Read Online Ways to See a Ghost by Emily Diamand - Free Book Online

back to the meeting. “Nothing to worry about—” she said as she opened the door. Her wordswere cut off as it closed behind her.
    Isis ran into the hallway, plunging her hands into Angel’s smoky form, grasping hold of her and pulling her back to the kitchen.
    “Oooow!” wailed Angel, kicking with weightless legs, trying to hit Isis. “You hurting me!”
    Isis’s hands were going numb, she let go with one of them.
    “Don’t go in there again!” she hissed. “That was very naughty!”
    She pulled her other hand out of the little ghost, who sank onto the floor, her edges dissolving a little.
    “I not naughty,” she wailed.
    “Don’t start crying,” snapped Isis. “It won’t work. I told you not to go in there! One of them could have seen you.”
    Angel became a little more solid, and started fiddling with the flowers on her sandals. “No one see me,” she mumbled.
    Isis sighed, it was hard to stay angry with Angel. She crouched down and touched a finger to Angel’s cool-whisper cheek. “They
might
have,” she said. “They’re psychics.”
    “Like Mummy?”
    Isis shook her head, her throat tight.
    “Not like Mummy. Proper ones.” She sat down on the tiles next to Angel. “This is Mummy’s big chance, you see? It’s what she really wants. But if the others spot you, and find out she can’t…” Cally would be crushed. Cut to pieces. “They won’t let her join their club.”
    Angel scrunched up the cloth flower. When she let go it was still perfect. She looked up at Isis.
    “They dint see me,” she said.
    “That’s because they weren’t looking,” said Isis. “I distracted them.”
    Angel’s eyes were round in her not-quite-there face. “After. When you and Mummy wented out.” A smile sneaked onto her lips. “I runned on the table.”
    Isis groaned, dropping her head into her hands. Angel poked her face through Isis’s fingers.
    “They dint see me. Even when I show my tummy, like this.”
    Angel stood, pulling up her dress to reveal a stretch of ghostly belly above pink tights. Through Angel, Isis could see the fridge.
    “None of them?” whispered Isis.
    Angel shook her head.
    “Why did you do that?” cried Isis. “You could have ruined everything!”
    Angel dropped her dress.
    “I want someone to see me,” she said. “Someone not you.”
    For a moment Isis thought of that future she’d tried to imagine, back in the garden. The one where she had a normal life, and didn’t have Angel trailing after her. She shook her head, scattering the thoughts, and held out her arms. Her dead sister climbed onto her lap, with the weight of a falling feather.
    “You’ve got me,” whispered Isis, “and I’ve got you.” She kissed Angel, like kissing a breeze. “Always and forever.”
    “Always and forever,” echoed Angel.

My dad had this theory. Actually, he has a theory about most things. Aliens, 9/11, how the government are using the Internet to control us, why the oil companies bumped off all these people who invented water-powered cars. You name it, my dad’s got a theory. So he had to have one about Norman Welkin, and why he died.
    He’d been following it up, you see. Ringing the police, checking the local paper for stories, doing Internet searches.
    “What’s the point, Dad?” I asked him. “The policeman said it was probably a heart attack.”
    “Well he would say that, they’re trained to put people off the scent,” muttered my dad, frowning at his computer while it brought up about twenty trillion hits onunusual deaths. “Norman’s death was strange. You said so yourself.”
    “No I didn’t,” I said. “It was Isis. You know – your weird girlfriend’s weird daughter.”
    Dad’s fingers stopped on the keyboard.
    “Why do you think they’re weird?” He looked at me. “Do you think
I’m
weird?”
    I shrugged. “Of course. Doesn’t everyone?”
    Thing is, I should never have told him what Isis said. How it was like the dead man had been frozen and