Tamsyn Murray-My So-Called Haunting

by Tamsyn Murray

  ‘Why?’ I said, feeling a sudden rush of defensiveness. ‘He’s all right.’

  Actually, he was more than all right, especially at kissing, but there was such a thing as too much information.

  ‘I overheard him talking about you,’ Dontay said, not looking at me. ‘Let’s just say it wasn’t all sugar and spice.’

  I stopped rubbing my ankles to stare at him. ‘When?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ His expression was evasive. ‘All you need to know is that he ain’t no Mr Nice Guy.’

  Turning to face him, I repeated, ‘When?’

  Dontay sighed. ‘One Saturday night. After you’d been to that gig and he’d walked you home.’

  My jaw dropped. ‘You followed me? But I thought it was Mary!’

  ‘Yeah, well, it weren’t.’ He shuffled on his seat. ‘She asked me to look out for you and I didn’t have nothing better to do.’

  ‘So you thought you’d spy on me,’ I said in disgust, still reeling from the thought of him watching Nico and me doing – well, I didn’t want to think about what we’d been up to that night. ‘Pervert.’

  ‘It weren’t like that,’ he insisted, his face wretched. ‘I hung back, didn’t get too close or nothing. Then, when you’d gone inside, I thought I’d make sure he got back to the tube all right. That’s when I heard him on the phone.’

  As furious as I was, I couldn’t help myself. ‘What did he say?’

  ‘Not much at first, just described you and the date. Then he told whoever it was that he didn’t think you’d be up for it. He said you were too nice.’ I rolled my eyes; it was hardly CSI: Highgate. ‘That could mean anything. Is that it?’

  Dontay looked uncomfortable. ‘No. He got into an argument then, saying he didn’t want to be in no gang and to find someone else. And he said he wasn’t going back to Romania.’

  Drawing in a shallow breath, I repeated the words in my mind. Nico couldn’t be in a gang. He wasn’t the type, for a start. Maybe he’d meant the family friends he’d told me about. ‘What gang?’

  With a tiny shake of his head, Dontay said, ‘The Solomons, I think he called them. I’ve never heard of them and I know all the London massives.’

  ‘You’re wrong,’ I stated, refusing to accept what he’d said. ‘He must have been talking about someone else.’

  Dontay studied me. ‘I don’t think so, Skye. You’d better ask him about it next time you see him.’

  I still couldn’t get my head around the fact that he’d followed me and watched us snogging. My cheeks flushed. Suddenly, the ice seemed a lot more inviting than talking to Dontay and I laced up my skates with hurried fingers. ‘I’m going back out. Coming?’

  Please say no, a voice whispered in my head.

  ‘Nah,’ he replied. ‘I’ll watch. I could do with a laugh.’

  He had to have got the wrong end of the stick, I decided as I gripped the side wall and concentrated on putting as much distance between us as possible. The Solomons? What kind of a name was that for a gang? Nico was back in Romania, but he wasn’t stupid enough to get caught up in something like that. Was he? I gnawed my lip and edged forwards. I trusted Nico, but there wasn’t any harm in Googling Romanian gangs when I got home. Then I could reassure Dontay that his fears were Chinese whispers and nothing more.

  A boy grabbed at my sleeve to steady himself. For a second, we both teetered, then he got his balance and shot off, flashing me a cheeky grin. I glanced over at Dontay to see him smirking in my direction. Had his last comment really been necessary? OK, so I wasn’t exactly channelling a Russian figure skater right now, but I’d get better. One of the marshals whizzed in front of me and stopped in a flash of silver blades, showering my feet with frosty powder. To tally ignoring me, he grinned at a group of girls and started chatting them up.

  ‘Show off,’ I muttered under my breath and let go of the wall to navigate around him. I’d show him and everyone else; by the end of the session I’d be gliding like straighteners over frizz or die trying.

  ‘Guess who’s back?’

  Megan’s eyes were dancing with excitement as I slid into my seat on Monday morning and that could only mean one thing: Nico.

  I winced at the pain in my bum; I had a bruise there the size of Africa to show for my attempts at an elegant twirl the night before, but Megan’s news dulled the ache. ‘You’ve seen him?’

  She nodded. ‘Ye p. You’d have seen him too if you’d got here on time. I think he was looking for you.’

  Frowning, I made a mental note to get revenge on Mary for stealing my school tie. If I hadn’t wasted ten minutes looking for it, I wouldn’t have been late. Catching a lift from Jeremy was out of the question now that Isobel had taken to jumping into the car with us. But maybe it was just as well I hadn’t seen Nico; I had questions to ask, not to mention a burning need to kiss him, and the corridor outside my classroom wasn’t the place for either of those things. ‘I’ll find him later.’

  Mr Exton cleared his throat, signalling he’d had enough of the chatter, and Megan reluctantly turned round to face the front. Ellie shot me a dirty look and I waggled my fingers at her. She’d said nothing since the kiss in the corridor and I knew she was on the look-out for signs that things weren’t going well. When she glanced away, I allowed a tiny smile of anticipation to creep over my face. Nico was back. I couldn’t wait to see him.

  Megan had athletics practice at lunchtime, something that was happening more and more often now that she’d made the squad. I was sitting with a group of girls I was on nodding terms with, joining in with their conversation occasionally. Despite spending most of the day scanning the crowds for Nico, I hadn’t spotted him, and I was only half listening to the chatter of the girls around me when he sauntered into the canteen. I stopped picking at the crusted-over lasagne in front of me and stared as he stopped to speak to a group of boys.Then he looked across directly at me. I stood and just about managed to fight the urge to dive across the room into his arms. Instead, I smiled and waited as he came towards me.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. ‘Miss me?’

  I smiled back. ‘No.’

  Dr Bailey was patrolling the tables and spied my empty juice carton. ‘Recycling bin. Careless cartons cost lives!’

  For an instant, I wondered whether Nico might have heard, but he showed no signs that he had. ‘I missed you,’ he said. He reached out to trail his fingers along the back of my hand and lowered his voice. ‘I missed kissing you.’

  His touch caused a shiver of pleasure. I fantasised briefly about snogging him there and then. ‘OK, so maybe I missed you a bit.’

  He grinned. ‘Meet me after school? I’ve got something to tell you.’

  I threw him a sharp look. Was it my imagination or was there was something subtly different about him? The long, floppy fringe was the same and his lips were as irresistible as ever, but something had altered, and I couldn’t work out what it was. I couldn’t help wondering exactly what had happened while he’d been away. My Google search had drawn a blank – if there was a gang called the Solomons in Romania, I hadn’t found it. I rubbed my eyes and blinked. Maybe I was seeing things that weren’t really there.

  ‘Yeah,’ I said and his pleasure made the last of my worries melt away. ‘You can walk me home if you like.’

  Dr Bailey had circled back to us. He stopped and stared hard at Nico. ‘Yours is a dark path, boy,’ he said, bushy eyebrows lowered in a disapproving frown. ‘Step back before it’s too late.’

  My mouth fell open, but the teacher was gone before I could ask him what he meant. A dark path? I knew the sun set early, but it wouldn’t be that dark when we walked home. Nico saw my puzzled expression and leaned down to whisper in my ear. ‘What is it? Is there a ghost here?’

  He sounded eager and I remembered the look in his eyes up on Parliament Hill when he’d talked about contacting the dead, like it was something he’d dreamed of all his life. I summoned up a strained smile. ‘No. I ju
st realised I forgot my biology homework, that’s all. I’d better go and find Megan to copy hers.’

  As I headed out of the canteen, I tried not to think about Dr Bailey’s words. Nico might be curious about my gift, but that didn’t mean he was on ‘a dark path’. Why did everyone think he was up to no good?

  Megan was beyond excited when I told her what had happened at lunchtime. I actually thought she might insist on walking home with me and Nico, but she satisfied herself with making me promise to fill her in later.

  ‘Everything,’ she said meaningfully as she left me beside the school gates. ‘I mean it.’

  I waved at her and then yelped as Nico’s arms snaked around me from behind. He kissed my neck. ‘I hope you’re not really going to tell her everything,’ he teased.

  ‘Unlikely,’ I said, wriggling out of his grasp. ‘But it depends on what you have to tell me.’

  He smiled. ‘She wouldn’t believe you.’

  His answer made me uneasy. Clearly something unusual had happened while he was away. We followed the crowd to the main road but as the majority of the kids turned towards the bus stops, Nico and I took one of the side streets. I quickened my pace a bit too. The route we were going would take us past the edge of Highgate Cemetery and that wasn’t a pleasant place for a psychic in the daytime, let alone when dusk was falling. I was avoiding Hornsey Lane Bridge, too; the last thing I needed was Isobel pumping me for information about Jeremy.

  There were still a few kids around so I opted for a safe topic. ‘So, how was Romania?’

  Nico sighed. ‘I went to a funeral. I didn’t say anything before, but there was a death in the clan, which was why we needed to go.’

  ‘Really?’ I asked, wondering why he hadn’t mentioned it the night he’d told me he was going away. I also wondered at the word ‘clan’. ‘Who died?’

  ‘It’s hard to explain. I suppose you could call him an uncle,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know him very well, but my dad did.’

  He didn’t seem upset, but I felt like I should offer some sympathy. ‘Sorry.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s OK. After all, it’s not like he’s really gone.’

  ‘Not everyone becomes a ghost, Nico.’ I stopped. ‘How did he die?’

  He took my hand and tugged at it until I started walking again. ‘It was a car accident. He crashed in the mountains.’

  ‘Most people pass across to the astral plane when they die. It’s only the ones with unfinished business who stay.’

  He smiled, but it didn’t make my heart flutter the way it usually did. This smile was cold. ‘It was very sudden, so I’d say he has unfinished business. Maybe he’ll come to see you.’

  This wasn’t the way I’d expected the conversation to go. I wanted to ask him who the Solomons were and why he hadn’t wanted to go back to Romania. Instead, I felt like he was mocking me. ‘It’s not some kind of joke,’ I said uncomfortably. ‘There are rules in the spirit world. Ghosts can’t just go anywhere they want to.’

  Squeezing my hand, he said, ‘I know it’s not a joke. Look, I’m not explaining very well. Let’s start again.’

  I studied him for a minute, then nodded. ‘OK.’

  His face split into a grin. ‘Excellent. Did I tell you how much I missed you?’

  ‘You didn’t text me, though.’

  Reaching into his blazer pocket, he waved his mobile at me. ‘No signal in the mountains. Sorry.’

  I could believe there wouldn’t be much mobile coverage in the wilds of the hills. ‘How much did you miss me?’

  ‘Loads,’ he replied. I thought he might kiss me but instead, he let go of my hand and looked around. ‘Hey, we’re almost at the cemetery. I’ve always wanted to take a look around. Up for it?’

  Er, how about no? Graveyards weren’t the hang-out of choice for good psychic girls like me. ‘It’s closing soon,’ I objected.

  He peered through the railings at an ivy-covered gravestone. ‘Nah, I’m sure I read somewhere that it’s open until five. Come on.’

  I glanced at my watch. It was four o’clock and the sky was already darkening. I shook my head. ‘I can’t, Nico.’

  He tugged on my hand. ‘Of course you can. Unless you’re scared?’

  I was. Cemeteries were full of restless spirits and not all of them were friendly to the living. But the conversation was only just beginning; there was more I wanted to know and we could hardly talk freely in the juice bar. ‘I don’t want to —’

  ‘Come on, Skye. Just a quick visit. In and out, I promise, and if we meet any ghosts, I’ll scare them away.’

  I let him pull me down the hill towards the entrance, trying to ignore my misgivings. The cemetery itself was split in two. The east cemetery was surrounded by iron fencing and open to the public on payment of a token fee towards upkeep of the ancient graves, but the west cemetery was enclosed in sturdy stone walls and kept securely locked. Jeremy had told me you could arrange a guided tour of the centuries-old tombs inside, but I’d shivered at the thought. Who knew what you might bump into?

  We turned through the ornate wrought-iron gates into the east cemetery and I waited in silent anxiety as Nico paid for us to go in, glancing past the ticket office to the green-laced paths beyond.

  ‘The gates close in an hour,’ the woman in the kiosk said as she tore two tickets from the grey roll and slid them across the desk. ‘Be back by quarter to five or you’ll be here for the night.’

  Nico winked at me and handed me one of the tickets. ‘Don’t worry about us, we’re too chicken to get locked in,’ he said.

  Forcing down a bad feeling, I followed him into the cemetery. It would be OK, I told myself through gritted teeth. The ghosts who lived there would have better things to do than torment an innocent psychic. Wouldn’t they?

  ‘Did you know Karl Marx is buried here?’ Nico turned to me, his eyes gleaming. ‘Hey, maybe you’ll see him. How cool would that be?’

  ‘On a scale of one to ten?’ I said, pretending to think about it. ‘Minus fifty. I doubt he’s still here, anyway. I told you, it’s only ghosts with unfinished business who stick around.’

  I shivered and wrapped my blazer more closely around myself. Dusk had brought a definite chill to the air and the long shadows made by the lamps weren’t doing anything to set my mind at rest. A tall marble angel loomed over us on our left and a crumbling mausoleum leaned precariously to the right. ‘Can we just see whatever it is you want to see and get out of here?’ I asked. ‘This place is seriously creeping me out.’

  Nico raised an eyebrow. ‘I’d have thought you’d be right at home here. Plenty of people to talk to.’

  Something skittered past in the tangle of green on the edge of my vision. I turned my head sharply but there was nothing there. ‘Let’s just say that some ghosts don’t like the living.’

  His teeth flashed in the fading daylight. ‘They’re the most interesting ones.’

  We arrived at a fork in the path. I glanced down one of the paths. It was brightly lit, but even so I wasn’t especially keen on going down it. The other one was dim and shadowy and looked about as uninviting as it was possible to look. A damp, rotting scent filled the air, the smell of decaying vegetation and musty earth. Nico threw me a sideways glance and grabbed my hand. ‘Ready to be spooked?’

  Before I could answer, he broke into a run, dragging me behind him down the left-hand fork.

  ‘No, Nico!’ I tried to pull my hand from his, but he tightened his grip.

  ‘Where’s your spirit of adventure, Skye?’ he called over his shoulder, flashing me a wicked grin as he twisted down another fork. ‘Ha ha – spirit. Get it?’

  Oh great, now he was doing stand-up. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. In fact, the way I felt at the moment, as soon as he stopped hauling me along he was going to be getting an almighty thump. ‘Stop,’ I begged, twisting my fingers desperately.

  I don’t know whether he heard the panic in my voice, but he slowed down. ‘You’re right,’ he said, his voice boun
cing off the jagged and worn headstones lining the path. ‘This place is seriously creepy. Have you seen any ghosts yet?’

  My breath misted in the chilly air as I caught my breath. Willing my pounding heart to slow, I took refuge behind sarcasm. ‘Oh yeah, that’s Jim Morrison over there, having a smoke with Kurt Cobain.’

  Nico grinned. ‘Kurt Cobain was cremated and Jim Morrison is buried in Paris. What would they be doing here?’

  A sound in the shadow-filled undergrowth behind us made me jump. ‘Trying to find their way out, if they had any sense.’ I turned pleading eyes on him. ‘Please can we go now?’

  He stared down at me, his eyes unreadable in the gloom. ‘We ’re not leaving until we’ve found a ghost.’

  ‘You’re joking.’ Even as I said it, I knew he wasn’t. There was something about his expression that told me he’d planned this all along. With a chilled wrench of my stomach, I realised he’d never had any intention of going back to the gates before closing time. Whatever had happened in Romania had changed him.

  He shook his head solemnly. ‘No, Skye, I’m not joking.’ He reached out to tuck a tendril of hair behind my ear. ‘You’re the most fascinating girl I’ve ever met. My dad’s been teaching me about the paranormal for as long as I can remember, but it all comes so easily to you. You’re a natural.’

  ‘What do you mean, a natural?’ I asked, even though I knew what he meant. Peering down at my watch, I struggled to make out the position of the hands.

  ‘Naturally psychic,’ he said. ‘You don’t need rituals like we do to speak to spirits.’

  Who did he mean by we? ‘Rituals?’ I asked.

  He nodded. ‘Ancient binding spells to summon the dead. He wants to meet you, by the way,’ Nico went on. ‘But I’m not sharing you with anyone. Not yet.’

  A shiver of uneasiness crawled over me. ‘Take me home, Nico. I’ll show you a ghost, if that’s what you want.’

  He threw me a disbelieving look. ‘Whatever.’

  ‘I mean it; my aunt’s house is haunted. We don’t have to hang out here.’ I shivered fearfully and glanced around, searching for signs of movement among the tangle of ivy and marble. There had to be ghosts here; it was only a matter of time before one found us.