row of doorbells beside the main door. Morag tried to press the bell of the room they wanted, but her finger passed right through it.
“You’ll need a lot of practice before you can do that sort of thing,”explained Gibbs, as he leant through her and pressed the buzzer.
They waited for a few minutes and just when they were about to try the bell again, Arthur opened the door. “Gibbs!”he exclaimed,“How nice to see you, it’s been at least fifty years; and who is your young friend?”
Chapter Sixteen
Finding Arthur
Iona was elated, her ghost walk had been a success. She couldn’t believe that the sightseers had accepted her stories.
She had even livened up the dull bits of the walk where Arthur would talk about the history of the streets and historic residents. At these points Iona made up stories about serial-killers, carnivorous dustbins, and a nineteenth-century lady naturalist who had pressed flowers in life, and in death pressed lost tourists between the pages of her gigantic book. Iona described how she had pressed Australians, Germans, French and Japanese, and, with a cross look at the large American couple who kept asking awkward questions, added,“all she needs to complete her collection is a couple from the United States.”
When the walk finished Iona had hurried down to the tiny South Bank office of‘London Sightseeing Ghost Walks,’but the office had been closed and it was next morning before she had found anyone there.
William, the man she had met before in the HQ, was there at ten the following day. He looked horrified as Iona told him about Arthur’s absence, and even more horrified when she told him that she had taken his walk herself.
“How old are you young lady?”
Iona hesitated,“eighteen.”
“The truth.”
“OK, OK, sixteen. But I’m very old for my age.”
“Blimey!”William ran a hand over his balding head. “If the Police found out I had a sixteen-year-old girl looking after a group of tourists I’d be finished.”
“It wasn’t my fault,”protested Iona.
“No young lady, I don’t suppose it was. I’m not cross with you, it’s blinking Arthur I’m cross with.” William sighed deeply “He’s my best walker, but his heart hasn’t been in it lately.”
“Can I’phone him to see if he’s OK?”asked Iona as she took her mobile phone from her pocket.
“Sorry love,”shrugged William,“I haven’t got a number for him.”
“What about an address?”
William consulted his address book. “Flat thirteen, Shelly Apartments, Bloch Road.” He paused for a moment. “Not a good area for a young girl like you. I’ll call in on him in my lunch hour, make sure he’s going to take his tours today. He’d better have a blinking good reason for missing his walk!”
Iona didn’t argue, but she repeated the address over and over in her head as she bid William a hasty goodbye and ran to the nearest newsagent to look up Bloch Road in a London A to Z.
Chapter Seventeen
‘We’re for vengeance’
“So how long ago did you die?” Morag asked Gibbs as they turned away from Arthur’s road. They were walking through roads illuminated by the sickly yellow glow of the street-lights.
“W-well, let me think…It must be five... no, six hundred years.” The medieval minstrel sighed deeply. “I’ve been dead longer than I’ve been alive. My life is just a distant m-memory now.”
“Och, goodness me!” Morag looked startled. “I didn’t think I’d be hanging around like this forever. I want to be with my Harold again.” Her thoughts returned to her late husband. “I thought my death would reunite us, but he seems further awa’than ever. My poor wee hen!”
She shook her head, straightened up, and spoke to herself,“What would Harold say? He’d say,‘Pull yourself together you daft wee woman,’and he’d be right.”
She looked back at Gibbs.“Six hundred years eh?” She forced a
“You’ll need a lot of practice before you can do that sort of thing,”explained Gibbs, as he leant through her and pressed the buzzer.
They waited for a few minutes and just when they were about to try the bell again, Arthur opened the door. “Gibbs!”he exclaimed,“How nice to see you, it’s been at least fifty years; and who is your young friend?”
Chapter Sixteen
Finding Arthur
Iona was elated, her ghost walk had been a success. She couldn’t believe that the sightseers had accepted her stories.
She had even livened up the dull bits of the walk where Arthur would talk about the history of the streets and historic residents. At these points Iona made up stories about serial-killers, carnivorous dustbins, and a nineteenth-century lady naturalist who had pressed flowers in life, and in death pressed lost tourists between the pages of her gigantic book. Iona described how she had pressed Australians, Germans, French and Japanese, and, with a cross look at the large American couple who kept asking awkward questions, added,“all she needs to complete her collection is a couple from the United States.”
When the walk finished Iona had hurried down to the tiny South Bank office of‘London Sightseeing Ghost Walks,’but the office had been closed and it was next morning before she had found anyone there.
William, the man she had met before in the HQ, was there at ten the following day. He looked horrified as Iona told him about Arthur’s absence, and even more horrified when she told him that she had taken his walk herself.
“How old are you young lady?”
Iona hesitated,“eighteen.”
“The truth.”
“OK, OK, sixteen. But I’m very old for my age.”
“Blimey!”William ran a hand over his balding head. “If the Police found out I had a sixteen-year-old girl looking after a group of tourists I’d be finished.”
“It wasn’t my fault,”protested Iona.
“No young lady, I don’t suppose it was. I’m not cross with you, it’s blinking Arthur I’m cross with.” William sighed deeply “He’s my best walker, but his heart hasn’t been in it lately.”
“Can I’phone him to see if he’s OK?”asked Iona as she took her mobile phone from her pocket.
“Sorry love,”shrugged William,“I haven’t got a number for him.”
“What about an address?”
William consulted his address book. “Flat thirteen, Shelly Apartments, Bloch Road.” He paused for a moment. “Not a good area for a young girl like you. I’ll call in on him in my lunch hour, make sure he’s going to take his tours today. He’d better have a blinking good reason for missing his walk!”
Iona didn’t argue, but she repeated the address over and over in her head as she bid William a hasty goodbye and ran to the nearest newsagent to look up Bloch Road in a London A to Z.
Chapter Seventeen
‘We’re for vengeance’
“So how long ago did you die?” Morag asked Gibbs as they turned away from Arthur’s road. They were walking through roads illuminated by the sickly yellow glow of the street-lights.
“W-well, let me think…It must be five... no, six hundred years.” The medieval minstrel sighed deeply. “I’ve been dead longer than I’ve been alive. My life is just a distant m-memory now.”
“Och, goodness me!” Morag looked startled. “I didn’t think I’d be hanging around like this forever. I want to be with my Harold again.” Her thoughts returned to her late husband. “I thought my death would reunite us, but he seems further awa’than ever. My poor wee hen!”
She shook her head, straightened up, and spoke to herself,“What would Harold say? He’d say,‘Pull yourself together you daft wee woman,’and he’d be right.”
She looked back at Gibbs.“Six hundred years eh?” She forced a
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