Ways to See a Ghost

for her talent, obviously!” His pupils were wide and black, even though the day was bright. “For
you
, Isis. I invited Cally for you.”
    She pulled frantically, trying to get away from him, but he held on firmly, stopping her from standing up.
    “Shh,” he said, “you don’t need to be frightened.” Like a hunter calming his prey. “I could hardly believe it when I heard about you, so I invited your mother to join the society.”
    Heard?
    “Who told you about me?” Isis asked.
    Philip smiled, a little sly. “I have my means. Perhaps my spirit guide told me. And you’re such a clear psychic, the ghosts must flock to you!”
    “No,” said Isis.
    Philip looked smug. “You should probably thank me for that. They’re more respectful these days, and there aren’t the numbers there used to be.”
    She felt a shiver at the back of her neck, as if someonewere watching. But apart from Cally, there was no one else in the clearing, living or dead. Only the trees and the plumed tiers of ferns.
    “It was worse when I was your age,” said Philip. He frowned, remembering. “If I woke at night, they’d be around my bed. At school they blocked my view of the teachers.”
    Isis nodded, surprised by a shared understanding.
    “I did really badly,” said Philip, “left without passing any exams.”
    “It’s hard to concentrate,” said Isis, thinking of her problems in the Victorian parts of her school.
    “You know, don’t you?” Philip put his other hand over hers. “All the pressure, all the wanting. Filling up your life, creeping into your mind.” His voice cracked a little, he was struggling not to cry. “Imagine how much worse it was for me, when there were so many more.”
    “What happened to them?” Isis asked.
    Philip shook his head, not answering. And his next words were quick and aggressive. “It’s their own fault, if they insist on coming! And it’s
much
easier to hold things together when there are fewer ghosts to deal with.” His gaze shifted, pinning to her. “But I need to stop now,to rest. I’ve done my time, now it’s someone else’s turn.”
    You chatter.
She remembered the words, spoken long ago.
But I am hungry.
    A frightened prickle ran up Isis’s spine, lifting the hairs at the nape of her neck.
    “It was small at first, but it just kept growing,” Philip smiled at her. “You’re young and empty; you’ll be able to hold it, no problem. And it’s only fair, don’t you think? I’ve had it for twenty-five years, that’s a long time.”
    The leaves of the trees washed into purple, as if dipped in ink, and the sound of wings hushed in the air.
    “What will I be able to hold?” Isis asked, almost whispering.
    Philip smiled.
“You know
. Try to think of it as a friend, as your protector. It’s already extending over you, and soon…” He tapped her forehead. “It’ll fit right in. Plenty of room.”
    Isis gasped, her breath running ragged. “I don’t want it!”
    Philip tutted. “Well it’s all decided, so there’s no point fussing. I’m getting tired, and it needs someone new. I’m sure it’s looking forward to the move.”
    “I won’t! I’ll fight it!” She imagined the dark cloud pouring down into her head, grasping hold of her memories and pulling them apart with its fingers.
    “You have to take your
turn
!” snapped Philip. “Someonehas to keep the ghosts down, otherwise they multiply like vermin. It’s your go, I’ve done enough.”
    She shook her head desperately.
    “Selfish,” Philip muttered. “I put
my
life on hold, never did the things I wanted to. Do you think I wanted to be a stage psychic, and have ridiculous middle-aged women constantly asking me about the afterlife? I wanted to be a vet when I was your age.”
    Isis looked around, trying to see, straining to hear. But only the ferns in the clearing were whispering, speaking a breeze.
    Philip sighed. “All right, I didn’t want to say this, but you really are forcing me. I give personal seances, and one of my clients is a poor woman who lost her husband. Very good hypnotic subject, works in the council’s social services department. Well, last week she gave me your file, not that she remembers doing it.” He flicked a glance at Cally, lost in the false safety of her dreams. “You should see the letters your teachers have written about you. And the replies from social workers.” He looked at Isis. “Are you aware how close you are to being taken into care?”
    Isis glared