Hunted by Adam Slater

know when you were born.”
    Callum shook his head. “People remember the day you were born, not the exact time—or if there was a full moon.”
    Melissa paused. “What about your mum’s family?”
    â€œThey’re all in Cornwall. I haven’t seen them since she died three years ago …” Callum trailed off. He didn’t need a vision of the future to know what Melissa would want to know next%—how she had died. But he realized he didn’t mind telling her. Telling her about the ghosts had been harder.
    â€œI haven’t seen them since my mum’s funeral,” Callum said. “They never liked Dad and they shut Mum out after she married. When Dad left she stayed up north, because she had a good job. She was like me, I guess, a bit of a loner—an outdoor type. I suppose that’s where I get it. She was into mountaineering and that sort of thing. She was killed on a rock-climbing trip in the Pennines along with three other people. I was supposed to go too, but that morning I decided to go and play cricket instead.”
    â€œMust be the worst thing ever, losing your mum.”
    â€œWell, you learn to live with it. But I still miss her.”
    Melissa hesitated. “When you see ghosts, do you—”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œI wondered if maybe you could ask when you were born.”
    Callum shook his head. “I’ve never seen her. Besides, I can’t talk to ghosts. Most of the time they don’t even know I’m there.”
    Most of the time, he thought.
    The conversation came to an awkward halt.
    â€œI know,” said Melissa suddenly. “The time when you were born must be on your birth certificate.”
    â€œMaybe,” admitted Callum. “But I’ve no idea where it is. Besides, we don’t need a piece of paper to say I’m a chime child. I think you’ve already proved that. And I don’t think Gran would be convinced anyway. She doesn’t believe in magic or anything like that.”
    â€œAll the kids at school say she’s a witch!” Melissa blurted, her big eyes very wide again.
    â€œWell, they say that about you too,” Callum retorted. It was true, and Melissa must have known it. “And they say she’s a gypsy, which is rubbish, and they say Mr. Gower has an artificial leg, which I bet is also rubbish.”
    â€œYou can sort of see why people might think your gran’s a witch,” argued Melissa. “I mean, living out here in the middle of nowhere with only you and the cat.”
    â€œHaving a cat doesn’t make her a witch, any more than wearing crystals makes you one!” Callum snapped. “She doesn’t know a thing about the supernatural—after I saw the Grim I asked her if there were any local legends about Marlock and she told me to look at a book of old photos of Stockport!”
    â€œSounds like she’s in denial,” said Melissa. “A bit like you. Or else she’s hiding something.”
    Callum squirmed uncomfortably. He hadn’t forgotten how strangely interested Gran had been when he told her about being followed by the Churchyard Grim, even though she’d tried to explain it away. And then there was the crumbling black and silver book hidden on the ledge above the window….
    â€œDon’t go in for a career as a spy,” Melissa said. “Because your poker face is rubbish. What are you thinking about?”
    â€œBooks,” said Callum, tracing his fingertips over the Dictionary of the Supernatural .
    Melissa looked around the room. “You said your gran was only into gardening books and novels. Does she have other books here?”
    â€œI’ve only seen one,” Callum admitted. “But yes. She was looking at it last night. She keeps it hidden. I saw her taking it down to have a look at it.”
    â€œWere you asking her about the Grim last night? Maybe that’s what she was looking