Lost And Found: A Cozy Ghost Mystery (Storage Ghost Mysteries Book 2) (3 page)

Chapter 7

“Where
shall we start?” Clive rubbed his hands together in glee. “I’ve been stuck in
that storage room for so long, it feels good to be doing something again.”

Grace
said, “The thing that you’ve lost must be amongst your belongings, we’ll start
there.”

Clive
waved his arm round the shop. “But I’d like to look at the other things you’ve got.
I like the look of that old tea pot.”

Grace
didn’t want to sound rude but she had no intention of looking at every single
item that they had in the shop. She said firmly, “We’ll look at your
belongings, you can look at the other items when we’ve found whatever it is
that you’ve lost. Have you any idea at all what it is?”

Clive’s
brow wrinkled as he thought. “I think it’s something small. I feel that there’s
an urgency to finding it, almost like somebody’s happiness depends on it. Does
that help?”

“Not
really. Let’s start with the souvenirs, there could be something inside one of
them. Did you buy all these?” Grace held up the laughing leprechaun.

Clive
laughed. “Got that from a chap in Dublin. It’s the most garish one I’d seen!
Cost me  two pints of Guinness and £10. Or was it Euros? I can’t quite remember
when I bought it.”

Grace
held the ornament higher. There weren’t any holes for something to be shoved
into it. “I don’t understand why you bought it if you thought it was garish. Or
any of the souvenirs. Although, I do quite like them.”

Clive
nodded. “It wasn’t the souvenirs that I was interested in, it was the people
selling them. They were all street traders, all of them obviously in need of
money. I paid twice what they were asking on the proviso they let me take a
photograph of them. That’s what I do, or did, I’m a photographer. Best job in
the world.”

Grace
put the little green man down and moved onto a shell bracelet. The shells were
too small to hide anything inside but she checked anyway.

Clive
pointed at it. “Got that from a cheeky young chap on a beach in Bali. He
brought me new things every day, those tie-dye sheets that women wrap around
themselves, straw hats and loads of jewellery that he’d made himself. He was so
poor but so happy, I admired his spirit.”

“There’s
nothing in here,” Grace said. “You sound like you’ve been to some interesting
places.”

“I
have. I was offered the job of a professional photographer when I was about 25.
It was a dream come true. It was about the time when holidays were becoming
cheaper, around the early 80s. The newspaper that I worked for wanted ‘an
ordinary man’ to take these holidays and report back to their readers. People
were excited about going on holiday but still wary about what they would find.”

“Sounds
wonderful. Was it a full-time job? What did your family think?”

A
flicker of sadness crossed Clive’s face. He quickly brightened and said, “I
didn’t have much of a family, just my parents, they passed away a while ago.
And my sister, of course. I saw her and her family whenever I could. Brought my
nephews souvenirs back from my travels.”

Grace
hadn’t missed the sad look. “Didn’t you have a home here? Somewhere to come
back to?”

Clive
made a show of looking at a wooden banana leaf. Grace couldn’t see his
expression but she heard the forced happiness in his voice. “I didn’t need a
home, I’m a free spirit, or was.  In fact, these things that were stored in
that dismal room are all of my belongings. One of my friends must have shipped
them back.”

Clive
began to wander around the shop. Grace wanted to ask him more, she could feel
his sadness as if it rested like a heavy shawl around his shoulders. She
continued to look through Clive’s belongings, searching for goodness knew what.

After
half an hour’s searching Grace said, “Shall we stop for a while? I could do with
a cup of tea.”

Clive
smiled. “Ah, the English and their need for tea. Wherever I went in the world,
if I met an English person, they would always profess their need for tea.”

Clive
walked over to the counter and sat on the chair behind it. He looked down. “Are
these my cameras?”

Grace
joined him and nodded. “They are. Frankie, my brother, isn’t sure how much they
could be worth. I’m sorry, it must be awful for you, seeing your things like
this and knowing we’re going to sell them.”

Clive
shrugged. “I’ve no use for them. I hope you get a good price. You’re a good
person, Grace, I can see it in your eyes. I’ve met many cads and scoundrels in
my time, I know a bad penny when I see one.” Clive looked closer at Grace.
“You’re carrying a great sadness, it shows on your face. What happened to you?”

It
was Grace’s turn to shrug. “Nothing. Well, something. I’m dealing with it.” She
made to walk away. “I’m going to the kitchen to put the kettle on, won’t be
long.”

Clive
reached out and grabbed her arm. Grace felt the coldness of his touch.

Clive
was staring at the camera cases. “It’s in there, the thing I’m looking for,
Grace, in that red camera case.”

Grace
reached for the camera case and opened it. She lifted it up to Clive. “There’s
nothing in here, it’s empty.”

Chapter 8

Clive
shook his head vigorously. He stood up and pointed at the case. “It’s there! I
know it.”

Grace
didn’t know what to say. She looked at the case again, there was obviously
nothing there. She gave it a shake. “Oh! What was that? I heard a rattle.”

Clive
clicked his fingers. “Of course! I remember now. There’s a secret compartment
in that case, for when I had to smuggle...well, you don’t need to know about
that. There’s a false bottom. Can you prise it open?”

Grace
ran her hands around the bottom of the case. She felt a slight ridge and put
her nail under it. She gently pulled it up. The bottom of the case came away,
Grace put it on the counter.

Clive
was peering over her shoulder, she could feel the coldness of him on her cheek.

Grace
paused. She was concerned about what she might find. She didn’t like Clive’s
reference to ‘smuggle’. She reached down. Her hand closed around a cylindrical
object. She pulled it out and placed it on the counter. She put her hand in
again and pulled out a similar item.

Clive’s
face lit up. “Film canisters! That’s what I was looking for. I’d forgotten they
were in  there. You found them! Thank you, Grace.”

Grace
checked the bottom of the case, there wasn’t anything else in there. She looked
at the canisters, they were made of metal. “Do they have films inside?”

“They
do, undeveloped films. This is so exciting!” Clive was almost bursting with
happiness.

“What
are the pictures of? Were they taken a while ago?” Grace asked.

Clive
looked at her, his smile growing. “I’ve no idea! Could be anything.”

Grace
frowned. “Then why are you so happy?”

“Because
I know that this is what I’ve been looking for. The next thing we have to do is
get these developed. Do you have a dark room?”

Grace
gave a little smile. “The kitchen is a bit dark, we need a new light bulb.”

Clive
stopped smiling. “I didn’t mean, oh! You’re joking. You look much prettier when
you smile. Of course you don’t have a dark room. I bet you haven’t even got a
camera. People today use their phones, don’t they?”

Grace
nodded, she assumed from that information that Clive had died recently. She
said, “There’s a chemist down the road, they develop films there. I don’t know
how long it would take.”

Clive
turned towards the door. He walked right through the counter and stood waiting
for Grace. “We must go now!”

Grace
looked longingly towards the kitchen. No cup of tea for her then. Couldn’t they
have found the films after she’d had a cuppa? She sighed and collected her
handbag. She popped the films in and walked out of the shop. Clive was at her
side as she locked the door.

The
chemist was a short walk away. The man behind the counter gave her an
incredulous look as she handed the films over.

“Where
did you get these? A museum?”

Grace
heard Clive utter obscenities at the youth. She was inclined to agree with
Clive.

“How
quick can you have them developed?” Grace asked.

The
young man looked at his watch. “We can do them in a hour, if you’re in a rush.
Otherwise, it would be three working days.”

Clive
shouted, “One hour of course, you imbecile!”

Grace
kept her smile in and said, “One hour would be perfect, thank you.”

After
the young man had taken her details Grace headed towards the park. The clouds
had all gone and it had turned into a lovely day. Clive walked at her side. He smiled
appreciatively at the surroundings.

“I’d
forgotten how green England is, and how happy people are when the sun comes
out.”

Grace
checked to make sure that no one was looking her way, then she said, “Let’s sit
on this bench whilst we wait for the photos. I’d love to hear more about your
travels.”

For
the next hour Grace listened as Clive regaled her with tales of his exploits.
She noticed that he spoke more about the people he had met rather than the
places he had visited.

She
didn’t realise she was smiling and nodding to herself until a small boy walked
past with his mum. He said, “Mum, what’s wrong with that lady? Who’s she
talking to?”

The
woman gave Grace a worried glance and pulled her little boy closer as they
hurried away.

For
once, Grace didn’t care. Clive was making her feel braver. How she’d love to
see the world, to meet amazing people like Clive had done.

A
sudden thought shocked her. What was stopping her from doing it?

Oh
no. She wasn’t that brave, she couldn’t ever do something like that.

Her
phoned beeped. Grace said, “That’s my alarm, that hour passed quickly. Let’s
get your photos.”

She
stood up. Clive didn’t move. He seemed to have turned grey.

“What’s
wrong?” Grace asked.

“I’ve
remembered what the photographs are of. I don’t want to see them! Grace, don’t
pick them up. Leave them there. Please!”

“But
I have to,” Grace said.

Clive
stood up, his ghost form shimmered, his hands shook as he held them up to Grace
in a pleading manner. “Please, Grace, please don’t collect them!”

Clive
disappeared.

Chapter 9

Grace
was in a quandary. What should she do? If she didn’t collect the photos the man
at the shop would phone her, she’d given him her mobile number. Could she leave
the photos at the shop? What could be so bad about them?

Grace’s
curiosity won. She’d pick the photographs up, she didn’t have to look at them.

Although
she could just have a peek at the first one.

Grace
walked in to the chemist shop, the young man that had served her earlier held
up two envelopes from across the shop. Grace stumbled slightly. What if the
photos were pornographic? Maybe that’s why Clive had hidden them away. He’d
been around the world many times, he’d told her that he’d seen things that
would make her hair curl.

She
took a step forward. The man behind the counter would have seen the photos as
he developed them. She studied his face. Did he look embarrassed? Mortified?

No,
he looked like a bored teenager as he waved the envelopes impatiently at her.

Grace
took the photos and paid for them. The man didn’t seem interested at all in the
contents. She walked back to the shop and let herself in. Clive hadn’t
reappeared.

Before
she did anything Grace made a big mug of tea. Then she sat down at the small
kitchen table and put the envelopes of developed photographs in front of her.

To
open, or to not open?

Grace
took a few minutes to have a good drink of tea. She took a few more minutes to
enjoy some chocolate covered biscuits.

“Oh,
what the hell,” she said to her nearly empty mug. “I’ll open them. What harm
could it do?”

Grace
took the photos out of one envelope and started to flick through them. The
people that looked back at her instantly made her smile.

Street
vendors, young children on the beach, toothless old men in markets. These must
be the people that Clive had met on his journeys, perhaps the ones that he had
bought his souvenirs from. Clive was an excellent photographer, he seemed to
have captured the very essence of each person, as if their souls had picked
that moment to shine out.

Then
Grace came to the second set of photos. These must have been taken in England,
perhaps in a park similar to the one down the road.

The
photos were mainly of a pretty young woman dressed in a floaty summery dress.
Grace guessed by the look of the woman, and people in the background, that
these photos were taken thirty, maybe forty years ago.

The
young woman was pictured laughing on a swing, then messily eating an ice cream.
One photo took Grace’s breath away. The young woman was sitting on a picnic
blanket, staring in to the distance. The sun had fallen on her hair and made it
impossibly shiny. The woman had a small smile on her face as if she was keeping
a secret.

“I
wonder who she is,” Grace muttered to herself.

The
next photo made her laugh out loud. It was Clive, sitting on the same picnic
blanket. He had hair and was much slimmer. His young face grinned up at the
camera.

“That’s
the only photo I’ve got of me at that age,” a voice said.

Grace
looked across the table at Clive. He carried on, “I never let anyone take
pictures of me, I was the one in charge of the camera.”

He
spoke softly, the sadness in his voice unmistakeable.

Grace
pointed at the young woman. “Who is she?”

“Laura
Opalson. My first love. In fact, she was my only true love. We’d been together
five years when those pictures were taken. She was the one who bought my first
professional camera. I found out later that she’d had to save her money for six
months to buy it. I’d forgotten how beautiful she was, how photogenic. I never
found anyone who had Laura’s smile.”

“What
happened to her?” Grace asked, half-dreading the answer.

Clive
sighed. “I don’t know. I started my new job the day after those were taken. I
tried to keep in touch but she never wrote back. It broke my heart to leave her
behind. Can you look at that one where she’s looking out across the park again?
That really captures her beauty.”

Grace
found the photo and placed it in the middle of the table. Her hand was still on
it as Clive reached out his hand to touch it.

The
kitchen around them began to fade.

Clive
quickly withdrew his hand and looked over at Grace. “What’s happening? Where
has your kitchen gone?”

Grace
didn’t panic. This had happened to her previously with the other ghost she had
met.

“We’re
going to be shown something, like a vision from your past.” Grace sniffed. “I
can smell cut grass. I think we might be going into this photograph.”

Clive
clutched his heart. “No! I can’t bear it!” he called out.