Storage Ghosts
The Write Dream
Chapter 1
“And here we have Grace, my younger sister, cleaning the shelves of our shop. She’s eagerly preparing them for our new stock. You can see the excitement in her face as she scrubs that glass.”
Grace looked up from the shelf. “Are you talking to me?”
“And over here is some of our existing stock, these tables and chairs are prices at reasonable amounts.”
“Frankie! Who are you talking to?” Grace asked.
Frankie hissed at her, “Shhh! I’m filming. Just get back to your cleaning.”
“Filming what? I don’t want to be filmed,” Grace said with a frown.
Frankie sighed and tapped the record button on his phone to ‘off’. “I’m filming our shop so my followers can see what my day to day life is like.”
Grace gave a little smile and folded her arms. “Followers? What followers?”
“I told you that I’ve set up a website,” Frankie began.
“You did. Is it live yet? Don’t tell me you’re posting video clips on it? Am I in any of them?”
“Calm down. The site is live and I’ve had 2 visitors.” Frankie gave her a proud look.
“And the video clips?” Grace prompted.
“I’m putting them on my social network site. I’ve got 5 followers on there. I think they would like to see how my business works. How I cleverly bid at auctions and get the best items. Then they can see where the items end up, they could come and visit our shop.”
Grace narrowed her eyes at her brother. “That’s quite clever, did you think this up yourself?”
Frankie fiddled with a button on his phone. “Sort of, Big Bob suggested it. People like videos. And do you know what else I thought of? If we get a good item we could do our own auction through the website, get a good price for it. I’ve already listed some things.”
Grace nodded. “That is a good idea. Have you made any sales yet?”
“It’s early days. Can you move out of the way, Grace. I want to get a shot of that old teapot.”
Grace held her hand up. “Just a minute, I want to know if I’m in the videos or not. I don’t want to be in them.”
Frankie grimaced. “Too late, I’ve already posted a few. You don’t look that bad on them, but to be honest, Grace, you could do with some more make up.”
Grace threw the duster at him. “And you could do with some more manners! Why are you filming the teapot?”
“You know why,” Frankie said. He started to record again. His voice had a serious tone as he said, “Here it is, the infamous teapot. The very one that was used in an attempted murder.”
“Pah!” Grace called out.
Frankie continued, “The attempted murder of a vicious loan shark called Eddie Tominski. If you’re not aware of what happened I’ll fill you in. The evil Eddie tried to poison my sister, Grace, but she whacked him on the head with this very teapot.” Frankie zoomed in. “If you look closer you can still see specks of blood on the bottom. Grace! Get out of the way!”
Grace glared at Frankie and put her outstretched hand towards the camera. “I don’t want you videoing that. It will attract the wrong sort of customers. I want to forget all about Eddie Tominski. Please, Frankie.”
Frankie gave her a pleading look. “Come on, it’ll be great publicity.”
Grace shook her head. “I’ve had enough publicity to last me a lifetime. Eddie’s locked up now, I’m still struggling to deal with the fact that he killed Mum and Dad. I want to put it behind me. There must be something else you can film.”
Frankie studied her. “Okay, I understand. It would make a good story though. You look tired again, didn’t you sleep well?”
“I’m getting better,” Grace admitted.
Frankie put his phone down on a table. “I’ll make us a cuppa. Are there any biscuits left or have you scoffed them all?”
Grace tutted. “I’ve only had one.”
“One biscuit or one packet?” Frankie said with a grin. “If I see a safe at an auction I’m going to buy it and lock the biscuits up! Won’t be a minute.”
Frankie walked towards the kitchen.
Grace looked at his phone. Did she really look tired? And did she need more make up on, or was Frankie being his usual cheeky self?
She heard Frankie whistling in the kitchen. She picked his phone up and played the videos that he’d just recorded. The first one showed her polishing the shelf. No, she didn’t look that bad, a bit puffy eyed but that was to be expected. There would come a night when she didn’t cry herself to sleep.
The second video gave her a jolt. It showed the teapot on the table.
But there was someone standing behind it.
Someone who Grace hadn’t seen with her naked eyes.
It was the ghost of an old woman. Only the top half of her was visible behind the teapot.
The woman grinned at the camera as if she knew she was being filmed.
Grace looked around the shop. She couldn’t see anyone.
Since the car accident that had claimed her parents’ lives, and nearly her own, Grace had been able to see ghosts. But she couldn’t see this one.
She had been helping ghosts that she’d met at storage locker auctions and the last ones had told her that the ghost of an old woman was hanging around Grace.
It was the old woman who had whacked Eddie Tominski on the head on that horrible day.
Grace looked closer at the teapot and whispered, “Please show yourself, whoever you are.”
Chapter 2
The old woman never appeared.
Later on, Grace wondered who the old woman was as she gazed out of the van window. Had the woman lived at the shop when she was alive? Was she somehow attached to the teapot? And why wouldn’t she show herself to Grace?
Frankie was driving them to a storage locker auction. Frankie had made her watch the storage auction programmes on TV. They were set in America and different to the ones she’d been to. The Americans seemed friendlier, the bidders that she’d come across in England looked sour faced, as if they’d spent their lives sucking lemons. Frankie had told her that they looked like that on purpose, so that the other bidders never knew when they were excited about a locker.
Grace wasn’t convinced. Some people enjoyed being miserable.
They pulled in the storage facility and Grace got out with a bright smile on her face. She called out a cheery hello to anyone who looked her way.
One person did smile and say hello back. It was Big Bob, their friend. He had known Grace’s dad, they had toured antique fairs together years ago.
Big Bob walked towards them. He was wearing a brown fluffy jumper and reminded Grace more than ever of a grizzly bear, a friendly grizzly bear.
“Morning, you two. Frankie, how’s the site going? I saw the videos, great fun. You should put some on your website too.”
Frankie smiled proudly. Grace suspected that Frankie was beginning to look upon Big Bob as a father figure.
Frankie said, “I’ve had 20 visitors to my site now, and I’ve had 50 views of my latest video. I think I’m becoming some sort of superstar!”
“Talking of superstars, here comes your hero,” Grace nodded towards an office door.
The door opened and the sun seemed to shine brighter as an older man stepped out. He beamed a megawatt smile at everyone and held his arms wide to welcome them. His silver hair was perfectly styled and the collar of his red satin shirt pulled up. He looked like he was walking onto a stage.
Grace smiled back at Sylvester Sylver. After watching the storage TV programmes she now agreed with Frankie that Sylvester was the best auctioneer on the te
lly. Though why he left sunny California for this land of lemon suckers was a puzzle to her.
Frankie grabbed Grace’s sleeve. He hissed, “Grace, I need a favour.”
Grace frowned at him. “What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
He shook his head. “Will you ask Sylvester if I can film him for my website? Just the opening bit where he tells everyone the rules.”
“Why can’t you ask him? I thought he was your new best friend.”
Frankie pulled her closer and said, “I can’t ask him that! I’d look like a right idiot, like some sort of star struck fan!”
Grace couldn’t keep her smile in. “But you are a star struck fan, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you asked him.”
Frankie let go of her sleeve and looked at the ground. “Please, Grace, I’m too embarrassed to ask. What if he says no? I couldn’t bear it.”
Grace’s eyes widened. She’d never known Frankie to be embarrassed about anything. “Okay, I’ll ask him. Don’t we need to sign in at the office?”
Frankie looked up and gave her a quick grin. “Thanks, Grace, I’ll sign us in whilst you talk to Sylvester. Make him think it was your idea.”
Frankie sped off to the office.
Big Bob looked down at Grace and said, “I heard all of that. He’s still in awe of Sylvester, isn’t he?”
Grace nodded. “He is. I’d better go and talk to the great man.”
Sylvester Sylver was more than happy to be filmed. “Make sure you don’t include anyone else’s faces though, you’d need their written permission to broadcast the video.”
Frankie almost burst with glee when Grace told him the good news. His hands shook as he started to film the great auctioneer.
“Let me do it, it’ll look like we’re having an earthquake with your shaky hands,” Grace said.
She took his phone and pressed record. Sylvester looked around the crowd and treated them again to his Hollywood smile.
“Good morning, folks! What a beautiful day it is. And what amazing lockers we’ve got for you today! As always, you get 30 seconds to look inside the locker. No one is allowed in, you will be thrown out if you do!” At this point Sylvester flexed his muscles. There were a few laughs, the loudest came from Frankie. Sylvester continued, “Whoever gets the highest bid gets the locker. It’s cash only, no cheques, no IOUs and no running off to an ATM! Are we ready? I can’t hear you! Are we ready?”
Frankie almost deafened Grace with his cheers.
Grace had kept the phone steady. It hadn’t been easy. As she looked at the phone’s screen she’d seen ghosts wandering around the storage facility. The hairs on her arms had lifted as some of them passed close by. She’d held her nerve as some stared right at her, as if sensing that she could see them.
As soon as she pressed stop on the phone the awful images disappeared.
She had no idea that there were so many ghosts around. She shivered, it felt like one had just walked through her.
What were they all doing here? Were they all attached to items from the lockers? Or was this the norm? Did ghosts roam around freely everywhere?
Frankie took the phone and quickly looked at the footage. “Awesome. Can’t wait to post this.”
The first storage locker was opened.
Grace wasn’t sure if she wanted to see anymore ghosts.
She didn’t have a choice.
Chapter 3
Big Bob said to them, “This is a good unit, look at all that furniture, looks Victorian to me. Are you interested in bidding?”
Frankie narrowed his eyes as he looked at the contents. “No, it’s good stuff but it won’t fit in our shop.”
“I’m planning to bid. I’m going closer for a better look,” Big Bob said.
“I’ll come with you,” Grace said.
She wasn’t bothered about the furniture, she wanted a closer look at the ghost that was inside the locker.
Whilst Big Bob examined the huge wardrobe and dining table Grace looked at the female ghost.
She was sitting on an upholstered chair, her skirt flowing down to her feet. The young woman was smiling as she worked on a tapestry.
Grace smiled at the scene. For a moment she wondered what it must have been like to be a Victorian woman. To have everyone decide your life for you. Your only concern was to find a wealthy husband. No worries about running a business.
Would Grace like it? She closed her eyes for a moment and imagined all her problems floating away. It would feel good.
Grace opened her eyes and looked at the young woman again. The scene changed slightly. The young woman began to age. Into middle age and then into a hunched old lady bending over her tapestry.
Is that what her life was like? Sitting on a chair and sewing while life passed by? Grace gave a little shake of her head, she had her worries but at least she was in control of her life, no matter how stressful it got sometimes.
The old woman suddenly stopped and closed her eyes. The figure vanished. A few seconds later the young woman reappeared, fresh faced and eager to do her sewing.
Grace smiled, the woman seemed content enough.
Grace jumped as Sylvester Sylver called out, “Sold! To Big Bob!”
She hadn’t realised that the bidding had started. She was glad Big Bob had won it. Perhaps she could visit his shop and speak to the Victorian woman, see what her life had really been like.
The next few units were of no use to Frankie. He told her they needed modern things, household goods, perhaps some jewellery or clothes.
“If we find antiques I can put them on the website,” he said. He pointed, “This locker’s no good, it’s full of war stuff. Can you see the army kit bags? And the helmets? Not for us. I hope we find something today, I want to fill our shelves up.”
A bitter sweet scene was being played out in the war locker. A group of soldier ghosts were lounging on their bags, some were reading letters, others were writing them. They hadn’t aged above the age of thirty.
They looked so young and full of hope. Grace turned away, she couldn’t bear to look at them.
The last locker was opened.
There were groans of disappointment as the bidders saw the contents.
Frankie pulled a face, “Looks like personal stuff, not even much in here. I can’t even tell what’s in those boxes. Never mind, we won’t always find the lockers that we want.”
Grace couldn’t take her eyes away from the locker. A ghost woman was sitting on the floor, she had an open notebook next to her. The woman was sobbing as if her heart were broken. The sobs bounced off the metal walls. The sound twisted Grace’s heart. She could feel the woman’s despair.
Grace said to Frankie, “Can we get this one? Please? You said you wanted jewellery and clothes, I can see some in those bags and boxes.”
Frankie peered closer. “So there is, I’ll bid but I’m not bidding much.”
“Thanks,” Grace said, not taking her eyes off the woman. She was itching to go into the locker and talk to her.
No one else was interested in the locker and Frankie got it for £20.
“I’ll pack the things into the van, you go and settle the bill,” Grace offered.
Frankie gave her a funny look. “You never offer to pack up. What’s going on? Do you want to try on that jewellery or something?”
“Something like that. Go before I change my mind,” Grace said and gave him a little push.
She waited until everyone had moved away. She stepped into the locker and walked over to the woman. She crouched down next to her and said, “Hello.”
The woman looked up in surprise. “You can see me?”
“I can. Are you okay? Well, obviously you’re not. Can I help you?”
The woman tried to smile. Grace could see the tears on her cheeks. She didn’t even know that ghosts could cry. “I don’t think anyone can help me, it’s too late to do anything now.”
Grace sat down on the floor. “I’ve helped people before who have ... passed away. If
you tell me what the problem is I might be able to help.”
The woman looked down at the notebook. “I don’t actually know what the problem is. I know it has something to do with my son, Andrew. Every time I think about him my heart feels like it’s being squeezed. I’m not sure why. I feel like there’s something I need to do, to help him in some way. This is his notebook, where he wrote his stories. There are more in these boxes.”
Grace looked over at the other boxes. “Are these Andrew’s belongings?”
The woman shook her head. “Most of them belong to me. I don’t know why they’re in here. I thought Andrew might have wanted to keep them. Do you really think you can help me?”
“I can try. My name’s Grace. I work at an antique shop, well, it’s more of a bits and pieces shop now.”
“I’m Marie Braithwaite. I used to work at a primary school until I,” Marie gave a small grimace, “passed away. Are you going to sell my things in your shop?”
“If we can find your son I could see if he wants them,” Grace said.
Marie smiled and opened her mouth to speak. She was interrupted.
“Grace! I knew you wouldn’t pack anything away! Are you talking to the walls?” Frankie walked into the locker.
Grace stood up. “I was just looking inside the boxes, seeing if anything heavy was in them.”
Frankie gave a snorting noise and picked up the nearest box. “Light as a feather. I don’t know why you wanted this locker, looks like a load of old rubbish to me.”
Grace looked down at Marie ready to mouth an apology. Marie wasn’t there.
Grace hoped that Marie would stay attached to her things as they took everything back to the shop. She had a strong urge to help her.
Chapter 4
Back at the shop Frankie insisted on helping Grace unpack the boxes.
“If I leave it up to you these boxes will still be here next month!” he said.
“I’m sure I can manage,” Grace said. She looked around the shop, Marie hadn’t materialised yet.
Frankie waved a hand in front of her face. “Hello! Earth to Grace. Are you with us?”
The Write Dream (Storage Ghosts) Page 1
