‘I did not consciously plan to arrive. A moment ago, I sensed some form of panic and now I find myself beside you. It appears, dear Morgan, I am at your beck and call.’
Morgan grabbed a piece of paper and scrawled,
Please go home.
‘You appear troubled, is there anything I can help you with?’
‘Go away,’ she said out the side of her mouth.
Olivia kept her eyes forward and her voice low. ‘Have I not congratulated you enough?’
Morgan rolled her eyes in frustration. ‘George is here, I’m trying to get him to go back home.’
Olivia scribbled a note,
Why are you being so horrible to me?
Morgan swallowed past the boulder in her throat. If her emotions kept going up and down like this she’d be sick. ‘I’m sorry about the essay. Should’ve put your name on it too.’
Olivia said under her breath, ‘Don’t be stupid. I haven’t even read it.’
‘It was the teacher’s idea, not mine. I’d never even heard of the Ford Prize until she brought it up.’
‘That’s the problem with you. You don’t even have to try and you fall arse backwards into jam.’
Emotionally reeling, Morgan did her best to ignore the ghost beside her while simultaneously try to calm her angry - and very real - friend.
‘Please don’t be jealous.’
‘Well I am, OK? So stop going on and on about your damn prize and –’ Olivia buried her head.
‘What prize?’ George said.
Oh. Emm. Gee. Did she stay in the frying pan or leap into the fire?
Olivia passed another note.
Can u please sit somewhere else? You’re sucking my energy.
George said, ‘You couldn’t possibly be talking about the piece you wrote about my family.’
But he’d told her he was all right with it. Sort of. Morgan pressed her palms into her eyes to keep the heat back. ‘I’m sorry.’ She said, hoping it would be good enough to answer both Olivia and George.
Mrs Edgars cleared her throat. ‘Morgan and Olivia, I know you’re excited, but stop passing notes.’
‘Sorry,’ they answered together. Olivia gave her a sideways glance.
‘How many people is it now?’ George asked. ‘How long until the entire world delights in examining the entrails of our disgrace?’
If he just went home, she could explain it all later. In private. She grabbed another piece of paper and scrawled,
‘Promise you George, it won’t go further.’
Because, really, how could it? As if she’d win a national prize with her very first history essay. The only silver lining to this hideous situation was that history class came before lunch, not after. If there had been anything in her stomach, it would be flying out by now.
‘She’ll get over it,’ Dave said when Morgan got home and explained her awful life to him.
‘It’s not Olivia I’m worried about,’ she said. ‘It’s George. He’s angry with me now.’
‘Let’s stick with practicalities.’ He put a fresh batch of raspberry and white chocolate muffins on the bench. ‘Why did you enter the prize? You could have said ‘no’?’
Morgan shook her head, wishing she’d knocked Mrs Edgars back. ‘Hindsight can be a bitch.’
‘Go easy on Olivia, won’t you? Put yourself in her shoes for a change.’
‘Why can’t she do the same for me then? I didn’t do anything to her. She’s the one being horrible to me.’
‘I’m not going to sugar coat this,’ Dave said. ‘You have a very good life and you know it. Now you’re up for a prize in a subject that Olivia has worked hard on for years but never had any extra reward. Talk about rubbing salt into the wound.
‘Jealousy makes people do crazy things sometimes. Let me ask you something. In the past, oh, let’s say five years, how many meals has your mother cooked?’
‘Um . . .’ Morgan shrugged. ‘A few, maybe. Why?’
‘And me? How many times have I slaved over a hot stove?’
‘But that’s your job.’
‘I could just as easily open a can or bung something in the microwave. You’d still get fed. The point being, I love cooking. I love food. I love creating. But it’s not my name on the cooking show, is it?’ Dave reached into the fridge and grabbed the necessaries for Morgan’s dinner.
‘Oh. My. God. You’re jealous? Of Mum?’
‘You bet I am.’
‘Does Mum know how you feel?’
‘Yes, she does. Because I told her. Because I can’t help being jealous. And now she knows and . . . well, she says she understands. And hey, at least I’m on the show . . . a bit.’ He set about grilling the salmon. ‘She’s a smart woman. She knows I want the show to be a success just as much as she does. So, really, in the end we both want the same thing.’
‘But how do I share shortlisting in a prize with Olivia if she’s not even talking to me?’ Cold dread shuddered through her body. ‘What am I going to do if I win the flipping thing?’
‘Duck and cover?’ He grinned as he sliced an avocado. ‘I just had a thought. You’re helping her with chemistry homework, yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ She took a piece of flatbread and slapped avocado on top.
‘What if Olivia won a chemistry prize?’
‘Is there one?’
‘If you care about your friendship, you’ll Google for her.’
After dinner, Morgan sat up in bed searching for high school prizes in chemistry.
‘Burning the midnight oil?’
‘Whoa, George, you gave me a fright.’ She turned to find him sitting on the chaise longue, examining the back of his hand in a nonchalant way.
‘Glad to hear it. After all, I am a ghost.’
She nibbled at the side of her lip. ‘I’m sorry about today. I can’t really talk to you in a crowded classroom. I also didn’t think the essay would go any further.’ Best to get the apology in quickly so they had a chance of moving on.
George’s face filled with disappointment. ‘I’m not sure how I could have made myself any clearer. I begged you Morgan, begged you not to expose my family’s private pain. I cannot believe you have ignored my deepest wishes.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to argue that he’d changed his mind a few days ago, but he must have forgotten. ‘You knew I was writing it for my teacher, somebody else was always going to see it. And I did so much research for you. You wouldn’t have known anything at all about your past or how you died if I hadn’t helped.’
‘Yes, yes, of course I remember that. But I also pleaded with you to not make it public. You betrayed me.’
‘That’s not what happened. We’ve been over this Geor –’ Morgan sucked in a breath. ‘You’ve got a brain like a sieve and we’re going to get stuck going over and over this. But you’ve got to believe me, I did not mean to betray you. I’m just as surprised as you that it’s gone so far.’
‘Truly? Now you’re claiming my family isn’t interesting enough for national attention?’
She could have sworn she heard a crack in the air from emotional whiplash. ‘Of course, they are. And now you’re cranky and Olivia’s snubbing me. I can’t win!’
Taut silence stretched between them.
He made what looked to be a sigh – although no breath came out. ‘It seems . . . in order to discover more about my family, I must ask for your further help. And yet at each stage your assistance only serves to make my shame more public. If I could do it myself, I would. Alas, the afterlife has no equivalent search functions to your device over there.’ He waved his hand in the direction of her laptop. ‘Endless eons of circular conversations. You’d be amazed how many people truly lose their minds after they expire.’
Morgan held back a laugh. ‘It might be nice to lose your mind. Forget everything that ever made you miserable.’
‘Forget about anything that brought you joy,’ he added.
He had a point. ‘What’s it . . . like . . . where y
ou go? You know, when you’re not ‘here’?’
‘Dull, dull, dull. It cannot be heaven. If where I have been is the celestial resting place, we have all been grossly mislead. Perhaps it is some kind of middle ground before people choose a path, whether up or down, so to speak. There can be no doubt my father is forever lost to us. Therefore I must hope and pray my mother and sisters have found their way into the Lord’s Kingdom.’
‘You’re saying your father is in . . . hell?’
‘It’s common knowledge a person who takes a life, even his own, is forever cast into damnation.’
Whenever she’d read about horrible crimes she’d hoped the perpetrator rotted in hell, but that was just a saying. But people who took their own lives? Weren’t they in enough pain already? Why should they be subjected to an eternity of torture afterwards? ‘If your mother is in heaven with your sisters, wouldn’t she be miserable? She must miss your dad so much. You can’t be miserable in heaven, you’re supposed to be happy all the time. Like, it’s always Christmas morning, right about the time when you see your presents, but you haven’t opened them yet so you’re not disappointed.’
George laughed as he strolled to the window and gazed out. ‘Truly, Morgan, you could give theologians a run for their money.’
‘I’m just trying to work it out.’
‘Aren’t we all?’ George shook his head and walked over to her desk. ‘If we may return to serious matters. Please help me, Morgan. My very soul depends on it.’
12
Mending Fences
To Morgan’s relief, the next day at school Kaz and Emma brought Olivia with them to the library’s study room.
Heart in her mouth, Morgan couldn’t pretend things were anything but tense. ‘Are we still friends?’
The girl crossed her arms over her chest and looked peeved. ‘You don’t get it do you? You’ve got everything. You’re pretty, you’re smart and you’re rich, and then you take my favourite subject off me.’
‘That’s not my fault!’
‘It’s true but.’
Ouch. ‘You think I’ve got everything? I’m miserable because everyone is either crabby with me or laughing at me. Oh, and guess what? The council is demanding the house be demolished. So no, I really don’t have everything.’
‘What?’ Olivia’s eyes widened as she took her seat. ‘They want to pull your house down?’
Morgan shrugged, ‘It’s too tall or something.’
‘Fake news.’ Kaz said. ‘They’ll just make your dad pay a fine. He can afford it.’
Morgan hoped Kaz was right.
Music started playing. It was the theme to The Addams Family, but the lyrics were saying, ‘The Plastic Family.’
‘Kaz!’ Morgan’s hand curled into a fist.
‘Sorry!’ Kaz grinned.
She didn’t look the least bit sorry. ‘Do you have to snap your fingers to the music?’
‘But it’s funny as.’
‘Not for me it isn’t.’
Emma cleared her throat. ‘We are here to study.’ She even had her books open.
Kaz put her ear-buds in to silence the music, but kept bopping her head to the beat.
Emma touched Morgan’s arm, then reached for Olivia’s. ‘Please, you two, be friends again. It feels like the band’s breaking up.’
A wry smile creased Olivia’s lips.
Morgan sighed. ‘I am really sorry. For everything. Look, I made a list of chemistry prizes that you can enter. I’ll help you any way I can.’
Kaz tugged her earbuds out and said, ‘What’s this?’
Ignoring her, Morgan ploughed on. ‘You know how you hate dogs. You say they can smell fear on you? You could prove it? Collect hair samples from people, or I don’t know, rub a cloth on their sweaty palms or something, and get some dogs to sniff the samples. Write down the dog’s behaviour you’ll have proof.’
Olivia’s hand crept closer to the papers. ‘That’s your idea, not mine. Anyway, dogs don’t like me, how do I know they’re not sniffing me instead of the samples?’
‘Damn.’ Morgan said. ‘Then we’ll think of something.’
‘What’s the point? It’ll still be your idea.’
Palms out, trying to look helpful, Morgan said, ‘So let’s brainstorm and come up with your idea then.’
‘My idea is that you withdraw from the Ford Prize!’ Olivia covered her mouth the moment the words were out.
A collective gasp bounced around the walls.
Emma butted in. ‘You don’t really mean that.’
Trembling, Olivia grabbed the edge of the desk. ‘I’m ashamed to admit it, but yeah, I do want Morgan to lose. The green-eyed-monster is out of the bag.’
‘At least you’re honest,’ Emma said.
Olivia shrugged.
Morgan felt a glimmer of hope. ‘You know I would not have gotten so far if you weren’t such a great tutor.’
Olivia picked up one of the papers. ‘Don’t even bother.’
Morgan kept bothering. ‘You saved me from failing.’
Another sigh from Olivia and she gave the papers back to Morgan. ‘These chemistry competitions are bonkers. I wouldn’t stand a chance.’
Which meant she’d at least glanced at them and considered entering, surely? ‘You have just as much chance as anyone else. It doesn’t have to be a complicated hypothesis. You could test a range of bottled water to find out if there’s any difference between what’s in them and what’s in the tap.’
‘You’d do the Parkers out of a job,’ Kaz chimed in. ‘You could prove once and for all that bottled water is a waste of money.’
Olivia laughed. ‘You’re evil Kaz.’
‘Just saying what people are thinking.’ Kaz put her earbuds back in.
‘Steady on,’ Morgan said, but all the same . . . maybe it would serve her right if Olivia ran experiments on bottled water.
The twinkle was back in Olivia’s eyes as she and Kaz laughed.
‘I’m glad you’re talking again,’ Emma said with a knowing look.
Yes, they were talking. With a bit of luck, they might be proper friends again. Not right away, but soon. ‘Olivia, if you really want me to, I can talk to Mrs Edgars and ask her to take my essay out of the prize.’
Olivia’s jaw dropped open. It took a few breaths for her to close it again. ‘You’d do that for me?’
Gulp. ‘Um . . . well, if you really wanted me to, I would.’ Please say you don’t want me to.
One beat. Two.
Olivia relented. ‘It’s OK. It wouldn’t be fair to make you do that. I’d feel too guilty. Especially if it’s really good. . . Is it really good?’
‘I have no idea.’ Morgan grabbed her iPad and emailed the file to her. A few seconds later she heard a soft ping and Olivia read from her own device. A soft frown of concentration formed on Olivia’s face.
Was that a good or bad thing? ‘You don’t have to read all of –’
‘– Shush, this is good.’
Kaz scooched across and read over Olivia’s shoulder.
‘Can I read it?’ Emma asked.
‘Sure, why not?’ Morgan sent her a copy as well.
Barely able to breathe, Morgan rode the rollercoaster of Olivia’s expressions. Each furrowed brow sank her hopes. Every hint of a smile sent her spirits soaring. After what felt like an eternity, Olivia sniffed and looked up.
‘Morgan, it’s beautiful. George sounds amazing. I’m half in love with him already.’
Relief enveloped Morgan like a warm hug. ‘You and me both.’
‘You can’t take him out of the competition,’ Olivia said, ‘You’ve brought him to life.’
He’s one of a kind, that’s for sure.
‘Hang on.’ Emma looked up. ‘Isn’t George the name of your ghost?’
Three pairs of eyes found Morgan’s.
‘Uh yeah.’
‘This is about George? Your George?’ Kaz looked between the essay and Morgan. ‘He’s real? I thought you were making
him up!’
Morgan shook her head. ‘Olivia helped me with history, but . . . George did too.’
Olivia shook her head. ‘George is . . . real?’
‘As real as it gets,’ Morgan said with a sigh. ‘Thing is, he’s been upset with me too because of the essay. He doesn’t want it going public. Well, he did for a while but he’s changed his mind. Or he forgot. He says I’m airing his dirty linen. Between George’s lousy memory and us fighting, I’m half wondering why I bothered in the first place.’
‘George is real?’ Olivia asked again.
Morgan nodded.
‘Wow!’ A huge smile spread over Olivia’s face. ‘You’re more messed up that I thought!’
Morgan shrugged. ‘Does that mean we’re friends again?’
‘Oh that, yeah, old news. Look, I’m stuck on these questions –’ she slapped her science textbook down and opened it to her current problem.
‘But we did this last week?’ Morgan looked up to see Olivia wincing. ‘Have you done any chem since then?’
Olivia shook her head and had the decency to look embarrassed about it. ‘I didn’t want to talk to you, and chemistry reminded me of you.’
Morgan gave her friend a hug. ‘How is it you can name every contestant on Fame-Factor and not remember any of this?’
‘Because Fame-Factor is interesting and this is . . .’ She wafted her hand over the page. ‘. . . white noise.’
‘Then make it interesting,’ Kaz interrupted. ‘Carbon can be . . . the radio guy, Freddie Bonaventure. Good in small doses but too much is suffocating.’
Emma snorted.
The tension in the room dissolved, replaced with something closer to hope. Morgan searched for chemistry tutorials and videos, and found a black and white video by Tom Lehrer. His song about the known elements was catchy in an old-timey annoying way. Perfect for Olivia.
‘That’s a huge list,’ Olivia said.
‘And they keep making more,’ Kaz said.
‘More?’ Olivia’s mouth fell open.
Morgan stared daggers. ‘Kaz stop winding her up. But yes, there are more elements. They’re so small and new we don’t need to worry about them at this stage. We’re doing what’s on the standard periodic table. Just the main gases, solids, liquids, that sort of thing. Nothing too scary.’
The Girl and the Ghost Page 12