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“So you want my friend to murder him to settle the score? Andrew would hate himself and I’m never going to put him in that position.” I looked at Ryan for backup and found his brow creased. I gasped, my heart lurching. “You can’t be thinking about it?”

Ryan blinked out of his musings and took my hand. “No, of course not. I wouldn’t do that to Andrew. We’re not casual murderers.”

I smiled, squeezing his hand in relief.

“But…”

“Ryan, no. We leave Andrew out of this.”

“This might be the way to bring Andrew peace though, love.”

“What?”

“If we gave Gerald some comeuppance.” He shot a look at Ted. “Not murder.” Ted rolled his eyes and went back to twiddling the snowdrop. “Then maybe we could help free Andrew of his need for vengeance while also giving Gerald some of what he deserves. You heard what Andrew said upstairs—the answer might have just knocked on our door.”

I had to consider it. Andrew was miserable as he was, and if there was possibly a way to fix that…

“How would we do that though?”

Ryan glanced at Ted. “How much do you actually know about ghosts?”

twenty-four

Who's watching the door?

Owain

“Are we sure Gerald is going to find this place? He can’t even book himself a Jet2 holiday properly without you organising it.”

Ted gave Ryan another exasperated look.

Those seemed to be common, I’d noticed. Maybe one per minute. I didn’t get it myself; I thought Ryan was pretty hilarious. And just plain pretty.

And the question wasn’t misplaced.

Were we doing all of this for nothing?

“Gerald is resourceful where it counts.” Ted went back to peering out of the upstairs window. It was already dark, creeping into full night. “He wouldn’t have gotten this far otherwise, so don’t underestimate him.”

Ryan caught my eye behind his back and pulled a face.

Normally I would have laughed, but the tension in my body wouldn’t let me.

I glanced toward Andrew’s room, wondering if this was even going to work or if we were just traumatising him for nothing. But Andrew had agreed to the plan, and he was allowed his own autonomy, beyond the grave or not.

“Are you sure you laid down the circle correctly?” Ted asked Ryan.

He groaned long and loud. “Yes, Mum. For the hundredth time, I did exactly as you instructed me to on that bullet point clipboard you’ve got shoved up your arse.”

“No need to be snippy.”

“Me?! Snippy?”

I felt a tug at my sock as they bickered and I peered down, following the black trail to where Popty was peeking around the corner. He’d been doing it ever since Ted had arrived, which was very cute, but not exactly productive at this time.

Especially since Popty was supposed to be on lookout duty.

I hurried over. “What’s wrong?” I whispered.