Must you repeat everything, darling? It’s quite distracting. Yes, my great-grandmother, Murdina.

‘What? She’s with you?’ Elle asked, stopping the car. What was this—a freaking progressive ghost tour? Ancestors just jumped on board whenever they felt like it?

‘Well? Is this the right way?’

She’s telling me this isn’t the place, Gran finally announced, sounding disappointed.

‘Well, if you can summon past relatives, why don’t you just ask Isla herself where the damn castle is?’

It doesn’t work like that, Gran said with a decided snip in her voice.

‘Then how does it work?’

I don’t know how, Elspeth. I’m somewhat new to this whole death thing myself. She’s just here and I can only tell you what she’s telling me.

Elle didn’t have the emotional strength to try to figure out the afterlife right now; she was cold and hungry and sick of being lost. Rubbing her fingertips across her forehead as she struggled to get her frustration under control, she asked in a calm tone, ‘Are you sure none of this looks familiar?’

No, I’m not sure. The last time I was here I was nine years old.

Oh, for goodness sake. How on earth were they going to find this place? Google said it should be around here. Wasn’t Google supposed to know everything?

‘Look it’s already after two, even if we did find it, there wouldn’t be much time to have a proper look around. Let’s just book into that pub we passed earlier, have some lunch and ask a local where we can find it. We’ll start fresh tomorrow morning. Okay?’ Her question was met with silence. ‘Gran?’ Elle sat still, waiting for some kind of reply, but none came. ‘Righto, then.’ Maybe Gran and Murdina had decided to go and catch up over a cuppa or something. Elle would just carry on with her plan and find a pub. And maybe a stiff drink or two.

FIFTEEN

Fifteen

The pub was just like all the other buildings Elle had seen in this region: white stone with a red roof. She parked out the front and walked inside, instantly feeling the warmth from the fireplace that crackled cheerfully up one end of the room. The bar ran along a wall, where a woman in her mid-forties with bouncy blonde hair smiled a welcome as Elle approached her.

‘What can I get for you?’ she asked in a heavy brogue.

‘I was wondering if you had any rooms available for the night?’

‘Aye, we do. How many guests?’

‘Just the one, thanks,’ Elle said, relieved she would be able to put her feet up very soon instead of having to drive back the way she’d come earlier to find somewhere else to stay.