The Girl and the Ghost

‘Let’s buy a chateau’, they said . . .

‘It’ll be an adventure’, they said . . .

‘You’ll meet a prince’, they said . . .

Chapter 1

THE CHATEAU

Josephine Eloise Thomas presses her face against the car window.

‘Surely, it can’t be much further,’ she says, frowning.

‘No, Jet,’ her father replies, calling her by her nickname and glancing at the dashboard. ‘According to the GPS, we’re almost –’

‘There! It’s up there!’ Josephine exclaims, pointing to two tall rows of pencil pines lining a long, straight driveway. She can’t take her eyes off the chateau perched on top of the hill in all its symmetrical glory.

‘Seriously, that’s where we’re going to live! Am I dreaming?’ Josephine gasps.

It’s only been a couple of hours since she and her father, Matt, stepmother, Ellie and their golden retriever, Daisy, left Bordeaux to drive to their new home in the French countryside. And mere days since they uprooted their life in Australia, making the almost twenty-four-hour plane journey from Sydney via Dubai to Bordeaux.

Ellie leans around to look at Josephine in the back seat of the silver Citroën with Daisy lying beside her.

‘It feels a bit like a dream, doesn’t it? Although, some people might say that renovating a three-hundred-year-old chateau is more like a nightmare,’ Ellie says. ‘Actually, remind me why we’re doing this, Jet? We had a perfectly good life in Sydney, didn’t we? Is this a sensible decision? Will we actually be able to transform this place into a luxury boutique hotel or will your father die in a painting and plastering accident before our first guest arrives?’

Josephine laughs. ‘That’s a definite possibility. Although, Dad’s prowess with a paintbrush is slightly better than his performance with a power saw, so it’s more likely he’ll cut his arm off first.’

‘Surely you jest,’ Matt protests, pretending to be offended as he steers the car through a set of grand iron gates into the property. ‘I’ve spent years watching DIY YouTube videos and whatever I can’t handle, I promise I’ll pass over to the professionals. You wait and see. I have spreadsheets and timelines and enough cameras to record the whole ordeal. I am, after all, an award-winning documentary filmmaker. Maybe one day someone will even want to watch it.’

‘I’m sure it will be very entertaining, Dad,’ Josephine says. ‘Your films are always fabulous – except for the boring ones.’

‘Gee, thanks, honey,’ he replies, then glances at his wife. ‘You don’t really mean that, do you, El? You’re not having second thoughts?’ Considering his wife holds a first-class honours degree in French language and literature and has often expressed a desire to live in France, he’s slightly taken aback by her comments.

‘No – of course not,’ Ellie says with a smile. ‘We always said that Josephine and Teddy should have a chance to know their mother’s culture. And why else have I been teaching you all to speak French for the past umpteen years if you’re never going to use it? Besides, compared to the price of Sydney real estate, this place is a bargain!’

‘Is that what we’re calling it?’ Matt asks.

‘More like a money pit,’ Josephine replies with a teasing grin. ‘Speaking of Teddy, when is that big brother of mine turning up? Surely a whole month surfing in Portugal is enough?’

‘On the weekend sometime,’ Matt says. ‘He’s promised me that as soon as he gets here, he’s pulling on his workboots until Christmas. If that doesn’t encourage him to go to university, then I don’t know what will.’

As the car crunches to a halt on the gravel driveway, Josephine is out the door with Daisy before her father turns off the ignition.

In front of her, the creamy sandstone facade of the Chateau Margaux glints in the afternoon sun. The roofline reminds Josephine of a wedding cake with its matching towers at either end, its chimneys and its dormer attic windows.

She sighs as Daisy bounces excitedly beside her. ‘Isn’t this the most exciting thing ever, Daisy? Well, maybe not as thrilling as chasing ducks in the park or swimming in the harbour, but can you imagine – we’re going to live in a chateau in France. A castle! It’s on the smaller side – definitely nowhere near as big as that one down the road – but still. It’s ours!’

‘I believe that place is called Chateau Du Lac,’ her father says. ‘Translates as “the castle on the lake”, but where the lake is, remains a mystery.’

‘Perhaps we should drop by with a cake one afternoon – meet the neighbours and practise our French,’ Ellie says.

‘Oh, oui, that would be fun,’ Josephine replies. ‘Maybe a prince lives there.’

‘Or a witch?’ Matt teases.

‘I’m not afraid of witches, they’re only in fairytales,’ Josephine says. ‘But you never know, I might be able to work both into my next story. They will have to speak French, bien sûr.’

‘Oh, yes,’ Ellie says enthusiastically, ‘I can’t wait to see what you come up with now that we’re here. I know that one day, I’m going to walk into a bookshop and see rows of books with your name on them.’

Josephine laughs. ‘Maybe one day. But right now, I can’t wait to see my new room. Actually, I can’t wait to see every room.’

‘Steady on, Jet – it might take you a while,’ her dad says. ‘You know there are . . .’

‘Fifteen bedrooms and that’s just in the main house,’ Josephine and Ellie chorus. Daisy adds a bark for good measure.

‘We know, Dad, you’ve only told us about a thousand times,’ Josephine says, rolling her eyes.

Wide stone steps fan up to the sculpted double front doors, their ornate iron lacework protecting antique glass inserts. Each of the chateau’s elegant windows is surrounded by intricate carvings, but Josephine’s eyes are immediately drawn to two sandstone dragons perched on the roof either side of the central dormer. She’s seen so many photos and even a live stream of their chateau, but it’s still a bit overwhelming to see it in real life.

Josephine whispers up at the serpents, ‘I hope we can be friends – in case I need you to keep any scary things away.’

‘What was that, honey?’ Ellie asks as she walks up behind her.

‘Nothing,’ Josephine replies with a shake of her head. ‘I was just looking at the Juliet balcony. It’s so romantic.’

Matt runs a hand through his thick brown hair and adjusts his red-framed glasses. ‘I can see your stepmum standing up there. Matt-eo, Matt-eo, wherefor art thou Matt-eo?’ he recites as if he were an actor in a Shakespearean tragedy.

Ellie rolls her eyes. ‘I don’t think so, Matt-eo. More likely I’ll be gripping your ankles trying to stop you from falling to your death because you’ve decided to repair those cracks without a harness.’

Matt turns to her, an indignant look on his face. ‘Sweetheart, what sort of idiot do you take me for?’

‘Two words, Dad,’ Josephine says with a glare before Ellie can answer. ‘Garage. Roof.’

Ellie nods. Daisy barks

Matt’s shoulders slump and he pouts – his bottom lip sticking out like a tantrum-throwing toddler. ‘Okay, point taken. But in my defence, that tile did need to be fixed, and the weather reports did not predict that sudden thunderstorm and I managed to land on my feet without breaking anything. But, ah, yes, a tumble from the Juliet balcony would be far more perilous.’

As Josephine stands with her family on the front steps, she wonders if any of this is real. Girls from the North Shore of Sydney don’t live in houses like this, do they?

‘Can we go inside?’ she asks.

‘We haven’t got a key,’ Ellie replies. ‘And as I predicted, there is no sign of . . .’ But before she can finish her sentence the door swings open and Madame Gagnier, their real estate agent or, Immobilier Extraordinaire, as she refers to herself, is standing in front of them – all frothy blonde curls, ruby lips, towering black heels and a figure-hugging red dress showing more cleavage than an eighteenth-century courtier.

‘Bonjour, Monsieur Thomas. Welcome to the Chateau Margaux – your beautiful new home,’ she says, emerging into the sunlight and planting a kiss on each of Matt’s blushing cheeks. ‘I have parked my new Mercedes around the back – I wanted you to have an unspoiled view of the chateau on approach.’

Josephine and Ellie exchange knowing glances. It’s been a running joke for months that Madame Gagnier has a crush on Matt and, so far, the woman has done nothing to dispel their theory.

Madame Gagnier looks Ellie and Josephine up and down, a disapproving wrinkle on her lips. ‘Bonjour, wife and child. Now, I have important things to explain before we commence our tour.’

Josephine looks at her father and stepmother then back to Madame Gagnier. ‘Really? I don’t want to wait a second longer. Sorry, madame, but I’m going in.’

‘Sacré bleu!’ Madame Gagnier declares, throwing her hands into the air. ‘This is exactly why I never had any children. They are so . . . pushy.’

‘Jet’s right – apologies, madame, but we’d like to see our house. You can tell us everything after we have a look,’ Matt says with a broad smile.

And with that, Josephine rushes past Madame Gagnier and into the grand entrance hall. Daisy, Matt and Ellie are close behind her, each completely unaware of how much their lives will soon be changed forever.