“Tom, was that you? Did you leave this for me? Are you really here? Oh Tom, I’m so sorry. If you can hear me, then please, please believe me. I love you so much, and I miss you and ....” she paused, as she rose awkwardly to stand up. “Can you forgive me, Tom? What I did was unforgivable, and I’m so sorry, my love.” Grace fell silent then, and stood quietly staring at the honeysuckle for a few more minutes, shifting uncomfortably on her frail legs. Suddenly she straightened up, and her face brightened as she cried out, “Oh goodness me, Tom. How could I not have thought of this before? You should be here, with your father, of course you should. Tom, if you can hear me, I’m going to make sure you’re moved here, where you belong. Do you hear me, Tom?”
“Yes, Mother, I hear you.” Tom’s voice was just a whisper, but Jemma jumped as if he’d just shouted in her ear. She turned round and found Tom standing behind her, with an expression on his face that she couldn’t quite read.
“Tom! How long have you been standing there?” asked Jemma, with a mixture of guilt and surprise.
“I saw what you did,” he said, quietly.
“You’re not cross, are you? I just wanted your mum to acknowledge that she loved you, and hoped that she would then think to move your ashes.”
Tom walked over to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. “God, Jemma, how could I be cross with you? Look what you’ve done for me. Did she really just say those things?”
“Yes, she did. She loves you, Tom. Really loves you. I went to visit her and she’s been mourning you all these years.”
Tom walked over to his mother and reached out to touch her cheek gently. Grace sighed, as if acknowledging the gesture, bent down and picked up the sprig of honeysuckle, staring at it in wonderment. Jemma wanted to stay and watch, but, reluctantly, she knew that she should leave them alone. Slowly she walked away, leaving mother and son to their emotional reconciliation.
*****
“Where the hell is she?” grumbled Alice, snapping her phone shut for the fourth time and staring in frustration at the small purple card in her hand.
“Who?” asked Jack, glancing briefly up from his laptop.
“Maggie. I’ve been trying to call her for ages, but she never picks up. She must be back from that retreat thing by now.”
“Maggie is a law onto herself,” chuckled Jack, as he closed the laptop and stood up. “She’ll be back when she’s ready. Come on, we need to leave in ten minutes for the gig. Where are we meeting Oscar and Dean?”
“By the main doors. How do I look?” she asked, giving a little twirl.
“Gorgeous, as always.” Jack planted a quick kiss on her lips and disappeared upstairs to get ready. Alice, who had started getting ready an hour ago, marvelled at how a man could get ready to go out in less than ten minutes, and still look good. “God, it’s so unfair,” she muttered to herself. Sure enough, ten minutes later, Jack was waiting by the front door, clean shaven, smartly dressed, and looking as if he had spent at least forty five minutes getting ready. Not wanting to be outdone, Alice decided to have one last check of her make-up and ran quickly upstairs to the bathroom, leaving Jack by the front door with his coat on and ready to go.
“Come on, Alice. We need to leave now,” he called.
“Won’t be long,” she called back. She finished applying her lipstick, and smiled at herself in the mirror, she didn’t scrub up too badly, she thought, happily. She was about to turn the light off and go back downstairs, when something made her stop and turn back to the mirror. At first, she wasn’t sure if it was just the light playing tricks, but when she looked into the mirror again, her eyes were drawn to a little cloud of mist to the right of her reflection. Slowly, the image of a face started forming in the mist, blurry and undefined at first, but becoming more distinct until she recognised the face staring back at her. She gasped when she saw the reflection of the ghost-boy standing behind her, his pale face hovering just over her right shoulder. She swung around quickly to face him, but the bathroom was empty, she was completely alone. Slowly, holding her breath, she turned back to look at the mirror again, but the boy was gone, all that was left was a tiny patch of mist. With a cry of relief she leant against the sink and shut her eyes. This wasn’t happening, it was all in her imagination, she told herself sternly. And yet he had looked so real.
“Alice, are you coming? We’ll be late,” Jack called, impatiently.
“Er, yes. I’m coming.” For the first time since she had first seen the boy, Alice wasn’t sure if she should tell Jack what had just happened. She couldn’t forget the look of doubt in his eyes the last time she had seen him and, although Jack had said he believed her, there was no mistaking the change in his voice when he had reassured her. Maybe he was right to doubt her, she thought, fearfully, maybe she really was losing the plot.
“You alright?” he asked, as she made her way downstairs.
“Yes, fine. Let’s go,” she smiled, and grabbed her coat as if nothing had happened. Walking hand in hand to the tube station, Alice couldn’t get the boy out of her mind, but decided that she definitely wouldn’t say anything to Jack just now. If he really did doubt her, then this wouldn’t exactly help. After all, even she had to admit that seeing the face of a ghost appear from a bit of mist on a mirror, sounded a bit far-fetched. So, pushing the incident to the back of her mind, she told him instead about Oscar’s phone call earlier telling her how excited Dean was about the gig tonight.
When they arrived at the theatre, they couldn’t see Dean and Oscar, so they waited amongst the milling crowd outside. It was a beautiful old Victorian theatre, grand and imposing, and Alice felt a thrill of excitement as she looked through the doors into a large foyer with chandeliers hanging extravagantly from the ceiling, and a grand sweeping staircase leading to the upper level.
A few minutes later, Oscar came rushing through the crowd and flung his arms around Alice, giving her an enormous hug. “Oh hi, Sweetie, sorry we’re late,” he kissed her affectionately on the cheek, and turned to Jack, giving him an equally big hug, although he didn’t get a kiss. “You must be Jack, I’m so pleased to meet you,” he purred. He turned to Alice and gave her a wink, “He’s cute.” Alice laughed and introduced Jack to Dean, who extended his hand in a more formal, but nevertheless friendly, handshake; this time Dean was smiling, unlike the time she had first met him.
Jack led them to the front of the queue, showed the doorman his pass and they were ushered inside.
“Wow! This place is amazing,” said Oscar, as they made their way up the grand staircase to the Balcony Bar, pushing their way through the crowd. The bar was packed and noisy, and they were constantly jostled as people pushed past them to get to the bar. Oscar linked his arm through Jack’s and said something that Alice couldn’t hear. Jack nodded and gestured to her that they were going to get some drinks, leaving her and Dean alone.
“Thank you for asking us to come along tonight,” Dean shouted over the drone of voices and music.
“Pardon?” Alice strained to hear what he was saying.
“Tell you what. Let’s go through to the balcony, the support band has finished and it’ll be quieter there as everyone’s in here. I’ll just let the other two know.”
When he returned, he grabbed her hand and led her through some doors and into the dress circle. He was right, the support band were packing away and most of the crowd had disappeared into the bar, except downstairs in the stalls, where the standing crowd were determinedly staying put so they could get as close to the stage as possible when Underscore came on. They found some free seats and sat down, thankful to escape the crowds, and although there was music playing in the background, it wasn’t as loud as it had been in the bar area. Alice suddenly felt a bit awkward, she wasn’t sure what to say to Dean. She was still wary of him after their initial meeting, and she couldn’t forget that he had originally wanted to sack her. She tried to think of something funny or clever to say, but her brain had gone to sleep, so instead she pretended to be
interested in a patch of chewing gum on the seat in front. Luckily, Dean spoke first.
“So, do we really get to meet the band afterwards or was that just Oscar exaggerating?”
“Oh no. I mean, Oscar wasn’t exaggerating. Yes, after the concert has finished we make our way to Danny’s Bar for the after show party. We’re on the guest list.” Dean looked impressed. Danny’s Bar was one of the trendiest wine bars in London, frequented by pop stars, actors and rich VIPs. Jack had told her that the door policy was so strict that mere mortals like themselves rarely made it inside, and if they did, a single glass of Champagne cost over twenty pounds, so you needed a hefty bank balance. But, for tonight at least, they were on the guest list and the Champagne would be free.
Alice glanced around the theatre. Although it was mainly used for rock and pop concerts now, it still retained some of its original features, like the cute gold cherubs grinning down at them from the ceiling. She imagined how it would have looked when the theatre had first been built. The shows would have been spectacular, and the audience elegant and probably affluent; the men dressed in their dinner jackets and the ladies parading in their beautiful long evening dresses, carrying fans and miniature jewel encrusted binoculars. She could almost smell the men’s heavy cigar smoke and sweet scent of ladies’ perfumes, and slowly she felt herself becoming drawn into a trance-like state where she could see the faint images of people in period costume; she could even hear their voices, talking and laughing. Then, out of the corner of her eyes, she could see the image of a man in a top hat coming towards her, waving some sort of cane and shouting furiously. He was angry, very angry, and she could feel the force of his fury getting stronger as he came closer. She got the distinct feeling that the man was shouting at her, but that was silly. Why would a complete stranger be so mad at her? But there was no mistaking the tirade of abuse that was being targeted at her, and although she couldn’t hear what he was actually shouting, she felt deeply afraid and recoiled in fear when she thought he was going to hit her with the cane.
“What’s up?” Dean’s voice snapped her back to the present, and the man vanished.
“Oh nothing,” she said, shakily, “I just thought I saw something.” She smiled at him, relieved that she had only been daydreaming, and yet she still felt a bit uneasy, although she didn’t know why.
“He doesn’t want us to be here,” said Dean softly, just as Jack and Oscar were coming towards them with their drinks.
“Who?”
“You didn’t imagine the man in the hat, he’s a ghost. He’s haunting this theatre and he’s seriously pissed off. He resents this intrusion every night; the noise, the crowds. It’s his theatre and he’s desperate to get rid of all these noisy, common delinquents who are invading his space.”
Alice stared opened mouthed at Dean. Firstly, because he had just described exactly what it was that she had seen and felt, and secondly, how the hell did he know?
“How do you know there’s a ghost here?”
“Because I’ve been seeing ghosts all my life, Alice. It’s not something I enjoy, and it’s certainly not something I normally like to talk about, but I know you understand.” He smiled his thanks to Jack, who handed him his drink, and turned back to Alice. “We’ll talk about it later,” he whispered, before he turned back to Jack and asked him about his job.
Chapter 16
Underscore were fantastic on stage and the crowd adored them. Alice found it quite funny to see Dean, who was normally so serious, let his hair down as he danced and cheered along to the uptempo music, and even Oscar, who claimed not to like the band, seemed to know the words to most of the songs. And to cap it all, just before the final encore, Jack led them down to the main foyer, showed a security guard his pass, and they were shown through a door which led to the backstage area. Alice felt a thrill of excitement as they made their way through a series of corridors, their footsteps echoing against the muffled sound of the music on stage, until they got to the green room. Inside was a small group of people lounging in tatty looking sofas, some with beers in their hands, and all chatting loudly. One of them stood up when he spotted Jack and came over to them with a big smile on his face.
“Hey, Jack mate, good to see you,” he said. Alice thought she vaguely recognised him as she watched him embrace Jack and slap him on the back.
“Hi Rick, how’re you doing? This is my girlfriend Alice, and this is Oscar and Dean.” As Rick extended his hand, Jack explained. “Rick is Underscore’s manager, it’s thanks to him that they’re so big now.”
Rick laughed, “I’d say that some of your great reviews have helped. Anyway, you’re all very welcome. The boys are just about finished and they’ll be off stage in a minute. I’ll introduce you all and then you can come with us to Danny’s on the tour bus. That okay?” Alice couldn’t help notice Dean’s face flush with excitement. It was quite sweet really, he looked a bit like a star struck teenager. She wondered if all music journalists got such a warm welcome; Jack’s reviews must have been pretty amazing to warrant a ride on the tour bus. Ten minutes later, the band came off stage and greeted Jack like an old friend, which surprised her even more as she wasn’t aware that he knew the band personally.
The short journey on the tour bus had been a revelation. Alice had never dreamt that a vehicle that looked like an ordinary coach from the outside, could be so lavish on the inside. There were plush sofas, a music system, plasma screen TV and a very well stocked bar, which was attended to by a discreet barman. Alice learned, whilst sipping a glass of very expensive, chilled Champagne, that Jack and Rick knew each other from their university days, and that Jack had advised Rick when he was putting the band together. “I didn’t tell you because I wanted to see your face when I introduced you,” Jack grinned.
Danny’s Bar was every bit as impressive as Alice had imagined. On arrival they were ushered into the private party area, where a waiter handed them a glass of Champagne. The club had been done up to look like the ice hotels you might find in Northern Scandinavia, with nearly everything looking like it was made of ice. The ice-effect bar itself was lit up by stunning purple coloured lights, and the whole mirrored wall behind it was covered in tiny little LED lights that looked like twinkling stars in a crystal clear, dark blue sky. The tables also looked like they were made of ice, with a light at the base of each one, lighting them up in a spectacular lightshow, gently changing from one shade of blue to another. A hidden projector in the ceiling threw streaks of green light waving through the air that looked like the Northern Lights, creating a shimmering ambiance that was breathtaking.
While Jack excused himself briefly and went to greet some acquaintances, Alice just stood still for a few seconds taking it all in, until Oscar gently flipped her chin to close her mouth. “Careful, Petal, you’re looking like you’ve never been here before,” he whispered.
“But I haven’t.”
“I know, but you don’t want anyone else to think that, do you. Pretend that you come here all the time and that you’re not in the least bit impressed and ... oh my word,” he gasped, “there’s Boy George.” Without a moment’s hesitation, Oscar glided over to the singer and greeted him with an enormous hug. “George darling, how lovely to see you,” he gushed, so convincingly that Alice actually found herself wondering if he really did know him.
“He’s never met Boy George in his life,” smiled Dean, as if reading her mind. “He gets a bit excited when he sees a famous face, bless him.”
Feeling slightly star struck herself, Alice, who wasn’t normally that bothered with celebrities, poked Dean excitedly when David Bowie smiled a friendly greeting as he brushed past them. And then Rob, the singer of Underscore, wandered over and started chatting to them. He jokingly told Alice that when she was tired of Jack, she should give him a call and he would show her a good time, and she giggled like a teenager, “Don’t hold your breath,” she laughed. When he gave her a quick kiss before disappearing to find Rick, she practically had to scrape Dean
up off the floor.
“Bloody hell, Alice! Rob from Underscore just flirted with you. And you flirted back, you little hussy.” They laughed and continued chatting amiably while Jack was talking to one of the band members, and Oscar had wandered off to flirt with David Bowie.
“Having a good time?” she smiled, surprised to find herself warming to Dean more and more.
“Too right I am,” he grinned. He put his arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “For one night only we’re partying with the stars and I’m loving every minute.” They wandered over to a free table and sat down; Alice feeling thankful to take the weight off her feet, as she was wearing new high heeled strappy sandals.
“So, how long have you been seeing ghosts then?” she asked, unable to hold her curiosity back any longer.
“Like I said, all my life. I didn’t realise they were ghosts at first, I just assumed they were normal living people, like myself.” He took a sip of his Champagne and continued. “I used to play with this little girl when I was about six years old. Her name was Janet and she was the same age as me, we used to play hide and seek for hours. I never questioned the fact that no-one ever spoke about her; she lived in the attic, and she was my secret friend and that was fine with me. One day though, I mentioned her to my mum and she got really upset. Apparently, the people who lived in the house before us had a daughter called Janet who had died of meningitis when she was six years old. My mum thought I knew and was making it all up, which of course I wasn’t, and got really cross with me, so I decided not to tell her anymore. As I got older, I realised that it was best not to mention my invisible friends to anyone, as they invariably thought I was crazy and took the piss out of me. So I never spoke about it again.”
Love In The Wrong Dimension (Romantic Ghost Story) Page 16