Love at Second Sight (13 page)

‘Spooky,’ I said.

‘What a creep,’ said Effy. ‘Giving her a book of poems then digging her up to get them back. That’s so gross.’

‘I hope she haunted him,’ I said as our guide beckoned us on.

‘And now we reach the most famous part of the cemetery,’ said the guide. ‘Some call it the street or avenue of death or the Egyptian avenue and it leads to the circle of
Lebanon.’

As we turned a corner, we came upon a magnificent stone gateway flanked by columns and obelisks worthy of a temple in Egypt. It looked as if it had been built into the side of a hill like the
entrance to a cave. As we trooped through the gate, we saw a dark tunnel lined with tall chambers.

‘Note the upturned torches on the door frames,’ said the guide as he led us through and we looked up at the tall doors towering above us. ‘In here are twenty family
catacombs.’

‘If there are families in here, maybe we’ll find the Wattses,’ said Effy.

I read the inscriptions next to the doors as we walked through but there were no Wattses. After a while, we came to some steps and climbed up to find another level of graves with an enormous
cedar tree in the middle.

‘Take a look around,’ said the guide, ‘and we’ll reconvene in a few minutes.’

At last we were free to wander and the three of us split up to cover as much ground as we could. Some of the statues above the graves were works of art and looked like they must have cost a lot
of money. I particularly liked the angels. A few minutes later, Effy ran to get me. ‘Over here,’ she said. ‘I’ve found them!’

I quickly followed her and there, set a short way back from the path, was a marble plinth with a statue of a seated woman in veils. She was leaning against an urn, her head bowed. In her right
hand was an upturned torch, in her left, a wreath. I could just about make out the faded writing on the stone:

Underneath that was:

‘Daniel must have been the little boy that Henrietta cared for,’ said Effy.

‘And Howard was only thirty-three when he died. So young,’ said Tash.

‘Looking at the date, maybe he died in the First World War,’ I commented. ‘And it looks as if he never married.’

It felt odd to be standing there over a stranger’s grave.
What were this family like?
I wondered. Whether I knew them or not, it was eerie to be there. Only a week ago, I was so
sure of things. So sure of who I was. Now I felt like I didn’t know anything.

‘Moving on,’ called our guide and beckoned us to go back and join the group. ‘I have another group at eleven.’

‘Ask him about Henrietta,’ urged Tash and Effy raced forward to catch the guide up and we hurried to join her.

‘You need to talk to Harry. He looks after the grounds,’ the guide told Effy in answer to her question. ‘I can’t say the name Gleeson is a familiar one, but then some of
the graves in the unconsecrated ground are unmarked. Harry will know though, or it will be on a map on the computer. All the graves are listed and accounted for.’

By this time, we were almost back at the courtyard we’d started from. We’d been around in a complete circle and could see a new group waiting at the gates. Our guide said goodbye and
went over to greet them.

Effy, Tash and I made our way to the chapel where we found a middle-aged lady at a desk. ‘Is Harry here?’ I asked.

‘You just missed him, love,’ she said. ‘He’ll be back in a couple of hours. Can I help?’

Effy explained about the grave we were looking for.

‘No, Harry’s your man. I can’t help I’m afraid. Come back around two.’

I sighed. I was never going to get any homework done at this rate but no way was I going home now. We’d got so close and found the Watts grave. I had to stay and find
Henrietta’s.

‘OK, let’s go and get a strong cappuccino,’ I said. ‘I need a break from the dead, let’s go and live a little.’

As we passed the florist’s shop on the way to the café in Highgate, I glanced in the window. I could see Ben inside. He was holding a bunch of white lilies and
standing at the till.

I nudged Effy. ‘There’s Ben,’ I said and she went and virtually pressed her nose up against the window. I prayed that he wouldn’t turn around and see us. Effy can be so
uncool sometimes. Luckily, he didn’t notice us so Effy gave up and we carried on to Costa.

‘Flowers, huh,’ she said as we went into the café and joined the queue for drinks. ‘So he must have a girlfriend somewhere. I wouldn’t have taken him for the
romantic sort.’

‘Speculation,’ I said. ‘They might be for anyone his mum or someone’s birthday.’

‘Maybe they’re for you,’ said Effy.

‘As
if
,’ I said. ‘I don’t think he likes me very much.’

‘He invited you to his exhibition,’ said Tash. ‘He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like you a bit.’

‘Whatever,’ I said. I didn’t care. It was Finn I cared about. I couldn’t get him out of my head. His laughing eyes, his cheeky grin. He’d sent me a text that
morning:
Need update on fortunetellers. Anything about us yet?
I’d texted back,
Dream on
. He’d texted back a heart.
But does he mean it?
I wondered. I was still confused
about whether he was genuinely interested or just a flirt. After the Sunday at the festival, I’d hoped that he might get in touch with me in the week but there had been nothing until the text
that morning, not even a poke on Facebook. I’d been tempted to contact him but the thousands of girls on his list of friends on his Facebook page soon stopped me. Maybe it was time to share
with Effy and Tash to get their opinion.

We found a table at the back of the café, settled down, and Effy and Tash began to talk about finding the Watts grave.

‘How did you feel standing there knowing that you were looking at Howard’s grave?’ asked Tash.

‘Actually I wanted to talk to you both about something else . . . er, OK I’m just going to come out with it. Forget about Howard for a moment and researching some dead guy I’m
interested in a live one.’

Effy sighed.’Finn,’she said.

‘What? What’s the problem?’ I asked.

‘He is. I don’t want you to get hurt.’

‘Why should I? And at least he’s alive! Like . . . here we are looking into this Howard character who you’re both convinced is my soulmate and he doesn’t even exist any
more, but right in front of me is Finn who
does
exist and . . . and he’s kind of got to me.’

‘He
is
gorgeous,’ said Tash, ‘but doesn’t he have a girlfriend?’

‘Yeah.
A girlfriend;
Effy agreed.

‘She wasn’t there last week in Highbury. We don’t really know anything for sure, do we? Like, how long have they been an item? How serious is it? She could be anyone. A mate
even, like I am with Owen. If we’re going to research Howard, why can’t we research Finn as well?’

Tash nodded. ‘Fair point,’ she said.

What about Ben?’ asked Effy.

‘Ben?’ I asked. ‘What about him?’

‘Do you think it could be a coincidence that we just saw him on the very same day we found Howard’s grave?’ said Effy

‘A coincidence?’ I asked.

Effy nodded. ‘Maybe it’s a sign,’ she said but even she didn’t look totally convinced.

‘I’ve barely spoken to Ben and even when I have he’s been rude and distant. So no, Effy, I don’t think it’s a sign that we just saw him in the florist’s.
Maybe every man we’ve seen this morning is a contender, a sign. Come on, even you have to admit that to consider Ben just because he was on the high street today is pretty
ridiculous.’

Effy pouted and crossed her arms. ‘You should keep your options open. Consider other boys, that’s all I was saying.’

‘I do, I mean, I will. And actually, talking of other boys ... Has Owen got a girlfriend?’

Effy shook her head. ‘Not that I know of and not that he’d tell me if he did. Why?’

‘Oh . . . just he was with someone last time I called him. Susie.’

‘So you
do
call him?’

‘Sometimes.’

‘Does it bother you he might be with someone?’ asked Tash.

‘Course not. I was just interested, that’s all. He’s my oldest mate, mate that’s a boy that is,’ I replied, but I noticed Tash shot Effy a look as if to say, yeah
right.

‘You know it’s Finn I like,’ I said.

Effy nodded. ‘We do. I just don’t want you to get your heart broken, that’s all.’

‘I won’t. Look, I’m not stupid. I know that even if Finn isn’t seriously attached, he’d still have a queue of girls lining up and I might not have any chance, but
he keeps popping up in my mind and he does flirt. He wouldn’t do that if he was seriously attached.’

‘He might,’ said Effy. ‘He might be one of these boys who has to prove that he can have anyone. A Casanova. I read an article once which said some boys have something called a
Casanova Complex. It’s an ego thing, a need to know that they can get off with anyone but behind all the bravado they are actually insecure, hence the need to prove that they can pull over
and over again. You don’t want to get involved with anyone like that.’

‘Insecure and Finn are not two words I’d put together,’ I said.

‘No,’ said Tash, ‘and if Jo has got feelings for him, she’d be mad not to at least find out what his situation is.’

‘Yes. Thanks, Tash. See, Effy, maybe you’ve been right all along. Maybe I have been stuck in the past and maybe Betty was right about me being scared to take a risk when it comes to
boys. Up till now I’ve told myself that Finn is out of my league, but I think I have to be brave. Take a chance on love.’

‘Sounds good. And if it’s meant to be, it will be,’ said Tash.

‘OK, but if you really do want to go for Finn, sometimes you have to give fate a hand,’ said Effy.

‘Meaning?’ I asked.

‘Maybe we should do a ritual,’ said Effy. ‘Some spell or something to attract the right boy to you.’

I laughed. ‘I don’t need one of your witchy rituals,’ I said. When we were in Year Nine, I had a crush on a boy called Jake. Effy told me to cover a photo of him in sugar, put
it under my pillow then sleep on it. It was supposed to make Jake go sweet on me. All it did was get in my hair and make Mum mad because the sheets were so sticky. ‘Let’s keep it simple
find out where Finn’s at and see what happens.’

‘You’re the boss,’ said Effy, ‘just tread carefully with him.’

Tash rubbed her hands. ‘In the meantime,’ she said, ‘we could ask around about him.’ She sighed and looked out of the window with a dreamy expression in her eyes.
‘Actually, you would make a lovely couple. How’s the article going by the way?’

‘I’m still working on it,’ I said. ‘There’s not been much time with everything else that’s been going on.’

‘I’ve been looking at books and CDs about clairvoyants to see if I can get some quotes. Should be good by the time we’ve finished,’ said Effy.

‘Maybe you could give the report to Finn in person,’ said Tash.

‘Maybe I will,’ I said as I thought about his text this morning. It was the perfect excuse.

‘I could find out his address,’ said Effy. ‘I told you his parents are looking for a house so Mum will have their details on her files somewhere. I’ll look for you next
time I’m in.’

Yay. At last, the kind of research I really am interested in!
I thought.

‘Let’s get this thing done before it pours down,’ I said to Effy as we marched down Swain’s Lane.

By the time we’d got back to the cemetery, there was a thin drizzle of rain and a chill wind beginning to blow. We soon found Harry in the office of one of the chapels. He was a lovely old
man with white hair, twinkly blue eyes and a crinkled face. Effy filled him in on who we were looking for.

He listened and nodded. ‘I know exactly where she is,’ he said. ‘I was working up that way only yesterday. Give me a minute and I’ll take you there.’ He pulled on a
raincoat then handed us two umbrellas. ‘Here, you might be needing these.’

He led us back into the wood and this time, instead of going to the left, we went to the right.

‘It’s like a maze,’ I said as we followed him along several paths past various headstones. ‘How come you don’t get lost?’

‘It doesn’t take long to get to know your way round,’ he replied. ‘And I’ve been working here a good long time.’

‘Was everyone buried here rich?’ asked Tash.

Harry shook his head. ‘Not necessarily. They had a different attitude to burial in Victorian times; even the poorest family would save up to make sure their family got a good send-off and
a decent site.’

Harry led us away from the main path and over to an overgrown patch of land near the wall by the main road. The graves in this part were very different to the ostentatious and ornate kind
we’d seen in the morning. They were humble, small slabs of square stone, some completely covered in moss, others so worn away that there was no inscription left.

Harry led us to an area under a tree and pointed. ‘I think this is what you wanted to come and look at,’ he said to Effy. ‘I remembered the name because I was doing some
clearing here just the other day.’

Like the others nearby, it was a small, simple slab of stone but there, just about legible through the moss, was written the name:

My eyes filled with sudden tears which took me by surprise.

‘Who was she to you?’ asked Harry.

‘Oh, just someone I’ve been told about,’ I said. I didn’t understand my tears. Until a few weeks ago, the name Henrietta Gleeson meant nothing to me.

‘I’ll leave you alone for a while,’ said Harry. He pointed a short distance away ‘I’ll be there when you’re ready.’