Really Weird Removals.com

by Daniela Sacerdoti

  Someone who is not Valentina is standing beside my bed, staring at me. Someone… see-through. Someone floating!

  Oh Mamma Mia! I open my mouth, but my sister dives on me to cover it with her hand.

  “PFFFFPFFPFF… PFPFPF!! PFF!”

  “Don’t scream, Luca, you’ll wake Mum and Dad!” Valentina’s hand is still clasped across my mouth. I nod.

  “Pffmm.” I nod again, frantically. What is that? Who is that?

  “You won’t scream?”

  “LET ME… I mean, let me go!” I whisper, remembering my promise. My heart feels like it’s jumping out of my chest.

  “Luca, this is Camilla.”

  I blink, over and over again. The shadow that was perched on Alistair’s shoulder, the one that looked like a little girl when it walked upstairs with him and Dad, is here. It is a girl. Transparent, sort of blue-grey, and suspended in mid-air.

  “How do you do,” she says, and her voice sounds a bit echoing, as if it’s coming from the bottom of a well. She’s smiling. Her long dark hair is in two braids. She’s wearing a white lacy sort of dress, and she has bare feet. She looks about eleven years old: my sister’s age.

  All I can think to say is: “You have no shoes on.”

  “They came off when I drowned,” she says cheerily.

  Oh.

  “Camilla was thrown out of her house!” says Valentina indignantly.

  “They said it was infested. The family that bought my house,” Camilla explains. “It took me a while to realise they meant me. I was the infestation.”

  “She’d been living there for, like, a hundred years! She was there long before them!” Valentina is outraged.

  “Shocking!” I get carried away.

  “I’d never been out of my house before. I mean, not since I became a ghost. I was so scared…”

  Valentina puts a comforting hand on Camilla’s shoulder.

  “Then your uncle, Alistair, found me crying my eyes out, and he took me in. He could actually see me!”

  “So can we!” says Valentina happily.

  “I know! I have a real family now. Alistair, you and you!” she whispers emphatically. The two girls hug, Camilla’s transparent arms around Valentina’s pyjama-clad ones.

  “Camilla,” I begin, and then I stop. I’m actually talking to a ghost. I take a deep breath. “My mum said that Alistair’s house was infested. Obviously Alistair wasn’t talking about you…”

  She shakes her head vigorously. “No, not me! I don’t infest anywhere. Never in my life! It wasn’t me. It was a horrible scary man. He wanted to throw us out. And he did! He did dreadful things…”

  “You mean, a dead man? A ghost, like you?”

  “Yes. Alistair has this… business, you see. It’s called the Really Weird Removals Company, RWR for short. People with ghosts, and other things bothering them – they can email him, and he tells them he’ll get rid of the problem, but he actually helps the things he’s getting rid of. He’s saved a lot of us.”

  “So that’s his pest control business?”

  “Well, that’s what he calls it when he can’t say what he really does.”

  “I see…” Valentina and I exchange a glance. “So he doesn’t get rid of rats and cockroaches?”

  “Well, we had a mouse once. He put it in the garden,” Camilla tells us.

  “I’m not sure that counts…”

  Weird Removals? Saving ghosts? And other things? What things, exactly? I can’t wait to ask Uncle Alistair about it.

  “Well, anyway, he tried to help this ghost who was bothering some people. Rupert Cleaver, he’s called. But he’s horrible and crazy. He left them and came into our home and started tormenting us!” Her whole body quivers and blurs for a second. “That’s why we’re here. We had to escape.”

  “This Rupert Cleaver… what did he do to make you run away?”

  “Oh, it was just awful!” says Camilla dramatically. She’s so emphatic. It’s as if she speaks in italics. “He filled our bath tub with BLOOD!” As she says this she floats upwards a bit, quivering, then comes back down again.

  “Yuk!” Valentina and I whisper in unison.

  “Yes! And he put these awful wriggly maggots all over our kitchen, and he started jumping out of cupboards and drawers, just to scare us. Alistair couldn’t even brush his teeth without Rupert popping into the bathroom mirror and making faces. It was exhausting.”

  “Could you not have gone somewhere else in London? Why come all the way up here?”

  “We tried, several places, but he kept following us.”

  My sister and I look at each other. We have the same thought.

  “Could he have followed you up here?” asks Valentina, her brown eyes as big as saucers.

  “No. You see, Rupert hates water! That’s why we tried to put big full basins everywhere, and jugs and cups and glasses and whatever we could find. Alistair nearly set the house on fire when some water spilt onto the TV. I was watching Eastenders, it was really annoying. But it didn’t work completely. It only slowed Rupert down a bit. And it made him even angrier! But we reckoned the sea would put him off.”

  “Oh!” whispers Valentina.

  “Yes! The sea is too much for him. And a choppy sea as well! I had never seen a sea like this one when I was alive. We used to go to Margate sometimes, in the summer. It was like a giant bathtub, really. But this! It’s like… it’s like the sea is dancing!” She twirls. She’s a cheery ghost, that’s for sure. I can’t help but smile.

  Then an idea comes into my mind. A pretty good idea. Yes. I think I’ll ask her.

  “Camilla, I was wondering, as we are friends now–”

  “Can you be my brother instead? I didn’t have any brothers or sisters when I was alive…”

  “Can I be your sister too?” asks Valentina eagerly.

  “Of course! My brother Luca. My sister Valentina.” She laughs, a faraway sound, coming from somewhere else, some time else.

  “So what I wanted to ask you is–” I try to continue.

  “Children! What on earth are you doing awake at this hour!” A wedge of light seeps in from the door, and Mum’s face appears in it. My heart stops. How are we going to explain this?

  “What’s wrong?” she adds, looking suspiciously from Valentina to me.

  “I… we…”

  “I heard you talking… Valentina, what are you doing in Luca’s room in the middle of the night?” Then I realise: Mum can’t see Camilla, still floating in mid-air, perfectly still. I start breathing again.

  “I had a nightmare,” gabbles Valentina.

  “Oh, wee soul!” Mum sits down on my bed and puts her arms around Valentina. “Are you ok now?”

  She nods. We look at each other.

  “Come on tesoro, I’ll take you to bed. Night Luca, thanks for looking after your sister.”

  “Night Mum, night Valentina.”

  Valentina throws me one last wide-eyed look before disappearing out my bedroom door, followed by Camilla.

  My question will just have to wait. The house quietens down again, the lights go off. There’s no way I can go back to sleep. Not with a ghost in the house. I am lying in the darkness, thinking, when a faint glow starts lighting up the room again. Camilla materialises slowly, sitting cross-legged at the foot of my bed.

  “So what did you want to ask me?”

  “Well, you know the way Alistair and Valentina and me, we can see you, but my mum and dad can’t?” I’m talking as if having a little ghostly girl sitting on my bed was perfectly normal.

  “Yes.”

  “Why is that, do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Some people see us, most people don’t. It’s just the way it is. I could make myself visible to other people if I wanted to. I tried a few times… I was lonely and I wanted a family. But I stopped doing it because they always got really scared. They screamed and went all pale. Nobody wanted to speak to me,” she adds sadly.

  “That’s a shame. I’m sorry…”r />
  “I have Alistair and the two of you now!” Camilla looks so happy, it makes me smile.

  “So you can make yourself visible to anyone, if you want to?”

  “Yes.”

  “In that case, would you do something for me?”

  “Sure!”

  “Would you… would you scare someone for me? Appear to them and scare them? I know it sounds like a mean thing to do, but this boy has been awful to me for ages, he says horrible things about my mum and dad, and he hits me when we play shinty, and…”

  “Shint what?”

  “Shinty. It’s a sport we play up here in the islands. It’s a bit like hockey. But better. This boy on the team, he makes my life miserable. He’s a lot bigger than me.”

  “He sounds horrible. A bit like Rupert Cleaver, only Rupert is dead! What’s his name?”

  “Gary.”

  “I’ll terrify him for you. Where will I find him?”

  I think for a moment.

  “At shinty practice. Next week. I’ll find a way you can catch him alone.”

  I feel a bit guilty. Not much, just a little.

  “All sorted then. Goodnight Luca. I’m going for a floatabout. Bye bye.” Camilla disappears through the window. I watch her flying down the street and over the roofs, towards the beach, her little shape glowing blue-green like a St Elmo’s fire.

  “Night, Camilla,” I whisper, more to myself really.

  My life is getting weirder by the minute. But a good sort of weird.

  5. THE OCTOPUS IN THE LUNCH BOX

  Alistair Grant’s Scottish Paranormal Database

  Entry Number 291: Saltwater slug

  Type: Cryptozoology

  Location: Tobermory, Argyll

  Date: 1973

  Details: In October 1973, fishermen Gordon and Bobby Shearer, father and son, dragged up an unknown creature among their usual catch. It was sausage-shaped, grey in colour, three feet long and eleven inches in diameter. It had no eyes and no sign of a mouth, but two holes at either extremity. Because of its resemblance to a slug, they called it “saltwater slug”. The event is recorded in the Tobermory Gazette and in the personal archives of Mr Shearer.

  I’m sitting at the kitchen table, stirring milk into my Coco Pops and thinking about things.

  “Hurry up, pet, you’ll be late.” Aunt Shuna has a spring in her step today. She looks so happy. I can see how much she’s missed Uncle Alistair, all these years.

  “Ok.” I finish my breakfast quickly, throw my coat on and grab my bag.

  “VALENTINA, I’M GOOOOING!” I call up the stairs. My sister and I always leave for school together, but we split up on the way, walking with our respective friends.

  Valentina runs down, her hair in two braids – my mum always has a struggle to tie her hair back for school, but this morning she actually asked for it to be braided. Camilla’s influence, I suspect.

  “Have you seen Camilla this morning?” I whisper as we open the door. It’s a clear chilly spring morning, and the air is fresh and salty.

  “No, she was out all night.” We start talking at a normal volume as we reach the street, but I still glance behind us in case someone’s listening.

  “I’ve asked her a favour… to scare Gary for me.”

  “Great idea!” Her face lights up. “Though I could have done that for you.”

  Valentina has offered to pour her insect collection into Gary’s shinty bag, but I didn’t want her involved in case she got into trouble. “Well, Camilla will do it in style… I mean, your way would have been amazing too!” I add quickly, not wanting to hurt her feelings.

  She shrugs.

  “Where’s Uncle Alistair?” I ask.

  “He went out really early, Aunt Shuna said. He’s looking for somewhere to rent. Dad’s only allowing him to stay one night.”

  “Mmmm. And he needs an office. For his removals business.”

  “I’m going to help him with that.”

  I smile. Valentina is the most determined person I know.

  Suddenly, Adil is standing at my shoulder. “Hi, listen, am I in trouble with your mum?”

  “No, of course not!” I laugh. Adil is perpetually scared to put a foot wrong.

  “Bye Luca, bye Adil!” My sister crosses the road to walk with a friend.

  We’re strolling down the street past the multicoloured houses, chatting away, when suddenly somebody jumps out of a doorway in front of me.

  “MORNING LUCA!” Uncle Alistair booms, scaring us to death. “COME WITH ME!”

  “Good grief!” That’s Adil getting a massive fright. I told you he never swears.

  “MY NEW OFFICE!” Bet they can hear Uncle Alistair in Glasgow. He leads us towards a doorway. “Come in, come and have a cup of tea!”

  “This is great, Uncle Alistair… but I can’t, I have to go to school.”

  “Ach, come on, just for a second. And bring your friend.”

  We walk into a small front room. There’s a table with a computer on it, a noticeboard brimming with photos, a small bookshelf filled with books, and a huge map of Scotland on the wall with little red pins stuck all over it. Wow, he did all that between last night and this morning?

  “That’s fantastic!” I say.

  “It is, yes, though I say so myself. Milk? Sugar? Or would you prefer that lovely stuff your mum drinks, espresso, as thick as anything, so you could cut it with a knife! Actually, I only have instant – is that okay?”

  “I don’t drink coffee or tea.”

  “Orange juice?” Uncle Alistair asks, opening the small fridge. Adil and I catch a glimpse of rows and rows of small bottles: blue, yellow, muddy green, and a swirling one with little silver speckles in it. My uncle grabs a carton of orange juice and closes the fridge quickly.

  Adil taps at his watch and mouths, “We’re going to be late!”

  “Sorry Uncle Alistair, we have to go. Why don’t I walk down after school? I’m free this afternoon.”

  “Sure, sure, brilliant, see you then.” Adil is looking at the photos on the noticeboard. Uncle Alistair sidles up to me and bends down to whisper in my ear. “On your own. I have stuff to show you.” I nod conspiratorially.

  “We met Camilla last night,” I whisper back.

  “Did you? Oh great, great. She went for a floatabout earlier and I haven’t seen her since. She does that sometimes.”

  “What is this?” says Adil, twisting his head to one side and squinting.

  “Oh, that. That’s a saltwater slug. A big one.”

  “A saltwater… slug?”

  “Yes, well, we’re going to be late! Let’s go!” I grab Adil by the sleeve of his duffle coat.

  “THANKS FOR COMING, GUYS! SEE YOU LATER!” Uncle Alistair shouts. Ouch. Why can he not speak at a normal volume? It’d be rude to ask, so I don’t.

  The school day goes slowly, as slowly as a… as a saltwater slug. I’m way too old for Eilean Primary, I’m well ready to go on to high school and start my life. I want to be a writer, like my dad. I’m going to be as famous as him.

  Lunchtime.

  “What’s that crap, Luca?”

  Here comes Gary and his mates. I sigh.

  I munch on my saffron risotto. Yes, this is the kind of thing I get in my lunch box: saffron risotto, penne with olives and capers, spaghetti with a walnut sauce. My friends get ham sandwiches, cheese sandwiches, maybe a tuna wrap… But my mum is passionate about food and I love what she cooks. Of course, Gary and his friends make a habit of laughing at the contents of my lunch box every single day.

  “Saffron risotto, Gary. And your point is?” I raise my head and I catch a glimpse of Valentina framed in the door of the lunch hall, watching Gary with a deadly look in her eyes, before joining her friends at the primary 6 table.

  “You people eat strange stuff, it makes me sick.”

  Us people? Adil leans over.

  “I happen to find your ham sandwich disgusting, Gary. Everything is relative.” My heart warms. Adil wouldn’t sa
y boo to a goose, but he always tries to stick up for me. Gary shoots him a look that means Adil is also included in the “you people” category.

  They move away and sit at the table near the door, well away from us – in case we contaminate their lunch, no doubt. Barely a minute goes by when we hear a scream. Gary jumps up and throws his lunch box off the table.

  “WHAT’S THAT!?!?” he shouts, with a look of horror on his face.

  His lunch box is lying open on the floor, and in it, even from here, I can see a slimy, very dead octopus.

  Mrs Craig and Mrs Duncan run to the scene, the janitor is called, and Gary is taken into the office, shaking. The head teacher, Mr McLaughlin, tells everyone it was a very silly, cruel trick to play and that whoever is responsible should be ashamed of themselves. Everybody looks down, but some of us can’t hide our satisfaction. There are quite a few people who get routinely tormented by Gary and his friends.

  My eyes meet Valentina’s across the hall. A little imperceptible smile is curling her lips.

  ***

  “Where did you find a dead octopus?” I ask her on the way home from school.

  “I know people,” she says loftily. Her white-blonde hair is loose again and it’s flowing in the chilly breeze.

  “Donald?”

  “Yes.” She beams. Valentina loves going down the harbour. She scans the catch, hoping to find weird creatures. Her dream is to find something really strange, photograph it and be featured in Cryptozoology Today. Donald Anderson is one of the fishermen who look out for bizarre fish for her. He’s a kind man, who sort of adopted her as a granddaughter, because his own grandchildren live in Canada.

  “I told you not to get involved,” I tell her. “I don’t want Gary to start picking on you.”

  “He’s welcome to try,” says Valentina. She has that dark look again. She reminds me a bit of our dad. It makes me think I should worry more for Gary than for her.

  We’re walking to Uncle Alistair’s new office in Osprey Road. It’s the light-blue house, tall and thin, between a white one and a yellow one. I can’t wait to find out what he wants to show us.

  We knock at the door. No reply. We knock at the window. Still no reply.