Christmas Present
‘That was both unkind and unnecessary,’ Malachi hisses at me from a bush behind the front door to Emily’s flat. The hackles on his back are rising. Oops, I think I’ve really pissed him off this time.
‘I’m feeling quite pleased with myself actually,’ I say. ‘That was enormous fun.’
‘To scare Emily half to death?’ snorts Malachi. ‘That is not what you’re meant to be doing.’
‘I don’t care what you think I should be doing,’ I say. I’m fed up with him hassling me. ‘I want Emily out of Adam’s life, and I’m not going to let you stop me.’
‘OK, you asked for it,’ says Malachi. ‘Here’s another little peek into that wonderful life you’re after. Enjoy,’ and he strolls off with his nose in the air.
I am back again in Malachi’s idea of the present, but not how I imagined it. The car pulls up outside the house. A few months seem to have passed and it’s a cold April day, with a vicious wind. I start to get out of the car, and Adam says, ‘Steady! I know you’re keen to get home, but you’re not ready to do it on your own.’
I try to laugh, but I’m puzzled. What’s going on? It seems I must have been in hospital a long time, and I look on in horror as Adam takes out a wheelchair from the back of the car, and manoeuvres it into position by the passenger door.
‘I’m not getting in that,’ I say flatly.
‘Livvy.’ Adam’s voice is gentle. ‘You have to accept the situation. At the moment, you need it. Come on, please don’t cause a scene.’
He looks desperate, and I notice rings around his eyes. I’m being a bitch, it’s not his fault. But I’m in a wheelchair? Is this permanent?
I allow Adam to help me into the chair and say nothing as he pushes me up the new ramp to our house. There’s a banner saying Welcome Home, Mum above the door, which Joe has made.
‘Do you like it, Mum?’ he says, and I smile and say, ‘Of course I do.’
Adam is clearly on tenterhooks as he shows me round the house to see how I will react to the changes that have been made. There are grab rails everywhere and our downstairs cupboard has been converted to a wet room. I want to explode with rage. I survived the accident only to end up in a wheelchair? It can’t end like this. I want to let out all the things in my head, but one look at Adam tells me I mustn’t. My heart bleeds for him. He’s is trying so hard. Everyone is.
‘It won’t be forever,’ says Mum with that fake cheerful smile on her face, trying to make this seem better than it is. ‘We’ll soon have you up and walking again.’
Even Adam’s parents are here as part of the welcoming committee and being kind to me. And that spooks me the most.
Only Joe is guaranteed to be straight with me.
‘Will you ever walk again?’ he says as Adam pushes me into the lounge, and I ooh and aah at the cards and flowers that people have left, and the cake that Mum has made. Everyone’s made such an effort, and it is rotten to feel so ungrateful.
‘Joe!’ says Adam. ‘Of course Mum will walk again.’
I glare at Adam. Lying to Joe is so not helpful.
‘I don’t know, sweetie,’ I say. ‘Apparently I was pretty smashed up in the accident. It’ll take time to find out how much better I’m going to be.’
‘Livvy!’
Now I’ve shocked Adam. I’m clearly supposed to be putting a brave face on this, but it’s impossible when I’ve come home in a wheelchair, to a house fitted with disabled aids.
‘Now that’s not the attitude, young lady,’ says Mary. ‘You’re lucky to be here. It could have been very different.’
Oh good, from her lofty perspective of being both alive and not in a wheelchair Mary is about to launch into a little homily of why I should be grateful for the things I have. I am going to enjoy this.
Fortunately, Adam butts in with, ‘Mum’s got a point, Livvy. A fraction higher and you might not have been here. It doesn’t bear thinking about.’
For his sake and not for Mary’s I say, ‘I know, I know I’ve been lucky, it just feels overwhelming, that’s all.’ I squeeze his hand and try to be cheerful, but as I look around at my home, and my family surrounding me with love and concern, I’m not sure that I feel very lucky right now. And just as I’m thinking this, I’m suddenly back at Malachi’s side, feeling shaken to the core.
Chapter Sixteen
Six Days till Christmas
Emily
Emily grabbed her things and raced round to Adam’s house, too scared to stay in her flat for a moment longer. Although what if Livvy was waiting for her there? The thought terrified her, but anything was better than being on her own.
Adam was back from church, and Joe was round at Caroline’s, so Emily was able to pour out the story without worrying about Joe overhearing. She was so hysterical she could hardly get the words out.
‘Adam, she hates me. She wants to get rid of me. I can’t stand it any more. We have to do something.’
Adam held Emily tight. ‘I am so sorry for this,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry that Livvy is putting you through it. It should be me she’s punishing, not you.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Emily said, with a watery smile. ‘You can’t help having a psychopathic dead wife.’
‘This is getting serious,’ said Adam. He looked thoughtful, and then went to a drawer in the kitchen, and rooted around in it.
‘What are you looking for?’ Emily was puzzled.
‘Hang on a minute, ah, yes here it is, Zandra left this, in case we needed it. I think we might now.’ He handed Emily a card which bore the legend:
Fr Dave, Exorcist Extraordinaire
Troubled by spooks, disturbed by noises in the attic?
Consult Fr Dave. Your Expert in Exorcism.
‘How about it?’ he said. ‘It’s got to be worth a shot, surely?’
‘Doesn’t that sound a bit vindictive?’ Emily said, although really, if it worked, it would certainly solve their problems.
‘We can’t go on like this,’ said Adam. ‘Look at you, you’re terrified. What if Livvy really hurt you?’
It was true, Emily had never been so scared in her life. Livvy had rattled her badly.
‘Maybe Livvy just wants to scare me off,’ she said.
‘It’s a bit of a risk to take,’ said Adam.
‘What about Joe? He’ll be so upset. You have to think about Joe.’
‘I know,’ Adam sighed, ‘I really don’t know what to do. But I don’t think Livvy’s left us much choice. Maybe if I explain to him …’
They looked at each other helplessly.
‘Seems like we’re between a rock and a hard place,’ said Emily eventually. ‘OK, let’s give it a go.’
Livvy
They want to exorcize me? Huh. I was only trying to scare Emily. And I still need to talk to Adam. Some people take things way too seriously. I don’t really want to hurt her, I just want her out of my family’s life. I feel like Dolly Parton. Please don’t take my man, just because you can, thanks to the inconvenient fact that you’re alive and I’m not.
Emily’s young and pretty enough to find anyone. Why did she have to choose my Adam?
Because you let him down. That’s a sneaky thought, worthy of Malachi. I squash it immediately. I don’t want to think about any of this being my fault. Adam cheated on me and I’m the dead one. I’m the victim here.
There’s no point going to ask Malachi how I avoid an exorcism. He’ll probably tell me I deserve it, but someone at Underworld must have an idea about what to do.
So I head straight there, knowing I’ll at least get a sympathetic hearing. From what I observed from the night of the seance, they’re a pretty tight-knit community. The dead look after their own. I need help and fast, because the last thing I want right now is to be shut out of Adam’s life permanently. Besides, I’m not quite sure what happens when you’re exorcized, particularly when you haven’t finished whatever your unfinished business is. Do you get sent to hell? It doesn’t sou
nd like it would be very pleasant.
There aren’t many people at the bar. DJ Steve is lolling around looking like he’s had a big night. His eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s puffing on a cigarette.
‘Now you’re a sight for sore eyes,’ he says. ‘And after the night I’ve just had my eyes are really sore. Fancy a drink?’
‘Sounds tempting,’ I say, laughing. DJ Steve has a way of cheering me up.
‘Are you allowed to do that in here?’
He looks, flicking his dreadlocks over his shoulder. ‘Who’s going to stop me? Nobody here can get secondary lung cancer.’
That is a point I hadn’t considered.
‘How’s it hanging?’ he asks. ‘Do you fancy a drink?’
‘Not tonight,’ I say. ‘I’m here for some advice. My husband wants me exorcized.’
‘Now that’s a bad rap,’ he says. ‘What a fool. If you were mine, I’d be dying to have you back if I wasn’t dead already.’
‘Well you’re not, sadly,’ I say. ‘And my husband wants rid of me.’
God, that sounds terrible. He’s so keen to have me out of his life, he wants to cut me away. For the first time since I started all this haunting malarkey, I wonder if I’m taking the right approach. Rather than driving a wedge between Adam and Emily, I seem to have succeeded into pushing him into her arms.
‘Steve,’ I say, ‘is there a way to get back properly, so I’m visible to them? Malachi skated over it when I asked him. If my husband could actually see me, I’m sure he’d think differently.’
‘Well,’ says Steve, ‘it’s tricky, and not without – um – complications, but I do know someone who might be able to help – though you might not like the end result.’
‘And that person is?’ I say. I refuse to be fobbed off by Steve, like I have been by Malachi. ‘Come on, you must know.’
‘Name of Letitia,’ says Steve, ‘but you gotta be careful round her. She talks the talk, but she can be … tricksy.’
‘Tricksy, how?’ I say. Is this some kind of conspiracy? Even the rebellious spirit guide is trying to put me off.
‘Well, you’ll see,’ says Steve. ‘Just be careful what you wish for, Letitia’s wishes can come true in ways you don’t expect. And there are people here who could tell you a tale or two.’
I’m not interested in what anyone else can tell me, I’m impatient to meet this Letitia.
‘But she can help?’ I persist. What is it with these underworld types and their doom-mongering. We’re all dead, how much worse can it get?
‘I never said she couldn’t help,’ says Steve. ‘Just that things might not turn out exactly as you hoped.’
‘I don’t care,’ I say, ‘I can’t go on like this.’
‘Well, I’ll see what I can do,’ says Steve, and for now I have to be content with that.
Adam
I’m sitting at work fingering Father Dave’s card: Exorcism my speciality. It sounds incredibly stupid and naff. Do priests normally advertise their powers of exorcism? Reports are piling up on my desk. Everyone wants to push things through before they go away by the end of the week. I know I should be getting on with them, but I can’t concentrate.
This is such a huge decision. I told Emily I’d give Father Dave a call and arrange for him to come round. I don’t want anything to happen to her, and it seems like the logical thing to do. But I’m torn. Do I really want to take this path? Get rid of Livvy completely? It strikes me we might have been given a second chance here, Livvy and I. If only I could reach out to her, get her to talk to me, try and sort out what went wrong with our marriage and make her accept what’s happened is for the best. If we could make our peace with one another, maybe she can go to – wherever the dead go, and Emily and I can really get on with our lives.
And then there’s Joe. I am worried about him. He’s been spending a lot of time in the attic looking through his telescope in the last few days, and seems to have become even more withdrawn. He says Livvy is sitting with him. Ever since this started he’s been fixated on the idea of seeing his mum again. How will he take it if I send her away for good? If I don’t explain this to him in the right way he’ll be really angry with me and he’ll have lost her once more. But if I don’t try the exorcism, maybe Emily and I won’t get the chance to be together happily and instead we’ll be stuck in this limbo forever, my guilt about Livvy and Livvy’s actions poisoning our future.
But it’s already poisoned. Another thought comes to me. Livvy hasn’t shown any signs of being anything other than bitter and angry. She hasn’t tried to talk to me any more than she did when she was alive. She doesn’t want to stop being seen as the victim. She doesn’t want to put things right. I have to face it: it didn’t work with Livvy when she was alive, why should it work now she’s dead?
I pick up the card again. Father Dave, exorcism. Cutting out. Getting rid. Time to move on.
I dial his number.
Chapter Seventeen
Livvy
DJ Steve leads me to a back bar where a beautiful, sleek-looking black woman is sitting holding court to a group of what I can only call acolytes. She’s stunning, dressed in a slinky black dress, her only adornments a silver necklace and some plain pearl studs; her long legs are encased in satin tights, and she is wearing leopardskin kitten heels.
‘Let me introduce you to Letitia,’ says DJ Steve. ‘She can help you get what you want. But be warned, it might not be what you need.’
Letitia – I’m sure Robert mentioned her name the first time I came to Underworld. She seems important, as even DJ Steve is deferential around her, and as she flashes her brown eyes I sense an undercurrent of danger. Everyone around her seems overwhelmingly respectful. I swallow hard. What am I doing? I feel sure that Letitia comes under the term unsuitable in Malachi’s terminology. But then I decide I don’t have a choice and I have to act fast.
Letitia smiles at me. It seems a friendly smile, but there’s a dash of menace in it. I wouldn’t like to get on the wrong side of her.
‘So I’ve been hearing you’re having some trouble, hon,’ she says.
‘You could say that,’ I say. ‘My husband wants to exorcize me.’
‘Now that’s just vicious!’ says Letitia. ‘These Lifers just don’t understand sometimes.’ Her voice drips like honey, it’s utterly mesmerizing, and soon I find myself telling her everything.
‘I didn’t make much of my life,’ I tell her, ‘but I seem to be making a total cock-up of my death. I never get anything right.’
‘Never say never,’ says Letitia with a surprisingly infectious grin. ‘You just gotta think positive, girl.’
‘So what can I do?’ I say. ‘If I go back to the house, they’re going to try and get rid of me.’
‘You leave that to me, honey,’ says Letitia. ‘I can help you, if that’s what you want.’
‘I do,’ I say, ‘so long as – you know – it’s legit.’
She laughs again, a deep rolling laugh. ‘Ain’t no laws when you’re dead, honey,’ she says, which seems to contradict everything Malachi has told me. ‘Or not like any you’d recognize. We’re going to fool your husband into thinking he’s got rid of you, and then we’ll come right back, and knock him – kapow – between the eyes.’
That sounds more like it. I was clearly right to come to her for advice. At last someone on this side of the life/death divide who seems to know what they’re talking about.
‘Between the eyes,’ agrees Steve.
Letitia looks at him pityingly and says, ‘Now shush, Steve, you have no idea what you’re talking about. Livvy and I are going to have a bit of a chat. There are some secrets which are for her ears only.’
Letitia takes me into a little room at the back end of the bar. It’s simply decorated but chic, rather like her.
‘Drink, honey?’ she says, pouring a glass of wine.
Why not? I think. While it’s not ideal, it’s better than where I might soon be going. I may as well drink while I still can.
‘So, now, tell me everything,’ she says. ‘Why does that husband of yours want to get rid of you?’
I pour out the whole story, about how Adam and I fell out of love – ‘Partly my fault,’ I find myself admitting to Letitia in a way I haven’t been able to to Malachi, about Emily, and about Joe. Most of all about Joe.
‘Well that’s too bad,’ she says. ‘A boy needs his mother.’
Yes, I think, this particular boy really really does.
‘So can you help me?’ I say when I get to the end.
‘Let me ask you a question?’ she says. ‘What do you want – deep down in your heart?’
‘To be back at home with Adam and Joe,’ I say in a heartbeat. ‘To have a chance to put things right.’
‘That should be doable,’ said Letitia. ‘But you have to understand, these things are unpredictable. People don’t always behave … the way you want them to. Are you prepared for that?’
‘Adam and Joe will,’ I say with utter confidence. I know it’s a question of reaching out to Adam again. I can make him come back to me.
‘Well in that case,’ she says with a grin, ‘what are we waiting for? First off, we have to stop this exorcism working properly, and I have just the thing for that.’
She goes to a cupboard in the back of the room, and roots around in the drawer until she finds what she is looking for. Then she produces a phial of an amber-green liquid. I swear it fizzes when she lifts the lid.
‘What’s that?’ I ask. ‘Is it some kind of drug?’
‘Oh no, honey,’ she says, holding the phial between her elegantly manicured fingers. ‘I just prefer to fight fire with fire. Your friendly exorcist will try to cast a spell to get rid of you; this is its antidote. It’s not strong enough to entirely negate the spell, but it will stop you from being cast out completely.’
‘And you’re sure it will work?’
‘Oh yes,’ says Leititia, with that dazzling smile and those flashing brown eyes. ‘Trust me. I’ve done this before.’
Make a Christmas Wish Page 17