"Where's Spooky?"

I spent last night sitting in the shed of a large three-bedroom semi-detacthed house in Kent.
I was with Clive, the owner of the house, his daughter Megan and their dog, Dave.

I arrived at their charming home at some time in the afternoon and we soon got down to business.
They told me all about their haunting, and how it had started one late November night last year.

Apparently, "Spooky" is a spirit who has yet to find a host.
He came to this house last year, and spent two weeks trapped in Clive's wine rack before anyone noticed there was something odd going on.
He is, actually, very harmless. He even helped the son of the family, Robin, win his end-of-term poetry reading. I don't quite understand how, but it had something to do with a gust of wind.
The only person he doesn't seem to agree with is the mum, Mum (I haven't heard her name yet, and I was a little too shy to ask). He appeared at the end of January in the toilet bowl just as she went to use it and... well, you can guess the rest.

Anyway, he seems harmless. They had, infact, started to treat him as another pet. Dave the dog was a little put out at first but even he has warmed to Spooky's cold undead charms.

The reason I had been called here was because they hadn't seen or heard from the little guy in over a week.
Previously, he had been seen by at least one member of the family on a daily basis.
So, his sudden absence was seen as suspicious.

I spent the rest of the afternoon using my hi-tec ghost hunting tools (bought from a mail order firm on a "pay now, pay more later" basis) to survey the house. Unfortunatley, I found no sign of Spooky or anything else other-worldly.

So, Clive and the others sat with me in the shed because they knew that Spooky always emerged first from a hole in the bottom of the garden.
We sat all night, sipping a weak lemony drink, and waited.
And... nothing.

Come morning, there was only one question to be asked;
Where's Spooky?