Ways to See a Ghost

two in the morning, filled with shouting blokes and a gang of dogs running after.
    Dad was showing Cally all the monitors, and the laptop and everything.
    “I’m really confident about my predictions now. I’m getting much better results than the early days. I found a link to fractional fluctuations in the electromagnetic field, and developed an algorithm that can predict the levels in advance…” He yakked on, and Cally picked up one of the EM field monitors, turning it upside down to look at it.
    “I think it’s wonderful, the work you’re doing,” she said. “Do you study patterns of ley lines too? I’m sureeverything’s connected with places where the earth’s energy is strong. The ancients knew that; Stonehenge isn’t that far away from here, is it?”
    “About twenty-five miles, I think,” said Dad, taking the monitor off her, recalibrating it and putting it back in place. If I’d picked it up like that, he would’ve really shouted at me. “But you’re right, there are some very unique electromagnetic fluctuations in this part of the country. We hardly know anything about it really. Most scientists won’t touch this kind of work, because the government always cuts funding for any research that shows the truth about aliens.”
    “It’s just the same with the spirit world,” said Cally. “All these so-called scientists, trying to discredit psychics. Phil says it’s because they’re frightened of what we know. Did you know he was investigated by one of the newspapers? They said he was conning people out of money, that he’s a charlatan. But actually, he never even charges for private readings. People just give him money, and he can’t help it if they want to give him thousands of pounds, can he?”
    They carried on like that for ages, agreeing with each other, standing a bit too close together. When I couldn’ttake any more, I walked over to my camp chair and bundled my stuff into it. Then I picked the whole lot up and started heading off down the track.
    “Hey, where are you going?” Dad called. I turned round, looking at him over the top of my gear.
    “I’m going that way,” I said.
    Dad glared, and put his arm around Cally. “Do what you want, Gray.”
    “I
will,
” I said, and started walking again. Fast, kicking up the dust. I didn’t stop, even though I’d got this really awkward grip on the chair and one of the hinges was digging right into my hand.
    Then I heard feet thumping after me, and I dropped the lot, ready to sort things out with Dad. But it wasn’t him, it was Isis. She was running after me with her garden chair and her rubbish sleeping bag, feet tripping on the pot-holey track.
    “Can I come too?” she said.
    I didn’t answer. She probably saw what I thought on my face.
    “Don’t go too far, Isis!” Cally called out to her, waving. “Keep where we can see you.”
    Me and Isis both looked back. Now Dad had his armsaround Cally’s waist, pulling her tight to him.
    “I can’t stay with
them
, can I?” said Isis.
    I sighed, then nodded. She had things worse than me, really. I could always get a break from them at Mum’s.
    We walked along the track into the twilight, until we got far enough away. Then we put down our chairs and got settled in. The sun dropped behind the horizon, the wheat stilled, and the only sound was a plane roaring at the far end of the sky. There weren’t any swallows or sky larks, not even any bats darting. You never see anything flying over those big fields, because there’s no insects for them to eat. There’s this birdwatcher who writes in
Wildlife Monthly,
and he says those massive fields should be called green deserts, because there’s nothing living in them but wheat.
    Anyway, me and Isis sat in our chairs, watching the world get darker and the stars get brighter. Me and Dad always used to talk through that time. Like, he’d ask me how things were going at school, or tell me about school when he was a kid. Talking about stuff was half the reason I went out with him, you know?
    It wasn’t the same with Isis, and we sat in silence for ages, hours probably. I got in my sleeping bag, she gotin hers. I played some games on my DS, she watched the stars. I was actually nearly falling asleep when she said quietly: “I’m sorry.”
    I twisted round in my chair. She was looking at her hands.
    “I’m sorry for laughing about your dad thinking it was aliens.” She fiddled her fingers together. “My mum’s weird