by S. C. Ransom
I tried to look suitably surprised and I thought I was doing well until my cover was completely blown by the guy at the front desk. Rob had leant in to give his name when the waiter caught my eye and beamed.
“Great to see you!” he exclaimed. “It’s been a while. How are you?”
“Oh, you know, exams.” I smiled, looking down quickly at my shoes.
“It’s a table for two, and the name’s Underwood,” Rob announced, clearly flustered.
“Right, here you are, and seeing as it’s you, let’s see if we can just rearrange things a little.” He got out his pencil and started crossing things out in his reservations book. “Got you somewhere nice and private now.” He winked at me and I felt myself go even pinker. He led us through the crowded restaurant to a great table in the corner, with beautiful leather chairs and next to one of the huge windows. We had clearly been upgraded.
I had never seen Rob at a loss for words before, and I found myself feeling sorry for him. “My parents come here a bit, and sometimes I come too. I’m surprised they remembered me, though.”
He seemed to relax a little. “Yeah, well, I guess your parents have reasonable taste then. Mine wouldn’t dream of coming to somewhere like this.”
“Oh, you know: most of the time they’re pretty dull, like most parents,” I said with a big smile. “So how did you come across this place?”
He was soon off in a complicated story about one of his friends who was in a band that had played there once. I carried on with the nodding and appreciative noises. Really, this guy could talk, I thought. A wicked idea crossed my mind, and I considered it quickly as he droned on about the band I didn’t know: I wondered if I could keep him talking all night without imparting a single piece of information about myself. It was a game that Grace and I played occasionally and it worked really well with some of the girls at school. All I had to do was sound interested and ask questions, and he would keep going.
He turned out to be almost too easy to direct for the game to be fun. We talked for hours, and I found out all sorts of things about his family, his last holiday, what he thought of the other guys in his class, and a whole lot more. He kept going all through the meal. Every time the waitress came to the table I smiled at her while Rob continued his monologue. She smiled back knowingly while he ignored her completely. It wasn’t until we got to the coffee that he finally asked me the only question that really interested him.
“So, Alex,” he murmured, taking my hand as I absently stirred the sugar bowl. “Cornwall. The place we are renting is in Polzeath, within walking distance of the beach, and the surfing’s great.” He paused briefly. “How about it?”
“I’m really not sure,” I tried to sound determined, “not when it’s only the two of us.”
“But that’s the fun bit, no one to check up on us, a free run of the house, late nights and later mornings…” He took my other hand and stared into my eyes, his pale blond hair glinting in the candlelight. “We could have a lot of fun.”
“I’m just not sure that I’m ready for this,” I said. “I mean, what’s the hurry? We have barely even started going out.”
“Alex, just because we haven’t been going out for months, it doesn’t mean that I don’t care for you.” He stopped for a moment to gauge my reaction. “I mean, I care for you a great deal.”
I hesitated, unsure of what I could say that would let him down gently, but he leant in further towards me and twisted a strand of hair behind my ear. “Truth is, Alex, I think I, well – I think I love you, and I’d like to show you how much.” His dark eyes were fixed on mine, and as I deliberated for the briefest second I saw the corner of his mouth raise in a triumphant smile.
“Rob, we both know that’s not true.” He looked puzzled for a second, then pulled his hands away.
“What do you mean? Of course I do. Have done for months,” he began.
“Look, I know why you want to take someone to Cornwall while your parents are away, I’m not stupid. And I’m sure that we could have a good time going out, but we haven’t done enough of the going out yet for me to want to spend a weekend with you.”
His face looked like thunder.
“So are you saying that you won’t come to Cornwall with me?” His voice was suddenly icy.
“That’s right. It’s too soon.”
He slapped his hand down on the leather seat, and the sound made the people around us raise their heads to look at us curiously. “I thought we had an understanding,” he hissed, his handsome face suddenly looking harsh and uncompromising.
“Well, I didn’t. I like you a lot, Rob, I think I’d like to go out with you, but not if it’s all on your terms.” My voice had turned sharp, and I saw the couple at the next table stiffen as they tuned into our conversation.
His lips were pressed into a thin line. “I’ve seen how you’ve looked at me. You’ve been leading me on, you know. That’s not very nice.”
I gasped at the injustice of his comment. “That’s so unfair! I’m glad I’ve found out what you’re like now. I think you had better take me home.”
“Huh. Well, at least I haven’t wasted Cornwall on you.” He sat back, looking furious. I needed a few minutes to think, so I got up from the table.
“I’m just going to the loo. Can you please ask for the bill? I’ll be back in a minute.” I tried to keep my voice even.
There was a queue in the toilets, so I didn’t have much time on my own, which was probably for the best. I was upset and angry, so I quickly splashed some cold water on my cheeks, smoothed my hair and took a deep breath before heading back out into the restaurant.
Rob wasn’t sitting at our table, but the bill was there with some notes folded under it. Perhaps he had gone to the loo as well. I sat back down and looked out of the window down the high street while I waited. There was something slightly furtive about one guy walking away from me down the street. He looked vaguely familiar, so I paid a little more attention. In fact, he looked very familiar, and I wasn’t surprised when he unlocked the car we had come in. He couldn’t resist looking up at the window as he got into the driver’s seat, and I could see that he had seen me looking at him. He quickly ducked his head into the car and was gone.
I felt slightly sick. How had I been taken in by someone quite so shallow? Another thought occurred to me, and I reached for the bill. The notes he had left covered his half exactly. I gasped: his behaviour was so bad it was almost laughable. I was so relieved that I hadn’t let things go any further.
But I had a problem: I was stuck with no lift home, and by the time I had paid the other half of the bill I would have no money for a taxi. There were no buses, and I really didn’t fancy calling my parents. They would be really lovely about it, I knew, and angry on my behalf, but I really didn’t want to face their sympathy. I needed someone reliable who I could trust to keep his mouth shut. I pulled out my mobile and called Josh.
As I’d hoped, he was brilliant. He came without question, leaving his mates in the pub. He gave me a big hug and said just one thing. “Do you want me to sort him out?” I shook my head.
“He’s not worth the trouble, really. But thank you for the offer.”
“Do you want to come back to the pub with me, or would you rather go home?”
“Home, I think. You could drop me outside and then I won’t have to answer a million questions from Mum and Dad.”
“OK, if you’re sure.”
“You’re the best brother in the world, you know.” I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss as I got out of the car. “I owe you big time.”
“Too right,” he said, laughing as he drove off.
I gave him a few minutes to get away, and then I opened the front door. It was still early so I knew there were bound to be questions. I decided to get them over with, so I marched straight into the sitting room.
“Hello, sweetheart. You’re home early,” said Mum with a hint of surprise. “Is everything OK?”
“Fine, thank yo
u. Just not as much fun as I had hoped. It seems he really is just a pretty face.”
My parents exchanged a quick glance. “Come and join us, we were just about to start watching a film,” said Dad, patting a space on the sofa.
“No, thanks. I think I’ll have an early night. I’ve got a bit of a headache.” I gave them each a quick kiss and ran up the stairs. I shut my bedroom door gently behind me, then sank to the floor, exhausted by the need to keep up appearances. I felt the tears well up in my eyes at last.
I couldn’t believe Rob’s behaviour. The injustice of it all overwhelmed me. The tears ran down my face and my shoulders heaved as I tried not to cry too loudly. I pulled my knees up and rested my head on my arms, making myself small. As I sat there I felt my body tingle, and I shivered involuntarily.
“Don’t cry.”
My head snapped up. “Who’s there?” I whispered, peering round at the corners of my obviously empty tiny room, ignoring for a moment the fact that the voice had plainly been in my head.
“My name is Callum.”
It was a dark, silky voice, full of emotion. I jumped up and headed for my desk, flicking on the light and nervously pulling the mirror towards me as I tried to wipe the tears from my cheeks. He was there at my shoulder, his beautiful face full of concern.
“Hello, Alex. Please don’t be upset. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I felt my mouth drop as I stared at him in wonder.
I tried to settle my breathing as he watched, my heart bursting with conflicting emotions: fear of the unknown and an overwhelming joy that he was back. The part of me that had been agonising over Rob was instantly silenced.
He smiled gently, letting me come to terms with what I was seeing.
“Callum? That’s your name?”
He nodded, still smiling.
“But you can talk. I can hear you. I mean, hear you in my head. How did you…?” I knew I was rambling but I suddenly couldn’t think of anything sensible to say. He had come back, and he was talking to me.
He put his finger to his lips. “Shhh, you only need to whisper. If your family hear you, they’ll come up and eventually I’ll have to go.”
“No!” I exclaimed. “Please don’t go, not again.”
His face was suddenly full of concern. “I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’d much rather stay here with you.”
I smiled weakly. That was good, however strange the rest of this was. I tried to compose myself.
“So, what are, I mean, who are ..?” I stuttered. “I don’t understand.”
“I know.” He sighed, a small frown creasing his forehead. “It’s complicated, and it’ll take a while to explain. I’m not really sure where to start.”
I could feel the excitement in me turn to something else; I had to ask, and I didn’t know if I was ready to deal with the answer. Finally I gathered up enough nerve to speak.
“Are you a ghost?”
It was his turn to hesitate. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I know … well, I know I should be dead, but … I’m not … not really, anyway. But I also know I’m not what I was before.” The pain was evident in his eyes. He took a deep breath and smiled. “For now, let’s just say that I’m very, very happy to have found you.”
I sat there, stunned and speechless. How do you respond to someone who is “not really dead”? I took a couple of deep breaths. He was clearly waiting for me to come to terms with what he had said. His features were made even better by the slightly shy twist of his mouth, and by the gentle way he looked at me, as if he were worried by what I would say or do next.
I couldn’t resist smiling: whatever he was, he had come back, and that was what I had been hoping for. My fear was slowly being replaced by a strange and unexpected feeling of contentment. I felt that I could sit there for hours, marvelling at his beauty, without asking any more questions. But I needed some information; I just didn’t know where to start. After considering for a moment I asked him something I hoped he’d find easy to answer. “Where have you been for the last few days? You promised to come back and you didn’t. I was beginning to think that I had imagined everything.” I didn’t add that I had been desperate to see his face again.
“Yes, I’m sorry about that. It took a little longer to do what I planned.”
I raised my eyebrows in a question.
“Well, it was really frustrating being able to hear you but know that you couldn’t hear me. So I went to investigate how I could change that. I didn’t want to practise on you: you might never have spoken to me again.”
“Well, it worked! It’s a bit odd, though. In the mirror you look as if you are talking normally, but somehow I seem to be hearing you inside my head. How are you doing it?”
He gestured towards the bracelet on my wrist. “The amulet. It acts as a conduit between us. Well, you know that, you were experimenting on me the other day.”
His tone was teasing but I was instantly abashed. I had been experimenting, not realising that it would actually affect him in some way.
“I’m sorry about that, but well, you have to admit it was a bit odd. I’m not used to reflections of gorgeous guys suddenly appearing at my side.”
“You think I look good?” There was disbelief in his voice.
“Of course,” I mumbled, suddenly embarrassed. “You are better looking than anyone I have ever seen. Don’t you have a mirror where you come from?”
He continued to look stunned.
“Do you really have no idea?” He was clearly lost for words, but as I watched he pulled himself together.
“I … well, I don’t know what to say.” I smiled: his response was so unlike the self-satisfied preening of Rob, and it quickly banished the last remnants of my fear. My heart was still racing, but now I knew that the cause was excitement. I couldn’t believe that I was actually talking to him, whatever he was.
“But apart from your stunning good looks,” I couldn’t help teasing, watching a faint flush of red move across his face, “what are you doing here? What is all this about? How does this bracelet do all this?”
I waved my arm in the air to make the point, looking at the identical band on his strong wrist. He put his finger to his lips again, reminding me to be quiet.
“The amulet is a powerful device. It’s lots of things, but it’s also a communicator of some sort, but I really can’t explain how it does what it does. I just know that I can’t be without mine.”
All trace of humour was gone from his voice as he regarded the intricate piece.
“I wish I knew all of its secrets, but all I care about for now is that it seems to be able to open a window to you, and for that I’ll put up with some of its other … habits.” He paused for a moment. “But where did you find yours?”
“Buried in the sand at low tide on the Thames in Twickenham.”
“Oh, the river. I guess that makes sense. Some very odd things happen around the river.” His voice went quiet. “It’s not my favourite place, or at least it wasn’t.” He was suddenly more upbeat. “But it brought you to me, so that’s finally something in its favour.”
The wry smile was back, causing my heart to beat even faster. In our reflection in the mirror his thick hair looked as if it were mingling with mine. He was so real, standing just behind my shoulder. I had an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and touch him. Being held by those strong arms, resting my head against that chest … a sigh escaped me before I could stop it.
His smile widened as the blush appeared on my face this time.
“You can’t read minds, can you, along with all your other spooky talents?” I asked, rather later than I should have done.
“Not at all,” he laughed, “although I think I might have enjoyed knowing what you were thinking just now.”
I blushed deeper. “So what did you do to learn to speak to me? Are there lots of other people wearing these?”
“No, no one else. And that made it more difficult. I had to think through all the times I hav
e seen you and heard you and identify what made a difference. In fact,” he gave a quick grin, “your experiments with the box came in quite handy.”
“So what is it that you have to do?”
“This may seem a little weird, so promise me you won’t scream or do anything like that.”
I tried to give him a scathing look. “Do I strike you as someone who is easily scared?”
“No, I guess not,” he laughed. “OK. Well, my amulet has to be in exactly the same physical space as your amulet. Look: right now our arms are doing impossible things, but it lets me into your head.”
I looked down into the mirror where I could see the reflection of my arm. His shoulder was next to mine, then at the elbow the edges of our arms seemed to blur together – it was as if I was struggling to bring them into focus. There was a strange pale edge to my fingers too, and as I flexed them I could see his long hand surrounding my much smaller one.
As he spoke I became aware again of a strange, but not unpleasant, prickling sensation. “I can feel a sort of tingle in my arm. Is that you?”
His eyebrows rose. “You get that too? I assumed that was just me. I always shiver when people walk through me.”
This was getting weirder, but I was determined to seem nonchalant. “Does that happen a lot?”
“Oh, yes. All the time. I spend most of my time walking around the streets of London, and when you don’t have to move to avoid people, why bother?”
“I guess,” I agreed, reeling slightly. “So if you stood away from me, I wouldn’t be able to hear you?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what will happen. Let’s see.”
With that he stepped backwards. I could still see him in the mirror, but he was no longer right at my shoulder.
“OK then, try talking to me.”
He appeared to speak, but I could hear nothing. I shook my head. It seemed oddly silent inside my own brain, as if suddenly something important was missing. I frowned, and Callum was instantly back at my side, but this time he sat to my left, reaching in front of me to where my arm was resting on the table. In the mirror I could see his long fingers stretching towards my elbow. As I saw our arms touch, I felt the tingling return and a feeling of contentment swept through me.