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down. Maybe consider counseling.”
    “I saw them,” I say firmly. “I’ve seen them several times over the past two years.”
    “I’m sure you have.”
    “But you don’t think they were really there, do you?” I continue. “You think they were in my head.”
    “I can only tell you that I didn’t detect anything in there,” she replies. “Maybe you should think about moving away, though. It can’t be healthy to be -” She pauses, and suddenly something seems to have attracted her attention back toward the house. “Who’s that?” she asks, with a hint of caution in her voice.
    Turning, I look at the kitchen windows, half-expecting to see a figure watching us, but to my relief I realize that there’s no-one. After a moment, however, I spot movement to the left of my field of vision, and finally I see that John is on his porch, looking toward us as he waters his plants.
    “That’s the creepy neighbor I told you about,” Jacqui whispers.
    “Don’t say that!” I hiss, waving at John.
    He waves back, but I can see that he’s very curious about our little gathering.
    “He’s one of those old men who try to get involved in other people’s lives,” Jacqui continues, keeping her voice down. “The guy’s a grade A weirdo.”
    “He’s a friendly neighbor,” I continue, turning back to them. “He also happens to be an award-winning novelist.”
    “Wait,” Louise replies, obviously shocked, “ that’s John Myers? I heard he lived in the neighborhood. I’ve read every single one of his books!”
    “I read a couple,” Jacqui replies. “They’re pretty rubbish, aren’t they?”
    “The man doesn’t believe a word he writes,” Louise replies with disdain. “You can tell from the way he structures his plots, it’s so cynical. He writes about ghosts and paranormal activity, he makes huge amounts of money from his books and film rights, but it’s so obvious that he doesn’t believe. Still, he knows how to string a story together, so I guess that’s why people lap up his work.”
    “I wish he’d spend more time working on his crappy books,” Jacqui mutters, “and less time perving over Beth.”
    “That’s enough!” I hiss.
    “I should be going,” Louise says, reaching out to shake my hand. “I wish you all the luck in the world, and remember, everything I’ve told you is merely my opinion. At the end of the day, the only person who really knows what goes on in that house is you. I just hope you’ll consider all the possible explanations, and… Seriously, think about moving away. Living in that house must be tough. Not all ghosts are supernatural forces. Some are just bad memories.”
    As she heads to her car, I can’t help wondering if she might be right. The problem, however, is that with all the chaos that came into my life two years ago, somehow the house has become a rock of stability. Apart from John, everyone I know has been telling me to move away, but I can’t bring myself to make that break. There’s also the fact that a tiny part of me wants David and Hannah to still be around, even if I only pick up little whispers of them now and again. I’m starting to think that maybe I don’t want to get rid of them.
    “Come on,” Jacqui says, leading me back along the path. “That was a bust, huh?”
    As we get to the back door, I spot John still out on his porch, and it’s clear from the way he’s watching us that he’s intrigued.
    “Busy day?” Jacqui calls out to him.
    “Just getting some chores done,” he replies. “I’ve got a lot of writing to do at the weekend, and I need to prepare for that godawful bookshop appearance.” He pauses for a moment. “Had a friend over, did you?”
    “Actually,” I reply, “she was…” I pause for a moment. “Her name’s Louise. She’s the psychic Jacqui was talking about the other night.”
    “Uh-huh,” he says quietly. “Well, I… How did it go?”
    “You’ll be pleased to know,” I continue, “that she gave