I laid in bed that night, much earlier than usual. The ball was turning into a nightmare. First being dumped by Ed, then being dumped a second time by a second date, Aunt Eliza's pitiful attempt to set me up with Decky the creep, and then the bizarre scene in the courtyard involving date number two, who's name was still a complete mystery to me.

Bedside lamp flickering on the chest of drawers near me, I reached across and opened a book on Henry. I wanted to speak to him more than anything and not knowing where he was or when I could see him, felt like an arrow embedded deep into my chest. I hated it. I hated the way he made me feel. Here one minute, gone the next. It was so unfair, so disrespectful, but who was I to judge that? I was the girl who spoke to ghosts long dead and the girl who's Aunt warned her against having anything to do with him. I was that girl and I hated it. But no matter how much I loathed the situation I found myself in, Henry was someone I felt I needed in my life.

Ok, he was dead and had been like that for several hundreds of years. A victim of murder, his life cut short by a man who's surname was the same as mine. Darcy made me hate my own surname and pity poor Henry more. But it was the fact no one knew where his remains lay, that really turned my stomach. I started to wonder what would happen if I found his last place of rest. The thought of having somewhere to lay flowers and a grave I could tend to, was something I felt he needed. I needed to know where he was buried. Perhaps that's where he'd gone to? Gone to find where that sod Darcy discarded his corpse.

I needed answers, but the only person who could give those to me was also long dead. Not that I would let that stand in my way. Eliza knew more about ghosts and Henry than anyone else. I thought, rather stupidly that she should be able to help.

Unable to sleep, I quietly climbed out of bed and began to creep down the stairs. My heart filled with sorrow as I passed the portrait of Clementine. All I could think of was her and Henry and the life they should have had. To join our family with love instead of tear them apart with blood and violence.

For a second I stopped and stared at her. The small tear in her blue eyes, a signal of sorrow and the life she would live with Lord Lard-Arse, Horatio Thatcher. I began to think she must have been desperate to go through with the wedding. Although Thatcher was on paper, the man was certainly no oil painting. I thought to that night. The night over three hundred years where my relative slaughtered another human being in cold blood.

"Surely he must have left a trail or something..." I thought, "anything."

Henry deserved better than to be left to rot and forgotten about. He had a life after all. He was a life, a human being. He had a family, brothers, sisters, parents. He probably had a granny for all I knew. A poor little old lady left to live the rest of her days without knowing what happened to her dear grandson. I couldn't stand it. The feeling of wanting to put right my relatives wrongs, wasn't one to fade away into the back of my mind, nor to vanish without a fight. I knew what I had to do and as soon as I was able to, I was going to ask Eliza.

I crept further down the stairs on my way to the library. I could hear the drunken idiots rambling a load of rubbish and they fell into taxis parked outside. I waited until the last fool left before I nipped down the rest of the stairs and down the hallway towards the library. But as I crept, carefully, silently and in complete darkness, I noticed something odd. A light flickered from inside Aunts office.

Thinking she'd gone to bed to sleep off her drunkenness, I placed my hand onto the diamond doorknob. But as I went to turn off the light, I began to hear noises coming from inside. Giggling sounds, like a little girl followed by a hushed, but deeper voice. Like a man. A man giggling in the office. I stood outside and began to count down. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1! I kicked open the door and switched on the light.

The sight I saw, two people in a state of undress fumbled around on the desk. The pale shirtless hairy body of hot and sweaty Sir Anthony Altonfield leapt off my half naked aunt. Eliza ripped the shirt from the ground and wrapped it around her body to cover up her modesty. Her face as red as a beetroot and wiry grey hair falling down her back like a charred bird nest, all falling apart. Sharply, I turned and left them to do whatever it was they were doing. I'd seen enough near nudity that night to last me a life time.

My pace quickened as I headed toward the library, but all I could here was Aunt Eliza's voice calling my name, echoed through the hallway. I couldn't face her, but I still needed to talk to her. Stopped and turned to face her. She'd managed to put on the oversized mans shirt which looked like a tent covering my aunts small frame. At least it was only her bare knees I could see instead of her...

"Clemmy," she said, still hot and bothered, "I know it's late, darling, but can we talk?"

From the door I could see Sir Sweaty-Pants sneaking out of the office, wearing his lime green suit, but not his barbie pink shirt. He quietly cleared his throat before stepping close to Eliza.
"Clementine, I don't suppose you've seen Decky on your travels?"

My arms folded and I gave him the worse evil teenage girl stare I could, the same one I used on both Seb and Will.

"No, but I've seen...!" I snarled under my breath.

"What did you say?" The man began to shout.

Aunt turned and began to push him towards the door. "Nothing." And she closed the door quickly behind him, leaving the ridiculous man standing outside without his shirt.

With him taken care of, Eliza's attention turned to me and her jaw began to tense. Her blue eyes widened and she glared at me as if I'd done something wrong.
"What?" I asked.

"WHAT? What? For goodness sake Clem, I can't believe you stand there and have the cheek to ask what! You were rude to a guest, that's what! Not only were you rude to a guest, but you were rude to a member of parliament and his son. Poor Decky..."

After what I had just seen surely no one could blame me for sniggering at the name 'Decky.'

"It's not funny Clem! I have a good mind to phone your parents and ask them to collect you for that!"

I could feel the anger growing inside and lashed out at the silly old bat. "For what?" I yelled, my arms flying in all directions, "What is this terrible thing I've supposedly done to you? Did I bring back a completely random guy to the house you were staying in, get so blind drunk that I couldn't even walk two paces in a straight line? Or did I have sex with him in the room right under your bedroom? I have ears, aunt Eliza! I have ears!"

"Your behaviour today towards Sir Anthony was really disgraceful, not like you at all. What's wrong, Clem? What's happened to make you act like that?"

I needed to talk to her about Henry. I wanted to know why I hadn't seen him. She knew ghosts much better than I did and I knew she would have the answer.
"Where's Henry?"

I watched as Aunts eyes widened and she looked at me as if she didn't have a clue why I was asking such an unusual question.
"He comes and goes. He always has and always will. They're unpredictable things, ghosts. A bit like men."

She turned to head back upstairs, but I was not going to leave it like that.
"You're fobbing me off! He's been here everyday since I've been here, but suddenly he's gone. I don't believe he comes and goes. He's more of a permanent fixture than your latest toy-boy!"

Aunt opened the door to the dining room and beckoned me into the room where we had our evening meal. She pulled out a chair and she sat down, but still upset, I decided to stand.
"Where is he?"

"Clementine, sit down."

The feeling of knowing I was going to be told bad news felt like a thick blanket over me. I struggled to breathe, but still refused to sit.
"Clem, if he's gone, then maybe..." she paused and took a deep breath before continuing, "maybe he's passed over? Gone away to the afterlife?"

"No!" I felt my heart as it begun to break, a pain so deep I felt like screaming, "tell me it's not true? Please, he can't have gone?"

"Ghosts have unfinished business. If he's finished what he needed to do than, than perhaps it's his time."

Although I knew she was probably right, part of me refused to accept what was staring me in the face. Henry had left me without saying goodbye. How could he? I thought he was better than that? Maybe I was wrong? I thought we were friends? Maybe I was wrong? I though I was beginning to like it at Aunts, I knew I was wrong.

I turned to leave, but Aunt called me back. I continued to storm out the room and upstairs towards my bedroom. That was it. I'd had enough. If it was Henry's turn to go, than it was mine as well. I hated the thought of staying there a moment longer, knowing I might never see him again. I pulled open my wardrobe doors and dragged the empty suitcase out onto the floor. Grabbing the clothes from the hangers, I shoved them inside without even folding them. But as I looked for the second smaller suitcase, I noticed the box from the time Henry tried to teach me how to use my ghost powers.

Grandads umbrella lived behind the wardrobe. I don't know how long it had been there for, but by the layers of dust and the fact it contained several old holes, I assumed it wasn't brand new. Brolly in hand, I pointed it towards the top of the wardrobe and behind the box. Slowly and carefully I began to move it until the box was finally in my grasp. I reached my hands forward and pulled the box down.

Box under my arm, I crossed the floor and sat on my bed. I lifted the lid off the old wooden shoe box and instead of finding a pair of Clementine number 1's shoes from 1600's, I found one single item. A small velvet box in the most brilliant shade of blue I had ever seen. Carefully I began to open it and inside I could see, laying in the pale blue silk interior, a small silver locket on a delicate silver chain. The locket case had seen better days, several slight scratches covered the metal and what would have been sparking silver when new, now dull. As opened it up, I expected to see maybe a photograph of Clementine and Henry, but they were alive in the 1600's and photography was not invented until the reign of Queen Victoria in the 1900's. But instead of a photograph, I discovered a small clock. The hands of the tiny timepiece shaped like little daggers.

Carefully I lifted it up and draped the long chain around my neck, but as I did I began to feel like a powerful force had taken over me and I was no longer myself anymore...