Ghost 05 - Fairytale Come Alive

by Kristen Ashley

  She’d called him back but he’d missed the call. When he checked his voicemail, he heard her voice.

  Something about hearing her voice leaving a message made him lose concentration. He didn’t hear a fucking word she said.

  He just listened to the sound of her voice leaving him a voicemail like she did it every day.

  That warmth hit his gut and this time it was far stronger, nearly enough to knock him to his knees.

  After he got over acting like a fifteen year old boy with a fucking crush, he replayed the message and listened to her speak.

  “Prentice? It’s Isabella. I got your message. Listen, I’m sorry but there was a photographer in the village today. He took photos of me and Sally. I got away as quickly as I could. I…” She hesitated then rushed on, “I just thought you’d want to know. See you later.”

  Unfortunately, if he wanted to feed his children that “later” needed to be much later for, as much as he wanted to be home and not only eat her food but see her in his kitchen cooking it, he had to work.

  He’d come home to a light outside, a light in the vestibule and a lamp lit in the great room, all indicating that Elle had again illuminated his way.

  When he had them all off and the house secured for the night (something he never did, until he saw his son’s photograph in a gossip magazine, they lived remote at the end of a winding one lane road you’d have to really want to drive up), he’d seen the dim light and heard the hushed sounds of the television in Elle’s rooms.

  He thought she was awake, watching television.

  And he knew he shouldn’t go to her.

  He was fucking overjoyed he went.

  “Why’s Miss Bella asleep?” Sally asked on a loud whisper as Prentice put her bowl of porridge in front of her.

  “Because she’s tired?” Jason replied to his sister sarcastically.

  “Jason,” Prentice warned.

  “But she’s always awake,” Sally countered, ignoring Prentice and unaffected as ever by her brother’s sarcasm.

  “She needs her sleep, baby,” Prentice said. “She’s been very busy and she’s very tired.”

  “Tired like spending the day at the beach tired?” Sally asked.

  “Even more,” Prentice answered.

  Sally’s eyes got big and she breathed, “That’s tired.”

  He smiled at his daughter before he said, “This morning you’re coming to work with me. We’ll let Elle sleep in. I’ll bring you back later.”

  Sally tucked into her porridge and replied brightly, “Okay.”

  Prentice watched his daughter and wished his life was that simple.

  Unfortunately, it was not.

  Jason made a noise and Prentice’s eyes moved to his son. When they did, he noted immediately that Jason had something weighty on his mind.

  Uncharacteristically, Jason didn’t delay in sharing what was weighing on his mind.

  “How long is Miss Bella staying this time?” Jason asked his porridge.

  Clear evidence that his life was not simple.

  Prentice made a decision.

  “You can call her Elle,” he told Jason and Jason’s head shot up.

  “Hurrah!” Sally cheered.

  “Be quiet, baby,” Prentice gently admonished his daughter.

  “Hurrah,” Sally whispered, grinning huge.

  Prentice looked at his son. His head was bent to his porridge.

  But he was also grinning.

  Looking at his son, Prentice changed his mind.

  Maybe life was that simple.

  Chapter Thirteen

  All of It I Carry Safe

  Fiona

  Fiona floated behind Bella as Bella paced the great room.

  And as Fiona floated, she giggled.

  Bella was cross.

  Very cross.

  Fiona thought it was hilarious.

  After Prentice came home last night and headed to the guest suite, Fiona followed him.

  The minute he crossed the threshold to the room and Fiona would have floated after him, she’d popped right back to her tent by the stream.

  She knew what that meant.

  At the current stage in Prentice and Bella’s game, Fiona found this surprising (and heartbreaking, but only for Fiona, still, she didn’t go there).

  Nevertheless, after she had a good night’s sleep, the next morning she was wandering down to the stream when she popped back into the bedroom of the guest suite.

  It was morning. Bella was sleeping in bed.

  Prentice was standing beside it, wearing just his jeans, watching her.

  Then Fiona watched Prentice get dressed, go to Bella’s handbag, pocket her passport, then go to her wardrobe and grab her luggage. She floated after him as he carried it out to the Range Rover. After tossing it in, he walked back into the house.

  Fiona stayed outside, staring at Bella’s empty luggage in the back of Prentice’s 4x4. Then she burst out laughing.

  Prentice got the kids ready and out of the house and Fiona went to Bella’s room, wiling the morning away reading the rest of her journals.

  By the time she was done, she was shedding ghostly tears again.

  Seriously, Bella’s father was a tosser.

  And that ex-husband of hers? There were no words to describe what he was.

  She was still holding the journal when Bella moved.

  Quickly putting the journal back and arranging it in Bella’s exacting way, she looked to the bed.

  Bella was sitting up in bed covers held to her naked chest, head turned away from Fiona, staring in horror at the clock saying it was twelve after eleven.

  Then she was a flurry of motion.

  She threw back the covers, catapulted out of bed, snatched up her discarded clothes from the night before and threw them on.

  Then she went directly to the wardrobe. Tugging the doors open, she even leaned in to grab her suitcases before she realized they weren’t there.

  She stared at the empty space.

  Fiona giggled at Bella.

  She couldn’t help it; Bella’s face was just too funny.

  “What on –?” Bella started to say, stopped then searched the room.

  Then she searched the house.

  Thoroughly.

  Finally, she saw Prentice’s note propped up against the coffeemaker.

  Fiona stood behind her, reading over her shoulder as Bella read it.

  E,

  S is with me so you can sleep in. Call me when you wake up and I’ll bring her home.

  P

  PS: The coffee’s made, just add cinnamon and flip the switch.

  Fiona floated to Bella’s side and saw her face was the picture of shock, her eyes wide, her mouth had dropped open.

  Fiona started giggling again. Really, she was hilarious.

  Fiona glided behind her as Bella ran to the guest suite.

  Grabbing her bag, she started digging. She pulled out an elegant, rich leather, designer travel purse, snapped it open and stared inside. Her brows drew together and her fingers sifted through its contents. Not locating her passport, her face grew pale and she started to shake the travel purse as if shaking it would make her passport magically float to the surface.

  She gave up, dropped the travel purse and started digging in her bag. Then she started frantically digging through her bag. Then she dumped the contents of her bag on the couch and pawed through them.

  Then she stood, face still pale, staring at the contents of her handbag scattered on the couch. Contents that no longer included her passport.

  Her hands were clenched and Fiona bit her ghostly lip.

  Fiona watched the expressions cross Bella’s face and Fiona knew Bella made the decision not to be anxious but instead to be angry when Bella unclenched her fists and her eyes flashed.

  Fiona stopped biting her lip and grinned.

  This was going to be good.

  Then Bella snatched up her phone and dialed Prentice.

  Fiona got as cl
ose to her as possible without getting into shivering distance.

  With super-ghost hearing, she listened to their conversation.

  “Elle,” Prentice said in greeting.

  “Pren –” Bella started.

  “You’re awake,” Prentice cut her off.

  “Yes,” Bella said curtly. “Prentice, I can’t –”

  He interrupted her again, “I’ll bring Sally home. We’ll leave in fifteen minutes. Be home soon.”

  “Prentice, I –” Bella began but Prentice had rung off.

  Bella took her phone from her ear and stared at it with that wide-eyed, mouth open look.

  Fiona started giggling again.

  Then she watched Bella dial again.

  Fiona got close. Bella got voicemail.

  Fiona started giggling (yes, again!).

  Bella pressed a button with her thumb angrily and she threw her mobile on the couch.

  Then she took a shower, got dressed and was in the great room, hair wet, face murderous, feet pacing when Prentice and Sally walked in.

  “Elle!” Sally screeched the minute she saw her.

  Fiona’s daughter ran direct to Bella, throwing her arms around Bella’s legs as if she hadn’t seen her in years rather than hours.

  The anger in Bella’s face instantly melted away and it got that soft look it got every time Sally hugged her.

  Fiona watched as Bella placed a hand to Sally’s hair.

  Fiona really liked it when Bella touched Sally’s hair for, she suspected, Sally really liked it too.

  Then Bella’s eyes drifted to Prentice as he got close and the soft look vanished.

  She opened her mouth to speak but his hand shot out, fingers curling around the back of her head, he leaned into her over Sally, pulling her to him at the same time.

  He kissed her, hard but fast.

  Fiona could have done without seeing that.

  Luckily, it was short.

  With his hand still in her hair, faces close, he murmured, “Can you pick Jason up from school?”

  Mutely, eyes glazed, lips parted, Bella nodded.

  His hand slid to her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheekbone, his gaze roving her face, Fiona registered that he was pleased with what he saw.

  Then he finished, “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Then he let her go and he was gone.

  Bella stared at the door.

  Sally stared up from her place in front of Bella, her little arms still wrapped around Bella’s legs.

  “Daddy just kissed you,” Sally breathed.

  Bella’s head jerked down.

  It was clear she had no idea how to deal with this. None whatsoever.

  Clueless.

  Fiona giggled again.

  “Yes,” Bella croaked, her voice scratchy then she coughed to clear her throat.

  “I think he likes you,” Sally whispered.

  “I… uh… erm…” Bella stammered.

  Suddenly, Sally let her go and skipped away, happy as a clam and onto a new topic, asking, “Can we have pancakes for lunch?”

  Fiona watched Bella’s shoulders droop, why, Fiona didn’t know. Relief that she’d been saved from the Sally situation by Sally’s short attention span. Admitting defeat about the Prentice situation.

  Whatever.

  Thankfully, Bella didn’t make Sally pancakes. She made her grilled cheese with carrot sticks on the side.

  It looked delicious.

  Later, Bella picked up Jason and got the kids sorted. She was making dinner when Prentice called.

  Fiona was floating with her arse over the stool next to the one her son was sitting on when the phone rang. She dematerialized and materialized close to Bella and listened in.

  “Hello?” Bella greeted.

  “Elle,” Prentice said, then didn’t wait for a response, “I’ll no’ be home for dinner.”

  Bella’s head twitched when she heard his voice and with a darted glance at Jason at the counter and one to Sally laying on her back on the couch (playing, with difficulty but determination, one-handed with her new kitty), Bella started down the hall.

  Fiona followed.

  “Prentice –”

  Prentice cut her off, “What are you making?”

  Fiona watched Bella’s head jerk as she stopped outside the laundry room before she asked, sounding flummoxed, “Pardon?”

  “For dinner. What are you making?”

  “Gammon and egg with chips and peas,” she answered, then went on quickly, “Prentice –”

  He interrupted again, “Pudding?”

  “What?”

  “What are you making Sally for pudding?”

  Bella tilted her head back and looked at the ceiling, visibly seeking patience.

  Fiona giggled yet again.

  “Treacle sponge with custard,” she replied, her eyes moving away from the ceiling. “Now, Prentice, listen to me –”

  He didn’t let her continue. “Is it homemade?”

  “What?”

  “The sponge. Is it homemade?”

  Bella sighed. Heavily.

  “Yes. But Pren –”

  “Save me some sponge.”

  “Prentice –”

  “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  Talking so swiftly her words ran together, Bella declared, “Prentice, we have to talk.”

  His voice was soft when he responded, “Aye, but I have a deadline, baby. We’ll talk when I get home.”

  Bella made no response and Fiona saw her eyes were glazed again. And Fiona knew why.

  Prentice had an attractive voice but when it got soft and he talked to you with love in his tone, well, that would make anyone’s eyes glaze over.

  Fiona floated listlessly as she heard Prentice repeat, “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  Then he disconnected.

  Bella gazed dazedly at the phone for several long seconds before she pressed the button to turn it off.

  Fiona decided she hated her again.

  Prentice might not have called Fiona “baby”. And he might not have cuddled her in bed all night long.

  But he had spoken to her with love in his tone.

  She hadn’t heard that in well over a year.

  She missed it.

  Terribly.

  Bella went back to making and serving dinner. While they ate it, Fiona thought about leaving them and going somewhere else to haunt for awhile. She was going over her options when Jason made a statement that piqued her interest.

  “Kids at school say I’m in a magazine.”

  Bella was rinsing the dirty dishes.

  She glanced over her shoulder from her place at the sink, her gaze hesitant and she said gently, “Yes, sweetheart.”

  He grinned his cheeky grin.

  All grin. All cheek. All Jason. No sadness in his eyes. Nothing held back.

  Fiona hadn’t seen that in well over a year either.

  She missed that too.

  “Do I look good?” Jason asked.

  Bella smiled.

  Then, all of a sudden looking strangely indecisive, she stilled.

  Finally, making her decision, she walked to Jason and put her hand on top of his head. Leaning in, her hand slid down to his cheek.

  Her face got close. “With your father’s eyes and your mother’s hair, it’s impossible for you not to look good.”

  Jason stared at her, probably because her voice shook with emotion.

  Bella’s fingers slid through his hair as she watched her hand, the look on her beautiful face a mixture nostalgic and heartbroken.

  Then she caught his eyes with hers and whispered, “You know, she’s with you every minute. Here,” she tugged his hair gently. “Here,” she let his hair go and tapped his head with her finger. “And here,” she put her hand over his heart. “I learned that a long time ago,” Bella whispered. “My Mom left me but she left a lot with me and all of it I carry safe, every moment, right here,” she pressed her hand on his chest for emphasis an
d Jason closed his eyes.

  Ghostly tears slid down Fiona’s cheeks and she decided she didn’t hate Bella anymore.

  Fiona watched as Bella leaned in and kissed the top of his head and then she went back to tidying the kitchen as if that touching moment hadn’t happened.

  Eyes never leaving Bella, Jason made a noise in the back of his throat then gulped in an effort to control his emotion.

  Bella, astutely, ignored it.

  He slid off his stool, went to get Fiona’s guitar and the book Bella gave him to teach himself how to play it and he brought them downstairs

  Seeing him with her guitar and Bella’s book, Fiona finally got it.

  And she looked to the woman who was teaching her daughter how to dangle the new cat toy she’d bought Blackie when she was with Sally in the village and Fiona fell in love.

  This world was meant to have Jason and Sally in it.

  So, as ugly as it was, Bella and Prentice could not be.

  And Fiona and Prentice were meant to be.

  But, as ugly as it was, Fiona was not meant to inhabit that world for very long.

  So, when she was gone, someone had to take care of her family.

  And there was no better person to do it than the beautiful woman gamely ignoring her son plucking discordantly at guitar strings while she laughed and played with Sally and her kitten.

  Now, Fiona realized, was the time Bella and Prentice were meant to be.

  Fiona hovered, shaken by this new knowledge, as Bella put Sally to bed and came back down to Jason.

  Then she surprised Fiona further as she gently took the guitar away from him. Expertly tuning it (she had a good ear), she explained what she was doing as Jason looked on with a rapt expression.

  Then she played.

  Fiona was stunned. Bella hadn’t played twenty years ago. She wasn’t talented but she knew what she was doing and it sounded lovely.

  When she stopped, Bella surprised Fiona even further when she explained to Jason, “I was so impressed with your Mum’s playing, when I went home I took lessons.” Her face and tone grew wistful when she said, “I haven’t played in years. I forgot how much I like doing it.” Then she gained control and grinned at Jason. “But it makes your fingers hurt.”

  Jason grinned back.

  Bella handed Jason Fiona’s guitar and finished, her face soft, “That’s what your Mum gave to me, my love of the guitar. And a lot of happy memories filled with laughter. Those things are what I carry in my heart, gifts from Fiona.”