Half Life

by Heather Atkinson

  “I can’t. I don’t have the energy to go so far. It was one of my favourite places too,” I end sadly.

  “Could you take some energy from me?”

  I’m amazed by her generosity. “That is very good of you but it would make you very tired.”

  “As long as you leave me enough to get back to the house I don’t mind. I’ve nothing planned for today anyway.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “Absolutely. Come on.”

  We walk out into the garden and the heavenly sound of the sea drifts towards us. As we approach the boundary marking the edge of the garden I feel myself weaken. Looking down at my hands I’m almost transparent.

  “Here,” she says, taking my hand and instantly I feel stronger.

  We leave the garden and reach the steps leading down to the beach and I stare at the sea below, so excited I feel like a boy again. The gentle break of the waves on the shore is music to my ears.

  “I never thought I’d come here again,” I say, awestruck.

  “Yes, it is very beautiful,” she replies quietly.

  We descend the steps, lay out the picnic blanket on the sand and sit beside one another. We’re still holding hands; I daren’t let go even for a moment for fear of what will happen and not all the excitement I’m feeling is due to the close proximity of the water.

  “Thank you Kate. You can’t know what this means to me.”

  “You’re welcome,” she smiles.

  I see her eyes are growing heavy. “Tired already?”

  “Just a bit.”

  “We can go back if you want?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Come here,” I say softly.

  She rests her head on my shoulder and I wrap an arm around her. I feel blessed. Here I am sat on this stunning beach gazing out at the sea, a beautiful woman beside me. I feel alive again.

  I don’t want this moment to end but half an hour later she’s barely awake. So with the blanket in one hand and the other supporting Kate we walk back to the house. But she’s so depleted she can’t make it up the steps so I scoop her up in my arms and carry her the rest of the way. She nuzzles into my chest and if my heart could beat it would be going ten to the dozen right now. Her hair smells of coconut and I drink it in.

  I lay her back on the couch and sit beside her, careful not to touch her so she can regain some strength.

  “Get some sleep Kate. You’ll feel much better,” I say softly.

  Those lovely wide eyes flicker open and she smiles before they slide shut again.

  “Thank you Kate,” I whisper, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead but she doesn’t feel it because she’s already asleep.

  Feeling alive and happy I settle down in the armchair with a book but I hardly regard the pages because I can’t keep my eyes off her. Oh no, I can’t think like this, it can never be. She needs a man who can give her everything, who can take her out, buy her things, give her children.

  I sigh impatiently and cast the book aside. The memory of my own life cut so short before it had really begun torments me. I’d never loved Clara, I’d married her because my family insisted on it and Kate has made me realise what I’ve missed out on. It’s so tragic that I’m only really starting to live now that I’m dead.

  Kate sleeps three hours before she’s rudely woken by a loud banging on the door. She jumps awake and stares at me.

  “Nothing to do with me,” I say.

  “Kate, open up,” yells a man’s voice.

  “I don’t believe it,” she gasps.

  “Who is it?”

  “Michael, my ex-fiancé.” She looks angry, defiant and a little scared all at once.

  “Open up Kate, I know you’re in there.”

  She gets up and stares at the door reluctantly.

  “I wont let him hurt you,” I tell her determinedly.

  “I know,” she replies.

  Her eyes fill with that steel I saw so many times during our feud and she yanks the door open to reveal the man in the photograph, only now he‘s very red in the face. I make myself invisible but remain in the corner of the room, should my assistance be required.

  “What do you want?” she demands coolly, one eyebrow arched and I can’t help but smile. Magnificent.

  “My Stenenstaum,” he practically snarls.

  “Bless you.”

  “Don’t mess about you bitch. I know you took my sculpture and I want it back. Now.”

  “Why would I take that thing? It’s hideous. I used to think you only bought it to annoy me.”

  “You always did like to make everything about you. Where is it?”

  “I repeat, I haven’t got it.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  She shrugs. “I don‘t care what you believe.”

  “If you don’t give it back right now I’ll call the police and have them take it back.”

  “Call whoever you like.”

  She tries to shut the door in his face but he sticks his foot in it. He’s a big man and with one shove it flies open and she staggers backwards. He steps inside and slams the door shut behind him. Not once does Kate’s cool demeanour slip and she folds her arms across her chest rebelliously.

  “If you don’t get out of here right now Michael I’ll be the one calling the police.”

  He looks around approvingly. “This is a nice house. How would you like me to take it from you, like I took everything else?”

  “You can’t do that.”

  “I can. Give me back my sculpture and I might let you keep it.”

  She looks furious. “Sod off you arrogant prick.”

  He grabs her by the shoulders, fingers digging into her flesh painfully. I’m filled with fury that he’s hurting this beautiful brave woman so I grab his jacket and drag him backwards. He releases Kate and stumbles away from her.

  “What’s going on? Who did that?” he demands, whipping round but of course he can’t see me.

  “Did you know this house is haunted Michael? The ghost doesn’t like you hurting me,” she snarls.

  “Ghost?” he laughs. “You’ve lost the plot since you left the city.”

  Incensed I stand before him and he looks through me, still jeering at Kate and I shove him roughly. This time he falls over onto his behind.

  “Who do you think did that then? I’m warning you Michael, you should leave. Right now.”

  “No, there must be some other explanation, some trick,” he says although his eyes are filled with uncertainty.

  “No trick,” she says maliciously. “Leave, while you still can.”

  “Get out,” I bellow at him in my deepest scariest voice.

  This has the desired effect. He scrabbles to his feet and races for the door. Before he leaves he pauses.

  “This isn’t over Kate.”

  In response I grab some books off a shelf and hurl them at him. With a girlish scream he ducks out the door and races down the path to his big metal beast, jumps inside and speeds off.

  I turn my attention to Kate, who despite her bravado looks rather shaken. “Are you alright?”

  “Yes, thanks to you. One thing I never liked about him was his aggression.”

  She’s shaking rather violently so after closing the door I hug her, delighted when I feel her arms go around my waist.

  “He was my boss at the newspaper,” she begins. “He was a good man once but over the years he became cold and cruel. When he met a pert blond twenty three year old girl who wanted to be a journalist he gave her my job and kicked me out the door. I fought him through the courts but everyone at the office took his side. I can‘t really say I blame them because if they hadn‘t they would have lost their jobs too.”

  This is the first time she’s told me what happened and I’m pleased she’s opened up to me.

  “You’re better off without him.”

  “I know. I’m so glad it’s over.” She smiles up at me. “What would I do without you?”

  “No, it’s you whose
saved me Kate. Before you I was a willow-the-wisp, a nothing. Now I am alive.”

  The next thing I know her lips are against mine and it’s marvellous. She feels so gloriously warm and wonderful. When it eventually ends she remains in my arms. All the fear and pain Michael’s appearance caused her has disappeared from her eyes, which are now light and playful.

  “I can’t believe I just kissed a ghost,” she smiles.

  “I didn’t know such a thing was possible,” I reply, absolutely stunned. This woman has an infinite capacity to surprise. “I hope I didn’t feel too cold?”

  “Not cold exactly, more tingly. It was nice,” she says demurely.

  “You are astonishing Kate. You’ve just kissed a dead man and you’re not in the least disturbed by it.”

  “That’s not how I see you Tom. You’re one of the truest friends I’ve ever had and you’re very important to me.”

  I feel as though I could cry but hold the emotion back manfully. No one has ever said anything like this to me before. For the first time ever I feel valued. We kiss again and it’s even better. Then we pull away and laugh nervously.

  “I’m feeling very weak,” she says.

  “I must be drawing on your energy to kiss you.”

  “It’s worth it,” she says, pressing her lips to mine once more.

  This time it lasts longer, becomes more passionate. Then she sags against me, considerably weakened. I lead her to the couch and we cuddle up together to watch our show on the television, after which she’s sufficiently recovered.

  We lock in another embrace, passion blazing like a flame. Desire courses through me, something I never really experienced with my wife. Unfortunately each kiss drains her of a little more strength and we have to break apart.

  “Let me try something,” I say.

  Closing my eyes I concentrate on every electrical appliance in the house, taking the onus off Kate. So when we kiss again I draw from the electrical sources. Her tongue slips into my mouth and I groan and press her back into the couch. I feel her hands on my back, warm and pulsating with life. As the passion increases the appliances go haywire. The television switches itself on and races up and down the channels, Beethoven once more erupts from the stereo, the microwave and blender whirr into life in the kitchen and the lights frantically flicker on and off.

  Kate looks up at me breathless. “Wow.”

  She looks divine with her clothes and hair mussed up and cheeks flushed. Then I recall myself and hastily sit up.

  “What’s wrong?” she says, sitting up with me.

  “Please accept my apologies. I got so caught up in the moment that I dishonoured you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re unmarried. I should never have touched you like that. I am appalled with myself.”

  She appears amused. “Things have changed Tom. You don’t have to be married to share a kiss, or more.”

  “You mean people have relations freely?” I say, shocked.

  “Yes. I thought you would have gathered that from watching our favourite show?”

  “I assumed that was all make believe,” I say slowly, attempting to come to terms with this shocking information. “So I haven’t dishonoured you?”

  “You are so sweet,” she smiles, taking my hand. “And no you haven’t.”

  “Then that is all that matters.”

  Shortly after Michael’s departure two police officers turn up asking if they can search the house for the hideous sculpture. Kate had it removed by some scrap metal merchant days ago so she lets them in and offers them tea, which they pleasantly decline. I follow them through the house, breathing down their necks and sensing my presence they make a hasty search before leaving, assuring Kate she has nothing to worry about.

  From then on we grow even closer, spending most of our time together. It starts to feel as though we’re a real couple. I see her off in the morning with a kiss and she returns and we kiss again and talk about what we‘ve got up to in the interim. We spend the evenings curled up together, talking. It’s just so wonderfully peaceful and incredibly fulfilling.

  The only thing that spoils it are the incessant phone calls from Michael. Sometimes there’s just silence on the other end but the majority of the time he spews a torrent of abuse and filth at her and she hangs up, red faced with rage and fear. She complains to the authorities but as the calls can’t directly be traced to him there’s nothing anyone can do. She changes her number twice but somehow he always manages to find it out and the calls continue. When the fear starts to get the best of her I assure her that she will always be safe in this house and she feels better.

  Soon a whole new level of intimacy opens up between us and she finally asks the question I know is inevitable.

  “Tom?” she says one night when we’re cuddled up together on the couch.

  “Yes?”

  “Did you jump off that balcony?”

  “No.”

  “I’m glad. I’d hate to think of you so unhappy that you were forced to do that.”

  “I was thrown off it.”

  She sits bolt upright, surprise written all over her face. “By who?”

  “Clara’s lover and his friend.”

  “Clara, your wife?”

  “The very same. I‘d just woken from a nap, I‘d been working very late the night before, consequently I was exhausted. I was stood on the balcony enjoying some fresh air and the view of the sea when the three of them entered. I fought back but I didn’t really stand a chance; the lover and his friend were both much more solidly built than myself and threw me over as though I was a rag doll.”

  “But that’s terrible. Everyone said how in love you and Clara were.”

  I give a derisive snort. “We despised each other. Our families desired the match, not us. Clara was beautiful but she was an evil grasping witch too. She wanted my house and my money and she got it. I think that’s one reason I’m still here. I returned to haunt her so she could never enjoy this house. It worked because I drove her to near madness and she packed up and left. My brother moved in here after she‘d gone and from eavesdropping on his conversations with my parents I learnt that Clara‘s lover abandoned her in Italy, taking all her money with him.”

  “Did anyone suspect what she’d done?”

  “I’m certain my family did but they never did anything about it. Too afraid of a scandal you see.”

  “Did you have any children?”

  “I thought you would have researched all this already. It’s in your nature.”

  “I was tempted but I wanted you to tell me yourself.”

  “Thank you,” I say, kissing the tip of her nose. “I appreciate that. No we didn’t. We’d only been married a few months when I died.”

  “How old were you when you died?”

  “Thirty three.”

  “So young. It’s not right,” she scowls. One thing I love about her is her righteous sense of injustice. “So you never loved her?”

  “No.”

  What is that in her eyes, relief? She rests her head on my shoulder.

  “Tom?” she says, breaking the contemplative silence again.

  “Yes?” I smile.

  “Did it hurt?”

  I recall that awful moment, as though it was just yesterday. “I remember a brief moment of pain but nothing too awful. I think I must have died instantly. I was very confused afterwards, it took me a while to realise what had happened. I just stood staring at my broken twisted body trying to understand. I went back into the house and saw Clara with her lover, some pasty-faced conman with a pencil moustache and their friend drinking champagne and toasting my demise.”

  “The evil bastards,” she seethes.

  “Very much so but rest assured, I did pay Clara back in a way no court of law ever could.”

  “Good,” she glowers, nestling into me.

  Our peace is disturbed by a knock at the door.

  Kate gives me an apologetic look then gets up to open it. />
  “Sally,” she smiles.

  I sigh and retreat to a corner of the room as Sally enters with her husband and a tall, sickeningly handsome man with dark hair and eyes and shockingly white teeth. Kate seems surprised to see him.

  “Kate,” says Sally with a knowing smile and instantly I divine the reason for this visit. “This is Nick.”

  “Hello,” says Kate politely.

  “Hi,” he replies, giving her a dazzling smile.

  “Nick works with Simon at the office,” continues Sally.

  “Oh really,” replies Kate. “So you’re a solicitor too?”

  “Junior partner,” Nick says with an annoying easy confidence.

  “Kate’s a journalist,” continues Sally and I want her to shut up. “She’s freelance so she can pick and choose her work.”

  “Sounds great. I’d love to have such freedom,” smiles Nick.

  “Yes it is very convenient,” replies Kate pleasantly. “Can I get anyone a drink?”

  After she’s taken their orders she heads into the kitchen and Nick’s eyes watch her go hungrily.

  I follow Kate and she turns to me with an apologetic look in her eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t know Sally was going to bring him,” she whispers.

  “Can’t you get rid of him?” I scowl.

  “I’ll do my best.”

  We go silent as Sally enters the room. “Are you alright? I thought I heard you talking to someone.” The unease is clear in her eyes. Despite how good I’ve been to her she’s still edgy in this house.

  “I had the radio on but I’ve turned it off now,” Kate replies, pouring out four glasses of wine.

  Sally visibly relaxes. “Oh good. So, what do you think of Nick?”

  “Not much. I’ve only just met him.”

  “Don’t you think he’s good looking?”

  “He’s alright.”

  “Oh come on, he’s gorgeous.”

  “I hadn’t really noticed.”

  “How can you not notice? Don’t tell me Michael has put you off men for life.”

  “No but I’m fine as I am.”

  “Aren’t you lonely?”

  Kate glances in my direction. “Not at all. In fact I’m very happy.”

  I smile back at her.

  “You need to get back out there before you lose your confidence,” urges Sally.