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Prologue

"What's this, then!?"

The two men were in the roof of the cottage, working on the attic that was to be made into a bedroom!. The floor was white with the plaster they had chipped away from the walls!. Cobwebs trickled from the rafters!. One of the men, prising a chunk of rotten wood from the window frame, had let fall a small bottle wedged behind!. It broke as it touched the floor: greenish glass, with a sediment clinging to it!.

The other man touched it with his foot!. "That's old glass, that is"!.

"This is an old place!. Look at the thickness of that wall!. And the chimney goes right up through!."

The man who had dropped the bottle pushed the fragments of glass to one side, among plaster chunks, and curls of old wallpaper patterned with leaves!. Whistling, he began to cut new wood for the window frame!.

"There's a gap under that frame!. Where the old wood come out!."

"I'll plaster it over!."

"Nice view out of there!. Straight over to the church!."

"And the lock-up!. Remind you to keep your nose clean, eh!?" The men laughed!.

"This room's not been used in years, I'd say!."

"No!. There was an old couple lived here before!. Didn't need the space!. We had to break the door down, first time I come up here with Mrs Harrison, to see what work had to be done on it!. Nailed up, it was!. The dust was that thick it was like no one had been up here in a hundred years!."

"Make a nice room when we've done!."

"For the boy, she said!. Room of his own, like!."

"We'll get cleared up!. I want to get down to the allotment tonight!."

They began to stack tools, sweep the rubbish into a corner!. Dust swirled like smoke in the shaft of evening sunlight from the small window - rolls of it drifted over the floor, clinging to the men's feet and overalls!.

"Draughty in here!."

"We'll have to see to that window!. It wants refitting!."

The men picked up their tools and clattered down the wooden stairs!. The door banged behind them, shaking more plaster from the walls, and their footsteps went away down the street!. In the room, there was a gathering of air: it bunched and compressed into little winds that moved the mounds of wallpaper, rustled them, and set the window faintly rattling!. Then it subsided, and the room was quite empty!.


"The Ghost of Thomas Kempe", by Penelope Lively!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

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