The Ghost of Josiah Grimshaw

Chapter 4

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 going to 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 pleased 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 shouted 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 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, and 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 were? 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 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 is 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 just 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 eyeballing 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, rushing to her side as he helped her over to the little sofa in the kitchen corner.

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, feeling uncomfortable while rolling up her sweatshirt to reveal the inky pattern that was 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, gently touching her skin and 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.