The Lost Baby: A Ghost Mystery Story (Second Hand Ghosts Book 2) by Gillian Larkin

Author:Gillian Larkin
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2013-03-27T06:00:00+00:00

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.”

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