Ways to See a Ghost

what I meant; she’s only a child.”
    “I wasn’t much past her age when you sent it into me,” snapped Philip.
    “It was a mistake! I didn’t know what would happen, but you do.”
    “She’ll be
fine
,” said Philip. “Stop going on.”
    “It doesn’t have to be that way, she can save us…”
    “You just don’t get it, do you?” Philip’s voice rose into almost a screech. “I’ve been feeding it non-stop for twenty-fi ve years and it’s
still
hungry! I live in a slaughterhouse…” He stopped. Isis heard him sob. “I just need it out. And this way I know it will be gone.”
    “Please, give me one last chance to persuade her,” whispered Mandeville.
    “You said it yourself – she won’t even try. All she cares about is her dead sister and idiot mother.”
    Angel wriggled on Isis’s lap, wanting to scramble away. Isis held her tightly, putting a finger to her lips. They had to stay quiet and still until this was over.
    “Well maybe she’ll care about you too,” said Mandeville, “if we can make her understand.”
    “Like Norman did?” muttered Philip.
    There was silence, then Mandeville said quietly, “I didn’t realise how fixed his views were on the nature of ghosts.”
    Philip snorted. “He was a fool who had money.”
    “So he deserved it?”
    “You
said to make him understand! I tried, but he wouldn’t even listen to me! So I showed him what it’s like, I helped him to see it. That’s all. It wasn’t my fault what happened.”
    “It has a heart of ice. What did you think would occur if it wrapped itself around him?”
    “
I
don’t freeze. Maybe it’s different when it’s inside someone.” Philip paused. “But perhaps I should have fed it before I went to see Norman.”
    “And now you’ve taught it how to kill the living.”
    “No! It was an accident, he had a weak heart! The police said it was natural causes.”
    “Is anything ever your responsibility?” asked Mandeville.
    “Isis!” Angel whispered from her lap, her small arm pointing upwards. Overhead, the sky was sweeping into dark blue, night coming in too fast.
    What had she been thinking, following Philip out here? Gil and his lights were far away, Cally was even further, lost in a dream.
    “We have to get back,” Isis whispered to Angel. She pushed her ghost-sister off her lap, but when she tried to stand her legs were numb and stiff. Her first step was a stumble, her foot catching in the rough grass. She fell.
    “Owf!” The sound pushed out of her as she landed.
    “Who’s there?” said Philip.
    “He coming!” screamed Angel.
    Isis scrabbled to get up, but heavy footsteps were already pounding towards her. She looked back and saw Philip heading for her. She set off running, his footsteps getting closer and louder behind her. Then his hand grabbed her arm, wrenching her to a stop.
    “Isis.” Philip was breathing heavily. “You shouldn’t be out here. Anything might happen.”
    She tried to shake her arm free.
    “I don’t want it! You can’t make me!” she shouted, too terrified to think clearly, or give any excuse for what she’d been doing.
    Philip shook his head. “Everyone has to take shares, Isis.”
    “I don’t want it!” she cried again.
    Philip smiled kindly. “It won’t hurt.”
    Angel flung herself at him, hitting him with her two small hands. He looked down. “You can’t even make me shiver, little one.”
    Isis pulled her arm out of his grasp, staggering away from him. “Leave us alone!”
    Philip’s eyes were as black as an ocean. “I can’t, you see?” Above them, the darkening sky was cut by the shape of wings, so blue they could hardly be seen.
    Isis stumbled away from him, frightened and panicky. The smell of wheat and dusty grass filled her nose, the smell of mould and musty clothes.
    A dirty cloud swirled around them, and the dank figure of Mandeville appeared. A tall, bony ghost between Isis and Philip Syndal.
    “Leave her alone!” Mandeville roared, in a voice only they could hear. “I was wrong to bring it to you, but what you’re doing is much worse!”
    Philip frowned at the ghost. “You’ve no right to lecture me. You’re just another soul shaving, another nothing, whatever you tell yourself.” He looked over to the edge of the field. “Just another meal.”
    Philip held up his hand, signalling, and the night filled with the silent noise of beating wings.
    “She can save us! Let me tell her how—” Mandeville cried, but his words were