The Haunting of Maddy Clare Read Online Free Page A

the portrait before. But you’d been in the house for a week. What if you had seen it, and didn’t remember? What if it was in your mind, the night you went to Freddy’s room?”
    “Ah, now.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I hadn’t, but I can pretend along with you. Let’s say I had. I didn’t know who it was. That much was certain. Why would I see him in Freddy’s room?”
    “Easily. You said it looked like Freddy. It would be simple to assume the portrait was a family member. And if it were modern, that would be another clue. And you admit you never saw the apparition’s face.”
    “So my unconscious mind manufactured the entire thing?”
    I suddenly realized what I was saying, and pressed my hand to my mouth. What had gotten into me? This was the first job I’d had in weeks, and Mr. Gellis was nothing but kind. How could I let my tongue run away and insult his experience? He could fire me on the spot and turn the car around anytime he wanted. “I’m sorry. I truly am. I am truly thoughtless. I know nothing about it, of course.”
    But he laughed. “It’s perfectly all right. You’re doing just fine, Miss Piper. I find it useful to have someone challenge the appearance of things, especially on a sighting expedition. I’m used to Matthew filling the role.”
    I recalled the assistant I was replacing, the man with the neat handwriting. “So he is a skeptic, then?”
    Mr. Gellis laughed again. “I’m not sure exactly what Matthew is, but if I figure it out, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
    I didn’t know what to make of that, so I said, “Still, I should hold my tongue.”
    “Your point is taken,” said Mr. Gellis. “But, Miss Piper, I must insist. I know what I saw. I simply know. If you ever see an apparition, a true one, you will know what I mean.”

    We stopped at a pub in a small village at midday, where Mr. Gellis purchased us sandwiches and bottles of milk. We ate quickly, as we needed to get back on the road, Mr. Gellis said, to make Waringstoke by evening.
    As we ate, I thought about what he had said, that pursuing ghosts was the only thing he wanted to do. He had the freedom to do anything he liked. If I could idly pursue anything I wished, what would it be? I couldn’t think of anything.
    “You seem pensive,” he said as we finished. “Are you regretting our agreement?”
    “No. I’m sorry,” I said, standing and brushing the crumbs from my skirt. How selfish of me, to sit moping. “I’m not much used to company.”
    “Neither am I.” He smiled at me. In fact he was so much more at ease than I that he could have been lying; but I sensed an awkwardness in him, deep beneath the surface, and I knew he told the truth. “Female company, especially. Men tend to lose their polish when they know only other men for company.”
    “You are doing perfectly,” I said with truth, as we walked back to the motorcar. “It is I who need to remember my manners. Tell me, does Mr. Ryder share your passion for ghosts?”
    “No one quite shares my passion for ghosts, Miss Piper.” He handed me into the car and closed the door. He came around to the driver’s seat and got in. “But Matthew is a valuable assistant. It isn’t just the notebooks; he usually handles the logistics of trips like these. I’m hopeless with maps. He handles the technical equipment as well.”
    I sat up straighter. “Technical equipment?”
    “The camera. The film. We try to document each manifestation, though photographing a ghost is nearly impossible. Did you know that?”
    “I can imagine, I suppose.”
    “Still, we try. Matthew is good with a camera. He also runs the sound recorder.”
    I stared at him. “Sound recorder?” I had never seen such a thing; I would have no idea how to use it. I felt the chill of true alarm. As it was, I would bumble the camera badly enough.
    Mr. Gellis smiled. “It’s a massive contraption—cost me an arm and a leg. I had it specially made. I’ve no idea