finger at one of the three we’d whittled it down to. Of those three, it was one of the women who had married after the war.
‘Ruby Hershey,’ I said. ‘Like in the chocolate.’
‘Eh?’ said Dougie.
‘Is that Will?’ asked Andy.
‘What’s he saying?’ said Stu.
It was the one piece of information I’d failed to pass on to Dougie after my heart-to-heart with the Major. I didn’t think it had been important, hadn’t figured upon it having
a piece to play in the puzzle until it was there before my eyes.
‘Hershey as in Josh Hershey,’ I said, sighing as I recognised the tragic parallel. ‘He was the Major’s best mate, the guy who asked Ruby to marry him but she turned him
down for Chip.’
I turned to Dougie, his face pale as he caught the irony too. When he spoke to our friends, his voice was fragile.
‘She married the Major’s best mate.’
‘The Major’s mate,’ tutted Stu. ‘Worst. Friend. Ever.’
NINE
Beggars and Blackmailers
I don’t know whether it was my inspired catch on the whole Hershey thing that did it, but a distinct thaw in my relationship with Dougie followed. He no longer ignored
me, answering questions in a fashion, either with nods, single-syllable words or reluctant grunts. So long as we stuck to the topic of ghostly mysteries, we were on safe ground, but anything
regarding family or friends was strictly off limits. For me to bring up Lucy Carpenter or Mr Hancock would’ve been insane. We weren’t best mates – I doubted we ever would be again
– but we were talking, and that was something.
Dougie stood by the hob, the saucepan of beans bubbling, as he pasted butter over four slices of toast, two for each plate on the work surface.
‘So we’re calling in on the Major at some point in the next few days?’ I asked optimistically.
‘Mmm.’
‘We need to tell him what we’ve discovered about Ruby.’
‘Yup.’
‘I was also wondering – and shoot me down if this sounds too stupid – could we revisit the railway station? Perhaps in daylight? Check out the theory that the
Lamplighter’s cursed to remain there and can’t leave? It’d be good to know for sure.’
Dougie said nothing, taking the saucepan off the heat and carrying it over the plates of toast. He poured the gloop out on to the slices of steaming bread as I yammered on.
‘See, I’m wondering if there’s some way we can banish him? Exorcise him like Reverend Singer suggested that time? Stu says his dad knows people, right? Getting an evil spirit
vanquished once and for all has to be a good thing. I’d call it a win for us if it worked.’
Dougie clattered the pan on to the hob. He turned to me, his face humourless.
‘There
is
no “us” any more, Will. You were always the bright one, surely you can see this? We’re stuck together, like it or lump it. We can move on, but I
can’t forgive and forget what you said.’
‘Mate, we’ve both made mistakes, said some dumb things—’
‘Stop calling me “mate”, Will. We’ll go and see the Lamplighter, like you suggested.’ He picked up the two plates, cutlery in his shirt pocket. He cocked his head
and smiled. ‘Who knows? If we
can
banish his ghost, perhaps that’s the good deed that finally sends you on your way, eh?’
I didn’t reply as he walked away. It seemed he took a touch too much pleasure from that last comment.
‘You can but hope,’ I whispered, before following him through to the lounge.
Mr Hancock was already hunched forward in his armchair, cutting a corner off a slice of bean-topped toast. He was putting it away, clearly hungry. I wondered when he’d last had a meal. The
empty bottles were visible behind the chair, as were the pills he took, the bottle sitting on the cabinet beside him.
Dougie sat on the sofa, plate in lap, less enthusiastic with the feast before him. They ate in silence for a minute, Mr Hancock’s gaze fixed upon his plate.
‘When are you going back to work, Dad?’
Mr
‘Ruby Hershey,’ I said. ‘Like in the chocolate.’
‘Eh?’ said Dougie.
‘Is that Will?’ asked Andy.
‘What’s he saying?’ said Stu.
It was the one piece of information I’d failed to pass on to Dougie after my heart-to-heart with the Major. I didn’t think it had been important, hadn’t figured upon it having
a piece to play in the puzzle until it was there before my eyes.
‘Hershey as in Josh Hershey,’ I said, sighing as I recognised the tragic parallel. ‘He was the Major’s best mate, the guy who asked Ruby to marry him but she turned him
down for Chip.’
I turned to Dougie, his face pale as he caught the irony too. When he spoke to our friends, his voice was fragile.
‘She married the Major’s best mate.’
‘The Major’s mate,’ tutted Stu. ‘Worst. Friend. Ever.’
NINE
Beggars and Blackmailers
I don’t know whether it was my inspired catch on the whole Hershey thing that did it, but a distinct thaw in my relationship with Dougie followed. He no longer ignored
me, answering questions in a fashion, either with nods, single-syllable words or reluctant grunts. So long as we stuck to the topic of ghostly mysteries, we were on safe ground, but anything
regarding family or friends was strictly off limits. For me to bring up Lucy Carpenter or Mr Hancock would’ve been insane. We weren’t best mates – I doubted we ever would be again
– but we were talking, and that was something.
Dougie stood by the hob, the saucepan of beans bubbling, as he pasted butter over four slices of toast, two for each plate on the work surface.
‘So we’re calling in on the Major at some point in the next few days?’ I asked optimistically.
‘Mmm.’
‘We need to tell him what we’ve discovered about Ruby.’
‘Yup.’
‘I was also wondering – and shoot me down if this sounds too stupid – could we revisit the railway station? Perhaps in daylight? Check out the theory that the
Lamplighter’s cursed to remain there and can’t leave? It’d be good to know for sure.’
Dougie said nothing, taking the saucepan off the heat and carrying it over the plates of toast. He poured the gloop out on to the slices of steaming bread as I yammered on.
‘See, I’m wondering if there’s some way we can banish him? Exorcise him like Reverend Singer suggested that time? Stu says his dad knows people, right? Getting an evil spirit
vanquished once and for all has to be a good thing. I’d call it a win for us if it worked.’
Dougie clattered the pan on to the hob. He turned to me, his face humourless.
‘There
is
no “us” any more, Will. You were always the bright one, surely you can see this? We’re stuck together, like it or lump it. We can move on, but I
can’t forgive and forget what you said.’
‘Mate, we’ve both made mistakes, said some dumb things—’
‘Stop calling me “mate”, Will. We’ll go and see the Lamplighter, like you suggested.’ He picked up the two plates, cutlery in his shirt pocket. He cocked his head
and smiled. ‘Who knows? If we
can
banish his ghost, perhaps that’s the good deed that finally sends you on your way, eh?’
I didn’t reply as he walked away. It seemed he took a touch too much pleasure from that last comment.
‘You can but hope,’ I whispered, before following him through to the lounge.
Mr Hancock was already hunched forward in his armchair, cutting a corner off a slice of bean-topped toast. He was putting it away, clearly hungry. I wondered when he’d last had a meal. The
empty bottles were visible behind the chair, as were the pills he took, the bottle sitting on the cabinet beside him.
Dougie sat on the sofa, plate in lap, less enthusiastic with the feast before him. They ate in silence for a minute, Mr Hancock’s gaze fixed upon his plate.
‘When are you going back to work, Dad?’
Mr
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