Nobody did see or listened or responded and certainly nobody did anything to help him. After a few moments of silence during which he didn't bother to speak because nobody was listening, one of the boys at the table broke the spell.
"What's the ghost saying then, Madam K?" the boy asked, his tone mingling too-cool-amusement with too-obvious-interest.
He noticed for the first time that both boys had masks resting on top of their heads, like ghouls on their tea break. This boy, who had an athlete's build and was somehow managing to swagger whilst sitting on a chair, had a devil on his head, grinning at the ceiling with empty eye sockets.
"He is saying nothing, and we say "spirit" dear, not ghost."
"P'raps that's coz there isn't any ghost-spirit thing here, yeah?" the other boy said with a shyness despite the bravado in his words, flicking his eyes to the Sophie girl as if seeking her approval.
This boy, paler and thinner than the other, had a werewolf frowning on top of his tussled black hair and there was palpable disappointment on his face that Sophie had not commented on his comment or even noticed him looking at her as she was too busy just then surreptitiously looking at Devil Boy. It was plain to see to anyone watching, and he had nothing else to do in that moment, that it was one of those classically depressing teen-love-entanglements (infuriating but practically a mandatory rite of passage) wherein Wolf Boy was in love with Sophie who was totally unaware and was herself in love with Devil Boy who was totally unaware or, if even slightly aware, not particularly fussed or surprised by anyone being in love with him.
Wait a minute! If he was a ghost-spirit thing then surely he could act like one and demand to be released?
"LET ME OUT NOW!" he roared, swelling up as large as he could, the epitome of a scary ghost-spirit thing. The candle flared once more and one of the pictures hanging on the wall (a not very good representation of some sort of mystical serpent wrapping itself somewhat suggestively around the moon) went askew but this only caused four of the teenagers to look at each other with mirth and Sophie to look wryly at Madam K who shrugged her shoulders not quite innocently enough to convince anyone.
"BOO?" He added somewhat lamely but this time even the candle didn't react.
"Perhaps," Madam Kondazian said, emphasising the syllables, "you might tell me who this Philip is dear? That might help me speak with him. Is he young or old? It's not Prince Philip is it because you know he only looks dead."
"Shouldn't you be able to tell me?" Sophie replied.
"Well, I'm not psychic, am I?"
"Aren't you?" the third girl asked, sounding genuinely disappointed. She was wearing a t-shirt that read "Thank U, Next" and he wondered next what?
"No, lovey, I'm a medium."
"I'd say she's at least a large," Thank U, Next whispered to Wolf Boy and whisper-laughed which he thought was a bit mean but to Wolf Boy's credit he didn't join in.
"Surely you can guess?" Sophie asked and the humour was gone from her voice, replaced with an edge of anger that he hadn't expected and neither had Madam Kondazian based on her slightly hurt expression. "You people make a bloody living from guessing."
How long was this going to go on for? He had tried the door, the curtained window, the vents, the electrical sockets. He couldn't get out anywhere. He was here and heavy and getting heavier and couldn't they just get a move on. This was getting ridiculous. He needed to hurry them up.
Look at the girl's age. Look at her sad eyes.
Philip is obviously her father, you silly woman!
Philip is...
I'm...475Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6Xl3VSo4cO
