Philomena put down the manuscript that had been carefully composed in Reggie Upton’s best copperplate.

“That’s impressive, Reggie,” she said. “It is a really good opening chapter to your book. And that you managed to get Durosimi O’Stoat to help was no mean feat.”

“The man could not have been more helpful,” Reggie confessed. “Though doubtless he’ll be after something or other in return before too long.”

“Just be careful what you agree to,” Philomena advised.

“Anyway, my next port of call is to Miss Calder,” said Reggie. “A more joyful prospect altogether, and, in my humble opinion, the island’s most delightful ghost.”

“Good plan!” said Philomena. “Miss Calder will be a mine of information – though she might not be too forthcoming about her own history.”

“I will employ the famous Hawkesbury-Upton charm,” declared Reggie, smoothing his moustache. “I find that the ladies just can’t resist it.”

Philomena wisely failed to comment.

“I can tell you very little about my death,” said Miss Calder. “The actual moment where one ceases to be the quick and joins the ranks of the dead is brief, not to say confusing.”

Reggie nodded sympathetically. He had seen enough of death on the battlefield to accept the reality of her words. 

“And as for my life – which was disappointingly brief, I must admit – there is not a lot to say.

My mother was a member of the Penobscot tribe, local to the mainland. I know nothing about my father, other than he was a man called Calder. I like to think that maybe I am descended from the Thanes of Cawdor.” 

“Well, in that case don’t believe all the rubbish Shakespeare wrote about Macbeth,” said Reggie “Apparently he was a thoroughly decent chap… at least, for the times.”

Reggie and Tenzin were sitting with Miss Calder in her gloomy office, at the rear of the Pallid Rock Orphanage. In the subdued light, they would have been hard pressed to have known that they were addressing a ghost.

“I am sorry Brigadier…” she began.

“Reggie, please…”

“Reggie? Oh what a dashing name. I’m sorry Reggie, but if you choose to include me in your compilation of the island’s ghosts, it will be a slender chapter indeed.” 

“My dear lady,” declared Reggie. “Without your charm, poise and good graces, this island would be but a shadow of what it is.”

Miss Calder blushed, which caused her face to become momentarily skeletal. Tenzin gave a small whimper, and even Reggie gripped the arms of his chair with the urgency of one finding himself suddenly deposited on a white-knuckle ride. 

“I do apologise, gentlemen,” she said, hurriedly “I sometimes fight to control my emotions.”

“Oh, nonsense,” lied Reggie, kicking Tenzin under the table. “It is a mere tic, a fascinating part of your indisputable charm.”

“You are very kind,” said Miss Calder. “I wish I could tell you I have some exciting backstory, but I came here voluntarily, purely out of curiosity, wondering why anywhere should be called Hopeless. I was no more than seventeen, little more than a child. It was relatively easy to get on to the island… but less easy to leave, as I soon discovered.”

“And you recall nothing of your demise?” asked Reggie, with as much gentleness as he could muster. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I only remember that I was helping Durosimi’s daughter.”

“Durosimi has a daughter?” Reggie could not keep the surprise out of his voice.

“Oh yes,” said Miss Calder. “Salamandra. But I haven’t seen her in a long time. She comes and goes as the mood takes her.”

“I can’t say I blame her,” said Reggie. “Having Durosimi as a father, that is.”

“He can be… challenging, at times,” Miss Calder replied. “If that’s all, gentlemen…?”

Reggie rose to his feet.

“Thank you so much, Miss Calder,” he said. “Philomena seemed to think that you might have knowledge of some of the less accessible spirits haunting the island.”

“By all means, Reggie, I would be happy to help – and be sure to bring your young assistant,” she said, giving Tenzin a smile that almost teetered into a skeletal rictus.

Tenzin hoped that the Stygian gloom of the room would hide his blushes.

“That was a successful interview,” said Reggie later that night, sitting in the snug of The Squid and Teapot. “And young Tenzin here made something of an impression with Miss Calder.”

“Is there love in the air?” teased Philomena.

“She’s dead and I’m still a monk,” pointed out Tenzin, a blush coming to his cheeks again. “It’s hardly an ideal arrangement for a romance.”

“That won’t stop her,” said Rhys. “Our Miss Calder is something of a dark horse. When I was the Night-Soil Man I couldn’t move for her. She was always finding an excuse to cross my path.” 

The chair in the corner creaked ominously.

“There’s no accounting for taste,” it said. 

“Any more of that and you will be on the Tomte’s next bonfire,” said Philomena. Then she turned to Rhys and gave him a mock scowl.

“But we’d all be interested to know more about what you and Miss Calder got up to.”