Cherry
Emily was glad to be heading to the countryside with her friend. Especially since Daisy had told her about old Aunt Agatha, the neighbour who paid well for help around the farm.
“Shes got a cherry orchard. Huge! Aunt Agatha cant climb the trees herself, so she pays for the harvest,” Daisy explained eagerly. “But shes odd. Talks to herself, always muttering. The local kids are scared of her.”
“Maybe we shouldnt go?” Emily asked cautiously.
“Oh, shes just a bit touched,” Daisy went on. “Ive never really spoken to her. Ill offer help, climb a tree with a crate, do my job, take the money, and leave. Whats there to fear? She doesnt even have a dog.”
*****
The girls arrived early in the morning. Daisys grandmother welcomed them warmly.
“Well, girls, whats the plan today?”
“First thing, Aunt Agathas. Her cherries are nearly dragging on the groundthey need picking,” Daisy reasoned. “And well earn some cash!”
“Oh, why bother with that mad old bat?” Granny waved a hand dismissively.
Emily and Daisy approached Aunt Agathas cottage. The cherry branches sagged under the weight of gleaming crimson fruit, a heavy burden for the trees.
“Aunt Agatha, hello! Its Daisyremember me? Need any help?” Daisy called as she spotted the woman behind the house.
Aunt Agatha muttered under her breath:
“Should just keep quiet… Whats the use… Im not listening to you anyway…” Then she shuffled to the gate. “Hello, girls. Glad youre here! See how the cherries are struggling? They need picking.”
She handed them plastic crates and led them to the orchard.
For an hour, the girls chatted cheerfully as they worked. Emily kept glancing at Aunt Agatha, busy in the vegetable patch. The woman would occasionally clamp her dirty hands over her ears and shake her head.
“Shut up, you daft thing!” the girls heard her snap. “Youre nothing! You were nothing, youll stay nothing!”
Emily strained to hear more, leaning further into the leaves. She stretched, stretchedthen her foot slipped from the branch. With a thud, she tumbled down, landing hard, her arm scraped raw.
“Aunt Agatha!” Daisy shouted. “Do you have a first-aid kit? Emily fellshes hurt!”
While the flustered woman ran for antiseptic and bandages, Emily sat dazed beneath the tree. A bright red droplet slid from her elbow onto the earth.
“Oof, thats a nasty scrape,” Daisy fussed. “Well need to clean it properlydont want an infection.”
Aunt Agatha helped patch her up, and the girls left, promising to return tomorrow. As they reached the gate, Emily heard a strange voice:
“I wont leave you. Ill stay here, close. Always. Always!”
She spun around. Who had spoken? Not Daisy. And the only others nearby were her and Aunt Agatha. Had she imagined it?
“Well, suit yourself. Makes no difference to me,” the old woman grumbled, as if shed heard it too.
*****
The next day, they returned to work. But now, Emily kept hearing that eerie voicealways addressing Aunt Agatha, who replied as if in conversation.
“Youll pay for this. Everyone will know!”
“Wholl know? Whod believe you, you stupid girl?” the woman retorted to the empty air.
“Daisy, do you hear that? That voiceits talking to Aunt Agatha,” Emily whispered.
“What voice? Shes just talking to herself,” Daisy said, tapping her temple.
“Can you hear me?” Now the voice spoke to Emily. “Talk to me.”
“Whos there?” Emily called, peering through the leaves.
“Emily, stop scaring me,” Daisy said sternly.
“You hear meyou hear me!” The voice hissed again.
Emily, her crate full, climbed down. She looked around, frightened.
“Look closely!” The whisper brushed her ear.
Panicked, Emilys vision blurred with tears. Thenshe saw her. A translucent girl, suddenly there, her sad eyes brimming, her face and hands smeared with dirt.
“You see me,” the girl murmured, smiling faintly.
Emily clapped a hand over her mouth. Cherry juice stained her cheeks like blood.
“She sees! She sees!” The girls face twisted with rage. “She sees! She hears!”
Aunt Agatha came running at the noise, her face pale.
“Shell find outnow everyone will!” the girl shrieked, circling the woman.
“Shut your gob! And you twoclear off!” Aunt Agatha spat. “Dont come back!”
She chased them out.
“Come againplease!” the ghostly girl begged under the tree. “Ill tell you everything.”
Baffled, the friends stood by the gate as Aunt Agatha ranted, waving her arms. Daisy thought she was raving at the silent cherry tree. But Emily saw the girl, weeping into her hands.
*****
That night, Emily slipped out. Daisy, awake, followed.
At the orchard, the moon lit the cherries like tiny stars. The ghost stood waiting.
“You came. Youll know the truth.” She pressed a hand to Emilys forehead
And Emily was elsewhere, in another time, in the girls body.
She was Iris, alive and laughing, picking cherries. Aunt Agatha called from the garden:
“Last crate, Iris. Its getting dark.”
Iris climbed down, sticky with juice. She needed the moneyshed run from the care home, lived rough. Meeting Aunt Agatha at the train station had been luck. The woman promised good pay for the harvest.
But the crumpled note Aunt Agatha gave her was pitiful.
“Thats it? I worked all day!”
“Sell the fruit first, then youll get more,” Aunt Agatha said coldly. “Come back next week.”
“You said I could stay, help sell”
“I changed my mind. Go, or Ill call the police!”
Iris, used to fighting, grabbed a stick. Aunt Agatha swung her spade in panic
The blow landed. Iris fell beneath the cherry tree, hidden by dusk.
By morning, only freshly turned earth hinted at the crime.
*****
Emily gasped back to the present. Aunt Agatha, unwilling murderer. Iris, trapped forever.
A light flicked on. Emily yanked Daisy away, fleeing into the night.
*****
The next morning, Emily dialled the police.
“I have information about a missing person. I was helping in the garden… dug too deep.”
Forensics worked for days. Gawkers lingered, hungry for gossip.
Iris had been missing for over a decade.
Her ghost had tormented Aunt Agatha, demanding confession. Now, at last, she could rest.
