The Lost Baby: A Ghost Mystery Story (Second Hand Ghosts Book 2) Read online

  “She hung around for ages. She got a tape measurer out and started going around the shop with it. I told her that until she can prove that she owns the shop she can clear off!” Carol said.

  “I really don’t want her as a boss. If Rose had made a will where do you think she might have put it?” I asked.

  “In her knicker drawer, for all I know. She had a peculiar filing system. I used to find receipts inside the biscuit tin. Shall we start having a look for it? We might be lucky,” Carol suggested.

  I smiled. “Okay, but I’m not looking in her knicker drawer!”

  We started to look around the shop for the elusive will. I hadn’t forgotten about Sylvia and her missing baby, I just didn’t know where to start looking. Sylvia didn’t know when her baby was born, or what her name was. She was sure that some of the baby clothes belonged to her baby – but I had no idea where they had come from.

  Sylvia was in her fifties or sixties, her missing baby wouldn’t be a baby anymore.

  The door of the shop opened and a nervous looking woman stepped in. She was probably in her early thirties.

  Carol walked over to her and asked if she could help.

  “I hope so,” the woman gave a little smile. “Did you find a box of baby clothes yesterday? It might have been left outside your door.”

  Carol put her hands on her hips and glared at the woman, “Yes we did find a box. Kate nearly broke her neck on it! We’re not a charity shop, you know. We don’t take rubbish!”

  “I’m so sorry. My husband left them there. He shouldn’t have done that. I wonder if I could have them back,” the woman said quietly.

  Carol yelled over to me, “Kate! What did you do with that box of rubbish?”

  I walked over to Carol, I didn’t want to be yelling in the shop. Not in front of a customer anyway.

  I looked closer at the woman. Was this the lost baby that Sylvia told me about. I peered a bit closer. I wasn’t sure if there was any family resemblance.

  “I took the box home,” I explained to the woman. “I meant to bring it back to the shop today but I forgot. I can bring them back tomorrow if that would be any good?”

  The woman looked as if she was about to cry. “Could I have the box back today? I’d really like the clothes back as soon as I can. I can’t have children, you see. Me and my husband have tried everything. He saw me looking at the baby clothes the other day. He must have given them away because he saw how upset I was. The clothes have been in my mum’s family for years.”

  I nodded. So this was the lost baby! Well, not a baby anymore. Maybe Sylvia had something to say to her daughter and she needed me to tell her what it was.

  “If you give me your address I can call round in my lunch hour with the box. Would that be okay?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes, thank you,” the woman smiled. She gave me her address and told me her name was Julia Stephenson.

  I promised to see her later and she left the shop, looking happier.

  I continued searching the shop for Rose’s will. As I did so I wondered what would be the best way to tell Julia Stephenson that her dead mother was in my house.

  Chapter 8

  At lunch time I rushed home and put the box of baby clothes in my car. Julia didn’t live far away and it only took me five minutes to drive there.

  I was impressed with her house. It was a large modern detached house, possibly with four or five bedrooms. The sort of house that Emily and I sometimes dreamt about having. Although we’d have to insist that there was a swimming pool or we just wouldn’t bother moving in.

  I parked in the private drive, picked the box up and got out of my car. I knocked at the door.

  An angry looking man answered. His glare almost knocked me off me feet.

  “Yes?” he barked at me. Then he noticed the box I was holding. “Why have you brought that here? We don’t want it. Take it away!”

  “Julia asked me to bring it round,” I said, trying not to be intimidated by him.

  “I’m Julia’s husband and I can tell you that she does not want that stuff. Goodbye!”

  The man looked like he was about to slam the door in my face. Someone pushed him to one side.

  It was Julia. She held her hands out, “Thank you for bringing my things back. I must apologise for my husband, he’s not always like this.”

  I handed the box to Julia. “Could I have a word with you? About something in the box?”

  The last thing I wanted to do was go inside their house and be shouted at by the angry husband, but I had told Sylvia I would find her lost baby.

  Julia opened the door wider and said, “Of course, please come in.”

  She set the box down in the hall and showed me into the front room. It looked clean and beautifully furnished. It was difficult for me to appreciate it as Julia’s husband was right behind me. I could hear him huffing angrily.

  Julia invited me to sit down on the sofa. She sat opposite me. Her husband sat next to her and glared at me.

  I didn’t know how to begin so I just jumped in. “I think your mother is in my house, and I think she has a message for you.”

  Julia frowned, “My mother’s in Spain. She sent me a text this morning.”

  Oh. So Sylvia wasn’t Julia’s mother. Or was she? Perhaps she was Julia’s real mother and for some reason had to give her up for adoption. That would explain Sylvia saying that her baby was lost.

  This was a delicate situation. How could I say this diplomatically? I couldn’t so I just jumped in again.

  “This will sound crazy but I can see ghosts. It only started recently. And a woman, a dead woman, is in my house and she’s looking for her baby. She turned up when I took your baby things home so I think she is somehow related to you. Perhaps your real mother?”

  Mr Stephenson jumped to his feet and shouted, “How dare you come here talking such nonsense? What are you? Some sort of con woman trying to make us believe you can see ghosts? Get out of our home! Now!”

  He stepped towards me. I stood up quickly and protectively held my bag in front of me. I looked at Julia. She looked confused.

  “I don’t know why you’re saying these things. My mum is my real mum. Why would she lie to me? That’s an awful thing to say. Please leave,” Julia said.

  I walked quickly out of the room. Mr Stephenson already had the front door open.

  As I stepped towards the door a photograph on the wall caught my eye.

  I gasped and pointed, “That’s her! That’s Sylvia, the ghost in my house!”

  Chapter 9

  Mr Stephenson grabbed my elbow and tried to push me out of the door. I wriggled free and called out to Julia.

  “That’s the woman. Please tell me who she is and then I’ll leave,” I said.

  Julia walked closer to the photograph and looked at the woman I was pointing at.

  “It’s a photo of my mum’s family when she was young. I don’t know who that woman is though. Mum’s never spoken about her. Are you sure that’s the woman you’ve seen?”

  “Don’t listen to her! She’s a charlatan!” Mr Stephenson said.

  I ignored him, “Please could you find out who she is? You don’t have to believe that I can see ghosts. And I’m certainly not trying to trick you. Please, Julia. This woman is trying to find her lost baby.”

  Julia’s face softened. “I’ll speak to my mum. Ghost or not, if a mum is looking for her baby then I’ll help you.”

  I said thank you to Julia and took one more look at the photograph. It must have been taken about 40 years ago judging by how young Sylvia looked. She looked happy.

  I gave Julia my number. She said she’d phone me as soon as she’d spoken to her mum.

  I drove back to the shop. Carol still hadn’t found Rose’s will.

  I couldn’t stop thinking about Sylvia and her baby.

  Sylvia turned up later just as I was putting Emily to bed. I told her I was still trying to find her baby. She smiled and said, “I know you’ll find her. Thank yo
u.”

  Sylvia asked if she could cuddle Emily. Emily was okay with that even though she said Sylvia gave cold cuddles.

  The baby blanket that belonged to Sylvia was still wrapped around Emily’s doll. I’d forgotten all about it, I should have given it back to Julia

  Julia finally phoned me at 10 O’clock.

  She sounded upset.

  “The lady in the photo is my mum’s sister, Sylvia, like you said. Mum doesn’t talk about her because Sylvia lived in a mental institution for most of her life. Sylvia died in her sleep last year,” Julia explained.

  “Did Sylvia have a baby?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Julia said quietly, “But the baby died ten minutes after it was born.”

  Chapter 10

  I said goodbye to Julia and put the phone down. I could feel Sylvia behind me.

  I turned around.

  Sylvia said, “Your little girl is lovely, and Emily is such a lovely name. I can’t remember the name I was going to give my baby. I don’t even know what she’s called now. When you find her you can tell me, can’t you?”

  I asked Sylvia to sit down. I told her as gently as I could what Julia had told me.

  “No! That’s not true!” Sylvia flew up into the air and began to shoot around my room, her gown flowing out behind her. “They’re lying! I saw my baby. I held her. I heard her cry as they took her away!”

  Sylvia began to wail as she flew around. It took me a few minutes of talking quietly to get her to calm down. She sat next to me again.

  When she did I asked her to explain herself more clearly.

  “When I found out I was pregnant I was sent to a special home, where unmarried mothers went. Oh! My family were so ashamed of me! But I didn’t care, I’d always wanted a child. When I had my little girl I was so happy. She had the fattest cheeks I’d ever seen on a baby!” Sylvia smiled at the memory.

  Then she stopped smiling. She put her hands on the side of her face. She looked horrified as she remembered something.

  “They stole my baby! The doctors, and the nurses. They said she had died, but I heard her crying in the next room. I knew it was my baby. I could feel it in my heart. You do believe me, don’t you? Please say you do. I need to find my baby. I think she needs my help.”

  I looked at Sylvia’s face. I did believe her. There was one thing I needed to clarify.

  “Julia said that you lived in a mental institution for most of your life. Why is that?” I asked.

  Sylvia gave me such a sad smile that my heart felt heavier. She said, “It’s because I kept looking for my baby. Everyone told me she was dead but I just knew she wasn’t. They thought I’d gone crazy. If my baby was dead, why didn’t they show me her body?”

  I didn’t have an answer to that. “Can you remember the name of the mothers’s home you were sent to?”

  Sylvia shook her head, “It was a long time ago. Oh! Just a minute. I can remember the date that my little girl was born. 9th July 1975. Does that help?”

  It was a start. I didn’t know where to begin looking but I was determined to find Sylvia’s daughter.

  Chapter 11

  The next day at work I spent some time on the computer trying to find out information about unmarried mothers’ homes. There wasn’t much to go on. It seemed like any information had been hidden away from the internet. I didn’t think unmarried mothers still had a stigma attached to them as late as the 1970s. It’s something that I thought used to go on in 50s and before.

  I was tapping away at the computer when Carol walked over to me.

  “If you feel like doing any work today, that would be great. You know, clean up, deal with customers, that sort of thing,” Carol said sarcastically.

  I sighed, “I will. I’ve got a problem and I promised someone I’d help them. But I’m not sure I can yet.”

  Carol wrinkled her nose, “Is it to do with a ghost? You know I said I don’t want anything to do with them. Rose never bothered me when she dealt with them, and I don’t expect you to either.”

  I blurted out, “It’s a mother who’s lost her baby.”

  Carol’s face fell. “What?” she whispered.

  I quickly told her the whole story. She sat down next to me and stared at the computer screen while I talked.

  Finally she said, “I’ve heard of this happening before. One of my mother’s friends went into one of those homes. They told her that her baby son died the night after she had him. Do you know what my mother’s friend did, Kate? She was so devastated that she killed herself. Sometime later we found out that the baby hadn’t died, the girl’s father had arranged for the little boy to be adopted by a couple in Scotland.”

  “Oh, Carol, I’m so sorry,” I put my hand on Carol’s arm.

  She shrugged it off and said briskly, “Well, it happened a long time ago. Would you like me to help you find that home? I think I can remember the name of it.”

  “If you don’t mind, thank you,” I said.

  “Just don’t expect me to talk to any of your dead people. And you can make yourself useful and put the kettle on,” Carol ordered. She shoved me out of the way and began to tap at the computer keys.

  When I came back with two cups of tea Carol had some news for me.

  “I found the home alright. But it burnt down in 1977,” Carol said.

  I sighed, “What can we do now?”

  Carol gave me a withering look, “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. Sup your tea. We’ve got somewhere to go.”

  Chapter 12

  When we’d finished our tea Carol closed the shop and marched down to the town hall. I ran after her.

  She curtly waved to the security guard as we walked in. He didn’t stop her. By the scared look on his face I think he’d had dealings with Carol before.

  “What are we doing here?” I asked.

  “We’re going to talk to someone who deals with births and legal stuff. Well, I am. You can stay here and keep quiet,” Carol told me.

  “Don’t you need an appointment?” I said.

  Carol was looking at a board with names and office numbers listed on it. “I don’t need an appointment. I used to work here years ago. I left because I couldn’t stand all the miserable people that came in asking for help.”

  “The public?” I said.

  “Aye, the public. Anyway, I know who I need to talk to. They’re on the second floor. I won’t be long,” Carol said and she walked briskly up the stairs.

  I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Carol.

  I walked down a tiled corridor and found a wooden bench to sit on. I looked at the portraits hung on the walls. Pictures of past mayors and mill owners. All men, and all stern looking. Most of them had bushy beards and even bushier eyebrows.

  “What are you doing in here?” a loud voice made me jump.

  I looked up to see a stern looking, hairy man glaring at me.

  “I’m waiting for my friend,” I said indignantly.

  Another hairy man joined the first. He pointed at me and yelled, “We don’t allow women in here! Especially not women of the street who are showing their ankles. You harlot!”

  It took me a few seconds to realise I was being verbally abused by ghosts. Women hating ghosts at that.

  Some more hairy men joined the first two. They sneered at me.

  “Stumpet!”

  “Painted whore!”

  “Leave our town hall at once!”

  I was thoroughly annoyed at the way they were speaking to me but there were too many hairy men for me to deal with.

  I proudly got to me feet, secretly feeling pleased that I was slightly taller than all of them. I looked down at them and scathingly said, “I’m leaving because I want to. May I suggest that you all go and shave your furry faces!”

  I walked out of the town hall as quickly as I could. I wouldn’t be going back in there anytime soon.

  I walked across to the bakery and bought myself a hot sausage roll. By the time I had finished eating it Caro
l had joined me.

  She handed me a piece of paper and said, “Don’t ask me how I got this information. I’ve found out that Sylvia’s daughter didn’t die. She was adopted by a couple from Manchester.”

  “Do we know where she lives now?” I asked.

  Carol nodded. “She lives about ten minutes away. I’ve got her full name, address, telephone number and email address.”

  I was beginning to think Carol was a secret spy.

  I opened the paper. Sylvia’s daughter was called Debra Brown.

  “Thank you, I don’t think I’d have found this out on my own,” I said.

  Carol looked over at the bakery, “A cream doughnut will be thanks enough.”

  I walked over to the bakery.

  All I had to do now was speak to Debra and casually tell her that she was adopted and that her dead mother was looking for her.

  Chapter 13

  Being a coward, I decided to email Debra first. I wrote that I worked in a second hand shop and that I thought we’d found something that belonged to her or her family. I put the shop’s telephone number and my own.

  It was nearly time to pick Emily up from school so I headed into the kitchen for my bag. I could hear my phone ringing. I didn’t recognise the caller’s number as I answered.

  “Is that Kate? Are you the one who emailed me? Is it about my mum? Have you found her?” a woman’s hurried voice gushed out.

  “Yes, it’s Kate. Is that Debra?” I asked.

  The woman laughed, “Sorry, yes but call me Debbie, everyone does. Sorry about all the questions but I feel like I’ve been waiting for information about my family for years.”

  “You mentioned your mother?” I prompted Debbie.

  “Yes. I found out ages ago that I’m adopted and I’ve been looking for my real mum. All I found out was that she lives in Leeds. Oh, hang on, my little boy needs the toilet. Can I phone you back in a bit?” Debbie asked.

  I looked at my watch. I had to set off for school.

  “Could I come round to your house later on tonight?” I asked.