Read Online Resurrectionists by Kim Wilkins - Free Book Online Page A

a little village called Solgreve, about two hours out of York. My grandmother died a few months ago and I’m sorting out her things. But I’m getting pretty lonely and was wondering if you were doing anything this weekend.”
    “Lonely is my middle name. You should come
    down here this weekend. Stay over. I can take one of the mattresses off the bed and you can sleep on the floor. I’ll show you round York, we can go out for breakfast.”
    And even though Maisie had never much liked Cathy, she could hear the desperate note of loneliness in her voice and knew her own would sound like that in a few weeks if she didn’t take up the offer. It was time for her to grow up and admit that it wasn’t fair to have a prejudice against someone based on the fact that they wore batik prints.
    “It sounds great.”
    Bus timetables were consulted and it was decided that Cathy would meet her at the bus station in York on Saturday at noon. Cathy chatted for a few minutes about how expensive living in England was proving to be. Maisie was only half-listening. Outside she had heard a soft thump near the laundry door. Was it Tabby? There it was again. A soft thump and slither. If she hadn’t seen that cloaked figure the previous day she wouldn’t have suspected anything other than the cat, but her imagination was unstable.
    “Hey, Cathy,” Maisie said, “you’re into all that supernatural stuff, aren’t you? Spirits and so forth.”
    “I have an interest. Why?”
    “Do you believe in ghosts?”
    “I don’t know. I’ve never seen one.”
    “What are the chances my grandmother is
    haunting me?”
    “Have you seen her?”
    Maisie became embarrassed. “No, I’ve just heard a few noises. It’s probably nothing. This is an old house.”
    “Let’s talk about it on the weekend,” Cathy suggested.
    “Okay, sure.”
    “See you Saturday.”
    She replaced the receiver and strained her ears. No more sinister noises. “Tabby?” Softly, walking down the hallway; Tabby was on the washing machine, ears pricked up. She turned to look at Maisie, miaowed. Maisie stroked her tail, trying to relax.
    “If you see the ghost of my grandmother, Tabby, be sure and tell me,” she said. “I’ve got a few questions I’d like to ask her. And I could use the company.”
    It was sometimes the case that Adrian went for days without seeing his girlfriend’s parents, even though they all lived in the same house. If Janet was busy with students, and Roland was busy rehearsing orchestras, it was not unusual to have the house to himself. The first time he saw Janet since Maisie had left was Friday morning. He was in his pyjamas in the sunlit kitchen making toast for breakfast. She came in, as always perfectly dressed and tidy-haired, and gave him a bemused look.
    “Dressed for a power meeting, I see,” she said.
    “Sorry. I thought I was home alone.” He could still be embarrassed by being caught in transit wrapped in a towel or his pj’s. Now he had the Churchwheel’s contract, he and Maisie had to think seriously about moving out.
    “Have you heard from Maisie?” she said, going to the cupboard for the coffee jar.
    “Yes, I spoke to her Wednesday. She got there safe and well.”
    “Did she mention anything about her
    grandmother?”
    Adrian looked up from buttering his toast. She had her head down, concentrating very hard on her coffee cup.
    “Um . . . I guess so.” He didn’t want to have this conversation.
    “So she knows about her then?”
    “She found out that she was a fortune-teller.”
    “Nothing else?”
    “She said something about . . . well . . . it’s silly really.”
    “About the arrests?”
    “Arrests? What arrests?” Adrian was shocked. The kettle started whistling and Janet reached over to switch it off. She made her coffee in silence. Resolute silence.
    “Janet,” Adrian said gently. “What was your mother arrested for?”
    She shook her head. “It will all come out soon enough.”
    “Was it to do with