The Empty Desk (7 page)

Melinda drove away from the school with a feeling of disappointment. She had enjoyed spending time talking to the children and had found their enthusiasm infectious. She had been thrilled at the way that Aiden had been able to speak up in front of the class, and yet she still had a sinking feeling in her stomach, just because she had not been able to speak with the spirit of the little girl who had seemed so lost. There was a sorrow about the child that had left her feeling close to tears. She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost forgot to turn off so she could swing by to pay a visit to Mr. Lowe's son. A promise was a promise.

She pulled the car to a halt on the opposite side of the road and paused for a moment before she climbed out. The roll-up door of the workshop was open, and she could see Delia's car inside, its hood up with someone leaning over it. She hoped that it was going to be Jez's son, rather than just someone who was working with him.

“What are you waiting for?” a voice behind her said. Melinda glanced across, not surprised to find Jez sitting in the passenger seat.

“Just give me a moment,” she said. “I'm just working out what I should be saying to him. That is him, isn't it?”

“Yes, that's my son. Tell him that he doesn't know everything. Tell him that it's dangerous to try to do things he doesn't really know how to do. Tell him that he can't do everything on his own.”

“On his own? Doesn't he have anyone else working with him?”

“Doesn't look like it,” he said. “No sign of anyone else. He needs to be told that he's got to get this place sorted out. He needs to be told.”

“I can't walk up to him and say that,” Melinda said. “He'd think I was crazy.”

“Well, he'll certainly think you're crazy if you tell him that the warnings are coming from the dad he's not long buried.”

He was right and she knew it. She'd tried that often enough to know what the results could be. There was no way of knowing how he would react, but the odds of him just accepting what she said were pretty slim. It wasn't the sort of thing she could reveal until she got to know him a little, at least, so she could choose her moment. She took a deep breath and climbed out of the car. No matter how hard this might be, it still had to be done.

“Mr. Lowe?” she asked as she approached the figure who was paying close attention to the workings beneath the hood of Delia's car. She winced as she realized that she had startled the man, as he jerked up quickly and hit his head. He turned, with one hand rubbing his scalp vigorously.

“That's me,” he said. “How can I help you?”

“I'm a friend of Delia's,” Melinda said, hoping that she hadn't caused him too much pain.

“Delia? Don't think I know any Delia,” he said.

“That's her car you're working on,” Melinda said.

“Ah. Yes, of course.” He checked his hand for blood, seemingly relieved when it revealed none, then rubbed again.

“She's a bit worried that you seem to be avoiding her. Is there a problem?”

“No, not at all. Just taking longer than I expected.”

Melinda took a step closer to peer in at the engine, as if she would be able to tell what the problem was by looking at it. A laptop was perched there precariously, though it wasn't running at the moment.

“So what's the problem with it?” she asked.

“Ah, well,” he said. “These old beauties often have lots of little things that start wearing out and making odd noises long before they break. It's not always easy to find out exactly which one is giving cause for concern.”

“You mean you haven't got a clue?” she asked. She wanted to give him the chance to admit that he was struggling to resolve the problem, but she could see by the way he was squirming that he was not about to admit to anything. She could tell when someone was out of their depth but unwilling to admit it.

“Of course I have. There are just a number of things that need checking.”

“Ask him if he's checked the bearings,” Jez said, appearing beside him, taking a look inside the engine himself. Melinda did as she was asked, even though she resented being told how she should deal with this.

“Of course I have. That was one of the first things I looked at. The bearings are fine, and so are the brakes. But if you think that you know better than I do, perhaps you'd like to have a go yourself.”

“Sorry,” she said. She didn't like confrontation at the best of times, and she liked it even less when she was caught in the middle of everything and having to talk about something that she didn't really have a clue about. “So how long do you think it will take to finish going through the other possibilities?”

Jez was still peering into the engine calling out questions for her to ask him, but she did her best to ignore him. She had the feeling that she had already pushed the man far enough.

“I could find it in the next half an hour, or it might just as likely take another day.”

“Tell him he doesn't know one end of a classic vehicle like this from the other,” Jez said. “Tell him that computer isn't going to help him. Go on, tell him.” The ghost of the old man was getting agitated. He moved away from the car and started waving his arms to attract her attention, then stood between them, making it even harder for Melinda to ignore him. “Ask him to start the engine.”

“Would you mind starting the engine?” she asked, almost without thinking, and before he had even responded began to regret it. Instead of telling her to just let him get on with it, he did as she asked, clearly thinking that humoring her would be the fastest way to get her out of there.

The engine roared into life, and Jez returned to his position with his head under the hood while his son stood waiting for an explanation.

“Well?” the younger man asked, oblivious to the fact that the ghost of his father was still trying to watch over him, still checking everything that he did. Melinda tried not to keep looking at the ghost, but it wasn't easy.

“Get him to drive the car around the block,” Jez said. Melinda gave him a look of exasperation, not sure if the son had caught sight of it. She was getting tired of this and couldn't really afford to hang around for too much longer without making any progress.

“Look, lady,” he said, his voice raised a little higher than it had been before. She was clearly stretching his patience as well as her own. “I don't know who you are, or what makes you think you have any right to come here and tell me how to do my job, but why don't you just let me carry on. I'll give your friend a call when I've fixed it.”

He turned off the engine again and stood between her and the car, his arms folded in defiance. She had pushed things as far as she could and was in danger of provoking a scene.

“Okay,” she said, raising her hands in surrender. “Why don't I swing by after work with Delia and see how you're getting on, if she hasn't heard from you by then?”

“Fine,” he said. “But I'm hoping to be finished with this before then. Now, if you'd just let me get on, then maybe I will.”

He turned his back on her, and she knew that there was no point in talking to him any longer unless she was going to try to explain about his father. Jez took off his engineer's cap for a moment and ran his fingers over his scalp, an action that was clearly something he had done regularly in life.

“You can't give up,” he said.

“I'm not giving up,” she said, a little louder than she had intended. Jez's son turned around and gave her a puzzled look.

“What?” he asked.

“I'm not giving up,” she said again. “I'll be back.”

She turned around without a backward glance and walked straight to her car. She climbed in behind the wheel, half expecting the old man to join her again, but as she finally glanced across she saw that he was still remonstrating with the son who could neither see nor hear him.

“So how did it go?” Delia asked as Melinda walked back into the store, carrying the box with the things she had taken to the classroom. She was standing at the counter with papers spread out in front of her, but she didn't look as if she had made that much progress. She piled them back together again to create space for Melinda to put the box down.

“Depends what you're asking about,” she replied.

“School, of course. How did you cope with so many kids in the same place at once?” She gave a mock shiver, though Melinda knew that she loved kids.

“They were great, really. Aiden was great. He stood up in front of the class to tell them all about one of the things he'd chosen.”

“And what about the ghost? Did you help her?”

“I didn't get the chance to talk to her, or maybe she didn't want to talk to me. I think I'm going to have to go back again.”

“I guess not everyone wants to be helped,” Delia said.

That was possible, but Melinda didn't think that was the case this time. She had come across plenty of ghosts who had not wanted to pass over for one reason or another, but none of them seemed to be as distressed as the girl she had encountered in the classroom. Maybe there was a reason that she wanted to stay, but Melinda knew that she wouldn't be able to rest until she was sure what the situation was. Maybe it was just going to take a little time to win her over. The fact that it was the ghost of a child was the reason that it was tugging at her heartstrings.

“I'll have to try again,” she said.

“You didn't find anything out about her at all?” Delia asked.

Melinda shrugged. “I'm sure that Dana and Aiden were right about her name being Alice, but I'm not sure that helps us a great deal. It can't be easy to track someone down if that's all you have to go on. I'll speak to Dana later and try to arrange to go back to the school again sometime tomorrow. If I'm lucky, the girl might be there again and more inclined to talk to me.”

“Maybe you'll get home and find that Aiden has solved this all for you,” Delia suggested. “He'll be doing your job for you before you know it. It'll all be turning into something of a family business.”

“Oh, I think we're a long way from that,” Melinda said.

She unpacked the contents from the box and returned them to their appointed places in the store, pausing over each one to think about the reactions she had received from the children. They may not have all been interested in all three of the items, but she was sure that there was at least something that engaged each of the children.

“Oh, and I swung by to see how they were getting on with your car,” Melinda said.

“Please tell me that they've sorted out the problem,” Delia said, stopping what she was doing, her paperwork set aside.

“I wish I could, but I don't think he's any closer to working out what's wrong with it than when you took it in. And there's no
they
—it's just Jez's son on his own with no one to help him.”

“That's it. I'll find somewhere else to take it to,” Delia said.

“I said we'd give it until the end of the day and that we'd call in on our way home, if that's okay with you? I think we should stick with that for now.”

“Sure thing,” she said. “I'd like to give him a piece of my mind, and I guess the only way I'm going to be able to do that is face to face. He doesn't seem very keen to answer the phone whenever I call.”

“I think the poor guy is just out of his depth.”

“Please don't tell me that you're starting to feel sorry for him.”

“A little. Maybe,” Melinda said.

“Melinda! The man needs to be spoken to. He can't treat people like this.” The anger in Delia's voice was starting to surface, and Melinda knew that anyone getting in her way would do well to get out of it.

“I'm sure you're right, but I think this is more about him not being able to cope without his father being around than it is about him not being able to do the job properly.”

“Is that what he said?”

“No, but you should have seen the way that Jez was behaving. He was trying to treat his son like a child, even though he knew that he couldn't see him. We've only really heard one side of this story, Delia, and maybe there's more to it than we've been told so far.”

“So should we get Jez in a chair and shine a bright light in his face to get him to tell the truth? Is that what we're saying?”

“He's a ghost, Delia. That's hardly going to work, is it?”

“I suppose the light would go straight through him, wouldn't it?” Delia suggested.

“It's not funny,” Melinda said, trying to keep a smile from her own face. It was not a laughing matter, but she was still having trouble getting the image out of her head. “It's the son we need to talk to this time, I think, hopefully without Jez interrupting, but he keeps turning up. Either that or I'm just going to have to ignore him, but somehow I can't see that being possible.”

Delia gathered up her paperwork and returned it all to the folder she had brought it in. Melinda would have been more than happy for her to stay a little longer, but she knew that Delia needed to go back to her own business. As soon as she had left, though, Melinda looked around the shop and knew that she would not be able to settle until she had an idea of what she was going to do about the girl.

She tried Dana's number, but it went straight to voicemail, and she hung up without leaving a message. She was sure that Dana would call back when she saw the missed call displayed on her phone. The chances of her making it back to the school again today were slim; she certainly couldn't ask Delia to keep an eye on the shop again. At least not today. There had to be something else she could do to help at least one of the ghosts who needed her attention. She picked up her phone again and made another call.