Eva Ibbotson - Dial a Ghost

‘We knew about it,’ said Mother Margaret. ‘But it is not a thing we liked to do. We wanted to welcome lost souls, not banish them.’

‘Are they… the Shriekers completely… you know… destroyed?’ asked Miss Pringle nervously.

‘Not they! They just took off cursing and screaming, dragging that wretched blob along behind them. They were coming back to London, I believe.’

Miss Pringle was beside herself. ‘You must let us make it up to you — the cost…’

But the nuns shook their heads. ‘There is no money that can make up to us for the terror and the sadness. Our new litter of puppies simply won’t leave their mother at all. They spend their time underneath her — and the bees will take weeks to recover.’

Though she was quite broken up by what had happened, Miss Pringle made a last plea for her favourite family. ‘You wouldn’t consider trying the Wilkinsons instead? They—’

But she had gone too far. ‘Definitely not, Miss Pringle. Frankly, we are surprised that you can ask it,’ said Mother Margaret.

And leaving Lady de Bone’s toe on Miss Pringle’s desk they went away.

When something bad has happened what one needs more than anything is a kind friend to talk to. But when Miss Pringle hurried across the corridor, she found Mrs Mannering as upset as she was herself.

‘I was just coming over, Nellie. I’ve had that Mr Boyd on the telephone — the one from Helton Hall. He was absolutely furious. It seems as though we sent him the Wilkinsons, and he wants them out. He says they’re namby-pamby and useless and he wants the ones he ordered at once. He wants the Shriekers. But where are they?’

‘I’ll tell you where they are,’ said Miss Pringle.

When she had finished, Mrs Mannering had turned quite pale. ‘The honour of our agency is at stake, Nellie. We must find out how it happened. I quite definitely put the Shriekers’ maps in a red folder and gave them to Ted.’

‘And I quite definitely put the Wilkinsons’ maps into a green folder and gave them to Ted.’

So they went into the little office at the back where Ted was sorting out the mail.

‘Now, Ted,’ said Mrs Mannering, ‘there has been a dreadful muddle and we have sent the wrong ghosts to two lots of adopters. Do you remember my giving you a red folder to leave out for the Shriekers?’

‘And do you remember me giving you a green folder to give to the Wilkinsons?’

Ted got to his feet and stood before them. He was blushing and looking very hang-dog indeed.

‘Yes, I do. But… Well, I left them out like you said… Only… you see…’

So then it all came out. How he was colour-blind and had been afraid to tell them because he didn’t want to lose his job.

‘Oh, Ted, you should have told us; it was very wrong of you. We wouldn’t have dismissed you just for that, and now look at the harm you’ve done.’

‘We’ll have to get a computer anyway,’ said Mrs Mannering. ‘But in the meantime we must put this right at once. Fortunately the Shriekers are still wanted at Helton, so I’ll see if I can get hold of them and let them know.’

‘And I shall go to the Wilkinsons myself and break the bad news. The trouble is the nuns have been put right off adopting any more spooks, so we can’t do a swop. You’re sure they can’t stay at Helton too?’

‘Quite sure. Mr Boyd’s really taken against them. He wants them out at once.’

Miss Pringle dabbed her eyes. ‘It looks as though it’s back to the knicker shop for that dear, nice family. You know, Dorothy, sometimes I think that life just isn’t fair .’

Miss Pringle arrived at Helton late in the afternoon. Addie and Oliver were out for a walk, but Aunt Maud was waltzing about on the head of the man trying to strangle a snake and she came down at once.

‘Why if it isn’t dear Miss Pringle,’ she said. ‘What a pleasure to see you. We should have let you know before how very happy and grateful we are.’

Grandma, who was having a little nap on one of the benches, now sat up and said, ‘Yes that’s right. It’s a lovely place here; we’re as snug as anything. It just seems like a bad dream now, that time in the knicker shop.’ She called to Eric. ‘Eric, here’s Miss Pringle from the agency come to see how we’ve settled in.’

You can imagine how poor Miss Pringle felt. How she blushed and stammered and had to dash away her tears when she told them the dreadful news.

‘A mistake?’ said Uncle Henry, who had come to join them. ‘What sort of a mistake?’

Miss Pringle blew her nose and explained about Ted and the colour blindness.

‘You were meant to go to some nuns down in the West Country. Ever such nice people. And some quite different ghosts were ordered for up here. Rather fierce and horrible people but… suitable for such a big place.’

It was Uncle Henry who understood what she was trying to tell them.

‘You mean you want us to leave here? To go away again?’

Miss Pringle nodded. ‘The gentleman who ordered the ghosts for here was very angry and upset.’

The Wilkinsons could make no sense of this. All they knew was that they were not wanted.

‘Of course we aren’t headless,’ said Aunt Maud hopelessly.

‘I told you,’ said Eric. ‘I told you no one would want me. If Cynthia Harbottle didn’t want me, no one else will either.’

‘Now, Eric,’ said Grandma. He’d hardly mentioned Cynthia since they came to Helton and here it was starting up again. ‘It isn’t you, it’s me. It’s because I’m old.’

‘No, no, no!’ cried Miss Pringle. ‘It’s just that Mr Boyd wanted fierce ghosts and he’s very cross. It’s to do with attracting tourists.’

But she looked round at Helton in a very puzzled way. There didn’t seem to be any notices saying that the hall was open to the public.

Uncle Henry’s ectoplasm had become quite curdled with shock, but he spoke with dignity. ‘If we’re not wanted here, we must leave at once. Go and catch the budgie, Maud, and I’ll get our things.’

‘Oh dear, oh dear!’ Miss Pringle was getting more and more flustered. Still, she was running an agency; she had to be businesslike. ‘Where is Adopta?’ she asked, for the little girl was a special favourite of hers.

‘She’s out with Oliver,’ said Aunt Maud — and when she thought of saying goodbye to the child they had grown to love so much, she could no longer hold back her tears.

‘Oliver? Is that Mr Boyd — the man who owns Helton?’ asked Miss Pringle. ‘Because if so perhaps I’d better stay and apologize to him myself.’

But just then the children came running down the path. Oliver had found another letter from Trevor in the Troughton Post Office and his face was alight with happiness. At least it was till he saw the ghosts.

‘What is it?’ he asked, suddenly afraid. ‘What’s happened?’

Miss Pringle came forward and introduced herself. ‘I’m afraid I’ve had to tell them that they aren’t wanted here at Helton. That they were sent here by mistake.’

The next minute, she stepped back a pace because the most extraordinary change had taken place in the little boy.

He had seemed to be a gentle sort of child and not at all bossy or strong-minded. Now his chin went up and his eyes blazed.

‘Not welcome at Helton?’ he said furiously. ‘Not welcome ! How dare you say such a thing! They’re the most welcome people I have ever known. They’re my friends. They’re my family and they’re not going away from here ever. I’ll… I’ll kill anyone who tries to take them away.’

The effect of Oliver’s words was incredible. The ghosts’ ectoplasm seemed to thicken and grow stronger. Grandma’s whiskers, which had faded almost to nothingness, stood out clear and sharp again, and Eric smiled.