Opening the package, Meltish expected Bob’s pictures to be mildly more diverting than the jaw-breaking tedium of colleagues’ holiday snaps. Should he make his excuses and leave fairly soon? His disillusion with all things pertaining to the spectral hadn’t significantly altered. Bob’s experiences, intriguing as they were and whatever the truth of them, were a world away from clanking chains and Roman soldiers walking through walls. But Bob being haunted didn’t mean the house was. And there had been no hint from Mr. and Mrs. Biddulph of any further sightings of Bob’s co-participant in hide and seek.
            Meltish had extracted a batch of photographs out of the package that had turned out to be a folded-over, grubby supermarket shopping bag. Jennifer had her chin on the armrest of his chair, watching for his reaction. In the background, Phyllis, Ian and Claire were discussing the triumphs and disasters of various teenaged children. Jennifer informed Meltish how Bob used a piece of computer software to combine and manipulate photographic images. He hardly heard her.

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