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heavens!’ said Frieda rudely. ‘Is tha t the child?’
    ‘Yes, this is Oliver,’ said Matron quietly, giving his hand a squeeze.
    ‘I do not see even a trace of the Snodde-Brittles in this boy,’ said Fulton, frowning.
    This was true. The Snodde-Brittles were tall and long-faced with bulging eyes and mouthfuls of enormous teeth.
    ‘His mother was French,’ said Matron. ‘We think that Oliver takes after her.’
    ‘Ha!’ Fulton was disgusted. Foreign blood! Then remembering that he was posing as Oliver’s friend, he leaned towards him and said: ‘Well now, boy, you will have heard of your good fortune?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Oliver’s voice was almost a whisper. His troubled eyes were turned to Matron.
    ‘You don’t seem to realize how lucky you are. Children all over the world would give anything to be in your shoes.’
    Oliver raised his head, suddenly looking cheerful. ‘If there are children all over the world who want to live there, can’t I give it to them – Helton Hall, I mean – and stay here?’
    ‘Stay here?’ said Fulton.
    ‘Stay here ?’ said Frieda.
    The Snodde-Brittles were flabbergasted. They couldn’t believe their ears.
    ‘Oliver, you must try out your new life,’ said Matron. ‘We’ll write you lots and lots of letters, and as soon as you’re settled, some of the children will be able to come and stay.’
    The Snodde-Brittles looked at each other. Long before common and scruffy children were allowed to come and stay at Helton, Oliver should be safely out of the way.
    ‘We have to catch the three-twenty from King’s Cross,’ said Frieda.
    Matron nodded. ‘Go and get your things, dear,’ she said to Oliver. ‘And tell the others that they can come and see you off.’
    When the boy had gone she turned to the Snodde-Brittles. ‘You will find Oliver a willing and intelligent child,’ she said, ‘but he’s delicate. When he’s upset or if he gets some kind of shock, he has asthma attacks and finds trouble in breathing. I’ve put in his inhaler and exact instructions about what to do, and of course you’ll have a doctor up there. But the main thing is to keep him on an even keel, and happy. Then he’s fine.’
    The Snodde-Brittles exchanged glances.
    ‘Really?’ said Fulton, licking his lips. ‘You mean it could be dangerous for him to have a shock? Really dangerous?’
    ‘It could be,’ said Matron. ‘But if you’re careful everything will be fine. We’ve never had any trouble here.’
    In the taxi on the way to the station Fulton was silent, thinking hard. A shock could be dangerous, could it? But what sort of a shock?
    Frieda sat with a grim face, thinking of the ridiculous fuss there had been when Oliver left. Children swarming all over him, stuffing things into his pockets; a three-legged mongrel who should have been shot, jumping up and down – and all of them running after the taxi and waving like lunatics.
    Between Fulton and Frieda sat Oliver, holding his presents carefully on his lap. A torch from Trevor, a box of crayons from Nonie... they must have saved up all their pocket money. There was a huge ‘good luck’ card too, signed by everyone in the home. Even Sparky had added her pawmark in splodgy ink.
    The taxi was crawling, caught in a jam. Now it stopped for traffic lights ahead. Looking out of the window, Fulton saw a number of signs on a tall grey house.
    Adopt A Ghost , said one... and Dial A Ghost , said another.
    Dial a ghost? Now where had he seen those words before? Of course, on the leaflet he’d picked off the mat at Helton when he went ahead to give orders to the servants. ‘Every kind of ghost,’ the leaflet had offered...
    Fulton bared his yellow teeth in the nearest he ever came to a smile, and his eyes glittered.
    He knew now what he was going to do.

Chapter Five
     
    No sooner had Oliver’s taxi disappeared down a side street than two nuns, looking like kind and intelligent penguins in their black and white habits, made their way up