“Yes.” The heavy red wine had a slight tang of ginger, smooth and fiery at the same time.
“This bottle comes from my family’s vineyards on the Loire, one of the 1910 vintage, their best year so far. They’ve always produced good wine, but I’m prejudiced, of course. I grew up drinking this stuff. One of my cousins, a dozen times removed, owns the vineyard now.”
“You’re French?”
“Half French, half Russian.” (What a surprise, with a name like Ivan.)
“Unusual.”
“The combination’s unlikely in this era, but Russia and France were allies then against England, their common enemy.”
“Nothing new there. I didn’t think you were from the Sixties.”
“I sometimes wish I was. A colourful decade, not like the dismal Fifties and the boring Eighties. In fact I dislike almost the whole of the twentieth century. The Sixties were the best bit and they only lasted ten years. The twentieth's not even my century. I was born in 1790 so I'm 218 next November. I don’t look it, do I?” He asked with a grin.
“Not a day over thirty.”
“As old as that?” Ivan sounded genuinely shocked.
“Thirty is a nice age. How old did you want to look?”
“Twenty-five. I thought I’d got it right.” He seemed doubtful. “Perhaps I’d better have another go.”
“No, don’t change anything. I like you the way you are. Twenty-five or thirty, you look good to me.” I suddenly realised what I’d said and rapidly changed the subject. “Tell me about your parents. How did they meet, coming from different countries?”
“My father was an attaché at the Russian Embassy in Paris. My mother came to Paris to be presented at court and they met at one of the balls. The marriage was considered suitable because they were from the same level of society and owned land. My mother was adventurous and she wanted to travel. They returned to Russia, as the Revolution broke out in France, so she never saw her home again. Maman always said she had been incredibly lucky. Two of her brothers went to the guillotine.”
“Nasty.”
“The silly fellows tried to take no notice of the whole thing. They found out, the hard way, it wouldn’t ignore them. My immediate family were safe enough, until Napoleon took the idea into his head to invade Russia. I was a cadet in a Hussar regiment then, young, foolish and ready for anything. We were ordered to burn down Moscow. I had fun, running along the streets, setting the buildings alight and dodging the French soldiers. They called us demons, because they couldn’t catch us.”
“How terrible, to burn your own city.”
“War is horrible. Fortunately, most people had already fled. They had orders to do so and we saw nobody around. Buildings are only bricks and wood and I managed to pay off a few old scores. I made sure I set light to houses of the people I didn’t like and not to those I did. Napoleon wanted to stay in Moscow for the winter, but we did such a good job he had to retreat. Most of his army died and unfortunately I died too. A sharpshooter got me in the end. Poetic justice, I suppose.”
What do you say to such a thing? I opted for the obvious. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Well, because you were killed.”
He shrugged and suddenly I saw the face of the ardent young man he had been then.
“I had a clean death. Better than a lingering illness, with no cure and nothing to stop the pain. Many died like that in those days.” He sipped his wine and gazed up at the stars. “Funny,” he continued, “Napoleon was called the ‘Great Ogre’ when I was alive, but he’s interesting to talk to. He plays war games and he’s the current Celestial Champion. Took on Montgomery at El Alamein in the final and won. Entertaining, since he didn’t know much about tanks and Monty had insider knowledge. I played against Napoleon once myself and got soundly beaten, but I’m a complete amateur compared with him, of course. Some of the other generals give him a good run for his money, but he won’t play against Wellington or Blucher. He says they beat him at Waterloo and they’re not having another chance.”
“I always admired Josephine. Is she as beautiful as they say?”
“Josephine is beautiful in a sultry sort of way, now she’s got her bad teeth fixed. She’s a different person, because she doesn’t need to depend on men for her living any more. She’s our head gardener. Her roses at Malmaison were famous in her lifetime, but they’re nothing to the flowers she has now. She’s a fascinating woman.”
“Do you know her well?” The admiration in his voice gave me an unexpected pang of jealousy.
“I met her in 1814 when she arrived.”
The pang came again. How odd. I must stop this – right now! Reminiscences contain hidden dangers, at least for me.
I began to talk about the job we’re sharing. Ivan’s been a Guardian several times before and understands what to do, in a laid-back way. He gave me lots of tips. I asked him why James needed his help at this particular moment, but he would not tell me.
“Conflict of interest, love. He’s got something important to do soon. He’s going to be brave and in the right for once in his life, which makes a pleasant change. Put it like this, you and I are working for the same thing at this moment. I’d tell you more, but you might inadvertently mess things up. If you don’t know, you’ll act naturally. It wouldn’t matter if your client was one of the other girls, but Gigi and James are involved and that makes a difference.”
“You’re telling me!” I giggled as certain sounds came floating up to us from the bedroom. My mind strayed. I wondered what it would be like making love with Ivan. I just had the chance to find out, but I blew it. Damn Michael. I never expected ghosts to have a love life, how strange.
“Were you ever in love?” I asked Ivan.
“Once, when I was young. She preferred someone older and richer than me. I became reckless after that. I thought she loved me, so I know what rejection's like. I didn’t live long enough to have other lovers on Earth, although I've had one or two since.”
“One or two hundred you mean.”
“Has Maude been talking about me behind my back?” He laughed.
“How did you guess?”
He was going to say something else, when beams of coloured light erupted out of the bedroom window. They broke into the illusion of our surroundings and stopped our conversation dead. “What’s that?” I cried out in alarm. I forgot about protocol, jumped to my feet and raced down the stairs before Ivan could stop me.
Gigi lay curled up in James’ arms, fast asleep. Swirling images filled the room. She was walking along a white beach, splashing through the wavelets that swirled around her toes. Birds wheeled overhead and she was singing.
“She’s dreaming! At last, she’s dreaming.” I started to cry.
“Don’t waste any time, go and join her!” Ivan gave me a push and I shot into the picture, almost knocking her over. She looked startled and then she smiled happily at me.
“Hello, Molly.” She hugged me.
‘Molly? Who does she think I am?’ I wondered.
“Oh, here’s Sam as well.” She started to wave. Ivan came walking towards us, wearing a beach shirt and cut off jeans. He even looks super like that. I hate him!
“Hi Sam, I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“Why not?” he asked, kissing her on the cheek. Yes, I'm jealous! I admit it.
“I thought you’d gone to America.”
“I’m back.”
“Just like old times, the three of us together.” She threw her arms around us. “I’d forgotten how beautiful this place is and how much I miss you both.”
“Was London as exciting as you thought?” Ivan asked her. His voice sounded cautious.
“Wonderful. I love being there, the music, the clothes and the crowds. Sometimes I miss this beach, though, and the warm sea and my friends.”
“When are you coming back to us?” I ventured.
“Not yet. I will one day. One day, some day, sometime never,” she chanted. �
��Although it won’t be the same for us any more.” She sounded sad. “We're changing.”
“We’re growing up,” I said.
“We'll never be alone, just the three of us, again.”
“Do you want to be?” Ivan asked.
“Sometimes. It’s scary, growing up,” she replied.
“We must, whether we like to or not.”
The scene started to blur around us, the palms and the waves faded, and other images became sharper. It was time for us to go.
“We’ll always be here, waiting for you when you come.” Ivan kissed her goodbye. “All you need to do is remember.”
“Whenever you want us,” I murmured.
Ivan took my hand. We left her, standing alone, staring at the restless ocean. James’ cold, dark room made me shiver when we returned. Ivan wrapped comforting arms around me, holding me close.
“So now you know,” he whispered.
I nodded. “She dreams after making love.”
“She accepts you as her friend Molly. You will be able to enter her dreams now...”
“...if I pick the right time to do so.”
Ivan held out his hand to me and we went out of the room together. Dawn was breaking and the long night was over. Soon Gigi would have to go home and I had to go with her. I felt sorry and glad at the same time. So much had been accomplished tonight, but I couldn’t help wondering - had I lost my chance with Ivan forever? I hoped not.
8th October 1967, Sunday evening, London.
Jane went to visit her parents this weekend, without Tommy. We all thought this was a mistake and Leilani was worried.
“I can’t make her change her mind,” she told us before they left. “I’m trying, but I’m not getting through to her. If they could meet him, they’d realise he’s a nice lad, underneath all the hair, but she’s afraid his appearance will put them off.”
“It might, if her father’s as bad as she says.”
“He can be. If he sees Tommy in the flesh he might change his mind.”
“Don’t be so soft, cobber. One look at him would be more than enough.”
“I suppose.” Leilani frowned.
“Why is she going home?” I asked.
“To tell them she’s engaged. Keep your fingers crossed nothing awful happens.”
They were back far sooner than anyone expected. Jane was in a terrible state and Leilani wasn’t much better. Empathising with your client’s emotions is a problem for Guardians. You can't be objective and professional. Often it doesn’t matter but you need to keep control, though, to act correctly when the right time comes. Fortunately food helps. Maude fed Leilani with chocolate and cream cakes. We sat in the background and listened to Jane’s tale of woe.
At first, Jane cried so much she could hardly speak. Adele opened a bottle of gin and made her drink a large tot. Jane choked, but forced the liquid down. Her story came pouring out.
She had been both happy and apprehensive, going home to tell her parents she was getting married. Tommy went to the station with her. He kept saying he wanted to come too, but she said no. She thought she should break the news herself and get them used to the idea, before they met him. She isn't usually stubborn, but, this time, she felt certain she was right.
Familiar places began flashing past, making her realise how much she missed the countryside where she had grown up. She hasn’t been home for a while. Her parents met her and, at first, everything went well. Her mother had made her favourite dishes for tea and they had a lovely time catching up on all the gossip. When everything had been cleared away, Jane took a deep breath and began to tell them the real reason she had come home. Her mother clapped her hands and kissed her, but her father was more reserved.
“Who is he?” he asked. Jane described Tommy in lyrical terms, saying he was a good worker and lived in a flat in Islington. “But what does he do?” her father persisted.
Jane had considered lying, but her parents had always seen right through her lies. So she said, “He has two jobs...” She winced as her father frowned, then she ploughed on. “...he’s a builder and he plays music.”
“He’s not one of these long-haired louts with a guitar is he?”
“Does it matter what he looks like? He loves me and I love him. We’re getting married.”
“You’re not twenty-one. You still need our consent,” Mr. Jackson pointed out.
“Joseph, don’t you think we should meet Tommy first? He must be a nice lad...”
“Do you really want our daughter to marry someone without a future, who will drag her into all sorts of trouble?”
Everything went quiet.
“I think I’d better go.” Jane stood up quickly.
“But you’ve only just got here!” her mother wailed, bursting into tears.
“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt either of you, but please understand this. On the day I turn twenty-one I’m going to marry Tommy, with or without your consent.”
She turned on her heel and went out into the hall. She had a glimpse of her mother starting to follow her, but Mr. Jackson held her back. Jane picked up her case and fled. She sobbed all the way to London. The other passengers kept staring at her and she tried to avoid their eyes.
“No one even asked me what was wrong. They turned away from me as if I had the plague or something.”
“They didn’t want to get involved. I’ve always thought the Good Samaritan was a myth,” Adele said tartly.
“Dad was so angry and Mum was upset. I didn’t know they were such snobs. I’ve had all sorts of friends and they never objected before.”
“Getting married is different.”
“Tommy’s not unemployed and he’s not stupid, even if he doesn’t work in a bank like Dad."
“That’s not the point. It’s a class thing. You are middle class, Tommy isn’t. That makes a difference to people such as your parents.”
“At least his face is white,” Gigi said. “He could have been half-caste like me. That’s one problem you don’t have to deal with.” A sudden silence fell.
“What?” She stared at them.
“I suppose you are,” Jane said slowly. “I’ve never thought about it. You’re just ‘Gigi’ to me.”
“Not everyone’s tolerant. In Antigua, I'm not dark enough and in Norway I stand out like a sore thumb. Neither of my parents bothered about that little problem. Skin colour didn't matter to them, but it does to the rest of the world. I never fitted in at school, so I skived. I used to go down to the beach, to avoid the other children, until one day Mum caught me. One of the teachers tipped her off and we had a huge row. I think Mum wanted me to go to university and into some profession, but they told her I had no chance. She got me a job with her hairdresser. Fortunately I liked hairdressing and London’s marvellous because no one cares what colour I am.”
“How did you come to be here, in the first place?” Jane had always been curious.
“I went to a family wedding in Oslo. Mum didn’t go, because my brother was in the middle of his exams. I stopped off in London and spotted a job advert in the salon window. I wanted to stay for a bit longer and Mum agreed. I think she was pleased for me to be away. She says I’m a bad influence on my brother and she might even be right.”
“She’s wrong.” Jane gave her a hug.
“What did Tommy say when you told him about the row?” Adele asked, returning to the subject.
“He’s angry because I’m upset. He wanted to ask my father for permission to marry me. Now he thinks he should confront my parents, tell them he loves me and will always take care of me.”
“Why don’t you let him?”
“It’ll only make things worse. Dad’s usually a kind man but, once he makes his mind up about something, it takes a lot to change him. I don’t want any more trouble at the moment!”
“What does Tommy say?”
“He thinks we should give them time to get used to the idea and then try again. He knows I want Mum to come to my we
dding. We planned the whole thing when I was a little girl. She’d be so hurt if she wasn’t there and I love her and I’m her only child. We’ve decided to postpone the wedding for a few months and let things simmer down.”
Adele and Gigi exchanged looks. Neither of them thought that was a very good idea, but they didn’t say anything.
“Let’s have another drink and go to bed.” Adele poured more gin. Jane tried to refuse.
“Not for me,” she said.
“You’ll be crying all night. Drink this and sleep. Tomorrow we’ll be able to think about what to do. We’ll both help you if you want us to. Three heads are always better than one.”
“Or even six!” Maude whispered to me.
Jane went to clean her teeth. As soon as she was out of the room, Gigi said, “You’re a fine one to talk. Have you done anything about Ralph yet?”
Adele smiled. “As a matter of fact I have. I signed on for overtime at work and opened a Post Office Savings Account. I also told Ralph I won’t be seeing him on Thursdays, which is the day my firm works late.”
“How did he take the news?”
“He didn’t say much at all. I'm not sure whether to be pleased or sorry. Hush now, she’s coming back. I’ll tell you later.”
8th October 1967, Sunday night, London.
“Well, I made a right mess,” Leilani sounded rueful. “I knew Jane was making a mistake to go home alone.”
“You couldn’t help it.” Maude tried to reassure her. “She wasn’t listening to you.”
“Her parents sound like real old battleaxes to me,” I murmured, but Leilani shook her head.
“They’re not. Their Guardians explained everything to me. Fred and Fifi understand where Mr. and Mrs. Jackson are coming from. Their prejudices aren't unusual in this era, even though we think they should be more tolerant. They are concerned for Jane’s welfare and they don’t want to see her poor or in distress. Fred said they were having trouble influencing them. Jane isn’t the only one who’s not responding. The good news is that all the Guardians are singing from the same hymn sheet, if you forgive the phrase.” Leilani paused to sip her wine. “The class system is going to last for a long time, even if it becomes more subtle in the future.”
Ghost Diaries 1_Gigi's Guardian_Paranormal Romance Page 10