Haunted Ever After

by Juliet Madison

‘Sally, what happened?’ Mel approached, mostly obscured by a trolley full of wine, chocolates, chips, cookies, and colourful packets of sweet indulgences, followed by Georgie who’d been in charge of the fruit and vegetables. ‘Did that guy have a go at you for some reason?’

  I nodded.

  ‘The bastard, I’ll give him a piece of my mind,’ Georgie said, taking a long-legged step forward.

  I grasped her arm. ‘No, don’t. He had every right to be angry with me. I ran over his foot with the shopping trolley.’

  Mel burst out laughing, and Georgie’s blue eyes widened. ‘How did you manage that?’

  ‘I was pushing it a little too fast and didn’t see him when I rounded the corner.’

  ‘Why the rush, Sal? We’re here in Barron Springs to relax,’ Georgie said, moving her trolley aside with one hand for a customer to pass, as if it was as light as a feather.

  I was trying to dislodge the ghost riding on my trolley.

  ‘I guess I’m still in wedding panic mode. Besides, I can’t wait to get to the guest house and enjoy ourselves.’ I flashed a smile, and glancing around I noticed that the ghost had indeed disappeared.

  ‘Me neither,’ Mel said. ‘I need to make every kid-free moment count. Let’s go girls!’ She heaved her bulky load towards the check-out.

  We paid for our purchases and packed the groceries into Lorena’s glossy, black four-wheel drive. As she expertly manoeuvred across the bumpy country roads, Lorena sang along to a song on the radio, and then in a singsong voice announced, ‘We’re heeere!’

  She pulled into the long driveway of Barron Springs Country Guest House, a grand old building with cute gable windows protruding like eyes, light grey walls, dark grey roof tiles, and tall trees framing the property. It looked every bit the old-fashioned haunted house, especially when we neared the front porch. I gulped. There, sitting on the steps and waving with such enthusiasm I thought her hand might fall off, was Ghost Woman.

  CHAPTER 4

  ‘Is it wine o’clock yet?’ Mel asked, as she plonked her short self on the three-seater velvet couch and rested her feet on the coffee table.

  Hear, hear. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but with the guest house looking more like a ghost house I was in dire need of something to take the edge off my anxiety.

  ‘No, not till dinnertime,’ Georgie replied as she put away the results of our shopping expedition. ‘Cocktails will be served at six, along with hors d’oeuvres. You’ll have to use your willpower to wait till then.’ She looked like a Stepford Wife, expertly busying herself in the kitchen with a smile, her golden blonde locks tumbling over her shoulders as she bent down.

  ‘I left my willpower back home, it’s lost somewhere in the mix of Lego, talking dolls, and dirty towels.’ Mel yawned. ‘How about some chocolate? Wait, after dinner, is that right, Miss Black Belt Chef?’ she teased, and our beloved celebrity chef-slash-karate guru came out of the kitchen to give her a pretend kick.

  ‘Spot on. Now get up off your arse and lend a hand.’ Georgie winked. You wouldn’t know by looking at the tall, slim, model-beautiful Georgie that she could knock out a man twice her size if she wanted to. She looked like she belonged in a hair or skincare commercial, which had probably given a helping hand to her television cooking career.

  Mel sighed and twisted her dark hair into a loose, haphazard bun at the nape of her neck. ‘Five minutes into my holiday and I’m back in the kitchen.’

  As Mel unpacked the wine and did her best not to pop the cork then and there, the ghost tried to pick up the bottles but her hand went straight through.

  Oh no, please don’t do that, I urged silently as though she could read my thoughts. Well, maybe she could, who knows? She eyed me with a pout then tried again, but instead of succeeding she knocked over the bag of fruit and vegetables and they scattered on the floor.

  ‘Yep,’ Mel said, bending to retrieve them. ‘Now I really feel at home. Picking things up off the floor. Except I’m the clumsy one instead of my children.’

  Ghost Woman (I really should find out her name) circled her arms and wriggled her torso in a happy dance at her slightly off target victory, but victory nonetheless, and ‘whooped’ out loud. ‘Yeah baby, Ghost Mama is in da howse!’

  Great.

  ‘Shame I couldn’t lift the wine,’ she said. ‘I could really do with some in my state. Not that I can drink it. Oh well, I shall practise like mad this weekend to strengthen my…my…powers, or whatever they are.’

  ‘Oh no you won’t!’ I said. Out loud. Which meant of course that everyone was now looking at me strangely, even Lorena who’d been busy rummaging through some secret bag I wasn’t allowed to look in.

  ‘What? Who won’t what?’ Mel asked.

  My brain tried to urgently extract an answer. ‘Um, you know exactly what I mean.’ I crossed my arms authoritatively and gave a sharp nod, my bottom lip poking out, as though they were the strange ones by not understanding what I said.

  ‘Huh?’ she frowned.

  ‘The um, the…wine! I saw you looking at it like you were about to cart it off to a secluded corner of the house and guzzle it in one sitting.’

  ‘No I wasn’t.’

  ‘Yes you were.’

  ‘Um, no. I was looking at the…’ she held up a white and green vegetable. ‘What the heck is this thing?’

  ‘Fennel,’ Georgie said, looking as though she’d been asked what an apple was.

  ‘Oh, right. Never had it before. Thanks, you learn something new every day.’ Mel high-fived Georgie.

  ‘Fair enough. But you were thinking of opening the wine early weren’t you? And you heard the expert, no wine till dinner.’

  ‘Hun, I’m always thinking of wine. That, and sleep.’

  ‘What about sex?’ Lorena piped up, raising her perfectly arched eyebrows.

  ‘Well I would, but who has time or energy to think about that?’ Mel huffed.

  Trust Lorena to move the conversation from fennel to sex. Must be all those pregnancy hormones. Then again, she was always a cheeky girl. If it wasn’t for Lorena and the Dolly magazines she smuggled into my magazine-forbidden house when we were pre-teens, I wouldn’t have known anything about the subject at hand.

  ‘My husband does, apparently.’ Georgie closed one of the wooden cupboard doors and paused, a secretive look in her eye. Ghost Woman’s face strained as she focused on the door, no doubt trying to open it with her mind. She grunted, but that didn’t work either. She flung her arms up in the air in defeat then disappeared. Her disappearances brought relief but also apprehension. Relief that she was gone but, with her habit of dropping in suddenly and scaring the life out of me, I actually wondered if I’d prefer her to be a constant presence. If I had to choose one or the other.

  ‘All men do, but is there something you’re not telling us?’ Mel nudged Georgie in the ribs as a sneaky grin crept up Georgie’s cheek.

  ‘Yes, what are things like with Mr Mason?’ Lorena perched on a kitchen bar stool and leaned forward.

  Georgie’s husband was thirteen years older than her and had provided her with an instant family; twin teenage stepdaughters to call her own.

  She flicked her hand. ‘Oh nothing. I shouldn’t talk about this stuff with you guys. It’s between me and Phillip.’

  Okay, now even I was curious. And I wasn’t one for gossip.

  ‘Girls, let’s promise that whatever we do or discuss this weekend at Barron Springs, stays at Barron Springs,’ Lorena said. ‘It’s been forever since we’ve all been together, just the four of us. Like the old times.’

  ‘Ah yes, whatever happened to The Housewives Club we pledged to create?’ Mel asked.

  ‘Um, I think we left that sexist terminology back in Year Five, along with our Barbie dolls and toy tea sets,’ Georgie scoffed. ‘Can you believe back then we actually aspired to be the perfect housewife like in those old sitcoms? How times have changed.’

  I twisted my lips to the side. Yes, I was a working woman, but when it came t
o the household duties, I did them all. Greg wasn’t any good at them so it was simply quicker and easier to do them myself.

  ‘I’ll have you know I’m quite proud to be a super-dooper housewife, thank you very much.’ Mel took on the same posture I’d displayed before when trying to pretend I’d been talking to her and not the ghost.

  ‘Oh c’mon, I didn’t mean it that way,’ Georgie said. ‘And besides, you’re not only a stay-at-home mother of five, you’re a businesswoman too. I don’t know how you do it.’

  Mel softened. ‘Oh, I only do what any woman would do in my situation, and eBay is my outlet, I need it.’

  Any person overhearing our conversation might have thought she was a shopaholic, but shopaholics kept her in business. And them in debt, more than likely. Her popular humorous t-shirt store was growing, much like her family. And my anxiety, as I scanned the house for our unwelcome visitor. Where does she disappear to? Heaven? Hell? Or some kind of transitionary place for ghosts who can’t decide whether they actually want to rest in peace?

  ‘Anyway, stop getting off topic and tell us the goss, Georgie.’ Lorena rubbed her hands together.

  Georgie leaned forward on the kitchen counter as though afraid her husband might hear her from fifty kilometres away. ‘Phillip has been having some, ah…problems.’ She cleared her throat. ‘And I caught him jotting down the phone number on a late night TV commercial.’

  ‘You mean, one of those commercials?’

  ‘Yes. Something about “making loving last longer”.’ Georgie covered her reddening face.

  ‘Well, it’s good that he’s making an effort to improve things. Go him, I say!’ Lorena pumped her fist.

  ‘What’s with all this longer lasting loving business? I don’t have time for that,’ Mel said as she leaned back. ‘Personally, I’m all for time efficiency.’

  ‘Mel!’ Lorena slapped her arm.

  ‘Please don’t say a word, you guys,’ Georgie said.

  ‘We won’t.’ Lorena held out her hand, palm facing downwards. ‘C’mon girls. Say it with me: “What happens in Barron Springs…”’

  ‘“…Stays in Barron Springs,”’ we chorused, and my stomach fluttered a little. Was it wise to have put Lorena in charge of my bridal weekend? Something in her mischievous smile told me she had something more than a simple, relaxing, dignified weekend in store.

  * * *

  ‘I think I’ll get unpacked. Who’s sleeping where?’ I picked up my overnight bag and peered behind the kitchen.

  ‘Sal, you’re upstairs. Bride-to-be gets the luxury suite,’ Lorena said with a smile. ‘I’m over here,’ she pointed to a room near the front of the house, ‘And Mel and Georgie, you’re sharing in the room next to mine.’

  ‘You better not snore Georgie, I’ve been looking forward to a weekend without Michael’s blocked sinuses.’

  ‘Nothing to worry about Mel, I’m as quiet as a mouse.’ Georgie followed Mel into the bedroom.

  ‘In my state, even a quiet mouse would probably wake me up,’ Lorena said. ‘Which is why I brought these.’ She plucked a container of earplugs from her bag and held them up. ‘Pregnancy does weird things to you. All my senses — heightened. Taste, smell, it’s all so strong.’

  But her hormones obviously hadn’t heightened her sixth sense. For some reason that was allocated to me. Plain, practical, non-believing me. Maybe this was some sort of brain malfunction. A tumour? A mini-stroke? A surge of apprehension shot through me. If it wasn’t for all the trouble Lorena had gone to in organising this weekend, I’d be back at the hospital in a flash, but this time as a patient. At least to rule out anything sinister. Maybe I could do my own neuro obs every hour? Check if there were any other signs of neurological abnormalities? No, that wouldn’t work. I’d need someone else to do them to be accurate.

  ‘Are you okay, Sal? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

  ‘Huh? No. Of course not. What, why, how, why would I look like that? I haven’t seen a ghost. Ghosts don’t exist.’

  ‘Yes they do!’ Ghost Woman jumped in front of me, her eyes piercing mine with their glare. ‘How would you feel if I acted like you were invisible, huh?’ She planted her hands on her hips.

  I covered my eyes with one hand and leaned on the wall with the other. ‘This can’t be happening.’

  ‘Oh hun, what’s the matter?’ Lorena placed her arm around me, then gasped. ‘Oh! Are you pregnant too? You can tell me, remember: what happens in Barron Springs…’

  I straightened. ‘No, I’m definitely not pregnant. I think I’m…getting nervous about the wedding, that’s all. You know I don’t like being the centre of attention.’

  Lorena dropped her arm and stood in front of me, displacing the ghost. She held her finger to my chin, raising it, and I looked into her big, dark eyes. ‘Listen to me, Sally Marsh. If you’re lucky, you only get to experience one wedding in your whole life. Don’t waste this special time feeling worried or scared. Enjoy it. Savour each moment in the build-up to the big day. No need to be nervous. All the guests will be there for you and Greg, they won’t be there to judge you in any way. Where’s that confident young woman I met when I was ten? The one who showed me how to climb the huge tree so we could spy on the boys next door?’

  She disappeared when my mother had her accident and I transformed overnight from a carefree girl into a carer. Dad had to make ends meet and I had to take on Mum’s role as cook, cleaner, and general housekeeper. Until she’d gotten used to being in the wheelchair and we adapted the house to make it easier for her to do things.

  ‘I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t sound ungrateful. I’ll try to lighten up and enjoy the weekend.’ This time I placed my arm around Lorena. ‘And you,’ I jabbed her in the collarbone with my other finger, ‘make sure you put your feet up sometime over the weekend, okay? Nurse’s orders.’

  ‘Feet? What are they? I don’t see any feet.’ She peered over the protrusion of her belly and laughed. ‘Okay, you try to have fun and let your hair down, and I’ll make time for rest. Deal?’ She held out her hand.

  ‘Deal.’ I shook it and smiled, and Lorena waddled into her bedroom while I headed for the stairs.

  ‘And you’ll help me have some fun of my own. Deal?’ the ghost asked, with her hand outstretched.

  I glared at her and walked up the staircase, the wood creaking with each step.

  After doing my best to ignore the intruder singing in my bedroom while I packed my belongings away, I thought for a moment about who she could have been. If she was a real ghost, that is, and not an hallucination.

  I eyed her curiously.

  ‘Finally! What do I have to do to get some attention around here?’

  ‘What’s your name?’ I asked.

  She diverted her gaze and looked at my clothing. ‘Let me guess, you’re wearing white trousers on your wedding day instead of a dress?’

  ‘No, of course I’m wearing a dress, if you must know. And why don’t you answer my question? What is — was — your name?’

  She glanced at me briefly. ‘I’m not telling.’

  ‘Am I supposed to keep calling you Ghost Woman?’

  ‘You can do better than that.’

  ‘The Girl in the Purple Polka Dot Pyjamas?’

  ‘Bit of a mouthful.’

  ‘Casper?’ I grinned.

  ‘Oh, ha-ha, you’re hilarious.’

  She slumped on the bed and leaned her elbows on her knees, her hair falling about her face. Bright, red curls, like flames, dancing and tickling her face.

  ‘I know. If you won’t tell me your real name. I’ll call you: Red.’ I gave a firm nod.

  ‘Red? I always hated my red hair.’

  ‘Yes. You’re officially Red until you tell me who you really are, or were. Take it or leave it.’ I crossed my arms.

  ‘Fine.’ She sighed and walked across to the window, trying unsuccessfully to open it with her laser focus.

  ‘So, Red, there must be a reason you’re here. Why me? What do you
want?’

  She turned around, and for the first time her expression held a look of seriousness. ‘I can’t tell you yet.’

  ‘Why not? Tell me now and then we can get whatever it is over with so I can get on with enjoying my bridal weekend.’

  She turned back to the window.

  ‘First sign of insanity.’

  I spun around to face the owner of the voice; Lorena, her light chocolate skin glowing in the afternoon light streaming through the window.

  ‘Talking to yourself, first sign of insanity, hun.’ She winked. ‘Don’t worry, I do it all the time, gotta get things out of my head sometimes.’

  She walked to the wardrobe. ‘So, what are you wearing tonight? You did remember I said to bring something a bit glam, right?’

  ‘Yes, I remembered. I’m wearing this.’ I pointed to my black slacks and a mauve cotton shirt with a slight frill around the collar.

  Lorena eyed me as though I’d said I was wearing my wedding dress to go scuba diving. ‘Honey, that’s more office wear than glam. Didn’t you bring something a bit snazzier? A dress perhaps?’

  ‘Ha!’ Red exclaimed, turning around from the window. ‘See? Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about.’

  I diverted my gaze back to Lorena. ‘That’s about as snazzy as I’ve got, I’m afraid. And we’re just having dinner here at the house tonight, aren’t we?’

  ‘Yes, we are, but you’ll need something dressier than this.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You’ll see.’ Her mischievous grin returned. ‘Hang tight, I’ll go see if Georgie has something you can wear, she’s about your size, though a bit taller of course.’

  Floorboards creaked as she went downstairs, and I dashed towards Red. ‘So you are here for a reason. Tell me. Tell me now,’ I urged. ‘Am I supposed to tell Greg something? What is it?’

  I stepped closer and she vanished with a swirl of colours left behind, until they too disappeared into the ether.

  ‘Red!’ Geez, right when I wanted to talk to her she goes MIA.

  ‘What?’ Lorena yelled from downstairs.

  Oops.

  If I was going to get through this weekend without telling my closest friends there was a ghost joining the bridal party, I’d have to try and keep my outbursts silent.