Page 86 of Crazy Spooky Love
“Isaac, I’m sorry about what happened to Charles,” I say, softly. “It must have come as a terrible blow, I wish I could have told you more tactfully.”
“It’s not as if I ever met him.” He looks at the ground, defeated. “I’d just always hoped his life had been a happy one.”
I wish there was something I could say to lift him, and then I remember that maybe thereis.
“Isaac, look at me.” After a moment he lifts his head and contemplates me with his tired, pale-blue gaze.
“Your grandson, Richard, is here, and he’d very much like to meet you. He’s brought your great-granddaughter, Jojo, with him too. They’ve driven down from Hull, and they’re here right now waiting for us over by the coal chute.”
I turn to Douglas, who’s been hanging back, awkward. “You too, Douglas,” I say. “Richard would be your great-nephew, I think?” I struggle with that stuff.
Douglas looks at his brother. How awful for him to have spent the hundred or more years since his death not certain which of his brothers caused it. He must have his own suspicions though, after all of that time to think it over.
“You go first,” he says. “They’re your family. I’ll join you afterward.”
“My family,” Isaac echoes Douglas’s words, as if they don’t fit in his mouth because he’s never been able to say them before.
“Marina, stay here and listen by the door in case anyone comes back? Douglas is with you.”
“Ready?” I ask Isaac, and when he nods, I lead the way slowly down the steps and across to the coal chute.
“What if they don’t like me?” Isaac asks, and my heart breaks a little; he sounds like a small child meeting a family who might decide to adopt him if he’s a really good boy. In a funny way, I guess that’s kind of what he is; he’s hoping that Richard and Jojo will accept him as part of their history, a new branch on their family tree.
Up ahead I can see the others waiting for us. Richard and Jojo are sitting on upturned crates, and someone, presumably Artie, has tugged another one over for me to perch on opposite them.
“Okay?” I mouth, and they both nod, watching me pensively.
Artie’s face appears momentarily at the coal hatch above. “All quiet up here.”
I throw him the thumbs-up and then turn to the Hensons. “I’m sorry about what happened upstairs. About Donovan turning up like that.”
“I can’t believe we’re related to him.” Jojo shudders.
“Is Grandad with you now?” Richard asks, his eyes scanning the space either side of me even though he must know he’s not going to be able to see Isaac.
I take a deep breath. “Yes. He’s here.”
Isaac is right beside me, and when I turn now to look at him I notice that his clasped hands are shaking.
“He called me Grandad.” He’s gazing at Richard, and then he shakes his head slowly. “He looks a lot like me,” he says, then looks at me, vulnerable. “What do I say to make them understand, Melody?”
I concentrate on him. “Just say whatever’s in your heart, and I’ll repeat it.” I break off to glance at Richard and Jojo. “Is that okay for you guys? Interrupt at any point. Isaac can see and hear you perfectly well.”
I’m glad now that we had the session with Xena earlier in their living room back in Hull, it was kind of like the warm-up act for this, the main event. They’ve had a preview of how this is going to work, and they both nod, then wait for me to speak again. Weird as it may sound, this is familiar territory for me. My family has been passing messages between the living and the dead for a very long time, so this part of my job is the bit I’m most comfortable with. Granted, I haven’t done it under such odd circumstances before. Somewhere overhead Donovan Scarborough is bulldozing his way around the house looking for me, Leo and Fletch are each trying to deflect him for me for their own reasons, and the twins are no doubt scuttling off to let Leo know they’ve trapped us in the cellar. Time is running pretty short.
“I left this house under the darkest of clouds, even though I was an innocent man,” Isaac tells them, through me. “The last thing I expected was to fall in love, but Priscilla was…” he pauses, trying to think of the word to describe Richard’s grandmother. “She was beautiful and kind, the loveliest of girls, and I was a selfish man. I couldn’t stop myself from loving her.” He shakes his head. “I let her believe we could have a future together, and then when it came to it,I left her on her own. I can’t imagine what she went through raising a child alone back then.”
“Nanny Cilla,” Jojo whispers, squeezing Richard’s hand at the familiar mention of her great-gran.
Isaac studies her face for a few seconds as he comprehends what she means, then repeats the phrase with something akin to wonder. “Nanny Cilla. She’ll always be twenty-three to me.”
“I couldn’t bear the idea of my shame becoming hers,” Isaac tells them. “She was too good, too soft to bear it.”
“She never spoke badly of you,” Richard interjects. “But she never told anyone your name either, so we were never able to trace you.”
“For the best,” Isaac says, stoic. “As it should be.”
“I so wish we’d known you,” Jojo cries suddenly, impassioned and tearful, and her dad gives her shoulders a squeeze.
