The Lost Baby: A Ghost Mystery Story (Second Hand Ghosts Book 2) (2 page)

BOOK: The Lost Baby: A Ghost Mystery Story (Second Hand Ghosts Book 2)
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Chapter 5

 

I
picked Emily up from school.

She
got in the back of the car and put her seat belt on.

“Mummy,
when you went to the funeral, did lots of people cry?” she asked.

“Not
many. Most people seemed happy,” I told her.

“Mummy,
what if someone wasn’t really dead. What if they fell into a deep sleep, like
Snow White, or Sleeping Beauty, and people thought they were dead. And then
they put them in a coffin, but they were really asleep. What would happen?”

“Doctors
check people to see if they’re dead,” I said.

Emily
was quiet for a while. “But what if you fell asleep, and we buried you. You
wouldn’t like that, would you?”

“No,
I wouldn’t,” I agreed.

“Then
I think that if you look like you’re dead, and the doctors say you’re dead,
I’ll put your phone in the coffin just in case you’re not. Then if you wake up,
you can phone me. Would that be okay?” Emily asked.

“That
sounds like a great plan,” I replied.

Emily
smiled and then said, “What’s for tea?”

We
arrived home. I showed Emily the food that Carol had packed for us. She
insisted on us having a picnic on the living room floor.

I’d
left the box of things that we’d found outside the shop inside my car. I didn’t
want any ghosts wandering around my house. I’d take it to the shop tomorrow and
sort it out.

Emily
went upstairs to play. I was tempted to open the champagne, but I resisted. I
might need it to console myself if Pam took over the shop.

I
heard a noise. It sounded like a baby crying. Emily had a doll that sounded
just like that. She must have left it out somewhere.

The
crying got louder. It was getting annoying. I looked around the living room.
Nothing. Then I checked the kitchen.

I
stopped and stared. The box that was supposed to be in my car was in the middle
of the floor.

And
it was open.

They
crying increased. It now seemed to be coming from upstairs.

I
raced up the stairs and into Emily’s room.

Emily
was on her bed. She had the crying doll on her lap. It was wrapped up in a
shawl that I’d never seen before.

“Shh,
shh,” Emily was cuddling the crying doll.

And
someone was cuddling Emily.

 

 

Chapter 6

 

An
old lady had her arms around Emily. She was softly singing a lullaby.

Emily
looked up at me and smiled, “Don’t be scared, Mummy, Sylvia is just singing to
me. She’s nice. She gave me this blanket. She said she made it for her baby,”

I
looked at Sylvia. She did look harmless but I could tell from the dead look in
her eyes that she was a ghost. I didn’t like the idea of a ghost cuddling my
daughter.

I
stepped forward and said hello to Sylvia. I noticed she was wearing an old
fashioned kind of night gown, a long one that buttoned up to the top.

The
ghost gave me a friendly smile, nodded towards Emily and said, “Do you like my
baby? She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“She’s
not your baby. She’s my baby,” I said gently.

Sylvia’s
arms seemed to tighten around Emily and she said, “No! She’s mine. You can’t
take her away from me!”

Emily
looked a bit worried. She turned her head a bit and said to Sylvia, “I’m not
your baby. That’s my mummy over there. Can you see her? We’ve got the same
colour hair.”

Sylvia
looked confused. Her arms dropped from Emily.

She
looked straight at me and said, “Then where’s my baby? What have you done with
her?”

“I
don’t know who your baby is?” I tried to explain.

A
baby started to cry.

“Can
you turn your doll off, I’m trying to talk to Sylvia,” I said to Emily.

“It’s
not my doll that’s crying,” Emily said.

Suddenly
Sylvia whooshed up from the bed and flew towards me.

“That’s
my baby crying! What have you done with her!”

Sylvia
flew straight through me and out of the door.

The
baby’s cries were getting louder and they sounded like they were coming from
downstairs. A few seconds later I heard the noise of things breaking.

“Stay
here,” I told Emily and I ran downstairs.

I
saw Sylvia in the living room. She was throwing things about and frantically
searching for something.

“Where
is she! I’ve lost her! My poor baby!” Sylvia wailed.

“Please
calm down!” I cried out.

She
wasn’t listening. She flew over to the box of things on the kitchen floor.

“Baby
clothes! These belong to my baby. You’ve got her somewhere! Where is she?”
Sylvia flew towards me, her dead eyes now looking black with anger.

“Stop
right there!” I shouted. “This is my house and you’re making a mess. I don’t
know anything about a missing baby but there isn’t one here.”

The
anger seeped out of Sylvia and she floated to the ground.

“But
those are my baby’s clothes. She must be somewhere nearby. Will you help me
find her?” Sylvia pleaded.

What
else could I say?

“Of
course I’ll help you.”

 

 

Chapter 7

 

The
next day I went back to work. Carol was already in the shop.

“Shall
we open up today? We’ve been closed long enough to be respectful to Rose. And
we don’t want to be losing any money,” Carol said.

“I
suppose we can open up. What happened with Pam yesterday?” I asked.

“She
hung around for ages. She got a tape measurer out and started going around the
shop with it. I told her that until she can prove that she owns the shop she
can clear off!” Carol said.

“I
really don’t want her as a boss. If Rose had made a will where do you think she
might have put it?” I asked.

“In
her knicker drawer, for all I know. She had a peculiar filing system. I used to
find receipts inside the biscuit tin. Shall we start having a look for it? We
might be lucky,” Carol suggested.

I
smiled. “Okay, but I’m not looking in her knicker drawer!”

We
started to look around the shop for the elusive will. I hadn’t forgotten about
Sylvia and her missing baby, I just didn’t know where to start looking. Sylvia
didn’t know when her baby was born, or what her name was. She was sure that
some of the baby clothes belonged to her baby – but I had no idea where they
had come from.

Sylvia
was in her fifties or sixties, her missing baby wouldn’t be a baby anymore.

The
door of the shop opened and a nervous looking woman stepped in. She was
probably in her early thirties.

Carol
walked over to her and asked if she could help.

“I
hope so,” the woman gave a little smile. “Did you find a box of baby clothes
yesterday? It might have been left outside your door.”

Carol
put her hands on her hips and glared at the woman, “Yes we did find a box. Kate
nearly broke her neck on it! We’re not a charity shop, you know. We don’t take
rubbish!”

“I’m
so sorry. My husband left them there. He shouldn’t have done that. I wonder if
I could have them back,” the woman said quietly.

Carol
yelled over to me, “Kate! What did you do with that box of rubbish?”

I
walked over to Carol, I didn’t want to be yelling in the shop. Not in front of
a customer anyway.

I
looked closer at the woman. Was this the lost baby that Sylvia told me about. I
peered a bit closer. I wasn’t sure if there was any family resemblance.

“I
took the box home,” I explained to the woman. “I meant to bring it back to the
shop today but I forgot. I can bring them back tomorrow if that would be any
good?”

The
woman looked as if she was about to cry. “Could I have the box back today? I’d
really like the clothes back as soon as I can. I can’t have children, you see.
Me and my husband have tried everything. He saw me looking at the baby clothes
the other day. He must have given them away because he saw how upset I was. The
clothes have been in my mum’s family for years.”

I
nodded. So this was the lost baby! Well, not a baby anymore. Maybe Sylvia had
something to say to her daughter and she needed me to tell her what it was.

“If
you give me your address I can call round in my lunch hour with the box. Would
that be okay?” I asked.

“Oh,
yes, thank you,” the woman smiled. She gave me her address and told me her name
was Julia Stephenson.

 I
promised to see her later and she left the shop, looking happier.

I
continued searching the shop for Rose’s will. As I did so I wondered what would
be the best way to tell Julia Stephenson that her dead mother was in my house.

 

Chapter 8

 

At
lunch time I rushed home and put the box of baby clothes in my car. Julia
didn’t live far away and it only took me five minutes to drive there.

I
was impressed with her house. It was a large modern detached house, possibly
with four or five bedrooms. The sort of house that Emily and I sometimes dreamt
about having. Although we’d have to insist that there was a swimming pool or we
just wouldn’t bother moving in.

I
parked in the private drive, picked the box up and got out of my car. I knocked
at the door.

An
angry looking man answered. His glare almost knocked me off me feet.

“Yes?”
he barked at me. Then he noticed the box I was holding. “Why have you brought
that here? We don’t want it. Take it away!”

“Julia
asked me to bring it round,” I said, trying not to be intimidated by him.

“I’m
Julia’s husband and I can tell you that she does not want that stuff. Goodbye!”

The
man looked like he was about to slam the door in my face. Someone pushed him to
one side.

It
was Julia. She held her hands out, “Thank you for bringing my things back. I
must apologise for my husband, he’s not always like this.”

I
handed the box to Julia. “Could I have a word with you? About something in the
box?”

The
last thing I wanted to do was go inside their house and be shouted at by the
angry husband, but I had told Sylvia I would find her lost baby.

Julia
opened the door wider and said, “Of course, please come in.”

She
set the box down in the hall and showed me into the front room. It looked clean
and beautifully furnished. It was difficult for me to appreciate it as Julia’s
husband was right behind me. I could hear him huffing angrily.

Julia
invited me to sit down on the sofa. She sat opposite me. Her husband sat next
to her and glared at me.

I
didn’t know how to begin so I just jumped in. “I think your mother is in my
house, and I think she has a message for you.”

Julia
frowned, “My mother’s in Spain. She sent me a text this morning.”

Oh.
So Sylvia wasn’t Julia’s mother. Or was she? Perhaps she was Julia’s real
mother and for some reason had to give her up for adoption. That would explain
Sylvia saying that her baby was lost.

This
was a delicate situation. How could I say this diplomatically? I couldn’t so I
just jumped in again.

“This
will sound crazy but I can see ghosts. It only started recently. And a woman, a
dead woman, is in my house and she’s looking for her baby. She turned up when I
took your baby things home so I think she is somehow related to you. Perhaps
your real mother?”

Mr
Stephenson jumped to his feet and shouted, “How dare you come here talking such
nonsense? What are you? Some sort of con woman trying to make us believe you
can see ghosts? Get out of our home! Now!”

He
stepped towards me. I stood up quickly and protectively held my bag in front of
me. I looked at Julia. She looked confused.

“I
don’t know why you’re saying these things. My mum is my real mum. Why would she
lie to me? That’s an awful thing to say. Please leave,” Julia said.

I
walked quickly out of the room. Mr Stephenson already had the front door open.

As
I stepped towards the door a photograph on the wall caught my eye.

I
gasped and pointed, “That’s her! That’s Sylvia, the ghost in my house!”

 

 

Chapter 9

 

Mr
Stephenson grabbed my elbow and tried to push me out of the door. I wriggled
free and called out to Julia.

“That’s
the woman. Please tell me who she is and then I’ll leave,” I said.

Julia
walked closer to the photograph and looked at the woman I was pointing at.

“It’s
a photo of my mum’s family when she was young. I don’t know who that woman is
though. Mum’s never spoken about her. Are you sure that’s the woman you’ve
seen?”

“Don’t
listen to her! She’s a charlatan!” Mr Stephenson said.

I
ignored him, “Please could you find out who she is? You don’t have to believe
that I can see ghosts. And I’m certainly not trying to trick you. Please,
Julia. This woman is trying to find her lost baby.”

Julia’s
face softened. “I’ll speak to my mum. Ghost or not, if a mum is looking for her
baby then I’ll help you.”

I
said thank you to Julia and took one more look at the photograph. It must have
been taken about 40 years ago judging by how young Sylvia looked. She looked
happy.

I
gave Julia my number. She said she’d phone me as soon as she’d spoken to her
mum.

I
drove back to the shop. Carol still hadn’t found Rose’s will.

I
couldn’t stop thinking about Sylvia and her baby.

Sylvia
turned up later just as I was putting Emily to bed. I told her I was still
trying to find her baby. She smiled and said, “I know you’ll find her. Thank
you.”

Sylvia
asked if she could cuddle Emily. Emily was okay with that even though she said
Sylvia gave cold cuddles.

The
baby blanket that belonged to Sylvia was still wrapped around Emily’s doll. I’d
forgotten all about it, I should have given it back to Julia

Julia
finally phoned me at 10 O’clock.

She
sounded upset.

“The
lady in the photo is my mum’s sister, Sylvia, like you said. Mum doesn’t talk
about her because Sylvia lived in a mental institution for most of her life.
Sylvia died in her sleep last year,” Julia explained.

“Did
Sylvia have a baby?” I asked.

“Yes,”
Julia said quietly, “But the baby died ten minutes after it was born.”

 

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