Melody Bittersweet and The Girls' Ghostbusting Agency: A laugh out loud romantic comedy of Love, Life and ... Ghosts? by Kitty French

yes, along with others. Mr Scarborough,’ I turn my attention back to the homeowner. ‘My family are long-established and well respected in this area, and the service I can offer you is second to none.’
    ‘Are you suggesting that you don’t think these people are capable of the job they’ve been hired to do?’ He cocks his head towards Leo.
    I don’t dare glance in Leo’s direction. ‘No. But I am telling you that I’m better.’
    ‘Bullshit!’ Leo rips the velcro fastenings from the neck of his made-for-TV cape and flings it at one of the creepy twins in the style of an infuriated matador.
    ‘Is it?’ I say, jutting my chin in the air. ‘Only that’s not what Isaac thinks.’
    ‘Isaac?’ Scarborough frowns, confused.
    I fold my arms over my chest and nod. I fear that my expression is dangerously close to smug. ‘Isaac. Your great uncle.’
    ‘I don’t have a great uncle Isaac . . .’ Scarborough trails off, unconvinced.
    ‘Oh yes. Yes, you do. Or should I say, you did. He’s been dead almost fifty years and he’s standing right behind you.’
    Finally, the vacant twins become animated, dropping Leo’s belongings on the Minton-tiled floor as they jump back for fear of being trampled by the undead. Marina raises her eyebrows in a triumphant ‘beat that’ expression towards Leo, who swallows hard and looks a tiny bit less sure of himself as he darts a glance over Scarborough’s shoulder.
    ‘I knew that. Just didn’t want to startle you.’
    Scarborough looks rattled, and shoves both of his hands through his hair.
    ‘I don’t know what’s going on here between you lot, but here’s what’s going to happen. This house is giving everyone who steps inside it the creeps, me included. It always has.’ He pauses to glance around the square hallway and shivers. I think Marina was spot on when she said he was probably a man with an overblown sense of entitlement; he doesn’t seem at all grateful to have inherited Scarborough House. How can he not look at this place and see its potential as a gorgeous family house rather than selling it off to be stripped of its character and turned into a private nursing home?
    ‘I don’t care which of you clears it, but I’m only paying one of you, and no one sees a penny until I see results.’
    He pauses and pulls a key from the inside pocket of his jacket. ‘Here. Back door.’
    I hold in a tiny squee of triumph as he holds it out to me, and then a tiny sigh of regret as he pulls out a second key with a handwritten ‘front door’ label dangling from it and hands it to Leo.
    ‘Do your worst, all of you. Winner takes all. Just get a sodding move on, because every extra day this farce drags on costs me a bloody fortune.’
    Marina and I jump hastily out of his way as he struts off, and Leo steps outside the doorway to stand beside me on the garden path.
    ‘Uncle Isaac said to say “bye”,’ he calls after Scarborough, who halts momentarily as if considering his response before striding to the safety of his car without glancing back.
    ‘Liar,’ I murmur, because we both know that what Isaac had actually said was something far more inflammatory.
    He doesn’t deny it. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
    ‘My job.’
    ‘Since when?’ he scoffs. ‘Because as far as I recall, your family business mostly revolves around relaying dullsville messages about missing wedding rings or putting the bins out.’
    I bristle at his dismissal of my mother and Gran’s work at Blithe Spirits. Missing wedding rings and reminders about bin duties may not be earth-shattering things to everyone, but to the one person the message is intended for it can mean everything. It can mean that even though the person you love isn’t there anymore, they still love and care for you just as they always did. It shows that they know that you’re crying yourself to sleep at night because you can’t find your precious wedding ring, or that you forgot to put the bins out last week