She shook her head and waved his concern away. As she took her hand away, I could see that she was smiling.
‘Yes, darling,’ she said. ‘I understand. Thank you for ringing.’ She nodded as she listened again. ‘All right. you’d best get off to bed. But before you go, is your daddy there?’ There was a delay while the phone was passed over. ‘Hello. Marc,’ Mum said. ‘Can I pick Naomi up from school tomorrow and bring her here for tea?’ She listened to what Marc was saying. ‘I know, it’s been too long. Goodnight.’
She handed the telephone back to my dad. There were tears in her eyes but for once they were not tears of sadness.
‘What’s wrong?’ Dad asked.
‘Nothing,’ Mum said, ‘everything’s fine.’
‘Is Naomi coming for tea tomorrow?’ There was a hint of surprise in Dad’s voice.
‘Yes.’ There was a smile on her face. ‘I thought I’d ask Naomi if she wanted ballet lessons.’
Dad looked puzzled before picking the newspaper up again. He’d become used to Mum’s erratic behaviour and tried to play it down.
Mum thought about picking up the crossword where she’d left it but changed her mind as her hand hovered over the magazine. Instead, she reached over and picked up the telephone again.
‘Who’re you ringing now?’ Dad asked as he turned the page.
‘Lizzie.’ She drummed her fingers on her knee as she waited for the connection to be made. ‘Lizzie,’ she said excitedly, ‘it’s Peg … No, everything’s fine.’ I had grown to hate one-sided conversations. ‘Lizzie, listen.’ Mum lifted her head slightly and took in a deep breath which rattled in her throat. ‘Do you remember me telling you I wished I’d let Ellen have ballet lessons?’ Mum was nodding like a wise old sage. ‘Naomi’s just called and told me that Ellen says it doesn’t matter about the ballet lessons.’
I turned to George to share my excitement but he wasn’t there. He had moved to stand behind my dad and was reading the newspaper over his shoulder. Mum and Aunt Lizzie carried on chatting. When their conversation was over, Dad asked, ‘Did you leave the window open in the kitchen?’
Mum glanced briefly into the room. ‘No,’ she said, ‘why?’
‘There’s a draught coming from somewhere,’ he said as he turned another page.
Mum seemed startled. She looked around the room eagerly. ‘She’s here,’ Mum whispered.
‘Who’s here?’ Dad asked without really paying attention.
‘Ellen.’
‘Peg?’ Now she had Dad’s complete attention.
‘She’s here,’ Mum said, still looking around the room. Her eyes rested on George for a second.
‘What do you mean? What did Naomi say to you? What’s all this about ballet lessons?’
Mum sat down and leaned towards Dad.
‘No, no before that,’ she said to herself. She took a minute to put things in order. ‘After Dad’s funeral Lizzie told me she’d found Naomi front of the sofa in the other room talking to someone.’ Mum looked at her hands as she spoke. ‘There was no-one there.’
Dad took a deep breath and put the paper on the coffee table. Mum looked at him.
‘She was talking to Ellen,’ Mum said breathlessly.
‘Is that what Naomi said?’
Mum nodded and Dad lifted his eyes to the ceiling and sighed.
‘Lizzie said that Naomi had told her that Ellen had said she had to make me understand it wasn’t my fault.’
Dad looked confused.
‘Ellen told Naomi that Lizzie had to make me understand it wasn’t my fault,’ Mum emphasised.
Dad nodded slowly. ‘And Naomi said that to Lizzie?’
‘Yes,’ Mum insisted. ‘At the time I thought Lizzie was making it up. You know Lizzie and I have never been close. But since Ellen went, Lizzie’s been there for me and we’ve become so much closer.’ She had that glazed look in her eyes again. ‘Anyway,’ Mum came back from that distant place, ‘like I said, I didn’t believe her. I thought she was making it up.’
‘Why would she make it up?’ Dad was still confused.
‘To make me feel better,’ Mum said. Dad accepted that with a tilt of his head. ‘But when Naomi rang just now she gave me another message.’
‘From Ellen?’ I thought Dad sounded a little sceptical.
‘Yes. Naomi said that her mummy had told her to tell me it didn’t matter about the ballet lessons.’
‘Ballet lessons?’
‘Do you remember how when she was ten she wanted to have ballet lessons? Well, I was talking to Lizzie about how I wished I’d let her have them. Ellen told Naomi that it doesn’t matter. Don’t you see, Brian? Ellen must have been there when I told Lizzie. She must have heard me say I was sorry.’ She looked around again, searching. ‘And she’s here now.’
‘But I thought you didn’t believe that Naomi could see Ellen,’ Dad said.
‘I’ve changed my mind.’ Mum was still searching the room.
Dad chose his words carefully. ‘And now you believe Naomi can see Ellen?’
Mum looked at him and almost resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. ‘Of course she can. How else would she know about the ballet lessons?’
I was surprised it had been so easy to convince my mother, and I said as much to George.
‘She’s at that stage of her grief,’ he said.
We left Mum looking through the telephone directory for dance studios and Dad saying that maybe she should talk to Marc first. I hoped she would take his advice.
‘George,’ I said, ‘please tell me I didn’t die so Mum and Aunt Lizzie could finally start acting like sisters.’
‘Would that be a bad reason to die?’ he asked, turning his head to one side.
‘Too bloody right it would,’ I exclaimed.
‘Why?’
‘Because …’ I couldn’t think of a reason.
‘There would be worse things to die for,’ George said.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I was grateful that for once Mum listened to Dad’s advice. She’d called Marc while Naomi was sitting on her granddad’s knee, listening to him tell her story of when he was a little boy.
‘I should have done it for Ellen,’ Mum told him. ‘Let me do it for her daughter.’
For the first time in a long time, Marc agreed without argument.
My death seemed to be bringing the whole world closer together.
I think that was when I finally understood about my issues, and said the same to George.
He breathed in through his nose and nodded his head as he let the breath out the same way.
George and I were there when Mum got the phone call from Marc asking if Naomi could stay overnight with her and Dad in a couple of days’ time.
‘He’s going out with Liam,’ she explained to Dad.
But it wasn’t just Liam. Liam’s wife Catherine was there. And alongside her was another woman.
‘Marc, this is Amy,’ Catherine said. ‘Amy, this is Marc.’ She waved her hands between them in the way people do when they introduce strangers to each other.
‘Hi.’ Marc looked like a schoolboy again and could only meet Amy’s gaze for the briefest of seconds.
‘Hello.’ Amy’s voice was more controlled.
I walked around the group slowly, eyeing the stranger. Finally, I settled beside George again.
Catherine and Liam moved through the doors of the restaurant they had met outside. Marc and Amy looked at each other.
‘Shall we?’ Amy asked after a few seconds.
‘Oh, yes.’ Marc gave a short, embarrassed laugh and moved towards the door. He pulled it open and allowed Amy to walk through before following her at a distance.
Catherine and Liam were already seated at a table and Marc quickened his step so he could pull Amy’s seat out for her. As she pulled her seat in, Marc took his own beside her.
George started to move towards the table but I put my hand out to stop him. I preferred to watch from a distance.
&n
bsp; ‘You can’t go in there.’ George said, trying to keep up with me.
‘Too late,’ I said triumphantly. ‘I’m already here.’ I looked around the gents toilets, taking in the three cubicles on the left and row of urinals to the right. Marc and Liam stood side by side on our right. I marvelled at how easily they could keep up a conversation.
Their voices were low and, along with the other sounds that were going on in there, meant that I couldn’t hear a thing. I gave up.
‘You all right?’ Liam asked as they re-entered the restaurant.
‘Yeah,’ Marc replied a little too quickly.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ Marc tried to laugh it off.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘And United are going to win the league this season.’
‘In your dreams.’ Marc looked at the table where Catherine and Amy were deep in conversation. ‘It’s nothing.’
Liam grabbed Marc’s arm to stop him. ‘What’s wrong?’
Marc looked straight into Liam’s eyes. ‘Nothing wrong,’ he said deliberately. ‘And that’s what wrong.’ He stared at his feet as he spoke. ‘Amy’s a really nice person and I’m enjoying her company. I’m having a really good time …’ The end of the sentence disappeared before it came out of Marc’s mouth.
Liam looked from his friend to their companions.
‘It’s OK to have a good time,’ Liam told him.
‘I know,’ Marc said.
‘So don’t beat yourself up about it.’
‘I know, but …’
‘No buts, Marc,’ Liam said. ‘It doesn’t mean you love Ellen any less just because you’re having dinner with another woman.’
‘I know.’ If he knew so much, why was he having so much trouble? Marc pushed his hand through his hair. ‘I’ll never stop loving Ellen,’ he said.
‘Of course you won’t,’ Liam told him. ‘Nobody thinks that.’
‘It’s just that …’ Marc took in and let out a huge breath. ‘I need to feel loved.’ He looked at the floor again. ‘I’ve got Naomi, who is the most precious thing in the world … but she can’t give me the love I need.’
‘It’s alright to feel that way, its natural.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes, it is,’ Liam slapped Marc’s arm. ‘Now, come on before they send out a search party.’
Liam led the way with Marc a couple of steps behind. We stayed long enough to see Amy’s face light up when Marc smiled at her.
George and I walked in silence. The people we passed were snuggling into their coats against the cold night air. Fortunately for me I didn’t feel the cold as I had no coat to snuggle into. I snuggled into myself anyway.
I put my head down to avoid seeing anyone, concentrating on my feet as I moved them one in front of the other.
I had George by my side but I was alone with my thoughts. I replayed the conversation between Liam and Marc. I heard Marc’s words over and over again.
He needed a woman’s love. He wanted a woman’s love.
I knew he deserved a woman’s love.
I wondered if another woman would taste Marc’s lips this evening and realised I minded a little less than before.
I was tempted to go back to the house that had been my home. I wanted to see Marc. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to tell him it was all right for him to feel the way he did. But I was scared I wouldn’t find him alone.
I spent much of the night in silence. I walked and thought all through the long, dark hours with George at my side. He didn’t prompt me to tell him what I was thinking. Maybe he had thoughts of his own. I never took the chance to ask.
Hearing Marc express his needs to Liam made me realise how selfish I was being. Marc was alive and he needed things. He needed to feel things again, things that were beyond the capabilities of a dead woman. Marc needed another woman to do that for him now. I had no right to expect it to be any other way.
I tried putting myself in his position, imagining what I would do if he had been the one who died.
I stopped looking at my own feet for a moment and looked at George’s as they kept pace with mine. Our steps were synchronised as we moved at a comfortable pace. The whole thing about George was comfortable. With George, I didn’t have to pretend. He seemed to know me almost as well as I knew myself. But of course he would; he’d read my file.
George had come to mean more to me than I thought any man other than Marc could and it wasn’t until that moment that I realised how much I would miss him if he was gone.
‘What will happen when this is over?’ I asked.
‘When what’s over?’
‘This.’ I turned full circle with my arms spread out.
‘The end of the world?’ George looked puzzled.
‘No,’ I laughed. ‘I mean when I move from here.’
‘Beyond the light?’
‘Yes.’ I looked into his sapphire eyes and marvelled at their intensity. ‘Will you go with me?’
He lowered his long lashes briefly. ‘If you want me to.’
‘I can do this,’ I told him. ‘I can deal with these issues, but only if you’re there.’
George took a step towards me. He put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I’m your Greeter,’ he said in a deep voice. ‘You can’t get rid of me that easily.’
My lips formed the start of a smile and I looked sideways into his face. His smile was in his eyes rather than on his lips and the first glow of dawn rising above his head caught the tips of his hair and formed a halo.
His eyes were sparkling even brighter and I felt myself moving towards them. His hand still rested on my shoulder and I slid my own hand inside his jacket to rest on the waistband of his jeans. I don’t know who pulled who, probably it was us both. Suddenly our bodies were touching. George lowered his head and I rose on my toes until our lips touched. His lips felt warm and tasted sweet.
When our lips parted we held each other with our eyes for a few moments. The corners of his eyes formed deep creases as he smiled.
Slowly, I lowered my feet to the floor. We both turned in opposite directions, George straightening his jacket and me smoothing my hair.
‘That’ll be me sacked,’ he said.
‘What?’ I turned back. ‘Why?’
Surely he wouldn’t have to go away because of one kiss?
George took his cigarette out of his pocket and put it in his mouth. His cheeks formed holes in the side of his face as he sucked. He took the cigarette away and let the air out through his nose.
‘I’m pretty sure it says something in the manual about not kissing the Client.’
‘Client?’ I screwed up my eyes.
‘It’s just a word.’
‘Client?’ I repeated with mock annoyance.
‘Yes, Client,’ he said, pinching the end of the cigarette and putting it in his pocket. ‘I’m the Greeter, you’re the Client.’
‘Is that how they refer to dead people in the manual?’ I asked.
George looked at me and took a deep breath in through his nose. ‘It’s just a word.’
‘Will you really get the sack?’
‘Don’t know, maybe. Who cares anyway? I’m crap at it and the pay’s rubbish.’
It felt natural to be holding George’s hand as we walked along the street towards the rising sun.
Later, I would wonder why what happened did but at that moment I revelled in how good it felt.
I knew I wanted Marc to feel the same way.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
I wanted to see Marc. I wanted to see how I would feel when I saw him. We waited for him in his office.
Stephen was already there even though it wasn’t yet eight o’clock. Judging by the dark rims around his eyes, he hadn’t had much sleep. As he stood to go to the coffee machine I could see the heavy creasing on his shirt and wondered if the little sleep he had got had been in the chair he was returning to.
By the speed that Stephen drank the coffee it was far f
rom hot. He finished it quickly and tossed the plastic cup towards the bin. It hit the rim and fell down on the wrong side. Stephen eyed it but didn’t pick it up. He returned to whatever was on the screen.
I watched the hands of the clock turn, eager in the knowledge that Marc would soon be here. Now and again, George and I looked at each other nervously.
The door opened and Marc walked in, looking more relaxed than I had seen him since I’d been dead. He looked different and he walked like a man who’d found reason to live.
The plastic cup that Stephen had tossed was still where it had fallen. Marc scooped it up and dropped it in the bin.
Marc looked at his colleague and perched himself on the edge of Stephen’s desk.
‘I know, I know,’ Stephen said. ‘I look like crap.’
Marc gave a non-committal nod.
‘Baby keeping you up?’
Baby? When did they have a baby? Why didn’t Marc tell me? Was I was dead when it was born? Of course. you silly cow. More and more each day I was realising the world didn’t stop when a person died.
‘Five times last night,’ Stephen sounded weary.
‘It’ll get better.’
‘That’s what they all say.’
‘It will.’ Marc picked up a file from Stephen’s desk and started to flick through it. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘Are you and Linda going to the Christmas party?’
Christmas party? I hadn’t realised it was so close.
‘Wasn’t planning on it.’
‘You should,’ Marc urged. ‘It’ll do you good. And more to the point, it’ll do Linda good. Look,’ he said, ‘Linda had a baby six weeks ago and she’s spent all of those six weeks looking after this screaming demanding …’ His hands moved in small circles. ‘… thing.’ Perhaps not the best way to describe a baby but Stephen seemed to get the point. ‘But who’s looking after Linda? Ask her if she’d like to go. I’ll bet you she says yes. She’ll jump at the chance of a night out.’ Stephen was taking the bait. ‘You’ve got to show her that you see her as a woman and not just the mother of your child.’
‘Do you think?’
‘I don’t just think. I know.’
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