Ghost of a Chance (5 page)

Sunday, 19 December, evening

They went back to Spray Cottage without speaking. Angus walked next to E.D., rubbing his shoulders. Despite putting his clothes back on the moment he’d got out of the water, E.D. was shivering. Gabby walked on his other side, taking small peeks at him. She couldn’t stop thinking of how patiently he’d worked on the netting until the seal was free, and how strong he was to tread water all that time.

As they walked into the foyer, Mrs Dalrymple called to them. ‘Hello. A message for you from Angelo at the fish and chip shop. He says there’s a fax for you.’ She eyed E.D.’s wet hair. ‘Bit cold for a swim, dear?’

‘It was only cold after I got out,’ E.D. said through chattering teeth.

‘Oh.’ Mrs Dalrymple looked at him, puzzled. ‘Are you training too?’ E.D. nodded.

‘Go and have a shower, E.D.,’ Angus said. ‘Then we’ll go down to the fish and chip shop.’

‘Do you mind if I don’t come with you?’ Ling stood with her arms folded, as if she was hugging herself. ‘I think I’ll just go and rest until dinner. I sort of don’t feel well.’

‘Ling, you haven’t been well since we got here.’ Gabby put her arm around her cousin. ‘I think we’d better tell Mrs Dalrymple.’

‘No.’ Ling shook her head vigorously. ‘I’m not sick. I mean, I’m not sick in my body. It’s just…’ She looked at Angus.

‘It’s something else, isn’t it?’

Ling nodded.

‘Well, okay, then.’ Gabby steered Ling towards the stairs. ‘We’ll go up to our room and I’ll look after you.’

‘I’ll only be a minute and I’ll be back down,’ E.D. said to Angus. He sprinted up the stairs ahead of the girls.

Angus and Hannah waited on the front steps. The wind was still ferocious but they were sheltered where they sat. Hannah looked up at the lighthouse. Against the fading light, it
looked like a tall rock, dark and forbidding. ‘We didn’t get much of a go at the lighthouse,’ she said.

‘We’ll go back there another time,’ Angus said. ‘Maybe we can get in to have a proper look.’

‘Ready.’ E.D. suddenly appeared behind them. His face was bright red, as if he had run a mini-marathon. He saw them staring. ‘Hot shower. I mean,
really
hot. Now I know what a lobster feels like.’

‘Come on, then, before we miss out on dinner.’ Angus stood up and started the short walk into town.

The fish and chip shop was lit with an array of coloured lighting. A small Christmas tree was in the window, decorated with tiny flashing bulbs. When E.D. pushed the door open, a bell tinkled merrily. Mira stood behind the counter, swiftly wrapping up some steaming chips for a customer. She glanced at E.D., frowned and dumped the parcel into the waiting man’s hand. Then she walked angrily through the door into the kitchen.

‘Hello, kids.’ Angelo turned from the cookers, his forehead beaded with perspiration.

‘Ciao,’ said E.D.

‘Oh,’ said Angelo, wiping his hands on his striped apron. ‘You had a fax today.’ He nodded towards the fax machine on the far corner of the counter. ‘It was addressed to Hannah Williams at Sprung Cottage but I knew what it meant.’

‘It’s from my brother,’ Hannah explained. She put her hand behind her back and crossed her fingers. ‘He wanted me to help him write his letter to Santa. I didn’t get time to help him before we left.’

‘Well, that’s nice, helping the bambino. You are a good sister. He is a lucky brother.’ Angelo gave Hannah a broad smile that made her turn red. ‘I will go and get the paper. Mira has taken it.’ He disappeared through the door.

‘Letter to Santa?’ E.D. laughed at Hannah. ‘Couldn’t you think of anything better than that?’

‘Well, I could hardly say homework, could I? It’s the holidays!’

‘It’s okay, Han,’ said Angus. ‘Shut up, E.D.’

‘I’m only thinking of the bambino and what a nice sister he has.’ E.D. ducked as Hannah took a swipe at him.

They stood waiting for what seemed like an age. The cookers sizzled and the Christmas lights
winked on and off but still Angelo didn’t appear. Hannah heard loud talking in the kitchen—talking that quickly turned into shouting. She looked at Angus and E.D. Angus shrugged but E.D. walked to the counter and started listening intently. The heated conversation seemed to be in Italian.

Suddenly, Mira burst into the café, Angelo following her closely. ‘You kids,’ she said loudly, shaking her finger at them. ‘You all need to keep away from the island, eh? Too sad. It’s bad out there, a bad place. It is cursed!’

‘Mira,’ said Angelo gently, ‘they’re only children. They aren’t doing anything wrong.’

Mira turned to him, but instead of the torrent of words Hannah was expecting, she started coughing. Angelo rubbed her back, murmuring comforting words to his wife. He looked up at E.D. and shook his head. ‘Mira is not well,’ he said. ‘She has never been well. Not since…’ A renewed burst of coughing interrupted his speech. Angelo kept rubbing until Mira had the cough under control and could straighten up again.

She stared at them. Hannah looked hard at the woman’s red face and streaming eyes and had the sudden thought that Mira wasn’t much
older than her mum. Her hair was still black and curly, but Mira’s sad face with its hollow eyes made her seem a lot older. ‘Are you alright?’ Hannah asked.

Mira nodded. ‘Yes.’ She stepped away from Angelo. ‘I am okay, now. Angelo, you need to go and deliver Mrs Chapman’s order. She lives two doors up,’ she explained to the others, ‘but she is old and frail. Angelo delivers her fish and chips every Sunday.’

‘If you are sure, my love.’ Angelo paused but Mira waved her hand at him. ‘I will be straight back.’ He picked up a parcel of chips and went to the door. ‘Straight back.’ The bell tinkled as he went outside.

‘Listen, you kids.’ Hannah had been watching Angelo’s retreating figure and jumped at the anger in Mira’s voice. The woman leaned on the counter and glared at them. ‘I know what you’re up to and I’m not letting you get involved. Your fax came and I tore it up.’

‘What?’ said Hannah. ‘You had no right to do that! It was mine.’

‘I tore it up,’ Mira repeated. ‘And I’ll tear up every other one you get your brother to send. Don’t meddle with this town, kids, or you’ll come to grief.’

‘We don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Hannah said.

‘Keep your nose out of this town’s business. It’s for your own sakes.’

The door opened and Angelo swept in. ‘Mrs Chapman’s got a cake for you, Mira. She wants you to pop in. I said you would. She’s waiting for you. Have you given these kids the fax?’

‘Yes,’ said Mira quickly. ‘They have all they need.’ She stepped out from behind the counter, taking off her apron as she went. ‘I will go and see Mrs Chapman.’ Glaring at Hannah, Mira left the store.

‘Could we have two dollars worth of chips, please?’ E.D. asked Angelo. ‘Dinner will be ages at the cottage.’

‘Sure, sure. Two dollars worth of chips. Coming right up.’ Angelo turned back to the cookers.

‘I can’t believe you,’ Hannah hissed at E.D. ‘Always thinking about your stomach. Food, food, food. She tore up the fax, for God’s sake!’

‘Ring him,’ said E.D. through clenched teeth.

‘What?’

‘Ring Sean and get him to send it again. Hurry!’

Hannah got it. Quickly she pulled out her phone and dialled.

‘How long do faxes take?’ said Angus to E.D.

‘I know Sean’s dad has a fax machine in his study.’ E.D. glanced nervously out of the window. ‘It should only take a few minutes.’

Hannah finished the call and came to stand next to the boys at the counter. E.D. moved over until the fax machine was at his right elbow. Angelo started humming, as he tossed the chips and set the wire mesh basket to drain.

‘C’mon,’ muttered E.D., nudging the fax machine.

Then three things happened at once. Angelo lifted the chips and slapped them down on the bench, the fax machine started to hum and Mira walked back into the shop.

Hannah stepped away from the counter and stood right in front of Mira. ‘You wouldn’t believe what happened today?’ she babbled. ‘We saw a mother seal in the water and she was swimming crazily up and down…’ Without pausing for breath and without letting Mira behind the counter, Hannah related the whole story of the trapped baby seal and E.D.’s heroic rescue. Angus moved to stand next to her, adding ‘That’s right’ and ‘You’ve got it there’ until E.D. joined them, the bundle of chips under his arm.

‘You are a good boy helping a baby seal,’ Mira said slowly, looking at E.D. carefully.

‘All in a day’s work,’ said E.D. cheerfully. ‘We better go, guys, or the others will think we’ve eaten all the chips.’ He nodded to Angelo. ‘Ciao.’

Hannah looked back as they left the shop behind and saw Mira standing in the doorway, staring after them. Hannah nudged E.D. ‘Did you get it?’

‘Yep.’ E.D. said, tugging at the parcel.

‘Don’t look at it now. Mira’s watching us. Wait until we get around the corner.’

They hurried on, heading towards the beach. Once the lights of the fish and chip shop had disappeared, Hannah stopped. ‘Now, E.D.’

E.D. pulled the parcel of chips from under his arm and handed Hannah three pages. She thumbed through them. ‘A cover letter, the article from
The Intrepid Times
dated 1849, and another article. This one’s from
The National News
and it’s dated 1975.’

‘Why’s he sent that one?’ E.D. opened the packet of chips and stuffed two in his mouth. ‘Ow, hot, hot!’

‘Well, duh, mate.’ Angus took a handful of chips and blew on them before he put them in his mouth. ‘Want some, Han?’

But Hannah was too busy reading to eat. She looked up at Angus. ‘We’ve hit the jackpot here, I think. This second article—’

‘Well, if it isn’t my friends from the island.’ From behind them, Kristy and her gang appeared.

‘Friends? You’d hardly know what that word meant.’ E.D. looked pointedly at Daniel, who blushed.

The girl stepped forward menacingly. ‘Just stay off that island. We got there first.’ She held a finger up to E.D., then turned and walked away, the two boys following.

‘You know, she’s such a nice girl,’ said E.D., ‘but she’s the second person today to tell us to stop doing something that we don’t even know we’re doing!’

‘I think we do now.’ Hannah held up the fax. ‘I think we know a lot more now.’

Sunday, 19 December, evening

The National News, 22 December 1975

TREASURE ISLAND TRAGEDY

Exactly a year after the horrific boating accident that claimed the lives of two innocent children, the man responsible has been placed in gaol.

Ronald Henry Jamison was sentenced to fifteen years in custody for a range of charges relating to his maltreatment of children under his care. It was revealed that Jamison, the owner operator of a private orphanage called Care ‘n’ Comfort Cottage, had been using the children in his residential care to dig for alleged treasure on an island situated near Intrepid Point.

‘I have never seen a more blatant use of child labour for his greed-ridden purposes,’
said Magistrate Brown in court yesterday. ‘That such a tragedy as two children drowning occurred during a half past ten night-time foray, when all children should be asleep, only serves to heighten the sheer abhorrence of your crime.’

Residents of Intrepid Point attending the sentencing were shocked at the revelations. ‘We had no idea that he was forcing those poor children to dig at the island,’ said Emily Butters, a local shop owner. ‘There are rumours about some gold or other treasure, but it’s just a legend. No one actually believes it. It’s a disgrace. I hope he rots in gaol.’

The two children who drowned on board Jamison’s boat were Elizabeth Croft (13) and Sebastian Somerville (8). Elizabeth is survived by her twin brother, Thomas, who was also on the boat at the time; but Sebastian had no known relatives. The only other child resident at Care ‘9’ Comfort Cottage at the time, a nine-year-old girl, has been removed from the premises and placed in foster care. Thomas Croft was discharged from hospital a month after the accident and now resides in a different orphanage.

Jamison is currently waiting further sentencing for theft and forgery crimes committed before he became the custodian at Care ‘n’ Comfort Cottage.

‘That’s terrible,’ Gabby said as Hannah finished reading the article. ‘What a horrible man.’

‘Hmmm,’ said Hannah, looking thoughtfully at Ling.

‘I hate it when you do that,’ said Angus, giving Hannah a playful shove. ‘What are you thinking about?’

They were in the girls’ room and it had grown dark. There had been little chance for discussion at dinner, partly because the dining room was full with a group of people visiting from Beachworth.

Ling reached over and flicked on her reading lamp. In the yellow light her eyes looked large and shadowed.

‘I was just thinking that this little town has had a whole heap of things happen to it. First, a coach gets robbed and gold ingots and other things are taken.’ She held up the faxed item from
The Intrepid Times.
‘It says here that the gold was hidden by one of the bushrangers on the Isle of Many.’

‘That would make it the Isle of Money,’ said E.D., chuckling to himself.

‘But the bushranger died,’ said Hannah, glaring at E.D., ‘and his body wasn’t discovered for so long that he was just a skeleton when they did find him. No one ever knew where the gold was buried and no one has been able to find it.’

‘That’s just a story,’ said Gabby, tossing her hair over her shoulders. ‘It’s one of those myths that old places have. You know, like the one at my school?’

‘We don’t go to your school, Gab,’ Ling reminded her.

‘Oh. Well, there’s meant to be a ghost living in the headmaster’s room. It’s the ghost of the very first headmaster who was found dead in his chair by the sewing mistress. She went mad and they closed the room up for ten years until the big renovation. The ghost lives there to this day.’

‘Has anyone ever seen it?’ Hannah folded her arms.

‘Yes, of course. No one I know but someone has seen it. I guess.’

‘Hmmm,’ said Hannah.

‘Anyway.’ Gabby shrugged. ‘It’s a story. Like this bushranger’s gold.’

‘Well, this Ronald Jamison—he thought the rumours were true. The kids were digging up the island for him.’ E.D. lazily rolled over onto his back on Gabby’s bed. She grimaced.

‘But he didn’t find any, did he?’ Angus said.

‘There’s no evidence that he did.’ Hannah scanned both articles again. ‘It doesn’t say anything here.’

‘What was he doing rowing back from the island so late at night?’ Angus took the papers from Hannah and looked for himself. ‘It was half past ten on a stormy night. Maybe he did find something.’

They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the beach.

‘Care ‘n’ Comfort Cottage,’ said Hannah softly. ‘Care ‘n’ Comfort Cottage. Ling, what was this place before it became a guesthouse?’

‘It was nothing. It had been left empty for ages. I remember Mum saying they had to spend heaps of money on it because the last owners had abandoned it. I know it had been a little place a long time ago—the original Spray Cottage—but then whoever had bought it added all these rooms.’ Ling shrugged.

‘To turn it into an orphanage, perhaps?’

‘Hey, what about that old photo hanging up
in the games room?’ E.D. hauled himself up. The others looked at him blankly. ‘You know? With the kids and stuff standing out the front?’

‘We don’t know what you’re talking about, E.D.,’ said Gabby.

‘Back in a moment.’ He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

‘What time is it now?’ Hannah asked.

Angus looked at his watch. ‘Nearly quarter past ten.’ He yawned. ‘I’m not used to staying up this late!’

‘That’s because you normally get up at five o’clock to help your dad with the horses.’

Angus nodded. Before he could say any more, E.D. burst through the door holding a framed photo. ‘Care ‘n’ Comfort Orphanage, 1965.’ He held the photo up so everyone could see it.

The grainy photo showed a run-down version of the house they were staying in. A roughly painted sign nailed to the verandah post displayed its name. The curtains on the windows were closed and a startled cat stood on the path leading to the door. A group of children sat around the front steps staring glumly at the camera. Two adults—a man and a woman—stood on either side of the kids, looking just as bored.

‘Do you reckon that’s him?’ Hannah asked.

‘Who, Ronald Jamison?’ E.D. said. ‘Could be.’

‘Doesn’t look very comforting,’ said Gabby. ‘It looks scary. I wouldn’t want to live there.’

‘Well, you’re here now,’ said Hannah, studying the photo more closely. ‘This means those children who drowned used to live here. Elizabeth and Sebastian.’

Gabby rubbed her arms. ‘It’s getting cold in here. Does anyone mind if I shut the window? Ling? Ling! Are you alright?’

Ling was sitting cross-legged on her bed with her eyes closed. She was shivering, as if she’d been swimming in the cold sea.

‘Ling!’ said Angus. ‘Open your eyes.’

Ling shook her head and lifted a hand. ‘It’s okay. But I think she’s coming.’

‘Who?’ said Gabby, looking around her. ‘Mrs Dalrymple?’

‘I think she means the…you know,’ Hannah whispered.

‘The what?’

‘The ghost, Gabby!’ E.D. swept his hair from his face. ‘G-H-O-S-T.’

Gabby went still. ‘Should…should we stay here? Maybe we should go. You know; it got scared last time.’

‘Stay.’ Ling’s voice was almost too quiet to hear.

‘Move back,’ said Angus. ‘Give her plenty of room.’

Leaving Ling on her bed, the others crept over to Hannah’s bed and sat along it with their backs to the wall. The room had become very cold and Hannah pulled her jacket closer. Outside, the sky was dark; the stars just faint pinpricks above the cliffs. As Hannah looked, a sharp flash lit the lighthouse and disappeared again.

Gabby glanced towards the window. A soft crying, like that of a young child, seemed to come through the open window.

‘There’s—’

‘Shhh,’ said Angus quietly. ‘It’s happening.’

Ling closed her eyes. In the middle of the room she could sense a figure faintly hovering. It was a girl dressed in a long T-shirt and skirt. Ling suddenly sat bolt upright, her eyes open. The figure stretched her arm out towards Ling and some soft words drifted through the air.

‘Tom…’

‘Will…’

‘Lighthouse…’

Ling raised her hand towards the girl’s outstretched arm and for a moment it seemed that their fingers would connect. The girl slowly withdrew her arm and pointed out the window.

‘Tom…’

‘Will…’

‘Keeper…’

The figure became lighter, as if its energy was fading. Ling reached forward but the girl was gone. She slumped back on the bed, breathing hard.

No one moved for what seemed like a very long time. The room began to warm up again but Ling was still shivering. Angus went over to her, pulling the doona up around her shoulders. Hannah looked at her watch: 10.51 p.m. The whole event had only taken three, maybe four, minutes.

‘Something happened but I didn’t see anything,’ Hannah said at last.

Ling looked up, her face pale.

‘What did
you
see, Ling?’ asked Gabby sitting at her cousin’s side.

‘Guys!’ Ling said softly, turning to them. ‘That article? The girl that drowned. Elizabeth Croft. It’s her.’

‘Ling, how do you know that?’ Angus said.

‘She said “Tom”. Tom’s her brother, not Will. I know it. I just know it. The ghost is the girl who drowned in the boat accident. Her name is Elizabeth Croft.’

When the boys left, Gabby tucked Ling in bed and snuggled under her own doona. Hannah was already in bed, her face turned to Gabby. They lay staring at each other in the dark. Ling seemed to fall asleep quickly, but she mumbled and stirred restlessly as if she was having bad dreams.

‘What do we do now, Han?’ Gabby whispered when Ling settled momentarily.

Hannah paused. ‘Elizabeth’s brother survived the accident. There’s a chance he may still be alive somewhere. I think we need to find him.’

‘How do we do that? It didn’t say where he went to after he left here. And he was only thirteen years old. He could be anywhere.’

‘It’s lucky I taught Sean a thing or two.’

‘What do you mean?’

Hannah propped herself up on her elbow. ‘Sean got us those articles on the treasure and the coach accident really quickly. He may be a pain in the neck but he isn’t bad on the computer. I’ve taught him heaps. I’ll get him to do a search on Thomas Croft. He might come up with something.’

‘If we knew the name of the other little girl
who was at the orphanage, he could do a search on her, too. And if we could find out who Will is.’

‘Yeah.’ Hannah lay down again. ‘There must be some way to find out. Perhaps they know at the Historical Society.’

There was silence and Hannah thought that Gabby had fallen asleep—but she hadn’t.

‘Han?’ The voice was sleepy.

‘Yeah?’

‘Do you believe in ghosts?’

Hannah didn’t say anything for a long time; Gabby had fallen asleep by the time she answered.

‘I don’t know, Gab. I just don’t know.’