The Hidden Picture: A Ghost Mystery Story (Second Hand Ghosts Book 4) (2 page)

Chapter 5

I
thought the best thing to do would be to put the picture of Sally in the shop
window.

“Don’t
sell it!” Ernie cried out.

“I
won’t, I’m going to put a note there appealing for information. I’ll put her
name on too. Do you know when she was born, and where she lived?”

Ernie
gave me the information I needed.

I
put Sally’s picture in the middle of the window and then I surrounded it with
the paintings of Rose. I was sure they would attract attention.

Within
minutes of finishing the display people had stopped to stare. And some were
staring with their mouths wide open. A small crowd soon gathered.

Ernie
had a big grin on his face, “Look at everyone admiring my work.”
I’m not sure admiring was the right word. Some people were curling their lips
in disgust, mainly women. I noticed that a few older men almost had their faces
against the window, like children at a sweet shop.

Carol
came up the street, frowning as she saw the crowd. Then realisation dawned as
she saw the paintings in the window. She quickly swung into the shop.

“Well,
that certainly is a crowd puller,” Carol noted. “You haven’t put any prices on
them. People won’t know they’re for sale.”

“I
was leaving that up to you,” I said.

Ernie
stood quietly at the back of the shop.

Carol
put her bag and coat away and then returned with price stickers and a pen. She
studied each picture for a moment and then wrote a figure on a sticker.

“That’s
too much!” I exclaimed when I saw the amounts.

“We’ll
see,” Carol said. She placed the stickers on the pictures. She reached towards
the sketch of Sally Braithwaite.

“That
one’s not for sale,” I called over to her.

“Why
not? I know it’s not Rose but it’s a good drawing. I’m sure we’ll get something
for it.”

I
didn’t say anything.

Carol
studied my face. Then she said, “Don’t tell me there’s a ghost in here! And
that he or she has something to do with these pictures!”

“Okay,
I won’t tell you that,” I replied.

Carol
threw her hands up in the air, “Can’t they leave us alone!”

“They
need help, and you know I promised Rose I would help ghosts when they asked
me.”

Carol
gave a resigned sigh, “Okay, just tell me who it is and what they want. I can
tell you want to anyway.”

“It’s
the artist, Ernie Ford, and he’s looking for the girl in the picture, Sally
Braithwaite.”

Carol
shook her head, “Why can’t these folk sort themselves out when they’re alive,
like the rest of us have to. Just get on with your ghost business and don’t
bother me about it.”

Ernie
said something.

I
laughed, “Really?”

“What
was that?” Carol snapped.

“Ernie
just said you had a wonderful figure and he would have loved to paint you.”

Carol
smoothed down her cardigan, “It’s not the first time anyone’s said that about
me. Make yourself useful, Kate, and put the kettle on. I think we’re about to
have some trouble, the police are standing outside.”

Chapter 6

By
the time I’d made the tea, two uniformed police officers were talking to Carol
in the shop.

“You’ll
need to remove the paintings, they’re offensive,” the smaller officer was
saying.

“They
are art,” Carol looked down at him. “We have brought some much needed culture
to this town.”

“It’s
a naked woman,” the policeman pointed out.

“It’s
art,” Carol repeated, “and I’m not removing them.”

The
taller policeman spoke, “That’s all very well, madam, but no one seems to be buying
them. People are just staring and causing an obstruction on the pavement.”

Carol
considered this. “Just a moment.”

She
walked over to the window and turned the paintings to face inwards. The crowd
moaned.

Then
she wrote a note and pinned it to the window. Some of the crowd started to head
towards the shop door.

“What
did you write?” I asked her.

‘Famous
local artist. One day sale only.’

“But
he’s not famous,” I said.

Ernie
sighed sadly behind me.

“He
soon will be,” Carol said and she returned to the counter. Some people had now
come into the shop and were having a closer look at the paintings. One man was
reaching for his wallet.

Carol
looked at the policemen and said, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

The
smaller one shifted uncomfortably under Carol’s stare.

The
taller one said, “Can I have a discount? I like the one where she’s on the
swing.”
Carol shook her head, “I can’t be seen giving favours to the local police
force, people will think I’m some sort of criminal getting a back hander. But I
can put it to one side for you.”

“Thanks.
I’ll come back for it later. I might give it to my dad, it’ll cheer him right
up! He hasn’t been the same since my mam died.”

I
turned to look at Ernie. He had a proud look on his face.

The
policemen left the shop. We started to make some sales. Carol got happier as
the till got fuller.

Ernie
stayed near the paintings, listening to the things people were saying. I think
they must have been saying good things because Ernie kept grinning and nodding
to himself.

Some
people glanced at the picture of Sally but no one seemed to recognise her.

It
was nearly time to pick Emily up from school so I collected my things and said
goodbye to Carol.

I
explained to Ernie that I had to go.

“What
about Sally? What if someone comes in who knows her?”

I
asked Carol if she would take any messages about Sally. She reluctantly agreed.

I
really hoped someone would come in with some information, however small.

Chapter 7

At
the shop the next morning I asked Carol if she had any messages about Sally
Braithwaite.

“Yes,
we did have a few people talking about her. I wrote something down,” Carol
said.

Ernie
appeared in the corner of the shop. He gave me a hopeful smile.

Carol
picked a sheet of paper from a shelf behind the counter. She said, “Here are
the things that people said. I wrote them down just as they were said to me,
these are not my words.”

“Okay,”
I said. I felt like Carol was giving me a warning.

‘That
lass looks familiar. Has she been on the telly?’

‘Why
has that girl got her clothes on? Have you got some naked ones of her?’

‘I’ll
give you 50 pence for that scribbling.’

I
looked over at Ernie, his smile had gone.

I
held my hand up to Carol, “Did anybody say anything useful?”

Carol
scanned the paper, she shook her head. “Not really. Apart from the old woman
who said she used to live next door to someone who looked like that. She said
it was a long time ago and she wasn’t sure it was the same girl.”

“Did
she say anything else? Does she know where she lives now?”

Carol
shook her head again, “No, it seems the young girl moved away when she was
about 18. Never returned to the town.”

Ernie
looked as if his world had ended. I walked over to him and said, “There are
other things we can try to track her down. I can have a look on the internet.”

“In
your own time you can!” Carol called over. “And stop talking to ghosts in front
of me!”

“I’ll
check in my lunch break,” I whispered to Ernie.

He
gave a little nod and then disappeared.

“Do
you think you might do some work today?” Carol asked.

I
ignored that comment and asked how many paintings she sold yesterday of Rose.

“Nearly
all of them, we made loads of money,” Carol smiled brightly. “Do you think
there are any other paintings of her? You could ask your ghost friend if he’s
got any more stashed away.”
I smiled, “You’ve changed your tune, you wouldn’t touch them with a barge pole
yesterday.”

“Business
is business, Kate,” Carol said.

We
were busy for the rest of the morning. Word must have got out about the naked
pictures of Rose and we had more customers than normal. Not all of them wanted
a painting but once they were in the shop they were happy to browse at the other
items that we had for sale.

It
was almost my lunch time and I was planning to sit in the back room of the shop
and go on the internet.

Just
as I switched the computer on Carol shouted through to tell me that there was a
phone call for me.

It
was Emily’s school. She had a temperature and wasn’t feeling well. The
headteacher asked me to pick her up.

I
switched the computer off and picked up my coat and bag.

“I’m
really sorry, Carol, but I have to go and pick Emily up,” I said.

“That’s
alright. What’s wrong with her?” Carol looked concerned.

I
told her about Emily having a high temperature.

“You
take good care of her and keep on eye on her,” Carol told me firmly.

“I
will,” I replied. Carol had a protective side when it came to my daughter. It
always surprised me when I saw that part of her.

It
only took me a few minutes to get to Emily’s school. She was waiting in the
reception area with Mrs Brown, the headteacher.

When
Emily saw me she started crying. That wasn’t like her at all. I opened my arms
and wrapped them around her little body.

Mrs
Brown smiled down at her and said, “I think she needs to be with her mum. She
hasn’t been herself all day.”

I
took Emily by the hand, said thank you to Mrs Brown, and walked to the car.
Emily didn’t say a word all the way home.

Chapter 8

When
we got home I gave Emily some medicine to help with her temperature.

“Do
you want to have a sleep in your bed?” I asked.

She
shook her head, “Can I lie down on the sofa? Can you sit with me? Can we watch
Postman Pat?”

“Okay,
but you haven’t watched Postman Pat for years. You said he was for babies.”

Emily
gave me a little smile, “I know but I still like him.”

I
offered Emily some of her favourite food but she said she wasn’t hungry. We
settled down on the sofa, Emily insisting on sitting on my knee. We put on a
DVD. I quite liked Postman Pat too.

Postman
Pat was on his fourth adventure when I heard quiet snoring noises from Emily. I
smiled as I looked down at her angelic face.

My
phone beeped as a text came through. I carefully reached for my handbag without
disturbing Emily. The text was from Carol:

‘Need
to see you now! That stupid ghost of yours is haunting me! I’m outside your
house! Didn’t want to knock on door in case Emily was asleep.’

I
slowly manoeuvred Emily off my knee, she was still snoring. I opened the door
to find a furious looking Carol standing on the doorstep. She marched straight
in and pointed an accusing finger at me.

I
held up my hand and whispered, “Don’t shout, Emily’s asleep on the sofa.”

Carol’s
thunderous look immediately cleared to leave one of concern, “How is she? Has
her temperature dropped?”

“She
seemed better when we got home, and I’m sure she’ll feel much better after a
sleep.”

Carol
nodded as if my answer was acceptable to her. I invited her to sit down at the
kitchen table and then I put the kettle on.

“What’s
this about my ghost haunting you?” I carefully asked. I didn’t want her to
explode again.

She
merely tutted and raised her eyebrows, “The minute you left, that blinking
picture of his kept falling over. That one of Sally whatever her name is. I
kept putting it back and then do you know what happened later on?”

I
shook my head.

“Somebody
nipped my bottom! I turned around and there was no one there so it must have
been your ghost!”

I
didn’t know that ghosts could nip bottoms. I hadn’t told Carol this but Ernie
had followed her into my house. I could tell by the guilty look on his face
that he had done something to her.

I
made Carol and myself a cup of tea and put them on the table.

“I’m
not having sexual harassment going on the shop so I’ve brought you this. You
can keep it here,” Carol said and she took the sketch of Sally Braithwaite out
of her bag and placed it on the table.

I
sighed, “But I wanted to keep this at the shop, in case someone recognised
her.”

“That’s
your problem, not mine,” Carol said. She picked up her tea and slurped it as if
to say that was the end of the matter.

“No!
Tell her I’m sorry, it was just a joke. The picture has to stay at the shop!”
Ernie begged.

I
looked over at him. I didn’t know what to say.

I
opened my mouth to argue with Carol, but I didn’t get chance to speak because
Emily had wandered into the kitchen.

She
looked at the sketch of Sally and said, “Who drew a picture of Mrs Brown?”