Love In The Wrong Dimension (Romantic Ghost Story)

by Darbyshire, Anette

*****

  Jack’s frown deepened as Alice told him about her encounter with the angel, barely pausing for breath. “Oh, Jack, I wish you could have seen him, he was the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen. Thank god Dean told me that he might be an angel, otherwise I would have got more and more freaked out, and he would never have been able to communicate with me, and I wouldn’t have got the message for Jemma. I’m so relieved that the boy was real, I was beginning to think I was going mad. You were beginning to think that as well, weren’t you?”

  The question caught Jack off guard. He looked uncertain for a moment while he thought about what Alice had said, and his reply was tentative. “I never thought you were going mad, Alice, but you had been under an enormous amount of strain, and when you’re stressed, the mind can sometimes play tricks on you.”

  “In other words, you thought I was going mad. I knew you didn’t believe me.” There was a hint of accusation in her voice, challenging him.

  “I did believe you,” he snapped, “but you were becoming more and more hysterical every time you had an encounter with him, and I was worried about you. You were the only one who ever saw him, so it could very well have been a figment of your imagination. Anyway, at least your precious Dean believed you.”

  Alice stared at Jack in shock. There was a new hostility in his voice that hadn’t been there before. It had never occurred to her that he didn’t like Dean, in fact, they seemed to get on really well at the concert. They were similar in so many ways, like they were both into their music, and both were very spiritual. The only reason she could imagine why Jack wouldn’t like Dean, was because he was jealous of her friendship with him. How ridiculous, she thought, her irritation surfacing again.

  “Yes, Jack. He believed me and he was right, so what’s your bloody problem?” She could feel her temper begin to flare, but the last thing she wanted right now was an argument. She had hoped that Jack would have been just as pleased for her as Dean had been, and that he would have been interested in every last detail. He hadn’t even asked her what the message for Jemma was. She had been on such a high after her encounter, but now she felt deflated and even more pissed off with him for spoiling her moment. “Anyway,” she mumbled, “if you hear from Maggie I’d appreciate it if you would let me know.”

  “Fine. I’m going out, I’ll be back later.” With that, Jack grabbed his jacket and left, banging the front door behind him.

  Alice stared at the door in bewilderment. What the hell had that been all about? “Screw you, Jack!” she shouted, loudly, waking Casper who had been asleep on one of the chairs. He looked up at her, and gave a little grunt to show his annoyance at being woken up so rudely, before curling himself back up to resume his lazy slumber. By the time Jack got home, it was gone eleven o’clock and Alice had been in bed for twenty minutes.

  “Alice?” he whispered, quietly.

  But she was still angry with him, so she didn’t reply and pretended that she was asleep. The next morning, she woke feeling tired and groggy. She reached sleepily out to Jack, but his side of the bed was cold and empty, and recollection of last night’s argument came flooding back. With a sigh, she dragged herself out of bed and went downstairs to put the kettle on. The house seemed so empty without Jack, he would normally be sitting at the table now, drinking freshly brewed tea and reading the morning papers. Normally, she would sneak up behind him, kiss the back of his head and nick his tea. She missed him, and she hoped desperately that this wasn’t a sign of things to come.

  She decided that she couldn’t be bothered making herself any tea, if she couldn’t have Jack’s, she’d do without. She wished now that she hadn’t swapped her shift for tomorrow, it would have been a relief to go to work now and get out of the atmosphere of this house. She slowly got herself showered and dressed, but when she was ready, she still didn’t know what to do. When she’d swapped her shift, her first thought was that it would be nice to go Christmas shopping with Jack today, but that didn’t look very likely now, so instead she decided to go back to the flat and do some more packing. An uncomfortable thought sprang into her head then, what if Jack regretted asking her to move in, and that was why he was being so stroppy with her? Maybe she shouldn’t be in such a hurry to pack the rest of her stuff. By the time she was halfway down the street on her way to the flat, she had convinced herself that Jack had completely gone off her and was going to come home tonight to tell her that he didn’t want her to move in after all. When she got to the flat she was in tears, and on the verge of going back to the house to move her stuff back, before Jack told her to. She couldn’t face going into Jemma’s room today, so she decided to sort some of her own stuff out. She would have to move no matter what now, as her parents had a new tenant lined up for the new year. Slowly and half heartedly, she started putting her clothes into neat piles, and when all the clothes were sorted she reached under her bed for the flattened storage boxes she had put there when she had moved in. When she pulled the boxes out, she noticed something on top of one of them and, to her surprise, she saw that it was the green top that she had planned on wearing on the day of her interview at Glitz. That was so weird, how the hell did it get under her bed? She knew with absolute certainty that she had put it on the chair, although on reflection, she was glad now that she hadn’t worn it. What had she been thinking of, she thought, it really was quite ugly. Jemma would have hated it, in fact, Jemma would have told her not to wear it. It was almost as if Jemma had been telling her just that. Then she remembered the incident with the bangle. Jemma had been there that night, she had helped her find the bangle, and she had been there for her. “Oh my god,” she cried, aloud, “Jemma must have hidden it to stop me wearing it.” With that she promptly burst into tears, and all her grief and frustration came flooding out. She cried like she hadn’t cried since Jemma died, she cried for her dead friend, and for the possible loss of her beautiful lover. She didn’t know how long she sat on the floor, crying and clutching onto the green top, but slowly she became aware of a hand on her shoulder, a hand giving her comfort and gentle reassurance. She suddenly noticed that the atmosphere had changed, that there was another presence in the room and her skin tingled as she turned around quickly, expecting to see Jemma standing behind her, but the room remained empty. Even so, she knew that Jemma had been there and through her tears, she laughed aloud as she said, “You were right about the top, hun. Thanks.”

  With renewed optimism, she finished packing her neat piles into the boxes and just as she finished taping up the last one, she suddenly realised something. “Jemma?” But the atmosphere had returned to normal and the presence was gone. “Shit, Jemma. I forgot to tell you something. I was distracted by that bloody top, but I need to talk to you. Jemma?” The room remained silent and empty, and Alice realised that she had missed an opportunity to give her friend the message from the angel.

  Alice buckled down after that and, with the help of Abba Gold blaring from her speakers, she managed to finish packing up most of her belongings in the bedroom. The living room and kitchen were next, and Alice worked hard and tirelessly, focusing only on the job in hand. It was nearly dark by the time she taped up the last box, and it was only then that she realised that she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink all day. It was time to head home, she decided, although she did wonder whether the word ‘home’ was still relevant. Home to her didn’t mean the actual house, without him, it was just a house. No, home meant Jack, his genuine pleasure at seeing her walk through the front door, her nicking his tea and him her toast, and Casper jumping up onto the bed for a snooze just as her and Jack were getting intimate!

  When she pushed open the front door, a short time later, she was greeted by the delicious smell of something cooking. “Hi!” she called, tentatively.

  Jack appeared from the kitchen, with two glasses of wine in his hands. “Hi Beautiful,” he smiled, handing her a glass of ice cold Pinot Grigio. Alice smiled her thanks, and took a sip of the crisp cold wine. It was delicious, and s
he felt her tension ease away as she took another sip. She put the glass down and put her arms around him, hugging him close to her, savouring the faint smell of his aftershave, mixed with a strong smell of chopped onions. “Sorry about yesterday,” he said, softly. “I wanted to say sorry last night when I got in, but you were asleep.”

  “That’s okay. I was a bit grumpy myself,” she said. “I was worried that you were really pissed off with me, because you weren’t there this morning.”

  Jack smiled, looking very pleased with himself. “I was at work. I moved tomorrow’s interview to today so that we could spend the day together tomorrow. It’s Christmas Eve, and I thought we could go shopping together. How was work?”

  “Oh,” Alice felt herself go red. Shit, he had changed his interview so that he could spend the day with her tomorrow, and she had swapped her shift, thinking that he wasn’t going to be around. “Actually, I didn’t go to work today. I swapped shifts, so I’m going in tomorrow instead, I thought you were here today and that we could go shopping together. I didn’t know where you were this morning, so I went to the flat to finish packing up. Sorry.” She watched Jack’s smile fade, and knew that he wasn’t happy. Shit, talk about crossed wires! When he didn’t say anything, she started babbling about Oscar’s silly belief about Glitz being cursed, and Dean’s plan to set their friend, Darren, up at the fake séance. The more she said, the deeper Jack’s frown became.

  “So you didn’t change your shift to be with me then. You changed it to go to this séance!”

  “No. Yes. I mean I wouldn’t have agreed to swap if I had known you were going to be here tomorrow.” She watched his face, waiting anxiously for a sign of a smile, but his expression remained stony. “I know. Why don’t you come with me? You could sit and chat to the customers, the atmosphere will be really festive, and you could drink loads of mulled wine, and then join the séance later.”

  “No thank you. I’ll have last minute shopping to do, I need to wrap presents, and will be busy preparing for Christmas Day. Basically, all the things I thought we’d be doing together.” With that he turned abruptly and headed back into the kitchen, leaving Alice alone, with the bitter smell of burnt onions hanging in the air.

  Chapter 20

  “Happy Christmas Eve,” said Alice, leaning over in the bed to give Jack a kiss. They had gone to bed in silence last night, their argument hanging over them, painfully unresolved. Any attempt by Alice to make conversation had been met with short, curt answers. It was now morning, and Alice hoped that he was in a better mood today.

  “Yeah, you too,” Jack replied, in a tone that told her that he was still pissed off. “What time are you going to work?”

  “My shift starts at eleven o’clock. Why don’t you walk me to work and we could stop off for breakfast at Belsize Park?” Take the bloody olive branch, she willed him.

  “Sorry, I won’t have time. I’ve decided to go into the West End, so I’ll need to leave early before it gets too busy.” He didn’t sound sorry, Alice thought, dejectedly. It sounded more like an excuse to get away as quickly as possible. With a sigh, and a very heavy heart, she got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. After a hurried shower, she quickly applied a touch of make-up, dried her hair and found a clean jumper from the ironing pile before making her way downstairs. She had decided in the shower that if it was that important to Jack that she didn’t go to work today, then she would ring Glitz and tell them she wasn’t coming in. They’d be furious as they were expecting to be busy today, and Alice would feel terrible about letting them down, but Jack came first.

  “Hey, I’m coming with you,” she said, cheerily, as she walked into the kitchen. But the room was empty and silent, except for the sound of Casper greedily slurping his breakfast. Alice was gutted, he hadn’t even waited for her to come down so they could say goodbye. Well fuck you, she thought, stomping back upstairs to change into her Glitz t-shirt. She was really pissed off now, why the hell was he behaving like a spoilt two year old? She was tempted to stay at Glitz overnight and gatecrash Oscar and Dean’s Christmas tomorrow. Ha, that would serve him right.

  Half an hour later she arrived at Glitz. The door was locked, but that was no surprise as she was nearly an hour early. She hadn’t felt like hanging around at the house, and thought that she might as well come in early and make herself useful. She rang the bell, discreetly hidden behind a sign, and almost immediately it was opened by Dean.

  “Hello there,” he said, looking surprised to see her. “You’re early, is everything alright?”

  “Fine.”

  “Okay. Well, now you’re here, you might as well join us for a coffee.”

  “Thanks.” Alice was close to tears, but she didn’t want Dean to see her upset, so she mumbled something about needing the loo, and hurried into the Ladies. She took a deep breath and willed herself not to cry, but just as she was pulling herself together, Oscar popped his head through the door.

  “Are you alright, Petal? Dean told me that you seemed a bit down.” The genuine kindness in his voice was the last straw and Alice burst into tears. “Hey, Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Oscar came all the way in and put his arms round her, letting her cry on his shoulder.

  Eventually, when she had no more tears left, she grabbed a bit of tissue and wiped her eyes. “Sorry about that,” she hiccupped.

  “That’s alright, Sweetie. I just hate to see you so upset.”

  “No, I mean about the black mascara I’ve just smudged all over your lovely white shirt,” she said, and managed a smile, albeit a wobbly one.

  “Never mind about that. So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” asked Oscar.

  “Me and Jack had a row. He’s pissed off with me for changing my shift today because he had plans for us, but I thought he was working today. He hadn’t told me that he had changed an appointment, so how the hell was I supposed to know?” She decided not to tell him about Jack’s remark about Dean, and also that she had been about to leave them in the lurch today. Instead she splashed cold water on her face and looked up at Oscar through the mirror. “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine now.”

  “Well, any time you want to talk, we’re here for you.” Oscar gave her a hug, took her hand and led her back into the restaurant where Dean was waiting with a concerned look on his face. “Alright?” he asked, handing her a freshly made latte.

  “Yes, thanks. I’m fine now. So what’s the plan for today?” she asked, eager to change to subject away from her.

  “Well, first we need an Abba fix,” grinned Oscar, and ran over to the CD player before Dean could get there first. As the first notes of Super Trouper filled the room, Oscar came back over and sat down next to Alice. “We’re fully booked today so that’ll keep you occupied,” he said. “Wow, imagine being able to say that we’re fully booked! Anyway, we’ll play lots of Christmas music and have a good laugh, just you see. We’ve decided to remain open all day and close a bit earlier than usual, we’ll play it by ear, but I’m hoping we can close by nine o’clock, which is when Darren’s coming. He really liked you by the way.” That made Alice feel even worse, Darren seemed like a really sweet guy, and her and Dean were about to set him up as a fake psychic. She glanced over at Dean who shrugged slightly, but didn’t say anything.

  Oscar was right, the restaurant was packed and the atmosphere was warm, friendly and noisy. Oscar had produced a huge jug of homemade mulled wine and several platefuls of mince pies to anyone who wanted them, and some of the regular customers brought cards and little gifts for them all. There was a slight lull at around four o’clock, but by five it was busy again, and it remained busy until they closed the door to the last customer at half past nine. Darren had arrived early and had chipped in, helping to clear the tables and entertaining the customers with exaggerated ghost stories.

  “Phew, what a day,” sighed Dean as he helped himself to a large glass of wine. “Happy Christmas, guys!”

  “So, Darren, are you going to do this séance for us the
n?” asked Oscar, excitedly.

  Darren looked thoughtful for a minute before replying. “Yes, but this isn’t the right atmosphere for a séance. There’s been so much noise and positive energy here today that I don’t think a séance would work. How about I just do a reading, you know, I walk around, listening to what the soul of the place tells me and I’ll feed it back to you.”

  “Sounds good,” said Dean, looking completely serious. “Make yourself at home.”

  Alice was disappointed that Darren wasn’t going to hold a séance. Even though she knew he probably wasn’t a genuine psychic, and that the séance would most likely have been pointless, she had secretly hoped that it might have been an opportunity for other spirits to voice their presence. Spirits like Jemma, perhaps? Forcing a smile, she nodded her agreement with Oscar and Dean.

  They all watched as Darren walked around quietly, every now and then closing his eyes as if he was concentrating on something specific, before continuing his walk around. He went from the restaurant, into the kitchen and even upstairs to the flat for a while. Oscar followed him around like an eager puppy, waiting impatiently for his conviction about the curse to be confirmed. Dean and Alice watched quietly from their table, and at one point Dean winked at Alice as Darren raised his face to the ceiling, and made a strange noise, his eyes shut and arms outstretched. Alice had to admit it did look a bit comical and smiled back at Dean.

  “Right,” said Darren, eventually and headed back toward the table.

  “Here we go,” whispered Dean, quietly.

  When they were all seated again, Darren looked at each one of them in turn before settling his gaze on Oscar. “I’ve been looking out for any signs of a businessman who may have been murdered here, and possibly the smell of tobacco,” Dean and Alice exchanged a quick glance, “but I’m afraid I haven’t been able to come up with anything.”