Chapter Fourteen

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DIANA OCTOBER 1918

As the sun rose, Diana woke Beth Willis and succinctly filled her in about Austin's nighttime excursion to find his mother, as well the "ghost" sighting that had prompted it.

Beth blessedly maintained the calm demeanor of the school secretary, with only her furiously tapping fingers betraying the worried mother. "Austin didn't say any more about what he saw?"

"I didn't want to press him. I kept him in the infirmary the rest of the night. I've asked Mr. Murray to escort Austin here once you and I'd had a chance to talk." She checked her watch. "They'll be here in a few minutes. I can give you the room to speak with him."

"No, stay. And perhaps Mr. Murray could go back for Jasper. Where one is involved, the other will know something."

In the event, Beth asked Joshua to remain as well. Diana was afraid that three adults facing them would overawe the brothers, but they clearly gained courage from each other. And though he was only thirteen, Jasper had the cocky surliness of an adolescent.

"Have you been telling Austin stories?" Beth asked her older son.

"No."

"Jasper—"

"It wasn't me, mum. Honest. Everybody talks about the ghost."

Diana asked, "What do they say?"

He attempted a casual shrug, but there was definitely a flicker of nervousness there. "A boy died here. Murdered, probably. That's why he's a ghost."

"Have you seen him?"

Jasper shook his head. "It's only ever the first-years who see him."

Well, that was definitely the kind of thing that would prime sensitive, grieving nine-year-old boys—with the right kind of imagination—to see ghosts. In a school full of students who had all suffered losses from the war, it was a wonder all fifteen of the first-year boys weren't wandering at night.

"Austin," Beth asked gently, "was this the first time you've seen the boy?"

He shook his head.

"When did it start?"

He spoke under his breath, looking down. "The second week."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

His eyes fluttered to his mother, then back to his lap, where his hands were twisted together. He shrugged.

"Was last night the first time you left your room?"

He nodded. "He wanted me to follow him. He kept saying, ‘Come hide with me.' So I finally did."

"Why?"

In a heartbreaking whisper, Austin said, "I thought he could help me find Papa."

Diana met Joshua's eyes in a shared glance of empathetic agony as Beth gathered her youngest boy into her lap. Austin sobbed like a toddler, and even Jasper's adolescent shield melted away and he moved to his mother's side.

Without a word, Diana and Joshua left the little family to mourn alone.

Diana leaned against the wall at the far end of the corridor and put her hands over her eyes. Her head ached from exhaustion and sorrow. She felt a brief, gentle touch to her shoulder and straightened up, eyes opening.

"You all right?" Joshua asked.

She ignored the question. "So the youngest boys are being fed stories of a ghost their own age—a ghost who beckons them to follow—and then … what? Are there any stories about what the ghost boy wants?"

A sarcastic snort came from her left, and she snapped her head around. How did Luther Weston manage to be everywhere she didn't want him? He appeared at the top of the staircase having clearly heard them, and answered before Joshua could: "Don't all ghosts want revenge? Or justice? Maybe Miss Somersby should get a medium up here to find out."

Joshua spoke without noticeable heat; his threat all the more chilling. "If you say one word about mediums and séances within earshot of a boy, I will throw you out of this school myself."

"Doesn't it get exhausting being so righteous all the time? You're not the only one who watched men die in France, Murray."

"No, I'm not. And I'd wager Miss Neville has witnessed more men die than either of us could count."

"For heaven's sake, shut up. Both of you," she said, with a warning glance at Joshua. "What do you want, Weston?"

"Miss Somersby asked for an update on the Willis boy. I take it he will not be sleeping in the dormitory tonight?"

"I'll speak to Miss Somersby directly."

His sour smile lingered unpleasantly as he clattered down the stairs with a quick ease that Diana thought might be aimed at Joshua. Weston may not have been a frontline soldier, but he'd also returned without frontline injuries.

She turned to the matter at hand. "Whatever is going on in this school, there's no way Austin Willis is my midnight prankster. He hasn't the nerve. Perhaps we'll get somewhere if Beth can discover which boys have been spreading stories."

"If you can get any of the boys to focus long enough."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not in the classroom every day, so maybe you haven't caught the undercurrents running through here. Everyone knows the war is drawing to an end. Getting the boys to focus on history or chemistry is getting more difficult. The tension is becoming unbearable."

"We'll all feel much better once it's over."

"Do you think so?"

Diana was taken aback by the bitterness in his voice as much as by the question. "Of course we will. We must. It's been four years of hell. The relief of no more war …" She shrugged.

"Just because the fighting stops doesn't mean we're free of hell. People think it will all just go back to normal. Tell me true, Diana—did you leave hell behind? Or has it followed you every day since leaving France?"

She wanted to deny it. She wanted to look him in the eye and tell him yes, of course, life was normal again and it soon would be for everyone. But one can't lie to someone who has walked the same battlefields you have.

"No, life is not what it was and it never will be. We cannot go back. But equally we cannot stand still. The world will make a new normal. We must," she repeated, as though saying it could make it so.

It was Joshua's turn to close his eyes and lean against the wall. "That is the most exhausting thing I can imagine. I just want to sleep until all the treaties are signed and all the soldiers have come home. Then maybe I can believe in the future."