The stain that came back

Mrs Nair looked at the stain for three seconds. Then she went to the kitchen and came back with a bottle of Super Clean stain remover.

"Probably old paint," she said, and cleaned it in two minutes.

The next morning, the stain was back. Mrs Nair cleaned it again. On the third morning it was back again, as if it was indelible and could never be washed away. Mrs Nair stayed pragmatic. She simply bought a bigger bottle.

Under the roof, the ghost of Towkay Chan was very unhappy. For a hundred years, his stain had frightened everyone. Now a woman in rubber gloves was wiping it up like spilled coffee.

On Friday night he tried his best trick. He made his face pale and gruesome, with empty eyes and blood on his chin, and moved down the stairs with a long shriek, a high, terrible scream. He looked menacing, as if he wanted to hurt someone.

Mr Nair opened his bedroom door. He was unperturbed, as calm as if ghosts visited every night.

"Excuse me," he said, and held out a small bottle. "Your chains are very noisy. This oil will help. Some of us have work tomorrow."

The ghost stared at the bottle in dismay. Nobody had ever offered him oil before. Then two pillows hit him in the face. The twins, no longer oblivious, were laughing at the top of the stairs.

With a feeble cry, weak and small, the ghost disappeared into the wall.