Tamsyn Murray-Afterlife 01 My So-Called Afterlife (7 page)

The thought of Hep launching herself at Princess Perfect cheered me up a bit. I hadn’t checked my phone. There was probably a gleeful text waiting for me. ‘Remind me to thank her next time I see her.’

Encouraged by my response, Jeremy went on. ‘The boy you were talking to gave her hell, too.’

I closed my eyes. I’d been trying not to think about Ryan. We’d hit it off so well; he couldn’t have just felt sorry for me. Embarrassment rose up in a hot wave. I couldn’t fool myself. There’d been truth in Kimberly’s words, it had been written all over Ryan’s face. And now that I knew I’d only been a pity case, I’d never be able to look him in the eye again. My own eyes snapped open. Wait one second . . . how on earth could Jeremy have known what happened after I headed off to the party?

‘Before you ask, no, I didn’t see any other ghosts. I met one of the psychics from the Dearly Departed as I left the party and she told me. Apparently, one of them goes along to these events to help set up and make sure no one else living goes poking around.’

I hadn’t noticed any other living people there, but I’d
been blinkered by the love goggles. A giant pineapple could have been dancing the night away and I wouldn’t have seen it.

‘It was horrible, since you ask. I think I threw up.’

Crossing to where I sat, Jeremy squatted beside me. ‘Are you up to a visitor? The psychic from the church said someone wanted to tag along and see you.’

A reluctant smile tugged at my mouth. ‘Hep?’

He shrugged. ‘Don’t ask me. As far as I’m concerned there’s no one up there except the homeless guy who sleeps in the doorway of the Tommy Hilfiger shop.’

It had to be Hep. I didn’t really know any other ghosts. ‘Send her down, then. I’d go myself, but the floor sways when I stand up.’

Minutes later, he was back with my visitor in tow. Surprise, surprise, it wasn’t Hepzibah. I groaned silently. As if my night hadn’t been humiliating enough, I had to face the last person I wanted to see my unglamorous home; Ryan was following Jeremy down the stairs to my dimly lit lair. Jeremy hovered by the steps, unsure what to do.

‘Hi.’ Ryan’s voice echoed softly around the tiled walls as he neared me. ‘How are you doing?’

I raised my shoulders listlessly. ‘I’ve been better.’

He looked down at his trainers. ‘I’m sorry about Kimberly. I don’t know why she did what she did.’

Oh
please
. A five-year-old could figure out what Kimberly’s problem was. I opened my mouth to tell him so. He beat me to it. ‘Actually, I do. I’ve known for a while she
was . . . er . . . interested in me. I suppose she saw how well we were getting on this evening and got jealous.’

‘It doesn’t make it OK.’

He sighed. ‘No, but try not to be too hard on her. She’s got problems.’

I stared at him incredulously. Kimberly had done what had to be the worst thing one ghost can do to another, and he expected me to cut her some slack because she had
problems
?

‘Here’s some breaking news, Ryan. We’re stuck in spiritual limbo here. We all have problems.’

His blue eyes met mine. ‘I know. That’s what I do – try to help ghosts solve some of them. I’m not bad at it.’

‘What are you, some kind of unofficial celestial social worker?’

He smiled. ‘Kind of. I welcome the newly dead and help them pass on any messages to the living. The goal is to get them to move on, make them realise they don’t have to stick around.’

I frowned. There were questions I wanted to ask, but they’d have to wait. ‘Do the world a favour – move Kimberly on faster.’

‘Deal.’ His mischievous expression dissolved as he fixed me with a serious look. ‘She was wrong, anyway. I wasn’t talking to you because I felt sorry for you or because I had to.’

Jeremy cleared his throat uncomfortably. ‘Are you going to be all right, Lucy? I wouldn’t mind getting some sleep.’

Eek, I’d almost forgotten he was there. It had to be weird for him, watching me have a one-sided conversation with thin air, but then strange had become an everyday thing for Jeremy since he’d met me. I was just glad I hadn’t said anything embarrassing. ‘I’ll be fine. Thanks for coming to check on me.’

Nodding, he said, ‘I’ll drop in tomorrow.’ His gaze darted around the room. ‘Bye, Ryan. Nice to . . . er . . . meet you.’

‘Good to meet you too.’

‘He said your trousers are too short,’ I supplied.

Startled, Jeremy looked down. ‘Really?’

‘No,’ I grinned. ‘Go home.’

And then it was just the two of us. Ryan settled down on the floor next to me and didn’t even flinch at the puddles.

‘Welcome to my place,’ I said to fill the silence, waving an arm around. ‘Do you like what I’ve done with it?’

‘At least you’ve got a roof over your head,’ he replied, taking in the view. ‘Actually, it’s not that different from mine. Same smell, but there’s no way to flush.’

I didn’t answer immediately, unsure how to phrase the question I wanted to ask. It reminded me of the first time I’d gone swimming without my mum. I hadn’t been sure of the best way to get into the pool; the steps were for babies. Eventually, I’d decided to plunge in at the deep end. ‘Hep said you died in a car crash. Are you a homeless ghost, then?’

He grinned. ‘Kind of. My dad and I crashed on the dual carriageway, so I don’t have a building to haunt like you, but
I’m tied to the place all the same. You might have seen the flowers when you came to the party.’

‘What happened to your dad?’

The grin faded. ‘He’s been in a coma since the accident. I don’t see him much.’ A melancholy expression crossed his face. ‘I miss him. He was the one who taught me to play guitar.’

He looked so vulnerable, I wanted to reach out and touch him. ‘He did a great job.’

Ryan nodded absently. ‘My mum spends most of her time at the hospital, hoping he’ll get better. Meanwhile, he’s stuck in an even worse situation than us. I wish there was something I could do. At least if he was a ghost I could help him move on.’

I hadn’t realised there was anything worse than being dead. My throat ached with sympathy. As well as being the most gorgeous ghost ever to walk the earth, Ryan was a genuinely nice person. I wanted to hug him. Actually, I wanted to snog his face off, but that was going to have to wait. Right now, it was enough to sit and talk.

‘What about you? When are you going to move on?’

‘I suppose I’ll know when the time is right.’ He scuffed one worn trainer against the other. ‘In the meantime, we have some unfinished business. Usually, I know as soon as I meet someone. You’re different.’

My stomach flipped. ‘What do you mean?’

He studied me soberly for a moment, then shook his head. ‘Nope, you’ll have to put me out of my misery.’ He
tilted his face to one side. ‘Marmite. Love it or hate it?’

I laughed out loud. ‘Love it, of course.’

He looked delighted. ‘Excellent news. I couldn’t go out with a girl who didn’t like Marmite.’

Oh flippity-flip, now my stomach was doing a full Olympic gymnastic routine. Had he really said what I thought he had? ‘You haven’t asked me yet.’

Blue eyes darkening as they met mine, Ryan nodded. ‘I’m getting to that part. Lucy, will you go out with me?’

I thought about what my mates would say if they could see me now. Yuk, probably. But they’d also be advising me to play it cool, be an ice princess and make him wait. I looked at his tanned face, remembering how I’d felt when he’d sung to me earlier. He was one in a million. There was no way I was letting him get away.

‘You’d have to promise never to play R’n’B in my presence.’

He held up a hand. ‘Scout’s honour. You do know I was kidding about that?’

I hadn’t. The nose flute had been an obvious joke, but plenty of guys had been into dubious music at school. It was a massive relief that Ryan wasn’t like them.

‘Correct answer,’ I said cheerfully. ‘Congratulations. You’ve just won tonight’s star prize – a date with Lucy Shaw.’

‘Great.’ He smiled back at me. ‘Deciding to throw that party was the best decision I ever made.’

After he’d gone, I considered the evening. Getting sucked back to the toilet was something I never wanted to
experience again, and I made a mental note to make sure I spent at least a few hours at home every day. I prodded my feelings some more. In spite of being stuck underground with only a dripping tap for company, I was the happiest I’d been for ages. Picturing Ryan’s gorgeously dimpled smile, a grin of pure pleasure crept over my face. The afterlife had just got a whole lot more interesting.

‘We need to talk,’ Jeremy announced as he delivered a fresh batch of reading material a few days after the party.

I didn’t look at him. Ryan had suggested we go to the cinema, and I was scanning the local paper trying to find the perfect date film. It was harder than I thought.

‘I’ve been doing some research, and I think I’ve discovered something about your murderer.’

My head jerked up, a sick feeling washing over me. ‘What?’

‘After I spoke to the psychic from the Dearly Departed, I spent a few hours surfing the internet looking for clues. I found some disturbing things.’ His eyes rested seriously on my face. ‘I don’t think you were his first victim. There are others. I think he’s tried it before.’

I shivered. Jeremy kept harping on about helping me to cross over, but if it meant reliving the dark night of my murder over and over again, I wasn’t sure I was ready. Besides, things were pretty rosy in my garden at the moment. It wasn’t perfect but, after a blissful first date at the Science Museum with Ryan, it felt as though things were just starting to go right for me again. As much as I hated living in a toilet, I didn’t want to move on if it meant I lost the new friends I’d gained.

‘Maybe we shouldn’t start this.’ I knew it wasn’t what Jeremy wanted to hear. ‘If the police couldn’t catch my killer what chance do we have? I don’t know if I even remember what he looked like.’

Jeremy seemed to have been expecting my reluctance. ‘It isn’t going to be easy, but what choice do we have?’ His face softened. ‘You can’t hang around here forever.’

How could I explain that I wasn’t sure I wanted to go? All Jeremy saw was what I’d lost by dying. He didn’t understand that this shadowy existence was better than none at all, that maybe I’d found something I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I seized at the nearest excuse to put him off. ‘I don’t have time for this now – Ryan will be here soon.’

Eyes resting on mine, he wasn’t letting it go. ‘Maybe if you could give me a few details, they might help me to join up the dots?’

I didn’t want to. The part of me which had helped me cope with the aching loss of my family was telling me to leave the past alone. Something in Jeremy’s insistent gaze,
though, wouldn’t allow me to run away. Reluctantly, I forced myself to remember.

‘I was on my way home from a really crappy party, about eleven-thirty. My best mate was supposed to come with me, but she’d got stupid chickenpox and couldn’t go, so like an idiot, I went on my own. Anyway, the party sucked and I decided to cut my losses. I promised my dad I’d get a taxi home, but it was a really long wait so I thought I’d walk.’ My voice cracked to barely a whisper as the memories started to flow. ‘The streets were quiet. Everyone was still partying, I guess.’

Jeremy nodded encouragingly. ‘Then what happened?’

My chest heaved and I could almost taste the fear again. ‘I could see someone watching me all the way along Carnaby Street. When I reached the loos he called out to me. He said he’d heard an animal crying in the toilet and thought some boys had been tormenting a puppy down there. He asked if I’d go down and check on it while he called the RSPCA.’ Even in the depths of my worst nightmare, I managed a half-hearted snort. ‘Like anyone would be dumb enough to fall for that. Anyway, he must have seen me turning away, because the next thing I knew, he’d hooked an arm around my throat and whispered that he had a knife. Once he’d dragged me down the stairs there was nothing I could do.’ I lowered my head into my hands, misery pooling in my stomach. ‘I couldn’t get away, and it hurt so much.’

Jeremy’s expression was wretched as he watched me
struggle not to cry. ‘It’s OK. That’s enough for now.’ He fiddled with his jacket while I composed myself. ‘I’m going to keep digging, see what I can find out.’ He stared at me, serious and worried-looking. ‘We could be dealing with a serial killer. If I’m right, this man probably plans to kill again.’

The words dragged me down after he’d gone. Apart from the details I’d shared, I’d purposefully blocked out most of what happened the night I died. There’d been no point in going over it again and again on my own. But if my killer was out there deciding on his next victim, could I really sit back and let it happen? Didn’t I have a duty to put a stop to his murderous ways? I forced the thought to the back of my mind. Finding him could cost me my newfound happiness. It wasn’t a chance I wanted to take.

‘Hep, can I ask you something?’

We were sitting on her old bedroom floor, practising flicking the Blu-tack from her posters at the wastepaper bin. So far, she was winning, but my aim was improving.

‘Depends on the question.’

I tossed my gaze skywards. She could be so moody sometimes. ‘Have you ever kissed another ghost?’

Her shot pinged off the window. She turned to stare at me. ‘No. Don’t you think I’ve got enough issues without adding romantic angst into the mix?’

She had a point. ‘Suppose so. If you were going to, though, how would you do it?’

‘Let me guess. We’re talking about Ryan the Love God here, right?’

Move over Einstein, there’s a new genius in town. ‘I wasn’t thinking of Gawjus George,’ I said, referring to the dribbling old ghost who had taken a bit of a shine to me over at the Dearly D.

She shrugged and resumed her flicking. ‘I suppose it’s possible. It’s only physical objects we have trouble touching, not ghostly ones. I’m not sure how satisfying a snog-fest would be, though. It can’t be the same can it, without real lips?’

It had me worried too. After my trip to the cinema with Ryan, I’d had the distinct impression that we both wanted to take things a step further, but neither of us knew how. It was hard enough working out the right time to kiss someone for the first time without all the added complications of being dead. In the end, we’d settled for some deeply unsatisfactory arm touching and smiling at each other wistfully. Then he’d watched as I’d made my solitary way down the steps to my loo. It had to be up there as one of the most disappointing ends to a date in the history of the universe.