Young Writers Society

When Eliza Jane Clairvoy had first arrived at Edelweiss’ Boarding House, she’d stopped for a good two minutes to take it all in. The mansion was larger and older than any building she’d been in. There were five floors, each with at least twenty windows, and the walls of grey stone were held together by ivy and moss. Oak trees surrounded the mansion, resembling an army guarding their king.

Inside, the house was lit with gas-lights and smelt like an antique store. A winding staircase loomed above her and around Eliza was a giggling crowd of girls. Most of them were her age, wearing hair ribbons and stockings. But Eliza was surprised to see girls as old as fifteen, who spoke in posh tones and had their hair tied in buns. She hoped they wouldn’t talk to her. Eliza didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of the older girls, and she was always saying the wrong things!

“Good afternoon.” An expressionless woman in a black dress towered above the crowd, holding a brass bell. She told them she was the Matron, then went through a long list of rules. Most importantly, they had to return whenever the bell rung. Or else.She was a stern, frightening woman, and Eliza worried about spending a whole summer in her care.

She felt better when she was led up the staircase and saw the beautiful paintings adorning Edelweiss’ walls. There were portraits of princesses, men holding ancient scrolls, and lovers in France.

“Look at that!” A blonde girl with freckles grinned at Eliza and pointed out a painting of an old lady. “There’s a cat sitting on her head!” Eliza giggled, but felt her cheeks redden and dared not carry the conversation any further. She quickened her pace and followed the Matron to the fifth floor dormitory.

She was assigned to a room with six bunks, all positioned around a central pink rug. Eliza watched as her room mates dashed to their beds, throwing down bags and books and arguing over who’d sleep on top. Eliza just stood in the doorway, twiddling her thumbs. They were all so much older! One sported of a string of pearls, and another even wore a dress like Eliza’s mother!

“You can have that bed!” The freckle-faced girl from the stairs waved a hand at the bunk beside her.

Eliza traipsed over to it, smiling. She’d just about gained the courage to say something, when the girl turned around and started chatting with someone else.

“I’m Ruby.” A head popped down from bunk above her, “And your name?”

Eliza froze, taken by surprise. “Umm. Your name’s Eliza.” She quickly added, “I mean, my name is… Eliza.” She felt a horrible warmth rising to her cheeks when Ruby stifled a laugh.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, and pulled her head away.

Eliza silently chastised herself. She was embarrassed already and it hadn’t even been a day yet! She crossed her legs on the bed, and waited for the Matron to come and give them more instructions.

The grim-faced lady explained their first lesson, and that they could go play outside afterwards. Before she left them to prepare, however, the air turned sour and the Matron, looking each boarder in the eye, hissed, “Don’t lurk in the dark, or the poltergeist will get you!”

A spark was set off in the dormitory, and her peers began telling stories of ghosts and cackling witches.

Eliza wiped a tear from her eye. She felt completely out of place in the massive boarding house, with its creaking walls and haunting poltergeists. Nobody was familiar to her and she didn’t feel brave enough to make friends with the grown-up girls around her. The musty air smelt nothing like the cupcakes her mother had promised she’d make at Edelweiss’, and the ghost stories were a complete contrast to the elegant poems she was meant to be learning.

Eliza’s only comfort was the whimsical, humorous collection of paintings hanging around the mansion. So, when the first lesson ended and her peers ran outdoors to play cricket, she started up the winding, lonely stairs.

Eliza visited the portraits of princesses, curtseying as she passed them. She nodded to the men holding scrolls and blew kisses at the lovers in France. She patted the cat who was atop the old lady’s head, her fingers brushing over bumpy canvas.

After a good hour of exploring, Eliza passed a painting of a fairground. She could almost smell the popcorn and hear the humming tune of amusement rides. There was a girl in it with her hair in ringlets, wearing a purple dress and a ruffled collar. A wide smile was plastered on her face. Eliza wished she was at the fair, having as splendid a time as the girl, rather than at Edelweiss’ Boarding House without a friend to talk to.

“Hello there!” Eliza froze, hearing the joyful voice whisper directly in her ear. Except there was no one else on the stairs. She thought of the cackling ghosts her peers had told stories about, and the poltergeist rumoured to walk the halls. A shiver ran down her spine when the voice whispered again. “Over here! In the painting.“

She turned slowly, coming face to face with the canvas. The little girl in the fairground was beaming. Eliza gasped, the painting was talking to her!

“Huh... hello?” She stuttered in reply.

“Hello! I’m Ethel May Wetherell. What’s your name?”

“I’m... Eliza.”

“Is that all?” Ethel asked, tilting her head.

“Umm…” She couldn’t believe it, yet there was no doubt about it. The girl made of paint and brushstrokes was definitely talking to her. “My full name… it’s Eliza Jane Clairvoy.”

The girl’s face brightened, her eyes sparkling. “Ooh! Does that mean you’re a fortune teller?”

“No. I’m just a student.”

Ethel rolled her eyes. ‘Well, I knew that!” Eliza blushed and the fairground girl quickly added, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“That’s okay.” Eliza silently reprimanded herself, feeling silly for stating something so obvious.

A cold gust of wind crept up the staircase, carrying the sound of the Matron’s heavy brass bell. She could hear the patter of feet on the floor below, and realised that the other girls were being herded inside. Eliza would have to hurry to her dormitory soon, it was getting late. She didn’t want to be caught lurking in the dark, not by a poltergeist and especially not by the Matron.

“I should probably go,” she told Ethel.

“Oh no! Please stay!” Eliza’s eyes widened as the girl moved within her painting. Ethel stepped to the side, touching the frame, so that Eliza had a full view of the fairground. The merry-go-round was marvellous, lit up with the colours of the rainbow. Miniscule brushstrokes formed the outlines of horses and motor cars, twirling around in circles. Eliza shuffled closer to the canvas and could faintly hear children laughing and the bubbly tunes of the ride. There were silhouettes of fair-goers dotted all over, some jumping with joy and some holding boxes of popcorn, which she could smell. Eliza felt she was viewing a dream.

“Say you’ll come and play, Eliza Jane. We could have so much fun!”

“I can go inside?”

“Of course! Just take my hand.” Ethel reached out her arm, and Eliza watched with disbelief as it pushed through the canvas, a very tangible, human hand hovering only inches from her own.

Eliza considered pinching herself, could she be dreaming after all? But everything seemed so real. The touch of the wind, the musty smell of approaching night, the feel of cold stone at her feet and the voices below. Then there was the girl in the fairground, her hair in beautiful ringlets, the scent of popcorn and the music of the merry-go-round wafting behind her. If it was a dream, Eliza didn’t want to wake up.

The pit-patter of shoes on the stairs grew louder, and Eliza could hear the chattering of her peers. She had only seconds to decide whether or not she was going with Ethel, who was biting her lip with anticipation. Eliza reasoned that she wasn’t the ghost of a cranky old hag, or a pesky poltergeist. She was kind, and might make a good friend.

“Alright. I’ll come.” Eliza took Ethel’s warm hand and, in a whirlwind of white, was sucked into the painting.

The fairground was like heaven.

Eliza had to squint as her eyes adjusted to the sunlight, its warmth tingling her skin. A male figure carrying a barrel organ brushed past her and Eliza rocked back and forth, soaking in the jolly music it made. Ethel pulled her out of the way when a crowd of excited children ran after the performer. They were dressed similarly in ruffled dresses, sailor outfits and aprons.

“Welcome to the carnival, Eliza!” Ethel beamed, pulling her towards the merry-go-round. It was so much grander in person, Eliza felt like she was standing at the bottom of a rainbow, looking up at a heaven of bright lights and every colour imaginable. The horses looked alive and the motor cars as if they could drive away, putt-putting over the horizon.

“Do you like merry-go-rounds?” Ethel asked.

“I’ve only been on one, years ago.” Eliza could remember being at a fair with her mother. She’d clutched onto the wooden horse’s mane, too frightened of falling off to enjoy herself. This time was different, this time she was excited.

They joined the que of bubbly children, all gobbling up yummy food and anticipating their turns on the ride.

“I go on it all the time,” Ethel said. “Oh- look! Elliot!.” A plump boy in a navy blue sailor’s outfit appeared in front of them. He held a box of buttered popcorn, though most of the butter was smothered around his mouth.

“Hey, Ethel. Who’th thith?”

“Eliza Jane Clairvoy. But she isn’t a fortune teller.”

He held out a grubby hand, his fingers bright yellow. “I’m Elliot, but I thuppose you already knew that.” When their hands touched, Eliza heard an awful squelchingsound.

“Oh!” She snatched her hand back, startled, and saw a splotch of yellow on her palm.

“Elliot, you shouldn’t surprise people like that!” Ethel offered her a handkerchief. “It’s only paint, Eliza. You’re in a painting after all.”

“Sorry,” she said, suddenly feeling very silly. Why did she keep embarrassing herself?“Don’t be thorry!” Elliot shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth, and continued whilst munching, “I wunth jumped two feet high becauth the vendor thed he wasth out’a popcorn!” Ethel laughed, and a smile spread across Eliza’s lips. She imagined the boy holding an empty box, his mouth yellow as cheese, leaping into the air because he couldn’t have another serve of popcorn. Eliza started giggling too and her embarrassment was wiped away by the joyous sights and sounds of the fairground.

“It’s our turn now!” Ethel said. The merry-go-round’s music squealed like a pig as it slowed to a stop. “Come on, Eliza!”

“Out’a my way!” Elliot pushed past the pair, running and shoving until he reached the front of the line. “I get the grey car!”

“He always wants the grey car,” Ethel groaned.

“It’th mine!” Elliot was shouting at something in the grey car, but Eliza couldn’t see a thing. It looked empty. “Get out!” Then she saw it- a grey shadow. It only lasted for a second, though, and Elliot clambered into the car as if nothing had been there.

When it was time for them to climb onto the platform, a cheerful man in a top hat reached out his hand for Eliza. “Would you like a horse or a car, miss?”

There was no doubt in her mind when she answered, “A horse, please.” Just like the one she’d ridden with her mother.

“A noble steed it is, then.” Eliza braced herself for another squelching sound when she took the man’s hand, but was relieved to hear only the excited chatter of her fellow riders. He picked her up by the waist and placed her on a horse so beautiful it could have jumped out of a fairytale. It was spotted brown with a long blonde mane. Eliza stroked its golden locks, discovering that it had real hair! At least, it felt like real hair; she had to remind herself that everything here was paint.

Ethel took the horse beside her, a shining black mare. “Here we go! Hold on tight!” Eliza did hold on as the merry-go-round rumbled to life, but not tight. She wasn’t going to let fear stop her having fun for a second time.

It was hypnotising. Eliza lost all sense of the world outside. All she saw were the familiar faces of waving adults and impatient queuers, disappearing and reappearing as she travelled round and round. All she felt was the warm wind, swooping past as she bopped up and down. All she could hear was the playful music, and her whoops of joy mixed with those around her. All she could smell was the her noble steed with its freshly polished wood, and the lingering scent of Alistair’s popcorn. All her senses mixed together in a cloud of bliss, and Eliza forgot that she had ever walked through the doors of Edelweiss’ Boarding House.

“Isn’t this fun!” Ethel laughed.

Eliza’s head flew up and down, her nods emphasised by the motion of the ride. Pure laughter echoed from her throat, filling the air around her, and she realised she’d never had so much fun with another person before.

“Thank you, Ethel!”

The painting girl shrugged, eyes shining like the sun. As if she could read Eliza’s mind, she replied, “That’s what friends are for!”

Eliza gazed at Ethel and began to voice her agreement, but was interrupted by a scream.

“Get off!” Her attention snapped to the car ahead of her. Inside it, a red-headed girl was squealing and frantically swatting at the air. Her hair was flying this way and that, being pulled by invisible hands. “Somebody get it off me!”

“It’s a poltergeist!” Ethel shouted, pointing at the girl’s head. At first, Eliza couldn’t see it amongst the bright lights of the merry-go-round, but she focussed hard, and there it was. A puff of smoke, pale-grey and ethereal.

The merry go round grinded to a halt, and the children’s frightened shouts were all that was left. They clambered off horses and jumped out of the cars, running into their parents’ arms. All the while, the girl’s hair danced around her head like burning flames.

Ethel slid out of her saddle and tugged on Eliza’s arm. “It must have followed you in. Come on!”

Goosebumps formed on Eliza’s skin and she tightened her grip on the horse’s mane.. Could she really be responsible for the poltergeist’s mischief?

Ethel ran to the red-head and started grabbing at her fiery locks, trying to hold them down. The smoke just hovered there, completely unphased as the girl screamed.

“Eliza!” Ethel shouted. “You’ve got to stop it!”

“You brought it!” The man waved his top hat at Eliza from the ground below. “So get rid of it, missy!”

The sun disappeared behind a cloud, the air turning cold, and the fairground’s lights flickered on and off. As Eliza stared at the poltergeist, wondering how she was responsible, the smoke started to take shape. She saw it curl into a ball, then expand into an oval. Two arms grew from its sides, then two legs. Finally a neck, a head… and a face. Eliza’s face. Her double was blurry, still cloudy like smoke, but it was her without a doubt. It was laughing.

Eliza’s heart thudded in her chest. She had to help her friends.

Taking her eyes off the poltergeist, she slid off the horse. When she looked back, it was gone. The red-headed girl had stopped squealing, and now she and Ethel were looking around, confused.

Everyone’s heads snapped to the opposite side of the merry-go-round when Elliot yelled, “It’th got my popcorn!” The poltergeist was dangling the popcorn box above Elliot’s head. The sailor boy couldn’t reach it no matter how high he jumped.

“Hey!” She shouted at the mischievous creature. “Leave them alone!”

Eliza felt her cheeks redden. All eyes were on her. The children, their parents, the top-hat man and the organ player… they were all waiting for her to save them from the pesky poltergeist, But she didn’t know how.

The body of smoke itself turned to her and bored its eyes -a reflection of Eliza’s eyes- into her own.

“Why? I’m having so much fun!” Its voice was high-pitched, like a naughty child, but still cast a layer of doom into the air.

“This isn’t fun! This is mean!” She couldn’t understand it. Fun was laughing with people, not at them. Fun was sharing popcorn, not stealing it.

“You’re just a goody two-shoes!” It guffawed.

In a gust of cold wind, the poltergeist started floating towards her, still holding Elliot’s popcorn. It opened its mouth wide, silently screaming as it got closer and closer. Inside its jaws was complete darkness, a black abyss. Eliza balled her fists, thinking she was going to be swallowed up and lost forever.

It was only inches away, all she could see was a grey blur. Eliza braced herself.

And nothing happened.

The poltergeist swept right past her, instead halting directly above the top-hat man. Eliza sighed with relief, resting a hand over her thumping chest. But she couldn’t relax for very long. The poltergeist tipped the box, covering the mortified man a shower of butter and popcorn. He squeezed his eyes and mouth shut, squealing as yellow paint dripped down his body from head to toe. The poltergeist laughed, cackling like thunder.

“You see? This is fun, and you can’t stop me!”

Eliza looked to her friend. “Ethel. What do I do?”

“It’s feeding off your fear, Eliza.” The girl in a ruffled collar spoke with such wisdom that Eliza wondered how old the painting was, just how much Ethel had experienced. “The poltergeist will do what it’s told, but only you can order it. You have to be brave.”

She had to be brave. Eliza gulped. It felt like she’d spent her whole life being scared. Scared of trying new things, scared of being the centre of attention, scared of running into ghosts, scared of talking to people... and now she was supposed to forget all that?

She looked at the poltergeist. It was like glancing in a mirror, except this reflection wasn’t really her at all. It was a bully and didn’t care about anyone or any consequences. The only thing Eliza envied about it was its bravery.

Yet surely you didn’t have to be a bad person to be brave?

The pesky creature narrowed its eyes, watching intently to see what action she would take.

Eliza stepped forward and raised her chin. “I want you to leave!”

“I shan’t!” It shook its head, wisps of smoke trailing its movements.

“You have to if I say it!”

“No I don’t! You’re too scared!” The poltergeist poked out its tongue. Eliza blushed, not with embarrassment but with a raging determination.

“No, I’m not!”

“You are!”

“I’m not!” She stamped her foot. Ethel’s hand rested on her shoulder and Eliza froze for just a second. This wasn’t the way to beat the boggart. Losing her temper wouldn’t solve anything.

Eliza breathed in, inhaling the familiar scent of popcorn. She listened to the heavy breaths of those around her, loud amongst the silence. She felt the breeze on her skin, felt the comforting touch of her friend. Eliza smiled. Then she addressed the creature with a soft, gentle voice, the way she would want to be spoken to. Because really, she was speaking to herself.

“You’re right. I am scared. I’m scared of the matron and the older girls at Edelweiss’ and of being alone. I’m even scared of you.” Eliza thrust back her shoulders. ”But it’s okay to be scared, everyone gets afraid at some point- it’s how you know you’re alive. What matters is that you don’t let the fear stop you from living. Fear doesn’t control me. I control it.”

The poltergeist squirmed uneasily “No…” its voice was getting quieter, it was losing power, “no you don’t.” The mist around its eyes collected into water drops as if it was crying. “You can’t…” Eliza shook her head, the corner of her mouth curling into a grin.

“I can. I control you. And I order you to go away!”

When Eliza finished speaking, the poltergeist was gone. All that remained was a puddle of grey paint on the ground.

“You did it!” Ethel was the first to congratulate her. “I knew you could!”

Eliza beamed with pride as a mob quickly formed around the merry-go-round, all the grateful fair-goers wishing to thank her.

It was as if a switch had been flicked. The bubbly music returned, mixed with eager chatter and shouts. The sun returned, showering them all with light. Eliza smelt melting butter and followed her nose to see Elliot trailing after the popcorn vendor’s cart, back to his happy self. She lost sight of him when the red-headed girl appeared in front of her, smiling from ear to ear.

Everyone was grinning, a stark contrast to the frightened expressions of past.

Eliza let out a scream when she flew into the air- the top-hat man and picked her up. He placed her gently on his shoulder, and stepped off the merry-go-round, parading Eliza around the fairground. All who passed her waved or whooped or shouted thanks. Everyone was looking at her and Eliza was overjoyed that it didn’t bother her at all.

She spotted an older woman dressed in a black dress. She was holding back a boy who was trying to join the crowd. The woman’s grim expression reminded Eliza of the Matron, and her warning about poltergeists. She giggled. Really, the Matron should have warned the poltergeist about Eliza.

She froze for a moment, her memory triggered. Images of the ivy-clad mansion and its variety of inhabitants filled Eliza’s mind. She looked at the fairground -the colourful, joyous, perfect fairground- and reminded herself that it was all a painting. It wasn’t herreality. Eliza had a freshly made bed waiting for her in the fifth-floor dormitory. She had lessons to attend, letters to write, games to play, and friends to make.

She lifted the man’s top-hat and whispered into his ear, “Please, could you put me down?” He did as asked, and Eliza pushed back through the crowd that had gathered, nodding and smiling at her admirers. Ethel was standing with Elliot by the popcorn cart.

“Would you like a box?” The plump boy asked when she approached them. “I’ll get you one.”

“Thanks, Elliot. Maybe next time?”

He shrugged. “More for me.”

“Are you okay, Eliza?” Ethel grabbed her hands, steadying her. Eliza was shaking, and not with exhilaration of her recent victory, but with anticipation and a hint of impatience. The fairground was marvelous! She felt so happy and at peace, like the merry-go-round could go on and on and never lose its thrill. It was her wildest dream come true. But that was the problem. Eliza had found her courage, and now she wanted to experience reality.

“I love it here, truly I do....”

Ethel seemed to understand. She pulled her friend into a hug, and whispered, “But you’re ready to leave now?” Eliza nodded into her shoulder. They stayed there for a little while, arms wrapped lovingly around each other. Then Ethel pulled away.

“Okay. You just have to walk past the ticket booth, and you’ll come out at the other side of the canvas.” She laughed slightly, smiling. “But promise you’ll come back.”

Eliza squeezed her friend’s hands and said, “Of course I will.”

Farewelled by the cheers of the fair-goers, Eliza marched straight for the ticket booth. Then, in a whirlwind of white, she was sucked out of the painting.

The Matron was walking up the stairs just as Eliza reappeared on the cold, stone landing. When she came into the light of the woman’s gas-lamp, the Matron picked up her dress and quickened her pace. “I’ve been looking all over for you!” She hissed. “Why didn’t you return to bed when the bell rang?”

Eliza considered what to tell her interrogator. She couldn’t tell the truth, no one would believe her and she’d get in trouble for lying. Could she have been reading? No- she didn’t have a book on her. She didn’t have anything on her. “I was…” Eliza twiddled her fingers, trying to think of something. “I got lost.”

The Matron narrowed her eyes and placed the lamp on the floor. “Lost?” She snatched Eliza’s hand, revealing the yellow stain on her palm. “In the arts room, I suppose?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Eliza felt a warm tingle in her heart when she looked at the stain. It was a souvenir of her adventure.

She glanced behind her at the painting of the fairground. Eliza could smell the familiar scent of buttered popcorn, and imagined that one of the dark silhouettes was Elliot. She could hear the faint humming of amusement rides, and knew the red-headed girl was riding in a car.

Then she saw Ethel, who once again had pride of place at the foreground of the painting. A wide smile was plastered on her face, just as before. Except this time, her right hand was raised in the air, waving.

Eliza felt a pang of longing. She wanted to speak to Ethel, her best friend, right then and there. She wanted to thank her for pulling her out of the lonely darkness and into the painting, for helping her to blossom and become brave. But Eliza was in her own reality now, and there were things she had to do.

She felt a tug on her hand and turned to the Matron. The woman looked back and forth between Eliza and the painting, then the corner of her mouth twisted in a smile. When she spoke, her voice was no longer angry but soft and gentle.

“I did warn you about lurking in the dark, Miss Clairvoy. You can never tell what mischievous spirits are following you.”

Eliza’s head tilted to the side. Could the Matron know? Had she gone into a painting too? “Don’t worry,” Eliza said, “I dealt with it.”

The woman nodded and picked up the lamp. “Take this with you and hurry to your dormitory.” A little firmer. “Now.”

Eliza swivelled on her feet, the gas-lamp lighting up each step as she climbed to the fourth floor..

“Oh, and Miss Clairvoy!” The Matron called from below. “Edelweiss’ doesn’t have an art room. Don’t lie to me again!”

From behind the door of her dormitory, Eliza could hear the eleven older girls giggling together. She raised her fist, about to knock, and faltered. What would she say to them? Sorry for being so quiet? Sorry for being shy? Elliot’s words entered her mind, don’t be thorry. Eliza breathed in and rapped on the door.

“Come in!” They shouted in unison.

When she opened the door, Eliza saw that the beds were all empty. Her roommates were sprawled on the pink carpet, playing with each other’s hair and studying hands of playing cards.

“Oh!” The blonde girl with freckles jumped off the floor, and tip-toed through the crowd to Eliza. “You’ve arrived!” She produced an extra bundle of cards from her dressing coat pocket. “These are yours, umm… sorry, I can’t recall your name.”

Eliza smiled, feeling her cheeks redden, but it didn’t bother her. She was so thankful that the other girls had thought of her, even when she’d shied away from them. They were caring and kind, just like Ethel, Eliza knew they could become the best of friends too, just as Ethel had.

“Don’t be sorry.” She took the cards, smiled, then declared to her dormitory mates, “My name is Eliza. Eliza Jane Clairvoy. And I’m not a fortune teller.”

“Well thank goodness for that!” It was Ruby speaking, the girl who’d claimed the bunk above her. “You’d beat us all at cards for sure!”

Eliza joined her peers on the rug and spent the remainder of the evening talking to her new friends. They all had amazing stories to tell, of hiking in the alps, cruising in ships, catching butterflies and travelling in the country.

Apparently, they thought they’d spotted a poltergeist in one of the oak trees that afternoon, but it had only been a raven. Eliza grinned. She’d seen a real poltergeist, and defeated it as well! But that was her secret.

Maybe she’d tell them one day. About the fairground with its bright lights and rainbows; Its buttered popcorn and bubbly tunes; Its delightful visitors dressed in ruffled-collars and sailor outfits. She’d tell them how Ethel wore her hair in ringlets and had helped Eliza find her courage. Perhaps she’d even tell them about the poltergeist, because even though it was her secret, Eliza knew she could trust her friends. That’s what friends were for, after all.