The Ghosts of London

by Amy Cross

  "Absolutely," the officer replies.

  "So go on, then," Robinson continues as he ties a knot in the string and then starts writing something on the side of the cup. "I'm concentrating on my strengths, so you should go and do the same. I'm sure you can find something to police in the vicinity. After all, it's what you're here to do, isn't it?"

  "I'm here to keep the order, Sir," the officer mutters, seemingly a little put-out.

  "That's what I'm here for too," Robinson replies as he turns the cup around in his hands. "Of course, my work is a little more long-term."

  The officer pauses for a moment, watching as Robinson draws a smiley face on the cup. "And what exactly are you doing?" he asks eventually.

  "I'm making a bucket," Robinson replies. "I'm afraid I didn't have one to hand. Unless you happen to know where I can find one, I think I should get on with things."

  "Right," the officer mutters, before turning and walking away, although not without a few backward glances, as if he's still bemused by Robinson's activities. Eventually he rejoins a few of his colleagues over by the cordon, and he immediately fills them in on his encounter. After a few seconds, they all start glancing over at Robinson, keen to get a rare glimpse of such an elusive figure.

  "What does it look like I'm doing?" Robinson says quietly to himself, before wincing as a nearby police officer uses a megaphone to tell the assembled crowd to disperse. "They do like drawing attention to themselves," Robinson continues, before finally holding the cup out and letting it dangle from the piece of string. "There," he says with a satisfied smile. "I think we're on the right track now."

  After a moment, he glances at the distant bridge again, and this time he notices three figures watching from the shadows, almost as if they're waiting for something. As a cold wind blows along the muddy, exposed riverbed, the figures seem to dissipate, as if the wind itself has carried them away. Anyone else who happened to have spotted the figures at that particular moment would probably have been startled, perhaps even a little scared; Robinson, however, merely lets a faint smile curl across his lips.

  His theory has just been confirmed.

  Chapter One

  Katie

  "No!" I shout, kicking Simeon in the face and sending him slamming into the wall.

  "Nice hit," Izzy hisses, twisting my arms behind my back until I feel as if they're about to break. "Now how about you stop fighting the inevitable?"

  "Fucking bitch," Simeon mutters, wiping blood from his mouth as he gets to his feet. "What are you, Katie, some kind of fucking kick-boxer?" He looks at Izzy. "You wouldn't know she's got it in her, would you? She looks like such a meek and feeble little thing, but she's got a bit of fight in her."

  Still trying to get free, I focus on slipping my right hand out of Izzy's grasp. For a moment, I feel as if I've actually got a chance, but she notices at the last minute and twists me around with a sudden jerk that sends a jolt of pain through my body. I cry out, and by the time I've got my senses back I can already feel Simeon grabbing my feet again and holding them tight together.

  "I've still got some fucking teeth left," he grunts as he lifts my legs. "Fucking hell, I'm gonna have to go to the fucking dentist later."

  "Let's just get this over with," Izzy replies. "It's taken too long already."

  I try to twist free as they carry me across the landing and through the door to the bathroom. Once we're inside, Izzy kicks the door shut and then puts her arm around my neck, holding me tight as Simeon lets go of my feet and hurries over to the bath. He fiddles with something at the bottom before turning on the taps.

  "It's okay," Izzy whispers, leaning close to the side of my face. "Don't fight it. Once you accept death as an inevitability, the whole of life just becomes that bit more bearable, you know? It's not the end, either. In some ways, it's just a new beginning, or a change in state. Think of your current form as an ice cube. When you die, it's like the ice cube melts. Sure, the cube itself isn't there anymore, but the water still exists, which means your soul still exists. You're just a little more fluid than you used to be."

  "Go to hell," I mutter, watching as Simeon grabs some towels from a nearby cupboard. Having tried to fight my way free, I'm now hoping to work out a smarter plan. Izzy's grip is too powerful and Simeon seems to be tough enough to hold me down, so I need to use my brain if I'm going to get away. Taking deep, snatched breaths, I look around the cramped bathroom for anything I might be able to use, but so far there's nothing.

  "You're in the denial phase," Izzy says after a moment.

  "Help!" I shout at the top of my voice, hoping that someone might hear me and come running. "Help me!"

  "That's good," she continues. "Soon you'll accept the inevitable. Shout all you want, honey, but the only people who can possibly hear you are the other girls and their clients, and trust me, they're not gonna give a shit. Hell, some of 'em might even get off on it."

  "Help!" I scream, but it's almost as if the louder I shout, the more helpless I feel.

  "Get it off your chest," Izzy whispers. "Go on, really shake the rafters. Get all that terrified energy out, and you'll feel a lot better. Trust me, I've been where you are; I know what it's like." She turns to Simeon. "We ready yet?"

  "Almost," he replies, staring down at the water that's filling the bathtub. "Pressure's not that great."

  "Please," I whimper, with tears starting to roll down my cheeks, "just let me go. I won't tell anyone about any of this. I won't go to the police, I won't talk about it, not ever, but just let me go. I don't want to die."

  "No-one wants to die," Izzy replies. "Can't be avoided, though. Relax. Once you're through to the other side, so many things are suddenly not gonna seem like they're important. Trust me, it really gives you a sense of perspective. When I died, I immediately lost all these hang-ups about my weight, the way my life was going, all that kind of shit. Wouldn't you like that?" Leaning over my shoulder, she peers at me with her skeletal, rotting face. "Wouldn't you like all your worries to just fade away and seem less important?"

  "Please," I whimper again, as Simeon turns the tap off. "Please, just let me go."

  "Alright," Simeon says with a sigh. "I reckon that's enough."

  "No!" I shout, as Izzy pushes me forward and Simeon grabs me by the waist.

  "I'd ask if you've got any last words," Simeon says, gripping my head and holding me over the edge of the full bath, "but the truth is, you'll still have plenty of chances to jabber on after we're done here, so I suppose it's not really relevant. Now..." He starts to gently push my head down toward the surface of the water, "the only question, Katie sweetheart, is whether you're gonna waste your time and ours by fighting this."

  "I think she's starting to see that there's no point," Izzy says.

  "No," I whisper, struggling to keep my head up. "Please. Someone has to help me..."

  "No-one's coming," Simeon says calmly, still pushing my head slowly down toward the water no matter how hard I resist. "You're gonna snap your fucking neck if you keep this up. I suppose that'd achieve the same results, pretty much, but it'd hurt more. Just relax into it and it's all gonna be so much better for all of us. I mean, fuck, you're gonna feel so stupid when you wake up on the other side. You'll be wondering what all the fucking fuss was about."

  "Who do you think's gonna save you anyway?" Izzy whispers, pushing on the back of my head. "Your sister? That bitch clearly doesn't give a shit about you, does she? I mean, fuck, she just buggered off without a second thought. What kind of a sister would do something like that? She blatantly doesn't care what happens to you, so stop thinking she's somehow gonna swoop in and save the day, yeah? Not gonna happen, honey." She pauses. "I tell you what. I can be your new big sister. When all of this is over and you've calmed down, I'll be there for you."

  "No," I whisper again, with my face just a few inches from the surface of the water. "No!" I shout, suddenly launching another attempt to fight my way free.

  "Let's get this over with," Simeon grun
ts.

  "Rachel!" I scream.

  I kick out toward Izzy while trying to twist free, but it's no use and suddenly my body slips down and crashes into the freezing cold, dirty brown water. I scrabble about for a moment and finally lift my head back above the surface, but before I can get a gasp of air I feel Simeon and Izzy both pushing me back down, and finally my face plunges back beneath the surface.

  No matter how hard I fight, I can't get free. They're both holding me under, and although I try to reach around and find something, anything, that might help me to fight them off, after a few more seconds I start to feel my arms getting tired. I grip the sides of the bathtub, waiting to recover my strength so that I can try again, but instead I just seem to fall completely still. Although I try to hold my breath a little longer, I soon reach the point at which my body's natural instincts kick in: I take a deep gulp, drawing water into my mouth and down into my lungs. I can feel myself filling up, but there's nothing more I can do, and finally I realize that my own naivety has led me into this position.

  I try to reach down and grab the plug, to get the water out, but it's too late.

  The last thing I feel is someone peeling my fingers off the edge of the bathtub and then gently holding my hand. It doesn't feel like the hand belongs to either Simeon or Izzy, so I don't know who it is, but suddenly I realize that there's no way I can fight this any longer. With my eyes wide open in the dirty brown water, and my mouth open despite the fact that my lungs are filled with water, I stare at the plug.

  My whole body has fallen completely still.

  My heart beats one more time and then falls still. I wait for it to beat again, but nothing happens.

  Chapter Two

  Rachel

  "This is a disaster," Alexander says as we hurry through the security cordon. "I'm going to have somebody's head on a stick for this!"

  Following him, I can't help but feel as if the world is coming to an end. The stench from the exposed riverbed is bad enough, but on top of that there are police helicopters circling overhead and I've even spotted a few army vehicles making their way along the banks of the river as they attempt to persuade people not to loiter. The Thames has always been such a defining part of the London landscape, and now to find that it's suddenly gone... I can't help but make my way over to the barrier and stare down at the muddy riverbed below. Looking toward the horizon, I realize that the city seems completely different now, as if its heart has been ripped out.

  "Do you have clearance?" asks a police officer as he approaches.

  "She's with me!" Alexander calls out. "Rachel, over here!"

  Smiling politely at the officer, I head over to join Alexander. I feel as if we're at the heart of a huge storm that has gripped the city, and it's shocking to realize that despite all the uniformed people in the area and all the equipment, the scene is one of chaos and panic. Orders are being barked from loudspeakers, while worried-looking engineers are furiously examining data on their laptop screens. If the end of the world was about to happen, I'm pretty sure this is what it'd look like.

  "I need to find someone who knows what the fuck's going on here," Alexander mutters.

  Glancing over at the far side of the small gangway, I spot a man in an immaculate suit leaning over the side. As he stands up straight, he seems to be pulling something up on a rope, and finally a coffee cup comes into view, having seemingly been lowered down to the riverbed like a small polystyrene bucket. I can't help but stare as the man, who appears to be oblivious to the chaos all around the site, sticks his fingers in the cup, removes some mud, and then gives it a sniff. Rather than being repulsed, he seemed to be surprised, and maybe a little concerned.

  "I think we should reconvene later," Alexander says, sounding annoyed as he looks in the opposite direction. "It's going to take me hours to get to the bottom of this. Can you meet me at the penthouse for dinner? I'll tell the doorman to issue you with a key."

  "I'm sure he'll be happy about that," I mutter. "Totally. I'll be there. I should probably get home and grab something anyway."

  "I swear to God," he replies, "I can feel the money being pissed away with every second of this disaster. I tell you what, though. It's not going to be my money that gets put on the line. Whoever screwed this up, I'll make sure they're ruined."

  "I'll see you later," I tell him, before turning and starting to walk away. After just a few steps, however, I stop as I spot the suited man again, and this time he's tying a thicker rope around his waist. As soldiers and police officers push past me, I'm rooted to the spot for a few seconds as I watch the man looking around as if he's lost something. Finally, he glances at me and I see a moment of realization in his eyes.

  "You!" he calls out. "Over here!"

  I check over my shoulder, but there's no-one there, which I guess means that he's talking to me.

  "I haven't got all day," he continues. "I need you to hold something."

  I look back toward Alexander just in time to see him disappearing into one of the nearby office buildings. Despite my misgivings, I figure it wouldn't hurt to hang around a little longer, so I make my way cautiously over to the side of the gantry, where the suited man is still working on the knot tied around his waist.

  "Do you know anything about these things?" he asks.

  "Suits?"

  "Knots." He gives it another tug. "You never really know, do you? I suppose what I actually need is an old-fashioned sailor to come and help me. Do you happen to know any?"

  I open my mouth to reply, but no words come out. There's something about this guy that strikes me as being a little worrying, but at the same time he seems to have been allowed past the cordon and no-one's coming over to challenge him. Despite his strange behavior, he's apparently allowed to be here.

  "I can't believe she's late again," he mutters, checking his watch before reaching down and picking up the other end of the rope and passing it to me. "Hold that for a moment," he says, before turning and looking down at the riverbed about ten meters below. "How soft do you think it is?" he asks. "I mean, obviously it's mud, but do you think it's soft enough for a decent landing?" He turns to me. "Or do you think it's too soft? I wouldn't want to get sucked under."

  "I don't really know what you're talking about," I tell him.

  He stares at me for a moment, as if something has caught his attention.

  "I should go," I continue, "I need to -"

  "You're dead," he says suddenly, interrupting me.

  I pause.

  "You're dead, aren't you?" he asks, taking a step toward me. Reaching up, he takes hold of one side of my chin and turns it first one way, then the other, all the while keeping a dissatisfied look on his face. "But you're also... not dead," he adds. "I've never come across anything like that before. Tell me, were you aware of this problem before I told you, or is it news?"

  "I..." For a moment, I have no idea what to say. "Maybe," I add eventually.

  "Maybe?" he replies. "Maybe you were aware? That's a weird answer. Don't you remember dying?"

  "Kind of," I reply, "but how do you know?"

  "I'm observant," he continues, poking my shoulder as if he half expects his finger to go straight through. "I've met plenty of living people, of course, and plenty who were dead too, but I've never met someone who was sort of... half and half before. Would you mind coming to see me some time when all this is over? I'd like to run a lot of tests on you."

  "I'm not really sure about that..." I mutter, figuring that I need to get away from this guy. "I'm sorry," I add, "but I should -"

  "Hold this," he says, pressing one end of the rope into my hands.

  "Why?" I ask.

  "In case something goes wrong while I'm down there," he replies.

  "In case -"

  Before I can finish, he turns and climbs over the edge of the gantry, and then in a flash he leaps down out of sight. I'm left standing in stunned silence for a moment, staring at the space where he used to be, until suddenly I realize that the coiled
part of the rope is starting to get pulled down after him. I rush to the edge just in time to look down and see him plunge feet-first into the muddy riverbed. For a few seconds, he seems to disappear beneath the surface, before finally he pulls himself up and wipes mud away from his face.

  "Great job!" he shouts up at me. "Now wait right there! I won't be long!"

  I open my mouth to call back to him, but I suddenly feel a horrendous punching sensation in my chest, and I take a step back. I can't explain it, but I feel as if somewhere, something awful just happened.

  Chapter Three

  Katie

  When I wake up, my eyes are already open.

  The first thing I notice is the stillness. I'm on the bathroom floor, soaking wet and freezing cold, but something seems to be different deep in my body. It takes me a moment to realize what's wrong, but finally I'm struck by the fact that my heart isn't beating. I never used to really think about my heart before, but now that its constant thumping has stopped, I feel completely empty and cold.

  I wait.

  It has to start soon.

  "Hey," Izzy says, pushing her foot against the side of my face. "Wake up. It's done."

  I look up and see that she's standing over me. Her face has gone back to normal, as if somehow she's managed to cover up the decay and rot that showed briefly while she was getting ready to drown me. Right now, she's smiling down at me with an expression that looks almost sympathetic, as if now that she's killed me, she thinks she can be my friend. All I can do is stare up at her and wait for something to change. This has to be a dream.

  "You gonna just stay down there all day?" she asks with a grin. "Katie, come on, let's haul ass. The hard part's over, but you need to learn a few things."

  Slowly, and with an aching body, I sit up. My freezing cold clothes are still soaking wet, and they're clinging tight to my body; I'm not shivering, but I feel as if the cold has penetrated my core, and after a moment I look over at the nearby bath. It's as if I'm one step removed from everything: I can hear Izzy still trying to persuade me to get up, but her voice fades into the background and all I can do is frown as I reach up and press two fingers against the side of my neck, searching for my pulse.