Voices in Stone - Emily Diamand Page 0,46
“We’ll be really late!”
Jess shrugged. “So? It’s not like this is our fault, is it?”
As they left, Isis glanced back to see a teacher wading into the middle of the crowd, shouting for everyone to calm down. She tried to convince herself that Jess was right and this hysteria wasn’t her fault, but her thoughts kept fixing on the girl, crying in the middle of it all.
There was a strange atmosphere as they hurried through school. Everywhere students huddled in groups or went too fast along corridors, their voices louder than usual, every conversation full of exclamations. She noticed how many eyes turned to look at her as she passed, and while she’d got used to feeling like a kind of celebrity over the last few weeks, the incident with Mandeville had changed things. The looks she got today weren’t admiring or curious: there were frowns, and even hints of hostility.
As they made their way past the library, a girl from their year was coming the other way. She started when she saw Isis, then made to intercept them, her face lit with excitement.
“I saw a ghost!” she said. “I must be like you!”
“You didn’t!” said Nafira, eyes wide.
The girl nodded.
Isis stared at her. “Where?”
“At the school gates, after Mum dropped me off. A woman with dark hair. She was all blurry, so she had to be a ghost. She came right up to me and said, ‘Please stop!’”
“A woman?” asked Isis, trying to think of all the ghosts she’d ever seen in the school. “Was she wearing a long green dress, really old-fashioned?” The green lady was the only ghost of a woman Isis could think of, but she was usually outside the back of the canteen, walking the same route before disappearing through a now bricked-up doorway.
The girl shook her head. “Not old-fashioned – she was wearing jeans and this bright orange blouse.”
“I’ve never seen a ghost like that in school,” said Isis.
“If she was wearing jeans,” said Jess, “then you saw a substitute teacher or a parent, not a ghost!”
The girl pulled back, her cheeks blushing in spots as if Jess had slapped her.
“I didn’t, I know what I saw! The ghost said, ‘Please, please!’ Why would a teacher say that?”
“I don’t know, they probably didn’t!” Jess pulled at Isis’s arm. “Come on, we’re going to be late.” She led the way, taking them through the library. As they walked quickly past the stands of books, Isis tasted a waft of dust, and Nafira went into a paroxysm of coughing.
They stopped, Jess patting Nafira’s back while she coughed into her hands.
Mandeville slid out of the air next to Isis.
“So, what appointments have we today?” he asked. “Cats, dogs and departed rabbits, no doubt.”
Isis widened her eyes, shaking her head a little. Jess had decided they shouldn’t hold any seances for a while, after what had happened in the alleyway. She still hadn’t decided when to start again, which Isis was relieved about.
“No seance,” Isis mouthed silently, facing away from the others.
Mandeville shook his head, the disappointment plain on his dried-out features. “How long will this hiatus last? It’s no way to go forward with our endeavours.”
Isis gave the tiniest shrug of her shoulders. Not today anyway, with the fuss at the toilets and the weird atmosphere in school. Not with the way she was feeling either.
“Not a good day,” she mouthed.
Mandeville’s patchy eyebrows gathered in a frown. “Well today is more unusual than some I have known. But I don’t see why we can’t carry on…”
Nafira had recovered now and the others started walking again. Isis held back for a moment.
“Why is today unusual?” she whispered. What could Mandeville see that she could only sense as atmosphere and oddness?
He smiled. “So I’ve caught your attention?” He tapped her shoulder with a bony finger. “Allow me to clarify the difference between the psychic and untalented mind. The psychic sees what is truly there. The untalented mind sees projections of its own imaginings, and believes them to be real.”
She glared at him. Why couldn’t he tell her, instead of giving little lectures?
He tilted his head. “It surprises me that you are unable to make this distinction today, given the reach of your powers.”
“What’s going on?” she hissed. “Tell me!”
Mandeville put a finger to his lower lip. “Well perhaps I shall, if you allow me to continue my work.”
Isis shook her head, but Mandeville looked smug, in the way of someone who knows they’re in control.
“Then we have nothing more