The Lost Child of LychfordBook - 2016
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To Judith’s surprise, the ghost now appeared, looking at her from around the edge of a pew. That lost, demanding face. Judith looked sternly back. Yes, she could see how that would get to the soft girl. “You go on home, then,” she said. It had come out more gently than she’d intended. “If you know where that is. I give you permission to do so and I give you strength.” She winced as the little pulse of life left her. She hadn’t meant to give up so much of that either. She’d regret that moment on her deathbed.
“A ghost isn’t often a person. It most probably don’t have feelings you can hurt or soothe. It’s just a . . . whatchamacallit, a symbol. Like the green man on the traffic light.”
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