Ways to See a Ghost

hadn’t been in the car with them either; she’d barely been in their flat. Angel still spent most of the time inside the sofa.Hiding or hurt, Isis wasn’t sure which.
    “Please, just let me see you,” Isis had whispered into the cushions.
    “No! I not coming out,” was the only reply.
    Isis had watched a whole morning of
In the
Night Garden
, and asked Cally if they could make a cake. Nothing would tempt Angel out of the upholstery, but then, after what had happened at the shopping centre… Isis wished she had a sofa she could hide inside as well.
    She followed after Cally, pushing past the thin stems of a straggling bush.
    “Are you sure this is the way?” she said. “It’s a bit overgrown.”
    Cally paused next to the gnarled trunk of an ancient tree. Its canopy spread above them, a roof of dusty-dark leaves.
    “We’ll be there soon,” she said, “and then you’ll see.”
    “See what?” asked Isis, but Cally just started walking again.
    A bit further on, they passed into a patch of sunlight, a clearing created by the falling of another tree. Its rotten trunk lay shattered on the ground, covered in earlike fungi, only a dead, jagged spike of wood marking where ithad stood. The corpse was surrounded by green-spray ferns and young saplings – new trees growing out of the leaf mould.
    Cally paused next to the stump, taking in a deep breath and tilting her head back a little.
    “Shut your eyes,” she said. “Just listen.”
    Isis frowned, watching Cally breathe herself into the peace of the sun-dappled woods. A breeze rustled the leaves, and a hidden bird sang a short, repeating song.
    “Isn’t it wonderful?” sighed Cally. “Doesn’t it make you feel calm?”
    But Isis felt too scratched inside to be calm. If she closed her eyes she might see dark blue filled with faces, a shadow pouring into Philip Syndal’s head, Angel screaming for help, or impossible birds flying into the night.
    Cally opened her eyes and saw Isis’s frown.
    “Oh, Isis,” she said.
    Isis walked past, taking the path out of the clearing. “When can we go home?”
    “We have to get there first,” snapped Cally.
    “Where is there?” cried Isis. “Why are we even here?”
    These woods, this walk Cally had insisted on. Not asking Isis, more like threatening and cajoling, all morninglong, until at last she’d given in just to keep the peace. Staring silently out of the car window as Cally drove them into the countryside.
    Now, in the clearing, Cally seemed to be studying Isis.
    “You’ve been so… odd, lately,” she said. “Won’t you tell me what’s the matter?”
    Isis sighed. “The doctor said. It was just a bit of heatstroke.”
    “I don’t mean that,” said Cally. “You’re so distant… You’ve changed so much recently.” Her eyes glistened, tearful, and her voice was croaky. “You were always the one I could rely on, Isis. When I was on the edge, it was having you that kept me sane. You do know that, don’t you?”
    Isis nodded, her throat felt full and fat.
    Cally brushed her hair back from her face. “So why are you… like this? Are you angry about something? Or scared? I can’t help you, if you won’t tell me what it is.”
    A bird flew over their heads, wings swishing in the air. If Gray had been here, he could’ve told them what kind it was. Isis didn’t have a clue, but she still felt the ache of feathers she didn’t have. She wanted to leap upwards, and join it in flight.
    She shook her head a little, trying to clear her thoughts.
    “Oh, Isis,” said Cally. “Please.”
    And suddenly she wanted to tell her. Like on telly, when girls tell their mums their problems. The words were on her tongue, she was already speaking them in her mind. The ghosts, the night in the field, the creature in the mall, Angel…
    Her heart went still. Not Angel. Telling about Angel would smash the bit of happiness they’d reached these last months, and if she left out the little ghost, how could she tell the rest?
    Cally sighed. “Do you know what Grandma Janet thinks? She told me you’re turning into a teenager, and I should expect you to be horrible for the next five years.”
    Isis laughed. “That sounds like Grandma.”
    Cally answered with a small, hesitant smile.
    “I’m fine, Cally,” said Isis. “Really I am.”
    Cally’s smile pinched off. “When did you stop calling me Mum?”
    Isis shrugged, it had been years ago.
    “I know how hard it’s been for you,” said Cally.