Let’s just say I didn’t sleep well. Finding out you’ve been spending most of the last few days with someone who turns out to be something other than what you thought—well it wasn’t pleasant. I couldn’t help turning over the possibilities of my grandfather and my discovery until late into the night.

They weren’t pleasant.

Ash wasn’t imaginary—he was real, his knowledge of my grandfather had shown that. So he was real. But he was also dead.

I shuddered and rolled over. Giovanni had left no doubt on that point . . . so what was he? I didn’t believe in ghosts—I was a scientist. But when the only explanation left was the impossible . . . I shivered, suddenly cold.

The mournful howl broke the gravity of the night. I waited, listening to the feeling rise and fall of the sound. I’d never known it possible for a pokemon to feel such sorrow. It sounded almost human. It made me feel even more the desolateness of the house. I decided to find my grandfather.

About to knock on his door, I paused. I didn’t want to wake him—but I could hear voices within. I pushed the door open.

"I’m very sorry to be the one who has to tell you this," my grandfather said, his back to me. "But Ashton is a ghost." He sighed. "No, too direct. I’ve made a discovery which may upset you—that’s better."

"Talking to yourself?" I asked.

My grandfather turned to me, with a rueful smile. "Practicing for tomorrow. I don’t know how I’ll manage to tell them—I wish there was someway to spare Delia this ordeal."

"Maybe we should wait. After all we don’t know if he is a ghost."

"You’re the one who saw him. What else could he be?" My grandfather sighed.

"Poor child. But what brings you up at this hour, Garrick? Surely you’re not troubled by the nightly chorus?"

"Ha, ha," I said. "No I was having trouble sleeping and thought that you might be the same. I wanted to talk to someone."

"Been turning over this matter in your mind over and over?" My grandfather sighed. "Maybe we’re more alike than we realise."

We went over the whole business again. I told my grandfather everything he didn’t already know of my encounters with the residents of the house and my thoughts on the strange business of Miss Waterflower’s behaviour.

"This is a most strange business, indeed," he said, once I’d finished. "A good deal too much for this old head to make sense of."

"We’re not yet in possession of all the facts," I reminded him.

"That’s true. Well, we can continue our investigations in the morning."

"You know, I’ve got a rather novel suggestion. Why don’t we just ask Giovanni what it going on here?"

My grandfather tutted. "It would be most ungentlemanly. He might suspect us of prying!"

"You mean, it would be too convenient. But isn’t prying what we’re doing?"

"Of course not. I consider this more in the way of a discreet inquiry on behalf of a friend."

You know, trust the British . . .

"Goodnight, Grandfather."

"Garrick? One last thing. If you happen to see Ashton, would you mind mentioning to him that I would not be adverse to seeing him myself?" He sighed. "I’m a fond old man and I must confess, I do miss him . . ."

"I’ll pass it on," I promised.

As I walked back to my room I wondered if that was such a good idea. I wasn’t that keen on seeing Ash again . . . I mean, he was a ghost . . . A hinge squeaked.

I stopped.

The hinge continued to squeak, in a manner that indicated a door was being opened slowly, probably by someone anxious to avoid notice. I stepped back into an open room nearby and waited. Very shortly I saw a little glimmer of light spread down the hall and then Mrs Giovanni, carrying a tray and wearing a dressing gown over her nightdress followed it. After a moment’s hesitation I followed her.

She continued down the hallway making little noise until she came to a door at the end of it. She knocked once and waited.

Mr Giovanni opened the door.

"Delia? What are you doing up this late?"

In answer the tray was held up. I could see a teapot, and cups.

Mr Giovanni smiled, gently touching his wife’s cheek. "You shouldn’t, love.

You need your rest. Leave me to my work."

Mrs Giovanni ignored him and stepped into the room beyond where I surmised, she put down the tray because she then took Giovanni’s hand and forced a tea cup into it. "I see," he said smiling. "I need to take care of myself too, is that it?" Mrs Giovanni nodded and touched his cheek.

"I don’t deserve you," Giovanni said. "But could any man, ever deserve such a spouse? But I—when I think of what I’ve done to you--"

I took a cautious step closer to the open door. I couldn’t tell exactly what was going on. They’d gone inside the room and I could only hear Giovanni’s voice faintly. I think Mrs Giovanni must have answered him somehow . . . because the next words I heard were, "You are right of course. The past cannot be changed, we must think only of the future.

We cannot go back, only forward. And, my love, I do believe that my research is coming closer to that one step forward we need. That is why I’ve been so neglectful of late. I think that any day soon I may make the discovery that is to put all of this right."

"Pika-pika!"

The sound was totally unexpected. Apart from the eerie howls from the laboratory, I had not seen hide nor hair of any pokemon since arriving in Giovanni’s house. "That’s right," Giovanni chuckled. "All will be well." I guessed another interruption from Mrs Giovanni, then "You’re right, time for us to turn in. Let’s see this fellow off to bed first."

I looked for a hiding place in the hallway and saw none. ‘No need for panic. I’ll just say I was unable to sleep, went to visit my grandfather and got lost on the way back—which isn’t that far from the truth.’

But as it turned out I had nothing to worry about. Minutes passed and no one left that little room. I waited until my curiousity got strong enough for me to chance a look at the room—empty.

Of course.

I didn’t get the chance I was hoping for the next morning to ask my grandfather to see that he stayed with Giovanni at all times. As it turned out I didn’t need it—at breakfast my grandfather’s former pupil announced his intention to go into town in order to procure some things he needed for his experiments. He invited my grandfather and I to accompany him, and while my grandfather was glad to accept, I declined. I was determined to investigate that room.

I suspected a secret passage—it was the right type of creepy house. And Giovanni had to be hiding something . . . besides it would take my mind of the fact that I hadn’t seen or heard any trace of Ash, and I missed him. Even if he wasn’t what I thought he was.

The room had a big wide fireplace. If I knew my sensational literature right, there had to be some sort of passage behind it. Now, these things were usually triggered by some sort of switch . . . I put my hand up inside the chimney searching for some sort of lever.

"You know, I won’t even ask."

I sighed, not turning around. "Go away, Ash."

"Aren’t you cheerful? You should at least listen to me. I came to apologise."

"That would be a novelty."

"I can’t imagine why but I was feeling bad about getting you wet. I’m sorry about pushing you in the pond—I wasn’t thinking."

"And?"

"And what? I’ve said I was sorry!"

I turned around and glared at him. "What about misleading me as to what you really were? I thought you were only imaginary."

He glared back. "You came up with that little gem all on your own. And, if you’ll remember, I told you I was real. You just didn’t believe me."

It was impossible to argue with him. "Are you just going to sulk?"

"I’m not sulking," I told him loftily. "The fact of the matter is that when we began our association I was under the impression that you were a figment of my imagination. However now that I have discovered that you are other than what you seem I am unsure as to whether our acquaintance should be continued."

It was fun annoying British people. They have such a small range of insults that are considered ‘proper’. Ash curled up semi-transparent fists. "You are such a, a—" He got stuck.

"Cad?" I suggested with a smirk. "Ungentleman-like?"

"Self-important, facetious and obnoxious jackass!" Satoshi finished, with more creativity than the rest of Her Majesty’s subjects that I’d annoyed. "And I’m not talking to you again ever!"

"Wonderful," I replied. "That suits me just fine." I went back to my examination of the chimney.

"Why is that chimney so interesting?"

"Thought you weren’t talking to me?"

"I meant starting from after this conversation."

I smirked and turned around to rub in the fact that was such a weak response and stopped.

"Where are you?"

"I’m right here."

"Where’s here?" I said, turning around the room. I could not see Ash anywhere.

"Wherever I want to be." His voice sounded as if it was level with my ear. I turned again and there was nothing.

"Stop that."

"Make me."

I gritted my fists. This was so irritating! "So, why are you looking up our chimney?"

"If you have to know," I said, "I’m looking for a passage I know is in here."

Satoshi’s tone changed. "You’d better not."

"And why is that?"

"This is my father’s study! He doesn’t like it if people come in here and poke around."

"I’m not poking. I’m discreetly investigating a matter for a friend." I would stop making fun of my grandfather.

"Well don’t. You don’t know what you might find."

"That’s the whole point." Since trying to face an invisible Ash was a waste of time I went back to looking in the chimney.

"You know people who pry into other people’s chimney’s get covered in soot,"

Satoshi said.

I ignored him.

I heard a soft thud above me and then suddenly I was enveloped in a cloud of black. I coughed, drawing myself hastily out of the chimney.

Everything from the top of my head to my shoulders was black.

"Told you so," Ash said smugly.

"You did that on purpose," I accused.

"You deserved it," he replied. I glared at the chimney, where his voice was coming from.

"Brat."

"Jackass."

"Go away, will you? A little soot is not going to stop me."

I went back to investigating the chimney. Perhaps the trigger was located in the ornate scrollwork surrounding the fireplace.

A few minutes passed without interruptions and then the door was suddenly flung open.

"And what do you think you’re doing now?"

I sighed. "Miss Waterflower. Just who I wanted to see . . . "