Ways to See a Ghost by Emily Diamand Page A

people have so little nobility of spirit these days.” Now she could see the wall, the air, quite clearly through his body. “But you cannot avoid attention forever, Isis Dunbar. You’re like a blazing fire, this side of the veil.”
    “Attention from who?” she asked. Mandeville put a finger to his lips, and disintegrated into sudden particles, which dropped lazily onto the wooden floor then vanished.
    Angel crept out from around Isis.
    “He horrid,” she said. “I glad him
goway
.”

    It was 7.30 p.m. by the time the meeting finally ended. Outside in the street, the last light was fading. Isis sat in the kitchen, eating her way through the biscuits while thinking furious thoughts about ghosts. She had to watch telly for very young children, because Angel cried out, “Too scary!” if she put on anything but the squeakiest, silliest cartoons.
    “You’re a ghost,” muttered Isis, not that it made any difference.
    Eventually, the door into the dining room opened and Isis heard the members of the Welkin Society leaving.Thanking Philip Syndal, saying their goodbyes in the hallway.
    Cally came into the kitchen, holding Isis’s coat.
    “Come on, darling,” she said, “school tomorrow.”
    Philip Syndal followed after, his eyes flicking around the room, as if checking it was all right. His gaze ended on Isis.
    “Were you okay in here?” he asked.
    “Yes. Thank you,” she said.
    “Good,” he said, nodding slowly. Then he turned away, walking with Cally back into the hallway, and leaving Isis to follow.
    The front door was open, letting the evening in.
    “I’m so pleased you’ve joined us,” said Philip, taking Cally’s jacket from the coat stand, handing it to her. She looked awkward, yet pleased, as she put her arm into one of the sleeves. He held onto the coat as she put it on, so they were almost embracing. When he let go, Cally was in full blush.
    “I can’t tell you what this means to me,” she said. “I’m so grateful to you for nominating me.”
    Philip smiled, the dimples shifting in his face.
    “A medium of your ability? How could we not want you?”
    Cally beamed and wittered all the way up the streetas they walked back to their car, Angel skipping invisibly in front of them.
    “Philip’s so wonderful,” Cally said, “he has such a calming, beautiful presence. And his spirit guide is so powerful, so wise, just how he described it in his autobiography. Did you know, when he was a teenager he wanted to kill himself, but then this wise, ancient spirit came to him and showed him his true purpose in life? And Philip told me his spirit guide had singled me out personally…”
    Isis glanced back, and stopped. Philip Syndal was standing in his doorway, a dark silhouette. He lifted his hand, waving at them, and for a moment Isis thought she saw something else.
    Flying above his house, a shadow on the sky. Glowing into the furthest blue, shaped like a figure swimming in the night or maybe some strange, giant bird. Circling over the street. Isis blinked, and it was gone.
    Cally opened the car door. “What is it? Have you left something behind?”
    “No,” Isis said. “Nothing.”

I did tell Isis about them. The other deaths on The Database, I mean. It was on one of Dad and Cally’s dates, when me and Isis had to drag along after.
    Actually, you should have seen Dad’s face when Cally turned up at the door with Isis!
    “I thought…” said Dad. “Aren’t we going out for the day? A walk on the Downs, just the two of us?”
    “I know.” Cally wafted in, that way she does. “But I had to bring Isis. I couldn’t get a babysitter.”
    “She’s not actually a baby,” muttered my dad, but not loud enough for Cally to hear. Isis came creeping in then, like she didn’t want to be seen. She had on these really pale jeans and a fluffy pink jumper. Out of school uniform, she looked about eight.
    “Isis doesn’t mind coming with us, do you, darling?” said Cally. Isis wobbled her head,