He was woken by the feel of soft lips on his cheek. He opened his eyes, looking sleepily at Laila who was sitting next to him. There was nothing he loved more than waking up and seeing her face. He took her hand and kissed her palm.
“Hello sleepy,” she said, smiling.
“Hello beautiful,” he replied, touching her face then sliding his fingers into her hair and pulling her to him.
When their lips parted, he took the pad and pen from the end table beside him.
How was shopping?
“It was okay. I only got a few things. Actually, I went somewhere else too.”
Denny looked at her sitting beside him. She seemed to be almost nervous.
Oh?
She nodded. “I hope what I did was okay. I didn’t want to tell you before, in case it didn’t work out. But I thought you would want to see them.”
He noticed for the first time that she was holding her phone in one hand. She worked on it for a few seconds, then handed it to him.
His curiosity burning, he watched the moving image playing on the screen. It was a little blurry at first, looked like a kid by a car in a driveway, then the picture zoomed in and focused and he gasped. His hands began to shake as he watched Jay walk around the car in what he now recognised was Trish and John’s driveway. Then Trish got out the car and tears began to roll down his face. He couldn’t help but smile when Jay trudged back to the car. He’d grown up so much. And Trish looked so good. He hoped she was happy. She looked happy.
The video came to an end and he took a deep, shuddering breath, looking at Laila.
“Is it okay?” she asked. “You don’t mind that I kind of went a bit stalkerish? You miss them so much and I wanted to...”
She stopped as he wound his arms around her and held onto her tight, the tears still sliding down his cheeks.
“Thank you,” he said, “thank you so much.”
He kissed her, wiped at his face and, keeping one arm around her, replayed the video of Trish and Jay, watching it over and over again.
“I wish they could somehow know you’re here,” Laila said, when he finally put the phone down.
Denny picked up the pen. This is more than I ever thought I would see. It’s enough. Thank you so much. I love you.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “We can upload it to your laptop, then you can watch it bigger.”
He kissed her temple and nodded so she could feel it, wrapping his arms around her again. She lifted her face and he leaned into her, lightly brushing their noses so she knew he was there as he brought his lips toward hers.
The intercom buzzer sounded. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, smiling ruefully. That thing had the worst timing.
Laila giggled. “I swear it does that on purpose.”
He chuckled as she got up and went to answer it.
“Hello?”
When there was no response, Denny got up from the sofa.
“Hello Olly,” she said, “he’s on his way down.”
He gave her a quick hug, kissing the side of her neck, then carried on through the door. When he reached the lobby, Oliver was by the door as usual. Denny immediately knew something was wrong. His friend looked uncomfortable, nervous even, pacing back and forth. His usual jovial smile was missing.
“What’s wrong?” Denny said as he reached the door.
Oliver stopped pacing and looked at him. Denny was wrong, he didn’t look nervous. He looked terrified.
“I...” Oliver paused, looking at the ground.
“Oliver, what is it?” Denny was scared now.
He took a deep breath. “It’s started.” His reply was so quiet Denny could barely hear it through the glass.
Denny frowned, not understanding. “What’s started?”
Without speaking, Oliver raised his left hand. Denny stared at it, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. He was about to ask again when it happened. He drew his breath in sharply. The little finger of Oliver’s hand had flickered, just for a second, fading in and out rapidly then solidifying again. Oliver dropped his hand to his side.
Denny felt like the ground had opened up beneath him. For a while, he couldn’t even speak.
“Olly, I...” he stopped. He didn’t know what to say. What could he possibly say to the revelation that his best friend was about to die, again?
“I knew I was on borrowed time,” Oliver said, still staring at the ground. “I’ve been here almost six years. But it’s still...” he trailed off and shrugged.
Without saying anything, Denny sank to the floor and sat, his legs crossed. Oliver sat down on the step next to the door and leaned his back against the glass, watching the people go by on the street. And there they stayed, just talking, about anything that came into their minds. Oliver talked a little about what was happening to him, but not much and Denny didn’t push him. He could tell he was afraid. He thought about what he would want if it had been him and he decided the best thing he could do was be there for his friend. So he was.
Thirty-One
Denny closed the piano lid, sitting back on the stool and smiling.
Two hours of hard work, working on his first composition, felt satisfying. He’d been thinking for some time about giving writing his own music a go and, having watched several YouTube tutorials on the subject, he was now trying it out. Admittedly, he still had some way to go, Mozart wasn’t going to need to worry about the competition any time soon, but he was happy with what he’d achieved so far.
He’d used love songs so many times on dates to set the mood, but he’d never been inspired to write one before. But now, thanks to Laila, he had his own piano and it was her twenty-ninth birthday in two months. He wanted to do something special for her, hence the title of his first ever song, “For Laila”. Or “Laila’s Song”. Or something more original he hoped to be able to come up with. The title seemed to providing him with more creative problems than the actual music.
He picked up the paper he’d been writing his masterpiece on, folded it in half and carefully slid it into the pages of one of his more advanced music books where Laila would be highly unlikely to look. He couldn’t wait to see the joy on her face when he played her the finished piece. Making her smile made him happier than he’d ever thought possible.
A noise from the door drew his attention. It sounded like a key working the lock. But it was the middle of the day and Laila was at work, so unless something was wrong she shouldn’t be here.
He stood up, waking towards the door. Despite knowing that whoever was trying to get in couldn’t hurt him, his heart rate climbed. He guessed it was just hardwired into his psyche to be afraid in such circumstances. But whoever he had been expecting to walk through the door when it opened, it wasn’t who did.
Laila’s sister, Kelly, walked into the flat, turned and checked the corridor outside, then closed the door. She dropped the key into her pocket and looked around, eventually choosing the bedroom.
Denny followed her and watched as she began to rifle through the chest of drawers, wondering what she could be looking for. It made him extremely uncomfortable. He knew she had a key to the flat. It had made sense for Laila before she met him that someone else should in case she got locked out somehow, but he had never known Kelly to come in when Laila wasn’t around. She didn’t even use her key when Laila knew she was coming, always using the intercom so that Laila would let her in.
At first he wondered if Laila had sent her to get something, but he discounted that idea almost immediately. He knew she would have sent him a text to let him know Kelly was coming if that had been the case. Besides which, Kelly’s seemingly unfocused search was too haphazard, as if she didn’t know what she was looking for. Her blatant invasion of Laila’s privacy was an unpleasant betrayal to witness.
When she apparently didn’t find whatever she was searching for in any drawers or cupboards, she switched her attention to Denny’s laptop which was lying on the dining table where he’d left it
after watching a few videos on chord structure. Kelly looked at it, then at Laila’s laptop on the sofa, and frowned, obviously wondering why there were two in the flat. She opted for his first, sitting at the table, opening the lid and turning it on. He was suddenly glad it was password protected. He hadn’t really seen the point at first since he’d told Laila what his password was anyway. Now he did.
She frowned at the appearance of the password screen. After trying a few different words, she gave up and turned it off again, moving onto the sofa. He wondered if Laila had ever told her sister her password. She’d told him. It quickly became obvious she hadn’t when Kelly’s frown returned.
She closed the computer and looked around. It was then that Denny noticed the pad in which he’d been writing when he talked to Laila. It was on the end table next to the sofa, but partially hidden beneath a magazine and Kelly obviously hadn’t seen it. But it was only a few feet from her and he knew it was only a matter of time before she noticed. There was no way he would be able to move it without her seeing. He needed a distraction. He looked around, and his gaze settled on the door.
With a final glance at Kelly to make sure she still hadn’t discovered the pad’s presence, he stepped out into the corridor and knocked loudly on the door. He walked back inside in time to see Kelly leap up, staring nervously at the door. She crept towards it and turned her head, listening. Denny ran to the table, slipped the pad from beneath the magazine and thrust it under the sofa, all within the space of a couple of seconds, then looked back at Kelly. Attention focused on the door, she didn’t seem to have noticed him. He breathed a sigh of relief.
“Why are you here?” he said to her as she crept closer to the door and looked through the spy hole. “What are you looking for?”
The more he thought about it, the more it bothered him. He was going to have to tell Laila about it and he could imagine how upset she was going to be. He’d seen Kelly a lot since Laila moved in and she seemed to be a nice person. She and Laila were close, as close as he and Trish had been. He couldn’t think why she would be doing this.
Eventually, Kelly gave up her search and departed, leaving Denny alone to wonder what was going on.
Thirty-Two
It was a pleasant day in mid July and the wooden seat of the bench outside the library had warmed in the sunshine. Laila sat down and crossed her legs, watching the people walk by on the pavement twenty feet in front of her. A man walked up the few steps in front of her, heading across the area in front of the library doors where the group of benches sat, and smiled. She smiled back politely and looked away, digging into her bag for her phone, not wanting to risk encouraging a conversation.
She fired off a quick text. [You there?]
The reply came back almost immediately. [Hello beautiful. How was work?]
Laila smiled at Denny’s greeting. [OK. I missed you though.]
[Me too]
[I’m going to be a bit late home]
[Oh?]
The phone was pulled from her grasp before she could answer. As it hovered next to her, words began to appear on the screen. [I have a date to go for a walk with a devastatingly handsome ghost, so don’t wait up. In fact I’m thinking of leaving you for him]
There was a pause before the reply came back. [FU Olly]
Laila laughed and took her phone back, pushing Oliver’s shoulder next to her. [I’ll be home in a while. I love you]
[I love you too beautiful. Could you give the phone back to Laila now.]
She dissolved into giggles and held the phone out for Oliver to see, feeling him shaking with laughter next to her. [Haha! Later.]
Oliver took her hand and stood, pulling her up with him.
He had texted her earlier in the day while she was working, asking if she would like to go for a walk in the park. They often spent time together, sometimes texting back and forth as they walked, and Laila thought of him as a good friend. But since he started to fade five days before, Oliver had wanted to go for walks every day. She knew he wanted the company and she didn’t at all mind providing it. He was spending more time with Denny too and Laila could see his pain every time he returned to the flat after talking with his friend. Both of them were going to be devastated when Oliver left. The inevitability was the hardest thing to deal with. Accepting what was going to happen was more difficult than she could have imagined.
She squeezed his hand and they headed down the few steps to the pavement, turning right in the direction of the park a few streets away.
“Laila!”
She turned at the sound of her name being called to see Kelly’s car pulling up alongside her. Releasing Oliver’s hand, she moved in closer to the open driver’s window.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping I’d catch you,” her sister said. “I wondered if you’d like to go and get a coffee.”
“Sorry, I can’t, I have something to do. Could we do it tomorrow?”
“Well, actually, I was hoping we could talk.” Kelly looked awkward and Laila was immediately on alert.
“What about? Is something wrong?”
“No,” she said, her expression saying the complete opposite. “But I do really want to talk to you.”
“Kelly, you’re acting kind of weird.”
“Please, could we just go somewhere and talk?”
Laila began to get angry. She wanted to walk with Oliver. He needed her. “I told you, I have something I have to do. Either tell me what’s going on or I’m leaving.” She folded her arms and attempted to stare her sister down, just like she used to when they were children and Kelly was trying to get her own way. This time, just as then, it didn’t work.
“Okay, then I will see you tomorrow.” She turned and walked a few paces away from the car.
“It’s about Denny.”
Laila stopped abruptly and turned to look at Kelly. “What about him?”
Kelly opened her mouth then looked at the people passing. She closed it again. Laila turned away.
Kelly had tried more than once to get more information out of her about Denny, despite her assurances that she trusted her. When Laila had refused to tell her anything, her frustration was obvious. Laila knew she was worried about her, but Kelly had a history of trying to direct Laila’s life in the direction she thought it should go and that had become worse since Gary. She knew Kelly was trying to help, in her own way, but it was getting to be too much. Kelly’s uninvited visit to the flat two days before was just about the last straw. Now she was losing her patience, especially with Oliver needing them now.
She started to walk away.
“I know he’s dead.”
Laila stopped, nervousness rippling through her gut. She felt Oliver’s hand on her arm.
“What are you talking about?” she said, turning back.
Kelly got out of the car and walked up to her. “Please, just come home with me. We’ll have dinner and talk. Please.”
There were times when Kelly’s stubborn nature had been good for Laila. And there were times, like now, when it drove her crazy. She knew she wasn’t going to give up.
“Fine,” she said, a little too bitingly, “I’ll be there in a moment.” Waiting for Kelly to get back into her car, Laila turned her back and pretended to be texting.
“I’m sorry, Olly,” she said softly, “but I know my sister and she isn’t going to go away. I promise I’ll walk with you tomorrow. Can you tell Denny I’ll be back as soon as I get her off my ass?”
An arm encircled her shoulders and she felt a kiss on her cheek. She had to fight back sudden tears.
“Thank you. Tomorrow, the park and anywhere else you want to go. I promise.”
He squeezed her hand and then his touch was gone. She walked back to the car and climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door harder than she needed to and not saying anything. She was too busy imagining Oliver watching as they pulled away, thinking about how she was losing some of the precious little time she had left with
her friend.
The drive to Kelly’s house was quiet. Laila was fuming and made no attempt to hide it. At least her sister had the sense to not talk to her.
“Where’s Jack?” Laila said as soon as they got to the house. Kelly’s fiancé was usually home from his job in IT at the hospital where Kelly worked by this time.
“He’s visiting his parents for a couple of days,” she said. “Are you hungry?”
“No.” Laila didn’t want to prolong the visit. She folded her arms and glared at Kelly. “Just tell me why you practically kidnapped me off the street to get me here.”
“Would you at least sit down?”
Kelly sat on the black leather sofa and patted the seat next to her. Laila stalked over to an armchair and sat there instead. She was so furious now she didn’t trust herself to not throttle her sister from such a close distance.
“You know I love you...” she began.
“Come on, Kelly, just say what you have to say.”
Kelly sighed. “I did some research and I found some things.”
“What things?” Laila’s heart was thudding in her chest. What had Kelly found out? Surely she couldn’t know about Denny.
“I found that a man used to live in your flat whose name was Dennis Carpenter. People called him Denny. And about five years ago he was murdered in your bedroom.”
“So?”
“So you admit you knew this?”
“Of course I knew. The neighbours told me.”
“You told me you are in love with a man called Denny.”
Laila rolled her eyes. “There is more than one Dennis in the world, Kelly.”
“So you’re saying it’s a coincidence?”
“Yes, that’s what I’m saying.” Laila tried to mask her nervousness with annoyance. That couldn’t be all Kelly had.
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