Alex and I both knew he couldn’t stick around much longer. We knew it, but hadn’t talked about it, because the thought of being apart was too unfathomable. I wanted to believe that wherever Alex went, he would find me again. And wherever he was, I would be there too. It was as simple as that. Life hadn’t been very accommodating to us, so why settle for its parameters when we could roam the universe freely and together?
As Alex hadn’t been conjured by Doctor Ritter, he didn’t disappear along with the necromancer and Isobel. But soon after that night, I sensed him beginning to fade. Every time he appeared to me was shorter than the last, and I often caught him watching me with a strange expression as if trying to commit my features, my voice, my every movement, to memory. And who could blame him? Neither of us knew when we’d see each other again so we had to make every moment count.
When it came to our last night, I had imagined us tearing each other’s clothes off like in some romance drama. Instead, we lay on my bed facing each other, our hands entwined and our eyes locked. We didn’t talk about the future. We didn’t want what little time we had left to be sullied by doubts and questions we couldn’t answer. As Alex nuzzled my neck, I took his hand and placed it over my heart as if I could meld us together. But something had changed. Alex already felt different under my touch, like he wasn’t completely present. Even the tip of his finger felt cold as it traced around my face. His paleness and marble stillness reminded me of a beautiful statue — trapped in time, neither living nor dead. After a while I noticed I could no longer hear him breathing. It made me wonder how amazing it would have been to have known Alex when he was alive. That was the one thing I envied Becky; she had known the living, breathing person.
All I knew was that I couldn’t lose him a second time. I had to find a way for us to stay connected. Even if I had my life to live, I couldn’t imagine doing it without Alex by my side. I didn’t want to. As I couldn’t exactly abandon the mortal world, I had to find another way. My abilities had been bestowed on me for a reason. While once upon a time I would have done anything to be rid of them and feel normal, I now found myself wanting to know more. The dead no longer frightened me; in some ways I felt more connected to them than to the living. If Becky had been able to communicate with me through dream sequences, then maybe that was where I’d meet Alex. It wasn’t exactly ideal, but for now it might have to do.
As usual, he read my thoughts. “If there is a way back, I will find it. I will never stop trying,” he murmured.
I believed him. I just didn’t know how I was going to fill the time while I waited. I knew everything life had to offer would be humdrum without Alex to share it with me.
“It’s okay if it’s weeks,” I said, “but what if it’s years or longer before I see you again?”
“You cannot think that way, Chloe. It will torment you.”
“How should I think of it then?”
“Think of it as only time.”
I should have felt a crushing sadness. Instead, a calm descended over me like I’d never felt before. As I slept, our spirits flew together through the universe, laughing and soaring and tumbling through time as if we knew no boundaries.
In the middle of the night I woke to find myself alone.
I opened my eyes to see a figure shrouded in mist standing right outside my window, looking at me while I slept. At first I thought it was Alex come to say goodbye, but as my vision cleared there was no mistaking the freckled girl in the starched apron with stray auburn curls falling from under her cap. It was Rebecca Burns. Her eyes travelled from my face to the drawer of my nightstand where I’d wrapped the brooch in a scarf and tucked it away. I knew what she wanted then; she had come to finish her story.
Becky stood there waiting until I pulled open the drawer and unwrapped the brooch for what would be my very last vision. I didn’t fight the drowsiness and as I stared into Becky’s eyes I let myself be transported back into her memories. Before I lay down, I saw myself standing outside the window beside her, even though I knew my body was still there in my bed. She took my hand, entwining her little cold fingers in mine, and I finally knew what bound us together. We had both loved Alexander Reade. Becky had only wanted to help him but instead had failed him. That sense of failure had tormented her into the afterlife. Now it was my turn. She was handing that responsibility over to me.
A gravel path opened in front of us with looming iron gates ahead. Hand in hand, we walked toward them together …
It has been many months since I’ve come anywhere near this house. I’ve been drawn to it many times before, but only today do I find the courage to venture onto the grounds …
It has been locked up ever since that horrible day, the servants all dismissed as there is no one for them to wait upon now. The garden has fallen into disrepair, the path choked with weeds. I feel like an interloper, trespassing on a site that no longer recognises me. Perhaps I am the first person to set foot here since it happened. An air of tragedy still hangs about Grange Hall as if it remembers all those young lives cut down in their prime. Who could have imagined it would end in so much heartache?
To my surprise the iron gates are not locked and give way easily when I push against them. I suppose there is no need to lock them these days. Nobody sets foot here willingly any more. I slip inside and walk along the once-familiar path until the house comes into view. It is like seeing an old friend who is much changed through hard times. To think it once intimidated me. Now it only looks cold and grey.
The villagers have talked of little else since the events of that day were revealed and with a scandal of this magnitude I believe they will talk of it for years to come. No one imagines I had any part to play and they will not believe me if I tell them. But I am more than content to live in the shadows. It has been six months and only now has the stabbing guilt begun to lessen. I tell myself things would have come unstuck with or without my involvement. After all, it was never about me to start with.
Even though the entire Reade family is now dead, it will never feel like they are truly gone. Some of the womenfolk in Wistings, coming home at eventide after working in the fields, claim to have witnessed sightings. Beatrice Barker told everyone she saw a dark-haired woman roaming the woods clutching a bundle of rags to her chest while Susanna Cummings saw a young cloaked gentleman keeping watch behind the gates.
I was fortunate enough to find a new situation and thus did not have to leave Wistings and work in the factories two towns over. The vicar and his wife are a young and kindly couple whose previous housemaid left them to marry a local farmer. It was Mrs Baxter who put in a good word for me although since leaving Grange Hall, I do not know what has become of her. Some say she went to live with her cousin by the seaside. I know how much she cared for this house and it would break her heart to see it now.
Due to my history, the vicar is very gentle and patient with me. He never raises his voice or scolds me when I’m caught distracted. His wife, Anna, is just the same. She is quite an accomplished woman and kind enough to have begun teaching me French. But despite the generosity, I can see the pity in both their eyes. In an attempt to help me, they even called the doctor in to see if he could ease the shock, but he said this sort of thing can only be healed with time.
At least while working here, I am able to visit my family more often. This household is not nearly as strict. The cottage is modest compared to Grange Hall but warm and welcoming nonetheless. I try to devote myself to my duties, but the crack of a pistol and the blue lips of a dead infant still haunt my dreams …
I think now that Alexander and Isobel Reade were doomed from the start. I will never quite be able to shake the blame that follows me, but in hindsight, what could I, a mere child unaccustomed to the ways of the world, have done to help them? I must not fixate on what cannot be changed. I refuse to let myself dwell on memories from that night. I prefer to remember the happier hours. When I think of Alexander, I shall think of him in the garden reading a book with threads
of gold in his hair where the sunlight touches it. Or I shall picture him at his easel with a paintbrush between his teeth, face upturned and blinking at the sky to determine where the light might fall.
Just like the angel in the painting, Alexander looks unhurried, as if he has all the time in the world …
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALEXANDRA ADORNETTO famously wrote her first novel The Shadow Thief when she was thirteen, and with her second series Halo went on to become a New York Times bestselling author. She now lives in Hollywood with all of the other misfits — and her miniature Yorkie called Boo Radley.
You can find her online at
facebook.com/AlexandraAdornetto
ALSO BY ALEXANDRA ADORNETTO
Halo
Hades
Heaven
Ghost House
(also published as Lament)
COPYRIGHT
Angus&Robertson
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia
First published in Australia in 2017
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Alexandra Adornetto 2017
The right of Alexandra Adornetto to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
Adornetto, Alexandra, author.
Haunted / Alexandra Adornetto.
ISBN: 978 0 7322 9934 7 (paperback)
ISBN: 978 1 4607 0310 6 (ebook)
Ages 12+
Ghost stories.
Apparitions—Juvenile fiction.
Interpersonal relations—Juvenile fiction.
A823.4
Cover design by Darren Holt, HarperCollins Design Studio
Cover images: Girl by Jessica Truscott; Los Angeles Orphanage by University of Southern California
Alexandra Adornetto, Haunted
(Series: # )
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