Free Ghost of a Chance by Pam Harvey

‘Care ‘n’ Comfort Orphanage, 1965.’ He held the photo up so everyone could see it.
    The grainy photo showed a run-down version of the house they were staying in. A roughly painted sign nailed to the verandah post displayed its name. The curtains on the windows were closed and a startled cat stood on the path leading to the door. A group of children sat around the front steps staring glumly at the camera. Two adults—a man and a woman—stood on either side of the kids, looking just as bored.
    ‘Do you reckon that’s him?’ Hannah asked.
    ‘Who, Ronald Jamison?’ E.D. said. ‘Could be.’
    ‘Doesn’t look very comforting,’ said Gabby. ‘It looks scary. I wouldn’t want to live there.’
    ‘Well, you’re here now,’ said Hannah, studying the photo more closely. ‘This means those children who drowned used to live here. Elizabeth and Sebastian.’
    Gabby rubbed her arms. ‘It’s getting cold in here. Does anyone mind if I shut the window? Ling? Ling! Are you alright?’
    Ling was sitting cross-legged on her bed with her eyes closed. She was shivering, as if she’d been swimming in the cold sea.
    ‘Ling!’ said Angus. ‘Open your eyes.’
    Ling shook her head and lifted a hand. ‘It’s okay. But I think she’s coming.’
    ‘Who?’ said Gabby, looking around her. ‘Mrs Dalrymple?’
    ‘I think she means the…you know,’ Hannah whispered.
    ‘The what?’
    ‘The ghost, Gabby!’ E.D. swept his hair from his face. ‘G-H-O-S-T.’
    Gabby went still. ‘Should…should we stay here? Maybe we should go. You know; it got scared last time.’
    ‘Stay.’ Ling’s voice was almost too quiet to hear.
    ‘Move back,’ said Angus. ‘Give her plenty of room.’
    Leaving Ling on her bed, the others crept over to Hannah’s bed and sat along it with their backs to the wall. The room had become very cold and Hannah pulled her jacket closer. Outside, the sky was dark; the stars just faint pinpricks above the cliffs. As Hannah looked, a sharp flash lit the lighthouse and disappeared again.
    Gabby glanced towards the window. A soft crying, like that of a young child, seemed to come through the open window.
    ‘There’s—’
    ‘Shhh,’ said Angus quietly. ‘It’s happening.’
    Ling closed her eyes. In the middle of the room she could sense a figure faintly hovering. It was a girl dressed in a long T-shirt and skirt. Ling suddenly sat bolt upright, her eyes open. The figure stretched her arm out towards Ling and some soft words drifted through the air.
    ‘Tom…’
    ‘Will…’
    ‘Lighthouse…’
    Ling raised her hand towards the girl’s outstretched arm and for a moment it seemed that their fingers would connect. The girl slowly withdrew her arm and pointed out the window.
    ‘Tom…’
    ‘Will…’
    ‘Keeper…’
    The figure became lighter, as if its energy was fading. Ling reached forward but the girl was gone. She slumped back on the bed, breathing hard.
    No one moved for what seemed like a very long time. The room began to warm up again but Ling was still shivering. Angus went over to her, pulling the doona up around her shoulders. Hannah looked at her watch: 10.51 p.m. The whole event had only taken three, maybe four, minutes.
    ‘Something happened but I didn’t see anything,’ Hannah said at last.
    Ling looked up, her face pale.
    ‘What did you see, Ling?’ asked Gabby sitting at her cousin’s side.
    ‘Guys!’ Ling said softly, turning to them. ‘That article? The girl that drowned. Elizabeth Croft. It’s her.’
    ‘Ling, how do you know that?’ Angus said.
    ‘She said “Tom”. Tom’s her brother, not Will. I know it. I just know it. The ghost is the girl who drowned in the boat accident. Her name is Elizabeth Croft.’
    When the boys left, Gabby tucked Ling in bed and snuggled under her own doona. Hannah was already in bed, her face turned to Gabby. They lay staring at each other in the dark. Ling seemed to fall asleep quickly, but she mumbled and stirred restlessly