Daisy's Chain: A Cozy Ghost Mystery (Storage Ghost Mysteries Book 5) (2 page)

Chapter 5

Grace felt
herself being lifted up and carried away.

She tried to open
her eyes.

BOOM!

The noise!

It went right
though her skull.

Someone placed
her on a chair. She opened her eyes and saw the concerned faces of Big Bob and
Frankie staring at her.

Frankie put his
hand on her arm. “Grace, are you alright? You just went down, I thought you’d
tripped up at first but then you didn’t get up.”

Grace rubbed her
head. “I don’t know what happened.”

Big Bob handed
her a bottle of water. “Take some slow sips.”

Grace did so. She
didn’t miss the looks that passed between Big Bob and her brother. She’d seen
that look many times in the last 12 months. When her parents died Grace had
gone back to her teaching job. She couldn’t cope with the pressure and had a
very public breakdown. Frankie had been supportive but she often felt him
looking at her as if he was expecting another breakdown.

Imagine what he
would say if she told him she could see ghosts!

Grace tried to
smile. “I think it was just the onset of a bad headache. I’ll be okay.”

Big Bob gave
Frankie an accusing look. “Have you been making Grace work too hard in the
shop? Are you making sure she eats properly? You’re the big brother, Frankie,
you’ve got responsibilities.”

Frankie looked
ashamed. “I have been spending too much time on my computer. I’m sorry, Grace,
I’ll look after you better.”

“I don’t need
looking after. Honestly, it was nothing, I’m fine now.”

Frankie wasn’t
listening. His face lit up as he noticed someone behind her. Grace could guess
who it was.

Sylvester Sylver
crouched down at her side. His skin looked even more tanned close up. She must
look like a … well, a ghost next to him.

“Now then, little
lady, I can’t have you fainting at my auctions! Although it’s quite flattering
to have women swooning at my feet!”

Frankie burst
into laughter. Grace winced, it was far too loud.

Sylvester held
out a cup to Grace. “Here, you need a strong coffee, none of that wishy washy
stuff that you call tea here.”

Grace would have
preferred tea but the coffee would restore her better. She took a sip, it was
deliciously strong and bitter.

Sylvester placed
something in her lap. A chocolate bar. He winked at her and said, “I have to
get back to the auction. Will you be okay?”

A warmth flooded
through Grace. How lovely it was to have people fuss over her, even if she’d
had to collapse to get the attention. She said, “I’ll be fine, thank you.”

Sylvester gave
her one of his Hollywood smiles and walked away. Frankie watched him go,
admiration shining in his eyes. “What a guy,” he said.

Big Bob gave a
deep cough.

“What?” Frankie
said. He caught Big Bob’s look. “Oh yeah, Grace, are you okay? Do you want to
sit in the van?”

Grace looked
around. She was sitting a few feet away from the lockers, she could still see
everything. In fact, it was quite nice sitting here with coffee and chocolate.

“I’ll be fine
here.”

“We’ll just be
over there,” Big Bob said.

He walked away,
Frankie at his side.

Grace could hear
the banging but it was fainter. Where was it coming from?

She drunk her
coffee, ate her medicinal chocolate bar and watched the auction.

She didn’t see
any more ghosts. Her mind wandered as she thought about her school job. It was
still open, she had to make a decision about going back soon. She wasn’t sure
she wanted to, but what else could she do?

BANG! BANG!

Grace jumped as
the noise echoed around her brain.

It was louder
than ever. She stood up. Where was it coming from?

A sudden chill
shot down her back.

She could now see
where the noise was coming from.

Chapter 6

The latest
storage locker had been opened. Inside were piles and piles of bulging plastic
bags.

She heard someone
call out, “Charity scam! We don’t want this, Sylvester! Shut the door!”

Other people
joined in with the jeering.

Grace didn’t pay
them attention.

There was a ghost
inside the locker, standing on the pile of bags. The ghost of a man. He looked
to be in his sixties. He was bald and was wearing a grey fastened up shirt and
smart trousers.

The man was
surrounded by a black cloud, it was like a full body halo. Grace had never seen
anything like it before. The man was banging on the metal side of the locker
with his ghost fist. Every time he banged the cloud shimmered and grew bigger,
almost like it was feeding off the anger radiating from the man.

Grace sucked her
breath in, she had seen angry people before but nothing like this man. His
whole face was contorted with rage as he kept banging his fist on the side of
the locker. She didn’t even know that ghosts could connect with solid things.

Grace was aware
of the auction in the background.

No one wanted
this locker.

She didn’t blame
them. Who wanted to sift through stuff that had already been sifted through?

Grace couldn’t
help herself, she walked closer. She could smell the aroma of unwashed clothes.
She looked up at the man again at the top of the pile.

The man stopped
in mid bang. He narrowed his eyes and looked straight at Grace, hate shooting
towards her.

Grace felt a
scream rising in her throat. She swallowed it back down.

The man pointed a
bony finger at her. “You! You can see me! Get me out! Now!”

Grace couldn’t
move, she just stared at the man.

“Idiot girl! Get
me out!” the man yelled.

Grace tried to
turn away. He could bang all he liked, she didn’t want anything to do with him.
She focused her attention on Sylvester.

“Come on, folks,
I know it’s not the best locker but there could be treasure hidden in there.
Who will give me £10? No? £5? No? It must be worth one pound to someone?”

Grace felt
someone grab her arm. She looked to her side, there was no one there.

Her arm started
to rise. What was going on?

She heard a nasty
laugh. She looked at the ghost in the locker. He was smirking at her.

Her arm raised up
higher, Grace tried to lower it but it felt like she was pushing against a
wall. Sweat began to form on her forehead. She shook her head at the man.

His smirk grew,
he said, “You’ll do what I want you to do.”

“Sold!” Sylvester
cried out.

Grace knew who
had bought the junk filled locker.

Frankie was at
her side in a second. “Grace! What the hell! Why have you bought this? I’m not
filling the van up with this stinky mess. And it’s certainly not going back to
the shop! What were you thinking?”

Grace’s arm
dropped to her side. She looked from the ghost to Frankie. She didn’t know what
to say.

Big Bob walked
over and gave her a little smile. “Well, that’s a fine mess you’ve got yourself
into, Grace.”

She gave him a
weak smile. “I couldn’t bear the thought of all those charity bags being left
there,” she lied.

Frankie shook his
head. “Never bid with your heart, Grace, everyone knows that. You’ll have to
sort this out, I’m going to look at other lockers.”

Big Bob gave her
a kind look. “We all make mistakes. Let me know if you need any help shifting
this. There are some charity shops nearby, they might collect them.”

Grace gave a
little nod. She watched everyone walk away to the next set of lockers. She
ignored the pitying looks that the other bidders gave her. She was on her own.

Why did she have
to see ghosts?

Her eyes
prickled.

She blinked a few
times, there was no point feeling sorry for herself. She lifted her chin and
turned to face the evil ghost that had forced her to bid.

Chapter 7

The man was now
standing at the front of the unit. Grace didn’t like the satisfied look on his
face.

“Well?” he began.
“Are you going to get me out of here now?”

“Did you force me
to raise my arm?” Grace asked, although she already knew the answer.

“No one else was
going to waste their money on this rubbish. As soon as I saw you I knew I could
influence you. I didn’t think it would work so well, you must be weaker than I
thought.”

Grace looked
closer at the man. His face wasn’t as contorted with rage now but she could see
the anger in his eyes. There was also a calculating look too, as if he was working
out how to influence her further.

Grace said, “I
can see you because I can see ghosts. You do know  you’re dead, don’t you? I
have helped ghosts before from these kind of storage units. I helped them
because I wanted to. I don’t want to help you.”

She stop talking
to see what his response would be.

He looked her up
and down. “I didn’t ask for your help, I never ask for help. I’m ordering you
to do what I want.”

Grace took a step
closer to him, her resolve feeling braver than her suddenly weak legs. She
said, “No.”

“But you have to!
I have to get out of this place! I have to see her!”

Grace faltered.
“You have to see who?”

“My wife. She
needs my help, I just know it.”

The man’s
features altered from anger to concern. Grace wasn’t entirely convinced,  there
was still a flicker of hate in his eyes although the black halo around him had
diminished slightly.

“Please,” the man
added.

“You could tell
me more about your problem, then I can decide if I can help,” Grace offered.
“And I mean help, I’m not taking orders from you.”

The man raised
his arms helplessly and said, “I don’t know what the problem is. June, my wife,
she always turned to me for advice. I can feel that there is some sort of
decision that she needs to make, she needs my opinion. It’s important. Please.”

Grace sighed. She
was such a pushover at times. “Okay, I’ll help but no more forcing me to do
things against my will.”

“Okay. Now can
you get me out,” he said.

Grace surveyed
the piles of bags. “When I’ve helped ghosts before they’ve been attached to
something, usually something that belonged to them. Silly question, but do you
recognise anything in here?”

“No, and I’ve
been in here a while. Can’t you just look through all of them? I need to get to
my wife.”

“I can’t look
through them all, it would take hours.”

Grace didn’t want
to look through the bags, the unwashed smell was even stronger now. What if
there were rats under all these bags?

Something that
Big Bob said came to mind. She took out her phone and went online. She soon
found what she wanted.

“We haven’t got
time for phone calls! What is it about you young people and your phones! Can’t
you live without them?”

Grace raised an
eyebrow at the man and gave him a cold look. “I’m phoning a charity shop to see
if they can come and collect these bags. Then we could see which one you’re
attached to.”

The man folded
his arms and nodded. “I see. Tell them to hurry.”

Grace turned away
as she talked to someone on her phone.

There was
something about this ghost that she didn’t like.

She knew for
certain that she didn’t trust him.

Chapter 8

The
first two charity shops didn’t want to know. The man at the third one laughed
at her and put the phone down. The fourth agreed to come round, on the proviso
that Grace pay them £50.

Grace
had no option but to agree. She didn’t understand how a charity shop could
charge, they’d told her it was for expenses, Grace wasn’t convinced.

“Well?”
the man asked. “Have you sorted it out?”

Grace
put her phone away. “Someone will be here within the hour.”

The
man threw his hands up in despair. “Are you just going to stand there and wait!
Why don’t you start taking these bags out, I might be, what was it you said?
Attached? I might be attached to the first few bags.”

Grace
shook her head. “I can’t just line them up outside, they’ll be in the way.
You’ll have to be patient, Mr …”

“Mr
Manville, Dan Manville. You can call me Mr Manville. You could move a couple of
bags.”

Mr
Manville? More like Mr Meanville, Grace thought.

Grace
heard some voices. She turned away from Mr Manville. Frankie and Big Bob walked
over to her.

Frankie
smiled when he saw the locker again. “Well, what are you going to do with all
that?”

“I’ve
phoned a charity shop, they’re coming to collect it.”

Frankie
took his phone out. “You don’t mind if I film you, do you? I could put this on
my site under the heading of what not to do.”

Grace
frowned at him and tried to defend herself. “It’s all going to charity, where
it should have gone in the first place.”

“Is
that a no?” Frankie asked, holding his phone up.

Big
Bob stepped in. “It’s a no. Do you want us to wait with you, Grace?”

“No,
thanks, I’ll be fine,” Grace said. She wouldn’t be able to talk to the grumpy
ghost if there were people around. She said to Frankie, “I’ll get the bus
home.”

“Okay.
See you later. I‘ll settle your account at the office. You can pay me the £1
later,” Frankie said. He started to walk away.

Big
Bob said, “Give me a ring if you need any help.”

“Will
do, thanks again. Bye.”

As
soon as Frankie and Big Bob left Mr Manville said, “Who was that big fella?
Your dad?”

“No,
a friend but he acts like my dad sometimes, he’s really kind.”

“Pah!
Kindness doesn’t get you anywhere! People take advantage and throw kindness in
your face.”

Grace
raised her eyebrows at his outburst but didn’t say anything. Mr Manville looked
like he enjoyed arguing.

The
charity van arrived one hour later. Mr Manville refused to talk to Grace until
he left the locker, Grace was fine with that.

The
two young men that got out of the van swore when they saw the locker.

One
of them said, “We’ll take the money up front.”

Grace
shook her head, she must look like a soft touch. “I’ll pay you when every bag
has been put in your van.”

The
men gave her a look and walked into the locker. Grace was tempted to help them
but was sure that if she started they’d let her do all of it. She walked
slightly away from the locker and watched as each bag was moved. Mr Manville
came to the front of the locker. As each bag left the locker he stayed right
where he was.

Grace
put her hand over her nose. The smell was getting worse. Was it her imagination
or could she hear the scampering of tiny paws in the corners of the locker?

The
young men were sweating profusely and adding to the general aromatic air.

Grace
began to get worried as they shifted the last few bags. Mr Manville wasn’t
moving. She could tell by his expression that he was getting worried too. What
would they do if he wasn’t attached to anything?

A
dreadful thought occurred to Grace. What if they actually had to empty each bag
to search the items inside? Her heart sank. She didn’t want to do that but knew
that she’d have to if needed.

They
were down to the last bag. One of the men picked it up and walked out of the
locker.

Grace
held her breath and looked at Mr Manville. He didn’t move.

The
man flung the bag into the back of the van.

There
was a blur as Mr Manville flew out of the locker and into the van.

The
charity man reached up to close the van door.

“Stop!” Grace called
out.