CHAPTER TEN
a snapshot in time

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

"NOW, YOUR BUSINESS plan indicated eighteen guests rooms, didn't it?" Fiona asks her clients, completely unaware of the two ghosts spying on her every move — Effie and the Captain loom closely behind, but out of Alison's sight so she will not catch on to their plan.

     "Oh, yeah," Mike mumbles, "the business plan, yeah."

"Ah, well, I'm immediately realising we can't accommodate that many rooms. I'm such a silly duck!" At this, Fiona cackles through a painfully fake laugh, making Effie's toes curl in her heels. "A lot of space needed for facilities, spa, swimming pool, etcetera. So I think my evaluation might have been a teensy bit premature. My fault."

"Right..." Alison sighs.

"We'll see what it comes to once we get a clear picture from these chaps, shall we? Great."

"Sorry, does that mean—"

Brrrring! Fiona's mobile phone rings, and she has no hesitation in answering it. "Ciao. Oh, hello, Gerald! Yes..." She clip-clops away in her stilettos, leaving the Coopers dishevelled and confused in her wake. The two ghost spies, however, have simply gathered more evidence to support their brewing plan. They back away into the next room, the cogs turning in their minds.

"Yes," the Captain hums, "she's a wily one..."

"So, what's the plan?" Effie asks. "We need to do something before Miss Gooseberry-Head over here wreaks more havoc."

"I'm still formulating a plan of action. Patience is key, Euphemia."

"Will you stop calling me Euphemia all the time?"

"If it bothers you that much—"

"Because that's not my name!"

The Captain straightens his back, caught off guard by her answer. He blinks vacantly at Effie, realising she is serious, and raises his eyebrows at her. "Wait... it isn't?" he asks, and she nods. "Then what is Effie short for?"

"Nothing. It's just Effie. I haven't a clue where you got Euphemia from."

"I suppose, when I was a lad... oh, never mind, why didn't you tell me so?"

"I have told you," Effie replies incredulously. "Several times... for the last ninety years."

"Oh, that's balderdash!" the Captain dismisses her claims with a wave of his swagger stick; once again, she knows there is little point trying to remind him of her name, so they focus back on the task at hand. She can see the Captain considering all of their options. "I tried recruiting reinforcements, but that lot in the basement had no intention of budging whatsoever. And as for the Yanks, well, you know..."

She shakes her head, knowing visiting the duo in the shed is the last thing he wishes to do. Suddenly he perks up.

"That's it," he whispers.

"What is?"

"Effie, I do believe I have formulated my plan," he says cunningly.

"Well, go on then, tell me." But instead of shedding light, the Captain simply strides away, a spring in his step as he marches forth. Effie can only scamper after him helplessly, calling after him: "Oi! Your plan isn't very useful if you don't tell me anything about it, is it?"

Abruptly, he stops in his tracks and pivots around to face her. "Think about it. Fiona has failed to check the basement when it comes to her surveying. That seems rather foolish to me, don't you think? Not very thorough for the so-called Harrington Hotels."

"Yes, I suppose you're right... but what could possibly be down there that would—" Another epiphany strikes, this time in Effie's head. "You don't think this house was built right on top of the plague victims, do you?"

"I think that's exactly what has happened. And I can certainly surmise that doing any building work on top of a plague pit would violate several codes."

"This is– this is brilliant! This could change everything," she laughs in relief. Yes, of course. By forcing Fiona into a corner she can't wriggle out of, all her plans will unravel, freeing Mike and Alison from their dodgy dealings, and thus keeping the Coopers here for the foreseeable future. It's a brilliant plan; she just never expected the Captain to be the advocate for them remaining at Button House. Smirking at her ally, she says, "I'm just glad you are finally seeing my side of things, Captain."

He scoffs. "Your side? Oh no, I'm simply being pragmatic."

"Sure you are..."

"Now, seeing as we are not on the friendliest of terms with everyone right now," the Captain mentions sheepishly, "we need someone else to do an inside job. Someone who we can trust to easily deliver the information, and someone who Alison wouldn't take for a fool. Someone like..."

The thought occurs to them both at the same time, and they stare at each other to reply in unison:

"Kitty."

{⋅. ✯ .⋅}

     EVERYTHING is slowly falling into place. They plan to find Kitty, to disguise their information as a way of her pleading Alison to stay — because what good hotel chain would dismiss surveying the basement, where there would be plenty of room for swimming baths, unless they wanted to pay her less. The surprise that lies beneath remains a secret only to the scheming phantom duo themselves... for now. Alison and Mike will have no option but to stay after that grand reveal.

     But as Effie wanders through Button House in the meantime, it briefly seems like the efforts to stay might take form sooner rather than later. The Coopers return home from house-hunting, the prospect of them being so desperate to leave making Effie's heart sink. God, she really will miss them if they go. What a peculiar feeling. All the more reason that their plan must work.

As the ghosts come scampering down to the entrance hall, their chatter overlapping excitedly, Effie tries to catch Kitty on her way down. "Kitty!" she says, trying to sound enthusiastic, "I have a special secret just for you—"

"Not now, Effie," Kitty cuts her off in a squeal, "we've found a way for Mike and Alison to stay at Button House!"

"... You have?"

"Yes, yes! Follow us."

Swept up in the cluster of ghosts, Alison is soon led upstairs without any knowledge of where she is headed — Effie's own cluelessness offers insight into how the living woman must feel every day amongst them. Fanny leads the group into the library, stopping their impromptu hike around Button House next to the window. In here, according to them, they have promised a great fortune for Alison.

     "Now, if I remember rightly," Fanny nods towards the location, "it is behind that chest and under the last board."

     Alison bends down slowly, taken aback by how far the ghosts have gone to keep her here. She almost looks touched. Taking in all their encouraging smiles, she returns the expression warmly. "What, you want me to move the floorboard?" she asks, after heaving the chest under the window out of the way.

     "Before you do, I would like to say something," Fanny proclaims.

     "... Okay?"

     "When you first came here, I thought you were a prostitute. I did. I can admit that now, and whilst I still find it utterly impossible to believe I'm related to such a—"

     Pat clears his throat, and she gets to the point. "The fact is, you are a Button. Of sorts. Half a Button. And this house, our beautiful house, should belong to a Button. Should be cared for by a Button," Fanny tells her sincerely. "Underneath that board is a box, and in that box is a jewel; an Arabic jewel given to my husband by Queen Empress Alexandra herself. I am quite sure it is priceless."

     Wow, Effie thinks. She had never expected the kind gesture to come from Fanny, of all the ghosts. Alison herself is fixed in a permanent, soft smile of disbelief. After removing the floorboard, there is a small box barely touched by the dust, which must be the one containing the priceless jewel.

"If that jewel can keep this house a home, a family home, then it is yours," Fanny insists.

Swallowing thickly, Alison's eyes shimmer as she glances up at the Edwardian ghost. "Thank you. That's... I don't know what to say."

"Well, it is yours now anyway, I can't physically stop you—"

"Oh, just open it," Effie interjects, "the suspense is killing me!"

Giving in to the temptation, everyone holds their breaths as Alison removes the box's lid — but instead of wonder, her face drops with disappointment. With a tentative sigh, she takes out the small slip of paper that lies in the box, where the jewel should have been, and reads its message out loud: "Sorry, darling. Pawned it."

Fanny's temper skyrockets out of nowhere at her late husband's antics: "YOU THIEVING GIT!" she shrieks, shaking her fist at the skies.

Noting all the other ghosts' disappointment, Alison crumples the note in her hands. "Look guys, no offence, but it wasn't just about the money. This isn't how normal people live."

"Blast how normal people live!" Effie's voice wavers a little bit, surprising herself. "We're a unique package, you can't get us anywhere else."

"Exactly, that's... kind of the appeal of selling the house."

"We can change!" Thomas insists.

"Please, just stay," Kitty begs, "I promise I won't come into your bedroom every morning."

"We'll be on our best behaviour!" Julian adds proudly.

Even Fanny joins in, "And I will try to stop judging your awful manners, terrible posture, and—"

"I shall cease my wooing, if you like," Thomas cuts in.

"I still make you jump!" Robin chortles gruffly, until he receives a death stare from Effie. Not the time.

"I shall peek no more on your husband at privy," Mary warbles apologetically, Alison looking slightly harrowed by that piece of information.

"And I'll..." Pat pauses, before realising, "actually, I don't do anything wrong, do I?"

Even Norman appears, jingling enthusiastically. Where did he come from? "I don't know what I should do or not do, but say the word and I'll do it... or not."

"Guys, please. This is sweet of you, but I'm sorry. This place felt like a dream, it really did, but now it's turned into a nightmare," Alison admits, deflecting all of their offers. She sighs out of slight guilt at the ghosts' eagerness to make her stay. Surely she can't leave, thinks Effie, not when she had that look on her face when they offered her the jewel. "And now we have a chance to get out. Can you honestly say you wouldn't leave if you could?"

At the question, the ghosts are left in contemplative silence. Effie has to admit she has a point. How many times has she wished for an exit out of this place? That was a while ago, though — Alison arrived and changed everything. She can really see it now. But before anyone can answer the rhetorical question, Alison leaves, and Kitty runs off sobbing to herself.

"Well, I suppose it was worth a try," Pat sighs in defeat. "Come on, everyone..."

The ghosts start to depart the library, until Effie pipes up. "Wait!" she cries out, making them stop dead in their tracks. "I... I have something I wish to say to you all. It's important."

"Go on, then," Fanny sniffs, "this had better be good."

"Can you at least give me a chance?" Effie snaps, before realising her temper and calming herself again. "... Look, I just wanted to apologise for what I said earlier. It was insensitive. But I still stand by it."

"Oh, for goodness' sake—"

"Because this has been torture for all of us, don't you see? Or, well, just me... I can only speak for myself. It was torturous being stuck in this aimless afterlife, with no clear end point or change in sight. But then Mike and Alison came along, and they brought some life back into this place! More importantly, they opened my eyes to how... how special all of you are." Effie waits, watching the reactions ripple throughout the other ghosts, shifting from indifference to endearment. "Until then, we were all running in circles, and it took us being shaken up to see things from a new perspective. I needed it, we all needed it. Wouldn't you agree?"

Hums of judgement and agreement spread throughout the ghosts, considering her words. Is forgiveness in the cards? It might seem that way. Some of their expressions reflect fond memories, as they think of their fellow ghosts and the things they take for granted with them.

     "Well..." Mary smiles shyly, "I s'pose with Alison gone, we'll all 'ave each other."

     It is so unexpectedly sweet, coming from Mary, that Effie cannot help but smile. "Yes. But the fight isn't over yet. We can still have a few tricks up our sleeve..." Nevertheless, the flapper girl isn't sure how deeply she believes her words. Persuasion and intervention can only go so far, when the Coopers seem to have clearly made their minds up — who's to say they wouldn't hesitate to leave, with or without Fiona in the picture?

{⋅. ✯ .⋅}

     SOONER than Effie expects, a wave of contractors breeze into Button House to dig up the basement, upon the orders of Alison after a certain ghost named Kitty — thanks to the Captain's persuasion — slipped out the secret of checking that area so they would not be duped into being paid less. The moment of truth awaits. But just like their plan, Effie remains unsuspecting, mingling with the other ghosts as they spy on the contractors.

     "Have they started already?" Thomas asks, horrified.

"Looks like it..." Pat sighs sadly.

"If it make it better," says Robin, "I've seen many house come and go here."

"No, that makes it worse," Fanny replies.

"Oh yeah."

Meanwhile, over by the doorway, the Captain can barely mask his smugness about his plan — their plan, actually — beginning to unfold. He couldn't act for toffee. At least Effie can slip under the radar of the others, appearing just as clueless as they do. This plan could possibly work better without their interference...

     The wait while the contractors dig is agonising. She wants to feel secure in her hopes that this plan will work, but Effie cannot help feel unsettled. The thought of Mike and Alison really packing up to leave keeps her on her toes.

Eventually, one of the contractors comes back upstairs into the kitchen, where Fiona is conversing with the coopers. "All done, love?" she asks them innocently, in a way that makes Effie's skin crawl.

"Not strictly speaking, no," he replies awkwardly. "There's something– um... perhaps you should come and take a look for yourselves."

And so it unfolds. Effie tries her hardest to look oblivious, following the other ghosts and the contractors down into the basement. The dim light swallows them all as Fiona squirms and squeals at the conditions. If only she knew what surrounded her — a room full of plague victims, keeping watch in their rotten phantom state. She knows nothing of their chorus of chatter, quite literally a village's worth, as everyone squeezes into the tight space by torchlight.

"Um... right, so, um..." the man in the hard hat struggles to find the words.

"Spit it out," Fiona snaps. "Then we can get back up into the light."

"We took up a couple of stone slabs and started digging, and we had to stop... because we found something."

"What did you find?"

"There's a grave."

Alison glances around at the basement ghosts, her heart dropping in realisation. "Oh God..." she whispers softly.

"Where?" Fiona asks worriedly.

"... We're standing on it."

The contractors guide their flashlights to the ground, illuminating the excavation in a horrific spotlight — remnants of skull and bone stick out from the dirt, all matching those bodies of the basement ghosts stood gawking at them. One villager even points out the resemblance of one skull with an underbite to their friend Nick, who can't see the likeness despite his protruding lower jaw. Fiona peels out into a fit of banshee shrieks, tripping over the grave site and falling atop the skeletons, like something out of a horror film.

     Once she's back up on her feet, Fiona is out like a lightning bolt. In the dim basement light, the Captain's smug smile is skewed with shadow, and Effie just shakes her head at him. But the plan worked, she thinks victoriously, it really worked. Mike and Alison desperately chase Fiona and the contractors out of the house, but their attempts to rein them back in are futile.

     "Fiona, please, this wasn't us!" Alison cries. "It's a plague pit."

     "We didn't kill anyone!" Mike insists, a little more blatantly.

     "Well," the contractor sighs, "we've had to alert the authorities—"

     "You can just dig up the bones, can't you?"

     "Yeah, this doesn't affect the sale."

     The contractor removes his hard hat, amidst all the bustle of everyone packing up to go. "They don't let just anyone exhume human remains," he explains. "If this is a plague pit, it's a site of historical interest. They'll be at it for ages."

     "I think we'll find a property that isn't a mass grave!" Fiona calls out decisively, one leg already into her car.

Despairing, the Coopers watch the vans and cars flee from Button House in droves, along with all the promise of some much-needed money — all that the other ghosts can feel is relief. Effie, for one, is simply proud that she saved the couple from being swindled. But with Alison and Mike, the sentiment is clearly not quite the same...

"Kitty, did you know this would happen?" Alison interrogates the Georgian ghost.

"I didn't, honestly! The Captain said that the basement would—" Kitty stops herself as the penny drops. She twirls around and notices the Captain's subdued gloating, while the other ghosts begrudgingly murmur impressed words. It looks like a step in the right direction to healing their rift, but not so much the one with the Coopers.

"It was nothing, really," says the Captain, "I'll give you a full debrief at 19:00 hours."

"Oh, don't forget your second-in-command!" Effie points at herself.

But that only infuriates Alison more, either seething or on the brink of exasperated tears as she cries, "You were in on this as well?"

"Hang on," Kitty suddenly realises, "you made me do something horrible!"

"Yes," the Captain reminds her, "but they're staying."

"Oh, that's good then."

All of a sudden, Mike cries out and starts slicing the air with his hands; any attempt to get a shapeless ghost in his grip. Fuming, he yells: "If I could cut you up right now, I could kill you, if I could see you! If you weren't already dead!"

"Steady on, mate!" Pat exclaims, ducking away from his attacks with the other ghosts.

"I feel like we're gonna be stuck here forever..." Alison whimpers.

"Join the club," Robin just lets out a grizzly laugh.

Effie glances over at Alison, whose brow is pinched with pain at the situation; she can't help but feel slightly guilty. But ultimately, she stands by her decisions. She will never be able to step into Alison's shoes completely, but the least she can do is make her see the bright side. "Alison, if anything, it was a bad business deal," she says softly. "I know a swindler when I see one."

     It does little to sway her mounting dread over being stuck even longer with the ghosts. They continue to talk over Alison, squabbling and butting in whenever they can, slowly sucking the life out of her. Only one ghost is missing — and miraculously, he appears to them in the doorway in his full form. Indeed, headless Humphrey is no longer headless, his severed head balanced back onto his neck and appearing his full height. To Effie, it's like seeing him in a whole new light.

"Well I never!" Norman jingles with joy.

"Guys, I'm back, and I feel amazing!" Humphrey celebrates and stretches out his arms. "So, did I miss anything, or was—" He speaks too soon, however, as a pigeon flies towards his face and makes him lose his balance, his head toppling off his shoulders and back onto the ground. Back to square one again. Everything returns to its usual chaos. Norman stoops to pick up his head, updating him on the whole debacle as everyone walks back inside...

It would seem that life goes on at Button House.

{⋅. ✯ .⋅}

     AFTER a rather long and excitable day, Effie is certainly ready to call it a night. Her spirit feels settled with the peace of mind that the Coopers will be staying at least a little while longer... she really is relieved about that. She has gotten used to the pitter-patter of Mike's slippers past her room, when he goes to brush his teeth before bed, and the soft glow of the fairy lights in their room that's visible beneath the door.

She passes that light as she makes her way to bed. It is like a beacon, warm and inviting, lighting up everything in this otherwise gloomy manor. If she listens carefully, Alison can be heard quietly moving in the room. Effie carefully walks up to the door and raises her fist to knock; then, remembering she can't do that, she chuckles. "Knock-knock," she says, loud enough for Alison to hear.

"Oh, hello Effie," Alison greets her tiredly. She is sat up in bed, cosy in her pyjamas with her laptop balanced on her legs.

"Hello..." Effie replies, almost nervously. "Just so you know, this won't be a nightly occurrence. I'm not like Kitty."

"Yeah, I gathered."

"But that's... that's not why I came here. I came here to say thank you."

Alison's expression softens, confused at first, but soon endeared by the flapper girl's honesty. She gently nods for her to continue talking.

"Thank you for staying. We've all had each other for many years, of course, but it still gets rather lonely sometimes." Effie sighs, almost feeling the chill of nearly a century of purgatory creep up on her. "So it's nice to have someone like you around... to feel like we exist, which we always did, and we aren't just a visual disturbance."

Chuckling, Alison asks, "Are you still cross about that visual disturbance thing?"

"Goodness, no! But don't you dare say it again."

"Well, that's very sweet, Effie. You're welcome," the brunette smiles at her. "Don't tell the others this, but I have to admit... you are probably one of the least stress-inducing ghosts around here."

"Truly?" Effie asks, perking up like a freshly-watered flower.

"Don't let it get to your head. But, I guess you are, yeah. It's kind of like having a wild, extroverted roommate at Uni."

"I don't know what you mean by that, but I'll take it."

The ghost and the human chuckle, a silence bloating between them. An owl hoots outside in the deep nighttime that envelops Button House — a reminder to Effie that she should probably be off. It's not like Alison won't be here in the morning, she reminds herself. The Coopers are here to stay, whether they like it or not. "Right then," she says, "I'll be off. This ghost needs her beauty sleep."

"Actually, Effie, could you wait? I'd... like to show you something."

Effie stops in the doorway and raises her brow curiously. Meanwhile, Alison opens up her laptop, the click-clack-click-clack of her typing filling the silence; that sound is still so foreign to the ghost. When did typewriters become so advanced? The living girl gestures for the long-gone one to sit at the side of the bed. Slowly, the flapper girl perches herself there, the warmth on the mattress laying dormant beneath her. Not quite touching her spirit.

"When you told me about your life in London, I got curious," Alison explains, "so I had a little look on YouTube—"

"The what tube?"

"Uhh... never mind. Anyway, I kind of fell down a YouTube rabbit hole, where there's all this restored footage from the olden days, including the 1920s. And so I thought... actually, I'll just let you watch it."

With a flicker of pride in her eyes, Alison clicks a button loudly and turns the screen to Effie. The flapper girl still hasn't caught on yet. Nevertheless, she plays along and leans forward, watching the title card detail some "digitally restored footage from 1920s London." And then, without warning, it's right there.

     "Oh!" Effie gasps.

     This is London. Her London. Instantly, she recognises the streets, the tall red buses going past the smartly-dressed men and women. She took for granted just how many years it had been since she's seen anyone dressed like that. Seeing it again, Effie suddenly feels so old. The footage moves less jauntily than she was used to back in the day, and more importantly, it is splashed with technicolour. It all seems so real.

     "Nothing has changed," Effie whispers in disbelief.

     Alison giggles. "That's because it's footage from 1922, Effie."

     "Right, of course, I knew that. But this is... this is incredible!"

More images pass by, her youth flashing before her eyes. She recognises the names of shops and remembers what it felt like to stand there. Unable to contain herself, Effie starts recounting everything that first rushes to mind when she sees it — the bustle of Victoria Station, the aromas of the fruit and vegetable market at Covent Garden, the toll of the bells in Westminster Abbey. And all those faces, they feel so familiar, like the people she remembers walking past on the street. It makes her spirit suddenly ache with a homesickness for her past.

Still, it's all fun and games, until one shot of two young women standing in St. James's Park. Effie freezes.

No. It couldn't possibly be... could it?!

"Alison, go back... go back!" Effie demands.

"What?"

"Back to the two girls feeding the swans!"

Alison obeys her request, carefully tracing the video back to the shot of two young women in the park, tossing pieces of bread into the pond to the swans. One of them is more petit, more shy and cautious, but anyone who knew her was well aware she was bequeathed with such charisma. As for the other girl, she appears more bold and even flirtatious, grinning and the camera and giggling. She knows that girl very well.

"That's me," says Effie; the words feel foreign coming out of her mouth.

"Wha– are you serious?" Alison blurts out. "I mean, are– are you sure? It's quite blurry—"

"Yes, I'm quite positive. That's me, on the right, and the girl on the left is my best friend, Olive."

Good grief. How long had it been since she spoke Olive Carter's name out loud? Far too long, it seems, because the simple mention of it makes her ache with missing her. In a most turbulent and uncertain time of her life, Olive had been a shoulder to cry on and a true friend. Not to mention she could really let loose on the dance floor — what was it they called her again? Yes, of course, the "pocket rocket." It all feels so long ago, and yet so recent.

Just like yesterday.

"But you look so different," Alison remarks. "And your hair, it's—"

"Darker. I know, it's a shocker, isn't it?" Effie chuckles. "That's my natural hair colour. More of a mousy brown. I bleached it blonde not very long afterwards."

"Hang on, are you saying you're a brunette?"

"Not so loud! I have a reputation to maintain, you know..."

Alison replays and pauses the video again, lingering on Olive and Effie's cheerful faces gazing into the camera. Memories come flooding back of the moment which she remembers crystal clear.

"That was a good day," says Effie fondly, warmed by the memory that takes shape again in her head, of a day she might have otherwise forgotten. "We had some time off work, so we just wandered around London all day. Definitely bumped into that cameraman once or twice. He was quite the bee's knees actually. We fed the swans, and then in the night, we went to a dance hall and partied until our feet ached and we were hopelessly tipsy..."

     The memory feels bittersweet now. The good old days. Nevertheless, Effie remains in awe of how Alison manages to dig this up. She had never thought of looking back into her past — now her mind wanders the London streets in 1922, trying to re-remember everything there.

     "I don't know how you did this, Alison, but... thank you," Effie whispers, fighting the lump in her throat. Truly, it might be one of the most special things anyone has done for her in nearly a century.

     "No problem. It was fascinating. I mean, what were the odds of us finding you on this footage?" Alison shakes her head incredulously with a smile. "So, it seems you quite enjoyed dancing back in the day?"

     Effie shrugs one shoulder, pursing her lips together. "I dabbled in a fair bit," she winks at her. "Oh, if you could have heard some of the tunes back then. Now don't get me wrong, you've converted me to some of this Spice Girls stuff, but nothing can beat that... that energy of all the jazz and swing. You could just completely let loose!"

     Click-clack-click-click...

"You're lucky you can access all this music nowadays. What I wouldn't give to hear something from my own youth—"

     "Something like this?" Alison asks, instantaneously pressing play on another video.

     ... And Effie is transported.

'Yes Sir, That's My Baby!' fills the room, big and bright and brilliant. Effie lets out a cry, turning from shocked to delighted. The room seems to disappear all around her — she is no longer by Alison's bed, but at the centre of the dance floor. Chandeliers glow above her, women shake their exposed knees and their bob haircuts, and the men all shed their stuffy evening wear to get moving. They are the youth. The generation who had to grow up during a whole war that changed the fabric of their lives; do they have any excuse not to celebrate the end of it? With no promise of tomorrow, they just dance.

Effie has not felt the urge to dance since she died, but the moment she hears the familiar tune, the rhythm returns like a tide arriving at the shore. It's irresistible. Her feet swivel into the muscle memory of Charleston, unable to contain herself as she grins giddily through her dance. She feels every pulse of the jaunty jazz music, rippling through each sweep of her arms and kick of her legs.

It has been far too long since she felt so... alive.

She is so wrapped up in her dancing, she barely notices Alison's quiet cheering, or the quartet of ghosts spying by the doorway. Fanny seems completely bewildered by the display of knees and elbows everywhere, Kitty is excitedly bobbing along to the music, Pat is wearing an impressed smile, and Thomas... well, he can barely believe what he is seeing. She is glowing like never before.

"What in heaven's name is going on in here?" Fanny demands; her tone might as well equate it to blasphemy.

"A party!" Effie laughs.

"Oh, hooray!" Kitty claps her hands eagerly and waddles into the room, unsure how to keep up with the flapper girl's moves.

"Wow, Effie," Pat laughs, "I never knew you could dance like that!"

Breathlessly, Thomas adds: "Indeed... it is another magic entirely."

"I thought I'd forgotten how to..." Effie beams, tears of joy starting to shimmer in her eyes; her glance drifts over to Alison sat in her bed, and her heart cannot help but overflow with gratitude. "... But Alison has brought back the music. She's brought it back!"

( END OF ACT ONE )

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

AUTHOR'S NOTE !

( date: 21st september, 2023 )
( edited: 15th october, 2024 )

aaaand that is the end of act one, at last! it only took me about... 3 years... lmao

despite me kind of rushing through the last episode's content, i was just so desperate to finish this, and also to reach the ending scene with alison and the old 1920s footage/music. it was a sweet scene i've had planned for ages 🥺 expect a sisterly bond to grow between effie and alison.

so, what can you expect from act two? it will follow season 2, which is my favourite season of ghosts, and it includes some of the show's best moments and episodes in my opinion (looking at you, redding weddy & the thomas thorne affair 👀). there will be more exploration of effie's dynamic with alison and the other ghosts, but also much more backstory for her! i'll be dripfeeding it throughout the whole book, and you can now expect to learn some more crucial things about effie's life going forward. it helps that the first season/act kind of worked as exposition for everything.

hope you are all enjoying flapper girl so far, and thank you for all the support up until now. cheers to act two!

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horrible histories
icon of today:
▕▁▁▁▁▁▁▵▁▁▁▁▁▁▏

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

( was OBSESSED with the
boudica song when i was
a kid! )

have a good day/evening,
— IMOGEN  ♡