Read Online Resurrectionists by Kim Wilkins - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kim Wilkins
Ads: Link
the other stuff . . . the witchcraft?”
“Oh, so Maisie knows about that. Ridiculous nonsense, isn’t it? Casting circles and saying incantations and all that rubbish.” She poured some milk in her coffee and made to leave the kitchen.
“You don’t believe in it?”
“The most magical thing my mother managed to do was make her daughter disappear.”
“Then what about the arrests?”
Janet put up a graceful white hand. “Don’t ask me anything else. Nobody would listen to me before she went, and I won’t talk about it now. She’ll find out soon enough.”
And with that she departed to the piano room, leaving Adrian standing in the kitchen to wonder what grandmothers can be arrested for, and if that should make any difference to Maisie’s safety.
CHAPTER FIVE
Maisie found herself anxiously peering through the window as the bus pulled in to the stop outside York train station. York’s medieval walls stood cold and grey under the dim sky. Her eyes passed over them only briefly. She was looking instead for . . .
“Cathy!” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but when she saw Cathy Ellis standing there, long red hair tucked under a crocheted hat, skinny body wrapped tightly in a grey duffel coat, she couldn’t control her excitement. She was the first person off the bus.
“Maisie!” Cathy exclaimed, grabbing her in a bear hug which somehow didn’t seem inappropriate even though they had never been close. The most social thing they had ever done together was go out for coffee after choir rehearsals in a group of eight. Maisie had always found Cathy and her sister too blunt, too smugly comfortable with themselves, and way too fond of Adrian. But now, all was forgiven.
“What have you done to your beautiful hair?”
Cathy exclaimed.
“It bugged me so I got it cut.”
“Oh no. We all used to be so jealous of your hair.”
“It’s not that short.” Maisie self-consciously pulled at a curl.
“It barely comes to your shoulders. What did Adrian think?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
Cathy had taken her bag and grabbed her elbow, and was leading her away from the bus stop.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Cathy said. “I’ve been terribly lonely.”
“Don’t you have friends at your uni?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I’m doing
research, not coursework. The only subject I have is Old English and the students are all quite tight with each other because they’re doing a lot of classes together.”
“What are you researching?” They were crossing the road now, past a statue and under a huge tree which was probably fantastically green in summer, but now was bare.
“I’m still narrowing it down. Probably something about early medieval women’s domestic roles.”
“Sounds interesting.” Maisie didn’t mean it.
“It is.”
“I can carry my own bag if you like,” Maisie offered, feeling guilty.
“It’s fine. Let me spoil you. You’re the only Australian accent I’ve heard in nearly three months. How was the weather back home when you left?”
“Not too bad. Starting to get hot.”
“You know, I used to hate the heat when I lived there, but now I’d give anything for just a few days in the sunshine.”
Maisie shook her head. “I will not miss the Brisbane summer. I swear I will not.”
“Give yourself a few more weeks. You’d be
surprised what you can miss. So where are you staying again?”
“Solgreve. Two bus rides away. It’s a tiny little village on the coast.”
Cathy nodded, put the bag over her other shoulder.
“I know of it. It used to be a busy fishing town up until the seventeenth century. Enormous cemetery right on the water, right?”
“Actually, it’s on a cliff. But yes, the cemetery is very big.”
“The reason I know about it is because our
archaeology department have been itching to dig up the graveyard for years. Apparently the locals put a stop to it. A lot of the families have been there for generations, and we
“Oh, so Maisie knows about that. Ridiculous nonsense, isn’t it? Casting circles and saying incantations and all that rubbish.” She poured some milk in her coffee and made to leave the kitchen.
“You don’t believe in it?”
“The most magical thing my mother managed to do was make her daughter disappear.”
“Then what about the arrests?”
Janet put up a graceful white hand. “Don’t ask me anything else. Nobody would listen to me before she went, and I won’t talk about it now. She’ll find out soon enough.”
And with that she departed to the piano room, leaving Adrian standing in the kitchen to wonder what grandmothers can be arrested for, and if that should make any difference to Maisie’s safety.
CHAPTER FIVE
Maisie found herself anxiously peering through the window as the bus pulled in to the stop outside York train station. York’s medieval walls stood cold and grey under the dim sky. Her eyes passed over them only briefly. She was looking instead for . . .
“Cathy!” She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but when she saw Cathy Ellis standing there, long red hair tucked under a crocheted hat, skinny body wrapped tightly in a grey duffel coat, she couldn’t control her excitement. She was the first person off the bus.
“Maisie!” Cathy exclaimed, grabbing her in a bear hug which somehow didn’t seem inappropriate even though they had never been close. The most social thing they had ever done together was go out for coffee after choir rehearsals in a group of eight. Maisie had always found Cathy and her sister too blunt, too smugly comfortable with themselves, and way too fond of Adrian. But now, all was forgiven.
“What have you done to your beautiful hair?”
Cathy exclaimed.
“It bugged me so I got it cut.”
“Oh no. We all used to be so jealous of your hair.”
“It’s not that short.” Maisie self-consciously pulled at a curl.
“It barely comes to your shoulders. What did Adrian think?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
Cathy had taken her bag and grabbed her elbow, and was leading her away from the bus stop.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Cathy said. “I’ve been terribly lonely.”
“Don’t you have friends at your uni?”
She shook her head. “Not really. I’m doing
research, not coursework. The only subject I have is Old English and the students are all quite tight with each other because they’re doing a lot of classes together.”
“What are you researching?” They were crossing the road now, past a statue and under a huge tree which was probably fantastically green in summer, but now was bare.
“I’m still narrowing it down. Probably something about early medieval women’s domestic roles.”
“Sounds interesting.” Maisie didn’t mean it.
“It is.”
“I can carry my own bag if you like,” Maisie offered, feeling guilty.
“It’s fine. Let me spoil you. You’re the only Australian accent I’ve heard in nearly three months. How was the weather back home when you left?”
“Not too bad. Starting to get hot.”
“You know, I used to hate the heat when I lived there, but now I’d give anything for just a few days in the sunshine.”
Maisie shook her head. “I will not miss the Brisbane summer. I swear I will not.”
“Give yourself a few more weeks. You’d be
surprised what you can miss. So where are you staying again?”
“Solgreve. Two bus rides away. It’s a tiny little village on the coast.”
Cathy nodded, put the bag over her other shoulder.
“I know of it. It used to be a busy fishing town up until the seventeenth century. Enormous cemetery right on the water, right?”
“Actually, it’s on a cliff. But yes, the cemetery is very big.”
“The reason I know about it is because our
archaeology department have been itching to dig up the graveyard for years. Apparently the locals put a stop to it. A lot of the families have been there for generations, and we
Similar Books
