Dial a Ghost

Chapter Sixteen

It was the worst day of their lives, both Miss Pringle and Mrs Mannering were agreed on that.

When Mother Margaret and Sister Phyllida came into Miss Pringle’s office, Miss Pringle was delighted. She liked the nuns enormously and she hoped to get good news of her favourite family.

But one look at their faces and the question died in her throat. Mother Margaret looked as though she hadn’t slept for a week; Sister Phyllida had obviously been crying.

‘The most dreadful thing has happened,’ said Mother Margaret. ‘It has been the most terrible experience!’

‘And frankly we don’t understand how you came to do this to us, Miss Pringle. We only wanted to help.’

Miss Pringle was growing more and more frantic. ‘But what has happened? Are you not satisfied with the Wilkinsons? Surely—’

‘Satisfied!’ Mother Margaret was no longer the kind and placid nun who had been to the agency before. ‘Satisfied! When we have two lambs with dislocated legs and a kid with a gash in its throat still at the vet! When we nearly lost our favourite calf and the chickens will probably never lay again!’

‘But I don’t understand. What has gone wrong? Please explain — I sent you the nicest ghosts in—’

Mother Margaret rose from her chair. ‘The nicest ghosts! The nicest! I admit we are not worldly women but you had no right to play such a trick on us. If nice ghosts swoop down on innocent animals and scratch them with their fingernails… If nice ghosts wear evil pythons round their throats and tear the feathers off baby chicks…’

She couldn’t go on. Tears choked her.

‘And the man, Miss Pringle!’ Sister Phyllida took up the story. ‘That dreadful hoofmark, the vicious knees, the stench! He picked up a goat bodily and would have torn it limb from limb if Sister Felicity hadn’t raised her crucifix. Not only that — poor Sister Bridget hit out at the lady with a rowan branch, and look!’ She felt in the pocket of her habit and took out a small box which she opened. ‘You can imagine how she felt when this dropped on to her head.’

Miss Pringle leant forward and her worst fears were confirmed. Quite clear to those who have an eye for such things, was the decayed and bloodstained toe of Lady Sabrina de Bone.

She covered her face with her hands and moaned. ‘Oh heavens, how terrible. It was a mistake… a ghastly, ghastly mistake. Our mistake of course! We were asked for some really frightening ghosts for a stately home in the north and we sent the Shriekers. At least we thought we had. And you were supposed to get the Wilkinsons. I just can’t understand it — we took such care to match you up.’ She too was almost in tears. ‘Thank goodness you knew about exorcism. I mean rowan twigs and prayers and so on.’

‘We knew about it,’ said Mother Margaret. ‘But it is not a thing we liked to do. We wanted to welcome lost souls, not banish them.’

‘Are they… the Shriekers completely… you know… destroyed?’ asked Miss Pringle nervously.

‘Not they! They just took off cursing and screaming, dragging that wretched blob along behind them. They were coming back to London, I believe.’

Miss Pringle was beside herself. ‘You must let us make it up to you — the cost…’

But the nuns shook their heads. ‘There is no money that can make up to us for the terror and the sadness. Our new litter of puppies simply won’t leave their mother at all. They spend their time underneath her — and the bees will take weeks to recover.’

Though she was quite broken up by what had happened, Miss Pringle made a last plea for her favourite family. ‘You wouldn’t consider trying the Wilkinsons instead? They—’

But she had gone too far. ‘Definitely not, Miss Pringle. Frankly, we are surprised that you can ask it,’ said Mother Margaret.

And leaving Lady de Bone’s toe on Miss Pringle’s desk they went away.

When something bad has happened what one needs more than anything is a kind friend to talk to. But when Miss Pringle hurried across the corridor, she found Mrs Mannering as upset as she was herself.

‘I was just coming over, Nellie. I’ve had that Mr Boyd on the telephone — the one from Helton Hall. He was absolutely furious. It seems as though we sent him the Wilkinsons, and he wants them out. He says they’re namby-pamby and useless and he wants the ones he ordered at once. He wants the Shriekers. But where are they?’

‘I’ll tell you where they are,’ said Miss Pringle.

When she had finished, Mrs Mannering had turned quite pale. ‘The honour of our agency is at stake, Nellie. We must find out how it happened. I quite definitely put the Shriekers’ maps in a red folder and gave them to Ted.’

‘And I quite definitely put the Wilkinsons’ maps into a green folder and gave them to Ted.’

So they went into the little office at the back where Ted was sorting out the mail.

‘Now, Ted,’ said Mrs Mannering, ‘there has been a dreadful muddle and we have sent the wrong ghosts to two lots of adopters. Do you remember my giving you a red folder to leave out for the Shriekers?’

‘And do you remember me giving you a green folder to give to the Wilkinsons?’

Ted got to his feet and stood before them. He was blushing and looking very hang-dog indeed.

‘Yes, I do. But… Well, I left them out like you said… Only… you see…’

So then it all came out. How he was colour-blind and had been afraid to tell them because he didn’t want to lose his job.

‘Oh, Ted, you should have told us; it was very wrong of you. We wouldn’t have dismissed you just for that, and now look at the harm you’ve done.’

‘We’ll have to get a computer anyway,’ said Mrs Mannering. ‘But in the meantime we must put this right at once. Fortunately the Shriekers are still wanted at Helton, so I’ll see if I can get hold of them and let them know.’

‘And I shall go to the Wilkinsons myself and break the bad news. The trouble is the nuns have been put right off adopting any more spooks, so we can’t do a swop. You’re sure they can’t stay at Helton too?’

‘Quite sure. Mr Boyd’s really taken against them. He wants them out at once.’

Miss Pringle dabbed her eyes. ‘It looks as though it’s back to the knicker shop for that dear, nice family. You know, Dorothy, sometimes I think that life just isn’t fair.’