Edward’s eyes flickered open slowly from their long night’s sleep to darkness. A flash of panic darted through his small body for just a moment until realising that, no, he was not blind. It was still night. He sat up slowly in the massively over-sized bed the housekeeper had lovingly assigned to him after seeing his stunted, skinny frame standing there on the railway platform amongst the crowds of children, only a few of many in the exodus from war torn London. The memory of the housekeeper’s words echoed through his mind; ‘My God boy, what do they feed you in the city? No matter, we’ll fatten you up in no time, rations or no.’

    Groggy from his dreaming, he shifted beneath the covers, every moment making a noise painfully loud in the dead silence of the witching-hour. Or was it dead silence? Something had woken him…but what? Edward sat still for a moment, ears alert to pick out the slightest sound, eyes useless roving in the impenetrable darkness. He listened for a while, quietly expectant and alert…and there! There it was; the faintest of sounds echoing from within the depths of the manor house, reverberating across ancient walls and corridors.  Edward’s mouth fell open when he realised what the sound was. He couldn’t believe it. Someone was playing his uncle’s grand piano. He could hear it now, the soft notes, each separate and distinctive, harmonising to create beautiful tones carried faintly to him in the dull air of the old house from afar. Listening, for some reason, he was reminded of nights spent listening out for the far off whine of sirens in the city, listening fervently for the hum of danger; but there were no sirens here, only melodies. 

    There had been an air of mystery tied up with the piano from the day he arrived.  Upon introduction to his great uncle, who shared Edward’s slight frame (if not his youth), the housekeeper had whispered in his ear, ‘Our house is your house now dear, but one thing…don’t touch your uncle’s piano. He gets very funny about that.’ The whisper had tickled the back of his neck and offered no explanation as to why he shouldn’t touch the piano exactly, but in any case, his uncle kept it locked tightly shut, keeping the key in his breast pocket closest to his heart. An instrument that cannot be played is little more than furniture, so Edward quickly lost interest; and yet…someone was playing it. Who could be playing the forbidden piano in the dead of night? Certainly not his uncle…Edward had seen him go to bed.

       Curiosity awakened, Edward slipped as quietly as he could onto the floor, wincing slightly at the feel of cold floorboards on his bare feet. He tiptoed across the room, fumbling blindly for the dressing gown hung across the bed’s railings, and the candle on the bedside table. He felt sneaky, naughty even, as if he was misbehaving. Technically he wasn’t, he told himself. He was just going to investigate. His nerves were tingling with a potent mixture of fear and curiosity, both emotions wrestling to win over the other. Slipping the gown over his skeletal body, clothed only by thin cotton pyjamas, he reached for the matches in his pocket, and with a crack and a hiss, the candle was lit. His eyes screwed tightly shut in response to the sudden burst of dazzling light as it cut through the heavy gloom. The warmth on his face was instant, and the light revealed to him his surroundings, the edges cloaked in grey. Holding the candle out before like a beacon, hand quivering, he moved to the door, pushing it ajar. He quickly stopped. There was silence. His heart sank. It was too late, the mystery piano player was gone, he thought. But then, there it was again, enchantingly inexplicable. Slowly, he slipped through the door out into the dark foreboding corridors beyond.

     He crept down the corridors like a thief in the night, listening past the slight sounds of the sleeping house for the faint music. Edward couldn’t understand why no one else had noticed it. The flickering candle sent orange and red glow dancing across the walls, as if accompanying the dulcet notes of the song, with its sad undertones and octaves; it was hauntingly beautiful. But this was lost on Edward, who had completely lost himself in his exploration. Not knowing really where he was going, he tiptoed down one corridor and the next until finally he reached the piano room. It was ahead of him, only a short distance across the hall. Heart racing, and skin prickling, he moved cautiously towards the door, from behind which was erupting the most wonderful music he had ever heard, no longer faint as if hearing music in a dream, but now very real, and almost tangible. The door to the music room had been left only the slightest bit ajar, and raising the candle, he moved lightly and crouched to look through the crack between the wall and the door.

    His eyes widened, and became completely round; his mouth fell open and a trickle of cold sweat ran unpleasantly down his back. He saw the music maker; a girl, as young as him, and one he didn’t recognize. She was as pretty as the music she played, if not more, with long curled hair falling about her shoulders. She was pale, far paler than Edward had ever seen a person; there was something unreal about her. Her fingers moved delicately, easy over the piano keys, as if she were barely touching them at all…A soft smile played about her lips, as if for one moment, she was truly happy; and then she stopped playing. Edward’s entire body froze. She had seen him. Her doll-like features turned towards him, and for a second, she seemed ageless. His heart seemed to skip countless beats in the second she looked at him, before her smile widened, and Edward’s candle flickered and went out.

    The sudden silence rang in the air, and Edward remained entirely still, save for the shivers of exhilaration that racked through his entire body. Quaking uncontrollably, and inexplicably freezing cold, he relit the candle after a few failed attempts, breathing a sigh of relief as the small flame sprang into brilliant life. The light shone past the door illuminating the piano; it was closed, locked as it always was. And the girl was gone.

   Edward stood up slowly, the shock he had felt slowly ebbing away. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and jumping, he cried out. He whipped around to see the housekeeper’s old and kindly face

‘There now! What’s wrong? You like you’ve just seen a spirit!’

Steadying his breath, Edward looked at her incredulously. She didn’t know how right she was.