Archive of Our Own ^beta

‘What’s this?’ Alison asks, looking down at the scrappy piece of note paper that Mike has just put down in front of her.

‘It’s a list of ways I can talk to them,’ Mike says, sitting down beside her at the kitchen table.

‘Who?’

‘The ghosts. See,’ he says, pointing at the list he’s made, ‘I’ve thought about the powers some of them have and how we could use those so I can speak to them, even if I can’t see them.’ He taps the underlined words at the top of the paper. ‘I call it Project Chatterbox.’

‘Very clever,’ Alison says, studying the first suggestion on the list. ‘Get Robin to use lights for Morse cod. What’s a Morse cod? Some sort of fish detective?’

‘Oops, missed a letter,’ Mike says, grabbing his pen off the table and scribbling the missing figure down at the end of the sentence.

‘I don’t think Robin knows Morse code, Mike. And neither do you,’ she says.

‘We could learn though, right? You do the crosswords with him, so we know he can spell.’

‘I think Humphrey taught him though, so his spelling can be a bit ye old-y English-y,’ Alison says, spooning up a big scoop of Coco Pops.

Mike frowns, gets up, and goes over to the cupboard. Glancing over her shoulder, Alison can see he’s studying his ghost chart. He runs his finger across it.

‘There’s no Humphrey here,’ he says. ‘Do we have a new ghost? How did that happen?’ 

Alison winces. There’s a very specific reason why she hadn’t included Humphrey on the ghost chart.

‘No, no, he’s been here a while…’ she says.

‘So why isn’t he on there then?’ Mike asks, returning to his seat. ‘Oh, I get it. He’s fit, isn’t he? There’s a really fit ghost so you didn’t tell me about him.’

Alison lets her spoon rest in her bowl.

‘That’s really not it,’ she says. She leans back in her chair and considers her choice of words. ‘Humphrey is… Well, he’s from the Tudor times. His grandfather had this house built, and he was married to a French lady when they were both quite young. And he’s… a head.’

Mike drops the pen he’d been twiddling in his fingers.

‘What.’

‘But he’s also a body!’ Alison continues. ‘It’s just, sometimes, his head and his body aren’t together. Most of the time, really.’

‘You’re telling me there’s a random ghost head just lying around our house?’

‘Well, last I saw him he was in the TV room watching Homes Under the Hammer.’

‘And there’s a headless body out there too, just roaming?’

‘It likes it in the attics.’

‘You’re joking. Oh my god, Alison, tell me you’re joking.’

‘He’s really very nice though, definitely less demanding than most of the others.’

‘But how does he get around if he’s just a head?’

‘The others carry him.’

Mike presses the heels of his hands hard into his eyeballs, elbows resting on the table.

‘So, our regular ghosts are sometimes just wandering around the house, carrying the head of another ghost with them?’

‘And this is why I didn’t put Humphrey on your chart.’

Mike lets out a long breath and looks up.

‘Still want to talk to them?’ Alison asks him.

‘Why not?’ he says. ‘Apparently I’ve got the head of some rich Tudor guy to get to know.’

*~*

1. Get Robin to use lights for Morse Code

Robin is more than happy to go along with Mike’s idea. Alison suspects this is partly because he genuinely would like to be able to talk to Mike, but largely because in doing so he’s been given permission to play with the electrics.

Word of the project has got around, and several of the other ghosts have come to watch events unfold. The Captain has made it very clear that, although Alison has a web page up of Morse code for Mike and Robin to refer to, he needs to be there as an expert translator should there be any problems. Pat is watching on as a general enthusiast of coded communications, along with Kitty who’s very keen to pass a message on to Mike if this works.

Knowing how Robin’s enthusiasm for sparking lightbulbs can blow out the fuses, Alison has dug out a particularly ugly old lamp from Heather Button’s ugly lamp collection for use in the experiment. Alison places the lamp down on the coffee table, removes the frilly lampshade, and switches it on.

‘I guess you can just talk out loud then, Mike, and Robin will reply by flashing the light,’ she says, to which Mike nods.

‘Where is he?’ Mike asks.

Alison points to where Robin is sat on the sofa just beside Mike.

Mike seems surprised.

‘Just by there?’

‘He needs to see the laptop screen too, doesn’t he?’

Mike shifts on the sofa and looks to his left, looking slightly above where Robin’s face actually is.

‘I down here,’ Robin says, waving futilely at Mike.

‘Hello,’ Mike says, sounding out each syllable. ‘How are you?’

Robin looks to Alison, who gives him the nod. At this, Robin raises his hand, straining his fingers at the lamp and grunting as the lightbulb flickers.

‘You need to clearly distinguish between your dots and dashes, man,’ the Captain says from behind the sofa. ‘How’s he supposed to tell the difference when your dashes are so short?’

‘You no know what me saying!’ Robin replies between grunts. ‘So bossy boots.’

‘That looks like three dashes, so an O,’ says Mike, staring hard at the lamp.

‘It’s working!’ Kitty cheers. ‘Keep going, Robin.’

‘And then… another dash… A dot… Ah, it’s a K! He said ok!’

Alison looks to Robin, who nods, then slumps back against the sofa.

‘You alright there, mate?’ Pat asks the caveman.

‘Hard work,’ Robin says. ‘Like lamp fight back.’

Alison bites her lip.

‘We can try something else,’ she says.

‘No, me good,’ says Robin, pushing himself back up. ‘Me can win fight, is just stupid lamp.’

‘Ask him something else, Mike,’ Alison says.

‘Ok, hmmm… Huh. What do I ask a caveman?’

‘There’s more to me than that,’ Robin says with a pout.

‘He says there’s more to him than that,’ Alison relays back to Mike. ‘He likes chess.’

‘And Zumba,’ Robin adds.

‘How about… What’s your favourite chess piece?’ Mike tries, still addressing the space above Robin’s head.

Robin consults the Morse code guide and gets to work on the lamp.

‘Elongate your dashes, Robin,’ the Captain instructs.

‘You need your eyes looking at, Cap, leave him alone, he’s doing fine,’ Pat says.

‘I can see a dot and two dashes,’ Kitty says, leaning in towards the laptop screen. ‘W? And now an I?’

Mike writes the letters down as Robin flashes them.

‘This can’t be right,’ he says once the lamp stops flickering. ‘Did he just write willy? Is that what he meant?’

‘Bishop,’ the Captain says, clearing his throat and nodding his head at the chess board across the room. ‘He means the bishop.’

‘It’s the shape,’ Pat adds. ‘Julian must have told him a thousand times that it’s called a bishop.’

Robin grins, bearing all his teeth.

‘Willy,’ he says, clearly pleased with himself.

Alison explains what’s just happened and Mike looks round at the chess set. He shrugs.

‘I see what he means. This is so cool, it’s actually working! I know what I’m going to ask him next – did you ever eat mammoth?’

It happens as Robin hits the final dash of the letter Y – the light bulb in the lamp explodes and Robin is thrown back through the sofa. The others jump aside, all shouting over one another, and Mike yelps as the glass from the bulb showers him.

‘That nearly got me in the eye!’ he says.

Alison uncovers her own face and looks around at the state of disarray. Robin pushes himself up off the ground, coughing.

‘Ok, lamp win this time,’ he says.

‘Maybe we’ll save this method for emergencies,’ Alison says, picking a small shard of glass out of her hair. ‘What’s next on your list?’

Mike consults his Project Chatterbox scrap of paper.

‘I don’t know if you’re going to like it…’ he says.

*~*

2. Julian and the Weejie Ouija Board

‘I found this in the attic,’ Mike says, putting the dusty box down on the coffee table, beside the remains of the lamp. He swipes a hand across the cover, revealing the faded artwork underneath.

‘That belonged to my George,’ Fanny comments, peering over the sofa at the box. The bang of the exploding light bulb had drawn the rest of the ghosts to the common room, and they’ve circled around Mike like he’s a zoo animal.

‘They were all the rage at the time,’ she continues. ‘George and his pals would bring it out after a few drinks. Foolish waste of money, of course, attempting to commune with spirits.’

‘Fanny,’ Alison says evenly. ‘You are a ghost.’

‘It’s not like any of this lot could have operated the thing at the time!’ Fanny says, turning her nose up.

‘We did try,’ says Thomas.

‘We heard Lord Button say the device was meant for communicating with spirits,’ adds Kitty. ‘We all of us took turns in attempting to reply.’

‘We wanted to ask you to leave the candles burning later into the evening,’ says Thomas.

‘But it dids not work,’ says Mary. ‘The devil does not communes through this one.’

The skin on the back of Alison’s neck crawls as she watches Mike unbox the Ouija board. She and her friend Emily had played with one on a sleepover when they were thirteen, and were terrified to find it actually worked. She knows now that it was probably just some bored ghost like Julian messing around with them for something to do, but it makes her feel sick all the same. Her mum hadn’t let her go back to Emily’s for another sleepover after that incident, but Emily had passed Alison a note in Geography class to say that she had burnt the board in the woods behind her house.

Julian cracks his knuckles. He’s sat where Robin had been, beside Mike on the sofa.

‘I’m quite tired, you know,’ he says. ‘So don’t blame me if this doesn’t work.’

‘That what he say to all the girls,’ Robin says with a grin.

‘Ehhhh, Robin,’ Julian starts, bringing a finger up ready to wag in the ancient man’s face. He pauses. ‘Never mind, that was quite good actually. I can dish it, but I can also take it.’

‘That’s what he -,’ Robin starts again, but Julian cuts across him.

‘Save some material for another day, yeah?’

Mike places the planchette in the middle of the board.

‘Is he ready?’ he asks.

Alison opens her mouth to reply, but Julian interrupts.

‘Hang on, hang on, I’ve got this.’

Mike shoots Alison a confused look when she doesn’t answer, so she nods towards the board. Julian rolls his sleeves up, grips his right wrist with his left hand, and lines his index finger up against the small, wooden block. With a great heave that strains the veins in his forehead, he starts to push.

As the wooden tile begins to slide slowly across the board, the others all cheer Julian on. Alison flinches back at the noise of them, but Mike doesn’t notice as he stares transfixed at the planchette’s slow progress across the board.

It takes about fifteen seconds, but Julian manages to push the wooden piece to sit on the word ‘YES’ in the top corner of the board. He sits back, flexing his fingers but looking pretty pleased with himself.

‘Wow,’ says Pat.

Julian blows on the end of his finger like it’s a smoking gun.

‘Ok, now I’m gonna ask him -,’

‘Nuh nuh nuh,’ Julian says. ‘Make him move the thingie back to the middle of the board, I can’t be dragging it around the thing myself all the time.’

‘He wants you to move the slide-y wooden thingie back into the middle,’ Alison tells Mike.

‘It’s called the planchette,’ Fanny sniffs.

‘It’s called the planchette,’ Alison repeats as Mike moves it back to the centre. ‘Apparently.’

‘Cool,’ says Mike. ‘Right, now, Julian – why did you mess with my work emails?’

The heaving and cheering starts up again as Julian gets to work sliding the planchette across the alphabet.

‘F,’ Mike says, watching the board closely, ‘U… N… Fun. For fun!’

Julian shrugs.

‘Ask a stupid question,’ he says. He bends his finger and grips his wrist. ‘I’m going to need a steam after this.’

‘No, absolutely not,’ Alison tells him. ‘The damp in the bathroom is bad enough already.’

‘Then I don’t see why I’m wasting my time doing this.’

Julian moves as if to get up, but the others protest.

‘You can’t just leave, mate!’ Pat says.

‘You have to do it for the good of the unit,’ says the Captain. ‘And young Michael, of course. What if there’s another burglary? We can’t have a repeat of last time.’

‘If I recall, that all worked out just fine in the end.’

His response is met by scowls from the rest of the group.

‘Ok, fine, fine! Alison, tell your husband that I’m not going to stick around here and be interrogated like I’m on Question Time, I had enough of that in 1989. But if you leave the board out, I can use it if we need it – if this meets with the approval of the jury.’

There are general murmurs of consent from around the room.

‘Speaking of the electronic e-mails,’ Thomas says, pondering. ‘Could Julian not just write to Mike on the computer that folds?’

‘That’s true,’ says Alison. ‘We could just leave Mike’s old one plugged in and up and running. Did you not think of that, Mike? Of Julian just typing to you on the laptop?’

Mike flicks the planchette and it spins around.

‘Yeah, I thought of that first,’ he says. ‘But this is more ghost-y, innit?’

*~*

3. Julian and the laptop

Mike watches as the keys of the laptop sink down seemingly of their own accord. On screen, letters blink into life on the open Word document. A ‘h’ appears, followed about five seconds later by an ‘e’. The ‘l’ takes so long to appear that Mike thinks Julian may have given up already, but it gets there just as he’s about to ask Alison if the ghosts have all left.

Despite being the same letter, the next ‘l’ takes just as long.

‘I’m going to make a cup of tea,’ he says, getting to his feet.

*~*

4. Fanny and the video camera

‘It doesn’t seem very gracious for a lady to be the centre of attention like this,’ Fanny states, clearly enjoying being the centre of attention, chest puffed out like a preening bird.

Mike has set his video camera up facing the armchair, in which Fanny is now sat. It looks like she’s doing a Big Brother diary room confession. Living in this house it quite like Big Brother, Alison muses, only no one ever gets voted off. Just one, endless episode of Big Brother.

‘We already know you appear on camera, Fanny, this is just the next logical step,’ Alison says as Mike fiddles with the camera.

‘I shall do my best,’ she says. She primps the back of her hair and looks down the barrel of the camera. ‘How do I look?’

Alison peers into the preview screen. She can see Fanny in it, clear as day, but isn’t sure whether Mike can see her.

‘Can you see her, Mike?’

Mike squints at the screen.

‘There’s something hazy and grey-ish on the chair, definitely. Maybe she shows up better when she’s actually been caught on camera.’

‘It’s a fair theory, Michael,’ the Captain says from behind him, looking between the screen and Fanny. ‘Let’s give it a test. Quiet on set please.’

‘You do be carefuls the camera not take your souls now, Fanny,’ says Mary. ‘We does not know how your image is captured.’

‘I explained it to you before, Mary,’ says Pat. ‘Nobody’s soul is being taken.’

‘We cans never be sure.’

The Captain looks over his shoulder at them.

‘I believe I asked for quiet on set, thank you. It’s go for, Michael – three, two, one, action.’

The Captain manages to time his countdown perfectly with Mike hitting the record button.

‘You’re live, Fanny,’ Alison tells her.

Fanny runs her hands down the creases in her skirts, her eyes flitting between Alison and the camera.

‘Well, what should I say? You haven’t given me a script, Alison,’ she says.

‘I could give you a few suggestions,’ says Julian, from his slouched position on the sofa where he’s been massaging his fingers. ‘A lot of my favourites start with a few comments about coming to fix the plumbing, laying some pipe, that sort of thing.’

Alison is confident that, even though Fanny doesn’t understand the specifics of what Julian is saying, she knows enough about both Julian and video technology to pout in a wholly disapproving fashion.

‘I shall be saying nothing of the sort, please and thank you,’ she says.

‘These powers are wasted on Fanny,’ Thomas complains. ‘Oh, if only I could be on camera, reciting my works for all to see! If I could make a video it would be a virus -,’

‘Viral, Thomas, popular videos go viral,’ Alison tells him.

‘His poetry like virus,’ Robin says under his breath.

‘Your bone box is full of fudge, Robin,’ Thomas says, undeterred. ‘What would you know of poetry?’

Robin opens his mouth to reply, but Fanny cuts across him.

‘Excuse me,’ she says, ‘but this is my moment on camera, even if I still don’t have a script.’

‘Tell us something about the house,’ Kitty suggests. ‘You know an awful lot about it.’

‘Uh, yeah, Mike would love to hear that,’ Alison says, casting a sideways glance at her husband.

‘What’s it?’ Mike asks. ‘What’s she talking about?’

‘You’ll see, won’t you?’ Alison replies. ‘Maybe.’

Fanny has already jumped on Kitty’s suggestion and has launched into the history of the house. It’s a speech Alison has heard many times now and, although she’s proud and humbled to be a part of that history, she does wish Fanny would find some new ways to tell the story.

Clearly, the others feel similarly, as they rapidly lose interest. Even as Robin and Julian pick up on a game of chess they’d started earlier and Thomas lopes off to compose his next epic in the window, Fanny drones on. Kitty continues to smile encouragingly at the older woman, nodding as she talks.

‘Is she done?’ Mike asks after another minute, finger hovering over the record button.

Alison knows very well that Fanny can continue on her current trajectory for a good ten minutes, but she gives him the nod anyway.

‘That’s cut there, Fanny,’ the Captain says, emphasising his point with his swagger stick.

‘But I was just getting to the bit about the -,’

‘The expansion of the library, I know,’ Alison says. ‘Let’s just check and see if it’s worked though, yeah? So we don’t waste your time.’

Mike lifts the camera off the tripod and opens up the file of footage he just captured. He selects it and hits play. Alison can see and hear all of the commotion that she’d just witnessed from the collective ghosts, but she isn’t sure what Mike is getting, if anything. His thumb runs over the volume button and pushes it all the way up.

‘Anything?’ Alison asks.

‘The greyish blob -,’ he starts.

‘That’s Lady Button to you, young man,’ Fanny intercedes.

‘- sort of has a face sometimes, like those photos. I can’t hear anything though.’

He sighs and turns the camera off.

‘No good, I guess. Looks like we’ve got to stick with the slow typing.’

‘Drat and blast!’ the Captain says.

‘That’s something though, yeah?’ Alison says, reaching out and rubbing Mike’s arm.

‘It’s kind of cool,’ he says.

‘Have you got any other ideas on your list?’

‘Yes, no need to be despondent, Michael. You’ve come well prepared with your document and - ,’the Captain’s spiel is cut off as Mike turns around to grab his piece of paper from the coffee table and unknowingly reaches through the military man to get it. The Captain doubles over, Mike’s arm still passing through him. ‘Bally hell, that’s made me taste my breakfast, and I haven’t had anything to eat since 1948.’

Mike drops the paper, his head whipping up, eyes wide.

‘What is it?’ Alison asks.

‘I just heard some posh guy saying something about breakfast,’ he says.

Alison claps her hands to her mouth.

‘That was the Captain,’ she says through her fingers. ‘You just put your arm through him.’

‘Terrible thing it is to do to a man too,’ the Captain adds.

‘He just spoke again, can you still hear him?’ Alison asks.

‘Nope, nothing.’

‘I guess you have to be… in him?’ Alison says slowly, still thinking it through.

The Captain’s eyes go wider than Mike’s.

‘Now, see here -,’ he starts.

‘Maybe it’ll work for the rest of us!’ Pat says, excited.

‘Oh, do me, do me!’ Kitty says, her hands clasped together.

‘Looks like we’ve got one more item for the list,’ Alison says.

*~*

5. AOB

It doesn’t take long to establish that this new power works only for the Captain. The others dutifully line up and allow Alison to guide Mike’s hand towards them, where he sometimes does a better job of gently prodding the invisible person than he does with others. He’s able to gently reach out towards Kitty and Fanny’s outstretched hands, but poor Pat gets a fist through the face that causes him to sneeze repeatedly.

Even though they all groan through the pain and attempt to greet Mike, none of them can be heard.

‘Looks like it’s just you, Cap,’ Pat says, glasses still askew from all the sneezing.

‘Has this happened before?’ Alison asks the Captain.

‘An officer need only make physical contact with another person when medical assistance is required,’ the Captain replies.

‘You’ve got a few physical requirements missing from your list there, mate,’ Julian adds.

‘I did specify an officer, Julian,’ the Captain says, unperturbed. ‘Not something you would know much about.’

Deaf to this conversation, Mike turns to Alison.

‘Is that everyone then? Just the Captain left to try again?’ he asks.

‘Yep, looks like he’s the only one. Ready to try again, Captain?’

The Captain steps forward and shakes himself off as if he’s about to enter into a wrestling match. His neck crunches as he rolls his shoulders up and round.

‘Once more unto the breech,’ he says.

Alison grabs Mike’s arm and guides his hand towards the Captain, who stands resolute and accepting of his fate. Alison tries to align them so Mike’s hand lands on the Captain’s shoulder, but as she lets go, his arm drops and, due to the height difference, Mike’s hand once again passes through the Captain’s torso.

‘I say, man,’ the Captain says through gritted teeth. ‘You’ve rather got a grip on my spinal cord.’

Mike yelps and jumps back, falling into the sofa.

‘He said I was touching his spine!’ he says.

‘Uh, yeah, you did kind of miss a bit,’ Alison says. ‘Sorry, Cap.’

The Captain, still coughing, waves her off.

‘This is brilliant,’ says Pat. ‘Cap can talk directly to Mike!’

‘It is rather uncomfortable,’ the Captain says, straightening himself back up and adjusting his Sam Browne. ‘I don’t think I can hold much of a conversation with another man inside me.’

‘Probably not,’ says Alison. ‘Although, I do wonder… What if you use that stick thing you carry, Captain?’

‘This?’ the Captain queries, brandishing the leather stick in question.

‘Yes, that.’

‘This is called a swagger stick, young lady, and I’ll have you know it’s an essential bit of kit for any CO.’

Alison refrains from making a comment on how it must be essential, given the Captain apparently died carrying it. Instead, she gestures for the military officer to come towards them.

‘Sit still, Mike,’ she says, one hand on Mike’s shoulder. ‘Now, Captain, see what happens if you just gently touch Mike’s shoulder with the stick.’

‘Swagger stick.’

‘With the swagger stick.’

Taking his time, the Captain reaches out with the swagger stick until it comes to brush against Mike’s shoulder. In typical ghost fashion, it blends through the living man. The Captain winces, but his reaction is not otherwise as visceral as it would be if he himself were touching Mike.

‘The Captain to Michael,’ he says. ‘This is the Captain to Michael, over.’

‘I can hear him!’ Mike says, smiling. ‘Why’s he talking like he’s on a walkie-talkie?’

Alison shrugs.

‘That’s just the way he is.’

‘This is just about tolerable,’ the Captain says, swagger stick still extended towards Mike. ‘Excellent work, Alison.’

Mike grins at Alison.

‘He thinks you’re excellent,’ he says.

‘I heard,’ Alison says, smiling back at her husband.

‘So, Captain,’ Mike says, shifting in his seat towards where he’d heard the voice coming from. ‘Got any cool war stories?’

Groans echo around the room.