Chasing Ghosts by Madalyn Morgan (best fantasy books to read .txt) 📕

hours being interrogated when I got back from Canada. Nothing has changed. I don’t know any more now than I knew then, so why does he want to see me again?’

‘I don’t know, Mrs Mitchell. The commander said to tell you he’ll send a car.’

‘All right!’ Claire put up her hands as if she was giving in. ‘Do you know what time?’ she asked, as calmly as she was able.

‘I’m afraid I don’t.’ He saluted and left.

Claire waited until she heard their car drive off, then locked and bolted the door.

CHAPTER TEN

The alarm clock rang at six o’clock. Claire, having hardly slept, had been up for two of hours. She had relegated the clothes she wore at Christmas to the laundry basket and added clean underwear, socks, jumpers and a pair of corduroy slacks to the clothes that remained in her suitcase. She checked that she had the relevant documents in her handbag, dropped it next to her case and sat on the bed.

In the stillness of dawn, she heard the sound of an approaching car. Its engine grew louder, stopped, and idled for a second, before it cut out altogether. She went to the window and drew back the curtain enough to see the street immediately in front of her house. Mitch’s grandmother was getting out of her car. Letting go of the curtain, Claire ran downstairs and opened the front door. ‘Good morning, Esther.’

‘Good morning, dear. Right!’ she said, looking around, ‘what can I do?’

‘Nothing. I’m pretty near ready to go,’ Claire said, returning to the bedroom with Esther hard on her heels. She looked through the drawers, grabbed a couple of pairs of Mitch’s socks and threw them on top of the clothes in her case. ‘New Year is always colder than November and December,’ she said, ‘best to be on the safe side.’ Claire took a woollen scarf that Édith Belland had sent Mitch one year for his birthday. She held it up to her face and breathed in his scent before tying it around her neck. ‘For luck,’ she said.

‘Did you telephone Foxden and speak to Aimée?’ Esther asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

‘Yes, last night. I told her I was going to bring her daddy home.’

‘You didn’t tell her where you were going, did you?’

‘Good Lord, no! The fewer people who know the safer it will be for me, and for Mitch. I asked her if she’d stay at Foxden with her aunt and uncle and, if we’re not back before the school term starts, go to school with Nancy.’

‘And?’

‘And she said yes. She made me promise I’d fetch her as soon as we get back.’ Claire’s throat tightened and she swallowed. ‘I could tell she wasn’t happy about it, and who could blame her? First she was dragged out of school and taken to Canada and now, just when she was looking forward to going back to her old school in Oxford and seeing all her friends, she’s having to get used to the idea of going to a school where she won’t know anyone except her cousin.’ Tears blurred Claire’s vision and she sat on the end of the bed and sobbed.

Esther sat next to her and held her in her arms. ‘Claire, your daughter is intelligent and resilient. She will come to terms with the change and she will cope with it.’

‘She shouldn’t have to come to terms with anything at her age,’ Claire said. ‘Nor should she have to cope. She’s eight years old for goodness sake. It isn’t right.’

‘What’s happening to her father isn’t right either. Whether she understands now or not, she will when she’s older. When you tell her why her father had to go away, and why you had to go after him, I promise you she will understand. Right!’ Esther stood up. ‘It’s time we left,’ she said, ‘I’ll wait for you in the car.’

Claire jumped at the sound of the front door slamming. She looked in the dressing table mirror. She looked a fright. Her face was pale and blotchy and her eyes were red-rimmed. The way she looked now she would attract the wrong kind of attention, and she didn’t want to do that.

She set about repairing her make up. By the time she had calmed down, so had her puffy eyes. Dropping her makeup into her handbag, Claire picked up her suitcase, put out the light and went downstairs.

She looked in each room, checking nothing was out of place or looked suspicious. She put on her coat and hat, tightened Mitch’s scarf around her neck and pulled on her gloves. With her handbag under her arm and her suitcase in her hand, Claire left the house, quite possibly for the last time.

Neither women spoke on the way to the railway station. When they arrived, Esther parked the car, joined Claire at the ticket office, and walked with her to the platform. ‘Thank you,’ Claire said.

‘For what?’ Esther asked.

‘Making me see sense,’ Claire said. Esther’s brow creased. ‘About Aimée.’

Esther waved the compliment away. ‘You don’t need me to tell you what a remarkable child your daughter is. Come here,’ she said, hugging Claire. ‘She takes after her mother.’

‘Stop it!’ Claire said, carefully wiping the skin beneath her eyes with her finger. ‘I haven’t time to repair my makeup, again.’

‘You look lovely,’ Esther said. Claire rolled her eyes and gave the old lady a wry smile. ‘When you see my grandson, give him my love, will you?’

‘Yes. If I see him.’

Esther tucked Alain’s scarf under the collar of Claire’s coat. ‘And don’t be too hard on him,’ she said, ‘I’m sure he had a very good reason for going to France.’

Claire heard the train’s breaks hiss and engage as the train pulled into the station. ‘I’d better go. I don’t want