I’d called in to visit my mother on my way home from the city late one afternoon back in the days when I lived in Melbourne, was married and ran my own one-man business from home as a freelance copywriter.
She had been researching our Family Tree and I wanted to hear her latest discoveries. I was in for a surprise.
As Florence greeted me at the door, eyes watering and cheeks flushed, she looked like she’d just seen a ghost.
In fact, she had.
“You won’t believe what I’ve discovered,” she declared sheepishly.
“You won’t believe this Neil,” she repeated, taking great pleasure in drawing out the moment of her big disclosure.
“No. What?” I asked, expecting to hear nothing more startling than the latest family gossip.
“Well, Neil, you remember Granny Fitz who I’ve often spoken about. I thought had died when I was five years old. She would sit at the table with us when we were eating our evening meal and she would always be there when I was playing on my own at home. Even though I was very young I can remember Granny so well.”
But Florence was in for the shock of her life.
Turns out that her Granny Fitz had died 17 years before she was born.
In other words, she was a ghost.
“I always thought it strange that she never ate at the meal table,” she continued.
“That’s why. You see, she was dead!”
Florence was truly spooked.
And so was I.
What was her secret?
And what was the big mystery she very cunningly wanted known?
How did her secret – and more – set me off on a world adventure which I’ve written about in my 244 page book.
It’s a page turner I promise.
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