Ways to See a Ghost by Emily Diamand Page B

sort of shrugging, and Cally smiled at me. “And I’m sure Gray doesn’t want to be left at home, all by himself.”
    “I’m fine.”
    I mean, Dad’s been leaving me home alone for years. Not that I tell Mum, cos she’d be just the same as Cally. Like, Mum’s
always
at home when I am, always gets me to places on time, always has food in. When she got together with Brian, I didn’t even meet him for the first three months, because she said she wanted to wait until she was sure about him. They’ve been going out for years now; he’s probably going to be my stepdad.
    Anyway, Cally was doing her Mum thing.
I
knew she wasn’t going to walk out the door and leave Isis, but Dad tried it on anyway. Gave her his pleading look.
    “Couldn’t Isis stay here with Gray?” he asked. “They’d be all right for a couple of hours.”
    Cally looked like he’d suggested killing us and stuffing us in the bin.
    “We can’t leave the children by themselves!” she cried. She took his hand. “After… what happened,” she said quietly, “I thought you understood how I feel.”
    Then Dad went red, which he never does.
    “Yes, of course,” he mumbled.
    Actually, it wasn’t so bad, because I like the Downs. They’re these hills, about ten miles away. Not mountains or anything, but everywhere else around here is really low down, so there’s not many places you get a view. And the wind rushes in your ears, the way it does on high-up places, and sheep
baa
in the distance, making everything sound lonely. Along the top of the Downs is the Ridgeway, which is a track that’s been used since the Stone Age, so you’re walking where mammoth hunters used to, or King Arthur, or whoever.
    Normally I like it up on there, especially in spring, and we used to go loads, me and Dad. But there’s no way
anyone
could’ve enjoyed the walk that day. I mean, trailing after Dad and Cally while they held hands and face-sucked each other.
    It was disgusting.
    Dad wasn’t happy either. He kept checking back on me and Isis, like he was hoping we’d disappear. And Isis was her usual chatty self, meaning she said about two words the whole time. I don’t think she got outside much, because she walked round every puddle, like she was worried about getting her shoes muddy.
    Anyway, when we reached Hinner Wood, Dad had his brilliant idea. It’s only a little wood, and mostly beech trees. You know, with straight grey trunks, and bright green leaves above. But when you get in, it doesn’t matter it’s small. The trees all lift their branches way up, and the light flickers down through them. Every step is a crunch on last year’s leaves, and there’s something really… well just
something
about the trees. It makes you happy to be there.
    Dad and Cally were waiting at the edge of the woodland for me and Isis to catch up. He had his hand around Cally’s waist, her head was on his shoulder. She was gazing up at the trees, and going on.
    “You can really sense the natural spirits in places like this,” she gushed. “They’re more powerful where the land is untouched by humans.”
    “Actually,” I said, “people come and look after these woods.” There’s this conservation group, they come here loads. Tidy up rubbish, clear bracken or chop down trees they think are dangerous. I even joined a couple of years back, but they wouldn’t let me hold anything with a sharp edge ‘in case I hurt myself’, so I only went once.
    Of course, Cally ignored me.
    “The Native Americans understand,” she said, “and othertribal peoples. The spirits of plants and animals, of places even, are very powerful and wise. But we’ve lost touch with them in our modern, artificial world.”
    “I’m in touch with
my
nature,” said Dad in his smoochy voice, and she giggled and blushed. He turned to me. “And Gray is too. He’s a bird expert, aren’t you?”
    “No,” I said, because I knew what he was planning.
    “Yes, he is,” said Dad. “He’s got his