about to show the email to the girls at break on Thursday morning when Tash’s phone beeped telling her that she had a text. It was from Dave.
We’ve found her. Henrietta Gleeson, born Liverpool 1882.
‘No way!’ I said.
‘Wow,’ said Effy.
‘Still doesn’t mean anything,’ I said.
‘Course it does,’ said Effy. ‘It means she existed .’
‘Yes but doesn’t mean that I was her.’
‘It’s a lead,’ said Tash. ‘At least we can use it to find out more about her. I’m going to call Dave.’
‘Now, what were you going to show us?’ asked Effy as Tash called Dave on her mobile.
I gave her the printed sheet with Finn’s email.
‘Hmm. Tell him what they say about him? Brilliant,’ said Effy after she’d read it. ‘I think he likes you.’
‘No way. He flirts because he fancies himself as a playboy. I am so not interested.’
‘Yeah right. So not interested.’
‘I’m interested in doing the article though,’ I said. ‘It will be great for my CV when I apply for journalism courses.’
‘It might be fun too,’ said Effy ‘We could take opposing sides – I’ll be for it, you can be against.’
‘No problem there then,’ I agreed.
‘And I see Ben’s to take photos,’ said Effy.
‘Yeah, maybe he could take some of the invisible guides and dead spirits.’
‘Haha,’ said Effy. ‘And for your information, there are some photos where a spirit has been captured.’
‘Yes, they’re called set-ups, spoofs, fakes, Effy.’
Effy stuck her tongue out at me. ‘Us humans don’t know everything, you know.’
Tash finished her call. Her face was flushed with excitement. ‘Dave and his uncle are still on the case. He says that now we have a date of birth, they should be able to find a date and
place of death too. That should tell us if Henrietta moved from Liverpool and once we know that, they can maybe work out where she lived for most of her life. Dave said that then they can look at
the census records and if she was in the same house as Howard on one of the nights of the census then we’ll have his surname. Yay.’
‘But, Tash,’ I said, ‘even though this is all fascinating, it doesn’t really tell us anything. I could pick a name randomly from the ethers or a name off a gravestone, an
old-fashioned-sounding name like . . . Alice Marshfield or Violet Porter or something, and I bet you if you looked long enough, you’d find someone with that name in the records. The fact that
Dave’s uncle found a Henrietta Gleeson, so what?’
‘Who’s Alice Marshfield? Is she another of your past lives?’ asked Tash.
Effy playfully thumped her but ignored her question. ‘It might all lead to Howard,’ she said to me.
‘Yes but even if we found someone called Howard and he lived in the same place as Henrietta, again, so what? They might have been neighbours of Betty’s gran and she remembered their
names.’
Effy folded her arms. ‘I’m not giving up,’ she said.
‘Me neither,’ said Tash. And we should call you “Jo Yes But” from now on because that’s what you keep saying: yes but, yes but.’
Yes but – I mean, look, I don’t want to be a killjoy but I don’t want you or Dave wasting your time. We’ve got a lot of studying to do this year, let’s focus on
that because at least that will help up in this life.’
‘Now you are being a killjoy,’ said Tash. ‘This is way more fun than homework.’
‘Not to me,’ I said. ‘It’s not going to wash as an excuse if we get low grades, like, sorry, Miss, I was researching a person I was in a past life.’
‘OK, then look at it this way,’ said Tash. ‘You do the research for the magazine, and write a good article because that will help towards your CV, and Effy, me and the
boys will do the Henrietta stuff. Deal?’
I couldn’t argue with that. ‘Deal.’ Usually the students asked to write articles for Chillaxin were in the Upper Sixth whilst team members in the Lower Sixth, like Effy
and
We’ve found her. Henrietta Gleeson, born Liverpool 1882.
‘No way!’ I said.
‘Wow,’ said Effy.
‘Still doesn’t mean anything,’ I said.
‘Course it does,’ said Effy. ‘It means she existed .’
‘Yes but doesn’t mean that I was her.’
‘It’s a lead,’ said Tash. ‘At least we can use it to find out more about her. I’m going to call Dave.’
‘Now, what were you going to show us?’ asked Effy as Tash called Dave on her mobile.
I gave her the printed sheet with Finn’s email.
‘Hmm. Tell him what they say about him? Brilliant,’ said Effy after she’d read it. ‘I think he likes you.’
‘No way. He flirts because he fancies himself as a playboy. I am so not interested.’
‘Yeah right. So not interested.’
‘I’m interested in doing the article though,’ I said. ‘It will be great for my CV when I apply for journalism courses.’
‘It might be fun too,’ said Effy ‘We could take opposing sides – I’ll be for it, you can be against.’
‘No problem there then,’ I agreed.
‘And I see Ben’s to take photos,’ said Effy.
‘Yeah, maybe he could take some of the invisible guides and dead spirits.’
‘Haha,’ said Effy. ‘And for your information, there are some photos where a spirit has been captured.’
‘Yes, they’re called set-ups, spoofs, fakes, Effy.’
Effy stuck her tongue out at me. ‘Us humans don’t know everything, you know.’
Tash finished her call. Her face was flushed with excitement. ‘Dave and his uncle are still on the case. He says that now we have a date of birth, they should be able to find a date and
place of death too. That should tell us if Henrietta moved from Liverpool and once we know that, they can maybe work out where she lived for most of her life. Dave said that then they can look at
the census records and if she was in the same house as Howard on one of the nights of the census then we’ll have his surname. Yay.’
‘But, Tash,’ I said, ‘even though this is all fascinating, it doesn’t really tell us anything. I could pick a name randomly from the ethers or a name off a gravestone, an
old-fashioned-sounding name like . . . Alice Marshfield or Violet Porter or something, and I bet you if you looked long enough, you’d find someone with that name in the records. The fact that
Dave’s uncle found a Henrietta Gleeson, so what?’
‘Who’s Alice Marshfield? Is she another of your past lives?’ asked Tash.
Effy playfully thumped her but ignored her question. ‘It might all lead to Howard,’ she said to me.
‘Yes but even if we found someone called Howard and he lived in the same place as Henrietta, again, so what? They might have been neighbours of Betty’s gran and she remembered their
names.’
Effy folded her arms. ‘I’m not giving up,’ she said.
‘Me neither,’ said Tash. And we should call you “Jo Yes But” from now on because that’s what you keep saying: yes but, yes but.’
Yes but – I mean, look, I don’t want to be a killjoy but I don’t want you or Dave wasting your time. We’ve got a lot of studying to do this year, let’s focus on
that because at least that will help up in this life.’
‘Now you are being a killjoy,’ said Tash. ‘This is way more fun than homework.’
‘Not to me,’ I said. ‘It’s not going to wash as an excuse if we get low grades, like, sorry, Miss, I was researching a person I was in a past life.’
‘OK, then look at it this way,’ said Tash. ‘You do the research for the magazine, and write a good article because that will help towards your CV, and Effy, me and the
boys will do the Henrietta stuff. Deal?’
I couldn’t argue with that. ‘Deal.’ Usually the students asked to write articles for Chillaxin were in the Upper Sixth whilst team members in the Lower Sixth, like Effy
and
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