Ghostwriting

by Traci Harding

  Change the name of the house! Tim and Katlin announced at once, laughing as they waved farewell and darkness fell.

  Suddenly, Shannon was very aware of being alone and in the middle of a gravesite. ‘Thanks guys,’ she whispered ahead of making for the gate in haste.

  7. Banishing the Heart

  The next morning Shannon awoke on the floor in front of the fire in Sean’s lounge room. The fire had gone out, but as she was snuggled in front of Sean and a large fluffy blanket covered them, Shannon didn’t lack for warmth.

  They were fully dressed under their cover; nothing more than a kiss and a cuddle had taken place between them, although these brief interludes had proven the most inspiring moments in an evening that was filled with magic tales and intrigue. The relationship could have progressed further, and clearly they had wanted it to, but as they were both aware of Shannon’s imminent departure, neither wanted to put the other in an awkward predicament. And besides, they hadn’t stopped talking long enough to get more intimate.

  Billie hadn’t showed up yet and Shannon hoped her friend hadn’t assumed too much and racked off to Australia without her. She removed Sean’s hand from her thigh, where it had been perched all night, and managed to slide out from underneath the cover without waking him.

  Out through the windows at the front of the house, Shannon spied the hire car. Billie was not inside, however.

  ‘The grave.’ Shannon rugged up and headed outdoors.

  In the cemetery, Billie was planting flowers. She’d covered the gravesites of the lovers with two colourful flowerbeds that met in the middle.

  ‘Oh, Billie!’ For some reason her friend’s sentimental gesture moved Shannon to tears. ‘What a beautiful thought.’

  Billie pretended not to notice how over-emotional Shannon was this morning, for it had been expected. ‘Katlin liked it,’ she commented to Shannon, though remaining intent on her chore.

  ‘You’ve been chatting with Katlin then, have you?’ Shannon queried playfully, fully expecting that Billie was bullshitting her.

  ‘Yep,’ she glanced up at Shannon. ‘Katlin gave me a message for you.’

  ‘Did she now?’ Shannon tried not to sound sceptical, figuring that if she had a message for her, Katlin would have mentioned it yesterday.

  Billie nodded, squinting to look at her friend, who was standing before the rising sun. ‘Katlin said you have to find a way back here, to Ireland.’

  Shannon rolled her eyes, thinking Billie was now surely playing games, and so she moved on to more important issues. ‘Well, yesterday Katlin told me how we get rid of Heartley —’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Billie waved off the information. ‘Katlin told me her three-point plan, too.’

  Shannon was shocked to her foundations. ‘You have spoken with Katlin.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Billie stressed. ‘Didn’t I just say that?’

  Words escaped Shannon for a moment. Were even the ghosts out to torment her about Sean now?

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Billie stood, having completed her gardening. ‘You think I’m playing cupid and that I’m bullshitting you about Kat?’

  Shannon nodded, considering that half of the statement was probably true.

  ‘All I did was piss off yesterday,’ Billie reminded her. ‘I didn’t tell you to get all cuddly with the guy. Do you think you’re just imagining how perfect he is for you? When even an unsentimental bitch like me can see you were meant for each other?’

  ‘How can you say that,’ Shannon blurted out the question with a good serve of anger accompanying it, ‘when my work is on the opposite side of the world to his?’

  Billie just served Shannon a cool stare. ‘Get over it, babe. You could work around it if you wanted to.’ Billie shook her head at her friend’s pathetic protest and cast off her gardening gloves. ‘That’s the other thing Katlin said to tell you … “to obtain the things we truly love in life, we just have to work and wish a little fucking harder.”’ Billie headed for the house, annoyed that her friend could be so nonchalant about the fact she was falling in love. ‘I need some coffee … and a cigarette!’

  ‘No, Bill, please,’ Shannon appealed to her friend, ‘not until we see to Heartley.’

  ‘I said I needed coffee and a smoke. I didn’t say I was going to have them.’ Billie turned back, forcing a smile as she held her hands up in truce. ‘Juice will do for now.’

  Shannon knew why Billie was perturbed. Neither one of them had been highly successful on the love front, and now here Shannon was passing up what could be her only decent crack at it. But Shannon’s work had been her primary desire for so long that it was scary to think of being divided between loves. Another day in Sean’s company and it would be impossible to make the choice between him and her career — she had to leave Ireland, and quickly.

  All the way home Shannon’s thoughts lingered on the loveliness of the countryside she’d left behind. She hadn’t really taken the time to admire the lush, misty hills, the wild sea and the tall groves of trees during her stay, but now that she was headed back to Sydney, the enchanting landscape of Ireland played on her mind.

  Anything to keep her from thinking about Sean and what he must have thought of their rather hasty farewell. Shannon had given him her phone number in Australia, in case he wanted to visit or just have a chat, but after the beautiful evening he had shown her, it seemed a rather inadequate thank you.

  The business of taking care of Heartley kept the conversation off affairs of the heart and when the girls landed in Australia, they took their information straight to Simon, who was still residing at Billie’s place in the city.

  Billie’s apartment was so spotlessly clean that it was barely recognisable, and Simon appeared much improved.

  ‘Well, perhaps I won’t have to sell after all,’ he concluded, upon hearing Billie and Shannon’s continuing ghostly tale and the solution to his problem contained therein. ‘I’ve always thought the pool-house would make a fine greenhouse,’ he decided flippantly. ‘Better still, pull the whole thing down and put in a tennis court.’

  ‘Do you know where Heartley is buried?’ Shannon quizzed.

  ‘I should. It’s marked by a bloody huge headstone.’ Simon clicked his fingers. ‘And … as I doubt we’ll get a priest on to my property, my psychic friends might be able to help us with a banishing ritual.’

  ‘It has to be beautiful,’ Shannon reminded him, although Billie appeared disturbed by Katlin’s request.

  ‘And so shall it be,’ Simon promised.

  A couple of weeks of surfing every morning, and chasing up productions to work on, didn’t make the memory of Sean go away. It seemed he haunted Shannon more now than when she’d first arrived home.

  In the car on the way up to Simon’s place, Shannon didn’t mention Sean. In fact, she didn’t speak much at all.

  Simon drove up with them and, dying to see the progress that the builders had made on his new tennis court, he kept the conversation flowing, talking about his plans and concerns. Simon was also nursing a new sign for his house that read ‘Wexford B&B’, which he planned to hang as soon as the ritual was completed.

  Upon arrival at the house and to Simon’s great relief, the damage to both his grounds, where the tennis court was having turf laid, and the interior of his house, trashed by Heartley, was minimal. Simon wouldn’t venture inside to investigate, however. He took Billie’s word for it.

  A purple stretch limousine entered the drive and eventually stopped in front of the house. Billie and Shannon stood gaping as Simon urged the young, male chauffeur to open the door.

  ‘Isis! Jupiter! How wonderful of you to come,’ Simon exclaimed, as the chauffeur performed his duty and Simon greeted his guests.

  A middle-aged couple emerged from the car, playing up their regal airs and graces. They were both attired in outlandish outfits made of satin and lace, that were both olde-worlde and yet modern and expensive at the same time. Isis’ outfit was entirely purple, Jupiter’s outfit entirely orange, a
nd together they appeared incredibly exotic.

  ‘I’ve been telling you to put to rest the spirits in this house for ages, Simon,’ the silver-haired woman told him as she held Simon at arm’s length, before kissing both his cheeks. ‘I had to come and meet these wonderful girls of yours.’

  As Isis’ eyes turned to Shannon and Billie, the girls looked at each other, sceptical of the psychic help Simon had hired.

  ‘Oh, I know how I must look to you both,’ Isis eyed the little hippie and the body builder as she approached, ‘and I wouldn’t expect either of you fiery angels to bear witness to this event without proof of my capabilities.’ She beckoned the two young women to accompany her on a little walk.

  Intrigued, the girls followed.

  Isis came to a stop once they were out of the earshot of the two men. The psychic turned to her sceptics and said with a smile, ‘I have a message for you.’ She directed her comments to Shannon. ‘You have to find a way back to Ireland, for to obtain the things you truly love in life you just have to work and wish a little harder.’

  Both women’s jaws dropped.

  ‘That’s word for word almost.’ Shannon turned to Billie and hit her in the shoulder. ‘You told Simon about that!’

  ‘No, I did not!’ Billie reared up, insulted by the accusation, and looked at Isis, wary and annoyed with her. ‘I don’t know how she knows, but it didn’t come from me or Simon.’

  ‘That’s why I brought you both aside, as I was told that this information was for you two alone,’ Isis began explaining, but Billie interrupted.

  ‘Told by whom?’

  ‘I simply asked my spirit guides for a piece of information that would validate my expertise in your eyes,’ Isis said, but Billie began shaking her head to let the psychic know she wasn’t buying it.

  ‘She must be legit, Billie,’ Shannon reasoned. ‘If you didn’t tell Simon about Sean —’

  ‘Who is Sean?’ Isis asked, but came up with an answer before Billie or Shannon could reply. ‘Your future husband.’ Isis clicked her fingers in Shannon’s direction.

  Shannon was completely floored by her claim; the extent of the conspiracy to make her feel guilty about Sean was unbelievable.

  ‘That’s a pretty standard guess,’ Billie scoffed.

  ‘You want to know more about him?’ Isis posed her challenge and although Billie wasn’t interested, Shannon jumped at the chance.

  ‘Go ahead, we’re listening.’

  ‘He’s a farmer,’ she began. ‘He is also very psychic and has an interest in the paranormal. He feels ostracised by those around him because of this.’ Isis gave a funny little chuckle, obviously relating to that plight. ‘He has a deep love of music and plays the fiddle.’

  ‘Does he?’ Shannon was delighted by the insight. ‘Come to think of it, I think he did mention something about having a string fixed on his instrument.’

  Isis closed her eyes as she nodded and smiled, caught up in Shannon’s enchantment. ‘All you have to do is know what you want, child,’ she informed Shannon gently and then took up her hand and held it tight as if to instil in Shannon a sacred creed. ‘You don’t have to figure out how to make what you desire come to pass, neither do you have to worry about how you will fit this new man in around the rest of your life. All you have to know is that you want this man and that your career will not suffer for your love. In fact, it will prosper.’

  Shannon choked on a lump wedged in her throat, for this woman knew her silent torment. ‘Will my career prosper?’ She asked, desperation sneaking into her query.

  Isis shrugged. ‘If that is your will … it’s entirely up to you, or rather, your attitude. A few months ago you didn’t believe in ghosts. If you can embrace your own personal power as you have embraced your psychic knowledge, then …’ she gave a firm nod to reinforce her belief, ‘… a few months from now you will believe in true love.’

  Shannon couldn’t prevent tears from welling, and glancing at Billie she noted that she was teary, too, for Isis’ claims rang so true. ‘How can you be so sure about the future?’ This was more an admiring statement than a question.

  Again Isis shrugged. ‘It is easy to be blasé about the future once you realise that you create it.’ Isis smiled. ‘In my reality, for example, I know that you get the man and go on to great heights of success with your career. Is that what happens in your reality? We’ll see.’

  Both Billie and Shannon had silent tears streaming down their faces now. ‘You make it sound so simple,’ Shannon wheezed and gave a sniffle, rummaging in her pocket for a tissue.

  ‘It is that simple.’ Isis emphasised the fact. ‘You have a strong will, as does this one,’ and she motioned to Billie who was looking a little more convinced with regard to Isis’ gifts. ‘Know what you want and your will shall grant your every wish in life … good or bad, unfortunately.’ The psychic gasped suddenly, which startled both Billie and Shannon. ‘Oh dear.’ Isis looked about her warily and then to the house.

  ‘What is it?’ Shannon began looking around also, although she had no idea what she was searching for.

  ‘Heartley’s spirit was at large when the porthole in the pool was sealed,’ she informed them.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Billie challenged. Then all the hairs on Billie’s arms and neck suddenly stood on end and she shivered as a cold rush of energy brushed past her. ‘Oh, crap, not again.’ She moved closer to Isis, suddenly very glad to have her on the team.

  ‘Time for games is at an end.’ Isis ushered them toward her car. ‘We’ll discuss our strategy inside.’

  ‘But I’ve seen Heartley get inside a car before,’ Billie stated for the record.

  ‘He won’t get inside this car.’ The psychic’s smile was very reassuring.

  Midnight was the hour the ritual would take place, for this was the time of day for banishing magic to be performed. Isis had nominated the date for the ritual, as it was a waning moon and thus the time of the month for letting go of things.

  At present a north wind was blowing, which aided any ritual involving the finishing, closing and separating of things. A west wind would also suit their purpose, for with it came an energy of cleansing and purification, love and gentleness. As an east wind brought new beginnings, change, intellect and communication, and the south wind promoted fire, passion and strength, these were both unsuitable: if the wind changed in either of these directions before they’d finished the ritual, it would have to be postponed to another day.

  Between dusk and midnight they remained in the car, picking at a beautiful spread of finger food that Isis had brought along, as the psychic discussed what would unfold come the midnight hour.

  All was quiet within the house until well after dark, when all of a sudden, every light in the house came on, and began flickering on and off in unison.

  ‘Oh, shit!’ Simon wanted to hide.

  ‘Ignore it,’ Isis instructed, paying the occurrence no heed herself. ‘He’s just trying to intimidate us.’

  ‘Well, it’s working,’ Simon muttered, and as he did, the front door of the house opened.

  Out flew a lamp fixture, still flickering with light despite the fact that it was no longer connected to a power source. The heavy item was on a collision course with the car.

  Simon, expecting the window to shatter on impact, ducked.

  A metre from its target, an unseen force surrounding the car repelled the lamp which began circling the vehicle.

  ‘What the hell happened there?’ Billie couldn’t believe her eyes.

  Isis was tickled by the warrior woman’s wonder. ‘All of life is but an interplay of energy and atoms.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Billie, not wanting to seem thick. What the fuck does that mean?

  ‘Here.’ Isis pulled out, from a compartment in the car door, a collection of small purple satin pouches on long purple cords, which smelt heavenly. ‘These are amulets, or spells if you like, that will protect you from any evil intent Heartley may try to inflict upon you. Breat
he deep the healing aroma, for it will cleanse your spirit and thus you shall be protected.’ Isis placed one of the cords over Billie’s head so that the pouch hung down over her heart. ‘These are especially important for you two,’ she informed Billie and Shannon, ‘because you are both so highly psychic yourselves and therefore susceptible to attack.’

  Billie had a chuckle at this, thinking the psychic was exaggerating as far as Billie herself was concerned.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Isis queried in all seriousness. ‘In a few years you’ll be making a very good living from the craft.’

  ‘Bullshit!’ Billie’s smile was so broad that she couldn’t wipe it from her face, and was stunned to discover that she wanted to believe Isis. This little adventure had helped her to discover a whole new depth to life and she tried to imagine what a lifetime of such pursuits would do for the soul. She’d never even believed she had a soul before now.

  ‘It’s up to you, Billie,’ Isis replied, as she finished handing out the amulets.

  ‘Doesn’t Jupiter get one?’ Billie noticed he’d been bypassed.

  Jupiter, being a mute, smiled at her concern and shook his head.

  ‘He is our channel,’ Isis explained on her partner’s behalf. ‘He shall draw Heartley back to the grave where his spirit belongs.’

  At a quarter of the hour to midnight the party prepared to venture out.

  The lamp had been joined in its flight around their vehicle by several household items, including a large metal toaster that Simon didn’t fancy copping in the head.

  ‘Trust me, my sweet,’ Isis appealed to Simon, her hand perched on the door handle. ‘He cannot harm you. He will try to frighten you, but it is an illusion. You make it real by believing Heartley’s deception.’

  ‘Then by rights,’ Shannon reasoned, ‘are we not reinforcing Heartley’s power by performing a ritual, as the act acknowledges his existence.’