by Jane Tara
He nodded and disappeared out the back. Rhi held a chair, shaking her head to draw strength. She had to get through this. Yes, he was going, but that wouldn’t happen if she lost it now.
“I hope you’ve saved seats for us.”
Rhi spun around and found her parents standing in the doorway. She ran to her father and hugged him. “I wasn’t sure you would come.”
“Wild horses wouldn’t keep us away, love.” Lugh looked at his wife. “Right Brigid?”
Brigid stepped tentatively up to her daughter. “Perhaps wild horses, but certainly not family arguments. Those can be healed.”
Rhi hugged her mother. It was awkward, but a start. “It means a lot to me. And to Kip. I’ll introduce you to him.”
Brigid shot Lugh a look. “No need, Rhi. We’ve met.”
“You knew Kip too?”
Lugh took his daughter by the arm and led her away. “Long story, and we’ll explain later, but how about we catch up alone while your mother attends to some long overdue business?”
*
Crystal sat on the sofa in Kip’s dressing room, her hands clutched in her lap.
“But what if it happens again?” Kip had a look of dread on his face.
“Even if the ceiling falls on you, darling, it’s not like it can kill you again.”
“But what if I don’t cross over?” He looked at Crystal like she was the font of all knowledge.
“If you want to, you will.” Crystal felt the weight of his fear, her heart heavy. “You do want to cross over, don’t you?”
He came to kneel in front of her. “I do. I’m tired of this. The only thing keeping me here is you, but we’ll be together again, won’t we?”
“I believe so, Kip. It’s that thought that has kept me going for three decades.”
He smiled at her, his eyes filled with love. “You have been the one true and real thing in my life. And my death,” He chuckled. “If I don’t cross over tonight, it won’t be because of you.”
Crystal stood. “Actually there’s something you need to know.”
“What, Cryssie?”
“She wants you to know that if you don’t cross over it will be because of me,” said Brigid’s voice as she flung open the door. The woman had a grander entrance than Harrods.
Kip flew up to the roof. “Who the fuck invited you?”
“It’s my daughter’s theater and you didn’t memo her to keep me off the guest list.”
“You really are the devil’s daughter. Look at your face. How can you not age? You’re like a fucking vampire.”
“Says my dead ex-lover, as if talking to him is completely normal.” Brigid shot Crystal a look, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised.
Crystal was surprised to see compassion in her eyes. She’d forgotten that it ever resided in Brigid.
“Crystal came to me recently to ask me to lift the curse. I initially refused, because I prefer to err on the side of bitch. But then I thought, poor bastard, you’ve suffered enough, right?”
“I think I have.” Kip sounded nervous.
Brigid reached into her purse and pulled out two peacock feathers. Then, holding one in each hand, she marched to the center of the room and began to moan.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kip stuttered.
“Lifting the curse. Now shut up while I work.” Brigid gave Crystal a sly wink. “Demon forces, hear me now…Begone this curse, release my vow…Free this ghoul, let him pass…even though he was an ass…”
Crystal bowed her head and bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh. What the hell was Brigid doing?
“Curse be broken, from now, tonight…Let thy spirit find the light. Break this curse, and set Kip free…This limbo has been the cause of me. But now, tonight, on that there stage…Kip Daniels will pass to the next age.”
Brigid shook her head a little more, and waved the feathers around, stamped her feet and bit and pulled a face that looked strangely sexual. And then, with one wild, yodeling yelp, she flung the feathers to the sky and stood still as they fluttered down around her. She scooped them up, put them back in the bag, and straightened her skirt.
“You’re free now, Kip. Enjoy the show.” She turned to leave.
“Brigid,” Crystal said. “Thank you.”
“You’d do the same for me.” She looked at Crystal for a moment and then up at Kip. “The life I have with Lugh…I can’t imagine having that torn away from me, the way you two did. I’ll leave you alone now.”
Brigid closed the door quietly behind her and Kip floated down to Crystal. His face was beaming.
“I feel it, Cryssie. It’s gone. The curse has been lifted.”
“Yes it has.” She felt it too.
Chapter 46
The Majestic was even more beautiful than it had been in its heyday. The façade was now a brilliant white, the windows shining with light from within. The building looked alive, defiant in its elegance, as if to say, “You ran me into the ground with your fears and pain. But look what I’ve become again.” Rhi had done an amazing job.
Tad felt small, standing outside the theater, looking up at this grand dame. There was a feeling of déjà vu to the evening, and yet he was no longer five years old. He wasn’t vulnerable any more. Sure, it had taken courage to come tonight, but he was ready and it was time.
The performance had already begun inside–he could hear faint voices, theatrical shouts and muted screams, mood music and sound effects. He walked around the back, marveling at all the work that had taken place. He felt like he was being watched by the theater itself, as if it was allowing him the privilege of circling and admiring. He could almost sense the structure watching him for signs of remorse. He’d certainly let her fall to pieces. And Rhi had brought her back to life.
He slipped through the stage door. The place looked very different to how it had nearly thirty years ago. Then he spotted the silver star on his father’s dressing room door; some things never changed. There were a couple of people milling around—actors, watching the performances on stage. He noticed Tye on the other side of the wings, but she didn’t see him. She was sitting quietly by herself, head bowed, hands in her lap. He stepped behind a curtain, where he had a clear view. He was just in time to see the end. He’d planned it that way. It was one thing to sit through the whole play, struggling with his emotions, another to turn up and share this moment with Rhi. And his dad. He trusted Crystal enough to believe it was possible.
The stage was strewn with swords, chalices and the bodies of the King and Queen. He could see the first few rows of the audience from where he stood, and everyone seemed mesmerized.
He watched the actors talk to thin air. Was that his father they were talking to? Was he actually there? It was strange to watch, and made him highly uncomfortable. Horatio fell to his knees. He seemed to be cradling someone. Perhaps they were all just pulling his leg.
He glanced down at his hands…they were shaking. It was too soon for him to be back here. Perhaps another few decades. Yes, he was weak. Or at least that’s how he felt. He’d chosen to ignore this place, ignore it all, rather than relive what had happened that night exactly twenty-nine years ago. Exactly.
Damn Collette. He’d arrived in New York to confront her about Crystal and Tye. To his surprise, she’d apologized immediately.
“I’m so sorry. I’d do it differently now,” she’d said. “I’m glad you know.”
This had disarmed him. “You owe Crystal and Tye an apology.”
“I agree. And now this is out in the open, they’ll get one. I admire Crystal immensely for how she’s handled everything.”
Then there was nothing to do but mope around his mother’s place for a couple of weeks, occasionally visiting friends for the night. Finally, she’d snapped.
“Why are you still here?”
He had no idea himself, and it showed.
“Are you going to this play they’re putting on up there?” She’d let it be known that she thought it was weird, but as Shakespeare himself ha
d said, “There are more things in heaven and earth… Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
“I’m going to give it a miss this time ’round.”
“What about this woman you like?”
“How do you know there’s a woman?”
“It’s written all over you.” She challenged him, hands on her hips. “What are you so afraid of?”
He couldn’t answer her. He didn’t know.
“Christ, Tad, you know what I really loved about you father? He was a go-getter. He wouldn’t sit there bitching about his feelings for someone…He was a Neanderthal. When he liked a woman, he’d pretty much club her over the head. When he wanted a theater, he asked me for the cash and he bought one. When he became a dad—did he run for the hills? No. He not only embraced it, but he was the one who got up night after night, feeding you and singing you back to sleep. He was so goddamn present. Alive.”
“And now he’s been stuck in that theater for thirty years.”
“Yes, but he’s dead. What’s your excuse?”
His mother was right. He’d been frozen to this very spot in the theater for nearly three decades. He needed to move on too. And he couldn’t even fathom doing that without Rhi, despite everything that had happened between them. He felt someone watching him. He looked across the stage to the wings opposite and saw Tye. They locked eyes, their own silent language shared in one look, and he smiled.
And at that very moment, he heard his father’s voice.
“O, I die, Horatio.”
Tad’s head jerked back toward the stage. He saw a man lying in Horatio’s arms.
The final moments of the play took place. Horatio and Fortinbras finished their lines. The lights faded to black…there was a moment of awed silence…
And then the applause began.
Tye knew when Tad arrived. She sensed him. And right away, she knew she’d get through the night. She’d hung around feeling quite useless. She watched the play from the wings for a while, but her father remained invisible to her. So she found a seat, away from everyone, and waited for it all to end. It was like being by someone’s bedside, waiting for death to put everyone out of their misery. Each minute was endless, but not long enough.
Then Tad arrived. She made her way to the wings and watched him across the stage. She was so happy to see him, safe and sound. She saw him as she always had, as her brother, but more than that—her everything. He was her friend. Her creative partner. Her inspiration. Her sounding board. Her pain in the ass at times. She was blessed to have him. She knew him like she knew herself. And right now, he was struggling.
“I’m here Tad,” she whispered.
It was as though he could hear her. His looked up, away from the stage, directly at her. Their eyes locked and he smiled. It washed away the hurt, it made everything okay. It was never meant to be about ‘a father’—her journey was with her brother.
And at that very moment, she heard a voice.
“O, I die, Horatio.”
Tye’s head jerked toward the stage. She saw a man lying in Horatio’s arms.
The final moments of the play took place. Horatio and Fortinbras finished their lines. The lights faded to black…there was a moment of awed silence…
And then the applause began.
Chapter 47
Kip was filled with joy. He was performing again and it felt so good. Rhiannon had cast well. These actors were even better than the last lot he’d performed with. He was nervous, admittedly, but they were all with him, every step of the way. Including Chandler, who could suddenly see him.
It was tough as he closed in on his soliloquy. Line by line he drew nearer to the moment that had failed him before, but there was no way he’d let it beat him. Not this time.
He could feel the audience. If only actors knew how freaking fabulous it was performing to an audience of witches. They were sending him so much love and light and goodwill. He felt so alive!
And then, it was upon him.
“To be or not to be…”
He was there, back in this moment. There was no time to be confused, or fearful…He felt every word he spoke with passion and pain. He finished the soliloquy to cheers.
It was a piece of cake from there. And a thrill!
The play came to an end and there was a standing ovation for him. He stood center stage of his very own theater, just like he always knew he would. This was the moment he wanted. And it was his.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.”
He noticed someone watching him in the wings and realized Tad was standing there. He had returned for him. He knew he would. Tad was a man now, not the boy he was last time. This time he was confident and calm. And he was staring straight at him, as though he could see him. Kip smiled at his son and he smiled back…A nod—it’s okay to go.
Kip knew Tad would be fine. But there was one more person. Where was she? He scanned the wings. He looked down at the audience. And then he spotted her, at the front of the audience with Brigid at her side. Crystal did not clap. She did not cry. She locked eyes with him, held her hand to her heart and nodded goodbye.
And then he saw it, that intense, welcoming light. It was time. He had finished what he’d wanted to do.
The audience roared its approval. The clapping filled him. He took one more bow and, looking at no one but Crystal, he stepped into the light.
The final curtain descended on Kip Daniels.
Chapter 48
Rhi was alone on the stage. She could hear the audience still milling around in the foyer drinking wine. They had worked hard to raise the energy for Kip. What a gift they’d all given him. What a wonderful group of people. It made her oddly proud of her ancient faith. Many of them would soon head down to O’Reilly’s for the cast party, where even more spirits would be raised. Rhi would join them to celebrate. It was a success. And yet, she felt so deeply and profoundly sad. How long would it take for her to stop expecting him just to pop out from behind the curtains?
“Rhi?”
Rhi stepped back, startled. “Kip?”
He laughed. “No, it’s me, Tad…Do you want me to show you my ID?”
Rhi resisted the urge to throw herself into his arms. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You too Rhi.” He nodded at the theatre. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
“Thank you.” She peered into his face, concerned. “You’ve missed the play, Tad. He’s gone.”
“I caught the end from the wings.” He smiled, a mix of sadness and also relief. “This production ended better than last time.”
Rhi gave a wry chuckle. “Yes. I’m sure he’d approve.”
He looked deep into Rhi’s eyes. “I saw him, Rhi. I saw him go.”
The tears began to flow. “Oh shit, Tad… I’m sorry. It’s just…I’m going to miss him around here.”
“Then we’ll miss him together.” Tad moved toward her. “Don’t be sad.”
“I’m sad and happy.”
“You’re sappy.”
“I am sappy.”
They smiled at each other.
“He’s at peace,” Rhi said. “And I’m so glad you came for back him.”
“I came back for you.”
“Oh.” That threw her.
Tad pulled her up into his arms. “Tonight I’m letting go of the past. And I’m really hoping you’ll be part of my future.”
“Are you still evicting me?”
“Depends on how you answer my last question.”
“I’d very much like to be a part of your future.”
“Good answer. I’ll extend your lease.” Tad ran his fingers through her hair.
She couldn’t bear it a second longer. She needed him. “Can I have a rerun of that kiss on the beach?”
“Without the crazy afterward?”
“Definitely without that.”
And so he kissed her. But it was even better than the kiss on the beach. She was clear now. She knew who he was, no confus
ion, no misunderstanding. She wrapped her arms around him. Every sense exploded. She could smell him, taste him, touch him. He was real. She dissolved into him. There was no return. Everything that had happened had brought her to this moment.
And she felt so alive.
“If you two have finished your love scene up there, can we get this party started?” called Sam from the back of the room.
Rhi looked at Sam, his arm draped around Annie. Beside them were Tye and Finn. They all looked excited, ready to move on.
Rhi realized that’s how she felt now too.
“You know what I’m really looking forward to?” Tad whispered in her ear.
She raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Having a conversation with you where you don’t sound crazy.”
“I’m looking forward to having a conversation with you where you don’t act like two different people.”
Tad laughed. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to that.”
Rhi grabbed his hand and pulled him off the stage and toward the theater door. She paused as she got there, turning to look at her theater.
“I’m looking forward to it all.”
Acknowledgments
Thank you to the crew at Momentum for giving my book a home. It means a lot to me.
A heartfelt hug to Ulrike Sturm for getting me on a plane and putting me up in her wonderful artist’s studio, where I started Hamlet’s Ghost.
Thanks to my dear friends Lord David and Lord Mark for taking me out of Sydney to finish the book, and for protecting me from zombies while we were there. And to Steve Griffiths for letting me use his fabulous house as a writer’s retreat. Inspiration hit. Thank you.
As always, I’m grateful to my mother Yvonne Pfeiffer, whose support and love knows no bounds.
To RIOT… for understanding that dinner is ready when the fire alarm goes off and that I’d much rather be writing than cooking… thanks guys!
My guy, Dominique Sweeney: you have read, critiqued, and supported yet another novel. You’ve given me chocolate and wine when needed. You have enthusiastically embraced this genre despite the shit people heap on it. For months you shared our bed with a ghost—a fictional one at that. You understood completely why I fell in love with Kip and why I mourned him after he’d left me. You held my hand through it all. It’s no wonder I’m with you.