by Cross, Amy
“Will you come back as a ghost, Mummy?” Daniel asks, and I can hear him sniffing back tears.
“I don't know, sweetheart.”
“Why don't you know?”
“No-one knows that.”
“But you can try, can't you?”
“Of course, but -”
“And if you try really hard, then maybe you'll still be around.”
“If there's any way,” I tell him, avoiding mentioning that I have little hope now, “then wild horses won't be able to keep me away.”
“But you think it's possible, don't you?”
“I don't know, sweetheart.”
He pulls away and stares at me, and the sight of his teary eyes breaks my heart.
“You don't believe, do you?” he says after a moment, as if he's been studying my face and reading my thoughts. As if my lack of faith has left him feeling betrayed. “You don't think you can come back.”
“I think you have to be a brave boy and focus on the here and now,” I reply. “On what you can see and hear right in front of you. But never doubt that if I can be there, or if I can watch over you, then I'll be right there. Even if you can't see or hear me, maybe you'll sense me from time to time. And maybe that'll be enough to make you feel a little better.”
I wait for him to tell me he understands, but he simply leans closer and hugs me again. I'm clearly doing a terrible job of explaining, and of making him feel better, and I honestly don't know what else I can say. If I promise to stay with him, even after I'm gone, then I'll just be lying to him, and I can't bring myself to do that. Then again, maybe that's precisely what he needs right now.
Hope.
Belief that something might be possible.
I should let him have that hope, even if I've lost it myself.
“If I can come back,” I tell him, “I'll give you a sign. I don't know what it'll be, I don't know what I'll be able to do, but I'll give you some kind of sign. And that's a promise, Daniel. You'll just have to look out for it.”
Chapter Twenty
Daniel
“Nana, what happened at the ash house?”
She's sitting on the steps at the front of the main house, drinking a cup of coffee. Every morning since Mum died, Nana has sat out here like this, staring into space. I never once saw her out here like this before, but now she seems to have developed a whole new habit. And as she turns to look at me, I can immediately tell that she's unsettled by my question.
Looking over at the little ash house, I find it hard to believe that anything bad could have happened there. Still, Mum told me before she died that I should ask one day, and I think the day has come.
“What would you like for lunch?” Nana says. “I have some lovely ham that'd make a lovely sandwich or two.”
“Nana, what happened at -”
“Nothing happened, Daniel. Now what sandwich would you like?”
She looks back down at her coffee, as if she expects those two words to have settled the subject and answered all my questions.
Stepping past her, I make my way out across the yard and then I stop next to the little ash house. I reach out and place a hand on the stones, and then I lean down to make sure that there's nobody inside. Not that there should be anyone inside, but I still can't help wondering whether that weird little girl might show up. At the same time, deep down I've got a feeling that the girl won't come while Nana's about. Call it a hunch.
“Your mother and her friends used to...”
Nana's voice trails off, and when I turn to her I can't help but notice that she looks to be on the verge of tears. She meets my gaze for a moment, before looking down at her coffee again.
“Well,” she continues, and now her voice is trembling, “they used to play in there. I used to try to get them to keep out, but they never listened to me.”
“But did something happen before that?” I ask.
“Before?”
“How old is the ash house?”
“Oh, I don't know. As old as the main house, I suppose. Older, probably. I know there are some further off across the moor that are five or six hundred years old.”
“Five or six hundred?”
I start walking around the ash house, keeping my hand bumping against the stones. It's hard to believe that this little house has been here for such a long time.
“They were very useful in farming,” Nana continues, as she sniffs back some tears. “The ash would be spread across the fields. This house was never a farmhouse, but there's a farm not far down the road. Sometimes birds would be allowed to roost in the roof area, so that their droppings would add a little extra nourishment to the ash. Then the ash was sold off to the old Boomer farm, when that was still running. Of course, all of this was a long time ago now. Perhaps I should have had the ash house knocked down a long time ago, but I never got around to it.”
“They used bird poo?” I reply as I get all the way around to the other side of the ash house. “Gross.”
“They had to use everything, Daniel. People couldn't afford to waste back then.”
“And every night, someone used to come out with ash from the fire inside?”
“Every single night. If you'd lived here back then, it would have been your job. I bet you wouldn't have liked that, would you? It'd make setting the table for breakfast, lunch and dinner seem like a doddle.”
Ducking down, I look inside the ash house, but all I see is the gloomy interior with dirt and muck on the floor.
“Are you interested in history, Daniel?” Nana asks. “Do you like to know more about old buildings?”
“Did a little girl ever live here?”
“I beg your pardon?”
I get to my feet and look over at her.
“Do you know if a little girl ever lived here?” I ask. “I don't know anything about her, except that maybe she lived here or nearby.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“If she -”
“And that's quite enough for today,” she adds, getting to her feet even though her coffee is still steaming. “I'm afraid I don't have time to sit around like this, constantly answering silly questions.”
“I only -”
“There's a lot to be doing around the place,” she continues, making her way up the steps. “I can tell you're a little bored, Daniel. I shall have to think of some jobs for you to do. Perhaps tomorrow you can go into town and run a few errands for me. I'll write you a list this evening.”
I open my mouth to call after her, but it's pretty clear that she suddenly doesn't want to talk about the ash house anymore. As soon as I mentioned the little girl, she clammed up tight. Either she's seen the girl, or she knows something about her, but I doubt I'll be able to persuade her to tell me what she knows. Still, as I turn to look back down at the ash house, and as I run a hand across its rough surface, I can't help thinking that the little girl must be appearing to me for a reason.
Maybe she wants something.
Chapter Twenty-One
Diane
“Careful,” Mum says as I shuffle through the front door. “Diane, don't go too fast! Diane, darling, you're going to fall again!”
“I'm not going to fall,” I reply, as I grip the banister. Just the walk from the taxi was enough to make me feel incredibly weak, but I refuse to surrender and let Mum see that I'm ailing.
I can do this.
I can still get about.
“Do you want to sit on the stairs for a minute?” Daniel asks, as he brings my bag inside.
“No, I'm fine,” I mutter, staying completely still as I try to keep the world from swimming around my head. My son seems to be inheriting my mother's insistence on worrying. “I just want to do normal things, okay? What time is it?”
“It's lunchtime,” Mum replies.
“Then let's have lunch. Or at least, you guys have lunch. These new meds are giving my appetite a kicking, but I want you two to live normal lives.”
“But -”
>
“I just want things to be normal!” I snap. “Please! Can we just be normal?”
I turn and see that Mum's hovering right behind me, with her hands reaching out as if she expects to have to catch me at any moment.
Daniel, meanwhile, is eyeing me with a hint of suspicion. He's been taking great care to make sure that he's helpful, but he's been very conspicuously avoiding any actual contact with me. It's so obvious that he's trying to detach himself from me, as if he knows I'm going soon and he wants to take some control over the process.
If that helps him, then I'm not going to stand in his way.
“This house feels so dead,” I say with a sigh, although I immediately regret my choice of words as I turn to Mum. “This is the first time in ages that I haven't heard you playing music on that goddamn radio.”
“I thought you might like some peace and quiet, darling.”
“Put the radio on.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes!” I snap, before taking a deep breath. “Please. If you don't mind. Like I said, I just want everything to be as normal as possible.”
She mutters something under her breath as she heads through to the living room, leaving me to turn and see that Daniel is still watching me with concern.
“You're gonna have to help me with her,” I tell him, trying to force a smile. “She's gonna drive me nuts with all this fussing. Isn't she driving you nuts too?”
“I'll take your bag upstairs,” he says meekly, grabbing the bag and making his way past me.
“You don't have to do that right now,” I reply.
“No, I want to.”
“Danny -”
“I'll put it right by your bed.”
He hurries up without even so much as a glance back toward me, and I'm left to watch as he disappears around the corner at the top. I'm more certain than ever now that he's trying to avoid me. A moment later, hearing music in the living room, I breathe a sigh of relief as I realize that at least Mum has accepted the need to make things a little more normal.
Despite the pain in my hip, I start limping through to find her.
I swear, somehow the fall in the restaurant has really damaged me, and I don't understand why I haven't recovered faster. I guess maybe my body has other fights to fight right now.
“He's such a good boy, isn't he?” Mum says as she plumps up some cushions on the sofa. “He's very helpful. You never have to ask him to do something, do you? He just seems to know.”
“He's spending a long time up there,” I point out. “He's avoiding me.”
“Diane, there's no -”
“It's okay,” I add. “I understand why.”
She pauses, and I can see from the look in her eyes that she knows I'm right.
“How are you feeling?” she asks after a moment. “Do you want to have a rest? I can make the sofa up for you, so you don't have to keep going up and down the stairs.”
“That's not -”
I catch myself just in time.
“That'd be good, actually,” I continue, and she's already rearranging the pillows by the time I've even managed to start walking over.
I swear, I feel like an ancient old woman now. I'm thirty-eight years old. I should be able to move faster than this.
Suddenly hearing a bumping sound from above, I stop and look up at the ceiling. I swear my mind is a little foggy after all those drugs at the hospital, because it takes several seconds before I realize that the sound must have been caused by Daniel. For a moment there, I was starting to wonder whether there might be something else here in the house with us. And as I continue to stare at the ceiling, I realize that I might still have one ace up my sleeve.
There's one thing I haven't tried yet.
One last resort I've been holding back.
I told myself I wasn't desperate enough to try, but I'm desperate now.
“Can you go and ask Danny to bring one of my bags down?” I ask, turning to Mum. “The red hold-all under my bed. Can you ask him to bring it?”
“Is there something you want from it?” she asks.
“Just get him to bring the whole bag.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Daniel
Moonlight is shining through the window, casting the shadows of swaying trees against my bedroom ceiling. Unable to sleep, I've been staring up at those shadows for a while now, hoping that their gentle movement might help me to feel tired. So far, I haven't had much luck.
Suddenly I sit up as I realize I heard a creaking sound on the landing.
I wait.
Silence.
My first thought is that maybe Mum has come back, but then I hear another creak and I realize it's only Nana getting up again and going to the bathroom.
Settling back against the pillow, I hear the sound of her locking the bathroom door, and then the house falls silent again.
If Mum could come back, she would. Even if it was only for a moment. After all, she promised to give me a sign, and it's been a few weeks now since she died. I've been paying attention to every little noise in the house, and I haven't noticed one thing that might be a sign.
“If something like that were possible,” I remember her saying, “then wild horses wouldn't keep me away.”
I feel tears in my eyes as I think back to the sound of her voice. I have one of her sweaters under my pillow, too, so I can still smell her when I'm in bed. I haven't told Nana about that, and I hide the sweater during the days. After all, I don't want Nana to think I'm being silly or childish, and I won't keep the sweater forever. I just can't help thinking that maybe I can help guide Mum back here, so that she'll find her way more easily.
A moment later there's a clicking sound on the landing. I turn and look toward the door, and I can't deny that for a fraction of a second I feel a little jump of hope in my chest before I realize that it's just Nana coming back from the bathroom. I hear her sniffing as she shuffles past my door, and then I hear her going into her room, and then I hear her gently pushing her door shut and then the house falls silent again.
If there's no sign from Mum soon, that can only mean one thing.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Diane
“Are you sure you'll be okay down here tonight?” Mum asks as she comes over to the sofa with another blanket. “If you want, I can sleep down here with you and -”
“No, I'll be fine,” I reply, really hoping that she'll stop fussing and go to bed soon. As she sets this latest blanket over my chest, I feel a flush of gratitude, but also irritation. At the same time, I glance at the red hold-all. “I just didn't want to go all the way up the stairs.”
“That's completely understandable.”
“I didn't want to get stuck up there,” I add.
“Stuck?”
“I was worried that if I went up,” I continue, feeling a little breathless, “maybe I wouldn't be able to get down again. Stupid, huh?”
“Do you really feel that bad?”
“I'll probably be better in the morning.”
“Let's hope so, darling.”
She pauses, staring down at me for a moment, before leaning closer and kissing me on the forehead. Her lips linger for a few seconds, and then she pulls back. I can tell from the way she's loitering that she doesn't want to leave me overnight. In fact, I'm worried she might decide to sleep down here with me, which would put a serious crick in my plans. Again, I glance at the hold-fall, before turning back to Mum.
“I'll be right here in the morning,” I tell her, managing a smile even though there's a sore burning sensation in my chest. “I'm not going anywhere just yet.”
“Of course you're not.”
“There are some things I need to do tomorrow,” I add. “I might need your help.”
“Of course.”
“And some of them...” I pause, as I realize I can't ignore certain responsibilities, not now that I'm getting so close to the end. There are certain things I should have done already. “I need to do some paper
work. I want to make things as simple as possible for when I'm not around and -”
“Don't fret about that now.”
“I don't have a will,” I continue. “I need to -”
“We'll talk about it in the morning,” she says, taking a step back. “Not now, sweetheart. Please. Everything will seem easier in the morning.”
She fusses for a few more minutes, and to be honest I start to wonder whether she's ever going to go to bed. Finally, however, she kisses me on the forehead one more time before going through to the hallway, and I stay flat on my back on the sofa as I listen to the sound of her footsteps heading up to her room. I hear her door bumping shut, but I wait a little while longer before slowly easing myself up and getting to my feet.
This might be my only chance.
Shuffling over to my red hold-all, I reach down and open the zipper and then I fumble inside for a moment before starting to slide out the old wooden board I picked up at a charity shop a while back. Turning the board over, I see the alphabet laid out, along with three words: Yes, No, and Goodbye.
***
“Is anyone here?” I ask as I sit at the dining room table, all alone with only the light of one candle in the room. “If anyone's here, can you say something?”
I wait, with my fingertips resting on the planchette, but still there's no sign of movement.
“Is anyone here? Is there a spirit in the house?”
Again I wait.
Again, the only response is silence.
I'm starting to feel like an idiot. When I bought the ouija board, I thought it was just a bit of fun. I never intended to actually use the damn thing. That was months ago, when the doctors were still telling me I had a good chance of beating the cancer. Then as things got worse, the idea of using the ouija board began to take root and I found myself thinking about it more and more, but I still wasn't planning to actually get the damn thing out. For one thing, I was never desperate enough to try contacting the dead. For another, I never actually thought the dead were out there waiting to be contacted. I thought the whole thing was a crock of garbage for weak, stupid people.
