by Sarah Dalton
“I’ve already been looking for her,” he says. “I’ve been looking for a long time.”
“But, why can’t you tell Willa? Surely she’d want to know?” I ask.
“It’s more complicated than that. There are things that happened on the commune.” He grimaces. “Willa wouldn’t want any of that dredged up again.”
“So you’re doing it without telling her? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m not going to keep it from her forever. Just for a little while longer until I find some information.”
“Don’t you have anything yet?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Father Merciful did a good job of hiding their tracks.”
I still find it difficult to imagine what it was like growing up in a cult where the leader insists on being called “Father Merciful”. Even the sound of his name makes me shudder.
“I can help you if you like,” I say.
“There’s a lot you don’t know,” Jack says.
“Then tell me,” I reply.
Chapter Five
MARY
I’m as light as a feather. I could giggle. Maybe I will giggle, no one is stopping me. No one is around me with their frowns and bad moods. It’s just me in this sun-filled place, with the scent of fresh grass and pine in the air. The lawn is even bigger this time, and the swing set is longer. There are four swings now.
My skin is warm. The breeze continues to tickle my neck. What am I wearing this time? A beautiful silk dress with cap sleeves, in my favourite colour—blue. Calming. Cool. It rustles when I walk, but all I hear is the sound of the sea. The ocean waves crash against the sand. A seashell appears on the lawn.
“What are you doing here?” I say. “You’re a long way from home.” I pick it up and place it to my ear. The ocean.
“Are you happy?” asks the voice.
I bend my knees to sit, and as I do, a picnic blanket appears on the ground. I collapse into it and laugh as I tumble backwards. A box of chocolates appears by my side. I take one and pop it into my mouth, closing my eyes to relish the explosion of raspberry. My favourite.
“I got everything you like,” he says.
“Thank you,” I breathe. “I love it here.”
“Will you stay with me?” he asks.
“I’ll stay for as long as you want.” I lean back into the blanket and stare up at the clouds. They’re so bright and fluffy, like sheep.
This place brings out the best in me. I’m a girl again. A child, perhaps. I’m released from the burden of… what? What is it that I’m usually so bothered about? I can’t even remember. Well, it can’t be important. All that matters is lying here, eating chocolates, staring at the clouds, smelling the nearby forest.
“No,” says the voice. “You don’t want to go in there.”
“I don’t want to go in there,” I repeat. “The forest is bad.”
“That’s right, Mary. Stay on the lawn where it’s safe. That’s what I made for you so you’d be happy. You want to be happy don’t you?”
“Of course,” I say, while chewing on another chocolate. “I want to be happy more than anything else. Are you going to help me be happy?”
“That’s right. That’s what I’m here for. Lay back, Mary. Be happy.”
“Don’t think about the forest.”
“No, think about me instead.”
The breeze moves across my body, lifting the skirt of my dress. I gasp as a finger caresses the skin along my jaw, then works its way to my lips.
“Keep your eyes closed, Mary. Now, come to me.”
*
It’s one of those beautiful mornings where I wake a few seconds before my alarm and sit up feeling bright and refreshed. I have the sound of a rich voice in my mind. An echo. Come to me. I sigh. If only it was real.
Maybe one day it will be real. It’s a soothing thought.
“Morning, Mary.” Dad pokes his head above a newspaper. “What are you doing with your Saturday?”
“Meeting some friends in Ashforth,” I reply. “Any toast going spare?”
He tosses me a slice and I catch it above the breakfast table. “Cheers.”
He smiles at me and puts his newspaper down. I take a bite of the toast and regard him with some suspicion. I recognise the glint in his eye. He’s about to say something sentimental.
“You’re really coming on, Mary.”
“Um, thanks?”
“I’m proud of you.”
“Again, thanks, but I’m not sure why?”
“You know, after the business over the summer. We had some scary moments this year, but you seem to have come out the other side and you’re really improving. How’s school?”
I shrug. “It’s all right. I’m doing a lot of stuff I did before I left my old school so I guess I’m a bit ahead.”
“Good.” He nods. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”
“All right, Dad.” I roll my eyes. “Enough of the pep talk, you’re ruining my good mood.”
“Sorry, kiddo. Get into town and have a great day with your friends.” He winks. “You deserve it.”
I snatch an apple out of the fruit bowl and toss it into the air before catching it. “I do deserve it.”
I wave bye to Dad and step out of the house still throwing the apple up and down. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to be happy. That’s what I need to keep thinking about. I shouldn’t feel guilty about doing what I want. When I go to sleep and dream about that place with him, I shouldn’t feel guilty about it. If that’s what I want, I should just allow myself to have it.
As I’m walking down the drive, I glance at the trees in the nearby woods. Don’t go in there. I hear him as though he is standing right next to me. I shake my head and move on. It was just my imagination. But maybe I shouldn’t go into those woods for a while. Especially not in my dreams.
“Mares.”
I drop the apple. “Jesus, Lace. You scared the shit out of me.”
She’s a ball of crackling energy, popping out of thin air as only ghosts can. She chews on her bottom lip and then floats towards me.
“What’s up?” I ask, immediately aware that something is wrong.
“I can’t stop thinking about this ghost trying to hurt Willa,” she says.
I almost sigh. This is the last thing I need right now. “I know, but until the ghost shows itself there’s not much we can do.”
“I was thinking about being near her so that I can protect her.”
I can’t help but smile. “And so you can spend more time with her, right? I know your game, Holloway.”
“All right, you got me there.” She offers me a fleeting smile before frowning again. “Although I don’t know why I’m bothering. I’m dead and she’s alive.”
“Oh, Lace. It’s not as simple as that and you know it. Firstly, she can see ghosts, secondly, you can communicate together. You can even touch. You know… maybe you should talk to her about all this. I think you might be able to work something out.”
“I don’t even know if she likes me,” Lacey says. “Are you okay?” She looks me up and down before frowning.
“Yeah, why?”
“You look different, that’s all. Is it still this weird good mood that you’ve been in? What’s that all about? It’s like you’re a different person.”
“I’m not a different person, I’m just sleeping better, that’s all. There’s nothing weird going on.”
“Hmm.” Lacey narrows her eyes as though she’s suspicious of something. “Where are you going anyway?”
“To meet Jack in town.”
She grins. “First date?”
“No date,” I say. “It’s not like that.”
But Lacey isn’t buying any of it. Her grin widens and she waggles her eyebrows. “Come on, mate. You want him.”
I ignore her and continue walking down the path. “Like I said, it’s not like that. He just wants to talk.”
“Whatever, biatch. I’d better go see if Wi
lla is okay.”
“She’ll be fine,” I say with a sigh. “You’re pretty protective of her, aren’t you?”
“Why, you jealous?” Her eyes flash.
I swipe at her with the back of my hand and we both laugh when it goes straight through her. “Lace, in all seriousness—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Don’t get hurt,” I say. “And try not to make too much out of this ghost thing. We don’t know enough to be sure what’s going on. Maybe you really were attacked by foxes.” I shrug. “This world is pretty crazy even without all the paranormal things going on.”
“Good point. Smell ya later, Mares.”
She’s gone before I can wave. I shake my head at Lacey’s craziness.
*
I see Jack through the window of the café before I enter, and as I stand there, I think about what a lonely figure he appears to be. Then it hits me. Jack always looks uneasy wherever he is. If he’s alone, he looks lonely, with people he stands out, in a couple, he seems awkward. Maybe that’s why Jack rarely smiles, he’s always on the edge, never with the group. And that is what’s holding me back, I think. I’m on the outside, too. I’m weird and different. I’ve been bullied and pointed at and laughed at. Maybe I’m not ready to continue living on the outskirts of life, even if it is with another person. Maybe I want to be accepted and feel like I belong, like I feel in my dreams.
The café air is stifling as I step through the door. Jack’s eyes meet mine and he nods, still frowning. I walk up to the counter and order a hot chocolate. They tell me that they’ll bring it over so I make my way across to Jack’s table, all the way at the back and away from other people. His tall frame leans over a small cappuccino.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I say.
He taps the side of his mug and stares down at his coffee as though wondering how to continue the conversation. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“That’s okay.”
Silence.
“So you wanted to tell me more about the cult?” I prompt.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yeah. I guess I could do with talking about it. I… uh… I can’t really talk to Willa about it.”
“Because she doesn’t want to find her father?” I ask.
“Yes,” he says. “And no. There’s more to it than that. There’s a whole story, actually.” He stops, as though reluctant to say anymore.
The waitress comes over with my hot chocolate and I smile a “thank you”. She eyes Jack before she leaves, and I know what she’s thinking. I’ve seen dozens of girls look at him the same way, and I’ve seen him eye them right back. But since Willa told me that Jack never sleeps with any of the girls he goes out with, I’ve started seeing him in a different light. Today, Jack doesn’t even glance at her, he’s too focussed on the cappuccino in front of him.
“You need to listen to the whole story,” Jack says. And then he tells me everything.
Chapter Six
It’s right, she thinks. Everything is right. The candle-flames flicker in the dim light. The jasmine scented water is the perfect temperature. He will love this.
“I’ve made you proud, haven’t I?” she says. “I’ve made it beautiful.”
“Yes.”
A thrill surges through her body at the sound of his voice.
“You’ve made it beautiful, but I knew you would. I had faith in you,” he says.
She wrings her hands together and gasps in delight. “I’m so glad. I wanted you to love it. I really did—”
“Shh,” he says. “Quiet now.” He runs a soft finger down her cheek. She doesn’t quite feel it, but she senses his presence, and the electric crackle of his being. Her skin drinks in the sensation, and her body tightens with ecstasy.
“When do I get to see you?” she says. “When do I get to hold your hand and really see you? To feel your skin against mine?”
“Soon.” His voice is the softest whisper that lifts the fine hairs around her temples.
Her chest rises and falls in excitement. She can’t wait any longer. She drops the robe to the bathroom tiles and dips a toe into the water. It’s perfect. The motion of her body sends the candle flame into a jagged dance, casting rippling shadows up the walls. She sighs as she lets her body sink into the water. She leans back against the porcelain and stretches out her toes so that they press into the side of the bath beneath the taps. Her toenails are painted blue. Sky blue.
The ends of her dark hair dip into the water as she sinks lower and lower until her nose is at water level. A little of the water slops onto the tiled bathroom floor.
“Are you ready?” he asks. His voice is kind. She always knew he was kind. He created that world just for her, a world where she could escape from everything; the parents that yell at each other all night, who never understand her and never let her express herself. The teachers who turn a blind eye when other students call her names behind her back. The kids who never sit with her at lunchtime. She hates them all, and she won’t miss any of them. He is her future now. He is everything.
He made the world just for her to make her happy.
She smiles. “I’m ready. I’m ready to be with you forever.”
“You know what to do,” he says.
She nods. She lifts herself slightly out of the water so that she’s sitting in an upright position. This is important. She needs to make sure that she gets it completely right. There can be no mistakes now, nothing to jeopardise her future with him.
She pauses with her fingers hovering over what she needs to ensure her future. “Will it hurt?”
“No,” he says. “It will be beautiful.”
She believes him. She picks up the razor blade. She’s ready.
*
LACEY
Willa sits up and gasps. “No way!”
I glance at her from the other side of the room. “Really? You didn’t see this coming?”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t think she’d dump him.”
Okay, I’m man enough to admit it, I actually quite like the reality TV crap Willa likes. I’d rather die for a second time than admit it to anyone else. If I was getting waterboarded—when alive of course—and told that if I admitted watching Made in Chelsea I could go free, I’d probably tell them to keep going. But Willa has no shame. She doesn’t see things as cool or uncool. Everything just is.
“He did cheat on her. A lot,” I point out.
She shrugs. “I never understood the whole monogamy thing. I’ve never had that with any of my girlfriends.”
“Were they really girlfriends though?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to know. Or maybe I do. I don’t know. “Wasn’t it just a casual thing?”
She tilts her head to one side as though thinking. While she’s silent, I can’t help but allow my eyes to trail over her legs, which are tucked up beneath her body. She always sits like that, legs curled under, her back straight against the sofa back, leaning on the sofa arm.
“I guess so,” she says. She grins sheepishly. “But then I’m not sure I properly understand the whole relationship thing. Not yet anyway. At the commune no one really had a relationship. There were people who, you know, would have sex, but then most of them would also have sex with our leader so it was kind of complicated.”
“And I thought my mum was bad,” I say. “That sounds really weird.” Part of me wants to coax more out of her because she never goes into a lot of detail about her childhood, but the other part wants to leave it alone, because I have a feeling that something bad happened in Willa’s childhood that she’s leaving out. Do I really want to know what it is? Surely if I like her as much as I think I do, I want to know as much as I can about her. But on the other hand I don’t want to upset her or cause her pain.
“It was.” Her voice is distant. Faraway. She’s still, and her arms hug her body. “But it didn’t feel weird at the time. It was just what we did. It was all we knew.”
I can’t sit sti
ll any longer. I’m on my feet, aware of how my energy is crackling and electric again. I float around the room and Willa’s eyes travel with me. She continues to speak, “I was happy, you know. I can’t deny that. I was really happy for a long time. I loved the people there, especially my mother.”
“Do you miss them?” I ask.
“Of course,” she says. “I miss them loads.”
“Don’t you want to find them?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she says. “Part of me does. I’m not sure what Jack would think though.”
“Does it matter what he thinks?” I say. “I mean. You can make decisions without him too. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I know, but… this is how we’re linked, from this shared history. I’m not sure I could make that kind of decision without his blessing.” She shakes her head as though trying to move on. “It’s complicated.”
I get the hint and decide not to say anything more. Whatever it is that Willa has to sort through, she needs to do it alone.
“It’s cold in here,” Willa remarks. She rubs her arms and pulls her jumper tighter. “I must have forgotten to put the heating on.”
“Wait,” I say. The electric in my body is coursing faster than ever. I had thought it was from concern about Willa and her past, but now I know we’re not alone. “Don’t move. I think we have a ghost situation.”
Willa lets out a groan. “What are they going to do this time? Attack us with the TV remote?”
I can’t help but smile. “You laugh, but I’ve been whacked in the head with one of those bad boys and they hurt like a bastard.”
Willa shakes her head. “You really make me laugh, you know. You’re really funny. You should know that.”
My cheeks flush, or at least, it feels like my cheeks flush. As a ghost, when my body reacts to emotion, like embarrassment, it doesn’t really react in the same way. Mary tells me that I look more dead when I’m upset and less dead when I’m happy. “I’ve never been much good at anything else,” I admit.