Squishy Taylor and the Vase That Wasn't Read Online Free PDF Page A

sneaking out.
    I’m thinking about following her when she comes back in. Dad, stumbling and sleepy, is with her. He stands by our bed, saying, ‘It’s four in the morning, sweetie. There are no ghosts. Just go back to sleep.’
    He’s using his special Dad-voice. My Dad-voice. It makes me remember all the things I was mad about when I fell asleep.
    After he leaves, I can’t hold it in anymore.
    ‘He’s not your dad, you know,’ I say.
    ‘ Wha-at? ’ Vee asks.
    ‘You think you can have my dad? Well, you can’t, he’s mine.’
    Jessie rolls over in the bunk underneath mine. ‘What are you guys talking about?’ she says sleepily.
    Vee says, ‘I just had a bad dream.’
    She sounds like a whingey little kid. Which is annoying.
    ‘All I’m saying is, he’s my dad, not yours,’ I say.
    ‘Squishy!’ Jessie says. ‘Don’t be so selfish. She’s just freaked out –’
    ‘Me? Selfish? You’re the selfish one! You stole all my Mum-time tonight and didn’t even think about what you were doing.’
    ‘ Whoa! Squishy, it’s the middle of the night and you’re being a weirdo,’ Jessie says.
    I don’t say anything.
    Then I say, ‘I’m not talking to you guys.’ Just in case they don’t understand the silence.
    I realise Vee is crying. Sometimes I’m so much more mature than she is.
    ‘Vee?’ Jessie says. ‘What’s up?’
    Vee takes a sobby little breath. ‘It’s the ghost. I can’t sleep because of it.’
    ‘There is no ghost,’ Jessie says.
    ‘But we saw it,’ Vee insists.
    ‘We saw a video ,’ Jessie says. ‘It could have been anything.’
    Vee keeps crying. Even though it’s annoying, I can’t help feeling a bit sorry for her. I’m so angry and twitchy , my bones are itching to do something .
    ‘Maybe we should try to scare off the ghost,’ I say, because there’s something scary-exciting about the idea.
    Jessie is silent.
    ‘Jessie?’ Vee asks.
    ‘OK, fine,’ Jessie says. ‘There’s no ghost. But we can do it if you really want.’
    ‘Can we do it now?’ Vee asks. ‘I can’t sleep.’
    ‘All right,’ Jessie says. ‘Where?’
    I know exactly where.
    ‘We have to make sure we clear out the whole building ,’ I say. ‘That means we have to go up on the roof.’

We tiptoe around the dark kitchen with the torch, looking for good things to take. Jessie finds a bobby pin and Vee gets our oldest recipe book, the brown one with gold writing on the front.
    ‘This one’s just like the big book in the movie,’ she whispers.
    I pull open the spice drawer, because there was turmeric and holy basil at my grandmother’s funeral. I know funerals are different from ceremonies to scare away ghosts, but they’re both for saying goodbye to dead people. I want to take candles and the lighter, even though we’re not usually allowed, but Jessie makes me put them back. She’s so bossy.
    Jessie slides everything into a green bag, and then spots the iPad. She grabs it too and I take the key off the hook by the door.
    We tiptoe out into the dimly lit corridor, and down to the bright stairwell. We run up to the ladder.
    I climb the gate easily and Vee follows. Jessie reaches up to pass the bag to me. She starts climbing, but stops with one leg over the top.
    ‘I’m stuck,’ she says. She’s clutching on, and doesn’t want to lift her second leg over the top.
    ‘Come on,’ Vee says. ‘Just hold tight and lift your foot over.’
    Jessie’s knuckles are white. She’s almost lying along the top of the gate and the foot near me keeps trying to find a new spot. She looks like she doesn’t trust herself to put it down.
    I remember how scared I was looking down from our balcony, how shaky and slippery my hands felt.
    ‘You’re OK,’ I say. I step up under her. ‘Tread on me.’
    I guide her foot and hold it steady on my shoulder.
    ‘Uh,’ she says. ‘Is that OK?’
    She’s kind of heavy, and her foot is mashing my ear.
    ‘It’s fine,’ I say. ‘Just a bit