The Witchstone Ghosts by Emily Randall Jones EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Emily Randall Jones
- Language: English
- Genre:Mystery Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
If I’m honest, Autumn thought, I’d quite like to be the same as everybody else.
She was standing on an underground tube station platform with a
gentleman in a top hat on one side of her and a woman in overalls on the other.
They were talking at the same time, because both were competing for her
Anyone alive watching Autumn would’ve seen a small twelve-year-old girl
with large, sea-tinted eyes and wild dark curls stuffed under a mustard bobble
hat. Anyone alive would have assumed Autumn was absorbed in her book,
when in fact she’d read the same sentence forty-three times because Overalls
Ghost was singing Second World War songs in her ear and Top Hat Ghost was
moaning about King Edward VII.
A guttural roar and a flash of lights and the tube train rumbled through the
tunnel. The carriage doors swept open with a beep and Autumn dashed nimbly
inside, squeezing herself into a corner. The ghosts, unable to leave the station,
chased the train the length of the platform as it departed, swooshing through
waiting commuters and stone pillars until they stopped dead at an advert for
Phew. There were too many passengers squashed together with bulky coats
and bags for a ghost to reach her here. She briefly considered just going round
on the tube all day instead of going to school, but they’d call Mum – again –
and she’d have to make up a reason – again – and quite frankly it was easier to
just show up and hope nobody noticed her.
The tube juddered. Stuffing the decoy book back into her school bag,
Autumn pulled out a pen and brown notebook and scribbled as best she could
without fully extending her elbows.
ARCHWAY TUBE STATION, SOUTHBOUND PLATFORM
Top Hat Ghost
She decided to omit ‘both told me to beware’ because recently ghosts had
loved telling her to beware. It was one of their things and hardly worth noting
In the past six months she’d had to stop walking to school because of
Wailing Park Ghost, stop getting the bus because of Conductor Ghost that kept
asking for her ticket, and use a different tube station because Christian the
Tufnell Park Ghost had been particularly noisy about the upcoming apocalypse.
Granted, he was one of her usuals. But he’d been a lot chattier recently.
But it wouldn’t get to her today. Today was special. She would go through
anything to get to that evening, because finally Dad was coming home.
He’d been leading the West Country birding tours for over a month now.
He’d never ventured as far as Devon or Cornwall before, and even though he’d
stopped by a phone box once a week or so (Mum thought mobile phones sent
information to the government and had banned them) – ‘Wrynecks today, it’s
migration time!’, ‘Went to a pub with a well for a table!’ – they’d not heard
much and she missed the very bones of him. Tonight they were cycling to
Hampstead Heath to spot barn owls by moonlight and eat sandwiches under
Dad was coming home.
She hugged that thought to her chest like a hot-water bottle.
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