DEAD GOOD

by Cooper, D A

  ‘The poor woman. Didn’t she have bereavement counselling or anything?’ Mrs Hale asks.

  “Leo’s Mum” I mouth to keep my mum in the loop.

  Leo shakes his head. ‘She and Dad decided to get through it together – on their own.’

  ‘Oh God, this is so sad,’ I wail. ‘I don’t think I could bear to see her. I’d want to wrap her in my arms and explain that you’re not so much dead as still virtually living in the house you died in an annoying but enjoying-haunting-me-kinda-way.’

  Leo forces a tight smile and continues.

  ‘Dad still does carpentry work when he gets it - Mum works in an office in town – I don’t know where and I can’t visit her there ‘cause I never went when I was alive. She does help Uncle Vittorio in the restaurant when she can – it takes her mind off of us – and also reminds her too much of us – it’s a bitter-sweet torture for her. I wish I could get through to her. I wish I could go back and do things differently… I wish I hadn’t…’ Leo trails off and covers his eyes with his hands.

  I can’t bear seeing anybody suffer. I can’t bear especially seeing a man reduce to tears and so I do the only thing I can under these unnatural circumstances and offer him a Kleenex which he manages to laugh gamely at.

  ‘Thanks,’ he ignores the tissue and instead swipes his tears away from his face with his misty-manly hands then rubs them on his denimed thighs. My insides perform a hundred different ways of weeping for him. I want badly to hold him and smooth away his hurt. I want to tell him that this will all get better and that it will soon all be over and all the madness will go away and there is a bigger and brighter future to look forward to. But how can you reassure a dead person that things will get better?

  I’d forgotten how he can hear everything I think and frankly right now I don’t much mind. So there.

  ‘Thanks,’ his head nods at me.

  ‘Perhaps we need to try and find out a bit more about Leo’s parents,’ Mum tries, ‘maybe there’s a connection to them still – apart from the fact their children died, obviously – but maybe there’s something else that’s preventing these people from moving on – from all of them being able to move on?’

  Mrs Hale’s eyebrows lift slightly as she listens to Mum’s suggestion and I feel a warm spread of gratitude and love for this wonderful woman I’m lucky to have as a parent. She’s a bit cool, isn’t she? I mean, she’s had to cope with a lot of crap recently, right? Unemployment, poverty, house move, haunted house. it can’t be easy, can it? And all she has as proof that there’re eight of us in this house and not just the four she can see and communicate with – is a slightly angry daughter and a mad old neighbour. Ex neighbour I mean. Actually I mean Penny. She’s alright really.

  twenty-four

  Mum and Dad stay downstairs to work out with Penny how they’re going to find out about Leo’s parents whilst I run upstairs to get changed out of my school uniform.

  A part of me is scared. What happens if we meet Leo’s parents and one of us lets it slip that we’re living with their dead relatives – won’t that make us look like a bunch of crazies? Wouldn’t it just make everything worse – open up old wounds for them and all that stuff? I’m feeling very nervous about this idea. But there really isn’t anything else we can do, is there? I’m running out of ideas anyway – and Amber’s “ideas” thus far have left a great deal to be desired.

  No, I decide as I pull on my favourite pair of skinny jeans, this is going to be a positive thing. And my god, but we could all do with a bit of cheering up right now, eh?

  Oh - Leo? I asked him to beat it whilst I get changed. Actually, he said I needn’t have asked him - like he’s already said before – he does have a sense of decency about him. He said he was going to hang around downstairs a bit longer to see what everyone said when I wasn’t there. Paranoid? Me? But I must admit I do feel very relieved we now have backup. It’s just strange to imagine backup coming in the shape of Mad old… I mean Mrs Hale and not an army of uniformed officers.

  I’m just applying a dab of lipgloss and peering into the bathroom mirror when Leo’s familiar face appears behind me – all vague and ghostly. It doesn’t bother me now. When ‘This’ is all over, I don’t think I’ll be worried about watching another spooky film for as long as I live. I’ve always hated the bathroom mirror sequence – you know, when one of the main characters is doing something so simple and straightforward as brushing their hair or teeth or checking for spots or whatever and then they open the mirrored medicine cabinet door and have a rummage about inside for something and then BAM! The minute they close the cabinet back again there’s some hideous looking creature-person staring wild-eyed and blood-hungry right back at them – behind them in the mirror.

  *shiver*.

  And the stupid thing is, although I always expect this to happen – I bet it’s called the “Bathroom Mirror Scene” in the world of film making – it still makes me freak when it does happen! Like I’ve said though, I don’t watch too many scary movies. But even some 15’s are scary enough, right? Boo? House of Wax? And I seriously thought Paris Hilton’s death was inspired. No, I did.

  ‘They’re talking about the re-enactment thing that happened last night.’ He peers into the mirror at my lip-dabbing.

  ‘Yeah?’ I carry on preening, pulling at my eyelashes which got all glooped together from the teary bits earlier.

  ‘Yeah. Your mum and dad reckon it was a one-off – okay, a two-off - but Penny says-‘

  ‘Ooo-ooh! Penny says!’ I mock him, patting the glow off my nose. ‘Get you!’ He ignores me.

  ‘- says that it would be unusual if it was. She certainly seems to know what she’s talking about. Anyway I told her she’s right – it’s happened a lot already since we died. It’s like watching re-runs of the worst TV drama in the world – and it’s dead boring.’

  He smiles hopefully, his eyebrows raised.

  ‘Good one. No, I do see what you did there. ’ I tell him, snapping my make up bag shut and turning to grin.

  His smile widens. It’s a good, strong, happy smile and it makes my stomach flip.

  ‘Nice to know,’ he says.

  I’m aware this could mean many things and I choose not to dwell too long on it, considering he’d hear my options anyway.

  ‘So,’ I turn back to the mirror. ‘How does it work then, this re-enactment thing? I mean do you have to go through exactly the same movements that you did on the actual night or are you, like conscious and can you do different things… like… I don’t know – maybe just sit it out and wait for everything...’

  ‘We don’t seem to have any choice in the matter,’ he runs a sad hand through his hair and holds in at the top of his head. ‘I’ve tried everything. I even tried staying in the shed once, I don’t know how long for because… you know… our timeline thing… but the next thing I knew I was lying flat out on our bedroom floor again, so it’s definitely something out of our control. I just don’t know the answer…’

  I like the way he said “our bedroom” and it makes my tummy fizz. I hope he didn’t hear me think that. I try and think of choking to death on smoke to cover it up.

  He’s pacing now – well, only about three paces because this bathroom’s so bloody poky, but pacing and rubbing his forehead in a very frustrated manner.

  ‘We were locked in that night,’ he frowns, ‘locked inside this burning “shit-hole” as you call it.’ I swallow in a kind of apology. ‘Trapped like animals,’ he says. ‘With no way of getting out…it’s like a torture… sometimes I think I remember where the key is but by the time I’ve woken up and worked out what the hell’s happening and then realised that there’s flames just absolutely everywhere downstairs and that Nonna is very probably already dead in the living room… ha! Living Room-’

  I want to remind him that it was me who reported on the irony of this room name, but he’s in full flow and I don’t want to interrupt in case it makes him angrier.

  ‘The key…’ I say slow
ly, an encouraging light bulb moment flickering inside my head.. ‘The Key…’

  ‘Yeah, the key?’ Leo repeats, his eyebrows dancing sexily.

  I make my own eyebrows do the same and smile stupidly when he stops and frowns instead. ‘That’s what Mad…I mean Mrs Hale was saying, wasn’t she?’ I explain, ‘about there being a key as to why you’re still here…?’

  ‘Yeah but I think she was talking more about a reason, not a real key… I think she meant that there must be a connection – like you perhaps being my Living Guide or something – or maybe even Amber…?’ Now he’s laughing.

  ‘No… no… listen!’ I’m all excited now and I’m on my feet and pacing (about three paces but it’s helping me think better) ‘I really think that the key IS the key, do you see? You have to open the front door to escape and make your way - away from here and onto somewhere else. Maybe this is what you need to do?’

  ‘Hmmm…’ Leo’s eyes are darkening with deep thought and it’s kind of nice to be taken seriously for a change rather than for him to be batting back an insult at how stupid he thinks I am. ‘You actually might be onto something…. do you think that’s what we should be concentrating on then?

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yes you. What do you think?’

  ‘I’m not …. Um….let me think properly… I’m trying to work out… wait…’ I go silent again. I need to think carefully.

  Leo looks agitated and bangs the bath again. Once more a dull thud resonates through the room. Something is happening inside my head. This simple action is joining a meeting with some of the other occasions he’s been able to touch things, move things… make noises… the knock on my bedroom door… jumping in the puddle… banging on this bath…

  His face turns to me slowly. Like he knows I’m thinking of something. Well, I mean, he can hear what I’m thinking anyway. I keep my head bowed. I’ve got to try and follow this train of thought through. It feels like I might be onto something…

  ‘Who’s opening all those drawers and going all crazy in the kitchen during these re-enactments?’ I ask uncertainly.

  ‘I think that must be Nonno. He’s downstairs too, he was in the kitchen. I think he must have gone to the doors and realised they were locked and panicked because he didn’t know where we kept the keys…’

  ‘That’s why the taps turn on then,’ I say. ‘I guess he wanted to try and put the flames out… shit, shit, shit…. I need to think… I thought I had something then…something to do with finding the key and the noise you made on the bath… oh god, where was I going with that thought…’

  ‘You had something,’ he says. ‘I felt it. You were onto something. You were very nearly there… keep thinking… keep thinking along the same lines… go on…keep thinking… you can do it.’

  I try and get back to the place where I was a few seconds ago. The knock on my bedroom door, Nonno looking for the key, the puddle, this banging on the bath.

  ‘So… if you want it hard enough and do it spontaneously enough… remember, that’s what Mrs Hale said? You can make contact with living things…solid things – stuff that’s in this world- the now – not yours …’

  ‘Y-e-a-h,’ he says slowly, trying to work out how this will help. ‘So…?’

  ‘So how about we see exactly how much you really can do - yeah?’ I lift my eyes optimistically and know that, okay, it might not be anything – but at least it’s something and who knows what’s possible until we try it, right?

  Now there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes.

  twenty-five

  ‘I think it sounds like a plan,’ Dad says almost soberly after I’ve told him what Leo and I have been discussing. ‘Although I’m not sure I like the idea of you spending half an hour upstairs with a boy we’ve never even met; I don’t think it’s…’

  ‘Oh for goodness’ sake, Phillip, it’s not as if they’re going to get up to anything is it!’ Mum laughs nervously back, her eyes flitting from Dad’s to mine. ‘I mean it’s not as if the lad’s in a position to take advantage of Maddie, now is he?’ she nods, satisfied at me and I raise my eyebrows gratefully back. Oh-kay then. Not awkward. Not awkward at all. I daredn’t even look at Leo…. He can probably feel how hot my face is from where he’s standing and hear how embarrassed I feel right now anyway.

  I hear a ghostly snort and my pent-up mortification releases slightly. Thank god he’s got a sense of humour. Thank god it didn’t die with him.

  ‘It’s certainly an idea - and not entirely beyond the realms of possibility,’ Mrs Hale cuts in. ‘And as I said before, if Leo really, really wants to do something, he has to do it wholeheartedly and with every fibre of his spirit – if he wants to make something move or connect with a living thing. It’s definitely worth a try, whilst we try to find a way of communicating with Leo’s parents – try to ascertain why they’re all still here,’ she pulls her sleeve back and looks at her watch and then at Mum. ‘I’m sorry, I really have to get going. I have a reading at six.’

  Mum hugs her. I’m a bit surprised at this, bearing in mind it feels like we’ve only just met Mrs Hale – but then I guess Mum’s just so relieved that we have someone on side we can tell all this to; somebody who can maybe help us as well – this has given them a bond I suppose. I’m grateful too. I guess we all should be. I don’t feel quite so adrift as I did yesterday. I’m beginning to feel a bit more normal, if that’s a normal thing to be thinking.

  About ten minutes after she’s left, I am surprised to be speaking to Mrs Hale again – this time on the telephone.

  ‘She wants to speak to you,’ I tell Mum as I hand her the receiver.

  Dad, Davey and I (and Leo, of course) watch Mum as she sits at the kitchen table, turning her “Greatest Mum in the World” mug around on it’s coaster. She nods, does a few “hmm”s and agrees with whatever it is Mrs Hale is telling her – then she lifts her eyes to her audience (us), puts her mug down and flaps an urgent hand around, making swirly “I need a pen” movements with it. Immediately Dad leaps towards the nearest pen and hands it to his frantic wife. Mum takes it, rolls her eyes and whispers loudly “paper?” at which Dad does an embarrassed head-bob and passes her the newspaper he’s been scouring all day. We watch as Mum scribbles and nods, thanks and eventually puts down the phone.

  ‘Well?’ Dad says eagerly.

  Mum smiles probably the broadest smile I’ve seen this side of ‘The Move’ and her eyes look all happy.

  ‘What is it?’ I can’t help smiling back; it’s infectious.

  ‘You won’t believe this, but there’s a part time accounts job going at the Restaurant….’ She beams.

  ‘The Restaurant?’ Dad repeats.

  ‘Yes - the Restaurant – Leo’s Uncles Restaurant. Restaurant Gardella – Penny’s just walked past it and there’s a notice up in the window saying they need someone to help with the accounts.’

  ‘Seriously?’ Dad frowns suspiciously.

  ‘No way.’ I’m with Dad – I mean, what are the chances, right?

  ‘He is pretty rubbish at adding up, Uncle Vittorio,’ Leo adds and I turn to him.

  ‘Yeah…’ I say, ‘but don’t you think it’s a bit of a co-incidence that your Uncle needs someone to help him and Dad can do Accounts blindfolded with his hands behind his back, and we were only … a few minutes ago even … working out a way to get a bit closer to your family – and then Penny … I mean Mrs Hale… I mean Penny, just happens to notice a sign saying they… well… it all sounds a bit too good to be true if you ask me.’

  There are three pairs of eyes on me now. Davey has found a lump of goo on the floor and is trying to get his slipper to stick to it, so he’s not particularly interested in listening to my apprehensions.

  Dad is the first to speak. ‘You’re right. It’s probably been up there ages and the job’s gone now anyway. It’s a massive co-incidence, and Maddie’s right, what would be the chances, eh? Never mind. Let’s move on.’

  ‘Phillip?’ Mum’s lost her happy face
now and she’s scowling at her downbeat husband. ‘This could also be a sign.’

  ‘A sign?’ I nearly laugh. ‘Since when have you ever believed in signs and shi… stuff?’ I bluster.

  ‘Okay then - since when did we ever live in a house that comes to life with a family of dead people and have mediums round for a cup of tea?’ Mum bats back.

  Dad sighs and scratches his head.

  ‘Fair point,’ he says, and Leo nods his wholehearted agreement.