Chapter Eight
After Potter had flown away, I headed back to the manor to find Isidor slumped on the sofa reading a book, and Kayla folded up in an armchair, listening to my iPod. She had it up so loud that I could hear that she was listening to
As I entered, Kayla yanked the earphones out and looked at me. “You look upset.”
“Potter’s gone,” I told them and Isidor glanced over the top of his book at me.
“Gone where?” he asked.
“Don’t know,” I said and flopped into one of the armchairs.
“When is he gonna be back?” Kayla asked, turning off the iPod.
“Don’t know that either,” I shrugged.
“Why did he go?” Kayla shot back, and I could see the glint of intrigue in her eyes. I couldn’t blame her; Potter deciding to take off was probably the most exciting thing that had happened to her since coming back.
“I think, like all of us, he’s having problems adjusting,” I said.
“I’d have problems adjusting too if I came back from the dead to discover that my name was
Ignoring his comment, I said, “What are you reading?”
“The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes,” he said, holding the book in the air so I could see the front cover.
“Good,” I smiled.
“Good?” Isidor said, cocking the eyebrow with the piercing.
“It might come in handy,” I said back.
“How come?” Kayla asked, shooting a quizzical look in my direction.
“I don’t know about you guys,” I said, “but I’m getting fed up with sitting around here every day, twiddling my thumbs. I need something more than that — I need to get the old brain matter working again.”
“So what have you got in mind, Kiera?” Isidor asked, placing the book to one side.
“I’m going to write an advert offering to help people with their problems,” I explained to them.
“What sort of problems?” Kayla asked me, screwing up her face.
“I don’t know — anything I guess,” I said.
“You know you’re just gonna attract a whole bunch of pervs,” Kayla grimaced.
“We don’t have to respond to their emails,” I said. “We pick the cases that sound most interesting — unusual!”
“When you say ‘cases’,” Isidor asked, his interest now picking up, “Do you mean like investigations?”
“I guess,” I answered. “We’ll just have to see what comes up.”
So over dinner that evening, we decided what our advert should say. We sat bunched together at the end of the vast kitchen table, our voices echoing off the huge stone walls. It was more like a banqueting hall than a kitchen. We didn’t eat much, which was another thing about being dead — we had all lost our appetites. It wasn’t as if we needed food to stay alive. Everything had the same bland taste to it — like toast without butter and jam — just dull and boring. Food just got pushed to the edges of our plates, as if we were trying to kid ourselves that we had eaten. Maybe we only bothered to cook a meal each night to try and keep some normality to our newfound existence; after all, the only thing that any of us truly enjoyed was the taste of human blood.
Isidor pushed his plate to one side and said, “I know what the advert could say. What about something like this: ‘Got a problem? Need some help? Who you gonna call — Kiera Hudson!’ ”
Kayla almost choked on her food as she started to laugh. “Isidor, Kiera is meant to be an investigator — not a freaking
“Okay, smart arse,” he said, looking a little hurt at his sister’s teasing. “You think of something.”
“Okay,” Kayla said thoughtfully. “How about, ‘Got a problem that needs to be shared? Got a secret you can’t tell anyone else? Then contact Kiera Hudson. Complete discretion assured!’ ”
“If you write something like that,” Isidor grimaced, “You will get a bunch of pervs come knocking at the door. There’ll be a queue of them in dirty raincoats from here to God knows where!”
With a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, I looked at them across the table and said, “We need to keep it simple. You’re quite right, we don’t want any perverts or ghost hunters…”
“Them too,” I nodded, “but we don’t want to be investigating a string of missing pets, either. We all know that we’ve come back to a slightly different world than the one we left. Maybe there is someone out there who hasn’t forgotten everything — someone who remembers what the world used to be like.”
“So what have you got in mind?” Isidor asked me.
“How about this: ‘Has your world been pushed?’ ” I suggested, thinking of how Potter had described the changes.
“What’s that s’posed to mean?” Kayla asked glancing at Isidor, then back at me.
“I don’t know,” I said, looking at her. “But someone out there might.”
So the following morning, with a dozen copies of the advert in their hands, Isidor and Kayla stood in the great hall beneath the chandelier, their wings out.
“Don’t you think you should go by car?” I asked them.
“Are you crazy?” Kayla asked back. “You want us to reach as many towns as possible, don’t you?”
“I guess,” I said, “but it’s just that you might be seen by someone. We shouldn’t be drawing attention to ourselves.”
“Have you seen outside this morning?” Isidor asked, his wings rippling beneath his arms. “The sky is full of clouds — no one will see us. And besides, the nearest town is over ten miles away — we should know, we’ve driven it enough over the last few weeks collecting those newspapers for you.”
“Why don’t you come with us?” Kayla asked me. “You haven’t left the grounds of the manor since we got here. It would be good for you to get out a bit.”
The offer was a kind one, but I knew that if I were to go with them, I would have to fly and that would mean having to get my wings out and if I did that, those cracks would appear. I still wasn’t ready for them to see me like that.
“No, you’re okay,” I told her. “I think I’ll just bum around here for a while.”
“And do what?” Isidor asked me, his fangs shining as brightly as the chandelier above us.
“I’m going to sync my iPod to my old email address, make sure that it’s still working okay, just in case we do get a response to those adverts.”
“That isn’t going to take all day,” Kayla pushed. “Go on, Kiera, come with us — it could be fun.”
I did want to go with them, not really relishing the thought of spending the day mooching about the empty manor on my own. But I just couldn’t. “I’ve got plenty to do — like setting up a room for consulting. We need to look the part should we get any clients.”
“Your choice,” Kayla smiled weakly at me, but I could tell she knew that there was something up with me.
I followed them to the giant front door, and Isidor had been right, the day was overcast and miserable- looking. A fine rain was coming down, and the leaves that Potter had raked into a neat pile now swirled up and down the drive in the wind.
They both looked back at me one last time, then without a word, they both soared up into the dismal-looking sky. Within seconds, I had lost sight of them amongst the clouds.
“See you in a while, crocodile,” I whispered, closing the front door of the manor, and leaving me all alone.
Chapter Nine
