FLAPPER GIRL | ❝All those people, all those lives, where are they now?❞
In all her ninety-something years of death, all Effie Connolly wishes for is some excitement in Button House... from anyone other than the fellow ghosts she's stuck in purg...
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CHAPTER SEVEN the talkie
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A STREAM OF milk gushes into Alison's bowl of cereal, much to the fascination of the ghosts huddled around the living girl. The cereal particles crackle loudly, even to be heard from where Effie is stood. "See?" Pat says eagerly to Mary and Kitty, "Snap, crackle and pop!"
"They sounds like tiny people!" Mary warbles. "Plip-plip-plip-plip-plip — 'Help me, I can't swim!'"
"Guys, do you mind?" Alison deadpans tiredly, looking rather queasy now. The trio instantly go silent around her, although it does not calm her completely — it is hard not to when she can clearly see a room full of ghosts in the kitchen. Effie herself is stood behind Pat, her arms folded as she inspects her nails.
Of course, Mike can't see them, which is why he stares around awkwardly. "What are they doing?"
"Talking about the cereal."
He shrugs, only slightly puzzled. Alison's husband seems to have given in cluelessly that she can ghosts, and Effie has to applaud him for how well he has adapted. No more 'visual disturbances' comments, just rolling with the punches... that he can't hear or see. Punches such as Robin running in and gruffly shouting, "Red man!" repeatedly at the top of his lungs. Alison immediately recognises this to mean the post man is coming, leaving Mike alone with the ghosts (one less, however, as Kitty trots after Alison singing "Friends together, fetch the post together!").
The man turns around, trying to see into the 'empty' room. He suddenly fixates on a random point, which just so happens to be in intense eye contact with Effie, and announces: "Cornflakes were actually invented to stop people from touching themselves... apparently."
"Why are you looking at me?" Effie replies, slightly disgusted, although she knows he can't hear. She shuffles over to the dresser and lifts herself up to sit on the end — the ghostly physics of which she still doesn't understand — sat between Thomas and Julian, in front of the plates and cups balanced delicately on the shelves.
"I never liked cornflakes," Julian hums self-consciously.
The poet next to him nods in agreement. "Give me an egg atop a cutlet any day of the diary— AH!" Thomas suddenly yelps; the toast popping up behind them seems to have given him the fright of his life (or death) as he clutches his heart, eyes wide. Effie would tease him for it, but the ghost seems genuinely terrified for a split second.
"Toaster," Julian clarifies.
While Effie careens to the side as Mike reaches for his toast, Thomas calms himself down and stammers, "Yes, I know, I– I wasn't scared..."
