“That sounds like Eileen.” Adele grinned. “She’s always been stubborn.”
“So although I technically had my first case, it was over quicker than I imagined.”
Her grin stretched ear to ear. “I’m so proud of you, Peyton.”
“Thanks.” I felt my cheeks heat. I stared down at the coffee in my hands. “So how are the twins?”
“They’re good. There’s a school trip being organised, and they’re both begging me to go.”
“And you don’t want them to go?”
“I don’t know. I knew it would come at some point. I guess I just finally feel that things are good. We have a routine, and they have structure, and now they’re starting to pull away from me a bit. It seems like it was only yesterday that I was turning off the TV in the room and tucking them into bed.” She shook her head. “They’ve grown up too quickly, believe me. I’ve grown accustomed to ignoring stray socks in the bedroom now.”
I grimaced. “That’s gross.”
“Tell me about it.”
I laughed. “I’ve missed you, Adele.”
“I’ve missed you, too. We need to have a proper catch-up. Outside of the group.” She glanced towards the centre of the room, where people were busy pulling plastic chairs into a circle.
“Sure.” I nodded. I shoved aside the niggling thought that since opening the business, I’d sunk all my money into it. Any socialisation was pretty much off the table. But it didn’t matter. I would make it work for Adele.
A clap sounded—the usual remonstration and notice for us to be seated—and Adele grabbed my hand. We made our way towards two empty seats, picking the last two together and sitting. I set my cup on the floor and took a look around the circle of chairs.
There were a few new faces and a few old ones that were missing. None of that concerned me. What did, was the person sitting directly opposite me. He wore a sheepish smile on his face and had the look of a man who had put down the bottle only days ago. John. His face was gaunt, and his skin pallid. He wore a shirt two sizes too big, but it didn’t hide the fact that he was skin and bone. His hair had been cut short, and as he smiled, I noticed he was missing a tooth. That was new.
“What’s wrong?” Adele nudged me.
I turned to look at her, but I barely saw her. Why was it that when I was trying to move on with my life, he always turned up? We’d spent one night together, and it was one I’d never forgotten. He showed up when I went speed dating with Olivia, throwing a tantrum at the table when I wouldn’t agree to go home with him. Now, as he stared at me over the small circle of trusted confidantes, I felt my skin crawl.
“Peyton?” Her voice was softer this time, concerned as she followed my gaze across the room. “Who is he?”
“He’s called John.” I dropped my head, staring at the floor. “When I was drinking—actually, it was the last time I had a drink—I made a big mistake and fell into bed with him. He was one of the regrets.”
“Oh, shit.”
“And if that wasn’t enough, I ran into him on a night of speed dating while I was out with Olivia.”
“Double shit.” Her jaw dropped.
“Yeah. He was an arse the first time around and the second.” I paused and shook my head. “Well, let’s just say a quiet night turned into a screaming match in a hall full of people. Awkward much.”
“Don’t let him get to you, honey.” She grabbed my knee and squeezed. “He’s just one more in a sea of thousands. They’re not all bad.”
I shook my head, as instantly, I was transported to the Manor House, with Jake. I remembered his dark eyes and the way his arms curled around my waist as he pulled me close. I shuddered, wondering again whether it was a good time to make a call.
Mila called the group to a complete silence and began the meeting. Her brown hair had grown a few inches since I first met her and was pulled up into a ponytail. Her eyes were light and keen as she swept her them around the circle.
I kept my vision glued to her, refusing to look anywhere else in case my eyes should meet his.
As she opened the meeting and we all greeted each other, I kept my head down and focused on my coffee. I forced myself to listen, concentrating on the words, as one by one, people spoke. John was included in that number.
As he stepped to the front of the group, he cleared his throat, and I couldn’t help but look up. My heart was in my mouth, and my stomach was rolling with the threat of nausea. His eyes met mine, and as he opened his mouth to speak, I wondered what I was going to hear.
“I’m John, and I’m an alcoholic.”
“Hi, John,” came the chorused reply of the group.
Normally, I felt comfort in that phrase, in that collective voice, but as they welcomed him into the fold, I felt nothing but repulsion as it swarmed through me. Having this man here, in my group, was like an invasion of privacy.
He continued talking. “I started drinking heavily when I was eighteen. I went to college with high hopes, but instead of completing my course, I ended up dropping out and spending my days drinking with my friends. It all seemed like harmless fun at first. I was young and stupid.” He shrugged and gave a nervous grin.
I grimaced.
“But then my friends started pulling their lives together, and all I wanted to do was keep drinking. I’d tell my mum I was going to work, and instead I’d sit at the bar all day. But I still couldn’t see what the problem was.” He paused and looked my way.
I dropped my head. I knew what he was doing, and I wasn’t going to play the game. Every one of us in this room had a reason for being here. But now, as he told his, I didn’t want to hear why he became such a callous man.
“It wasn’t until I recently found out that my mum has cancer that everything just sort of clicked. I know now that I’m not immortal. I know this will catch up with me, so I have to do what I can now. I need to be there for my mum.”
“Thank you for sharing,” Mila said, starting a small spatter of applause.
I couldn’t bring myself to put my hands together. I knew it was selfish of me to be so angry, but I was.
As the meeting came to a close and we recited the Serenity prayer, I took a deep breath and dispelled it through my mouth.
“Heads up,” Adele whispered in a hushed tone.
My heart hammered against my chest. He was coming over.
I stood up, knocking over my cup and spilling the remaining drops of cold coffee. “Shit,” I cursed, and as I bent to pick it up, my eyes noted his shoes directly in front of me and then his jeans. Finally, after straightening, I met his eyes.
“Peyton.” He smiled. The motion caused ripples in his cheeks. “It’s good to see you.”
“John.” I nodded and turned. I knew I was being unbearably rude, but I couldn’t stand and talk to this guy. I just couldn’t.
“How are you?” He followed me towards the kitchen when I rinsed my cup out.
“I’m good, John. Sober.”
“Me, too. A week now.” He beamed.
“Good for you.” I made to move past him.
“Listen,” he started, grabbing my elbow to stop me. “I know that I owe you an apology. I was . . . I was a bastard. I know that. You didn’t deserve to be treated the way I treated you.”
I could only nod as I stared at my shoes. An apology helped, but it didn’t fix anything.
“Is there anything I can do to make things right?”
I shook my head and wrenched my arm from his grasp. “Just stay away from me.”
Striding past him, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, without saying goodbye to the usual crowd. I had to get out of there before he caught up with me. I couldn’t deal with this. Not now.
Outside, the air was cool, and as I crossed the street towards the car, I stopped and took a deep breath. I’d gone to the meeting with the hopes of reconnecting and stabilising what was in my mind. Instead, I’d come away feeling lower than I thought physically possible. Having John at those meetings was goin
g to be impossible for me. I shook my head and opened the car door.
At times like this, when I felt low or angry, my first reaction would’ve been to have a drink. It calmed me down and gave me a buzz that warmed me right through. But that was the old me. There was no way I was going back to that. Ever. Not because of some spirits that converged around me, and not because of some arsehole who showed up in my life, uninvited. I would deal with this in a very sensible and adult way.
Back home, the first thing I did was settle into my pyjamas. Then I grabbed the ice cream from the freezer, made myself a fine-tasting coffee, and settled in front of the TV to watch some insanely boring film while I stuffed myself full of fat.
By the end of the film, all thoughts of John had fallen to an ember and my stomach was bloated. Still, I didn’t care as I licked the last spoonful of mush left in the bottom of the tub and set the carton down. Crisis averted. I smiled. My normal coping mechanism was down the pan, and this was my new one. Hell, if it was tastier.
I glanced at my phone and saw a message from Adele, asking where I’d disappeared to. I would reply tomorrow. I turned off the TV and went upstairs, to bed. Soul Seekers didn’t open until ten, which gave my morning a little leeway. But still, it was late, and I was spent.
“So how was your meeting last night?” Olivia asked.
We’d been in the office for an hour of silence so deep I found myself fretting for the second time that week. I’d expected at least a wrong number or a hoax call, but there’d been nothing.
I glanced at Olivia and took a sip from my coffee. My fourth that morning. I wasn’t sure I wanted to answer that question. After dousing myself in a bucket of ice cream, I’d felt better, but just the thought of John made my stomach cramp.
“That bad?” she pressed, staring at me intently. It became clear she wasn’t going to rest until she got an answer.
“John was there.”
“John!” Her eyes bulged. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.” I sighed and dropped my feet from where they were propped up on the desk.
“So what happened?”
“I think it was the first time he was at the meeting. He shared his story, and after, he came to talk to me. I pretty much ran out on him.”
“You ran?” Her mouth twisted between utter shock and a mild hint of amusement. I knew she was picturing it.
“I wasn’t thinking straight, and I wanted to get out of there, away from him. All I achieved was looking like a fool. And the worst part about it is that he’s going to my group meetings now. I can’t exactly ask him to leave.”
“Yeah, that’s not exactly a great thing.” She shook her head. “I remember hauling him out of your house.”
“And so do I.” My cheeks heated. “Having him there is like having a constant reminder of how I used to be. I hate it.”
“You could try another meeting?” she suggested.
“I know, but I’m so established in this one. I have all my friends.”
“Maybe that’s another reason to change it up. Going to another meeting will give you new faces, new contacts.”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I can.”
“Well, if you want to stay away from that creep, then it might be your only option.”
“Or I can hope that he falls off the wagon and gets hit by a train.”
“I’m not normally a mean person,” Olivia laughed, “but I could quite happily see that happening to John, with no guilt.”
I nodded as I took another sip of coffee. “Do you think there’s any other way we can drum up interest in the business?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Ghost hunting is really subject to a few key things, including being haunted by a ghost.”
“Yeah.” I sagged. “That’s one of the snags.”
“Business will come, Peyton. I’m sure of it.”
“I hope so, because I’m starting to lose faith.” I shook my head.
“Did you think that as soon as we opened we’d have tons of calls day and night?” She smiled. “It doesn’t work like that, honey. But we’re doing all the right things. We have business cards. We placed an ad in the paper. And of course, we have word of mouth, which seems to be working wonders.”
“When you put it like that, we’ve done quite a lot, haven’t we?”
“Yes, but I think there’s another avenue we haven’t explored.”
“What’s that?”
“A website.”
I sat forward. She was absolutely right. We didn’t have a website. Having an online presence was a huge thing these days, and I hadn’t even considered it. No wonder the bank manager wouldn’t even entertain my idea.
“Why haven’t we thought of this before now?”
“Well, I did when we were setting up, but I knew it was an extra expense we probably couldn’t afford.”
I waved my hand. “I’ve sunk in just about all I can right now, but having a little more come out wouldn’t hurt at all. I’d manage.” I pulled my chair closer towards her and the computer. “Can you make a website?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m good with computers, but I don’t know shit about stuff like that. That’s a whole other ball game. You need to know coding and—”
“Okay, I get it.” I held my hand up. “I just thought if we could do it on the cheap, maybe someone we know, it would save a whole lot in the long run.”
“Don’t you have any friends that know what they’re doing with computers?” she asked.
I cradled my head with my hand as I mentally went through the circle of faces that instantly came to mind. Most of them were from my AA meeting. There were a lot of people I didn’t know well enough past their name and a greeting. And of those I did know well, none of them were a genius with computers. Except John.
My heart sunk as the realisation set in. John was studying IT at college before he dropped out, and although he spent every day at the bar rather than doing what he should’ve been doing, John had grown up with computers. He knew what he was doing, and I was almost certain he’d know how to make a website.
“The only person I can think of is John.”
Olivia grimaced. “It’s not ideal but—”
I shook my head. “There are no buts at the end of that sentence. It’s just not ideal, and it’s not happening. There’s no way I’m asking him.”
“Okay, okay.” She held her hands up. “I was just trying to think in terms of practicality. And you’d probably be able to guilt-trip him for the way he treated you.”
“No, Olivia.”
“Okay. Ask Adele. See if she has any friends who can. I’ll try a few of my contacts. We’ll really test this word-of-mouth thing.”
“A Soul Seekers website.” I smiled. “People could log incidents with us, and we could have this cool fact sheet, and—”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Olivia shook her head. “First, we need to get it made. But before that can even happen, we need Internet.”
“Oh, yeah. Shit.” I slumped again. “And we’re back to square one.”
“Don’t worry. Things will pick up.”
As if on cue, the phone rang.
Startled, I jumped, almost spilling my coffee for the second day in a row. I cursed my clumsiness. Olivia shook her head, then turned her chair and picked up the phone as I hurriedly did an assessment to make sure I hadn’t spilled on my jeans.
“Hello. Soul Seekers. Oh, Janice, hi. It’s good to hear from you. So yes, you’ve decided you would like to go ahead with the clearing?” Olivia’s eyes flicked to mine. “Brilliant. Of course, if you just let me check the schedule. I’ll just be one minute.” Holding her hand over the handset, Olivia turned to me. “It’s going ahead. Will we tell her we can manage to work it in tonight?”
I nodded enthusiastically. Any work was good, no matter how desperate it made us look.
“Janice,” Olivia started as she went back to the phone. “I’ve checked, and we actually have an opening this ev
ening. How does that work for you? Great. We’ll attend your mother’s house around six to get started. You don’t need to be present through the night, and in fact, we often encourage the residents to stay clear, if possible. Okay. Yes. We’ll see you then.” She put the phone down and turned to me, with a wide grin. “We have our first official case, Peyton!”
I returned the sentiment, my cheeks stretching as I grinned wide. “It’s so hard to believe that Soul Seekers is really happening. Yes, it’s slow right now, but we’re providing a service to those in need, and that feels great.”
“I’m not sure everyone would agree with you.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“We got some hate mail.” She held up a bundle of letters. “I opened a few of them, and they didn’t make for nice reading.”
Amazing that we’d only been open just over a week and had yet to do our first case, but somehow word of mouth had gotten out to all the wrong people, and we were already blacklisted.
I shrugged. “Just file it somewhere. Maybe the bin. I don’t even want to read it. Soul Seekers is doing a service to those in need, and I won’t change that for anyone.”
We spent the rest of the day preparing, drinking coffee, and setting up the kit. Our kit room, as I liked to call it, was a little bare, but I had high hopes for the future. Jim, a man I knew from AA, was coming to install the shelves after a conversation we’d had after a meeting. Plus, he’d refused any sort of payment. Although I had that on my list of favours to repay, the room would be looking good soon, and I hoped to one day fill them with enough to ensure there was always at least a few of everything. That would come with time and money, and that would only come if I actually got to work.
Hoisting the backpack up and onto my shoulders—it was much lighter than the last time—I left the room and made my way back towards the office, where Olivia was slurping down the last of her coffee.
“Are you ready? It’s almost time.”
Nodding, she stood up and set her cup down. “Computer’s already off.”
“Good. Now listen, I don’t think this is going to be a dangerous case, but you can never be sure with ghosts. So we stick together, and you follow my lead.”
Dead Drunk Page 4