Freaks Out! (9 page)

“S'pose it's not Skye's gran?”

“Well, then I'll ask if they can find her for us. They're bound to all know each other. I'd say, ‘Have
you met a lady called Mrs Samuels who arrived just recently?'” I felt Skye's hand quiver in mine. “If your gran's there,” I said, “I bet she'd be really pleased to know you're thinking about her.”

Skye didn't say anything, just nodded.

“It's not going to upset you, is it?” said Jem. “I don't think we ought to do it if it's going to upset you!”

“Just get on with it,” muttered Skye.

I began my chant: “
Alakazam, alakazoo
…”

The others joined in. We all swayed slightly to the rhythm.

“
Alakazam, alakazoo
…”

It was all going fine until Jem had to cry out and break the spell.

“I don't like this!” she wailed. “It's spooky!”

Skye told her somewhat sharply to be quiet. I was more than a little annoyed with her myself. I'd been starting to have these excited tinglings all up and down my spine, which made me think there must be spirits somewhere close by. Now Jem had
probably gone and frightened them off.

“Start again,” said Skye. “And, you!” She thumped Jem's hand on the table. “Don't interrupt!”

We resumed our chanting. “
Alakazam, alakazoo
…”

The tingles went trickling again down my spine. It felt like little ghost fingers tapping on my bones. I definitely had this feeling that we were not alone. Something was out there!

A wave of psychic power washed over me.

“Spirits, speak! We're looking for Skye's gran. Her name is Mrs Samuels. She's out there somewhere. Please, if you know her, ask her to come down!”

There was a silence. And then I heard it… a faint whiffle, like the breathing of a ghostly creature. Skye's fingers dug hard into mine. Jem made a little choking sound.

“Spirits,” I cried, “answer!”

We held our breath. The whiffling came again, followed by a long, mournful moaning. Jem screeched and tore her hand out of mine. I felt Skye tremble.
She pointed, with quivering finger. I turned to look. A dark and hideous shape was slowly rising out of the gloom.

Jem screeched again. She sprang to her feet and tore across the room, screaming as she went. We heard her feet thudding down the stairs. Me and Skye clung to each other, paralysed with fear as the shape came towards us.

“What is it?” whispered Skye.

We watched in frozen horror as the dark shape moved towards us. Suddenly, with a bound, it was on the table. Skye gave a terrified “Eek!” and fell backwards. I tried to scream, but nothing happened. And then I felt it. Something rough and prickly brushing against me. With a strangulated yelp, I tore across the room and switched on the light.

“
Rags!
”

He stood there on the table, sheepishly wagging, the slice of bread clamped between his jaws. I
hadn't the heart to take it off him. I was just so relieved he wasn't an evil spirit!

Skye, rather crossly, picked herself up. “I told you he shouldn't be in here!”

To be honest, I'd forgotten all about him. He had obviously been curled up under the duvet. He would probably have stayed there quite happily if it hadn't been for the lure of the bread. I said this to Skye, but she just harrumphed and said again that she had told me so.

“He should have been shut out. You can't have a proper seance with a dog in the room! Not one like him, anyway.”

We both looked across at Rags, chomping on his bread.

“We can always get some more,” I said.

“Yes, and next time maybe you'll listen to me!”

I do so hate it when people keep on. I mean, what is the point? It's hardly very helpful.

“We'd better go and find Jem,” I said, “before she screams the place down.”

Jem was in the sitting room with Tom and – omigod!
Angel.
Jem was burbling and flapping her arms about.

“What's going on?” said Angel. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing,” I said. It is my standard reply. Whenever Angel wants to know what I've been up to, I always say “Nothing”. Sometimes I get away with it; sometimes I don't. I knew today I wouldn't. Not with Jem gibbering and carrying on.

“So why is she in this state?” said Angel. Her eyes narrowed. “I hope you haven't been doing anything stupid? I'm responsible for you when Mum and Dad are out!”

Really? First I'd heard of it.

“I thought he was,” I said, pointing at Tom.

“Only if I'm not here.”

“Which you weren't,” I said.

“Well, I am now.”

Unfortunately.

“Look!
You.
” Angel poked a finger at Jem. “Just
stop thrashing around!” Angel was starting to sound exasperated. Jem can get to you like that. “I demand to know what you've been up to!”

“It's all right.” Skye stepped in, very calm and collected. “We thought we saw a ghost, that's all.”

“Dude!” Tom sprang up, excited. “What sort of ghost? Headless?”

Quickly, before Jem could start wailing, I said, “It wasn't a ghost, it was Rags. He was under the duvet and we didn't know he was there.”

“He rose up,” said Skye, “in the darkness.”

Angel pounced. “What darkness?” Her nostrils flared, like she sensed she was on to something. “You've been doing things!” she said. “All that weird stuff you were asking about… you've been doing it!”

Tom cried, “Whoa!”

“You be quiet,” snapped Angel. “You were supposed to be keeping an eye on them!”

“He was,” I said, “until you came in.”

“Just as well I did come in. People practising black
magic all over the place!”

Jem gave a howl.

“Now see what you've done!” screamed Angel.

I said, “
Me?
I haven't done anything!”

“You've gone and set her off again!”

“That was
you
,” I said, “going on about black magic. I don't know why you're making all this fuss. All it was, was just an ordinary little seance, same as anybody might have. Nothing
black
about it! We just wanted to talk to S—”

“Oh, SHUT UP!” roared Angel. “Wittering on! Can't you see she's in shock?”

We all turned to stare at Jem. She'd quietened down for a few seconds, but on hearing that she was in shock, she immediately started up again.

“This is cool,” said Tom.

I thought for a minute that Angel was going to have some kind of fit. Like her head was going to burst open and her brains come spilling out.

“Just stop it, stop it!” she shouted. “Stop
making all this noise!
You.
” She gave me a shove. “Get her into the kitchen!”

“What for?”

“Just do it!” bawled Angel. She was making more noise than anyone, but it seemed unwise to cross her. Between us, me and Skye hauled Jem to her feet.

“What's in the kitchen?” said Skye.

“Tea,” said Angel.

Jem gave a smothered shriek.

“She doesn't drink tea,” I said. “She doesn't like it.”

“You'd rather she died of shock?”

Jem stared, her eyes like satellite dishes. “I'm going to
die
?”

Honestly! She is such a drama queen.

I said, “This is stupid! It was only
Rags.
”

“Rising up,” said Tom, “in the darkness…
whoo hah
!” He waggled his hands above his head. Jem gave a short sharp scream.

“Will everybody just stop PANICKING!” roared Angel. “Get her out there!”

We practically had to drag Jem through to the kitchen. She was now convinced that her last hour had come, and Tom didn't help, making his stupid hooting noises. We watched as Angel viciously smashed a tea bag in a mug of boiling water and dumped about half a kilo of sugar on top of it.

“There!” She thrust the mug at Jem, who shrank back piteously, moaning that sugar wasn't good for you.

“Just drink it!” snarled Angel. “I'm not going to be held responsible for you collapsing.”

I was sort of impressed in spite of myself. I mean, it was totally ridiculous, but who would have thought Angel could be so ruthlessly efficient in a crisis? Not that it
was
a crisis, except in her own mind, and now, probably, in Jem's. Left to ourselves, me and Skye would have snapped Jem out of it in no time. Angel claimed later that she had “risen to the occasion”.

“Just as well
one
of us managed to keep her head.”

We all watched with interest as Jem, blubbering to herself, noisily slurped down the tea. I wondered if she would be sick. That is her normal trick when forced to swallow something she doesn't want. She used to throw up regularly at primary school, but Angel had obviously scared her, cos the tea stayed down.

“I don't want to die!” she whimpered.

I said, “You weren't ever going to die. Nothing happened!”

“Will you
please
keep quiet?” said Angel. “I'm doing my best to administer a bit of first aid!”

“So now you've administered it,” I said, “we could go back upstairs.”

Angel seemed reluctant to let us leave. It was like she'd got herself into a position of power and was determined to hang on to it as long as possible.

“It'd probably be safer if you stayed down here for a bit.”

“We don't want to stay down here!” Apart from anything else, Mum and Dad could come back at
any minute. I had this feeling Mum might not be too pleased if she discovered about the seance. But then she might not be too pleased with Angel, either. After all, she was the one that had told me about seances. I hadn't even known what they were called until I asked her.

Cunningly, I said, “When are Mum and Dad due back?”

I saw Angel's eyes flicker towards the kitchen clock.

“We'd have to tell them what happened,” I said. “Then Mum would want to know how I'd found out about seances and I'd have to say that you told me.”

Angel was indignant. “I did no such thing!”

“You told me how to spell it.”

“So what? I didn't tell you to go and do it!”

“You should have checked,” I said. “We're only young, we're not responsible.”

Angel's face turned a sort of mottled beetroot.

“You are an utterly repulsive child,” she said. “I don't wish to have anything more to do with you!”

I said, “Good. So we can go back upstairs.”

“Go and see if there are any more ghosts,” said Tom. “
Whoo-aaah!
”

He is not usually that silly. As a rule it is difficult to get him to say anything at all.

“Have you been at Dad's whisky?” I said.

Tom looked hurt. “I don't touch whisky, I'm a teetotaller!”

Jem giggled, in a slightly mad fashion.

“She's gone and overdosed on sugar,” said Tom.

We managed at last to get back upstairs. It wasn't till we were safely in my bedroom that Skye, with an air of guilty triumph, slid her hand up her sweater and produced a slice of bread.

“I took it from the bread bin,” she said. She smiled, hopefully. “I thought we could… you know! Try again?”

If it had been up to me I'd have said no problem. Go for it! But that is just me. I suppose I am a bit bold. Plus I felt really sorry for Skye. In spite of reckoning it was all rubbish, she was obviously desperate to
have another go. But Jem was already starting to look apprehensive.

“We're not doing it
again
?”

Skye's face fell. “I thought you wanted to help me find Gran's pencil?”

“I do,” said Jem, “I do! But I don't want to do a seance again!”

“Don't worry,” I said. “I've got loads of ideas. I'll think of something!”

 

Over the weekend, Angel kept glowering at me and Tom kept flapping his hands and going “
Whoo haah!
” in this silly, high flutey voice. Mum looked at him in surprise.

“I think he's going senile,” I said. “Either that or he's been at the whisky.”

Mum said, “Tom?”

“I told you,” said Tom, “I'm a teetotaller.”

“So what's with all the whooing and hahing?” said Mum.

Tom sent me this sly glance. “We reckon there's
a ghost in the house.”

“Rubbish,” said Mum. “Total nonsense!”

I was glad that Mum was so sensible and down to earth. It would have been awkward if she'd asked questions. I really thought I'd got away with it.

 

But then, on Monday morning…

“I've been having nightmares,” said Jem. “All weekend!”

She announced it proudly, like it was some sort of special accomplishment. Like she'd won a competition or got an A for her maths homework.

“I woke up
screaming
,” she said. “Mum came rushing in thinking I was being murdered!”

“But nothing happened,” I said. “Why are you having nightmares all about nothing?”

“It was scary,” said Jem. She tossed her head, defiantly. “Anyone says it wasn't, they're a liar!”

I was prepared to admit that maybe, just for a few seconds, it had been scary. “But not once we'd discovered what it was.”

“
Rags
,” said Skye. She still sounded bitter. “I told you he shouldn't have been there.”

Omigod! She was still going on.

“Look, I'm sorry,” I said, “it was the bread. It won't happen again. All I'm saying, there isn't any reason for nightmares when all it was was just one poor little innocent dog trying to get something to eat. OK?”

Jem pursed her lips. She was wearing her stubborn expression; the one that means she's not going to listen to a word you say.

“Could just as easily have been something else.”

“But it
wasn't
.”

“Still could have been.”

Me and Skye exchanged glances. Skye shook her head. Jem can be just
so
illogical at times, there is no conducting any sort of rational conversation with her.

“It's very dangerous,” she said, “getting in touch with spirits. You never know what's going to turn up. There's all sorts of evil out there.”

I didn't quite know what to say to that. Skye muttered, “That's just a load of rubbish.”

“It's not! It's not rubbish!” Jem assured us of it, earnestly. “There's good spirits and bad spirits and you meddle at your peril!”

Excuse me? This was our friend Jem speaking? Even Skye seemed a bit taken aback.

“I told Mum,” said Jem, “and sh—”

“You told your mum?” I stared at her, horrified.

“I had to! She wanted to know what my nightmare was about.”

“What
was
it about?” said Skye. “As a matter of interest?”

“Horrible black shapes all flapping and moaning. Mum says we're too young to hold seances; she says we'll upset ourselves.”

I said, “I didn't upset myself.”

“That's cos you have no imagination,” said Jem.

What cheek! I have a
huge
imagination. I am always imagining things. I am just not morbid like Jem.

“Did your mum say anything else?” I said.

“Just that Angel did the right thing making me drink hot tea.”

“She didn't say anything about telling my mum?”

Jem said no, but I had this uneasy feeling. Mums talk! They gossip. They bump into each other in supermarkets and stand for hours grumbling on about their children and how they've cut holes in their bedroom carpets or burned down the garden shed or gone and held seances when they'd been expressly told not to.

I sighed. I could already feel a lecture coming on.

 

Sure enough, Mum was waiting for me when I got home that afternoon. She said, “Jem's mum came round today.”

I said, “
Oh?
”

“She wanted me to run up some curtains for her.”

“Oh.”

“She was telling me,” said Mum, “how Jemma's
been having nightmares.”

I said, “Jem's always having nightmares. She's got this really morbid streak.”