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

After Aimée and Dan had gone, Claire and Mitch relaxed with a second cup of coffee and listened to the wireless. Most of the stations were in French, which being fluent in the language didn’t matter to Claire, but after playing with the dials, Mitch found the Trans-Canadian Network. They listened to a current affairs programme, and then Mitch tuned the wireless to the Dominion Network, poured them both a Canadian Club and after twiddling the button to get rid of a crackling noise, settled down to listen to a local station called, Montréal CFCF. The presenter announced the coming hour as one of light chat and great music from North America.

Perry Como’s 1948 hit “Because” was the first song to come over the airwaves and fill the small warm room with romantic words, followed by Doris Day and Buddy Clark singing “Love Somebody.” ‘This is the ticket,’ Mitch said, as Ella Fitzgerald began to sing Evening shadows make me blue, the opening lyrics to “My Happiness.”

When the song came to an end, Mitch switched off the wireless and put his empty glass on the table and Claire swallowed the last of her whisky. ‘Shall we go to bed, China?’ he said, taking her glass from her.

She stood up, looked into her husband’s eyes and, smiling, offered him her hand. He pulled her to him and kissed her gently on the lips. Then he kissed her again, more passionately, and guided her to the bedroom humming, My Happiness.

CHAPTER FIVE

Claire wore a navy blue tailored suit with wide lapels, four buttons at the nipped-in waist, and a cream silk scarf - bought specially for the occasion. Keeping an eye on the time, she applied her makeup to look as natural as possible.

She arrived at breakfast to the voice of wireless presenter Jack Dennett talking about the state of the traffic in Montréal, Aimée tucking into a boiled egg and bread and butter and Mitch drinking coffee. He gave Claire a loving smile. ‘You look beautiful, honey.’

‘Mummy’s pretty,’ Aimée said.

‘Thank you.’ Claire curtsied to her daughter. Then to Mitch, she said, ‘I haven’t overdone it, have I?’

He shook his head. ‘You look perfect.’

Nervous at the prospect of meeting her in-laws, Claire wasn’t hungry but agreed with Mitch that she ought to eat something. Besides, a little food would settle the butterflies in her tummy. Sitting down next to Aimée, she took a slice of toast from the rack and buttered it. As she ate, Mitch poured her a cup of coffee.

‘Right!’ Mitch said, when Claire and Aimée had finished eating, ‘we’d better make a move.’ He cleared the table, taking their dirty dishes to the kitchen, and went into the hall. When he returned he was wearing his air force blue overcoat. ‘Ready?’

The rented car, a four-door saloon, was twice as big as any car Claire had seen in England. But then the Canadian roads were twice as wide, if not wider. Mitch steered the car away from the curb and into the traffic. Claire expected to hear horns blasting out in protest, as they would have done in England, but not a beep. With three lanes solidly packed with cars, drivers were probably used to cars pulling out in front of them.

‘Darling? What do your father and step-mother call you?’

Mitch laughed. ‘The old man has called me a few unsavoury things in his time. Especially when I was a kid. Poor guy. I blamed him for everything that went wrong after Mom died.’

‘Be serious!’ Claire said. ‘Does your father call you Mitch or Alain?’

‘Alain. Why?’

‘Because I shall call you Alain while we’re in Canada,’ Claire said. ‘Alain is who you are to your father and step-mother - and to Grandma Esther. Mitch is your nickname, the name you’re known by at the base. It’s what your buddies call you.’

‘Does that mean I have to stop calling you China?’ Alain said, laughing, ‘I rather like China.’

‘Mummy’s name is Claire,’ Aimée piped up from the back seat. ‘It’s a nice name, Daddy.’

‘Okay, Claire it is.’ Alain looked in the reverse mirror and winked at his daughter.

‘So, Alain,’ Claire said pointedly, ‘are you looking forward to seeing your father and step-mother?’

‘Yes. It’s been a while.’ He shot Claire a sideways glance. ‘I didn’t visit them the last couple of times I came over on air force business, so…’

‘So I’d better not tell them you’ve been to Canada twice during the last year?’ Alain gave her a cheeky grin but didn’t reply. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t say anything.’

Claire settled back in the passenger seat and looked out of the window. They had no sooner joined the highway than they left it for Montréal’s tree-lined avenues and an area called Petite Montagne, the suburb where Alain’s father and step-mother lived.

‘What a pretty area,’ Claire said. ‘Look out of the window, Aimée. There’s a big park. See all the trees? Their leaves are turning red and orange. Do you remember we saw those trees in the book we borrowed from the library?’

‘They’re called Sugar Maple trees,’ her father told her. ‘There’s a lake in that park. It’s real big.’

‘Mm,’ Aimée said, without much interest. ‘Are we nearly there, Daddy?’ she asked, with a sigh.

‘We are, honey. One more corner, and…’ Alain turned the steering wheel to the left and the car freewheeled over a dropped pavement onto a wide drive, coming to a halt at the side of a garage.

Looking out of a large bay window at the front of the house was a man in his mid-sixties, who Claire assumed was Alain’s father. His arm was around the shoulders of a pretty middle-aged woman with fair hair. She waved excitedly and Claire waved back.

By the time Alain had got out of