Description

There she stood, tall in stature, stiff lace covering her face, a lady dressed from head to foot in black. In order to display her displeasure, she slowly raised her veil and frowned.

I froze.

‘I want to speak to you about the squealing child running around last night.’ A smirk hovered at the corners of her mouth, ‘There are no children on the premises.’

Ghosts lurk in the garden, more in the attic. I know – for I have seen them, smelled them, heard them, felt them – the ‘shadow children’.

Alice showed them the note then read out the translation. ‘In this house we were always nervous.’ She was mortified, ‘What have I brought us to?’

As they stepped onto the pavement, the waiter called out, ‘Keep the lights on. Stay as a group. No one go anywhere alone!’

No one could deny what they were seeing. The silhouette of a woman – cast upon the wall. Everyone looked to see whose it might be. There was no one from whom it could have been projected.

A hand emerged through the mirror. Its cold bony fingers stroked my face.