Travis simply smiled. ‘So it was you at the train station?’
Angeline thought hard for a few moments before answering ‘yes’.
‘What were you doing down there?’
She looked at Edgar, who nodded for her to continue. She lowered her voice. ‘We’ll only tell you if you promise not to blab to anyone else.’
Travis drew an X with his finger across his chest. ‘Cross my heart and hope to die.’
Angeline took a steadying breath. ‘A vortex was holding the stationmaster prisoner in her own booth, so we had to atomise it, which is a powerful method of sending it back through the wall between this world and the afterlife to make it stop causing trouble.’
Travis laughed. ‘What did you just say?’
‘We atomised a spectral presence that was causing distress to the stationmaster of Gravesend Railway Station,’ Edgar tried to explain.
Travis was impressed. ‘You blew up a ghost?’
‘Technically, it’s very different to blowing something up.’ Angeline shook her head.
‘Doesn’t sound like that to me.’
‘The Ghost Club carries out investigations of haunted sites, determining the cause of the hauntings, which sometimes results in the eradication of paranormal anomalies.’ Edgar stood firmly by his sister. ‘And we’re proud to be part of it.’
‘Except that whatever it is you just said, you’re not allowed to do anymore.’ Travis looked almost sorry for them.
‘For now.’ Angeline’s confidence dwindled at the reminder. ‘Just until we work something out. Don’t forget, you promised not to tell anyone. It tends to freak people out.’
‘Oh, and I would hate that.’
Angeline couldn’t tell if Travis was being sincere or if he was doing a very good imitation.
More heads poked around the corner so that quite a crowd had formed in the distance.
Travis stared at the twins, not moving, not giving anything away. The bell cut through the silence. ‘Better go. I don’t want to be late for assembly.’
The onlookers’ heads disappeared around the corner as Travis walked their way, his hands in his pockets like an innocent schoolboy on his way to start school.
Angeline felt her stomach lurch as if she had just fallen over the edge of a waterfall. ‘What have I done?’
Angeline felt as if she had to drag herself to the assembly area.
‘Sorry I told Travis what we do,’ she apologised to Edgar. ‘I got so angry when he started picking on Mum and Dad.’
‘I’m proud of you.’
‘For not being able to keep my big mouth shut?’
‘For standing up to Travis. You not only had a very articulate and feisty conversation with him, which in the past would have been almost impossible, you stared him in the eye and didn’t once look like backing down.’
‘While handing over information about the Ghost Club.’
‘It’s okay that he knows,’ Edgar said. ‘With all his snooping and questions, I don’t think we could have hidden it from him much longer.’
‘Do you think he’ll keep quiet?’
‘I’m trying as hard as I can to believe what he said, but I’d rather trust a stampeding herd of rhinos. At least that way I’d know what I was dealing with.’
During the last-minute scramble to get ready for assembly, Angeline and Edgar kept a close eye on Travis, who was approaching Ms Gently as she struggled with the portable speaker system.
‘Oh no.’ Angeline scowled. ‘He’s helping someone other than himself. Now I’m really nervous.’
Travis wheeled the speaker into place, plugged in the microphone and tapped it to check that it was working. At that instant, Ms Gently’s hand flew to her mouth like she’d forgotten something. She raced off towards the office, leaving the microphone in Travis’s hands. As soon as the door closed behind her, he stepped to the front of the podium.
‘Dear students, I have a special announcement to make.’ Kids and teachers looked up from their conversations. ‘An announcement I think you are going to find very interesting.’
Students nudged each other and began to quieten. Teachers shrugged their shoulders and looked questioningly at each other, confused about whether this was part of the morning’s planned proceedings.
‘I’d like to highlight the hidden talents of two students from this very school.’
His smile fell directly onto Angeline. A cold shiver ran through her body. She’d seen that look in Travis’s eyes before, and it never meant anything good.
‘He’s going to do it.’ She felt sick.
Travis smiled. ‘Angeline and Edgar Usher.’
Faces immediately turned toward them.
‘What do we do?’ Angeline asked her brother.
‘Hope for that herd of rhinos?’
By now the whole playground was listening.
‘You see,’ Travis strutted on the stage like a pop star, ‘when Angeline and Edgar aren’t at school, they’re not just playing soccer or learning judo or scrapbooking like normal kids.’ A small breeze began to stir around them. ‘They’re doing something much more interesting.’
‘Someone please make him stop,’ Angeline quietly pleaded to no one in particular.
The wind increased.
‘They are out in the middle of the night, long after you and I are in bed, scouring the streets of this town – and do you know why?’ He left a long enough pause for kids to shake their heads and lean forward intently.
‘They are searching for –’
Right at that second, as huge roar of wind drowned out Travis’s next words. It created swirls of dust and rubbish. Kids protected their eyes and covered their mouths as it grew stronger. Some were pushed into walls; others clung onto poles, railings or each other.
‘What’s going on?’ Angeline asked.
‘I’m not sure. Is it another vortex?’
‘It’s rare to get two so close together.’
The wind grew in strength, becoming more of a gale. Teachers grabbed the hands of the younger kids, folders of schoolwork fanned into the air, and schoolbags and lunch boxes were snatched from hands and sent skidding along the ground. Travis fell to his knees and clung to the portable speaker.
The door to the office area burst open. Principal Primm appeared with Ms Gently, ready to demand to know what was going on, but they instantly lost their footing and were slung against the building like dominos, toppling over in crumpled disarray.
The wind gathered force, howling and spinning around the yard until a miniature tornado formed in the centre. Everyone who was still standing grabbed netball poles, hid under benches or crouched and huddled in groups, whimpering and crying.
‘This is no regular windstorm.’ Angeline pulled her Tracker from her pocket and scanned the area. On her screen was a fierce red glow.
‘There’s a strong reading.’ Angeline looked up and pointed. ‘And it’s coming from there.’
In a window above the playground, in the Year Six classrooms, a curtain whisked in the wind like the tail of an angry cat. It moved aside long enough for them to see a young girl staring at the chaos below.
‘It’s her. You record the playground and I’ll film our ghost.’
They struggled to keep their Trackers steady as the tornado continued to gather force. An anguished cry wrenched the air, and they turned to see that Travis and the speaker he’d been holding had been forced from the podium. He was now lying on the ground, clutching his arm to his chest.
Almost immediately, the force of the gale softened.
The ghost held the curtain aside and stared directly at Angeline. Dwarfed by the window, she looked small, but after a few seconds Angeline realised her mouth was moving.
‘She’s trying to tell us s
omething.’
‘Keep recording. Endora may be able to increase the size of the image and decipher what she’s saying.’
Within seconds, the gust dwindled to a small, harmless breeze before calming completely.
Angeline watched the blur on her screen fade from a deep red glow to a dark, lingering black. ‘She’s gone.’
Edgar scanned the buildings and playground with his Tracker. ‘There’s no sign of her anywhere.’
Ms Gently and the other teachers quickly got to their feet and hurried to comfort the anxious children, wiping their eyes, patting grazed knees and soothing them with kind words. Others ran to get first aid kits and class rolls to make sure every student could be accounted for.
Principal Primm, however, did nothing of the sort. She lifted herself to her elbows and pushed her rumpled hair out of her face. She examined the chaos around her: fallen benches, upturned bins, schoolbags lying open, the odd shoe and flung jumper. Her eyes settled on Angeline and Edgar. She got to her feet, lifted her hand and, with one pointed finger, motioned for them to come to her.
The twins slipped their Trackers away and made their way over with heavy steps. ‘You wanted to see us, Principal Primm?’
She spoke softly through pursed lips. ‘Does this have anything to do with the ghost you believe was at the boarding school?’
Edgar nodded. ‘I’m afraid it does.’
‘It’s the same girl who appeared at the sleepover,’ Angeline whispered. ‘Only this time she’s even more upset.’
‘Which happens sometimes if the reason for their initial appearance isn’t addressed,’ her brother added.
Edgar’s words had done nothing to quell the horror on Principal Primm’s face. ‘So you think this may get worse?’
‘It can do, yes. If the spectral entity feels they’re being ignored or the cause of their grievance isn’t addressed.’
The principal looked around at the playground, at the cut knees and frightened, questioning faces of both her staff and students. She lowered her voice even further. ‘And you think by accessing those records you can find out who is causing the trouble and make her go away?’
Angeline nodded. ‘That’s how we work, yes.’
Principal Primm’s skirt was twisted and her stockings laddered and torn. ‘You can have anything you need, just get this ghost out of my school before it ruins us all.’
‘That’s her.’ Endora held the magnifying glass above the sepia-coloured photo of boarders from Gravesend College. ‘From the vision you recorded in the boarding school and this morning at assembly, this class photo confirms that our ghost is Bridie Wallace.’
Angeline, Edgar and Dylan took a closer look.
The girls in the photo wore dark dresses that fell in heavy folds to their feet and rose to their necks with high, strangulating collars. Their hair was pulled back in either tight buns or ponytails, and they stood rigid and unsmiling. ‘They look so serious,’ Angeline said.
‘It was known to be a very strict school.’ Endora looked at the ledgers and files beside her. ‘And from these records, you didn’t have to do much to receive a punishment. The girls could be locked in a small broom cupboard or even caned for the smallest transgressions: not curtsying low enough to the headmistress, not making their beds to the strictest requirements and not finishing every morsel of food on their plates.’
‘They caned them?’
Endora nodded. ‘Unfortunately, it was often the preferred method of punishment in those times.’
‘Was Bridie ever in trouble?’ Dylan asked.
‘It seems she was, quite a lot. There’s a report here from one of her teachers who wrote that Bridie would probably never be well-behaved because she didn’t have a father to teach her discipline.’
Angeline crossed her arms in a huff. ‘Maybe she never learnt to behave well because she was locked in a cupboard for not eating all her peas. At least she had the holidays to look forward to when she could go home.’
‘She never went home.’
‘Ever?’
Endora searched through some more paperwork. ‘It says here that Bridie lost her parents in a car accident when she was only seven. She inherited enough money to cover her education at Gravesend College, which became her home and was one of the most prestigious schools at the time.’
‘If you didn’t mind a little corporal punishment,’ Angeline scowled.
‘Do you think she’s come back because she’s unhappy about how she was treated?’ Dylan asked.
‘Maybe,’ Edgar said. ‘But why now? We first saw her at the school sleepover, which happens every year, and Principal Primm said there’s never been a reported sighting before. Something must have changed that’s bothering her, or maybe she needs to pass on a message.’
‘Were you able to work out what she was saying at the window?’ Angeline asked Endora.
‘I’m afraid not – the image was too small – but it did seem as if there was an urgency in what she had to say.’
‘Well, something is making her very sad,’ Angeline said.
‘Very good!’ Endora clapped her gloved hands before reconsidering. ‘Oh, not about Bridie being sad but that you are thinking of clues. So what we need to do is find out why she was so sad and what has brought her back now?’
‘Great,’ Dylan said. ‘That means spending time at the haunted school, right?’
‘Not yet,’ Endora answered. ‘There is one person we still need to learn more about.’
‘Robert Thompson,’ Edgar suggested.
‘Precisely.’
Endora called up the image of a small, elderly woman with grey, curly hair on her computer. ‘This is Elsie Graham, the great-niece and last surviving relative of Robert Thompson in Gravesend. Her address has been sent to your Trackers.’
Endora handed them their Ghost Club satchels. ‘Grandma Rose organised your ghost-catching equipment, just in case.’
‘Just in case what?’ Dylan asked. ‘Elsie’s alive, isn’t she?’
‘Very much so,’ Endora said, ‘but those Scouts had it right when they said it was better to be prepared.’
‘For what?’
Angeline shrugged. ‘We’ll find out when we get there. The mystery is part of the fun, don’t you think?’
No, he didn’t, but Angeline’s enthusiasm made it seem a whole lot more fun than Dylan knew it would be. ‘So we just walk into this little old lady’s house and tell her we’re investigating ghosts?’
‘That would be the perfectly honest way, but that can upset people. In this instance, your cover story is that you are doing a research project for school on local soldiers involved in World War I, and you would like to know more about her great-uncle. Let’s hope she can shed some light on who Mr Thompson was and what that may have to do with the appearance of Bridie Wallace’s ghost.’
That afternoon, the three ghost-catchers met at the Usher family home and rode their bikes to Elsie Graham’s house. It was a small, modest home with bright swaying roses in the garden, a white picket fence and a gavel path leading to a welcome mat by the front door.
Angeline pressed the doorbell. Shuffling feet approached from inside and the door opened slowly, revealing a small-framed woman in a fuzzy woollen cardigan with slippers on her feet. Her hair was dyed purple and snuggled around her head in small curls.
‘Are you the young people with the history project?’
‘I’m Angeline, this is my brother, Edgar, and our friend Dylan. I hope we’re not disturbing you, Mrs Graham.’
‘You will be if you keep calling me Mrs Graham. My name’s Elsie, and you’re not disturbing me at all.’ She opened the latch on the screen door. ‘It’s not often I get visitors – and ones so young! Please come in.’ She led them down a hallway and into a sunlit sitting room with cakes and
tea laid out on a coffee table. ‘My doctor says I shouldn’t eat sweets, but I think he’s no fun, so we’re even, and he hasn’t tried my chocolate chip cookies and vanilla slices. Besides, it’d be rude not to offer guests a treat when they visit, don’t you think?’ She sank onto a lounge and pulled a shawl over her knees. Beside her was another small table with her own portion of sweets and tea. ‘Please, help yourselves.’
They each took a biscuit and a cup of tea and sat on a lounge opposite.
‘So you’re here to talk about Great-Uncle Robert?’ Elsie asked.
‘We’re doing research on soldiers from the local area who were involved in the war,’ Edgar said, ‘and we believe Mr Thompson was sent to fight overseas.’
‘He enlisted in the army in 1915 when he was twenty-three. He thought it was his duty as a fit, young man to serve his country. All his friends signed up too. It was something you did back then – you volunteered with your mates to have an adventure of a lifetime. Except it turned out to be an adventure none of them could have expected.’
‘What can you tell us about him?’ Angeline asked.
‘I never met Uncle Robert, of course, but his sister, my Grandmother Ada, told me he was a sweet, generous kid who always thought of other people before himself. He was popular and well-liked by the whole town.’ She smiled. ‘Especially a lot of the girls. Many of them would have gladly been his sweetheart, but he only had eyes for Mary Wilkins. They were going to get married when he returned.’
‘And did they?’ Angeline asked.
Elsie lowered her teacup onto her saucer. ‘Grandmother said that after Robert returned from the war he was a different person. He’d always been outgoing and friendly, but now he was quiet and moody. He and Mary drifted apart and she married someone else.’
‘What did he do for work?’ Edgar asked.
‘Ah, that’s a tricky one and something that upset my grandmother very much. Robert came home before the end of the war because he had shrapnel lodged in his leg. Others weren’t so lucky and never made it home alive. People saw that he could walk and still had all his limbs, and they began judging him unfairly, saying he should have been over there, still doing his bit, like their sons had done. He was made to feel unwelcome in his own town. It broke my grandma’s heart to see it happen. He did finally get a job at one of the local schools, but that didn’t end well.’
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