“Jemma was such a lovely girl.” She looked up to see her Aunt Tess talking. She was saying how brave Jemma had been when her mother had died, and how she felt that she had let her down by not being more of a parent to her when she was younger.
Jemma was taken aback. She hadn't realised that her Aunt cared that much, but there was no mistaking the genuine sadness in her voice, as she spoke.
Then it was Alice's turn to get up and speak. Jemma braced herself as Alice walked shakily up to the pulpit and started speaking in a small, trembling voice.
“Jemma was a very special person,” she paused, trying desperately to hold herself together. “She was funny and kind and loyal and she …..” Alice's voice was barely audible.
Jemma couldn't bear to see Alice so upset, so she walked over and put her arms around her, willing her friend to remain strong. And Alice did suddenly seem to pull herself together, as if she had somehow sensed Jemma's support. She took a deep breath and continued.
She didn't speak for long but what she said was touching and evocative. She ended her speech by saying that Jemma had been like a sister to her and that it was wrong that she had died so suddenly and so young. “She was so full of life,” Alice said passionately, “and there's no way she was ready to die. This should never have happened.”
As the congregation were singing Amazing Grace, Jemma turned to look at Tom, and noticed that his shoulders were slumped and his head was bowed, as if he was scrutinising the stone floor.
“Tom, what's wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Is it this song? Did they sing this at your funeral?” She was curious to know more about Tom, and hoped that maybe the intense atmosphere meant that he would loosen up a bit and tell her a bit more about himself.
“Jemma, this is your funeral. I don't want to talk about me.” Although he was smiling at her, his tone made it perfectly clear that she needed to change the subject.
“At least tell me how you died,” she persisted.
“For god’s sake, will you leave it? I don't want to talk about it.” This time he wasn't smiling.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. Why the hell was he so secretive about himself? His constant refusal to discuss his past only made her more curious. She wasn't going to give up that easily though, and decided to grill Susie about it later.
It had been a nice ceremony, emotional but dignified. Afterwards, Jemma watched from a distance, as the congregation gathered slowly around the empty grave outside. Jack had his arm around Alice, supporting her as she grew ever more distressed. Even Aunt Tess was crying, something Jemma had never seen before – Aunt Tess never cried, not even when her sister had died. At least, not that she had been aware of.
Then, slowly, all the voices faded from her mind as Alice's words were still ringing in her ears. “She was so full of life, there's no way she was ready to die. This should never have happened.”
“That's it!” cried Jemma, as she jumped up from the tree stump she'd been sitting on.
“That's what?” asked Tom.
“That's why I'm here! I was never meant to die. This is not my time!”
“Okay, but why are you so happy about that?”
“Don't you see? Now that I know why I'm trapped here, I can actually do something about it.”
“Like what?”
“I don't know. Yet. But remember Susie said that until I know why I'm here, I won't be going anywhere. Now that I know, surely that's a start?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” said Tom distractedly, “but right now, you need to decide if you want to go to your wake. Look, everyone's leaving.”
“Oh.” In her excitement, Jemma had completely missed the most important part of the funeral – her burial!
As she watched her friends getting into the entourage of cars parked along the road, Jemma didn't want to leave them. Somehow, the finality of today was making her feel uneasy, like she wasn't ready to let go just yet.
“Do you mind if we tag along?” she asked Tom.
“Of course not. I'm hardly in a rush to go anywhere,” he grinned. “I heard someone say it's at your Aunt's house, let do our Star Trek thing and beam ourselves over there.”
Chapter 5
“I'm bored,” sighed Jemma, as she watched Jack empty the washing machine. Watching his mundane chores around the house, day in and day out, had become her only source of entertainment, and it was becoming depressing. She knew what he ate for breakfast, how he stacked the dishwasher and which brand of toothpaste he used. Even though she had been tempted, she had drawn the line at watching him in the shower. Some things were meant to be kept private!
It was less than a month since her funeral and, already, Jemma felt that she had been dead for an eternity. She couldn't eat or drink, she couldn't have a bath and even reading a book proved futile, as she couldn’t turn the page. Tom was hardly ever around, Max was creepy and Susie, although she was a lovely girl, was only nine! She needed a distraction, something to keep her occupied until she figured out how to leave this dimension that was keeping her prisoner. She had been so determined to leave at first, but, without realising it, she had settled into something of a routine and her plans had somehow become something she would think about the next day, and the next.... She had gladly accepted Tom’s invitation to stay with them, she couldn’t face being on her own at the flat, watching Alice cry herself to sleep every night.
Susie jumped down from the kitchen table, “Well, today is Saturday and X Factor is on tonight – Jack loves the X Factor, so we can watch that with him. He also likes to watch the Eastenders omnibus on a Sunday afternoon, so that'll kill a couple of hours tomorrow.”
“So our only entertainment is eavesdropping on someone else's TV programmes? I can hardly wait,” grumbled Jemma.
“Oh, it's not that bad,” grinned Susie. “I often amuse myself by winding Jack up, I keep changing the TV channel in the middle of a programme. Trouble is, he's got used to it now and just tells me to go away. I'm better at touching things than people, I don't know why. I'm great at knocking things off shelves and stuff!”
“How do you manage to even do that? Whenever I try and touch anything, my hand just passes through to the other side.” As if to prove her point, Jemma clenched her fist and tried to knock on the kitchen table but, as usual, her hand went straight through.
Susie laughed and gently flicked a teaspoon into the sink.
“How can you do that?” frowned Jemma.
“It’s easy, but it takes practice. As I said, I’m better at touching things than people because it’s actually a lot harder to touch a living person. I’ve been here for twenty years and I still can’t touch people properly. Tom says it’s because I’m a child, it’s so annoying. Anyway, I’ll show you what to do and then you can have a practice while we’re out haunting. You basically use the same technique that you use for touching the living, you just do it in a slightly different way. You still need to focus all your energy on whatever it is you want to touch, but instead of concentrating on a person, you direct all your energy to a specific point on whatever it is you want to touch. Like this.” Susie stared for a moment at the table before clenching her fist and gently knocking on it. “You try it. Knocking on something is a bit hard at first, so try moving that cup over there.”
Jemma focused all her energy on the cup and concentrated as hard as she could on moving it. Suddenly, the cup went flying across the room and crashed next to a sleeping Casper, who woke with a startled meow. “Yes! I did it,” she cried.
“You need to learn to adjust the amount of energy you focus depending on what you want to touch, but you’ve basically got it. Now you can join me in having a bit of fun.”
“That's what I like about you,” smiled Jemma, “you're always so positive and funny. But Tom's very serious isn't he? I thought he was fun at first, but he's been really quiet and withdrawn since my funeral.”
“Tom's okay, Jemma. He just has a lot of stuff to deal with, and I reckon that
being at your funeral might have brought back a few bad memories.”
“Memories from his own funeral, you mean?”
“He didn't go to his funeral, he wouldn't have coped with the grief.”
“It’s never easy watching your family suffer. Funerals are sad at the best of times, but to watch your own family grieve for you...” Jemma shook her head, sadly.
“No, his family didn't go to the funeral either. That's what he couldn't deal with, his own grief at his mum's rejection.”
“Oh, that's awful!” Jemma was shocked. “How did he die?”
“Brain tumour.”
“Why on earth would a mother turn her back on her own son when he'd just died of a brain tumour? That doesn't make sense. Had he done something wrong?”
Susie looked uncomfortable, “Look, I shouldn't be talking about this. Tom would go mad if he heard. Just remember, he's a good guy. He's looked after me from the moment he got here, and, although he can be a bit moody at times, he's kind, honest and even has a sense of humour every now and then!”
Jemma shook her head in frustration. She was more curious than ever, but knew that she wasn't going to get anything else out of Susie for now. It did seem odd to her that Tom hadn't told her about his death himself, after all, what was wrong with dying from a brain tumour?
“Where is Tom, anyway?” asked Jemma, realising that she hadn't seen him all morning.
“Dunno, he's probably gone to the cemetery again. He often goes there to be with his dad. He'll be back in time for X Factor. Come on!” Susie grinned, “You and me are going to have some fun!”
“Where are we going?”
“You'll see, there are advantages to being able to walk through walls and being completely invisible, you know. Let's go do some haunting!”
“In the middle of the day? Aren't we supposed to wait until midnight?”
“Oh no, that's a complete myth, ghosts are around all the time – it's just more fun haunting at night, because people get scared more easily.” Susie had that mischievous glint in her eye again, “A bit of harmless spooking is just what we need right now. And later, after X Factor, we'll go and wind up a group of ghost hunters at The Marling Hotel.”
“What's that?”
“A hotel, dummy! It's a really old hotel and it’s famous for being haunted, so a couple of ghost hunting groups meet there regularly. Jack goes sometimes – some of the people from his group are members of this ghost hunting society. There are a couple of boring old resident ghosts there, but they never do anything scary, so I help out every now and then by providing a few bumps and screams during their vigils. It's a right laugh!”
“Susie, you are bad – but I can't wait. So, who are we going to haunt now then?”
“You’ll see,” Susie giggled, “Let’s go shopping.”
“Huh?”
Jemma was still wondering what Susie was going to get up to as they wandered into a supermarket. It was very busy, with Saturday shoppers weaving in and out of the crowded aisles, some with shopping lists, others with confused and stressed expressions on their faces, but all with one common goal – to get out of there as soon as possible!
They watched as a very young boy, sitting in the seat of a trolley, was begging his mum for a packet of sweets. The young mum was adamant that he wasn’t having them and crossly thrust them back onto the shelf, leaving the poor child looking crestfallen.
“Oh, poor thing, it’s only a few sweets. Let’s give him a hand,” and with that, Susie walked over to the shelf, focused intensely on the packet of sweets and eventually managed to knock them off the shelf and into the trolley just as the woman was about to move on.
“But won’t the mum notice at the tills and refuse to pay for them?” asked Jemma.
“Oh no, she’ll be so busy loading everything onto the conveyor belt and then packing them into bags on the other side, that she won’t notice a small packet of sweets. And when she gets home and unpacks the shopping, she’ll think that she must have put them in the trolley after all and let the boy have them.”
“How do you know?”
“You don’t think this is the first time I’ve done this, do you?” giggled Susie. “I once swapped a posh lady’s fillet steak for a tin of spam. You should have seen her face at the checkout when she saw it.”
“Susie, you are incorrigible!” scolded Jemma, suppressing a hidden smile.
When they returned to the house a couple of hours later, they were laughing and chatting nonstop.
“Did you see that man's face when I knocked those books off the shelf at the library?” cried Jemma, tears of laughter rolling down her face.
“And the librarian thought it was him and nearly threw him out!” Susie howled.
“Actually, that wasn’t on purpose. I was trying to help him. I heard him ask her where the books on Monet’s paintings were and I felt sorry for him when he couldn’t find them. That’s why I knocked that book down – it was a book about Monet. Only, I haven’t quite perfected the technique yet so the whole bloody lot came down. Poor man, he did look shocked.”
“At least he found his book.”
“Thanks Susie,” Jemma felt better than she had since she'd died, and knew that Susie had gone out of her way to help cheer her up. “I've had loads of fun today.”
“That's okay. I’m really glad to have a new friend.” Susie’s expression changed, and she now looked serious as she spoke. “Tom’s really sweet and I love him to bits and all that, but he’s very grown-up and sensible isn’t he? You’re much more fun.”
“Are you trying to say that I’m not grown-up and sensible?” teased Jemma.
“Oh no, not at all. Put it this way, when you first came, I didn’t really like you very much. You seemed so angry and uptight, but now that you’ve come to terms with being here, you’re a lot more chilled.”
“Susie, I’m still leaving. The reason I was so uptight was because I’d just died and I was scared. I may have ‘come to terms with being here’ as you put it, but I’m still planning on finding a way out eventually.”
“I don’t want you to go,” whispered Susie. “Don’t get a big head or anything, but I sort of like you.”
Jemma walked over to Susie and put her arms around her, holding her tightly, feeling protective of this young girl who had died so tragically young. This only made Susie burst into tears and cling to Jemma even more tightly.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” Jemma was shocked to see Susie so distraught, it was a side of her she hadn’t seen before and she tightened her arms around her.
“Sorry. It’s just that I haven’t had a hug since I died. Tom’s been like a father to me, but sometimes a girl just needs a motherly hug. I miss my mum, Jemma. I just want to go home, I was never meant to die.”
Jemma hugged Susie and tried to think of something positive to say. Poor child. It had never occurred to her that this funny, cheeky young girl was so lonely. As she stroked her hair gently though, a thought suddenly struck her.
“I wasn’t meant to die either, so I’m going to do something about it. Come with me, Susie, I’ll help you get home.”
“But what about Tom? I’m not leaving him here.”
“Can’t he come too?”
Susie shook her head. “You and me weren’t meant to die, but he died of a brain tumour. It was his time to die, but he can’t accept the things that happened around the time of his death, so I don’t think he can ever leave because of what happened.”
“Well, if he won’t even talk about it, then he’ll never know,” Jemma frowned crossly, cursing Tom for being so damned secretive. His stubborn refusal to face his demons was keeping Susie here. “I think it’s time I had a little chat with him.”
“Jemma, don’t give Tom a hard time, there’s a lot more to it than you know…”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it,” said Susie, and stood up, indicating that she had said enough.
A little la
ter, Susie said something about going in to the house next door as the kids who lived there usually watched Tracy Beaker, whoever she was, at that time, and Jemma found herself alone. She wondered idly around the house, which was now very quiet. Jack had gone out, and Tom still wasn’t back. She smiled at the thought of Tom; handsome and friendly on the one hand, aloof and elusive on the other. She wished she could get him to open up to her, to trust her enough to tell her about himself. She imagined how his intense green eyes would soften as he poured his heart out. She would put her arms around him to let him know she understood and then his beautiful, perfect lips would seek hers and they would kiss passionately.....
“What're you smirking about?” growled a voice from the corner of the living room.
Jemma snapped back to reality with a start. She had never spoken to Max before, he always looked so angry and hostile. He'd never made any attempt to talk to her either and she had been careful to avoid him - he gave her the creeps.
“Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about something Susie said,” she replied, not wanting to start up a conversation with him. She mentally reinforced the protective barrier of energy around her, as if she somehow thought that he might attack her.
“Bloody kid, always up to no good,” he grumbled, his cold, beady eyes devoid of any expression. “Where's Tom?”
“Erm, I don't really know. You know Tom, always popping out without warning.”
“Hmm, he always was a wanderer. When he was a youngster, he walked right out of the front door without telling no-one and he was gone for hours. His mum was mad as hell.”
“How long have you known him?” Jemma asked, puzzled.
“All his life. Watched him grow up.”
“How did you know him? Are you related?”
“No, you daft girl, I've been dead over a hundred years. I just watched Tom grow up here that's all.”
“Tom grew up here? In Jack's house? So that's why he haunts this house, it's his home.”
“'Course it bloody is. Why else would he be here?”
Good point, thought Jemma. Max was staring at her, and she shifted uncomfortably under his steely gaze. There was something about Max, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, especially as he was being perfectly civil with her right now, but something in his eyes hinted at something very dark, even menacing, and she found herself wondering if he was as harmless as Tom had said he was.
Love In The Wrong Dimension (Romantic Ghost Story) Page 5