This – he – was the distraction he’d been wanting.
“Time to commune with the dead,” William announced. “Let’s go bust some ghosts… or whatever.”
“Bust some ghosts?” Edward laughed. “Have you hit your head? Who is this William I’m speaking to?”
His comment single-handedly tilted William’s axis for a second. “Just a tortured soul wanting to help another. That’s all.”
Edward smiled wider at that, eyes flickering from William’s forced smile, to his eyes, and the back to his mouth, where his gaze stayed. “One last try then, and if it doesn’t work, we pack it in. I won’t hold up any more of your time. I’ll pack up and leave you to your life, and you can forget I ever walked into it. That’s a promise.”
Somehow, that wasn’t at all what William wanted to hear out of Edward’s mouth. In fact, he found himself lying again when he replied. “Then it’s a deal.”
Whereas his mind, the silent voice, the one only for him, screamed,let’s hope it works.
According to Edward, communing with the dead required a full belly. Not that it mattered the first time they tried it, nor was William even theslightestbit hungry. Edward didn’t notice that William hadn’t touched his eggs, not until he’d finished with his own plate and asked if he could polish off the rest. William agreed, glad his eating habits weren’t being scrutinised.
It was William’s request not to conduct the séance – if that’s what he could call it – in the bedroom again. Separating church from state gave him some internal ease. He’d rather the bedroom wasn’t spoiled by the potential of sinister energies, especially if Edward did leave, and William had to go back to dwelling alone.
“This is your house. You make the decisions,” Edward had said, to William’s displeasure. He would’ve preferred Edward still took control of the situation, but then again, itwashis home. He had to start claiming it, especially since Edward could be leaving by the end of the day.
“What will help our chances of getting through… tothem?” William asked, mentally mapping out the floorplan he’d last seen online when he put his offer in for the property. “I mean, does it matter where we do it, or is there a place that will make the connection stronger?”
William would regret asking that question because not but ten minutes later, they were making room for them both to sit in the attic.
What better place to speak with the dead than where the dead became, well, dead?
There was a noticeably different aura to the attic during the day. The single, rounded window let in enough light to cut through the gloom of the room. Dust motes danced in the beam, disturbed every time Edward swept through it. He didn’t seem as uncomfortable as William felt as he moved boxes and chests out of the way. The only objects he didn’t move were the chair and Teddy’s portrait, and that one upside-down crucifix they’d discovered during their first visit.
Opting to sit as far away from the solitary chair as possible, William took his place on the floor, crossing his legs and hugging his knees to his chest. That meant that Edward sat on the floor just in front the chair. It wasn’t that William exactly knew that the chair had anything to do with Robert’s suicide, but the placement of it near the beam with the frayed rope still wrapped around it certainly painted a picture.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Edward asked as he, too, got himself comfortable on the floor. “It’s not too late to back out.”
“Nope. No backing out is allowed,” William replied, nervously scanning the attic space. There were so many places for people to hide, let alone spirits. He wondered if any watched on now or if they hibernated during the daytime. He almost asked Edward, but he got into opening the board between them and cleansing the space with a quick prayer.
“There’s always time for consent, Will. Always.”
“Well, on that note, shouldn’t we have a plan of action or something?” William asked just as Edward lowered the back of his finger on the planchet.
His hesitation to copy wasn’t exactly a way to prolong beginning, but it certainly seemed as such. “I thinkyoushould try asking some questions first. It seemed to work last time. Whatever is lingering here seems connected to you, more than just having your name written on the manor’s deeds.”
“By seemed to work, do you mean the glass practically flew across the room?”
Edward swallowed hard, a sly smile creeping up the corner of his mouth. “Exactly. But this time, speak directly to the other side. Offer it your energy. Share it, and maybe that will be enough to make this work.”
“We don’t even know who it is communing with us.”
Robert Thomas, or Teddy Jones. Maybe those mysterious missing boys that Barbara mentioned.
Archie.
William was confident he saw Edward briefly glance behind him, even though he didn’t turn around. Just the shift of his eyes was enough of a suggestion. “Then that can be your first question. There’s only one person we know for certain of who died in Hanbury. We both have a strong hunch about who is haunting your home. Start with them, and then we can move on.”
“As easy as that, eh?” William rolled his shoulders, shook his hands and slowly lowered his finger to the planchet. “Okay. I’m ready.”
Both men began shifting the glass around the board in a clockwise motion. Edward didn’t prompt William to start speaking; in fact, he gave him the moments he required to gather a scrap of confidence.
William couldn’t help but feel utterly stupid. He hadn’t spoken yet because he was still toying with what to say. Do you say hello to a ghost? He wasn’t sure if he should greet it normally or put on some mystical deep voice to encourage communication. Ask about the weather? The thought of that last bit made him giggle slightly – not from humour but pure fear.
“Take your time,” Edward said, as if William wasn’t already doing just that. “You can’t rush perfection or something like that.”
