimshaw. Both had died right in front of her. Why had they both called out to her? And who was Emelia? And, although she hadn't seen him herself, who was the stranger poking around Mr Grimshaw's house?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Darkness was all around her. The silence punctuated only by the sounds of an owl in the distance. Lana shivered while her eyes adjusted to the blackness surrounding her. Standing deathly still, she listened. Sticking out her neck slightl
y, she could just about hear the gentle rock of the shore not too far away. It sounded familiar. It sounded like the bottom of the garden.

  She turned and just made out the back of the house, but it wasn't the same somehow. The rose garden that her mother had spent so many hours tending to, wasn't there. Instead, a massive expanse of ivy covered the whitewashed walls. Only two pairs of wellies, instead of six, stood under the lean-to next to the door.

  Underneath her feet, Lana's toes squelched in the mud, where there should have been a lovely lawned area. Why am I not wearing any shoes? she thought before she suddenly realised she was also wearing pyjamas. What's going on? Oh, it's just a dream, she smiled as she walked down the garden towards the cliff edge.

  Glancing down across the dim moon-lit shore below, she gasped at the sight of a small hot air balloon drifting towards her. It wasn't like the ones she'd seen on TV, this one was much smaller, almost like a miniature one but the balloon part was beautiful. As it came closer and closer, she could make out the intense blues, reds and golden colours that intertwined within the intricate pattern of the fabric.

  Lana stepped backwards as she watched it gracefully land halfway between the cliff edge and the house. Skipping across to get a closer look, a slight gurgle sound came from the little basket beneath it.

  As she approached silently, she peered down, gasping at the sight of a tiny baby with dark skin and a flash of dark hair. It giggled at her, kicking its arms and legs out playfully.

  Leaning in, Lana noticed something on the pretty blanket that the baby was wrapped in, it was a symbol. An eye with wings...

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lana woke with a start. A strange feeling bubbled up from her toes to her stomach as she remembered yesterday. A faint groan lingered on her lips as she felt across to her lower back, the dream all but forgotten.

  As Emma was snoring, she decided not to bother her for a while. Instead, she grabbed her favourite pink and black fluffy nightgown and crept out of their room, gently closing the door behind her before quietly walking down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky step that always woke her sister.

 

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