My So-Called Phantom Love Life

by Tamsyn Murray

  I stared at him. ‘You did it on purpose.’

  ‘Did I?’

  Suspiciously, I glanced out of the window. There was no sign of the thunderous clouds now; the playground was bathed in late afternoon sunshine. I lowered my voice to a whisper. ‘Was that you messing with the weather?’

  Nico shrugged. ‘It added to the sinister atmosphere, I thought.’ Waving the source documents Miss Pointer had given us, he said, ‘We should finish this before tomorrow. Want to go to the library after school?’

  Megan was weaving her way towards me and her eyes took on an extra gleam when she saw the two of us talking. ‘No, I’m busy. And don’t get any ideas about tomorrow, Nico. We go, we do the work, we come back.’

  He shrugged. ‘Whatever you say.’ Leaning towards my ear, he whispered, ‘But I’m sure we’ll be alone at some point in the Tower. Then maybe I can prove that I’m not who you think I am.’

  He leaned down further and grazed his lips against my ear and then he was gone. Gripping the table, I steadied myself against the storm of tingling his touch had caused. Seconds later, Megan appeared next to me.

  ‘Oh my God!’ she squeaked, her eyes wide. ‘Did he really just kiss your ear?’

  My cheeks began to burn and I hurriedly summoned up an image of Owen in an effort to squash my treacherous feelings. ‘I’m sure it was an accident.’

  Megan nodded. ‘Of course it was. Like when he accidentally snogged you in the hallway in front of half the year.’

  Fanning my face, I made my way out of the classroom. ‘Leave it, Megan.’

  She followed me, determined to make her point. ‘Face it, Skye, Nico is into you big time.’ A wise expression crossed her face and she wagged a finger in my direction. ‘You guys are so going to get back together.’

  ‘Over my dead body!’ I snapped, then gulped. Thinking back over what I knew of the Solomonarii, I knew they were ruthless in their pursuit of power. I didn’t think Nico wanted to hurt me but the rest of the clan was a different matter. Exactly how far were they prepared to go to get what they wanted?

  Chapter 10

  I tried to put Nico’s parting comment out of my head as I travelled to Hyde Park. More than that, I tried to push away the memory of his touch and the way it had made me feel. But then the knowledge of what I had to do when I arrived at the Serpentine re-emerged and that wasn’t a brilliant thought, either. Shaking my head, I buried my headphones further into my ears and turned up my iPod. My love life was a joke. First Nico, now Owen; it really was about time I found myself a normal boyfriend, who was actually alive and didn’t demand that I contacted the dead for him.

  It wasn’t a bad spring evening and the park was busy. The flowers from Owen’s birthday were gone but the Liverpool scarf was still tied to the railings, its tassels grubby and weathered. As I watched, a dog trotted up and cocked its leg against it.

  ‘Obviously a Chelsea supporter,’ Owen said behind me, making me jump. I’d had the uneasy feeling someone had been watching me all the way from the underground station but had put it down to Nico’s games with Ellie earlier. Now I guessed it must have been Owen.

  ‘It’s rude to sneak up on people.’

  He raised a surprised eyebrow. ‘Hello to you, too.’

  I sniffed. ‘There’s no need to follow me around.’

  A frown creased his forehead. ‘I didn’t. I saw you walking across the grass and came over to speak to you.’

  Throwing him a searching look, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and sighed. ‘Sorry. I think I’m a bit touchy.’

  ‘Bad day?’

  I considered letting the truth spill out of me; that my ex, who just happened to be involved with an evil clan which took unsuspecting ghosts and turned them into shadowy undead servants, wanted me to help him with his monstrous plans. Unsurprisingly, I thought better of it. ‘You could say that.’

  ‘Did you bring any more magazines?’ he asked.

  I nodded. ‘Want to find somewhere to sit down and read? I’ll turn the pages for you.’

  ‘Maybe I’ll turn them myself,’ Owen replied. ‘I’ve been practising.’

  We found a tree to sit under and worked our way through the glossy articles. Owen was right; he had been practising, although he wasn’t good enough to grip the slippery pages yet. I tried to listen as he explained who the drivers were in each photograph but Celestine’s words kept floating to the front of my mind. I should be helping him to move on instead of giving in to my own selfish feelings, no matter how much I wondered about kissing him again.

  I cleared my throat. ‘What did you do today?’

  Owen laced his fingers behind his head and lay back on the grass. ‘Not much. Followed Cerys to school, checked in on my mum and dad.’ His lips curved into a smile. ‘Saw a wicked Ferrari on the way back and caught up on the footie scores from an abandoned paper. And that’s pretty much it, unless you count skimming a flattened Coke can over the lake.’

  ‘You must get really bored.’

  ‘I used to. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is watching people getting on with their lives, doing all the things you’ll never be able to again. Things aren’t so bad now I can move around, though.’ He squinted up at me, his smile widening. ‘And then there’s you.’

  His smile was contagious, in spite of knowing what I had to do. Was it really so wrong to want to be friends with Owen, to get to know him before the opportunity was gone? I’d done the same with Dontay, after all. But inside, I knew that the comparison was flawed. Dontay had been a mate and nothing more; I’d never lost sight of the ultimate goal and I’d certainly never day-dreamed about snogging him. With Owen, the goalposts kept shifting and I knew it was because my emotions were making everything cloudy and Nico wasn’t really helping. It wasn’t fair on either Owen or me and, no matter how much I wished things were different, I had a duty to stop it from happening.

  Digging my nails into the palms of my hands, I tried to sound casual. ‘There’s a service at the Dearly D tonight and my aunt wants me to help out. I wondered if you fancied keeping me company?’

  The contented expression he wore faded. ‘Will there be loads of other ghosts?’

  I nodded. ‘All the usual suspects, plus a few new ones. I can even introduce you to Jeremy’s stalker, if you like.’ Pausing nervously, I licked my lips. ‘My aunt wants to meet you, too.’

  He went still. ‘Your aunt? Why?’

  ‘Don’t worry, she’s not going to exorcise you. Jeremy told her about you and she’s interested, that’s all.’

  Uncertainty played across his face. ‘I don’t know . . .’

  ‘Please,’ I said, my fingers twitching with the urge to take his hand. ‘I promise she’s not scary and it’ll be good for you to meet other ghosts. Even if one of them is Gawjus George. Maybe someone will pass across, it’d be good for you to see.’

  Owen studied me dubiously. ‘What do you mean, pass across?’

  Making it sound as unscary as I could, I explained. When I’d finished, he looked less than keen on the idea. ‘Honestly, it’s nothing to be afraid of.’

  Sitting up, he refused to look at me. ‘That’s easy for you to say. All this stuff is new to me. You don’t have it hanging over you.’

  ‘True,’ I replied and my heart thumped uncomfortably in my chest. ‘But I might someday.’

  He snorted. ‘When you’re old and have actually done something with your life. I wasn’t ready to die and I’m not ready to give everything up yet.’ His hands clenched into fists at his sides. ‘There’s so much I still want to do, make sure my family is all right, for a start. I don’t want to leave you, either.’

  I stared at him and realisation dawned. Bubbling underneath his calm exterior was a seething anger that he’d died so young. No wonder he wasn’t interested in going to the Dearly D; he was still clinging to his old life. Why hadn’t I seen it before? Then another thought occurred to me. Was that the reason we’d ended up kissing on Monday night? Maybe he saw
me as another way of holding onto everything he used to have.

  ‘You won’t go until you’re ready,’ I said quietly, resisting the temptation to reach out towards him. ‘Look at Mary, she’s been here five hundred years or so and we still can’t get rid of her. Not that I’m suggesting you do the same.’

  Some of his agitation drained away. ‘It’s so hard. I miss everything.’ He let out a ragged sigh. ‘My family, my mates, racing around the go-kart track, quad biking, watching Liverpool win at Anfield. Sometimes I even miss the way rain used to feel on my skin, if you can believe that?’

  The longing on his face was painful to see. A lump grew in my throat. I swallowed and tried to lighten the mood. ‘Yeah. You probably don’t miss Marmite, though.’

  He threw me an incredulous look. ‘Are you kidding? It’s in my top ten of things I miss. Marmite on toast is a god amongst foods.’

  I grimaced in an effort to distract him. ‘How can you say that? It’s a well-documented fact that the Spanish Inquisition invented it to torture their prisoners with.’

  To my relief, some of his awful tension eased. We argued good-naturedly for a few minutes before agreeing to disagree. Then I glanced at my watch. ‘So what do you think? Want to come and meet the family?’

  He considered the question so long that I was sure he was going to turn me down. Then he shrugged. ‘OK. But at the first sign of sparkly lights, I’m out of there. My name’s not Edward Cullen.’

  * * *

  There wasn’t time to head home before I was due at the Dearly D so I texted Celestine to say I’d meet her there. Besides, I didn’t want to risk running into Mary; meeting my aunt was going to be scary enough without throwing a witch with territorial tendencies into the mix. Owen suggested we caught the street entertainment in Covent Garden and we whiled away some time sitting on the pavement in a quiet corner, watching the silvery human statues pose for the crowds and a fire-eater mesmerise the tourists.

  Kensal Green made a stark contrast to the flashy delights of the West End. I didn’t wear my hands-free earpiece so I couldn’t speak to Owen much; Jeremy had warned me not to look like I had anything worth stealing. The skin between my shoulder blades itched as we threaded our way through the dusk-filled streets and I cast frequent uneasy glances over my shoulder to see if we were being followed. It was impossible to tell if my suspicion was real or imagined. Aware that to the rest of the population it seemed as though I was on my own, I kept my head down and avoided making eye contact with anyone. It was a relief to round the final corner and see the welcoming red brick of the Dearly D in front of us.

  ‘Wow. That’s some crowd,’ Owen observed, tearing his gaze away from a sporty Polo GTI to eye the mixture of living and ghosts on the pavement outside. ‘Is it always this busy?’

  ‘Most of the time,’ I replied. ‘We’re the best in town and word travels fast, even amongst the dead.’

  Owen frowned. ‘Isn’t that sign rubbing it in a bit?’

  I followed his gaze. The D from Dearly had dropped off, making it The Church of the early Departed. ‘They should probably get that fixed,’ I agreed, grinning. ‘Don’t take it personally.’

  We joined the queue and filtered into the church. Regulars nodded to me and gave Owen an appraising once over. He didn’t say anything but I knew he wasn’t comfortable and I made a note to introduce him to a few of the less eccentric ghosts after the service. The sooner he made friends and realised he had nothing to be scared of, the better.

  Celestine spotted us as soon as we got past the double doors at the back. She was standing near the pulpit, chatting to Minister Guthrie. Smiling, she patted his arm and came towards us as we threaded our way down the aisle.

  ‘You must be Owen,’ she said, after greeting me. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’

  I cringed, hoping she wasn’t going to mention the incident with Jeremy in my room. Owen gave a nervous cough. ‘Nice to meet you, Miss Thackery.’

  My aunt laughed. ‘Call me Celestine. There’s no need to look so worried. I don’t bite, in spite of what Skye has probably told you. Why don’t you take a seat? The service will be starting soon.’

  Scanning the pews, I searched for a friendly face to babysit Owen. My eyes came to rest on Alex, a seventeen-year-old ghost who’d been coming to the Dearly D for a few months. He’d been struck by lightning on Primrose Hill almost a year ago and we hadn’t worked out why he hadn’t passed across yet. He was pretty contented with his ghostly existence, however, and I reckoned he’d be a calming influence on Owen. ‘Come on. Let me introduce you to Alex. He’ll look after you while I’m working.’

  The service was one of the busiest I’d seen for a long time, with plenty of spirit action. Every pew seemed full and it was standing room only at the back. Even if I squinted, I could barely make out the faces of the shadowy figures that hovered there. One of the living in particular stood out. He was dressed from head to foot in black and my gaze strayed to him several times, for reasons I didn’t understand. I thought I’d seen him before but with so many regulars it was hard to be sure. Owen claimed my attention more, though, and I couldn’t help watching him with anxious eyes. He seemed to be interested in what was going on but I was dreading his reaction if a ghost passed across. Would he be reminded that his future was the same or had my earlier reassurances soothed his worries?

  Thankfully, we reached Minister Guthrie’s final blessing without incident. There’d been the usual exchange of messages between the living and the dead; I’d even passed on a few myself. And Gawjus George had flashed Mrs Lavender an eyeful of his greying underpants in an attempt to get her attention, but she’d shooed him away with an annoyed wave of her hand and the service had continued. I’d noticed Isobel chatting to Tony with no sign that his sequinned suit bothered her and filed it away under ‘Good News’ to report back to Jeremy. I was even more pleased to see Alex and Owen laughing together and headed over to find out what the joke was.

  ‘It’s not so bad once you get used to it,’ Alex was saying as I approached. ‘You can go wherever you like and some of the other ghosts are a good laugh. It makes me wonder who was watching me before I died, though. If I’d known ghosts were everywhere, I’d never have felt the same about taking a slash.’

  ‘No ghost would choose to hang around a toilet, Alex,’ I told him. ‘I mean, seriously, why would you go in there if you didn’t need to – er – go?’

  ‘Fair point,’ he conceded. He held out a fist towards Owen. ‘I’m off. Good chatting to you, man.’

  Owen touched his own fist to Alex’s. ‘Yeah, you too.’

  I waved Alex off and then turned to Owen. ‘So? What did you think?’

  ‘It takes a bit of getting used to,’ he said in a thoughtful tone. ‘And I felt bad when your aunt was passing messages between that woman who’d died of cancer and her mum, like it was something private and I shouldn’t have been listening.’

  I knew exactly what he meant. It was common for members of the congregation to get very emotional as the service went on and even the hardest souls cracked sometimes, especially when the death had been sudden or tragic.

  ‘Sometimes we do private meetings, if the ghost or their loved ones can’t face speaking in front of everyone,’ I explained. ‘But most of the people who come here have lost someone close to them and they try to help as much as possible. It’s a bit like having an enormous step-family in some ways.’

  Owen brooded for a moment. ‘Do you think the cancer lady has long left?’

  ‘Before she passes across, you mean?’

  He nodded and I caught the shadow of sadness on his face.

  ‘No,’ I said, with a gentle smile. ‘I think she’s almost said everything she needs to. Then she can move on and rest.’

  ‘And what about how her mum feels? Won’t it be like losing her daughter all over again?’

  His eyes were anxious and I knew he was thinking about passing across himself. The problem was, I didn’t know how to reassure him.
I’d never tried to help a ghost who wanted to hang around before. ‘Most people seem happy when their loved one passes across,’ I said, groping around for words that would help. ‘It’s like . . .’

  Celestine appeared next to me. ‘Think of it like this, Owen. Imagine someone you loved emigrated to the other side of the world. You’d want to hear from them, to know they’d got there safely, wouldn’t you?’

  Owen nodded. ‘That’s what Skype is for.’

  ‘OK, so think of the Dearly D as Skype for dead people. They contact their family through us to tell them they’re all right. Then they find they have to move on, to somewhere really remote where there’s no phone signal, no computers and no postal service. But because they had the chance to tell their loved ones where they were going, the people they’re leaving behind don’t worry about them so much.’

  He mulled over her words. ‘Wouldn’t it be better if they didn’t go to the remote place? Why can’t they stay here, where they can still talk to their family?’

  Smiling, Celestine said, ‘Some do.’ She paused and her voice softened. ‘But the people left behind start to forget. They don’t call in so often and eventually stop coming altogether. It’s not their fault; life gets in the way and they have to deal with it. All the ghost can do is watch as the people they love get further away.’

  Owen stared at her wordlessly, his eyes glittering like pewter under the lights above us. More than anything, I wanted to reach out and hug him and realised for what felt like the zillionth time how impossible it was.

  ‘I wouldn’t wish that on anyone,’ Celestine went on, holding his gaze. ‘It hurts. Some ghosts get angry and take it out on their loved ones. Others spend their time following them around, desperately hoping for a sign that they still care. We do what we can but, like anything, the ghost has to want our help and needs to be ready to move on.’

  ‘I don’t want that to happen to me.’ Owen’s words were tight, as though he was struggling to get them out. I could hardly blame him; it couldn’t be what he wanted to hear. ‘This whole thing sucks.’