I Am Dust

by Louise Beech

  Does she? Yes. She does.

  ‘But stay a while,’ says Morgan. ‘The stage is all ours here. Out there we can perform whenever we want to. I’ve been waiting so long to have you sing with me too.’

  ‘I’m not going yet,’ says Chloe softly. ‘I need to say goodbye first. I need to wait for them to call to me…’

  60

  The Dean Wilson Theatre

  February 2021

  ‘Are you there, Chloe? Will you come and talk to us?’

  When she hears the words – like a favourite song playing after a long time – Chloe knows who it is. Morgan disappears from her side and Chloe is in the dressing room still, but it’s the one she saw in the mirror earlier. The one with her silver-and-blue She Haunts Me poster on the wall, and the abundance of vibrant flowers brightening the white walls. Chloe turns away from the glass. From her reflection. From the lights. Her heart swells.

  She is there.

  Ginger, Ryan and Chester are sitting in a circle.

  In the centre is an upturned glass; surrounding it is the familiar sight of printed letters on small pieces of paper, and the words ‘Hello’, ‘Goodbye’, ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. The three of them have one finger on the glass. Ginger’s nails are pearly pink and take Chloe back to the dusty stage at the youth theatre.

  ‘If you’re here, Chloe, please talk to us.’

  It’s Ryan. Like it always was.

  ‘She probably won’t want to talk to you,’ says Chester, lowering his eyelids in disdain at Ginger. ‘If the poor girl is here, she’ll bugger off once she sees it’s you. That’s if this even works.’

  ‘It will,’ says Ginger softly.

  ‘I only agreed cos you’re hot.’ Chester looks at Ryan. ‘Your new show’s not bad either.’

  ‘If we’re gonna do this, we have to get on with it,’ says Ryan, suppressing a smile. ‘If we get caught in here, we’ll be in the shit. Now we’re all at the New Theatre this is breaking and entering.’

  ‘We had to do it here,’ says Ginger. ‘Thank God they haven’t changed the door codes.’

  ‘I’m still not entirely sure,’ admits Ryan, and takes his finger off the glass.

  ‘Put it back on!’ cries Ginger.

  ‘The Ouija board is what started it all.’ He sounds like the teen boy again. ‘I think you’ve forgotten what happened to my friend Daniel.’

  ‘I haven’t.’ Ginger looks as pale as the dressing-room wall.

  ‘What happened to Daniel?’ asks Chester, taking his finger away too.

  No one speaks.

  ‘He died,’ says Chloe, but no one looks her way. ‘But I don’t think we can ever really blame the Ouija board. It’s our own flaws and failings that led us all to this moment.’

  With so much endless time to think, Chloe has realised Morgan is right. That troubled teenagers have no place playing with something they don’t yet understand. Because the power lies within them, the ones who begin the game. After all a Ouija board is just an empty glass and pieces of paper without them. But as to why some suffer more afterwards, the answer to that is as much a mystery as any, and even with all the time in the world now, Chloe has no answer for it.

  ‘OK, don’t tell me,’ snaps Chester. ‘But tell me this – Chloe’s been gone nearly eighteen months, so why tonight?’

  Ginger glances at the She Haunts Me poster. ‘I know she’ll be here for her opening night. So put your fingers back on the glass.’

  Ryan inhales deeply; and does. Chester follows.

  ‘Her show was so fucking good,’ says Chester. ‘I cried my eyes out at the end. Wish I still worked here so I could see it every night. I’ll be coming again.’ He pauses. ‘Still not sure why you asked me to do this with you?’

  Ryan looks at Ginger. ‘When we realised you were here tonight,’ she says, ‘we thought we should just ask. It made sense. Three is supposed to be best, you see. We were going to do it anyway. Chloe was fond of you. If she hates me, she might at least come to talk to you. And then I can—’

  ‘Let’s just do it,’ interrupts Ryan. ‘Chloe, if you’re here, please make yourself known to us.’

  Chloe stands up and moves closer to them. ‘I’m here,’ she says.

  No one responds. Of course. She’s here, but not there.

  Then Ginger frowns. ‘Fuck,’ she whispers. ‘Can’t you smell that? Her perfume. It’s her. It’s her. Chloe, can you hear us? Please respond.’

  How is Chloe supposed to move the glass? Tell them, yes, she is here. Remember how. Will it and it shall happen. Push. The familiar words send heat along her spine. And she does it; she pushes. Not with her finger. Not with her body. With her heart.

  And the glass moves.

  Chester jumps back. Ginger and Ryan smile.

  It touches the word ‘Hello’.

  ‘Hello,’ cries Ginger. ‘Is it really you, Chloe?’

  ‘Might not be,’ says Ryan.

  ‘Fuck me,’ Chester puts his finger back on the glass. ‘You two moved that. You did, didn’t you?’

  They ignore him. ‘How can we know it’s you?’ asks Ryan.

  Chloe pushes.

  SHE HAUNTS ME

  Ginger sobs. ‘It’s her.’

  ‘Anyone could mess with us and say that,’ insists Ryan.

  ‘This is crazy,’ cries Chester. ‘Are you two doing this? You’re messing with my head.’

  SWIM AND DONT LOOK BACK

  ‘The song…’ says Ginger.

  ‘Everyone knows it,’ says Ryan. ‘They’ve been playing it everywhere, even before tonight’s show. Could be anyone.’

  HERE AND YET NOT HERE

  ‘Chloe,’ whispers Ginger.

  THERE AND YET NOT THERE

  ‘Ask her something only she knows,’ Ryan tells Chester.

  Chester pauses. Thinks. Then, ‘Chloe,’ he says softly. ‘What was the last thing I ever said to you?’

  TWITTER WILL BE THE FIRST ONE I TELL

  Ryan and Ginger look expectantly at Chester. He nods, his eyes glistening. ‘I always did say the most profound things, didn’t I? If this is really you somehow, I miss you, Chloe. Shit, am I really talking to you? This is crazy. Life isn’t the same without you.’

  I MISS YOU TOO CHES

  He nods, hand on chest. ‘It’s not the same at the New Theatre. I miss the DW. I even miss Cynthia. Hell, I miss Beth. That slag at Propaganda is my boyfriend now. Knew he’d commit in the end. Ryan’s show is on, so I get see it loads. He’s ace in it. Ginger’s got a small role in it too, so we’re all at the same theatre at the mo.’ He pauses. ‘Can you see all this stuff where you are, Chlo? Do you know that Ginger’s mother killed Morgan?’ Ginger looks down at her lap and doesn’t respond. ‘It all came out the week after you died. Shit, that was a shock. You were the first one I called … and then I remembered. I can’t—’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ interrupts Ginger. ‘I’m so sorry, Chloe.’

  ‘You’re just sorry that killing her meant you never got to play Esme in this year’s Dust,’ says Ryan quietly.

  ‘No. No. I am sorry.’

  Chloe believes her. Is it because she wants to?

  No. She knows. Like she always used to.

  ‘You’d have had her fucking show if you could,’ says Chester. ‘It was trending you know, Chlo, the fact that she tried to nick it. #ScriptGate hasn’t done her any harm, to be fair. No such thing as bad press turns out to be true. And she had the nerve to come and see it tonight!’

  ‘I had to see it,’ says Ginger, her voice reverent. ‘Chloe, I remember when I heard you performing it that day, on the stage here. I told you it was beautiful. It was. I knew then that it was utterly magic. And I was consumed with jealousy and ambition. I wanted it for myself. I’m not making excuses, but my mum had pounded it into me that I had to succeed, at any cost. You know that, Chloe. You knew her. The success of me getting the role of Esme went to my head and I had to find something as big. And I knew that was your script.’

  I NEVER MEANT
TO HURT YOU

  ‘I never meant to hurt you,’ says Ginger.

  IM SORRY ABOUT CUTTING YOU

  ‘No, I’m sorry. Can you forgive me? I’m haunted by what I did. And I’m sorry.’

  SHE HAUNTS ME

  ‘Yes,’ says Ginger. ‘You do.’

  Chloe realises that it’s exhausting pushing the glass; using the heart is so much harder than using a finger. She is weak now. Just a few more.

  GOOD LUCK RYAN

  ‘Thank you,’ he says.

  BE HAPPY CHES

  ‘Without you?’ he says. ‘Never.’

  IM RIGHT HERE

  He sniffs dramatically.

  CHESTER TOMORROW PLEASE GO

  The effort of pushing the glass is indescribably hard now. Chloe gives it everything she has.

  AND TELL MY MUM

  ‘Yes?’ says Chester.

  I SAW HER WATCHING MY SHOW

  Push.

  I DEDICATE IT TO HER

  ‘I’ll tell her,’ he promises.

  Chloe realises she can’t push anymore.

  ‘What about me?’ cries Ginger.

  They wait.

  ‘Chloe! No! Please don’t go without saying goodbye to me. I’m sorry, I really and truly am.’

  Chloe walks around the three of them; a full and final circle. Ryan and Chester take their fingers from the glass. Ryan says that Chloe has probably gone. Ginger begins to cry, sobbing, finger still on the glass, still hoping. Chloe stops behind her. She leans in to smell her hair. Nothing. She touches the curls, but they fall through her fingers. This is not where she wants to be. There but not there. She leans down and kisses Ginger’s cheek. When she pulls away, she sees it is Jess. Sixteen-year-old Jess, her hair in plaits, her cheeks pink with the heat of a hot August night. Jess is frowning and touching her cheek. Chloe can no longer see Chester or Ryan. She moves the tiny ghost charm so it shivers – one last push – and Jess looks down at it.

  She smiles and looks up, directly at Chloe.

  ‘I’ll always love you,’ says Chloe. ‘And I do forgive you.’

  Then she closes her eyes.

  She whispers, ‘I am dust.’

  And blacks out one final time.

  Except it is silver.

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to my first readers who all, in their own ways, help shape the book. I depend on these wonderful people. You know who you are – my sisters Grace Wilkinson and Claire Lugar, and my friends John Marrs, Madeleine Black, and Matt Wesolowski.

  When this book was in its infancy, my friend Dean Wilson tweeted about a dream he had where he and Madonna had written a song called ‘Dust’. I got shivers. I knew it was supposed to be a musical. I asked him if he minded (which he didn’t) and it became the show at the heart of the book. It was only fair that I should then name the playwright and theatre after him.

  Thank you for the endless support from Anne Cater, Nina Pottell, Liz Robinson, Margaret Madden, Fiona Mills, Carrie Martin, Helen Jn Pierre, Laura Pearson, Sue Bond, Helen Boyce, Tracy Fenton, Claire Allan, Lisa Howells, Paul Burston, Susie Lynes, Louise Jensen, Louisa Treger, Gill Paul, Ellen Devonport, Frances Pearson, Deirdre O’Brien, Carol Lovekin, Chloe Deyes, Amelia Grimes, Michael Mann, and Alice Palmer.

  A special mention and thank you to the THREE DAVES! Wakefield Dave, Durham Dave and Cake Dave. You know who you are.

  Thank you to the groups that are my go-to place – TBC The Book Club, Book Connectors, The Prime Writers, and The Motherload Book Club. Thank you also to the Women of Words; Cass, Lynda, Michelle and Emily. Love you all.

  Thank you to all those who came along on my last blog tour – Mac Reviews Books, Zooloo’s Book Dairy, Steph’s Book Blog, Book Social, DeeCee at It’s All About The Books, Cal Turner Reviews, MADE UP Book Reviews, Passages To The Past, Amanda at My Bookish Blog Spot, Beverley at Beverley Has Read, Hair Past A Freckle, Emma’s Bookish Corner, Hayley at Rather Too Fond of Books, Portobello Book Blog, Claire Thinking, Rachael Read It, Jen Med’s Book Reviews, Ellen Devonport, Bibliophile Book Club, BeadyJan’s Books, Anne Williams, Joanne Robertson, Sandie’s Book Shelves, Rae Reads, Kate at Everywhere and Nowhere, Books of all Kinds, Have Books Will Read, Novel Gossip, Novel Delights, Northern Reader, Emma R, Trish at Between My Lines, Sharon Bairden, A Little Book Problem, Sinfully Wicked Book Reviews, Joanna at Over The Rainbow, Donna’s Book Blog, Varietats, Books And Me, Anne Cater, Kaisha at The Writing Garnet, Between The Pages Book Club, The Literary Shed, The Last Word, The Shelf of Unread Books, Claire Knight, Mr Gravy, the Bearded Book Blogger, Jacob at Hooked from Page One, Novel Deelights, Suze Reviews, Jaffa Reads Too, The Bookscoop, Books, Bucks, & Beyond, What Cathy Read Next, Herding Cats, On the Shelf Book Blog, Joy Kluver, Karen at My Reading Corner, If Only I Could Read Faster, Lisa at Segnalibro, Cheryl M-N’s Book Blog, On the Shelf Reviews, The Big Fat Bookworm, The Reading Closet, Book Lover Worm, Booking Good Read, and Books Are My Cwtches.

  Thank you, West Camel and Karen Sullivan, for the careful, thoughtful edits. Thank you to Mark at Kidethic for the eternally incredible covers. Thank you for all the love to #TeamOrenda. You are my family.

  And thank you, always, to Karen Sullivan for having faith in my words, for letting me tell the story I have to, and for taking that chance every time.

  Orenda Books

  16 Carson Road

  West Dulwich

  London SE21 8HU

  www.orendabooks.co.uk

  First published in the United Kingdom by Orenda Books, 2020

  Copyright © Louise Beech, 2020

  Louise Beech has asserted her moral right to be identified as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the written permission of the publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978-1-913193-21-8

  eISBN 978-1-913193-22-5

  Resource: Image by acworks from silhouette-ac.com

  For sales and distribution, please contact info@orendabooks.co.uk