“It could also be a side effect of my medication,” Lucy said, “but I don’t think it is.” She looked down at her plate and started to eat the pancakes before they went cold. At least she hadn’t lost her appetite yet. “I’ve been on the same tablets for weeks now and they’ve never made me hallucinate before,” she said. “But that’s why I thought I’d go back to London anyway. I can see my GP and get checked out.”

“And if she tells you there are no side effects and that you’re not hallucinating, what then?” Cleo asked.

Lucy looked up at the bright blue sky above the roofline. Two pigeons were sitting side by side on a telegraph line and cooing peacefully. “We’re back to the idea that there’s a supernatural phenomenon going on,” she said, shrugging, “but perhaps I will have left it behind at Gunpowder Barn.”

“‘There are always more questions than answers,’” Cleo said thoughtfully. “That’s a Johnny Nash quote, by the way.”

“I thought it was Shakespeare,” Lucy said.

“No, that’s ‘there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.’” Cleo finished her coffee and put the cup down with a contented sigh. “Which is also true.” She tilted her head to one side. “Aren’t you curious to know what’s going on, whether the barn really is haunted, whether you are? Did your arrival at the barn disturb some supernatural force in some way? What is it trying to tell you?”

“Woah!” Lucy held up her fork. “That’s way too many questions.” She sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m conflicted. Verity told me that Charlie MacIntyre had found proof of the connection between the house and Robert Catesby, and that Catesby’s wife was called Catherine. Potentially she could be the ghost, and a part of me wants to find out more about her and a part of me wants—literally—to let sleeping ghosts lie.”

“Well, she isn’t exactly sleeping.” Cleo leaned forward eagerly. “She’s wide awake and trying to tell you something, Luce! I’m disappointed in you,” she added, when Lucy didn’t say anything. “Have you no curiosity? If it was me I’d be itching to find out more about Catherine Catesby.”

“I already know plenty,” Lucy said, thinking of the dreams. “I know she adores Robert and that they had a child called Robbie, and that there was a beautiful garden at the manor when they lived there. I saw a spiral mound in the very first dream I had, and Finn tells me that there were probably two of them in the Tudor gardens. I’ve also dreamed about the manor after it fell into disrepair, which Gabriel, the guy in the heritage center, told me had happened. So I think something terrible must have happened...” She shuddered as though the shadow of Catherine’s despair had brushed over her again. “Something bad happened to Catherine and to the house and garden,” she said. “I feel it and perhaps that’s why I’m reluctant to know more.”