The Dead Speak Ill Of The Living (The Dead Speak Paranormal Mysteries Book 1)

by Robert Wilde

  The group worked their way through the countryside until they came to an old bridge which crossed a river. They stopped on it to take a drink of the water they’d brought with them, and not for the first time wished this girl had gone missing where they could have brought the car easily and not into rural England. Then some snack bars were produced, chocolate being left at home because of the heat, and as they stood chatting, the earpiece silent, they heard a cough.

  All four looked around, but there wasn’t anyone in front or behind them on the road, or visible in fields to either side.

  “Somebody coughed” Dee mouthed, and everyone nodded their heads.

  “Billy Goats Gruff,” mouthed Pohl.

  “What?” they all said.

  “Billy Goats Gruff,” Pohl mouthed again.

  “What the fuck are you saying?” Dee asked.

  The Professor pointed down, and the group used an overgrown path to wind down under the bridge. There was a river running along, and there a young blonde girl was sat, now looking at them afraid.

  It took twenty minutes to convince the girl to stand and come back with them, to convince her she didn’t have to run away, twenty minutes before the group were satisfied they’d succeeded and found a living girl and not a shade doomed to stay under the bridge. Then they’d made a call, and a car came along to collect them.

  Their return as all conquering heroes was delayed by giving statements to the police, and then Dee led them to the bar for a full evening’s drinking. Joe, however, said he had a headache and would have a sleep in one of the pub’s rooms. But he didn’t sleep, he sneaked out, took his car, and drove to the asylum. Soon he was inside, armed with just the machine and a torch. He didn’t bother with the earpiece.

  “You came back!”

  “Yes,” and Joe smiled at her excitement, “you can rely on me.”

  “Excellent, excellent!”

  “Why did you just want me?” he asked.

  “I saw something in you. That you’d understand.”

  “In my soul?”

  “No, your face.”

  “Oh, I see, thanks. Are you alone here?”

  “Yes,” now she sounded sad again. “Just me, no one living or dead ever comes.”

  “No one else died here?”

  “They did, but all went. Just me.”

  “Do you mind if I ask how you died?”

  “I was sick. They should have put me in a room.”

  “What?”

  “My mind failed. Where there was once joy, there was darkness. Where there was once hope, only despair. I lost my energy, lost my ability to think straight…“

  “I know how you feel,” Joe said. “I get that a lot these days.”

  “…So I took a piece of rope and hanged myself.”

  “You… killed yourself?”

  “Yes. Surprisingly easy.”

  “And do you, still…”

  “Not really. Being dead is different, energy is different. Now I just get so lonely. So very lonely. And I missed out on courting and families.”

  “I also know how that feels.”

  “Tell me about you Joe? Tell me.”

  “Not much to tell. I trained as a scientist, qualified, passed all the interviews to get onto a project, became a key member, helped make a ground breaking scientific discovery, now help do good, and I feel so fucking alon...” He stopped short. He hadn’t meant to say that. Had meant to say literally anything else but reveal those emotions to this stranger. But he began to feel he could say anything to Polly.

  “You don’t have a girlfriend?”

  “No.”

  “Not the lady who was with you?”

  “Dee? I had a crush on her for ages, but she’s not interested. Told me so, and that’s Dee for you, she’d tell you. So no hope there.”

  “Still looking then.”

  “You could say.”

  “And you also get this… this darkness?”

  “Yes. It comes over me and I retreat, like a cloud spreading into my mind, and it’s all I can do in public not to curl into a ball.”

  “But you do in private?”

  “Yes.”

  “Family?”

  “My parents are alive, but they moved to the South of France like a cliché. My sister is doing well, but... five years younger with a husband and two kids.”

  “But you made a groundbreaking discovery!”

  The attempt did not cheer Joe up. “I’d give it all up to find someone like me. Who, well, likes me.”

  “I understand. Can you stay here long?”

  “I should probably only stay an hour.”

  “How long have we had?”

  “Really not long at all.”

  “Good. Then what would you like to talk about?”

  Joe wasn’t sure what was a good topic between a man and a dead young woman, but he thought his favourite subject might help. “You’ve never heard of Doctor Who then?”

  “Doctor…yes, the old man who travels through space? Is that still going?”

  “Oh yes.”

  “He must be long dead.”

  “They change the actor, and the character ‘regenerates’.”

  “I can tell from your voice you love this.”

  “It is one of the few things I get pleasure from these days. Although there’s a lot of episodes I can’t watch now.”

  “Why?”

  “They remind me of Dee.”

  “Ah, Her.” She didn’t need to say any more to convey her displeasure. “I suppose she has a boyfriend?”

  “A policeman.”

  “Women love a man in uniform.”

  “Not you?”

  “The orderlies wore uniform. I don’t need any more of that in my life.” A pause as she thought, then decided. “Joe, I want you to promise me, that however our talk goes in the next fifty minutes that you’ll come back. I don’t want to make a friend for one night, I want to see you again.”

  “And I want to see you again. Well hear you, well you know what I mean.”

  “Good, good, then you promise?”

  “Polly, you really won’t be able to keep me away.”

  “Why is there a horse dancing?” Nazir asked.

  “It’s dressage,” Dee replied.

  “Yes, but who thought making a horse dance was a good idea. It’s a beast from the wild, it needs to be running with a herd, not side stepping to classical music.”

  “Do I judge your choice of sport?”

  “You’re only watching this because there’s still a small part of you that’s girly and likes ponies.”

  “No, I’m watching it because it’s hardly ever on television and I find it visually fascinating.”

  “Weird pony girl.”

  “Are you two fighting again?” Pohl called out from the kitchen.

  “Mum’s angry with us.” Nazir grinned.

  “I suppose you’d feel happier if I turned the horses off.”

  “There must be something better on.”

  “Well tough, it’s my house.”

  “Definitely little pony girl.”

  “I suppose you’ll refuse to get me any more wine, and the moment I move the football is on.”

  “My plan is foiled.”

  “Looks like I’m sobering up tonight.”

  Pohl now came through with three plates on a tray. “Here we are, salt marsh lamb.”

  “And this is special why?

  “Ah Dee, just taste it!” Nazir laughed.

  “Because the salty marsh had seasoned the meat, it’s an interesting taste.”

  “Next time I’m cooking it’ll be a horse dish.” Nazir grinned, and Dee turned to him horrified. “You wouldn’t!”

  “Oh I would.”

  “You’ll be banned.”

  “Until you need something hacking when you’ll crawl back with curry sauce and demand some tasty equine.”

  “We’ve all eaten horse,” Pohl said solemnly.

  “Oh don’t r
emind me,” Dee sighed, “I started going to a local butcher after those supermarkets got screwed over.”

  “How very virtuous of you,” Nazir teased.

  “Then I had to stop because the butcher’s son dumped me for being weird.”

  “Your poor virtue.” But as Nazir looked at the three plates he had a thought. “Joe not coming again tonight?”

  “No,” Pohl answered, “he said something’s come up and he’s busy.”

  “He’s awfully busy lately, I wonder what he’s up to?”

  “I do miss him,” Pohl revealed, “I find it hard that he’s missed so many of our meals. It feels like part of our family is missing.”

  Dee sat down, took a sip of wine, and pondered. “That’s because one of our family is missing. And I don’t remember giving him permission to do anything without us. So the question is, what’s he doing?”

  Nazir laughed, “you’re dating Maquire, not him.”

  “And Jeff works round our meals, or we work our meals round Jeff, but the point is I haven’t missed any. So what’s he doing?”

  “Maybe he’s working with MI5 on their project?”

  “Good point Professor,” Nazir complimented, “Maybe your boy has graduated to a job.”

  “No, he would have told us about that.”

  “Dee, I sense you have a thought.” Nazir soon joined Pohl in looking at her.

  “Yes I do. He’s keeping something secret, and we said we shouldn’t do that. I want to know what it is. If he’s in trouble…”

  “Let’s ask!”

  “No Nazir, he won’t tell us, we always ask him if he’s okay, he says ‘fine’.”

  Nazir titled his head. “You’re suggesting I follow him aren’t you.”

  “Oh yes.”

  “Well this is creepy,” Pohl commented as she looked at the laptop Nazir was holding.

  “There is nothing creepy about using a tracking device to follow where your friend is going,” Nazir tried to argue.

  “Can we leave the philosophy for a second and tell me whether he went left or right?”

  “Right.”

  Although the group were determined to follow Joe and see where he was going, they soon realised he went there in a car, and didn’t want to tail him because he was bound to notice. Nazir had come up with the alternative: whack a tracker on Joe’s car, wait for it to go, and follow at a safe distance. And, amazingly, it was working, as the car was progressing along the map on Nazir’s machine and they were close behind.

  “Does this all look familiar?” Pohl asked, as they went over a bridge that looked very similar indeed.

  “This is where we found that girl, it’s something to do with that.”

  “Thank you Sherlock Dee.”

  “Shut up Watson, get following that tracker.”

  They drove for a few more minutes, before Nazir was able to tell them ‘he’s stopped.’ This was their cue to park their car and sneak along on foot, albeit on foot with a mobile phone held out almost in front.

  “Well squirrel fuck me, it’s the asylum.” Dee was right, there was Joe’s car parked up outside the crumbling edifice.

  “Why has he come here?” Pohl asked.

  “He must be talking to that ghost. Come on, full ninja mode.”

  Dee led the way as they crept through the building, and soon heard voices.

  “And what happened next?”

  “The Tardis flew off on its next journey.”

  “So many adventures, thank you for sharing them. Why don’t you put them on, what do you call it, the web?”

  “Then I’d be another sad, pathetic fan fiction writer.”

  “You’re not sad and pathetic to me.”

  “Thank you Polly, thank you, and there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

  “What is it Joe, you look very serious.”

  “I’ve thought about my life and I’ve decided to…”

  “You’re being spied on.”

  “…sorry, what?”

  “Your friends are around the corner.”

  “Thanks you bitch,” Dee called out as the group showed themselves.

  “Hey, don’t call Polly that, and what are you doing here anyway?”

  “We’re here to discover where you keep going, and why you’ve dumped your friends and the project. And it’s to come and speak to a ghost.”

  Joe was not happy with Dee’s tone. “Not ‘a’ ghost, with Polly.”

  “She’s still dead Joe.”

  “She might be dead, but I love her, and she loves me.”

  Joe stood defiant, glaring at Dee, who had frozen as she took it in. “You…you think you love her?”

  “I do love her!”

  “Fuck.”

  “You had your chance, but that chance is gone, now it’s Polly and I.”

  “Is this true Polly?” Pohl asked skeptically.

  “Yes,” came the voice quietly.

  “This is fucked up,” Dee decided.

  “You can’t come here and judge me, you had your chance.”

  “This isn’t about me or her, this is not jealousy. This is not ownership. This is me telling you that falling in love with a ghost is a bad idea.”

  “Is it?” Nazir whispered.

  “Of course it fucking is.”

  “I am here you know.”

  “Joe,” and Pohl realised she didn’t know what to say. But as the stand-off continued, Pohl decided to take a stab. “Does she make you happy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then maybe Dee we shouldn’t interfere. We can’t stop him coming here.”

  Dee decided her role as mother would be different, so she marched over, switched the machine off, picked it up and marched up to a stunned Joe. “You are coming home right now young man.”

  Joe’s jaw had dropped, and felt physically overawed by Dee, so he nodded sadly, let her take his hand, and let himself be walked off. Dee drove Joe’s car home, and Pohl took Dee’s.

  Pohl felt it all over again, this sense that she was losing control of her family, and on the journey home decided she would work hard to balance Dee out, whatever level of argument it took. They were soon all in Dee’s house, drinks and nibbles not served, and Dee tried to argue Joe into never going back, saying he needed some nice fleshy, living friends, like he had in this room, and he mustn’t think he loved a ghost. She sounded like a freaked out father telling his daughter not to let a biker touch her up anymore, and Pohl worked to moderate this, acting as concerned mother. Joe sat and took it, nodding, saying he was sorry, and acquiescing to their demands. He was contrite, realised he’d made an error of judgement, and promised to stop using the machine for a while. A group holiday was mooted, somewhere nice and warm and far away. Everyone was in agreement.

  When they finally let him go home he drove at a safe speed, parked up and made a coffee. Then he opened his laptop and looked at the collection of photographs he’d gathered of Polly. There was a class photo with all the girls in, the one from the newspaper when she died, and a snap from a Facebook history page. Just three, but very much Polly. His Polly. And as he looked at them, as he normally did, he realised that Dee had done him a favour. Dee had made his mind up, pushed him into a new place, made him realise the folly he’d been under. But not even remotely in the way she thought she was doing.

  Then he snapped the laptop off, looked at the machine, and knew he’d be heading back over to the asylum the next day, as soon as he’d been able to hire a van. Any van would do.

  A vehicle which was nominally white, but at this moment a combination of Saharan sand and English mud was now parked in front of the asylum, and to most people this was very conspicuous. But it had the advantage of capacious space in the back, and a lack of tracking device which Nazir had silently not removed from Joe’s car. But Joe didn’t care, he was just going for it, so he ran up to meet Polly and switched the machine on.

  “Joe, oh Joe, I didn’t think you were coming back!”

  “
I wouldn’t leave you Polly, I wouldn’t.”

  “The way you walked off with your friends, I thought…”

  “Just to get them off my back. I needed them to go away for a bit, so I could get my van here.”

  “Van?”

  “Yes, this is the thing Polly, it’s going to be hard for me to come here anymore. I have things to organise before, well, before, and they’ll stop me if I keep coming. Maybe they’d even have me locked up in another asylum!”

  “The monsters!”

  “But I’m not going to leave you Polly, I’m not, I promised I wouldn’t, so here’s what I’m going to do: your soul is anchored to the frame you used to sleep in. It’s got no mattress, the paint is rusting, and it smells funny, but it’s what you’re anchored to, and I’ve bought a van and I’m going to take the bed, and you, back to my house, where you can stay until… until I’m ready.”

  “Oh that’s fantastic, I get to travel!”

  “Yes” Joe beamed.

  “You’re sure this’ll work?”

  “I don’t see why not. I’ve been thinking it all through and I’m certain.”

  “Great, great. But, Joe, what do you mean before, ready? What’s happening?”

  “I’ve made a decision Polly, a big decision. There’s nothing in life holding me back, so I’m going to come join you as a ghost. We’ll pick a place, get your bed there, get me there, and we can be ghosts happy together.”

  “Yes, and I will wait sixty years for you to die!”

  “Sixty? No Polly, by the end of the year.”

  “Oh Joe, are you ill? What haven’t you told me?”

  “No, no Polly, I’m not ill. I’m just going to become a ghost.”

  “Do you mean?”

  “Yes. Us together, in the same state. I just can’t wait to see you with my eyes.”

  “Joe…”

  “A big step I know, and a shock to you. And I don’t even know if ghosts can get married, but let’s do this the best way we can.”

  “Married?”

  “Yes. I’ve bought a ring and everything,” and Joe produced a silver band with a single diamond on it.”

  “It looks wonderful, but expensive.”

  “Money’s no real worry now. But I want to make sure my affairs are in order, my nieces get my funds, the machine is left to the right people, all that sort of thing.”

  “Of course,” Polly said, who started to think. This was all so overwhelming she didn’t know how to react, and was veering from joy to horror and back again.