Make a Christmas Wish

by Julia Williams

  As I walk along, a soft whoosh of energy hits me. I feel as if someone is standing right next to me, but I am the only person on the street. I stop and look around.

  ‘Livvy?’ I say cautiously, but there’s no reply.

  Livvy

  Oh fantastic! I can barely contain my glee. I follow Adam from work to Emily’s flat. Presumably he’s gone to tell her that I’m still here. It’s frustrating being shut out of Emily’s flat. I have no idea what they have been saying to each other. Adam doesn’t stay long though, and I can tell they’ve had a row, as he storms off down the road with Emily shouting, ‘Adam, don’t go!’ after him. Good. I’ve created some cracks in their relationship.

  I follow Adam down the street, feeling the misery pour from him. The effects of the exorcism mean I can’t get as close to him as I’d like, but I can just brush past him, and get a glimpse of the turmoil in his head. He’s beginning to see things from my perspective at last.

  I fly over to Underworld to tell Letitia the good news.

  ‘Time for action,’ I say. I am so excited. Finally, finally I am going to get what I want.

  ‘You’re absolutely certain about the path you’re choosing?’ asks Letitia. ‘Because I have to warn you, there is no coming back from here.’

  ‘I know,’ I say impatiently. I want to get on with it. ‘You’ve told me all this before. And I understand that it may not work.’

  ‘And you realize this is deep dark stuff you’re meddling with,’ warns Letitia. ‘I don’t give this shit out just to anyone. It’s the ones like you, who are brave enough not to leave their lives behind, that I can work with.’

  I am flattered that she thinks I’m brave and it makes me feel slightly reckless.

  ‘And remember,’ says Letitia, ‘you have until midnight on Christmas Eve, to win him around.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah, you told me,’ I say. ‘If I don’t succeed, I get stuck here.’ I don’t have any worries on that score now. I’m confident I can do it. Adam is weakening, I can tell.

  ‘And I own your ass,’ says Letitia, smiling knowingly. Despite my confidence, somehow I don’t find this reassuring.

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘Is he worth the risk?’ she says.

  ‘He’s worth it,’ I say, and he is. Making this choice has made me see just how much I love Adam, and Joe needs me. It wasn’t fair that I died before we had a chance to sort our marriage out. I deserve this second chance. Besides, I think Letitia is overegging the dire warnings as part of her I-am-the-Big-I-Am-of-Underworld schtick.

  ‘And you’re still sure you want to go ahead?’

  ‘Certain,’ I say. All I can think about is seeing Adam properly again, and having the chance to remind him of how good we are together.

  ‘I will be normal, right?’ I say. ‘No funny bumps on the head or deformities?’

  ‘None,’ says Letitia.

  ‘Great,’ I say. ‘Let’s do it.’

  Emily

  Emily felt utterly miserable after Adam left, the argument running through her head like the worst kind of earworm. She knew she was right and Livvy wanted to get rid of her. Why did Adam have to be so stubborn? And why was he suddenly taking Livvy’s part?

  A sudden clutch of fear gripped her. What if Adam was changing his mind? Perhaps he regretted not having the chance to get back together with Livvy after all.

  The more she thought about it, the more Emily worried about what her and Adam’s relationship was based on. They had been thrown into such turmoil when Livvy died, perhaps it had only been natural that Adam clung to her afterwards. Maybe he didn’t really love Emily at all, had just thought he did? What if Livvy coming back to haunt them had thrown things into sharp relief? They were married a long time. Perhaps that counted for more than an affair that was born out of misery and frustration. How on earth could Emily compete with a dead spurned wife? Livvy had all the moral high ground.

  ‘Hell, Adam is right,’ Emily said aloud. ‘I am totally jealous of a ghost.’

  This was ridiculous. Livvy was dead. Emily was the one with a real live breathing body. But however Livvy had done it, she was definitely driving a wedge between Emily and Adam. Maybe it was time for him to be clear about what he really wanted. Emily’s presence meant he hadn’t had a chance to grieve for Livvy properly. Perhaps they needed to talk about that.

  Emily found him at home. He looked as miserable as she felt when he opened the door. Within seconds they were in each other’s arms, frantically apologizing to one another.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Emily said, tears in her eyes, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘Me neither,’ said Adam.

  He pulled Emily into the hallway and they stood holding each other for a very long time. She felt secure in his arms; she’d been wrong, Livvy couldn’t touch them. How could she ever have doubted him?

  ‘Adam,’ Emily said, pulling away. ‘We need to talk.’

  ‘I know,’ he sighed. She followed him into the lounge.

  Joe was sitting watching Elf on the TV. It was his favourite Christmas film. Emily felt sure he’d watched it every week since about October.

  Joe looked at her.

  ‘Dad says Mum hasn’t gone.’

  ‘No, I don’t think she has,’ Emily said.

  ‘Good,’ said Joe. ‘Maybe you can talk to her, if Dad won’t.’

  Right. Just what Emily wanted to do.

  ‘Maybe,’ she said, ‘but right now I need to talk to your dad.’

  They went into the kitchen and sat down. Adam poured them each a glass of wine.

  ‘Well?’ he said.

  ‘Well,’ Emily said. ‘I think there’s an elephant in the room that needs addressing.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Adam. ‘And that is?’

  ‘Livvy,’ Emily said firmly, though she felt on shaky ground. ‘I have to know: are you really over her?’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Adam

  ‘What?’

  Emily had never said anything like this to me before and I look at her in disbelief.

  ‘Of course I’m over Livvy, what on earth makes you think I’m not?’

  Although is this strictly true? I know I’m not in love with Livvy any more. I do love her, though; part of me always will, and I hate the fact that I’ve hurt her. But I’m hating the fact that Emily is sitting in front of me looking so miserable even more.

  ‘Ever since Livvy’s turned up, you haven’t been the same,’ she says. ‘I get that you feel bad about what happened. I get that you want to sort things out with her, but since the exorcism, I’m feeling that maybe you think we’ve – you’ve – made a mistake.’

  Oh crap. Why does everything have to be so complicated? If only life could be black and white, neat and tidy, and you could turn off unwanted emotions like a tap.

  Emily takes a deep breath and continues, ‘You need to choose, Adam. It’s her or me.’

  ‘Emily, don’t be daft,’ I say, going to hug her. She clings to me and I can tell she’s trying not to cry. I kiss her softly on the top of the head. I feel that I need to be honest, but I choose my words carefully.

  ‘I fell out of love with Livvy a long time ago, whatever we once had it’s gone …’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But,’ how to say this without sounding like an utter bastard, ‘I hate the fact that Livvy died, that Joe lost his mum, that I didn’t get to sort things out. I do still love her, and I am still grieving for her. Does that make any kind of sense?’

  Emily nodded.

  ‘But, Emily, it’s you I want, of course it is. Even if Livvy were to turn up here, alive and well, it would still be you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ I say firmly. ‘From the very first moment I met you in that coffee shop, you got right under my skin. Livvy and I were over long before you appeared on the scene. I’m not saying I don’t feel quite confused right now. I was married to Livvy for a long time and I wish I’d had the chance to tell her properly that
I was leaving. But it’s you I want and love and need.’

  ‘Oh Adam,’ says Emily. She kisses me on the lips and we stand there for a long time just holding one another.

  ‘Now come on, let’s stop rowing,’ I say. ‘I know this situation is crazy, but let’s pretend everything is normal, and shall we at least try and have the best Christmas we can?’

  ‘So even if she were here in the flesh, you’d still choose me?’ Emily seems to need the reassurance.

  ‘Always,’ I say. ‘Anyway, that’s not going to happen, so don’t even think about it.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past her to find a way,’ says Emily.

  ‘How can she?’ I say. ‘She’s a ghost. And if she won’t leave us alone we can always get Father Dave to come back. It will be fine, you’ll see.’

  Emily

  Emily sat down to watch TV with Adam and Joe, feeling a lot better. She’d been becoming far too paranoid; Livvy had really got under her skin. But now knowing that she and Adam were strong enough to stick together, Emily was confident that whatever happened next they wouldn’t let Livvy wear them down.

  The rest of the evening passed peacefully enough. They laughed with Joe – who was thawing enough to talk to Adam again – at some rubbish Christmas quiz shows on TV, and it felt cosy and normal. Knowing Livvy didn’t seem able to come into the house any more meant that Emily dared to hope they might be able to actually enjoy Christmas. However much she might want to, Livvy wasn’t going to ruin their Christmas Day. Joe also seemed happier, knowing that Livvy was still around.

  ‘You will speak to her, won’t you?’ he asked, at one point. ‘I think it would make Mum happy if you talked to her.’

  ‘If there’s a way that I can, Joe,’ said Adam. ‘I don’t want your mum being sad.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Joe, ‘she’d like that.’

  Joe seemed content with that answer and took himself off to bed. Adam and Emily finished the remains of the wine and dozed together by the fire, feeling more relaxed and content than they had since Livvy had showed up. They were together, and nothing else mattered.

  ‘Oh Adam, look, it’s snowing,’ Emily said, as they cleared up in the kitchen before going to bed.

  ‘Maybe we’ll actually get a white Christmas after all,’ said Adam.

  They stood by the back door, looking out as the snow fell on the lawn, swiftly covering it in a white blanket. It felt like a perfect ending to a shitty day.

  ‘It’s so magical,’ said Emily. ‘I’m going to take that as a good sign.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Adam, ‘now come on, let’s get to bed.’

  So they went to bed and made long slow languorous love before falling asleep in one another’s arms. Emily had the best night’s sleep she’d had in weeks.

  By morning the snow was about six inches deep, and the snow ploughs were out and about.

  Joe was so excited, he came racing in in the morning to tell them.

  ‘There are angels in the garden,’ he said.

  ‘Sorry?’ Adam looked confused, until Emily got up to look out of the window.

  ‘Oh I get it,’ she said, ‘there are snow angels in the garden.’

  ‘Did you make them, Joe?’ asked Adam, puzzled for a moment.

  ‘It wasn’t me,’ said Joe with a shrug.

  And then, when they went downstairs to have breakfast, everything became clear. The window had misted up with condensation and Emily went cold all over as she saw a message written on the window.

  Oh no.

  Did you miss me? it said.

  Livvy

  Letitia’s plan is very simple. She has access to something she refers to as ‘old power’, which I have a feeling Malachi won’t approve of. We’re sitting in Adam’s back garden, and it’s time to take action.

  ‘I’m not making a deal with the devil or anything like that, am I?’ I ask. I’ve no desire to get what I want in this life, only to discover I’ve made some kind of Faustian pact for the next.

  ‘No you are not, girl,’ she replies. ‘You need to have more faith in me.’

  ‘OK,’ I say, ‘so what do I have to do?’

  ‘All you need is some of Letitia’s special potion,’ she says, ‘and you’ll have a window of opportunity to go back.’

  Special potion? This is sounding a bit like Death Becomes Her. I swallow hard; if I remember rightly, things didn’t end too well for Goldie Hawn and Meryl Streep in that film. I hope Letitia’s potion doesn’t have any nasty side effects.

  ‘And I’ll be able to go into the house again?’

  ‘Better than that,’ says Letitia. ‘Once you drink this, you get your body back too. You can walk through that door, like you did when you were alive. That’ll stir things up.’

  Won’t it just.

  ‘Bring it on!’ I say.

  ‘But like I said before,’ she warns, ‘you only have till Christmas Eve to get what you want.’

  ‘Fine,’ I say, ‘let’s do it.’

  She hands me a phial of clear liquid. I’m a little disappointed, shouldn’t it steam or something like the other one did? But I’m so excited about the thought of actually being near Adam and Joe, I take it from her anyway.

  ‘Now you go, girl,’ she says, ‘you go and get your man.’

  And then, before my eyes, she fades away.

  So now I’m back in Adam’s garden, sitting outside, looking at the snow. I’ve attracted their attention with the snow angels and my message on the kitchen window. Time to take things further.

  I undo the phial, and look at it. Is it worth the risk? I look up at the house, where I can see Adam, Emily and Joe looking out at the snow angels I made. Of course it is.

  I open the phial and go to tip it in my mouth.

  Joe’s Notebook

  I woke up to snow angels in the garden.

  It was like magic.

  Mum used to tell me a story about a magic snow angel when I was little.

  She was a Christmas miracle and came to life on Christmas Day.

  I have had my Christmas Miracle.

  I am sure the angels are from Mum.

  The exorcism didn’t work.

  This is good.

  Dad and Emily don’t seem happy.

  This is bad.

  But I think Mum is back.

  This is very good.

  My Christmas wish has come early.

  Christmas Present

  ‘It’s not going to make things better, you know,’ Malachi is here again, having a go.

  Great. He’s come back to try and stop me.

  ‘You’re wrong,’ I say. I don’t care about Malachi’s lectures now. ‘This is my one chance to get Adam to see the truth.’

  ‘You haven’t made his life miserable enough already?’ asks Malachi.

  ‘We were happy once,’ I say defensively. ‘We can be again. I have to at least try.’

  ‘It’ll end in tears,’ says Malachi, ‘but on your own head be it. And remember there are other ways this story can end.’ And with a whisk of his tail, I am back in that damned miserable parallel universe he keeps insisting on showing me.

  It’s nearly the end of October in my alternative present. Christmas is coming, and I should be looking forward to it, considering I could so easily not have seen it. Adam has become quite distant since the barbecue incident. He hasn’t gone on about it, for which I’m grateful, but I can feel his disappointment, and he never brings alcohol into the house any more. It makes me frustrated. I made one stupid mistake, it’s not like I have a problem now. And now I’m so much better I don’t need painkillers, so that’s not going to happen again. But Adam watches me like a hawk, making me feel guilty if I so much as look at a bottle of wine. So I’m ending up drinking in secret, when he’s out of the house.

  Joe on the other hand seems chipper and cheerful, but I hardly see him now. He seems to have acquired a girlfriend from somewhere. She’s called Caroline and seems nice, but she’s taking up a lot of his time. I shou
ld be pleased for him, I never thought that would happen for Joe, but somehow I’m not. I feel like I’m being supplanted; and if Joe doesn’t need me, why am I here?

  ‘Maybe you should go back to work,’ Adam suggests one day, when I am having a moan about how dull my day has been. I would love to, but after so long I feel deskilled and useless. I am not up to date with new technology, I haven’t worked in fourteen years; who on earth is going to employ me? It wouldn’t matter so much if I didn’t have the nagging sensation that I am losing Adam again. He is vague about his movements after work, and after a lapse of some months has taken up swimming again with a vengeance. I am vaguely uneasy about it – could he be cheating on me? Would he still, after what has happened?

  My worst fears are confirmed when I am having a restless mooch into town and I run into Marigold, who insists on going for a coffee. I always got on with her before, but since my accident she’s taken to treating me like a small child who needs protection. It drives me insane. She spent months ‘dropping by’ to help out, which I might have welcomed in anyone else. Most of my so-called friends dropped me like a brick when I was in hospital, even Miranda hasn’t been round. I suggested going for a drink once, but she made her excuses, so I haven’t seen her in ages.

  And now, here I am having a coffee with Marigold, who won’t take no for an answer. When we are sitting down, I understand why.

  ‘I feel I just have to tell you, Livvy,’ she says, in a patronizing manner which grates hugely. ‘I won’t be able to live with my conscience if I don’t.’

  Can’t you, I think, can’t you really? But she’s unstoppable.

  ‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news’ – she’s really not, there’s a gleeful air about her – ‘but I think you ought to know.’

  ‘I think I probably don’t need to,’ I say. I can tell I’m not going to like whatever it is.