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identity of the ghost. He wouldn’t get far enough, Jim knew that. He also knew that they wouldn’t believe the answer if they ever found it. He wasn’t really listening as Bob rattled through the rest of the questions.
    ‘Did you live in this castle?’
    ‘Did you die violently?’
    ‘Were you an old man?’
    Jim smiled inwardly at that one. He could tell from Bob’s tone that he was getting frustrated. It was only a matter of time now. The blackness was drawing closer and the cold was biting into the lower half of his body but none of them moved, intent on Bob, intent on the floating pencil.
    ‘Were you married?’
    ‘Did you have black hair?’
    The questions were getting more inane and Jim’s muscles tensed. It was very close now.
    And then Bob did it. The frustration got too much for him and he asked the wrong question.
    ‘Who are you?’
    And all hell broke loose.
    The blackness surged forward - a wall of cold which froze all four into immobility as the pencil snapped in two pieces and the candle flickered twice before finally going out. Bob was the first to scream as something grabbed his hands, something cold and dead and ugly.
    Jim pressed himself backwards against the wall and listened as the screaming got louder and Bob was lifted into the air. Within the blackness he could just see the eyes, the fiery red embers which grew brighter with each scream.
    Bob was dropped to the floor where he cringed and wept like a baby as the blackness reached for the other two. It never got that far. As one the boys managed to push themselves upright and Jim could hear them, screaming still as they raced off down the hill. It was nearly time for the final act.
    The blackness loomed over Bob as Jim moved towards it. ‘Back!’ he shouted. ‘Go back to your own place.’ The blackness seemed to shrink in on itself and the red embers dimmed. Jim bent down and helped Bob to his feet, noticing with a grimace that the boy had fouled his pants. He turned the boy round to face the blackness.
    ‘Look at this thing.’ he said to Bob. ‘Look at it and remember that I am the one who can control it.’ He held the boy’s head steady, making sure that he was looking straight at the "ghost" before he continued.
    ‘Remember. Anytime you feel like hurting me, anytime you feel like doing a little damage - just remember. Anything happens to me - this will be back.’
    As if on cue the blackness raised itself, filling the room as its eyes blazed like two golden suns and a cold wind ruffled the boys’ hair.
    Jim released the other boy. ‘Go now.’ he said and gave the boy a shove towards the entrance.
    He listened until he was sure that Bob Kerr had gone before he moved forward to embrace his Dad, Dad who had died two years ago, Dad who still always looked after him.
    　
~-oO0Oo-~
    　
The Last Day of Summer
    　
    The sun was trying to push its way through the watery mist as the pair left the house. Mike followed along slightly behind, falling into the same loping walk as the man in front of him. There was a slight chill in the air but he was wearing only a T-shirt, a pair of shorts and a battered pair of trainers. His parents had wanted him to dress properly and, naturally, he had declined. He felt cold and he wished he was older.
    "It’s just not fair."
    He kicked at the loose stones of the path watching them rattle and tumble down the hill. They had come to rest before he started muttering again.
    "I never get to do anything. Just because I’m only thirteen. John Davies is twelve, but he gets to see all the great films. I bet his dad doesn’t think that films rot your brains."
    The man slowed down and now walked alongside the boy. His upper body seemed to stiffen, the lines tightened at the corners of his mouth and the wrinkles by his eyes became visible. Mike didn’t have to look up, he knew the expression would be there - the one which said ‘I am right, you are wrong, I am an adult, you are just a child.’ He had been