“Ewww, imagine carrying a picture of Billy around! Gross!”Tamsin singsongs and Alice sniggers, even as Billy turns beet-red and starts yelling in protest.
“Are you going to marry your brother, Mina?”
“Do you put the picture under your pillow at night?”
That heat in me kindles, flames.
“I wouldn’t even wipe myarsewith Billy’s photo.”
“Hey!”
“He’s dead,” I say, flatly. The words fall out of my mouth like old stones. Silence falls heavily, and all eyes turn on me. I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean to shock them. I’m just flustered. I’m not used to this noise, this press of bodies so close together, the smell of them, sour sweat and hot breath, suntan lotion. There’s something else, too, a darker odor. Riper. It has a tang like old pennies. I’m not used to people talking over each other, biting off the ends of each other’s sentences. It’s just me and Oscar at home. “He died a long time ago. Nearly six years now.”
“How old was he?” Tamsin says.
“Fourteen.”
Gazes swivel toward Alice. It’s jarring when you realize death doesn’t just come for the aged or the sick. Alice shifts in her seat but doesn’t look up. Her shoulders are sunburned, her nose and forehead turning a raw, burnished red. There is a ringing in my ears like static.
“I’m sorry, Mina. Your parents must have been heartbroken,” Lisa says.
“They were. They are. Still, I mean.” I notice Billy looking up at me with sad, round eyes. I force myself to smile. “Long time ago now. All in the past.”
Paul’s eyes are bright, hot coals sunk into snow. He points at Alice.
“She’s had to leave that school, you know. We couldn’t keep sending her in, not how she was. Talking gibberish, fainting in the toilets. That’s not right, is it? She needs to be out with her friends, like I was at that age.”
“Paul—” Lisa begins gently, but he shrugs her off, turning back to me.
“You reckon you can help her, then, do you?”
“I’ll do my best,” I tell him. He snorts, balling the fish-and-chip paper up in his hands.
“Well, I hope so. You look clever. Doesn’t she look clever, Lisa? Could’ve sent us someone with a bit more on top, Sam, though, eh?”
As he cups his hands at the front of his chest and laughs, I flush, heat staining my skin a bright pink. Lisa tuts and glares at Paul.
“Ignore him,” she tells me. “He was hoping you’d look like Sam Fox.”
“She knows I’m only joking. Don’t you?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. He crosses his arms and looks at Sam. “Doyouthink we’re lying an’ all?”
“It’s irrelevant what Ithink. The Heraldhave sent me to find proof of a haunting, they don’t want my opinion.”
“But you must think it’s a possibility, or you wouldn’t have come back,” Lisa says, her voice tremulous, hopeful. The room suddenly seems very quiet, very hot. Suffocating, almost. Through the back door the yard is dusky with a shimmering heat.
“I’m trying to keep an open mind, Lisa.”
Paul looks at me, then back to Sam again, his lip slightly curled as if in distaste.
“You know I remember a while back reading about thatpoltergeist in Enfield. That family had a whole team of ghost-hunters and experts come in to investigate the story. It was national news.”
Sam laughs again. “Well, I’m afraid you’re just stuck with me and Mina for now. If we find real evidence—that is, if we can establish an active haunting—you’ll be in a better position to get the help you need.”
Paul leans forward hungrily, elbows on the table. “What kind of help?”
Sam shrugs. “In the very worst case scenario, I’ve heard of people having the place exorcised or being moved from their homes.”
“Dad—” Alice says, but Paul holds up his hand.