Ghost of a Chance by Pam Harvey Page B

into the foyer, Mrs Dalrymple called to them. ‘Hello. A message for you from Angelo at the fish and chip shop. He says there’s a fax for you.’ She eyed E.D.’s wet hair. ‘Bit cold for a swim, dear?’
    ‘It was only cold after I got out,’ E.D. said through chattering teeth.
    ‘Oh.’ Mrs Dalrymple looked at him, puzzled. ‘Are you training too?’ E.D. nodded.
    ‘Go and have a shower, E.D.,’ Angus said. ‘Then we’ll go down to the fish and chip shop.’
    ‘Do you mind if I don’t come with you?’ Ling stood with her arms folded, as if she was hugging herself. ‘I think I’ll just go and rest until dinner. I sort of don’t feel well.’
    ‘Ling, you haven’t been well since we got here.’ Gabby put her arm around her cousin. ‘I think we’d better tell Mrs Dalrymple.’
    ‘No.’ Ling shook her head vigorously. ‘I’m not sick. I mean, I’m not sick in my body. It’s just…’ She looked at Angus.
    ‘It’s something else, isn’t it?’
    Ling nodded.
    ‘Well, okay, then.’ Gabby steered Ling towards the stairs. ‘We’ll go up to our room and I’ll look after you.’
    ‘I’ll only be a minute and I’ll be back down,’ E.D. said to Angus. He sprinted up the stairs ahead of the girls.
    Angus and Hannah waited on the front steps. The wind was still ferocious but they were sheltered where they sat. Hannah looked up at the lighthouse. Against the fading light, itlooked like a tall rock, dark and forbidding. ‘We didn’t get much of a go at the lighthouse,’ she said.
    ‘We’ll go back there another time,’ Angus said. ‘Maybe we can get in to have a proper look.’
    ‘Ready.’ E.D. suddenly appeared behind them. His face was bright red, as if he had run a mini-marathon. He saw them staring. ‘Hot shower. I mean, really hot. Now I know what a lobster feels like.’
    ‘Come on, then, before we miss out on dinner.’ Angus stood up and started the short walk into town.
    The fish and chip shop was lit with an array of coloured lighting. A small Christmas tree was in the window, decorated with tiny flashing bulbs. When E.D. pushed the door open, a bell tinkled merrily. Mira stood behind the counter, swiftly wrapping up some steaming chips for a customer. She glanced at E.D., frowned and dumped the parcel into the waiting man’s hand. Then she walked angrily through the door into the kitchen.
    ‘Hello, kids.’ Angelo turned from the cookers, his forehead beaded with perspiration.
    ‘Ciao,’ said E.D.
    ‘Oh,’ said Angelo, wiping his hands on his striped apron. ‘You had a fax today.’ He nodded towards the fax machine on the far corner of the counter. ‘It was addressed to Hannah Williams at Sprung Cottage but I knew what it meant.’
    ‘It’s from my brother,’ Hannah explained. She put her hand behind her back and crossed her fingers. ‘He wanted me to help him write his letter to Santa. I didn’t get time to help him before we left.’
    ‘Well, that’s nice, helping the bambino. You are a good sister. He is a lucky brother.’ Angelo gave Hannah a broad smile that made her turn red. ‘I will go and get the paper. Mira has taken it.’ He disappeared through the door.
    ‘Letter to Santa?’ E.D. laughed at Hannah. ‘Couldn’t you think of anything better than that?’
    ‘Well, I could hardly say homework, could I? It’s the holidays!’
    ‘It’s okay, Han,’ said Angus. ‘Shut up, E.D.’
    ‘I’m only thinking of the bambino and what a nice sister he has.’ E.D. ducked as Hannah took a swipe at him.
    They stood waiting for what seemed like an age. The cookers sizzled and the Christmas lightswinked on and off but still Angelo didn’t appear. Hannah heard loud talking in the kitchen—talking that quickly turned into shouting. She looked at Angus and E.D. Angus shrugged but E.D. walked to the counter and started listening intently. The heated conversation seemed to be in Italian.
    Suddenly, Mira burst into the café, Angelo following her closely.