Tamsyn Murray-Afterlife 01 My So-Called Afterlife

by Tamsyn Murray

  This earned me a level stare and I decided to shut up. Once we were safely tucked away in the lighting box, Jeremy wasted no time setting me straight. ‘No, I don’t live with my parents. They live in Norwich. And I am single, which is lucky for you because she’d have to be a very understanding woman to accept that I spend most of my spare time hanging around the toilets in Carnaby Street.’

  Urgh. I hadn’t given much thought to how that sounded. He was lucky he hadn’t been arrested. ‘OK, sorry I asked.’

  ‘So you should be. Come on. If you’re really lucky you’ll meet the psychotic theatre cat.’

  I half expected the theatre to be already haunted, but if it was, the resident ghost kept well out of my way as Jeremy scaled a towering portable ladder to check the conditions of the lights above the auditorium and stage. By the time he’d finished, other employees were starting to arrive, forcing us back to the lighting box where at least Jeremy could answer my questions.

  I was thrilled when he agreed that I could stay for the show.

  ‘Thanks! I promise I’ll be quiet.’

  His expression suggested he found that hard to believe. I was on my best behaviour, though, and only distracted him once in the show. He made a big deal out of it. Personally, I don’t think anyone in the audience would have noticed the late spotlight during the leading lady’s solo. It dawned on me, as he flipped levers and pushed buttons on the complicated lighting desk, that he was quite good at his job. By the end of the show, I was almost eyeing him with respect. I didn’t mention it, naturally. He might start thinking I liked him or something.

  ‘If you give me a minute to finish up, I’ll walk you home.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Right, cos something bad might happen to me otherwise.’

  Jeremy’s gaze was steady. ‘All the same, I’d be happier seeing you safely back to your cupboard.’

  I was trying to come up with a smart comment when a tap at the door interrupted my thoughts. Jeremy threw me a warning glance.

  ‘Come in.’

  A woman with a long thin nose and vibrant purple hair poked her head round the door. ‘Hi, Jeremy. Tonight’s the night we start filming. We’re setting up infra-red cameras in the auditorium to catch any supernatural activity. Any chance you could help?’ She paused, nose ring twitching suspiciously as she peered around the tiny room. ‘I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone.’

  ‘Myself. I often do.’ He threw her an uneasy grimace. ‘It’s the only way I get the answer I want. Do you need me right now?’

  The woman’s eyes slid sideways, as though she didn’t believe him. ‘Yes please. By the way, the big cheese was looking for you.’

  ‘The director? Did he say why?’

  She raised a pierced eyebrow and smiled thinly. ‘No, but I expect it’s got something to do with Serena singing half her big solo in the dark.’

  Jeremy climbed gloomily to his feet. ‘I’d better not keep him waiting then, or there’ll be one more ghost for you to catch on camera. Thanks for the heads up, Elvira.’

  I snorted with laughter. Elvira? Talk about a lame attempt at sounding cool. She was at least forty years old. Minus the purple hair and multiple piercings, she’d look more like an Eileen. I stuck my head out of the door and watched them make their way along the corridor.

  ‘Don’t be long,’ I called at Jeremy’s retreating back. ‘And watch out for the human pincushion. She looks prickly.’

  Elvira stiffened and turned her head slightly, as though she’d heard something. Too late, I remembered Jeremy had mentioned there was a psychic on the TV production team. I wouldn’t mind betting he’d been talking about Elvira. Thoughtfully, I pulled my head back into the lighting box. She couldn’t see me, but it was possible she could hear me, and I had an uneasy feeling about her.The last thing I wanted was to be the star of her cheesy TV show. I’d have to remember to keep it zipped if I ever bumped into her again.

  That turned out to be sooner than I expected. I’d sat in Jeremy’s seat and was concentrating on moving one of the sliders when the door swung open and Elvira came in. In her arms was a sleek, black cat.

  Now don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against cats. My nan had one and I got along with it just fine. The one Elvira was carrying wasn’t anything like Mr Cuddles, though, and judging from the way it was hissing at me, with its ears flat against its head, I had a sneaking suspicion it could see me. That wasn’t a problem in itself – unless Elvira was an extremely unlikely-looking Dr Dolittle, the cat wasn’t going to be talking – but I couldn’t shake the feeling she’d expected this reaction. That could only mean she suspected I was there.

  ‘What is it, Lucy?’ she crooned, lips resting against the cat’s furry ears.

  I froze. Now that was seriously spooky. How in hell’s teeth did she know my name?

  ‘Is there a disgusting ghost in here?’ She shuddered, a look of revulsion on her face. ‘We hate ghosts, don’t we, Lucifer?’

  The breath whooshed out of me. Who in their right mind names their cat after the devil and brings it to work? Wait . . . hadn’t Jeremy said something about a theatre cat? I relaxed slightly. OK, so she wasn’t some all-knowing witch after all, but she was still freaking me out. I had to get rid of her. Desperately, I thought back to those long Sunday afternoons at Nan’s. My cousins took great delight in jumping out at Mr Cuddles when he least expected it, causing the cat to leap upwards and claw at anything within reach. I narrowed my eyes in thought. Perched in Elvira’s arms, Lucifer did not look like a happy feline. His barely contained temper gave me an idea.

  I levelled my most intimidating stare deep into the cat’s amber eyes. ‘Boo!’

  The air was filled with a furious yowling as Lucifer morphed into a spitting, scratching furball. Elvira screamed, a shrill screech of agony, and dropped him. He wasted no time legging it and shot from the room. Whimpering, and nursing some vicious-looking scratches to her neck and face, Elvira threw an evil glare around the room.

  ‘I can sense you’re here,’ she hissed. ‘It’s only a matter of time until we catch you, one way or another.’

  With one final scowl she was gone, leaving me shaking like I’d just had a run-in with the biggest bully in the playground. What exactly did she mean – catch me? On film, or did she mean something else? My mind flicked back to an old re-run of Ghostbusters I’d seen where the ghosts had been snared with lasers or something – I definitely didn’t fancy being trapped for eternity or whatever else Cruella de Vil had in mind. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. The whole experience had been too close for comfort. The moment Jeremy came back, I was so out of there.

  Chapter 7

  The next time I dragged Jeremy to the Dearly D, three days later, Hep tried not to be impressed when I sent two empty fries packets and a Coke can sailing into the bin. ‘It took me ages to move even a crisp packet and I had a head-start in the anger stakes. How did you learn so quickly?’

  I didn’t tell her I’d spent a whole morning stabbing at a dubious ball of tissue I’d discovered on the floor in one of the cubicles. There were some things no one needed to know, and I didn’t want to come across as Little Miss Competitive. ‘Practice, I suppose. My social life isn’t exactly blistering, y’know.’

  It was true. Since my encounter with Elvira and the satanic moggy, both Jeremy and I thought it was too dangerous for me to spend any more time at the theatre. Whatever her plans were, I couldn’t risk running into her again. Bang went my idea of becoming some kind of angelic lighting technician. It wasn’t as though I had a bulging contact list to ring round when I got bored.

  Hep made a passable stab at a smile. ‘Well, this should cheer you up. Ryan is throwing a party this weekend, and you’re invited.’

  She was right. My mood instantly lifted. ‘How does he know who I am? Did Kimberly tell him?’

  Hep shook her head. ‘I think it’s safe to say that Kimberly hasn’t described you in flattering terms. You have me to thank for your invitatio
n. I asked Ryan whether it was OK if you tagged along. He said yes.’

  I was genuinely touched. ‘Thanks, Hep. I’d love to go with you.’

  ‘Hadn’t you better ask your dad?’ She jerked her head towards the church, where Jeremy was enduring another service on my behalf. He found the people there interesting, he said, although often sad. Personally, I couldn’t bear the desperation in the air.

  ‘Nah. He’ll be cool with it. You’ll see.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucy, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. I’d mentioned the party once we were safely back home, expecting him to nod approvingly. Instead, Jeremy had gone off the deep end. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred pounds, go directly to ridiculously over-protective mode. There weren’t many upsides to being dead, but surely being free from stupid adult rules had to be one of them. So why was I being told what to do by someone I’d known less than two months? It didn’t seem fair.

  ‘I’ve been invited to a party and I want to go. Why is that so difficult to understand?’

  Jeremy shrugged. ‘It’s not. But you don’t know these people very well. What if something goes wrong?’

  I stared, exasperated. ‘What could possibly happen?’

  ‘There are more ways to hurt someone than just physically.’ He shook his head doubtfully. ‘I think I should come too.’

  I groaned. Things were getting worse. ‘You cannot do this to me. Even my own parents were never this cruel.’

  ‘We know there are other people who can sense your presence, Lucy.’ He threw me a pleading look. ‘I’m only looking out for you.’

  He meant well, but it didn’t make me feel any better. My first party in the afterlife, and I was being babysat by a twenty-seven-year-old who dressed like someone twice his age. Did he have any idea how galactically uncool he was going to make me look?

  It took five minutes of intense, moody silence to make him crack. ‘If it helps, I won’t come to the actual party. I’ll find a pub nearby and you can come and find me when you’re ready to go home.’

  Remembering how much he’d done for me, I decided to call a truce. ‘Fine. Don’t think I’ll give in and invite you to the party. It wouldn’t be much fun for you anyway – I’d be the only one you could see.’

  He grinned, evidently pleased that he’d got his way. ‘Don’t worry. I won’t cramp your style.’

  I raised a stern eyebrow. Or at least I tried to. It wasn’t a skill I’d managed to master while alive, and my lack of physical form wasn’t making it any easier. ‘You’d better not, or it’ll be non-stop pop for you. Choose wisely.’

  By the time Saturday night came round, I was in a state of extreme anticipation. Seriously, I hadn’t been that excited since I’d spotted a member of a chart-topping boy band in our local Sainsbury’s when I was eleven, and if that doesn’t paint you a picture of my state of mind, nothing will. When I get like that, my mouth tends to go into overdrive, and this was no exception. Jeremy put up with my motor-mouth tendencies with a wry smile. It had become a little strained by the time the bus deposited us at the side of the North Circular Road in Edmonton.

  ‘OK, you can go now.’ I turned expectantly to Jeremy and wiggled my fingers in a cute little wave. ‘Have fun.’

  He didn’t move. ‘You haven’t given me the address yet. How can I pick you up if I don’t know where you are?’

  I was beginning to wonder if there was some kind of joke going on. Jeremy could not possibly be expecting to pick me up. Any moment, a ghostly TV presenter with an inane grin was going to step through a wall and tell me I’d been set up.

  ‘That is a very good question.’ I folded my arms and adopted my most sincere expression. ‘And the answer is that you’re not. Tell me where you’re going and I’ll come and find you when I’m ready to head home.’

  ‘All right.’

  It was too easy. I blinked suspiciously. ‘You’re OK with that?’

  He smiled. ‘Of course. I’ll just follow you to make sure you get there safely.’

  I sighed, seeing where he was going. There was no way I wanted him trailing along behind me. ‘The party is in a deserted factory behind that industrial estate over there.’ I waved an arm towards the dark buildings silhouetted in the fading light. ‘Hep says there’s a pub beside those houses on the other side of the dual carriageway.’

  ‘The last bus is just before midnight.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Why don’t we meet here at quarter to twelve?’

  Nodding, I turned to go.

  ‘Lucy?’

  For the love of Marmite, what else did he have to say? Arranging my face into a patient expression, I turned around enquiringly.

  ‘Stay off the spirits.’ Chuckling at his own wit, he walked towards the passageway under the road.

  ‘And you wonder why I don’t want you to come with me.’ Shaking my head in pity, I set off in the opposite direction.

  Hep met me by the overgrown trail leading to the factory. ‘You ditched your minder all right, then?’

  ‘Yeah, wasn’t sure I’d find this place though. What made Ryan have the party here?’ I asked, picking my way through a sea of discarded beer cans, crisp packets and other rubbish. It was a long way from classy, but I don’t suppose there are many places where the dead can let their hair down undisturbed.

  Shrugging, Hep said, ‘I think it’s because he died near here. Did you see all the flowers by the roadside back there?’

  I nodded. There had been a lot, and they’d looked fresh. I’d never paid much attention to things like that when I was alive. Now they told me that there was probably another member of my peculiar world nearby.

  ‘His mum brings them every week,’ she went on. ‘It must have been really hard, losing her son and her husband at the same time.’

  Death wasn’t easy for anyone, I thought, but at least my parents had had each other, and my brother and sister. My mum had spent the weeks after my murder in my toilet, daring anyone to deny her access to fuss over flowers and talk to the empty air for hours. I swung from screaming anger to helpless sorrow as I struggled with the agony of not being able to reach her. More than anything, I battled for a way to tell her I was still there, listening to her broken-toned stories about the memorial assembly at school and the picture my bewildered little sister had drawn of me in heaven with the angels. The frustration was almost too much. Gradually, her visits lessened and in a way that helped me. It hurt too, until the last time she came with my dad and told me through streaming tears that they couldn’t bear to use the streets where I had walked, or avoid my bedroom door any longer. The house where I’d once used my red felt tips to draw a giant dragon on the new wallpaper was sold. Gathering what was left of our tattered family close, they were moving away. I let them go, hollow with misery, knowing they were doing the right thing but unwilling to let go of the last shred of my life. Those weeks were the darkest I’d ever known.

  ‘Hey, are you all right?’ Hep’s black-ringed eyes were concerned.

  Never one to wallow in self-pity, I forced my memories to one side. ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ Looking up at the broken windows of the factory, I put on my most sociable face. ‘In the words of the song, let’s get this party started.’

  Chapter 8

  Walking into that building was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Don’t get me wrong, I’d been to plenty of parties in my fifteen years, but never without the comfort of knowing my mates had my back. Hep seemed OK, for an Emo. I had no idea if I could depend on her in a cuss fight.

  I needn’t have worried. She stuck to me like glue, pointing out the ghosts she knew and making me laugh with her sly comments about the ones she didn’t especially like. Given her emotional state, that meant most of the party-goers.

  The party itself looked amazing. Lanterns hung from hooks in the walls and tea lights were dotted on every available surface. Although it had been abandoned a long time ago, the fabric of the factory was sti
ll sound and most of the roof was intact. Here and there, a patch of orangey-blue city sky shone through, adding to the magical atmosphere. Fleetingly, I wondered how the candles had got there, but there were plenty of other things demanding my attention, not least of which was the music.

  I flicked a head towards the centre of the room, where a band was thumping out crowd-pleasing tunes ranging from The Beatles to the latest floor-fillers. ‘They’re good. How come they’ve got their guitars?’

  ‘Helicopter crash on their way back from Glastonbury a few years ago. We’re lucky they weren’t double-booked tonight.’

  It hadn’t crossed my mind that musicians would be in hot demand in the afterlife. ‘Does Ryan know them?’

  She nodded. ‘He knows everyone.’

  I was beginning to feel mighty curious about the wonderful Ryan. Reading my mind, Hep flashed me a faint smile. ‘Come on, I’ll introduce you to him.’

  As I followed her through the crowd, I began to feel a worm of uneasiness creeping through me. He had a lot to live up to, this Ryan. What if he wasn’t like I pictured him? What if he picked his nose or secretly liked Star Trek or talked like an utter chav? I bit my lip anxiously. What if he was the jock to Kimberly’s cheerleader?

  All of these worries melted away the moment I saw him. In the movie of my existence (which I’m imaginatively calling The Life and Death of Lucy Shaw), the crowds will part as I approach and he’ll turn and be mesmerised by my total gorgeousness. Everyone will recognise that something wonderful has happened and will go and find something else to do, leaving us alone. He’ll drop to one knee, gazing up at me in adoration. I’ll say something sparkling, managing to be a cross between a glamorous Oscar-winning actress and a seeringly witty comedienne at the same time. Just so we’re clear, it’ll be the actress’s looks and the comedienne’s brains. Funny girls are all very well, but we all know who gets the A-list husbands.

  Anyway, the reality didn’t go quite so smoothly. For a start, Queen Kimberly was holding court around him, making it almost impossible to get close. Luckily, I had Hep with me, who simply elbowed her way in. I suppose you could say the crowd parted, in a shuffling kind of way. It would have been better if it hadn’t closed immediately after her, leaving me stranded amongst hostiles.