Dead Gorgeous (6 page)

Do.

My brother is the artistic one, the sensitive one, the articulate one. Me? I’m Conan the Barbarian compared to him. I know that’s how I’m considered. And you know what, I
don’t care. I can look after myself. No one ever asked me to be artistic or poetic. A couple of silly pranks at school and that was it – my card was marked. They were never going to
give me a chance after that. Never in a million years. I was even sent for a test – what they called a psychological evaluation. Dad hit the roof, of course. Until it became clear that I
wasn’t a moron, or even average. The tests showed I had a well-above-average IQ. That shocked everyone. Even me, to be honest. I’d spent so long listening to everyone tell me how
useless I was that even I’d started to believe it. My IQ rating is the only reason they didn’t kick me out of school, I reckon. But after the test, I really let rip. I was untouchable.
I was invincible. And some of the things I got up to . . . Silly, hurtful things. Not that I’m making excuses. But taking the test and everyone’s reaction to it did something to me. I
realized that before the results, nothing was expected from me. No talent, no hard work, no commitment, no brains, no sense, no ambitions – nothing. So I decided that if everyone expected
nothing, that was precisely what they were going to get.

I don’t walk all over people. But I don’t let them walk all over me either.

Poor Josh! Being lumbered with a brother like me. I tease him and wind him up something chronic, and he still adores me. Silly beggar! My friends call him the lapdog – even to his face
‘cos of the way he follows me around. I can’t change direction without tripping over him first. Josh, the anchor. Josh, the chain. Josh, the lapdog. Josh, the pain. Josh, my brother.
Josh, the one thing in this world I really care about.

Sometimes . . . sometimes I feel like I want to just demolish things because there’s so much inside me that I want to say and do but I can’t get it out. I want to make things,
build things. I want to climb. I want to fly. But my brother keeps me tethered to the ground. So I smash things instead.

‘Take me with you.’

How can I, when because of you, I never leave? Take you where? Take you to nowhere. Take you to nothing. You don’t need me, Josh. Sooner or later, you’ll fly on your own. And
I’ll be stuck here, down on the ground, watching you fly. And hating you. I don’t want to hate you. You’re my brother. I care about you.

But I’m afraid. You scare me, Josh.

Where am I?

Jeez! Manor Hotel. Have I really walked that Jar? Manor Hotel used to be the Manor House, owned a couple of centuries before by Count whoever or Lord someone-or-other. It was converted into a
hotel about thirty years ago, though, passing from one person to another, none of whom seemed to want it. The last owner (a woman, I think) closed it down over nine years ago and it has stood empty
ever since.

But I love this place. It’s derelict and practically Jailing down, but it’s such an excellent place to hang out. Me and my friends used to run riot around here. Breaking windows.
Spray painting the walls. Making our mark. It was our hide-out. A home away from home. I haven’t been over this way in months though. Who put all this wire-mesh fencing up? It’s too
high to get over. I’ll go round. Hopefully the original wire fence at the back is still there and they haven’t replaced it. That was always our way in – the gap in the wire
security Jence over by the gardens. Gardens! The polite way to put it! They looked more like an overgrown wasteland than anything else. But there’s something about this place, set on the
sloping cliff top, with the sea before it and the so-called gardens behind. What I didn’t tell my mates was that sometimes, when things got really bad at home, I’d come up here by
myself and just wander around and explore. It was somewhere to be away from things. To escape. Manor Hotel. I haven’t been up here for months. I can’t believe I haven’t been up
here for months. Maybe that’s why I feel so stressed.

Oh please! Look at that! What a useless sign! Is that really meant to put anyone off?

How about if I stay here? Just for one night. It’ll do Dad good to think I really have gone. And as for Josh . . . he’ll survive without me for one night. Just one night. Manor
Hotel is a bit of a wreck but I’ll find somewhere warm and dry. I know this place like the back of my hand. Don’t worry, Josh, I’ll see you tomorrow. I just can’t face going
back home tonight, that’s all. One night won’t hurt. One night won’t hurt anyone.

I’ll see you tomorrow, Josh.

This sucks!

It’s not fair!

What am I going to wear? I need some new clothes. This top is so five minutes ago! I hate my life. Look at the state of my hair. Look at the state of me. I need something to wear for tonight.
Something to knock Andrew’s eyes out. Something to convince him that I’m the girl of his daydreams. A fantasy girl! Yeah, I like the sound of that. So what should I wear? This may be
the back of beyond but that’s no reason to go around looking like something the dog dug up – or threw up.

I wonder if I can get Mum or Dad to cough up for a new outfit. Not that I’d get much round here. I’d need to go to the city to get some really decent gear. And that’s not going
to happen in the next couple of hours, is it? Maybe with some carefully applied make-up I can take the focus off my outfit. I wouldn’t have to do any of this if we lived somewhere with a
couple of decent clothes shops.

It’s not fair.

This sucks!

‘If you’re going to scream again, could you warn me first? My ears are still ringing,’ said Liam.

A long, long pause.

‘Well, aren’t you coming in?’

Nova stood right where she was.

‘You’re not afraid, are you?’ Liam asked, amused.

Nova visibly bristled at that. She took a deep breath and walked into the room.

‘Are you going to scream again?’ asked Liam.

Nova slowly shook her head.

Silence. More silence!

‘Are you just going to stare at me all year or will you be speaking some time soon?’

Nova shook her head, then blinked hard. She still couldn’t believe it. Here she was, standing in the middle of her bedroom – and there was an actual ghost sitting on her bed. Nova
moved forward and waved her left hand in front of Liam’s face. She leaned forward and waved her hand right through his head. Jumping back like a scalded cat, she continued to stare at him.
Taking another step forward, she waved her hand through Liam’s head again. It didn’t feel any different to normal air. Slightly cooler perhaps, or maybe that was just her imagination.
Nova drank in the sight of Liam. He was really there, wasn’t he? She wasn’t cracking up, was she? If she was, she’d conjured up a dead good-looking guy. He had the warmest,
clearest brown eyes she’d ever seen. He was almost as tall as her dad and that was saying something. Nova waved her hand through his head once more.

‘You really
are
a ghost, aren’t you?’ she whispered. ‘A real, live ghost!’

‘The pleasure is all yours,’ Liam said.

‘A real, live ghost in my room,’ said Nova. ‘What tricks can you do, apart from fading and walking through people, that is? Can you make yourself invisible and move things? Can
you change into different animals? Can you shoot fire out of your eyes and fly around the hotel?’

‘I’m a ghost, not a mutant X-man.’ Liam frowned.

Nova sat down next to him. ‘So, is that it then? Can you only fade out and walk through people and objects? Big deal!’

‘You were very impressed less than ten minutes ago!’ Liam pointed out.

‘That was then, and this is now. Well? Can’t you do anything else?’

‘How about I tell you what you can do instead?’

‘All right! All right! Only asking,’ said Nova.

But her mind was fired up with possibilities. Liam might just be the answer to a prayer. A hotel with a real, live ghost. Guests would definitely flock to see that – and they’d pay
through the nose and ears for it too. OK, so five minutes ago the guests in reception hadn’t seemed too keen on the idea of a ghost in the hotel. But Nova hadn’t handled that right. If
Liam could appear on cue – and disappear, of course – then the guests would know what to expect and wouldn’t be afraid. They’d just be . . . thrilled! She’d have to
get Liam to appear to her mum and dad. Wait till she told them her plans! Things were definitely looking brighter.

‘Hang on! If you’re a ghost, how come I bumped into you in the garden?’

Liam turned his head and looked almost embarrassed.

Nova waved her hand through his body again. ‘Can you make yourself real any time you like then?’

‘I’m already real.’ Liam frowned. ‘I’m just a ghost, that’s all.’

‘Why can’t I touch you now then?’

‘Because, if you must know, Miss Eve stresses me out,’ Liam admitted. ‘And when I get in a stress, or I get angry or upset I seem to become “real” again – to
use your word.’

‘Real?’

‘Solid. I can touch things and pick up things and others can see me and touch me. But it only lasts for a few minutes at most. And afterwards, I’m totally wiped out.’

‘Can Miss Eve see you too?’

‘No. At least, I don’t think so,’ said Liam.

‘Why does she stress you out?’

Liam shook his head. ‘There’s something about her . . .’

‘What?’

‘I can’t explain it. She makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.’

How strange! That was exactly how Nova felt about Miss Eve as well.

‘What about Miss Dawn?’

‘There’s something about her too, but she doesn’t freak me out,’ Liam admitted. ‘At least, not in the same way as Miss Eve.’

‘How come Mum and Dad have never seen you?’

‘I told you. I can only materialize if I get upset or something.’

‘You mean – emotional!’ amended Nova.

‘I mean upset or something,’ Liam corrected briskly. ‘And I like to keep myself to myself. Anyway, I don’t want your family and the others in this place gawping at me.
I’m not some kind of freaky sideshow.’

‘No, of course not,’ Nova said, hoping he hadn’t guessed the plans she’d been busy making in her head. She’d have to pick the right moment to try and persuade him
to give her plan a try.

She reached out a tentative finger to prod Liam. Her finger passed straight through him, like moving into the cool space in an empty fridge. ‘A real, live ghost!’ She drew back her
hand, before jabbing it forward once more to prod him. She didn’t know what she was expecting. Was she hoping to catch him off guard and find he was solid after all? Nova tried poking him
once more.

‘Could you stop doing that?’

‘Why? You can’t feel it.’

‘It’s still irritating!’

‘Are you still feeling stressed then? How come I can still see you?’

‘Actually, I was wondering that myself. I’m back to normal now. At least, I feel the way I always feel, so you shouldn’t be able to see me,’ said Liam, scrutinizing Nova.
‘Have you ever seen a ghost before?’

‘Not as far as I know,’ said Nova.

‘You must be more sensitive than most to ghosts. And now you’ve seen me, it’s like you can’t stop seeing me – if you see what I mean!’

Nova nodded, adding, ‘You could’ve warned me that you were a ghost. Dad thinks I’ve lost my marbles.’

‘I didn’t know you’d freak like that.’

‘How did you expect me to react? You walked straight through my dad!’

‘It didn’t hurt him, did it? So what’s the problem?’

‘You scared me,’ Nova admitted.

‘But you’re not scared any more, are you?’ asked Liam.

Nova considered, then shook her head. Liam looked harmless enough. A bit smarmy and full of himself, but then he was a boy, and a teenage boy at that – so what else was new! But he was
strange looking though – mainly because he wasn’t strange looking! He didn’t float centimetres above the ground or carry his head under his arm. He wasn’t dressed in a
dazzling white suit, nor was there a glow or an aura around him. In fact, for a ghost he was a bit of a disappointment. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a matching blue-buttoned shirt. His
trainers were grubby in places and of an old double-striped design. But even so . . .

‘Can I ask you a question?’ said Nova.

‘Was that it?’

‘No.’

‘Go on then!’

‘I’ve always wondered something about you ghosts,’ Nova said, her brows creased. ‘How come you can walk though walls and pass through objects and yet you can still walk
on a floor without passing straight through it?’

Liam stared at her in disbelief. ‘Because I just can.’

‘That’s not an answer.’

‘It’s the only one I can give you,’ said Liam. ‘It’s like asking a bird how come it can fly or a fish how come it can swim. ‘Cos it just can – and
it’s the same with me.’

‘Well, that doesn’t really explain much,’ Nova said, disappointed.

‘I can’t help that,’ Liam said dryly. He sat in silence as Nova regarded him for a long while. ‘You’ll know me the next time you see me, won’t you!’ he
said at last, clearly irritated.

‘How long have you been . . . here?’ Nova was going to ask how long he’d been a ghost but somehow it didn’t seem quite right. At least, not yet.

‘No idea. I think it’s been quite a while but it could be a month, could be a year. I don’t know.’

‘Why not?’

‘Time doesn’t pass the same way for me as it does for you,’ said Liam. ‘It goes a lot more slowly.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said Nova. She didn’t really but she let it pass. She sat watching him for a while longer. ‘How did you . . . er, come to be here?’