Every Touch

by Parke, Nerika

  The first person Laila made an appointment with was a woman called Angela Appleby. She had an impressive and very professional looking website with a long list of credentials and many testimonials from delighted customers. In spite of his doubts, Denny felt hopeful when Laila opened the door to the middle-aged woman with a neat blonde bob and a light blue dress and matching jacket. She looked professional. She looked like she knew what she was doing.

  “She’s here,” she said as soon as she walked into the flat.

  “Who’s here?” Laila said.

  “Your grandmother, Madeleine. She’s here.”

  Angela was gazing around the living room, eyes half closed as if she were sensing mysterious things. Denny caught himself looking around, just in case.

  She smiled benevolently. “She says she loves you very much.”

  Laila wasn’t stupid and neither was he. He knew it wouldn’t take much research to find out that her grandmother had died a year before and her name was Madeleine.

  “Really?” Laila said. “Well, that’s nice, but I didn’t ask you here for her.”

  A brief moment of uncertainty flashed across Angela’s perfectly made up face. Apparently, Laila’s mother’s mother was as far as her research had gone.

  “Of course,” she said, “so what can I help you with today?”

  “Are there any other ghosts here?”

  “It’s possible,” she said slowly, “although it’s mostly Madeleine I’m getting. Her presence is very strong. Would you like to speak with her?”

  “I’d rather not,” Laila said, “we weren’t that close.”

  Denny grinned. Laila had spoken a lot about her beloved Nana who she adored. It was a clever move to throw the medium off her game.

  “Oh,” Angela said, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I bet you are,” Denny said.

  “So, about other ghosts?” Laila said.

  “Of course. I will attempt to see past your grandmother’s overwhelming presence.” She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath in. Her hands raised to either side. “Those in the hidden realms, reveal your presence,” she commanded.

  Denny glanced around again, despite knowing nothing would happen. She had such an air of confidence about her it was hard not to believe her.

  “Right here,” he said, wafting a hand through one of hers as it hovered near her shoulder. “Ghost in the room.”

  “No,” she said finally, opening her eyes again and smiling, “there are no other spirits present.”

  “Okay, well, thanks for coming...”

  “I could do you a reading...”

  According to her website, readings were charged as extras on top of her useless ghost whispering.

  “No, thank you.”

  “Perhaps you would like...”

  “No. Thank you.”

  “Just take the hint and leave,” Denny said, mildly annoyed.

  When she was finally out and Laila had closed the door behind her, Denny slipped his arms around her waist from behind. She laid her head back against his shoulder.

  “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised,” she said, “but I was hoping.”

  He tapped her wrist once. “So was I.”

  ***

  Over the following two weeks, an assortment of mediums, psychics and pseudo-scientific researchers came to the flat.

  A tall, thin man who called himself a ‘seer into the beyond’ announced that the bath contained a portal into the realm of the dead and for a very reasonable fee he could close it.

  A short woman with an orange perma-tan swept into the room with histrionic exaggeration and said dramatically, “Spirit, I command you to expose yourself.” Denny erupted into laughter as Laila clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mirth. Laila used the same line to him when they went to bed that night. It was more than ten minutes before they could stop laughing.

  A “spirit scientist” peered at a gadget covered with flashing red lights, watching the screen intently as he moved around the flat. Eventually, he wandered back to Laila, unknowingly pointing the beeping box straight at Denny beside her. It had no reaction whatsoever.

  “No,” he said firmly, “you have no ghosts here at all. I’m absolutely positive on that. I’d stake my reputation on it.”

  A man dressed like an accountant gave them a spark of hope, (“I’m feeling a presence. Yes, a very strong presence. There is undoubtedly an apparition roaming within these walls. Yes, it’s coming through now. It’s...”) before snuffing it out (“...a little old Scottish woman called Enid.”). Denny closed his eyes and dropped his head onto Laila’s shoulder.

  A few of those who came had actually done their homework and suggested that Denny was haunting the flat, but when pushed further, which included him jumping up and down and screaming in their faces, obviously had no real idea what they were talking about.

  It wasn’t looking good.

  ***

  “She’s going to be here soon,” Laila said.

  Denny groaned against the skin of her neck where he was pressing languid kisses beneath her ear as they relaxed on the sofa together. He couldn’t take many more useless, fake, so called mediums. Each time one of them left he could see Laila’s hope fading a little bit more. And as her hope faded, so did his. He hated seeing the look of disappointment on her face. All he wanted was her happiness, and now he was seeing it less and less.

  “Are we doing the right thing?” she said.

  He lifted his face from her neck to look at her.

  “I mean, maybe this is the wrong way to go. Maybe there is something else...” She trailed off. They’d gone over it time and time again. She knew as well as he did that they were doing everything they could think of.

  He sat up, pulling her with him, and encircled her in his arms. She melted into his embrace the way she always did. It was the most incredible sensation as her body fit into his, almost becoming one with him. He wanted to feel like this forever.

  “No, it will work,” he said, stroking her hair. “It has to.”

  He knew she couldn’t hear his words, but she could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke and he knew she understood. She had developed an almost supernatural ability to know what he was saying even without hearing him.

  She nodded her head against his chest. “We can’t give up,” she said. “I won’t give you up.”

  He smiled and held her tighter. “We won’t give up.”

  The intercom buzzed and Denny stood with her as she went to answer, keeping his arms around her, unwilling to let go.

  Laila kept the receiver away from her ear so he could hear. “Hello?”

  “Madam Crystala, here for our appointment.”

  “Yes, come on up.”

  Laila pressed the button to open the building door and then turned around and surprised Denny with a deep, passionate kiss that left him panting.

  “Whatever happens, I don’t want to mope tonight,” she said. “As soon as she’s gone, I want to make love to you. I want to have hot, crazy, sweaty, dirty sex until we both pass out with deeply satisfied smiles on our faces. Okay?”

  Denny couldn’t breathe. He was slightly worried his knees were about to give way. Lifting a trembling finger to her wrist, he tapped once and then laughed. He really hoped this one didn’t take long.

  She smiled and reached up to him again as a knock sounded on the door. He groaned as she stepped back and quickly adjusted his jeans so he could walk. If this one overstayed her welcome, he was going to pick her up and throw her out the door himself.

  Sliding his arm around Laila’s waist, they walked to the door together. He really wasn’t expecting much this time. Madam Crystala? The name didn’t exactly inspire serious consideration. He nuzzled his face into Laila’s neck and she giggled. The sound shot straight to his core as more blood diverted to his groin. No, this definitely was not going to take long. Madam Crystala could deliver her fake spiel then get lost. That was all there was to it.


  Laila opened the door, Denny’s arm still around her waist.

  “I am Madam Crystala, seer into the beyond. Whatever you require of the spirit world, I can be your facilitator and your guide... Oh crap.”

  The fifty-something woman standing in the doorway, looking like a cross between a fairground fortune teller and Stevie Nicks, stared at Denny. Not next to him or through him, but at him.

  “I hate the real ones.” She pushed past into the flat and turned to face them, arms crossed. “So what do you want me to do?” she said to Laila. “I can do a full exorcism, but it’s pricey and messy. If it’s just the over-familiarity you don’t like, I can bar him from the flat.”

  “Bar me from the flat?” he said, “I bloody live here!”

  She frowned. “And you can watch your language.” The last sentence was directed right in Denny’s direction.

  His mouth dropped open. Had they finally found someone? He couldn’t believe it. His arm was wrapped so tightly around Laila’s waist his fingers were digging into her skin.

  “Can you see me?” he said.

  “Of course I can see you,” Madam Crystala said, “it does say so on the website.”

  “It says that on a lot of mediums’ websites. They’re lying.”

  She waved a hand dismissively. “Charlatans, the lot of them. Give the rest of us a bad name. They should be locked up.”

  “Denny?” Laila said. “Is she talking to you?”

  He lifted her hand and tapped her wrist yes and she caught her breath.

  “You can see and hear him?” she said to Madam Crystala.

  “Yes,” she said, speaking slowly and deliberately, as if she was addressing a child, “I can see and hear your ghost. Why is no-one getting the whole ‘I see dead people’ thing?”

  “I’m sorry,” Laila said immediately, “it’s just, we’ve had a lot of people here who claimed they could, but couldn’t.”

  “Hmm,” she said, “well, I am not one of them, which is why people are happy to pay a premium for my services.”

  Denny didn’t comment on that. He suspected she charged the same whether or not there was an actual ghost for her to deal with.

  Laila was holding onto his shirt and he looked down at her. There were tears in her eyes.

  “Denny,” she whispered, leaning her head against his chest.

  He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tremble as she clung to him. He looked at Madam Crystala.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “but we were beginning to think we’d never find anyone. It’s been hard on both of us.”

  She looked at them both for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes. “Oh great, the ghost’s in love. If you two tell me you want me to officiate your wedding or help you conceive a child, I’m going to vomit. Then I’m going to leave.” She went to the armchair and sat, leaning back, stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing her red leather ankle boots. “I could do with a drink. Got any scotch?”

  Denny frowned at her. This was who their whole future depended on? If she said anything else insensitive to upset Laila he was going to tell her where to get off. Feeling Laila shaking in his arms, he looked down to see her laughing.

  “Why are you laughing?” he said in bemusement.

  “He wants to know why you’re laughing,” Madam Crystala said from the armchair. “And I don’t appear to be holding a scotch yet.”

  Laila looked up. “I... she’s...” She shook her head, wiping her eyes and still chuckling. “Never mind.” She patted his chest and walked toward the woman on the chair. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any alcohol in the flat, but I can get you water or lemonade? Tea? Coffee?”

  The medium made a face. “No. Never mind. So, are either of you going to tell me why I’m here?”

  Laila sat down on the sofa and Denny went to sit beside her, taking her hand.

  “Madam Crystala...” Laila began.

  “Crystal,” she said. “The name’s Crystal Brown. The Madam Crystala crap is just for the airy fairy hippy types.”

  Laila nodded. “Crystal. I’m Laila and this is Denny and we need help. Real help, from someone who knows about these things.”

  Crystal grinned, seeming to perk up at that. “Finally,” she said, “someone who doesn’t want me to contact their dead cat. I know just about everything there is to know about the beyond. What do you need?”

  Denny felt Laila’s fingers tighten around his. “So you know about the limit on the time they can remain before they vanish?”

  “You mean the fading? Of course I know.”

  “We want to know how to stop it happening to Denny. We want to stay together.”

  “Not possible,” Crystal shrugged, “it happens to all spirits. It’s just the natural order of things.”

  Denny’s heart sank and he looked at Laila.

  “Please,” she begged, “there must be a way. We don’t want to lose each other. We can’t lose each other. I’ll do anything.”

  Her eyes shone with tears and he put his arm around her, trying to comfort her through his despair.

  Crystal looked at both of them for a while. “There’s no way to stop the fade,” she held her hand up when Laila started to protest, “but there may be another way. But only if you’re serious.”

  Laila sat forward. “Please. Anything.”

  Crystal leaned back in the chair and looked off to one side, appearing as if she were trying to remember something.

  “I’ve never seen this done. Well, I’ve never even heard of it actually working. But there is a story that it may be possible to bring a ghost back to life.”

  He heard Laila gasp and he stared at Crystal in disbelief. “I could live again?”

  “I repeat, this is only a story I’ve heard. No-one, as far as I know, has tried it in decades. Possibly centuries. I don’t even know if it has ever worked. It would be a long shot at best.”

  “What would we have to do?” Laila said.

  Denny heard hope in her voice. He was trying to process the idea. There was a chance he could live again. He’d never even entertained the possibility. The most he had hoped for was to stay with Laila. But to have another chance to live his life, with her? It was too much to wish for.

  “I’ll have to do some more research,” Crystal was saying. “From what I can recall, it’s a complicated ritual that needs the co-operation of the dead and the living, including family members. You have to be willing to give up anything and do whatever it takes. That kind of situation doesn’t come up too often.”

  “I am,” Laila said without hesitation, “anything that needs to be done, I’ll do it.”

  Denny frowned. “Family members?”

  “The blood of a close relative is part of the ritual.” She laughed at his horrified expression. “I don’t mean you have to kill them or anything. Just a pint or two is enough. I’d have to check the exact requirements. So, are you in?”

  “Yes,” Laila said immediately, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  He nodded. “Me too. Anything.”

  Laila turned towards him, her face shining with enthusiasm. It made his heart leap. He hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed.

  “Okay,” Crystal said, standing, “a restoration ritual.” She headed for the door as they followed. “By the way,” she said, “I hope you realise this won’t be cheap.”

  “I didn’t for a second imagine it would be,” Denny said, eliciting a glare.

  “Whatever it takes,” Laila said.

  Crystal looked at her. “You are far nicer than he deserves. Are you sure you want to go through with this? You could just move out.”

  Denny couldn’t tell if she was joking or not so he glared at her anyway.

  Laila smiled. “I’m sure.”

  “Well, I suppose you can’t choose who you fall for,” she said. “I’ll do the research and get back to you tomorrow.”

  As soon as she’d left, Laila threw her arms around Denny’s neck, laughing. He lifted her into th
e air and she squealed. Her laughter made Denny feel like he was floating above the ground. Whatever happened, it was worth anything just to see her so happy again.

  “Alive,” she said, her voice awestruck as she leaned against his chest. “You will get to live again. And I’ll get to see you. And hear you. I never even thought I would get that chance.” She grinned up at him. “We should celebrate.”

  “And how would you like to do that?” he said, taking her hand and tracing a question mark onto her palm with his fingertip.

  She took his hand and backed away, smiling. “Remember that hot, sweaty, dirty sex I was talking about?” she said, raising her eyebrows and biting her lower lip.

  Every part of his anatomy was suddenly remembering the hot, sweaty, dirty sex she’d been talking about.

  He shouted, “I love this woman!” as, grinning like a Cheshire cat, he followed her to the bedroom.

  Thirty-Five

  Crystal Brown returned the next day, arriving before Laila got home from the library.

  It was beyond awkward as she sat in the armchair, clearly unhappy at both the continued lack of any alcohol in the flat and Denny’s continued presence.

  She didn’t like him, that much was clear. But, to be fair, he didn’t like her either. She seemed to like Laila, but then Laila was a likeable person. He always thought he was too, but it had been a long time since he’d had to test that theory out. Maybe five years of only speaking to two people had made him anti-social without him realising. Or maybe Crystal was just a deeply unpleasant person. Denny decided to go with that option. They needed her, however, so he decided to try to find a way to soften her opinion of him.

  “So,” he said after the silence had passed the point of awkward and wandered into acutely uncomfortable, “when did you realise you could see ghosts?”