The Ghost's Call, page 8
He reached over and hooked his arm into mine. Goosebumps went up my arms, and not just because of the cold. ‘I love that you’re doing this to protect animals.’
‘Of course. It isn’t their fault. And no one else knows what’s going on except Mum and whoever those two guys are. Someone has to do something. And the longer we wait, the worse it’ll get.’
‘That’s why I’m here helping you.’ He nudged me, smiling. Butterflies filled my stomach so badly I had to look away from him. I hadn’t expected him to want anything to do with my ghost life, but he was turning out to be more supportive than Mum.
Mum had spent years running away from her powers, meaning that I missed out, too. Whenever I asked her, she fobbed me off, saying she’d teach me another day. That day never came.
So, it was time I started doing things myself. I was an adult and it was time she started treating me like one.
Josh and I carried on walking, his hand still in mine. I had to distract myself from it because if I didn’t, my legs would turn to jelly. Why did he have that effect on me? I hated myself for it, but I loved being so close to him.
‘What about if we put the first one in a tree near the library, then another one at the bottom of town, by the junction?’ I said.
‘The market is near the library. That should pick up a lot of people,’ he agreed.
‘If we get it at the right angle, we should be able to pick up at least some of the car park opposite, too.’
‘Perfect.’
My heart pounded in my chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was from being close to Josh or doing something risky. What if we got caught? What would people say? Would we get arrested?
The more I thought about Josh’s excuse that we were just looking for ghosts, the more I realised that the truth was the best thing to tell anyone who asked us what we were doing. Either they wouldn’t believe us, or they’d think we were so crazy they’d leave us alone. It worked.
And for the record, I wasn’t crazy.
I could just see – and talk to – ghosts.
See? Crazy.
The pedestrianised marketplace was made out of beige slabs, decorated with metal plaques to commemorate the town’s heritage. Some had Nottinghamshire phrases on like ‘cheers me duck’, some had poems by Lord Byron on, and others had pictures from the mines on.
Trees were peppered around the area, with metal fencing covering them to stop people from getting too close. Not that it was going to stop us, but it wasn’t like we wanted to harm the trees. We were trying to help the local community. That’s what I kept telling myself, anyway.
The ground was littered with red and gold leaves, wet and sparkling in the light from the street lamps. It gave everything an eerie glow, making what we were doing that much more sinister.
Josh pointed to a spot about seven foot up on the tree. He could reach it; I could barely see it. ‘What about here?’
‘Can we take it down if we don’t like it?’
‘Only if we don’t want to secure it properly,’ he said.
‘Damn. OK, hold it where you were thinking and I’ll open the app.’
He lifted his arm as high as it would go and went onto his tip toes. It was a funny sight, him standing there and pinching something so tiny it was hard to see. He glanced over his shoulder. ‘You see it yet?’
‘It’s still loading.’
‘My arm hurts! You really need a new phone.’
‘You really need a new arm.’
He stuck his tongue out at me.
The app loaded and I glanced down at my phone. There wasn’t much to see; there was no one about, human or otherworldly, so everything was varying shades of yellow, with the occasional hint of orange. ‘Can you rotate it a little to the left?’
He did as I instructed.
‘There!’
From that angle, the camera picked up the opening of the graveyard and most of the car park, giving us a good vantage point for two of the main points of entry into the town centre.
Josh attached the camera to the tree, then stretched his arm in front of him and massaged it. ‘I hadn’t expected to get a workout tonight, too.’
I massaged his arm, trying to release some of the tension. ‘This was your idea, let’s not forget that.’
‘You saying my pain is my fault?’
‘Yes, yes I am.’
*
We attached another camera to a lamppost at the opposite end of the town centre – which was basically just one long street – and one near the town’s big car park. The last one picked up a ghost dog, scurrying across the car park, but too far away to notice us. I couldn’t help but wonder what’d happened to him or her. The poor thing must’ve been so lost without its owner.
For me, that was the worst part of being able to see ghosts: knowing that something had gone wrong with that person or animal, and not being in a position to help them. I could try, sure, but who’d take a seventeen-year-old stranger who knocked on their door and said they have a message from a deceased friend or relative seriously? People struggled to believe Mum. Usually they slammed the door in her face the first time. They weren’t going to believe a teenager with black hair, pale skin, and ripped jeans.
Not to mention I didn’t even know how to go about it. ‘Hi, I have a message from the Other Side for you. No, you can’t speak to them, but I can pass a message on.’ Yeah, I could see that going down great.
When Josh and I got home, it was almost two in the morning. Would our parents notice we’d snuck out? Tilly might give me away, but it would be worth it. Mum would understand. Once she’d calmed down.
I leaned into Josh so that I could whisper into his ear without waking the neighbours. ‘Thanks for your help tonight.’
He ruffled my hair. I swatted him away, grabbing his hands and pulling them to me. He laughed, resting his forehead against mine. ‘Any time.’ He ruffled my hair again, then walked off, leaving my heart fluttering.
Time to face Mum and Tilly. Who’d wake up and tell me off first?
Tilly bounded down the stairs as I unlocked the front door. She jumped up, her claws scratching my legs through my jeans. I bit my tongue, trying not to yelp. For a small dog, she had a lot of power behind her claws. It didn’t help that my legs were frozen from the cold, either.
I picked her up, letting her shower me in westie kisses in the hopes that she’d stay quiet and not give me away. She didn’t always bark when we got home. If I gave her what she wanted, she’d be less likely to.
Still wearing my coat, I carried her into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa.
The light turned on. I jumped, letting go of Tilly. She climbed on me anyway, looking in the direction of the armchair. Where Mum was sitting. Busted.
11
Niamh
‘Please explain to me why you just got in at two in the morning, and your cheeks look like you’ve just run a marathon in the freezing cold!’
What had Edie been thinking, staying out so late?
‘It’s not what it looks like, I swear,’ said Edie.
‘Tell me what it looks like,’ I said through gritted teeth. She and Josh were hanging out after college, which was a regular thing, so I let it go. I’d been so tired I’d gone to bed early, but when I’d woken at midnight and found her bed empty, I’d started to panic. She hadn’t answered her phone, either. I’d almost sent out a search party, but decided to wait. I was glad I had.
‘We were setting up cameras,’ said Edie.
I narrowed my eyes. She’d been doing what? What weird stuff was she getting into? ‘Cameras for what?’
After adjusting the wriggling dog in her arms, Edie went into her coat pocket and took her phone out. She passed it to me. ‘They’re infrared cameras. They’ll help us identify any ghost activity in the area.’
I pursed my lips. That was smart. But she knew I didn’t want anything to do with ghosts. And, by association, I didn’t want her to have anything to do with ghosts. It was too dangerous.
‘Edie,’ I said.
‘Come on, Mum. No one else is going to do anything about this. Why can’t we?’
‘It’s dangerous, that’s why.’
Edie scoffed. ‘How would you know? You wouldn’t know danger if it jumped up and bit you.’
‘Edie!’ I stood up, rage boiling through my blood. ‘How dare you? You have no idea what I’ve been through. We live the life we do because I keep us safe.’
Edie stood up too, glaring at me. ‘No, Mum. We live the life we do because you’re scared.’ She stormed out of the room before I could shout anything after her.
I fell back onto the chair, fighting back tears. Edie was right. I hated that she knew she was, too. She thought she knew the whole story, but she didn’t. And the older she got, the harder it was to protect her from what had really happened.
Was it time to tell her? Was it time to treat her like an adult?
Sure, she was seventeen. Almost eighteen. But she was still my baby. Telling her what had really happened would ruin her. And me all over again.
I rested my head in my hands. Tilly jumped onto the chair and nudged my hands, licking my face as I started to cry. As I pulled her closer, she showered me in more of her sloppy kisses. At least the dog understood.
*
‘Am I a total cow, Mags? Should I just tell her?’ I leaned back on Maggie’s sofa, nursing my hot chocolate. Even with all the trimmings and made from melted chocolate, it wasn’t making me feel any better.
It had been almost twelve hours since Edie and Josh had come home late, and she still hadn’t spoken to me. Nothing as she got ready for college, when she left, and no texts while she was at college. The cold shoulder was the worst.
Maggie sat down beside me. Tilly jumped up and snuggled in between us, her head resting against my leg and her back legs by Maggie. She liked to be as close to us both as possible; she did the same with Edie. I loved how snuggly she was.
‘No, you’re not a cow. Edie’s being a teenager. You are in denial, though. You’ll have to tell her eventually. You know it’s inevitable, right?’
My shoulders slumped. I licked the cream off my hot chocolate. ‘Thing is, I don’t think it’ll put her off. It’ll probably just spur her on.’
‘But you can’t shelter her forever. She’s old enough to make her own mistakes.’
‘Stop being right,’ I grumbled.
Maggie turned to face me, resting her elbow on the back of the leather sofa. ‘You know I’m on your side, but Edie’s only going to resent you if you keep lying to her.’
‘It’s not a lie. It’s withholding the truth.’
Maggie snorted. ‘A lie of omission is still a lie. And did you, or did you not, tell her that Javi passed away in a car accident?’
‘I really wish I hadn’t told you that.’
‘Who else would you have told?’
‘Thank you for reminding me I don’t have any other friends.’
She grinned. ‘Look, my point is, it’s natural for Edie to want to know more about her birthright. She has no one else to teach her. If she doesn’t get guidance from you, she’s going to look elsewhere.’
‘Like where?’
‘I don’t know, but don’t you want to make sure she’s on the right path?’
‘The right path is no ghosts!’
Tilly jumped at my shouting. I rubbed her head. ‘Sorry, Tilly.’ Satisfied everything was fine, she curled back into a ball and returned to sleep.
‘That’s not an option and you know it. Just because she’s your daughter, that doesn’t mean you get to make all the rules. You have to find a way to meet her halfway, or you’ll push her away.’
‘Josh is so much easier,’ I grumbled.
Maggie shook her head. ‘You mean aside from encouraging Edie to go out in the middle of the night?’
‘Yeah. That was out of character for him.’
‘Not really. He’s trying to impress her.’
‘So he does like her,’ I said, laughing.
‘That’s up to them to figure out. It’s none of our business,’ said Maggie.
I sipped my hot chocolate, wishing it had all the answers. But, for once, my favourite drink wasn’t as comforting as usual.
‘I got lucky with Josh, but I don’t think I will be with Abigail,’ said Maggie.
I rested my hot chocolate on the arm of the sofa. ‘Why’d you say that?’
‘She’s already throwing diva tantrums aged five. What’s she going to be like at fifteen?’
‘Maybe we’ll be having a similar conversation about her in ten years’ time,’ I suggested.
‘There’ll be one key difference, though,’ said Maggie. ‘Mine won’t involve ghosts.’
12
Edie
‘Edie! Come in, dear,’ said Mrs Brightman with a big grin on her face. She seemed so happy to have company. I loved how cheerful she was, despite how much time she spent on her own. It made me want to spend more time with her.
I was worried people would take advantage of how kind – and alone – she was. Mum was fiercely protective of her, though. If someone hurt her, I was pretty sure Mum would hunt them down and beat them to a pulp with her hammer.
Ditching my homework, I’d gone over after college to spend some time with her. Mum was spending most of her evenings researching I had no idea what anyway, so it wasn’t like I was missing out on anything other than microwave meals and Tilly snuggles.
‘I’ve put the kettle on. I wasn’t sure how you take your tea, so didn’t want to make one for you.’ She closed the door behind me, then I wrapped her into a hug. She hugged me back.
‘Just milk and three sugars for me,’ I said.
‘Sweet tooth, I see. My kind of girl,’ she said.
She led me through her cosy living room and into the kitchen, where the kettle was boiling and baking ingredients and equipment were all laid out ready.
‘What are we making?’ I asked eagerly.
Most of the baking I’d done had been with Maggie, but I always felt like I was ruining time that should’ve been for Josh and Abigail. I loved Maggie, and I knew she didn’t mind me hanging out at theirs, but it should’ve been my family who taught me how to cook and bake. They’d never had time for things like that, though. Mum had always been too busy wrapped up in her own things, when Dad was alive he’d been awful in the kitchen, and my gran had been…well, Gran.
Mrs Brightman placed a cup of tea on the breakfast bar, beside the geriatric stand mixer.
’That thing looks ancient,’ I said, examining it. The bowl was a light blue plastic, while the mixer itself was white.
‘It’s probably older than you,’ she agreed. ‘What do you say we drink our tea then get started?’
‘Sounds like a plan to me.’
*
We talked about nothing in particular while drinking our teas, getting so carried away we almost forgot what I was there to do. I didn’t mind, though. Talking to her was fun. There was no pretence with her. I didn’t have to pretend to be normal, or happy, or any of that crap. I could just be me.
After a lull in our conversation, she broke the silence by asking: ‘Does your mother ever get lonely?’
‘Why would she get lonely?’ I asked, sipping my second mug of tea.
‘You know. Without a man around the house.’
I laughed so hard, I almost snorted tea out of my nose. As if my mum needed a guy around.
‘Why would she need a man around?’
Mrs Brightman flapped her arms as she spoke: ‘To keep her bed warm at night, of course!’
‘That’s why she got a dog.’
Mrs Brightman laughed. It was a bright, tingling laugh, one that lit up a room. It made me wonder what she would’ve been like when she was younger and more able to do things. A force of nature, I had no doubt.
‘As nice as Tilly is, I’m not sure she can help your mum with everything.’
Before I could reply, a figure floated down through the ceiling. I jumped, not having expected to see one at Mrs Brightman’s. I met his eye. Judging from the photo on the kitchen wall, he was her husband. ‘Sorry. Thought I saw a spider.’
‘How odd,’ said Mrs Brightman. ‘Your mother saw one when she was here the other day, too. Perhaps it was the same one.’
‘Perhaps indeed,’ I said, still looking at Mr Brightman. If he was haunting his wife, Mum had probably seen him, too. She could’ve warned me.
‘Do you mind if I use your toilet please?’
‘Of course not, dear. Top of the stairs. Can’t miss it.’
‘Thanks.’ I stood up, gesturing with my eyes for Mr Brightman to follow me.
He appeared over the bathtub as I locked the door. An old man, dressed in a hospital gown. What an outfit to die in. He had a kindly smile and a twinkle in his eye that I liked.
‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t think you’d be able to see me.’
‘Even though my mum can?’
‘I didn’t know you were her daughter. I mean, I knew you were visiting, but I didn’t know it was you at the door. Usually I hide when she has guests to give her some privacy, but she was laughing so much! Oh! Such a magical sound. I had to see why.’
‘She was laughing at me,’ I grumbled.
‘Oh?’
‘She thinks my mum needs to meet husband number three.’
‘Oh.’
‘Oh indeed. She’s just come out of a relationship with one—’ I almost swore, then changed my mind just in case he was part of the old generation who didn’t like it ‘–—idiot. Why does she need another?’
‘Indeed. I imagine she’s projecting. Treating your mother as a project, if you will.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘When she can’t deal with things, she tends to set her sights on fixing other people’s problems instead. Whether that person thinks they have a problem or not.’
‘I see. So it’s better to let her do her thing?’
He nodded. ‘Will your mum mind?’
