Ghost Diaries 1_Gigi's Guardian_Paranormal Romance

by Michele McGrath

  We cheered, giving each other high fives.

  “You did it, Leilani!”

  “We did it, together. I was so scared, I felt sure I wouldn’t be able to move when I had to. What if something had gone wrong?”

  “Nothing did.”

  “Thank heavens. I’d hate to do that every day. Far too nerve-wracking!”

  I totally agree with her. Can you imagine being a Guardian to a proper damsel in distress? Complete with a dragon, a real knight and no computer model to help you! I shudder to think.

  6th May 1968, Monday, London.

  We went to Oxford Street after work. Jane found a simple white silk mini-dress with a Peter Pan collar and no sleeves. A turquoise and yellow scarf ties beneath the collar, which gives a bit of colour. The dress suits Jane’s slim figure and shows off her legs.

  “I thought you’d want a long one,” Gigi said.

  “I do. This one’s for going away in,” said Jane, gazing at herself in a mirror. “What do you think?”

  “Suits you.”

  “You could bring out the colour of the scarf in your bouquet,” Gigi suggested.

  “Good idea. I want yellow roses anyway. I love them.”

  “There’s yellow in the scarf and you'll be able to wear the dress again.”

  “One down, one to go. Now we’ve got to find the long one. I need something demure to wear in church.”

  “I didn’t think you did ‘demure’!” Adele protested.

  Jane giggled. “The vicar doesn’t know that.”

  Unfortunately the second dress was a problem. Everything was either elaborate or too expensive. The girls’ feet were aching by the time they stopped for coffee at last.

  “I don’t think I’m going to find anything,” Jane cried in despair. “The dress I want doesn’t seem to exist.”

  “What style are you thinking of?”

  “I like simple things, not loads of frills and beads. My mother was married right after the war and they didn’t have much to choose from then. Her dress was a slip of white satin with long sleeves and a square neckline – very elegant.”

  “We’ve never seen anything like that all day. Pity you can’t wear her dress,” said Gigi.

  Jane suddenly sat up straight. “I wonder if she’d let me?”

  “Wear her dress, you mean?”

  “Yes. It’s hanging in her wardrobe at home. I’ve often touched the material, but never tried it on. Mum and I are almost the same shape and size, even now. Maybe she’d say 'yes'.”

  “If my daughter wanted to wear my wedding dress I’d be delighted. She'd realise you liked her taste as you obviously do. But would you want to look so old-fashioned?”

  “Fashion changes all the time. Whatever I choose, I’ll be old-fashioned in a few years anyway. My children might snigger at me but I never sniggered at my parents’ wedding picture. I don’t care about being in fashion. I like Mum’s dress. All the family gave her their clothing coupons, so she could buy the satin and my grandmother made it. What’s worrying me is: what if I damaged it in some way?”

  “That dress has been sitting in the wardrobe for years. Time to give it another outing."

  “If she says ‘no’, I can try to find something else. After today, though, I’m not sure if I have enough energy. I’ll ring her tonight.”

  “What a lovely idea,” Leilani said, “I think her mother will be delighted.”

  “I would be, if I had had a wedding dress fit to wear.” Maude giggled. “I was barefoot and wearing homespun. Can you imagine any of my descendants wanting to get married in an outfit like mine?”

  22nd May 1967, Wednesday, London.

  Gigi was sitting on the bed, holding a telegram in her hand and looking shattered when Adele walked in.

  “What wrong?” she asked. “Have you lost a shilling and found sixpence?"

  “Mom’s replied to my letter. She’s flying in from Antigua tonight. She wants me to meet her at the Savoy, tomorrow morning at ten. Here.” She handed the telegram to Adele. “What do you think?”

  Adele hesitated before she said carefully, “The wording is a bit cold.”

  Gigi nodded. “She’s going to be horrible.”

  “Do you want me to come with you? I’m getting good at being in my friends’ sticky situations.”

  “I would, but Mom wouldn’t appreciate an audience, so I’d better go alone. I’ll survive. We're used to rows; we had enough of them.”

  Despite her brave words, Gigi’s heart thumped as she knocked on the door of her mother’s room. I wanted to help her, but I couldn’t of course. Distractions don’t work in these sorts of situations and I knew something she didn’t. The interview wasn't going to be nearly as bad as she expected.

  “Come in.”

  Gigi came into the room. Her mother was sitting at a small table, writing a letter. She glanced up when Gigi entered and Gigi couldn’t think of a thing to say. All the usual greetings seemed inappropriate, so she said nothing and waited.

  “Good morning, Gigi,” her mother said at last, breaking the heavy silence.

  “Morning, Mom. Good journey?”

  “Considering I did not intend to come here, the journey was fine.”

  Seeing the lines of strain deepen on her mother’s face, Gigi’s resolve crumpled. She ran forward and fell on her knees. She put her head into Bertha’s lap. For a moment she was a naughty little girl again. “Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry to do this to you and Dad.”

  Neither of them moved until Gigi’s mother reached down a hand and gently stroked her hair. Gigi did not see Bertha’s face change, as she remembered the day when she told her own mother she was pregnant. She had laid her head in her mother’s lap as she sobbed out her story too. She had been unmarried at the time, but Knut was in love with her. They had married soon afterwards, although their baby had been stillborn. No one ever thought their marriage would work. It had, in a funny sort of way. The memory cooled Bertha’s temper now. She still felt angry and upset, yet she understood. How could she punish her daughter for the same sin she had committed herself?

  “You silly, silly girl. I thought you had grown up or I should never have let you stay on in London.”

  “I thought I’d grown up, too, Mom,” Gigi whispered, tears blinding her. “I loved James and I believed he loved me, I truly did.”

  “Tell me about him.” Gigi’s letter had been short and to the point. Bertha wanted to find out more. She listened carefully as Gigi poured out the whole tale.

  “What did he say when you told him about being pregnant?” she asked after the story ended.

  “He said the baby wasn't his and he did not want to be saddled with a child. He told me to get rid of it. I couldn’t do that.”

  “Why not, Gigi?”

  “Mom, this is my fault, I realise that, but I'd give the baby up before I’d kill it.”

  Bertha sighed. “Gigi, I must ask you this, could anyone else possibly be the father?”

  “Well…” Gigi hung her head. “A friend of mine called Finn…”

  “You’ve slept with him too?” Bertha interrupted.

  “After I had broken up with James.”

  “Gigi! You seem to have forgotten every principle I ever taught you.” Bertha looked horrified.

  “I’m not making excuses, Mom, but things are different here. No one thinks anything about having sex. It’s almost expected, so it’s difficult to refuse. I missed a couple of pills. I was sick and throwing up. I think that’s when I got pregnant.”

  “You are the most careless child…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Being sorry doesn’t help. We need to decide what to do next.”

  “I want to keep the baby, Mom, I don’t care about anything else as long as I can.”

  Bertha gazed at her thoughtfully. “I’d never ask you to have an abortion. It’s illegal for a start…”

  “Not here,” Gigi interrupted her. “A new law is coming in, so I could if I wanted to but I don’
t.”

  “Why not adoption?”

  “I’d be terrified something was happening to my baby if I wasn’t around. But adoption would be better than an abortion.”

  “You realise what will be said, if you come home to Antigua with a baby and unmarried?”

  “I can face the gossip.”

  “You won’t be the only one involved. Your father and I and your baby will all be affected. I caused a dreadful scandal when I married a white man. This one is sure to be worse. Your child will not only have parents from different races, but also ones who did not love each other enough to make him legitimate. People can be evil and the baby will bear the brunt of their spite.”

  “I wanted to marry James, if he had asked me before all this happened,” Gigi said in a small voice. “I loved him then, or thought I did.”

  “Not now?” Bertha caught Gigi's tone.

  “He lied to me and he doesn't want our baby.”

  “Would you still marry him, if I managed to sort things out between you?”

  “I'm not sure.”

  “One problem would be solved, even if you had to leave him later and come home.” Bertha sounded thoughtful.

  “I suppose so.”

  “What about the other boy?”

  “I couldn’t saddle him with James’ child.”

  “He might be the father,” Bertha suggested.

  “He isn’t, Mom. I’m sure James is the one.”

  “Let’s be clear on this, Gigi, If James asked you, you would agree?”

  Gigi nodded reluctantly. “Yes. I don’t want to, but I would for the baby’s sake and to save you and Dad any more trouble. He won’t though. We broke up ages ago. I only met him again to tell him I’m pregnant.”

  “Even so, he can’t just walk away from his responsibilities towards this child.”

  “He doesn’t think like that.”

  “He can be made to.”

  “How?”

  “I’ll talk with him and then we’ll see.” Bertha smiled for the first time. Her smile wasn't a pleasant one.

  Gigi felt a surge of relief at leaving her burdens in her mother’s capable hands, as she had done all her life. She realised how much she had relied on her mother. She had occasionally felt vulnerable in London, without her. She tried to put her thoughts into words. “You’re always getting me out of scrapes, Mom.”

  “I didn't think I needed to any more, but you manage to surprise me, don’t you? As a mother yourself, you’d better settle down and stop being so impulsive. You need to solve problems in future, not cause them.”

  “I’ll change. Truly I will.” Gigi threw her arms around her mother’s neck and hugged her. Bertha returned the embrace. “I didn’t realise what a good mother you are until now, Mom. I’ve given you so much trouble all my life.”

  Bertha sighed. “You don’t remember your great-grandmother, Joan. She stood by me when I married your father. White men didn’t marry black women in those days. The prejudice was awful, on both sides, but it made no difference to the two of us. We loved each other and we still do, although the first few years weren’t easy. Grandma Joan organised our wedding and sorted out the family. She told the neighbours to mind their own business and helped me all she could. She did a wonderful job. Your father and I have always been grateful to her. If I don’t stand by you, she’ll come back and haunt me.” She grinned.

  Gigi giggled. “We'd both be petrified.”

  “All she would do is put her arms round you and hug you. She adored you, her first great-grandchild.”

  “She sounds like quite a lady.”

  “I miss her, God rest her soul.”

  “The notes say Joan was a tearaway too, when she was young. She managed to conceal her foibles from all her descendants,” I told Maude and Leilani later on. “I’m going to make sure I meet her after this is over.”

  “I thought you expected Gigi and Bertha to have a terrible row?” Leilani said with surprise.

  “So did I,” added Maude. “You’ve got some strange ideas about rows. If you heard the ones I have with Eli, even now...”

  “Gigi definitely thought she was in for a bad time. Her instinctive reaction saved the day. Many years ago, Bertha did exactly the same thing to her own mother. History repeating itself. Bertha remembered and she’s never been a hypocrite, so she couldn't give Gigi a hard time.”

  “True. I’ll be interested to find out what Bertha does next,” said Maude.

  “She’s a capable woman, who knows how to get what she wants. She doesn’t expect to fail, once she’s set out to make something happen. I don’t think I’d like to be in James’ shoes at the moment.”

  “I thought she’d want Gigi to have an abortion,” murmured Leilani.

  “She couldn’t kill her own flesh and blood,” I explained.

  “I wonder what James will make of her?”Leilani speculated.

  “He’ll feel as if he has been run over by a steamroller. He deserves everything he gets.” I’m becoming too protective but he does! Score: Bertha 1, James 0.

  1st June 1968, Saturday, London.

  “James and I are getting married,” Gigi announced.

  “Do I say congratulations?” Adele asked incredulously.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What happened?” cried Jane. “I thought he said ‘no’?”

  “Mom talked to him. I don’t know what she said, but it obviously did the job. He rang me and apologised. Apparently, he was shocked and he blurted out the first words which came into his head. He's lying through his teeth. People don’t speak to you so coldly, even if they are taken aback. He told me he’s been miserable without me. Then he asked me to marry him.”

  “And you agreed?”

  Gigi nodded. “I promised Mom I would, for the baby’s sake. So I’m going to.”

  “I think you’re making a big mistake,” Adele said.

  “The alternative is worse, believe me. I grew up half-caste and my parents were married, so I wasn’t a bastard as well.”

  “Stay here.”

  “How can I without money? I won’t be able to work for months and I don't earn much anyway. I can't live on my wages and bring up a baby. Mom wouldn’t let me stay here alone if she was paying. She’d be scared I’d get into more trouble. Either I marry or I go back with her.”

  “And you prefer to get married?”Adele asked.

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “I'm not sure,” Jane murmured.

  “No,” said Adele, “at least, not to a liar with another girlfriend around. I’d grit my teeth and go home.”

  “You’ve never been to Antigua, so how can you possibly know?” Gigi rounded on her.

  “I don’t.” Adele held her hands up in the air. “Sorry, is it so awful?”

  “At times. I grew up with snide glances and the ‘holier than thou’ attitude. I won’t inflict those things on a child of mine if I can help it.”

  “And the other girl?”

  “I asked him about her. I wanted to find out what he’d say.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He told me she's a close friend. He only went to Oxford for her birthday party.”

  “He kissed with her, tongues and all!” Adele looked incredulous.

  “He said they always kiss. She expected him to.”

  “Funny kind of friends.”

  “But he told you he was visiting his parents,” Jane objected.

  “They were at the party, or so he said. I’m going to pretend to believe him. I’d like to think we'll be happy, in spite of everything. Some people make it work, even in these sort of circumstances, and we can try. But why, if he cared for me, did he stop trying to contact me? He only rang me again directly after he had spoken to Mom.”

  “So you think she put pressure on him to marry you?” Adele asked.

  “I can't explain his sudden change of heart any other way.”

  “Do you want to be with a man your mother forced into marriage?�
� Jane was horrified.

  “I don’t have much choice.”

  “Forgive me, Gigi, but it doesn’t sound as if either of you will be happy.”

  “I know!”

  “What about Finn?” Jane asked.

  Gigi sighed. “I haven’t told him I’m pregnant and I’m not going to now. Once I'm married, I won’t ever see him again.” The words stuck in her throat, but they were true.

  “Not even to say goodbye?”

  “I’ll say goodbye and it'll be hard. I’ll miss him.”

  “Are you sure...?” Jane looked very unhappy.

  “Yes,” Gigi interrupted, her voice rising. “I'm certain. I’m going to marry James. That’s it. End of story.”

  “Well, if your mind is made up, we’d better go shopping for wedding dresses again,” Jane said, with a strained smile.

  8th June 1968, Saturday, London.

  James and Gigi met each other tonight for the first time since their split. So far, they have only spoken on the phone. Truthfully, Gigi hasn’t been keen to meet him face to face. She’s got to the stage of thinking of him as a necessary evil. I hate to think what will happen if I fail and she does end up marrying him.

  They had to get together, of course; they couldn't meet again at their wedding. They went to an Italian restaurant in Bloomsbury and Bertha came too. Her presence hardly added to the romance of the occasion. Gigi, though, was secretly glad she had come with them. Although the food was excellent, Gigi had no appetite. She picked at her lasagne, but quickly drank three glasses of Chianti. The wine gave her enough spirit to talk when she had to. James acted as if he would rather be anywhere else than here. He avoided looking at the others and only spoke to answer pointed questions. The meal was almost silent, although Bertha made a determined effort to keep the talk flowing and had some success. She asked them about London and described life in Antigua until they thawed a bit. The conversation became more natural, but no one talked about anything important.