Five Parts Dead by Tim Pegler Read Free Book Online Page B

smacks the ceiling.
    Perhaps it’s the painkillers but after one glass I’m almost levitating. And my Japanese improves…or Hiroshi’s English does. Either way, our jokes seem funnier.
    Mel and I wash up as Hiroshi brings the guest book into the kitchen and leafs through it. ‘Aah,’ he laughs. ‘Our ghost likes wine. It is he who finishes this bottle, not us.’
    â€˜Brilliant,’ Mel squeals. ‘We are sooo having a séance tonight. This place has got to have stories to tell!’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ Pip frowns. ‘We shouldn’t mess with that sort of stuff. You don’t know what could…’
    â€˜Come on, Pip,’ Mel says. ‘You’re the one who’s always telling me to have an open mind about the spirit world. Let’s wait until midnight and give it a go.’ She flings a soggy tea-towel at me and leaps onto Hiroshi’s lap.
    Rosh winks at us. ‘Subarashii! Excell-ento!’
    We move to the lounge and Hiroshi unveils his secret weapon—a bottle of sake transported in his hand-luggage for a special occasion. He disappears to the kitchen and warms the rice wine before returning with four coffee mugs. ‘You Aussies like to, how do you say it, up-size,’ he beams. ‘In Japan we serve sake in very small cups.’
    After a few sips my head is a helium balloon. I’ll be lucky to see midnight without floating away.
    â€˜I’ll tell you a story,’ I begin, ‘while we wait for the witching hour. There’s this property listed for sale in a country town, okay? It’s an old nunnery, no, what do they call it…a convent. Anyway, this joint is vacant and the church decides to sell it. The local paper does a story and they print this rumour that it’s haunted by a murdered nun.
    â€˜It’s winter and the Open-For-Inspections are held when it’s already pretty dark. People are queued up at the gate when someone screams and collapses. When she comes to, she says she saw a nun sweeping through the gardens. The inspection is called off.
    â€˜The next night there’s a crowd hanging around. The estate agent is just unlocking the gate when the nun appears, gliding down the driveway as if her feet don’t touch the ground. People go nuts and the inspection is cancelled again. Someone films the nun on their phone and posts it on YouTube but it’s way too blurry to be sure what it is.
    â€˜At the next Open-For-Inspection, a TV crew turns up. When the nun shows, the cameraman flicks on his spotlight and pins her in the beam. She goes to glide back up to the convent but, as she does, her robes snag on a branch and she falls over. The TV crew run at her and it’s actually a man wearing robes over one of those Segway Personal Transporters. Turns out he was a property developer who wanted to get the lowest possible price for the convent by scaring everyone away. How funny is that?’
    â€˜Did you tell us that story because you don’t believe ghosts exist?’ Pip asks.
    â€˜No. I don’t know whether they do or not. I just like the story…kind of a reminder that, you know, stuff you read and see isn’t always what it seems. I’ve got another one if you like, absolutely one hundred per cent fair dinkum, from when Barney and I…’
    Mel scoffs. ‘Are there any stories about you and Barney that don’t involve someone getting ripped off or maimed? Being friends with him is like an extreme sport.’
    It’s my turn to chuckle. ‘At last, acknowledgment of my courage and athleticism. Thanks.’ A fistful of popcorn rains over me.
    At midnight, Mel finds candles and a clean glass, then scrawls the letters of the alphabet onto the back of a sketchpad we’re using as a ouija board. Outside, the wind grizzles.
    We’re huddling around the board when Mel shrieks, pointing across the room. Batwings jag at the opposite wall,