“You can’t be all that bad.” Emily’s leg gave way, and she lurched to the side. Gregory’s arm came out to support her and they moved to sit. “That’s better.”
“You were saying?”
“Your stepmother is one of the rudest and most heartless people I’ve ever had the displeasure of spending time with. But when she talks about you, it’s with genuine affection.”
“Really?”
Emily nodded. “Looks like the sergeant’s about to head off.”
Sergeant Winchester hadn’t put handcuffs on Dr Attica but the grip he had on the man’s arm didn’t allow the doctor much leeway. He gave a nod to Emily before heading out the door and she supposed that was the best display of thanks she’d get.
“I don’t know what to do now,” Gregory said in a small voice. “If you get a chance, could you ask my mum if she has any ideas about what happens next?”
“What do you want to do?”
He shrugged. “I can’t imagine getting a decent job without a university degree. I’ve left it too late to enrol for this year, even if another school will have me.”
“Get a job.” Emily smiled to take the sting out of her words. “There’ll always be work available if you’re really looking. If you can’t get a paid job, try volunteering. Having experience along with whatever degree you’re planning will put you a step ahead when you graduate.”
Gregory nodded, his sad eyes travelling back and forward over the scene of devastation the poltergeist had wreaked. “I guess that makes sense.”
Emily put a hand on his shoulder. “How about, for tonight, you don’t worry about the future? Spend a bit of time with your dad and talk about what happened. It’ll take a bit to process but it’s best if you start in with that right away.”
“You want me to talk to my dad?” A ghost of a smile played upon the young man’s lips. “Somehow, I don’t think that will be a success.”
“Give it a try. He might surprise you.” Emily grunted as she stood. Another indignity of growing old that nobody had bothered to inform her about when she was young. “And if he doesn’t want to talk, know that Crystal and I will always be about if you need us.”
“Yeah?”
Emily nodded. “Yes.” She waved Crystal over to join them. “Now, I need to see what’s happening with your step mum.”
“Tell her I miss her.”
“I will.”
Together, Crystal and Emily mounted the stairs. Peanut trotted down the landing to greet them and Emily scooped him up into her arms. He stretched out a paw and caught a loop of beading on the side of Crystal’s dress. She turned at the resistance, touching a finger to Peanut’s paw.
“How strange. I can feel him.” A beam of delight lit up the medium’s face. “This is your cat companion, isn’t it? Right here.”
Emily nodded and transferred the whole of Peanut’s body into Crystal’s arms. A frightened expression flicked onto her face, then was gone. “My goodness. He actually holds some weight.”
“Perhaps you have more of a gift than you give yourself credit for,” Emily said, chucking the cat under the chin until Peanut’s eyes closed with pleasure. “I think he likes you.”
“That cat likes anybody,” Cynthia said, walking up behind Emily. “It’s been a very disappointing discovery to make when I thought he fancied me above all others.”
Peanut wriggled in Crystal’s arms, clambering awkwardly out of her grip and jumping over to Cynthia’s. The smile on his owner’s face was beatific.
“Do you feel any different?” Emily asked. “Now that you know what happened at the end?”
The ghost shrugged and screwed up her nose. “Not really. Apart from being glad that it wasn’t my family. I would’ve felt even worse if Nathaniel or Gregory had bumped me off.”
“I suppose I meant more in a metaphysical sense.”
“A meta-what-now?” Crystal asked.
“If you’re referring to the large pool of light currently in my bedroom, which is exerting a strong pull for me to walk towards it, then yes? I think my spirit is now able to move on and my soul is at peace or whatever else it means.” She held Peanut up to her nose and breathed in deeply.
Emily hadn’t smelled any odour when holding him but wondered if, as two ghosts, Cynthia found the same.
“Do you want to come and see me off?”
Emily nodded. Her throat was tighter than normal, and she found it hard to swallow. “That would be lovely.”
“What are we doing?” Crystal said, tugging on Emily’s sleeve as she followed Cynthia along the hallway.
“We’re going to escort Cynthia onto another plane of existence. Or something like that,” she hastened to add, realising she really had no idea.
“Fantastic!” Crystal beamed and clapped her hands together in excitement. When they walked into the master bedroom, her mouth dropped open in awe. “The light!”
“I really hope this doesn’t hurt,” Cynthia said, sounding more unsure than Emily had ever heard her.
“You can always jump back out,” she said in a firm voice. “It’s not like it’s a lake of burning fire.”
“As if you know.” Cynthia cuddled Peanut to her so tightly he gave a frustrated meow. “Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” Emily said, and a second later Crystal echoed the sentiment.
Cynthia straightened her back, took a deep breath, walked into the light…
And was gone.
“If I say so myself, that’s a job well done.” Crystal grabbed hold of Emily’s hand as the light faded away to show the unkempt bedroom. “Now, let's go down to the pub or something to celebrate. I’m not sure what the drink of choice is for sending a restless spirit off to her final resting place, but I’m betting it comes with bubbles.”
“I think that’s a fine idea,” Emily said, reaching out to grab her friend’s hand.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Emily slid a packet of cigarettes across the counter to Pete. “I don’t really wish to encourage your habit, but I wanted to get you something you’d enjoy, and this is the only thing I know for sure you like.”
Pete picked up the pack, turning it over to check the brand—almost entirely obscured by a close-up picture of a diseased mouth. “Thank you, I guess. What’s this about? You don’t need to buy my smokes when I can afford them myself.”
“I’m sorry about our fight the other day. It made me feel dreadful, and I didn’t want it hanging between us. I should’ve found a better way to broach the subject.”
Her co-worker pushed back from the counter, dragging a stool close enough to sit. When he glanced back up at her, his face was tinged with pink. “I’m the one should be apologising to you about that, I think.” He turned the cigarette packet over and over in his hands, flicking his thumb at the tab in the cellophane. “Your case workers called after you left that afternoon, while I was still upset. I told them a lot of stuff I’d normally keep to myself.”
“Yeah.” Emily gave a rueful grin. “If it makes you feel better, they already brought it up during our meeting and I survived.”
“And I was in the wrong as it turned out.”
“Neither of us knew that for sure at the time.”
“Hey, stop it.” Pete held up his hand. “I’m now trying to apologise to you. It just makes it harder when you’re so nice about everything.”
“It was easier for me to see the connection, is all I meant.” Emily leaned on the counter and flexed the back muscle in her leg. She couldn’t stand for much more than a few minutes without it trying to contract. “Sariah was just some woman I’d met for the first time. You had a relationship going back a few years.”
Pete nodded, his lips curled into a glum expression. “I really hate it when I see the best in people, and it turns out to be a sham.”
“It’s better to look for the best and be wrong than always assume other people are horrible.”
That raised a small smile. “Anyway, we got a large deposit of fun
ds into the charity account this morning, so I need to thank you for that. I’ll sort out the commission once the bank clears the payment and transfer it to you.”
Emily took a deep breath. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Why not? It’s yours. You earned it and more.”
“The caseworker meeting made it pretty clear I won’t be able to perform this work for much longer.”
Pete shook his head, jutting out his chin. “You don’t want to listen to those Debbie Downers.”
“Even if I last a few more years, I still need to have a backup plan in place.” Emily touched his hand. “It’s no good me having all the information then still being surprised when the time comes. I’d rather get something sorted out now.”
“So, you’re leaving?” Pete chewed on the edge of his bottom lip. “You only just got here.”
“I’m not leaving. Not until I can’t manage those stairs, at any rate. I just mean I need to sort out an alternate income, so the charity might as well benefit from the work I can do here in the meantime.” She glanced over her shoulder at the woman’s shelter signage on the door. “I have a few ideas on how to get a new gig going pretty quickly and until then, I’ve always got the compensation money going into the bank every month.”
“You’re sure?” Pete put the ciggies away in his jean pocket and leaned forward. “The organisation was pretty clear they’re happy to work on the commission structure because the time spent on auctioning the antiques we find, brings in more money overall.” He gave a short laugh. “Those boxes mostly just sit upstairs, otherwise. I don’t have time to go through them or the eye to know what they’re worth.”
“I’m happy to keep doing the work. The only reason I have an eye for it is antiquing was my hobby for years. If I can help out now with that skill, all the better. I figure it’s about time I put some good vibes out into the world, and this is the easiest way I know how.”
“If you change your mind…”
Emily nodded. “I’ll let you know if I need the money. I’m not about to starve myself or get turfed out of a home.” She tapped her fingers on the counter. “Actually, there is something I want to do out of the funds coming through today if you don’t mind.”
“Of course, not.” Pete stood up again, moving over to the computer when Emily’s eyes flicked its way.
“It might sound a bit strange, but I’d like to buy a Magnolia tree for somebody. A woman I know planted one in her son’s memory then lost it through a gardening… Um… Misadventure.”
“Tell me the address and you can consider it done.”
While Emily was reciting Mabel Thistledrop’s address, the bell over the door tinkled and Gregory walked inside the store.
“I thought about what you said last night, and I think you’re right,” he said to Emily.
She’d said and done so much in the last day, it took her a moment to work out to which statement he was referring. “You’re volunteering?”
“If you’ll have me.” Gregory looked suddenly unsure, eyes flicking between Emily and Pete. “I not only got kicked out of school with the drug thing, but I also got fired from my last job. Will that stop me?”
Pete gave the young man one of his broadest, gap-toothed grins. “Not on your life. We believe strongly in second chances here, mate. That’s why everything here is second-hand.”
At midday, Gregory walked Emily along to the Honeysuckle Café. She had made an appointment for lunch with Crystal the night before and hoped she hadn’t been too far into her cups to remember. The medium really liked a drink.
“You can tell me to mind my own business,” Emily began.
Gregory gave a groan and a laugh. “That’s an ominous way to start a conversation.”
“Sorry. I just wondered how you got involved with the prescription drugs. It doesn’t seem to fit with your personality.”
“It was all the fault of a car,” Gregory said. “At least, that’s the inanimate object I’ve chosen to lay all the blame upon. There was an old yellow VW bug that I desperately wanted to buy when I was at Uni. It fitted perfectly with the persona I was trying to establish.”
Emily remembered well how much thinking had gone into the personality she displayed to the other students in her own university days. It might have been more decades ago than she liked to remember, but the intense desire to establish herself as an individual still shone bright.
“And your dad didn’t want to fund it?” she asked, guessing what was coming.
“No, he didn’t. He kept pointing out that the reason he paid money into my Metrocard was because the buses in Christchurch were easy to use and plentiful.”
They waited at a pedestrian crossing for a break in the traffic. “It still seems a leap, to go from wanting a car to dealing drugs on campus.”
“It wasn’t my idea. Some other students had mentioned they used Ritalin to study. I thought it was worth a shot asking Dr Attica when I had a check-up. Neither Mum nor Dad used him, so it wasn’t like he’d go telling tales. I assumed he’d just send me packing and warn me of the dangers of misusing pills, but he gave me a script and told me he’d cut me a commission if I brought in more students.”
“My goodness.” Emily shook her head. “It’s hard to believe he’d be that careless.”
“It wasn’t like I’d gone to him with clean hands,” Gregory said with a shrug. “The terms I used might have been different, but I basically asked him to sell me drugs. If he’d gone to the police, it might never have turned into charges but it sure would have got me into strife at home.”
“And what happened when he was caught out?”
“Dad wouldn’t buy me a car, but he bought me out of trouble quick enough. I think he paid the doctor to formulate some dodgy story and Dr Attica took advantage because he faced even worse penalties than me.”
“And Hilda listened in to all of it,” Emily said in a low tone as they reached the café.
“I guess so. She was always there, so she must have heard a lot of things we probably shouldn’t have discussed in front of her. It’s funny how I’d never talk about stuff like this in front of a stranger but…”
Gregory shrugged and Emily nodded. But an old woman just fades into the woodwork. After a while, it’s like they’re not even there.
“Did you want to join me and Crystal for lunch?” Emily held open the café door.
The young man shook his head. “No. I’ll pick something up from the tea rooms on the way back. I just wanted to make sure you got here okay.”
He walked away, whistling as he swung his arms in time to his lazy stride. Emily shook her head, feeling older than her years. A nice gesture but, boy did it hurt to be reminded she struggled to walk down the street on her own.
Crystal was seated inside and waved to Emily as she walked into the room. Large windows overlooked the main road with its constant run of traffic. Opposite, a car park outside the tea rooms had a man in a truck splitting his sandwich with a dog seated on the roof.
The medium followed Emily’s gaze and laughed. “I sure hope he remembers his friend’s perched up there when he takes off.”
“I’ve been thinking,” Emily said later, as their meals arrived.
“Sounds dangerous.”
“Would you like to go into business together?”
The pause and scrutiny that followed made Emily want to shrink into a tiny ball. But she was done with not being seen. She had a gift, a limited timeframe during which she might be able to use it, and a desire to do some good in the world.
She straightened her back and met Crystal’s gaze. “It’s okay to say if you don’t want a partner. I know you’ve built up your business from scratch by yourself and bring a lot more to the table than I do.”
“Yes.”
“If you want to think about it, that’s okay, too.”
“I said, yes. Let’s do it.”
“Really?” Emily sat back in her chair, unable to stop a wide smile from blooming on her face
. “You’re interested.”
“Interested. Agreed. Sold.” Crystal framed a headline with her hands. “I can see the ads now. Ghost seer and solver of cold case murders.”
“I hardly think Cynthia was a cold case. They hadn’t even got around to putting up her headstone, she was that fresh.”
“If her body was buried, and the police had closed the case, I’m calling it.”
Emily poked at her salad, spearing a cherry tomato on her fork. “Are you sure people won’t just laugh at us?”
“Not at all. They laugh at me all the time, and I’ve survived so far. Besides, there’s a bloke down the road at Pinetar Beach who's hung out his shingle as a wizard for hire. If he can do that, I’m sure we’ll be fine to get our operation off the ground.”
They continued to talk as they finished off their meals. By the time Emily walked back into the charity shop, she was flushed with excitement at the possibilities.
Walking up the path to her front door that evening, she wondered how it would be the first time somebody openly laughed at what she was doing. A jolt of anxiety spiked up her back, then Emily shook her head.
“It can’t be any worse than when the police laughed in my face,” she whispered.
True enough. Her smile was back in place as she walked through to the lounge… and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Peanut?”
The cat lay curled on the cushion where Emily most liked to sit. His sides moved up and down with the rhythm of his breathing. At first glance, he appeared so much like his live self that she clutched a hand to her chest. Then, she saw the way his tail disappeared into the throw cushion.
Ghost cat.
The perfect pet for somebody who might soon struggle to look after herself, let alone another living being.
With cautious movements, Emily sat on the sofa and reached out to stroke Peanut’s head. The faintest sensation of touch—a ghostly echo of the real thing—ran through her hand. After a moment, the cat yawned and looked sleepily at his new mistress.
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