My So-Called Phantom Love Life

by Tamsyn Murray

  My eyes flew to Nico. All colour had drained from his face. Even his bruises appeared bloodless and he looked ill. Beside me, Jeremy’s expression was equally strained. My fingers brushed the cling-film in my pocket and I pulled it out in readiness. He nodded once and held up his own twist of speckled pepper. In the back room, I pictured Celestine and Gregor doing the same.

  ‘Not yet,’ Jeremy whispered, jerking his head towards the room again.

  Now Ivan was drawing the knife past Owen’s waist towards the floor and the chasm was almost as tall as he was. More than one sliver of crimson writhed within its inky depths now. After kneeling at Owen’s feet for a few seconds, Ivan rose and stood before the ghost, his lips moving feverishly. The roar of the wind increased, I had no idea how the candles were still alight. Then, in one fluid movement, he raised the blade high and, clasping it with two hands, plunged it deep into Owen’s chest.

  I couldn’t help it; I let out a silent scream. Owen’s eyes widened in shock and his mouth sagged. The black chasm oozed forwards to envelop him and I saw his hands clawing against it as it wrapped itself around his face. Again, a soundless scream escaped me.

  ‘Help me!’ Owen shrieked but none of the Solomonarii moved. Ivan and the other man looked on impassively but Nico was rooted to the spot, an expression of sick horror crawling across his features. I jumped to my feet and his eyes met mine, flooded with incomprehension. Then my gaze was dragged back to Owen, struggling to free himself. Tugging at the plastic in my hand, I flung it into the room. There was a sizzling sound and a flash of blue fire. I turned back to see Jeremy staring in shock at the window.

  ‘It evaporated,’ he said, pushing his fingers towards the gap. Blue sparks flew and he snatched his hand back. ‘Like there was a forcefield in the way.’

  To my right, I registered two flashes of blue in the doorway to the back room and I guessed Celestine and Gregor had thrown their salt and pepper as well. Jeremy drew back his hand to throw his and I pulled it down. ‘Don’t. That’s what Nico was doing – sealing the room. I guess that means we can’t get in.’

  Tears welled in my eyes and Owen’s struggles grew weaker and he sank to his knees. Helplessly, I watched as Ivan closed his eyes and continued his frantic chanting. The other man joined in. The darkness covered Owen completely. For a moment, he was a black silhouette in the candlelight. Then the black melted away, leaving him huddled on his knees. He raised his head and looked around, as though seeing for the first time. Sobbing, I peered at him; he looked no different, maybe Gregor had been wrong. Then he turned his head towards the window and I saw his eyes. Where once they’d been the grey of stormy skies, now they were oily depths of blackness. Climbing to his feet, he bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. Ivan gestured at him and Owen parted his lips to howl. Inside the scarlet gash of the opening was a blood-red forked tongue.

  My own mouth fell open in horror. Whatever it was in there, it wasn’t Owen and I had no idea if the real Owen was still inside, fighting to get out. Desperately, I looked at Nico. He slowly edged round the circle to me. ‘Help him!’ I hissed, snatching the cling-film from Jeremy. ‘Throw this at the pentagram!’

  For a second, I thought he would ignore me. Then he strode across the room and reached through the window, blue light parting around the hand that had cast the sealing spell. I thrust the twist into Nico’s hand. ‘Quickly!’

  His fingers pressed hard into mine. Then, eyes fixed on his oblivious father, Nico opened the plastic and hurled the contents high over the pentagram. Salt and pepper danced in the wind and, seemingly in slow motion, settled over the thing which used to be Owen. It screamed as though burned and fell back to its knees. Ivan stopped his chanting and stared. Bubbling blisters appeared on the creature’s cheeks and black blood erupted in jagged spurts. It screamed again and I noticed that a yawning white hole had appeared in the floor. As I watched in terror, the Owen-thing began to slide into it, as though dragged by an invisible weight. It scrabbled at the floor as the blackness seeped out of it. I stared, searching for a sign that Owen was still there and thought I caught a flash of gold in the dark eyes. Then the wind reached hurricane force and with one gust the candles went out. A sudden boom filled the air and the room was filled with brilliant white light. When it faded, the room was utterly silent and the Solomonarii were crumpled heaps on the floor. There was no sign of Owen at all.

  ‘Nico,’ I yelled and stumbled to my feet.

  I took a few steps towards the door before Jeremy pulled me back. ‘He’s still breathing. Come on, we have to go.’

  My eyes were dragged back to the spot where Owen had been. ‘We can’t leave. What about Nico? And I need to find Owen.’

  Celestine and Gregory raced around the side of the house. ‘Owen is gone,’ she said, her tone broken. ‘And from what I saw, we’re lucky he is.’

  I rounded on her. ‘How can you say that?’

  She grasped my arms. ‘That wasn’t him at the end. And wherever he is now, he wouldn’t have wanted to be the creature they made him.’

  The shock caught up with me and I felt my face crumple. ‘But where is he?’

  Her expression softened. ‘I don’t know. If it helps, white light is usually a good sign.’

  I stared at her, willing her to be right. ‘He’s really gone?’

  She nodded.

  Fresh tears coursed down my face. ‘But I didn’t get to say goodbye. I didn’t get to tell him anything.’

  Celestine pulled me close and let me sob a moment. ‘I know. But if it’s any consolation, I think he realised there are things worse than death right there at the end. You and Nico saved him from that at least.’

  My eyes strayed back to the window. ‘Nico. I need to see him.’

  Gregor cast a grim glance over his shoulder. ‘We should not linger here. When the Solomonarii awake, they will be angry.’

  A stab of anxiety cut into me. ‘Nico’s father will kill him.’

  Gregor looked solemn. ‘Events happened very quickly. If Nico is lucky, the others will remember little of the details tonight and assume the ritual went wrong of its own accord.’

  ‘No, we can’t take the chance.’ I pushed my aunt away. ‘Nico risked everything to save Owen. I won’t abandon him.’

  For a moment, I thought Jeremy would argue. Then he turned and dashed towards the cottage. Before Celestine could stop me, I followed.

  Nico stayed motionless as we ran into the room. His purple bruises were indistinguishable from the thick black dust which covered his face. Jeremy gave his shoulder an urgent shake. ‘Nico, wake up!’

  Precious seconds ticked by as I willed Nico to open his eyes. ‘Please wake up,’ I begged, my gaze flickering to the slumped bodies of the other Solomonarii. ‘We don’t have much time.’

  Silence hung in the air. Then Nico let out a weak cough and his eyes twitched open. ‘Skye?’ he croaked.

  ‘I’m here,’ I murmured. ‘But we have to get out of here now.’

  ‘Any broken bones?’ Jeremy asked.

  Nico coughed again. ‘No, but my head feels like the roof fell on it.’

  Jeremy pulled him to his feet. ‘I’ve got a few paracetamol in the car. Let’s go and get them.’

  In other circumstances, I might have been amused at his practicality but I felt like my mouth would never smile again.

  Nico glanced at the prone body of his father and hesitated. ‘Is he . . .?’

  I shook my head. ‘Still breathing. But there’s no way you can stay with him now. He’ll know something went wrong. He’ll never trust you again and think what he’d do to you.’

  Pressing his lips together, Nico bowed his head. ‘I know.’

  I reached out and took his hand. ‘Come with me. We’ll help you.’

  He nodded wordlessly and we began to make our way outside. Then he stopped. ‘Wait!’

  Lurching forwards, he bent to pluck the square talisman his father had been using from the ground. He waved it at me, a grim expression on his face
. ‘If they come for me, I want to be ready.’

  A low groan sounded from the bearded man and Jeremy jerked his hand towards the door. ‘Hurry!’

  We didn’t need to be told twice. Hand in hand, Nico and I followed him to join the others. As we melted into the trees, I remembered the look on Owen’s face as he’d disappeared and I bit back a sob. More than anything, I wanted him to appear beside me, grinning about another close shave but I knew that was never going to happen. He was gone and no amount of wishing would ever bring him back.

  Chapter 19

  The journey back to the car was a blur. None of us had much to say and even Mary, who hadn’t seen exactly what had happened, seemed to know better than to ask questions. By the time we’d said a grave goodbye to Gregor, my numbed emotions were starting to thaw out and the pain began to seep in. Even nestling into Nico’s shoulder and feeling his arm around me didn’t help.

  I didn’t speak as Jeremy guided his Nissan Micra along the sleep-stilled roads. In halting words, Celestine put Mary out of her misery, although she’d guessed some of what had happened from the conversation outside the cottage. Mary listened in uncharacteristic silence. It wasn’t until my aunt had told the whole horrific tale that questions started to throng in my mind.

  ‘We exorcised him, didn’t we?’ I asked in a dull monotone. ‘We sent him somewhere terrible.’

  There was a brief moment of quiet, then Celestine answered. ‘In a way. Like I said before, when there’s a white light at the end, it usually means the ghost is passing across. The transition is less peaceful than we’re used to but I think they end up in the same place.’

  ‘But you don’t actually know for sure,’ I said and a note of bitterness crept into my voice. ‘All that crap about saving him and we’ve got no idea what happened.’

  My aunt studied me. ‘We did the best we could,’ she said softly. ‘Owen made some bad choices. We should be glad we were able to do anything at all. If it hadn’t been for Nico here, I dread to think what might have happened.’

  Nico looked pensive. ‘The Solomonarii did this to him. I feel bad about that.’

  Jeremy watched him in the rear-view mirror. ‘Without you, he might have suffered a much worse fate.’

  His words reminded me that Nico had lost plenty, too. ‘What are you going to do?’ I asked. ‘There’s no way you can go back home.’

  He ran a shaky hand over his face. ‘I don’t know. I think my mum’s sister might still live in London but I don’t know where.’

  Celestine turned in her seat. ‘We’ll help you find her. And in the meantime, you’re welcome to stay with us.’

  Nico smiled. ‘Thanks,’ he said, sounding grateful. ‘I’d like that.’

  Now that I knew Nico had somewhere to go, the ache of Owen’s loss took over again. ‘Isn’t there any way we can try to contact ghosts who’ve passed across, to see if any of them know anything about Owen?’

  Mary bared her teeth in a stumpy growl. ‘There are those who would say aye but that path is shrouded in darkness. Naught but the foolhardiest of men chooseth to walk it.’

  Celestine’s face crinkled in sympathy. ‘I know it hurts but, wherever he is, he’s better off there than staying here as one of the Eaten.’

  I gazed at her for several long seconds before turning my head to stare at the blacked-out streets, unable to shake the feeling that we hadn’t saved Owen at all. Closing my eyes, I leaned my forehead against the cold window and tried to block out the image of him scrambling on the ground, trying to find a handhold on the dusty cottage floor. In my mind, I saw the flash of amber in his eyes in the last seconds before he’d disappeared and I knew I’d be seeing it in my dreams for a long time. Nico squeezed my shoulder in wordless sympathy and wiped away the single tear trickling down my cheek. For the first time since I’d understood what being psychic really meant, I’d failed to help a ghost find peace. It was something I’d have to live with until the day I died. If I was really unlucky, it wouldn’t end there.

  Chapter 20

  Hyde Park was busy again. I wasn’t surprised. It was the weekend and the weather was glorious; any Londoners who hadn’t escaped the city were making the most of the sunshine all across the city’s open spaces and Hyde Park was no exception.

  I was sitting by the Serpentine, waiting for Cerys, the way I had every weekend for the five weeks since Owen disappeared. The water glittered as the sunlight danced across it but I couldn’t bring myself to look for long. It reminded me of Owen and the thought of him still made me ache inside. I didn’t think the guilt would ever go, no matter how often Celestine and Jeremy told me not to blame myself, that I couldn’t have foreseen the terrible events of that night in the woods. In my mind, I could still see that inky blackness consuming him and feel his fear as the full horror hit him.

  ‘Hello again,’ Cerys said, stopping on the path in front of me and smiling. ‘You’re here more often than I am these days.’

  I swallowed and returned her smile. ‘It looks that way, doesn’t it? How are you?’

  She sat beside me and proceeded to fill me in on everything that had happened in the week since I’d last seen her. She was coping with revision for her end of year exams, she said, and looking forward to a week off school at half-term. Her parents had agreed to let her stay overnight at a friend’s house in a few weeks, which they’d refused to consider in the months immediately after her brother’s death. In fact, she said, they seemed to be OK. Not great, but getting better.

  I listened, wondering whether this would be the week I’d tell her the truth about how I’d met Owen. After he’d gone, I’d been restless and found my troubled spirit soothed at the lake. The first time I’d met her had been an accident – she’d been there, staring at the water and we’d exchanged half-smiles. Then I’d remembered that I’d wanted Owen to talk to her through me and I’d hung around the following week, hoping to bump into her. Now I looked forward to our chats; I liked hearing about Owen’s family and I was glad they were healing the wound his death had left in their lives. It made me feel a little less desolate.

  ‘Mum started talking about going back to work this week,’ Cerys said, leaning back in the seat and stretching in a way that reminded me of her brother all over again. ‘Only part-time but it’s better than nothing.’

  I smiled. ‘That’s great, Cerys. I bet Owen would be pleased, too.’

  ‘Yeah, I think he would.’ Her expression grew thoughtful. ‘You’re going to think this is weird but I used to talk to him all the time here. It felt like he could hear me, even if he never answered, like when he had his iPod on and was pretending not to listen.’

  I swallowed. ‘That doesn’t sound weird.’

  Cerys sighed. ‘I told him all kinds of stuff, things I’d never have said when he was alive.’ She grimaced. ‘I think I even told him I loved him, which I definitely never said to his face.’

  I blinked and looked away before she saw my eyes swimming with tears. ‘Some people think the dead still hear us.’

  Nodding, she said, ‘Yeah, I know. But lately, it feels different here, like he’s not – I don’t know – listening any more. I miss him.’ Shaking her head, she gave an embarrassed little laugh. ‘You probably think I’m mental.’

  I squeezed my eyes closed. ‘No.’

  Cerys leaned towards me, her grey eyes filled with concern. ‘Have I upset you or something?’

  Opening my eyes, I gazed at her. ‘Suppose I told you that you were right all those times you thought Owen was nearby, listening to you?’

  She grinned. ‘Now who’d be being mental? There’s no such thing as ghosts.’

  ‘That’s pretty much what he said, the first time I met him,’ I replied. ‘Even though he was one.’

  There was a long silence. Cerys stared at me and the grin slid from her face. ‘You’re being serious.’

  I nodded. ‘You know I never mentioned exactly where I knew him from? That’s because I didn’t meet him until after he’d drowned.
’

  Her mouth fell open. ‘You actually expect me to believe you see dead people? Like on that film?’

  She could have meant any one of a number of films; I didn’t ask which one. ‘All the time.’

  ‘Shut up,’ she said, her tone a mixture of scorn and curiosity. ‘You’re making it up.’

  I chose my next words with care. Whatever I said could tip the balance one way or another. ‘When you were younger, Owen told me you used to love the Teletubbies.’

  She frowned. ‘So did every other kid my age. It doesn’t mean my dead brother told you about it.’

  I dredged my memory for other things Owen had told me. ‘You wet the bed when you went to stay with your grandparents and told them it was him. It was your pogo stick he borrowed when he cut his face. You used to have a teddy bear called Jock and you wouldn’t let anyone touch it apart from you and Owen.’ My heart thudding against my ribs, I met her incredulous gaze. ‘His greatest dream was to drive at Silverstone, although he’d have settled for Brand’s Hatch, and he was the South-East England go-karting champion when he was ten.’

  A look of pure confusion crossed her face. ‘How do you know all this stuff?’

  Projecting a calmness I didn’t feel, I smiled. ‘Owen told me. About a month ago.’

  She shifted on the bench and, for a minute, I thought she’d bolt and I’d never see her again. I watched as she struggled to absorb what I’d told her. ‘I don’t believe in the afterlife.’