Soul Mate (Book One)

by Richard Crawford

  "Hi, good day?"

  "Not too bad." Suki gives a sort of relieved smile as she looks at me. I wonder if she expected to find me turned into a toad. "Hi, Tommy."

  I stand up and give her the rose. I'm not sure if this is the right moment but I feel a dick holding on to it with Jess watching.

  "Thanks." She smiles in a different way and I can tell she is pleased. "I'll get changed. I won't be long."

  I'm glad to hear it, grateful that I won't be trapped with Jess too much longer. But half a minute after Suki disappears to the back of the boat, Jess gets up to follow. I wonder if she's going to tell Suki that I'm a lying rat.

  I'm getting fed up with myself for being so paranoid. There's nothing I can do about Jess anyway so I sit there in a sort of daze as I won't be long turns into half an hour and then fifty minutes.

  Jess doesn't come back out.

  I'm pretty much a basket case by the time Suki appears. She looks gorgeous in a white blouse made of crinkly stuff that is sort of see through; she's wearing a beautiful jade necklace. I realise she's wearing jeans and I hope she's decided to dress down due to having low expectations for the night, rather than because she's decided she doesn't want to go anywhere with me and stuck her jeans on in preparation for an evening in, without me.

  I tell myself to get a grip, and stand up. "You look nice."

  "Thanks, shall we go?"

  "Yes," I sound really eager and it's partly because I'm desperate to get out of here before anything actually goes wrong.

  Jess has appeared and she's watching. I know she's laughing at me, but I'm grateful she hasn't put Suki off. I give her an awkward wave and follow Suki. Outside it's nearly dark. I feel like I've been on the boat for days and get a buzz of elation to have escaped. I remember what Jess said and my buzz dies.

  Then Suki slips her hand into mine and it's OK.

  In the end Suki chooses the restaurant, a little Italian place on one of the back streets that I don't know. Inside it's small and intimate, old fashioned with potted palms, mirrors on the walls, round tables with candles in glasses and rickety wooden chairs. The waiter smiles at Suki, as if he knows her, and gives us a nice corner table. I check out the menu and it's all good. Unless she eats enough for a party of five, I've got plenty of money to cover it. The next problem is the drinks, but Suki insists on joining me on Pepsi, after that ordering is quite easy.

  At first the conversation is all stop start, a bit awkward. I leave it to Suki mostly, waiting to see if she wants to jump straight into the inquisition, like Jess. But she doesn't. Instead she tells me a funny story about Simon. It's not nasty but it's like she's reassuring me and I feel better. But when I ask her about her art, she gets embarrassed and the conversation founders. I mention her mother and it gets even worse. We get back on track swapping stories about the cafe and the rickshaw business. Then the waiter delivers huge plates of spaghetti carbonara and garlic bread, so we wrestle with forks and spoons and don't talk for a while.

  Afterwards we can't quite get the mood back. I can't work out how to take Jess's advice. First off, I'm nervous because it is Jess's advice. Plus I can't straight out ask Suki why she freaked when I mentioned ghosts. I should tell her about the ghosts, but I can't find the right words. It's as if we both feel the pressure of things unsaid and it all goes quiet. Even the waiter seems to notice the change. He gives me a sideways look when he brings the coffee.

  The longer it goes on the worse it gets. The spaghetti sits in my stomach like concrete and I start to get a headache.

  Suki squirms about a bit and produces a ten-pound note. "We'll go halves," she says.

  "No." It comes out too sharp. I know she doesn't mean to make me feel like a loser, but I bet she wouldn't offer with Simon. "I've got it." It also makes me think she's keen to end the night.

  "Tommy, I'm sorry..."

  She apologises and I feel like a real shit. My head gets worse and suddenly I know it's not just a headache. It's the ghosts. I'm not surprised. Somehow it feels inevitable. I try to pretend I haven't noticed but that never works. And it's getting late. If I don't go soon things could get weird. But I can't just ditch Suki and I don't have time for sensible explanations. I don't know what to do. It's as if this isn't meant to be. Or maybe the ghosts won't let it happen.

  "Tommy?" Suki sounds worried. When I don't answer she reaches across the table and takes my hand. For a moment her fingers hold mine, then she lets go with a gasp and snatches her hand back.

  This gets my attention off my problems. We held hands walking through the park, she didn't freak out then. I wonder what I've done to her.

  "I'm sorry. Did I scratch you?" I stare at my hand. A few calluses but nothing too bad.

  She's looking at me funny. "Tommy, what was that?" she asks.

  I don't wear a watch. There's nothing that I can see that would've hurt her. I hold out my hand, palm up, to show here there's nothing there.

  "It's not your hand," she shivers and somehow without moving she is further away from me. "It's that feeling," she pauses. "Like when I touched you in the café only different." She shivers. "Worse."

  As soon as she says it, I know. I look at her and I blurt, "It's the ghosts." I wait for her to freak out. I stare at my hand and wait for her to shout at me.

  Nothing happens. Finally, I look up; she's still sitting there. She looks as upset as I feel. The flickering candles suddenly make the room seem creepy. I try to say something but no words come. The ghosts' pull is getting stronger with every moment. I just stare at her.

  She stares back, looking into my eyes as if she can find something there. Slowly she reaches across the table and takes my hand. When our fingers touch she gives a little gasp and almost flinches away. But after a moment's hesitation her hand slides into mine. Her fingers tighten. We both shiver.

  Her eyelids flutter closed. Long lashes curl across pale cheeks. Her lips are slightly parted. She frowns a little and for a moment I can sense her in my head. It sends the ghosts crazy. I bite back a moan of pain. A heartbeat later our hands jerk apart and I'm not sure what happened. I didn't move. I think it was the ghosts and that freaks me out.

  I stand up. Quickly I pull money from my pocket and drop it on the table.

  "Tommy?" She watches me, wide eyed, unbelieving.

  "Suki, I'm sorry." I try to find the right words but the pull from the ghosts is getting unbearable. It's never got like this so fast before. I can't make sense of anything. But I'm worried something bad will happen if I stay. Without thinking I'm backing away from her. "I'll come and find you as soon as I can." It's the last thing I say to her. I'm out of the door and running towards the old house.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The pull is so strong I have to run. If I slow down it feels as if it will rip me apart. Even when I gasp for breath the ghosts don't let up. It's like the house is a vacuum that sucks harder with every step. I reach the porch and it doesn't let up. I crash up the stairs into the ghosts' room. I fall on my knees, wheezing. My heart pounds double time and my head feels as if it's splitting apart. I close my eyes and stars spin in the darkness.

  The house creaks and moans, laughing at me. I'm scared. This is too much.

  I can't think straight. The damp chills the sweat on my skin. I shiver, still kneeling on the floor, alone in the dark. But I know I won't be alone for long. At this moment it's like I don't have a life; I'm just waiting for the ghosts.

  I don't see the ghosts but I know when they come. They find me quickly. I'm still panting for breath and there are two ghosts sliding into me before I even look up. I hit the floor face first as the ghost takes over; my body twitches among the rubbish as the ghost pushes me out. The ghost is light and quick, different somehow.

  The first ghost doesn't wait for sunrise. We jump up, on the move quicker than any ghost before. It's too quick; the ghost doesn't have control or balance. We stagger a couple of paces and nearly fall. We stick a hand out to catch the door but we miss and my head cracks hard a
gainst the wooden edge. It hurts like hell. Blood drips onto my cheek. But the ghost isn't bothered. We barge through the door and hurtle down the stairs. We go too fast and end up sprawled among the rubbish on the hall floor. I don't understand what's going on. The ghost doesn't seem to notice that we fell.

  My head hurts. I want the ghost to take a moment, get its shit together. But it won't wait. This is a weird, fearless ghost. We get up and scramble on all fours, scooting under the front door.

  Outside the night is dark; dawn is still a long way off; a breeze rattles the chain fence. Close by, cats yowl and hiss among the weeds.

  We come to a dead stop. I fee a wash of panic as the ghost stares into the darkness. The ghost gives a whimper and backs up a pace. We stand on the porch staring into the night. The nearest streetlight is a couple of hundred yards away; it's hidden behind tree branches that throw grotesque shadows. The ghost looks to the light. All I can feel is fear. The ghost has no clue. My teeth bite down on my lip and chew. After a while the ghost creeps down the steps and off the porch. And still there's only fear.

  The ghost stops by the chain fence. Our fingers clutch the gate. The feeling of terror builds inside me and I know it is the ghost. Fear of the dark, it makes no sense. I don't know what to do.

  The ghost sobs a word. "Mummy?"

  I hear the terror in my voice, the fear of a little kid alone in the dark. The ghost is a kid. The shock of it sends me to my knees. A kid. That's never happened before. What would bring a little kid back like this?

  Minutes pass: me and the ghost, alone in the dark, and neither of us can cope with what's happening. The ghost starts to sob and I feel a wetness in my jeans. The poor little kid is terrified. I don't know why but I think it's a little boy. The ghost is sobbing so hard we get breathless, it makes the kid's panic worse and there's nothing I can do. I try but it's hopeless. I can't reach the ghosts.

  We sit among the weeds and the ghost sobs. In between sobs the ghost tries to speak. I can't understand what we're trying to say. Then the ghost sobs out a name, "Laurie." The ghost repeats it over and over. "Laurie…. Laurie…Laurie."

  Something happens with the ghost, my body jerks and spasms. I end up lying on my back in the weeds. For a moment I think the little boy is gone, but then I realise there are two ghosts. It's weird and we just lie there until the second ghost takes charge. The first ghost is still in me, the little kid. We stand up and stare around. The feeling is not that much different. Another kid, a little bit older. Laurie?

  Then I can hear her inside my head, telling Joe not to worry. We go out the gate; I can tell Laurie's afraid but I can tell she's determined not to let it show. Big sister? We head down the street. I try to stay calm, hoping that somehow it will help. But it's hard. I can't imagine what these kids are here for, alone in the middle of the night. I can't see anything good happening.

  We walk for ages. I think the kids get lost. I tell myself not to think of them as kids. I have to remember they are ghosts, just like all the others. All the ones I didn't care about. All the ones I was just waiting to get rid of. But it's not that simple anymore. There's Mrs E. And there's Danny. And now this.

  Finally we come to a stop in front of a house with a blue front door. Number 115, Brakes Road, it's a family house. We walk down the path and stand outside. The ghosts wait. It's as if they expect something to happen but I don't understand what.

  Laurie knocks at the door. I can't do anything to stop her. It's the middle of the night. All the lights are off. We knock again. I try hard to reach Laurie and Joe, to tell them they can't do this. It won't work, their mummy won't understand. I don't even know if they still have a mummy, but why else would they be here? I think of other reasons and get a terrible sick feeling. I don't know if it's me or the ghosts.

  I try to ask the ghosts what they want. I tell them I'll help if I can. But the ghosts don't hear me. We keep knocking at the door. After a while a light goes on upstairs. A curtain twitches back and the window opens. A woman looks out. She's young with short, mussed up brown hair and dark circles under her eyes. She's blinking from the light. It looks like she just got out of bed; she's wearing a robe pulled half on over a yellow nightdress.

  The ghosts say, "Mummy." It comes out as a whisper but I get this feeling of relief.

  I don't think the woman hears us.

  We shouldn't be here. I think the ghosts know it but they don't move. We look up at the woman. She looks angry, a bit afraid to see a strange man on her doorstep.

  "What do you want?" she asks. "It's the middle of the night."

  The ghosts say, "Mummy," again. But I don't think she hears, or she doesn't want to believe some crazy guy is standing on her doorstep in the middle of the night saying mummy.

  "Go away!" Her voice breaks, like this is too much. Maybe she did hear something, got a feeling like people do when they hear the ghosts say their names. "Go away," she says. "Or I'll call the police." She slams the window closed. I think she's crying, perhaps she's wondering why something else bad has to happen to her.

  This is so bad. I can't begin to guess what's happened here, but she didn't call for anyone to help her. I wonder if she is on her own. I wonder what happened to their dad. I know what the ghosts want but they can't have their mummy back, it can't be what they're here for. I try to get them to move before she does call the police. But we just stand there. The ghosts feel numb, but they don't leave me so I know it's not done. It doesn't help that I'm probably as scared as they are. This all feels so different to the normal ghosts. I just can't imagine what unfinished business these kids have. And even if I knew I'd have no way to help them.

  Joe whimpers a bit and I can tell his fear is spiralling so he's almost taking over from Laurie. He doesn't understand what's happening. Laurie tries to comfort him but she doesn't know what to do. She came home; I figure there was nothing else she could do.

  The ghosts know we're in trouble, but they know it the way kids do, they don't understand why. Very quietly we creep away from the front door and head round to the back garden. There's a swing and slide setup on the grass. I hope their mum's not watching. I don't want to freak her out.

  We go and sit on the swing. The little ghost is sobbing but Laurie keeps him quiet. There's a rabbit hutch in the corner of the garden and we go and take the rabbit out. Laurie calls it Snowy. She pets it for a while and then puts it back. Little Joe has stopped sobbing but I can still sense his fear.

  After a while, it's like I feel something pull at the ghosts. We go out of the garden, past the brand new car sitting in the drive. We start walking through the estate towards the ring road. The ghosts don't hesitate. There's a wide footpath and cycleway beside the dual carriageway and we walk along this beside the busy road. It's late but there are still quite a few cars whizzing by. Both the kids are scared but something's still pulling at them and we just keep walking. There are no houses close by, just weeds, trees and tall lampposts. I can't work out what's going on. We stop.

  We're standing by a lamppost with a bunch of withered flowers tied to it. There are more bunches of flowers on the ground. And a teddy bear. Oh, God.

  We stand and stare at the dead flowers. Then we lurch forward. I think it's Joe. He grabs up the teddy bear. He holds it for a moment. Laurie is pushed back somehow. Joe starts to howl. It's not like crying. We howl like an animal, so hard it hurts my throat. And I don't think we're ever going to stop.

  I don't know how long we howl like that for. The kids' fear has taken over everything. I can't even think. It ends suddenly. I feel as if something slammed into me. I'm thrown through the air a couple of yards and fall among the weeds. For a moment I think we've been hit by a car. But then I realise the kids are gone. I think I sense another ghost, but before I can be sure it's gone too and I'm alone. I try to stand up but my head explodes with pain and I'm facedown in the weeds again. For a moment I can see the teddy bear lying just in front of my eyes. Then I don't see anything.

  ####

 
When I come round it's daylight but really early. The sun's a huge red ball on the horizon. I feel as if I have fifty hangovers, and I can't even remember last night. What happened? I close my eyes and lay still, trying to remember but nothing comes to me.

  I open my eyes and the first thing I see is a teddy bear. My heart thuds at the sight of it; everything comes back in a rush of memory and sensation. Too much. I lurch to my knees and puke. I keep throwing up until there's nothing left and my stomach just heaves.

  I flop back in the weeds and lay there, like road kill.

  I guess I pass out or fall asleep because when I wake up again cars and lorries thunder by. I stop myself from looking at the teddy bear. I sit up and stare around. It looks like mid morning traffic. I don't let myself think about last night and the kids. There's just something so wrong about what happened and I can't face it. I concentrate on the road. It would be nose to tail in the rush hour. I try to work out why this matters. It takes a minute because my brain feels like porridge and it keeps veering back to the kids like a car with a flat tyre.

  I realise I'm late for work. It takes another while for this to sink in. If I don't show again Ally will want me gone. I know I should care but I can't find any interest. But I can't stay here. It's impossible not to think about the kids while I'm here, where it happened. I think of Suki. I remember last night. She's the only person who might understand. She's the reason why the other things matter.

  I try to stand up. It takes me a couple of goes but I get on my feet. The cars keep whizzing by. No one stops. I guess I can't really blame them.

  The teddy bear is lying among the weeds. I can't leave it there. Slowly I bend down and pick it up. I prop it against the lamppost by the withered flowers in their plastic wrappers. The bear stares up at me, accusingly. It takes some effort to look away from its beady eyes.