My So-Called Phantom Love Life

by Tamsyn Murray

  ‘What if I told you that there was a way for me to stay?’ Owen said, turning back to me. ‘What if I met someone who could help me regain some of what I’ve lost?’

  A chill ran down my spine which had nothing to do with the weather. I stared at him, trying to shake off the horrible suspicion crawling through my mind. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘A man came to the lake yesterday evening. At first, I thought he was just watching the boats but eventually I realised he was staring at me.’ A shadow of a smile tugged at Owen’s lips. ‘I spend the last few months thinking no one can see me and then I meet two psychics in as many weeks. Funny, isn’t it?’

  ‘Ha ha,’ I agreed, my throat dry with anxiety. I hadn’t told many people at the Dearly D about Owen, although they’d seen him on Thursday evening. What were the chances of a random psychic encounter, I wondered.

  ‘The man told me his name was Ivan and he wanted to help me. He asked how I felt about being dead and then he said he had some friends who specialised in cases like mine, that they could help me become more than just a ghost.’

  The white walls of the Tower loomed over the bus as we passed by. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. ‘Did he say how?’

  Owen shook his head. ‘No. But he did say that if they chose to help me, I’d be as good as alive again and I’d never have to pass across.’ He fired an excited look my way. ‘So? What do you think?’

  My head was swirling in confusion and I didn’t know what I thought. Before my meeting with Gregor, I’d have been doubtful enough but now I was deeply worried by the similarities between Owen’s story and what I’d heard that afternoon. Who was this Ivan? Could he be a member of the Solomonarii? If so, was it a coincidence that he’d found Owen? There must be hundreds of ghosts around London. What had led him to mine?

  ‘These friends,’ I said slowly. ‘Did they have a name?’

  Owen jiggled impatiently beside me. ‘What has that got to do with anything? Don’t you understand what this means?’ His eyes bored into mine and the flecks of amber danced. ‘I’ll be able to do all the things I miss, like racing my go-kart and running. No more half-felt touches and insubstantial brushing of lips, either. Once I get my substance back, I can kiss you the way I want to.’

  He leaned towards me. Instinctively, I pulled away. His expression grew hurt as he sat back and studied me. ‘You don’t look as excited as I expected. What’s wrong? Don’t you want me to kiss you?’

  Heart thudding in my chest, I took refuge in humour. ‘It would look pretty weird if I puckered up on my own, don’t you think?’

  He tilted his head. ‘True, but I think there’s more to it than that.’

  He was closer to the truth than he could possibly know, but I could hardly explain about my tidal feelings for Nico. Maybe I should tell Owen what I’d learned about the Solomonarii. Would he listen if I did? I’d have to be careful not to dump all the information on him at once but it was worth a shot. ‘I’m worried about this man you’ve met. What he’s offering you isn’t natural. People die and sometimes they become ghosts. There isn’t a way for them to come back to life, unless you believe in reincarnation and that’s not what we’re talking about here.’

  The dark-haired man in front of us shifted in his seat. Owen ignored him and stared at me. ‘I can’t believe you’re being like this. I thought you’d be happy.’

  His face was a picture of confused resentment. Tears filled my eyes and I lowered my voice. ‘I want what’s best for you, Owen, and if that means losing you when you pass across, so be it. That’s why it’s so important for you to come and speak to Cerys with me. I think she’s the reason you’re still here.’

  Confusion gave way to anger. ‘Forget about passing across,’ he spat. ‘You’ve told me what happens to ghosts when they do that and it seems to me they just disappear. Admit it, you don’t really know where they go once it’s happened. They might fade away into nothing and you’re making up a nice story to go with it so that you don’t feel bad.’

  The worst of it was that he could be right. Psychics believed there was an existence beyond this one but we had no evidence to support such an idea, in the same way that religions couldn’t prove the existence of their afterlife. But I’d seen enough ghosts pass across to know that it was a pleasant experience and there was definitely life beyond what we understood by the word. Owen’s fear went deeper than a fear of the unknown, though; he wasn’t ready to let go of anything he’d once held dear and whatever I’d just told him I knew that Cerys wasn’t the key to why he’d become a ghost. He simply wasn’t prepared to give up on what his life had been. Until I persuaded him to give up his need to live again, he didn’t stand a chance of moving on.

  ‘Owen —’ I began, reaching towards him.

  He stood and stumbled backwards. ‘Don’t. You say you want to help me but when I find a way to stay here, you don’t like it.’ Thrusting his hand into his jeans, he pulled out the pebble I’d given him. ‘Well, maybe I don’t need your kind of help. My way might be risky but it’s not like I’ve got anything left to lose, is it?’

  Holding his palm skywards, he tipped his hand sideways. The pebble rolled and fell. It hit the floor with a sharp clatter.

  A ragged gasp escaped me. ‘Pick it up, quick!’

  His chin jutted upwards in defiance. ‘Like I said, I’m going to do this my way. You’ll see I was right eventually.’

  As I watched, his edges became fuzzy, as though I was seeing him through frosted glass. Desperately, I bent down and clutched at the pebble. ‘Take it!’ I begged under my breath. ‘Please, Owen, you don’t know what’s going to happen next.’

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the tourists were whispering and pointing at me. I ignored them as a whining noise broke out around us. A hole was opening in the floor of the bus and I had no idea if anyone else could see it. Wide-eyed, I whispered to Owen, imploring him to take the stone. He peered down at the hole and clutched his head.

  ‘What’s happening? I feel like I’m going to faint.’

  I lurched towards him, pointing at the pebble. ‘You need this or you’ll be dragged back to the lake.’

  The whining increased. Groaning, Owen reached out a blurry arm. His fingers clutched at the stone but it was too late. The noise reached breaking point and, with one final burst of high-pitched moaning, the hole sucked Owen downwards. I could only look on in horror as his fingers scrabbled at the floor ineffectually, then he was gone and the air was silent.

  I sat staring at the space where he’d been seconds earlier, horror-struck. Then I lurched sideways and threw up down the side of the seat. As I sat up, wiping my mouth, I heard the single click of a camera. I looked up to see the Japanese tourists staring at me, their faces a mixture of confusion and interest.

  ‘You OK?’ one of them asked, in heavily accented English. A second lifted his camera to take another photo.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ I growled, with all the menace I could muster. I guess he got the message because he lowered it again immediately and they all turned away, whispering amongst themselves.

  Sinking back into my seat, I tried to make sense of what had just happened. My worry over Owen blinded me to the curious glances of the tourists. I’d heard of ghosts being pulled back to their haunting zones and knew it was every bit as horrible as it looked. And I had the added concern of wondering what Owen would do next with these new friends of his. I didn’t doubt that he’d somehow been caught up by the Solomonarii; the coincidence was too great. The question was, would he listen to me long enough to convince him they were bad news?

  It wasn’t until we were about to get off, that I realised Owen wasn’t the only passenger to have disappeared. The black-haired man who’d been sitting in front of us had gone, too. Frowning, I tried to remember when I’d last seen him. He’d been there as we crossed the bridge, because I’d seen him grab for support the same way I had. And I’d suspected him of eavesdropping at one point, too. Maybe he’d got o
ff at one of the stops but I didn’t remember seeing him go.

  Shrugging off the thought, I headed for the underground. I needed to get to Hyde Park, to see if Owen was OK. Mary had warned me that the worst would happen if he lost the pebble and now I had to find out what that meant. If I was lucky, he’d be back at the lake, shaken but otherwise in one piece. Once I’d satisfied myself of that, I wanted to get home to the laptop. Apart from anything else, I had questions which needed answers. It was just possible Nico could give them to me.

  Chapter 15

  There was no sign of Owen at the lake. I spent a frantic hour searching for him, calling his name as though he was a lost puppy. When the sky started to darken, I gave up and headed wearily home.

  I’d hoped to slip quietly upstairs when I pushed the front door closed behind me but my aunt had other plans. She’d posted Mary as a sentry at the top of the stairs, cutting off any chance of my sneaking onto the laptop to see if Nico had accepted my Friend Request.

  Mary stood, arms folded, and stared down at me. ‘Thine aunt seeks an audience with thee.’

  I stopped four steps from the top. ‘What about?’

  She shrugged. ‘Evil spreadeth a dark shadow ever further over the forces of good.’

  I counted to ten under my breath. Who did she think she was – Gandalf? ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Down the stairs, invoking the magical tablet,’ Mary said, pointing a dramatic finger towards the living room.

  Celestine was on her iPad when I found her. Jeremy had one eye on the snooker but hit the mute button as soon as he saw me.

  ‘What’s up?’ I said, sitting down on the sofa and trying to look relaxed, even though I was burning to snatch the screen out of her hands and log onto Facebook.

  She studied me intently. ‘You tell me. I was going to suggest that we decide on a list of questions to email to Dr Mirga but it looks like you’ve got more important things to tell me.’

  There was no point in lying, I realised; she’d suss me out before I’d finished the first sentence. Haltingly, I relayed the whole sorry tale. I saw Jeremy flinch when I described the way Owen had vanished and I wondered if he’d witnessed the same thing with another ghost. When I finished, Celestine looked very worried and even Mary was silent.

  ‘Did you find him?’ my aunt queried.

  I shook my head. ‘No. I think I’m probably the last person he wanted to see so he might have been hiding from me.’

  Jeremy nodded. ‘From what I’ve heard, it’s a horrible experience but the ghost usually survives it intact. I don’t suppose he’ll have been feeling his best, though.’

  It made sense that he’d be avoiding me if he felt rough, I realised. Maybe I’d go back tomorrow.

  ‘Do you think the man Owen met is one of the Solomonarii?’ Jeremy went on.

  I spread my hands. ‘How many other people go around offering once-in-an-afterlife opportunities to ghosts?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘Good point. In that case, how did they find him?’

  I hesitated. ‘I could always ask Nico.’

  ‘No!’ chorused my aunt, Mary and Jeremy all at the same time.

  I blinked. ‘Obviously I’m not going to come right out with it but I’m sure he doesn’t know what he’s got himself involved with. Maybe if I ask the right questions, I can find out exactly what the Solomonarii plan to do with Owen.’

  Celestine chewed her lip. ‘I don’t know. Are you sure Nico isn’t lying to you about how much he knows? He seemed pretty involved with them back in February.’

  I couldn’t argue but he’d seemed one hundred per cent genuine when we’d talked at the Tower. ‘He told me he’d had a power rush when he first joined but now he can control things much better. He also said he wasn’t interested in my gift any more, just – er – me.’

  ‘I still don’t know . . .’ said Celestine.

  Mary scowled ferociously. ‘They be the Devil’s brethren and speaketh with forked tongues. Trust not a word which falleth from their lips.’

  It wasn’t the first time she’d spoken with such passion about the Solomonarii and it made me wonder if there was a story behind her venom. Had she known a ghost who became one of the Eaten? It couldn’t be first-hand experience; there was plenty of spirit about Mary, no one would describe her as consumed. I opened my mouth to ask her about it, but the warning look Celestine sent my way changed my mind. Maybe I’d ask Mary about it when all this was over, but for now I was happy to bow to my aunt’s better judgement.

  ‘Even if they are as evil as you say, Nico isn’t. He’s still capable of making his own choices and he says he wants to help. I think he’s being honest with me.’

  Jeremy frowned. ‘And if he’s not?’

  I didn’t want to think about that possibility. ‘I’d be surprised if he didn’t expect me to research the Solomonarii after he told me about them. Maybe he even wanted me to.’

  My aunt looked thoughtful. ‘As a cry for help, you mean?’

  Actually I’d meant in that boastful kind of way boys had, but her explanation was good, too. ‘Yeah, that’s what I meant.’

  She nodded. ‘You could be right. Maybe we should be viewing Nico as an innocent caught up in all this, although his behaviour so far doesn’t make it easy.’

  She was swaying towards having more faith in him and I realised I wanted her to think well of him. I needed more to tip the balance, a sweetener to seal the deal. ‘There’s something else,’ I said in a slow voice. ‘I got the impression that Nico was trying to find out more about what the Solomonarii actually do. He said something about wanting to change the way things were.’

  ‘He’s lied to you before, Skye,’ Celestine said doubtfully. ‘How do you know you can trust him now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘Something feels different. At least let me talk to him about Owen. What harm can it do?’

  Celestine stared deep into my eyes for a moment, and I wondered if she could see how close I was to falling for Nico all over again. Eventually, she nodded. ‘But only about Owen. Don’t mention anything about Gregor and what he told us, OK?’

  ‘I promise,’ I said, crossing my fingers inside the sleeves of my sweatshirt. ‘Psychic’s honour.’

  She watched me all the way across the living room and I felt her gaze still boring into me as I mounted the stairs. She might have suspected how I felt but she hadn’t said anything about it. That meant she trusted my judgement. I hoped she was right; where Nico was concerned, I wasn’t entirely sure I could be trusted myself.

  * * *

  Nico still hadn’t accepted my Friend Request and, by Sunday afternoon, I was ready to ask everyone I knew where he lived so I could go round and see him and I was cursing my stupidity in deleting his mobile number after we split up. Although I understood why he’d never taken me to his house when we were a couple, it was a real pain now. Megan was at a family party all day so I couldn’t even pump her for details of her date with Charlie to pass the time. By way of a distraction, I took myself down to the Serpentine to check up on Owen but, if he was there, he wasn’t showing himself to me. I had visions of him hovering around the island in the lake, keeping just out of sight. Eventually, I gave up and headed dispiritedly back to Highgate.

  By the time I’d spent a sleepless night watching the hours crawl by and I’d dragged my sorry self into school on Monday morning, I was more on edge than an X Factor auditionee. Only Megan’s smiling face when I met her for registration made me feel better.

  ‘So?’ I demanded when she didn’t dish the dirt immediately. ‘Tell me about the date of the decade. Did he hog the Häagen-Dazs or snog you over a Slush Puppy?’

  She beamed shyly. ‘It was Ben and Jerry’s and we shared the Cookie Dough love.’

  I grinned. ‘Go, you two. When are you doing it again?’

  ‘On Thursday. We’re going ice-skating. Want to come?’

  The last time I’d been skating it had been with Dontay and I’d woken up the next day cover
ed in bruises. It wasn’t an experience I was in a hurry to repeat, especially not as a gooseberry. ‘I think I’m working.’

  Her eyes twinkled. ‘There are three whole days between now and Thursday. Anything might happen.’

  I guessed she meant with Nico but I didn’t answer her. By the time I’d tackled him about Owen, things were likely to be frosty enough between me and Nico. We wouldn’t need a trip to the ice rink to chill our relationship any more.

  I knew there was something going on with Nico long before I saw him outside our history class. I’d caught his whispered name too many times as Megan and I made our way along the corridors, and several kids I knew looked at me oddly as I passed them. Uncomfortably, I thought back to our trip to the Tower. Gossip spread faster than flu in our school; maybe someone had spotted us talking and started a rumour we were back together.

  It wasn’t until we reached the classroom that the real reason he was such a hot topic became obvious. He was standing at the back of the line, leaning against the wall. The left side of his face was covered in an ugly purple-black bruise and his eye was swollen and bloodshot. My mouth dropped open and it was clear I wasn’t the only one who was shocked. Some of the boys were staring in open admiration, others avoided looking at him and the girls were conducting hushed conversations behind their hands as they darted curious glances his way. His gaze met mine for a brief second. Then he looked away, a stark warning not to ask him about it. Feeling as though someone had punched me in the stomach, I joined the back of the queue and tried not to stare.

  ‘Oh my God, what happened?’ Megan whispered. Her voice was barely audible but I knew Nico must know we were talking about him.