‘I mean just in case it’s not a ghost. In case it’sreal.’
‘Well, it’s obviously real,’ said Effie. ‘We’re both hearing it.’
‘You know what I mean!’ Theo blew air through his lips. ‘Do you do that on purpose? Twist my words?’
Effie’s eyes narrowed so much that her glasses prescription felt off. People were always accusing her of this, when all she wanted was clarity.Well then, don’t say stupid things, she wanted to say.
So this date was going well.
‘Come on,’ she whispered, trying to redeem herself. She crept stealthily through the book stacks, trying to pinpoint exactly where the sound had come from.
From above came a huge thud, as though a dozen books had slipped from the shelves and fallen to the floor.
‘It’s in the upstairs reading room,’ she decided. With a fortifying breath, she headed for the curving stairwell that led up to the soaring space, one of her favourites in the library. Theo at her heels, she picked her way up the stairs, squinting in the dim moonlight that filtered in through the stained-glass windows.
‘Now that I think of it, are wesurewe want to be chasing a ghost?’ whispered Theo, catching at her arm. ‘What if it’s malevolent?’
Effie’s wrist sparked at the contact. Oh shit, not now. Not when she had a ghost to deal with. She focused her magic, pressing it deep down inside, hoping Theo hadn’t noticed her wrists glowing green.
But of course he had. How could you not notice being zapped by someone every time you touched them?
Theo drew back, surprised. ‘Wow, talk about sparks. That’s the second time that’s happened, you know.’
‘It’s these shoes,’ whispered Effie. ‘Static electricity. Don’t worry, ghosts are afraid of it.’
So she hoped. She’d only ever properly met one ghost: Jean Floyd, who hung out in the ballroom at the Toto Hotel. Jean was quiet, and never bothered anyone. She perched on the plush silver chair that no one at the hotel had the heart to move, waiting to be asked to dance. Effie wasn’t the only one who’d seen her. Maureen from the kitchen had mentioned seeing a young woman dressed as a flapper dancing the Charleston alone as she’d cleaned up after an event one night, and Sabine always commented on the strange energy in the room.
Effie didn’t know if Jean was the norm for ghosts, but she couldn’t imagine a library ghost being cruel. A library ghost would surely want to sit around reading and sipping cups of ghostly tea.
Effie swallowed. She was at the top of the steps now. Ahead of her was the moonstruck upper reading room, with its shelves and tables picked out by the gentle light of the night sky. The globe on the stand in the eastern corner spun slowly. Hopefully because of a draught.
‘Okay, I’m going in,’ she whispered.
‘I’m right behind you,’ murmured Theo, so close that she could feel her wrists glowing again.Dammit, magic, not now.
Tugging her sleeves further down her wrists, Effie tiptoed into the reading room, casting her gaze around for any sign of the poltergeist that had been rampaging through the jigsaw puzzles in the kids’ section and knocking the books off the returns trolley.
Hiss!
With a shriek, a dark blob scuttled past them, disappearing down the stairs.
‘Come on.’ Unthinking, Effie grabbed Theo’s hand as she hurried back down the stairs.
Downstairs was dim: the lights had blown. Effie wondered whether the glimmer of her magic earlier had done it. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all. And it was a more pleasant thought than the idea that the ghost might have done it.
But she didn’t have long to ponder the thought, for there was movement in the non-fiction stacks.
‘You take the 300s, and I’ll take the 400s,’ whispered Effie, creeping through the stacks. She knew the room so well that even in the dim light she could navigate around without tripping over a stepladder or a reading chair. Theo did not have this advantage, and she heard a few groans and moans as he bashed his shins into low shelves or sculpture plinths.
There!
From deep within one of the shelves, yellow eyes glowed.
Mrow!
The ghost was on the run once more. A vase tumbled to the floor, landing with a dull thud that Effie knew all too well. It was the unmistakable sound of something landing on the thick rug that covered the parquetry flooring found only in one section of the library.
‘It’s in large-print fiction,’ murmured Effie, grabbing Theo’s arm as he rounded the aisle ahead of her. Her wrists sparked once more, but she ignored it, hoping Theo was too preoccupied to notice that she was glowing like uranium glass.
