Ways to See a Ghost

making everything sound lonely. Along the top of the Downs is the Ridgeway, which is a track that’s been used since the Stone Age, so you’re walking where mammoth hunters used to, or King Arthur, or whoever.
    Normally I like it up on there, especially in spring, and we used to go loads, me and Dad. But there’s no way
anyone
could’ve enjoyed the walk that day. I mean, trailing after Dad and Cally while they held hands and face-sucked each other.
    It was disgusting.
    Dad wasn’t happy either. He kept checking back on me and Isis, like he was hoping we’d disappear. And Isis was her usual chatty self, meaning she said about two words the whole time. I don’t think she got outside much, because she walked round every puddle, like she was worried about getting her shoes muddy.
    Anyway, when we reached Hinner Wood, Dad had his brilliant idea. It’s only a little wood, and mostly beech trees. You know, with straight grey trunks, and bright green leaves above. But when you get in, it doesn’t matter it’s small. The trees all lift their branches way up, and the light flickers down through them. Every step is a crunch on last year’s leaves, and there’s something really… well just
something
about the trees. It makes you happy to be there.
    Dad and Cally were waiting at the edge of the woodland for me and Isis to catch up. He had his hand around Cally’s waist, her head was on his shoulder. She was gazing up at the trees, and going on.
    “You can really sense the natural spirits in places like this,” she gushed. “They’re more powerful where the land is untouched by humans.”
    “Actually,” I said, “people come and look after these woods.” There’s this conservation group, they come here loads. Tidy up rubbish, clear bracken or chop down trees they think are dangerous. I even joined a couple of years back, but they wouldn’t let me hold anything with a sharp edge ‘in case I hurt myself’, so I only went once.
    Of course, Cally ignored me.
    “The Native Americans understand,” she said, “and othertribal peoples. The spirits of plants and animals, of places even, are very powerful and wise. But we’ve lost touch with them in our modern, artificial world.”
    “I’m in touch with
my
nature,” said Dad in his smoochy voice, and she giggled and blushed. He turned to me. “And Gray is too. He’s a bird expert, aren’t you?”
    “No,” I said, because I knew what he was planning.
    “Yes, he is,” said Dad. “He’s got his own binoculars and he’s always reading birdwatching magazines. We used to come up here all the time. What was that bird you always wanted to see, but never could?”
    “I can’t remember.”
    I wasn’t going to help him out, and I wasn’t very happy about him saying all that anyway. Only a couple of my friends know I’m into wildlife, and I don’t want it getting out at school. Fast track to loser-land.
    Dad looked right at me.
    “I bet you could tell Isis all about these woods, while Cally and me sit on that bench over there.”
    Cally pulled away from him a bit, opened her mouth to speak. But he shook his head to stop her.
    “Don’t worry, Cal, if they stay in the fenced area they won’t ever be more than a few hundred metres from us.”He smiled at her. “I can get to them in a minute flat, whatever happens.”
    Cally soppy-smiled at him, then turned to Isis.
    “Would you like that, Isis?” she said. “Go and look at nature with Gray, while Gil and I…”
    Snog. Grope each other.
    Isis looked at her mum, then at me.
    “I’m going,” I said to Dad. “If I have to watch you two much longer, I’ll be sick.”

    I didn’t do any bird spotting. Not because I didn’t have my binoculars, but because it isn’t worth it in those woods. Thing is, there’s all these birds in the books, but you hardly see any of them normally. Around where we live they’ve all disappeared because of farmers using chemicals and getting rid of hedges and stuff. You have to go to nature reserves or other places like that to see anything decent. There was a big article about it in
Young Birdwatcher.
    Anyway, me and Isis were just walking. Mooching about, kicking leaves and waiting for Dad and Cally to finish.
    That’s when I told Isis. About Dad thinking Norman Welkin had been murdered. I thought I might as well, seeing as she was the one who found him. I told her howStu and Dad thought his death was strange, and had looked for other cases where people had got