Organ Music by Margaret Mahy Page B

street.’
    â€˜When can we get out of hospital?’ asked Harley. ‘Not that I’m in a hurry,’ he added quickly. His big sister had been to see him once, but his father had not been in at all. David thought Harley must be feeling deserted.
    â€˜You both seem well recovered from the drug Winnie Finney gave you in the coffee, but they want to keep an eye on you for one more night. We’ll collect you both tomorrow,’ said David’s father. He hesitated, then glanced at his watch. ‘Actually Harley, your mother is flying in from Melbourne at this very moment.’
    There was a short silence.
    â€˜What’s she coming for?’ Harley muttered at last.
    â€˜She was dreadfully upset when she heard about your adventure,’ said David’s father. ‘I know it won’t be easy for you, but I think you should try hard – very hard – to be nice to her. And we’ve arranged for you to stay with us for a few days. I understand your father is having a hard time at work – at least, he’s too busy to look after you properly.’
    â€˜Ha!’ said Harley. ‘He’s sick of me. He wants a different sort of kid.’ David could see he was struggling not to cry. ‘I’d like to come, though,’ he added quickly. ‘And – and it’ll be okay, seeing Mum again, I mean.’
    â€˜It’s because of her you knew about that organ music,’ said David. ‘And that music was partly what made Winnie Finney see Quinta.’
    â€˜Quinta?’ asked his father. David and Harley looked at one another and fell silent. The two brain-dead young men had been found in the room off the mortuary, but there had been no sign of any other victims. For some reason Quinta was a secret that could not be talked about – except between themselves.
    â€˜David ... ’ Harley said when David’s parents had gone, after hugging both boys and promising to collect them as soon as possible. Harley almost never used David’s name. Usually he just said, ‘Hey you!’
    David looked over at him.
    â€˜She ... she sort of saved our lives twice over, didn’t she?’ Harley said. ‘Quinta, I mean.’
    â€˜Suppose so,’ said David. ‘I think if we’d got into those beds and gone to sleep ... well, we wouldn’t ever have woken up again. First she stopped Dr Fabrice and then she stopped Winnie Finney.’
    â€˜She sure did,’ said Harley, shuddering.
    â€˜Lucky for us the firemen were true forestry people – nothing to do with any international syndicate,’ said David.
    â€˜Lucky for us they called the police,’ Harley exclaimed, but he was not really thinking about their escape. ‘I know all that. But listen! Before Quinta frightened Winnie Finney to death she said she could only be seen because we believed in ghosts, didn’t she? She somehow worked through us. And we worked through her. You sort of slung words ... like, powerful words ... at Winnie Finney and she – she somehow gave the words extra power – ghost power. They hit him like bullets.’
    â€˜I don’t believe in ghosts,’ sighed David. ‘I keep on telling you that. Well, I suppose I just might believe in them in a sort of way from now on, but I didn’t believe in them last night. I’ve never believed in them.’
    Harley sighed as well. ‘I do,’ he said simply. ‘I always have. I pretended I didn’t, because people, you know, my father and sister and other people – you too – always slung off at me.’
    David thought about this.
    â€˜Well,’ he said at last, speaking rather drowsily, ‘you believe in ghosts and I read about them. It’s part of the same thing, I suppose.’
    But Harley did not answer. He had fallen asleep with his hair sticking up like the crest of a startled cockatoo.
    And within another minute David had fallen