Ghost House (Soul Mate - Book One)

by Richard Crawford

  The ghost steps back and keeps watching. After that I watch too. I reckon the lads and the older guy have a similar look. The sign over the door says Mahoneys'. Family business. I wonder how this is going to go down.

  I should be at work. After one week it's the first day I've missed. At least the ghosts waited a while to come back. I should be glad, but it has a downside. After last time waiting a week was hard. I'm freaked what's going to happen if he comes back. I don't know if he can come back. It's not that I can even be sure it was Danny, not as if he said hello or anything. But I'm pretty damn certain. That shit with the vodka wasn't like any other ghost before. I don't like thinking about it, but I don't have a choice.

  If Danny comes back I don't know what he'll do. Maybe next time we'll go off the bridge or off the roof. Payback's a bitch. I figure there's more to it, perhaps something I have to do, but I can't work it out.

  This ghost is a guy. I can tell by the way he walks, the casual way he settles our crotch and the breakfast he ate. He likes his meat and eggs. Sort of makes sense we're standing across from a butchers, but I'm betting he's not here to pick some nice steaks.

  We just keep standing there and I'm waiting for someone to come over to ask what we're doing or sort us out. It's not as if we're being discreet. The ghost is just flat out staring.

  After lunch it quiets down a bit in the shop. Two of the lads disappear out the back. The other one stays behind the counter hacking lumps of meat with a cleaver. The big guy comes out front and lights up a cigarette. He stares across the road.

  He's still wearing his blood-splattered apron. Him and the ghost are eyeballing now. Even across the road it's got heat. The big guy plants his feet apart and the ghost sort of mirrors him. We must look like two gunslingers facing off across the street. I'm thinking this is not good.

  Nothing happens for a while. I guess no one stares the big guy down. But he doesn't come across the street. After a few minutes the big guy crooks a finger calling us across. The ghost doesn't look right or left. The ghost doesn't hesitate; he steps right out into the street. A car horn blares. The big guy just watches.

  Sometimes people know. Or at least they sense something. I don't know how it works.

  Just as we reach him the big guy turns and goes into the shop. We follow. As we step through the door the guy grabs the chains and twists them round his massive fist. He jerks them out of the way and shuts the door, flipping the closed sign up. He looks to the lad behind the counter. "Out the back till I call you, Sean. And make sure your mammy stays out of the shop too."

  Sean puts the cleaver down, wipes his hands down his apron. He stares hard at us. "Everything okay, Da?"

  "Just do as I tells yer," the big man says. He stays by the door. When Sean's gone he speaks real soft. "I figure you've something to say to me." It's not a question. He has a heavy forehead and thick eyebrows half hiding his deep-set eyes. His shoulders hunch forward; his large hands hang a little way off his sides.

  The ghost watches those hands. The slap of meat against marble comes through the door from the back and the sound of voices.

  "I know about the meat," the ghost says. "The condemned meat you sold to your customers."

  "You come here to talk about the meat?"

  "No." The ghost takes a breath and speaks real low, marking each word. "I came here to tell you that if you lift a finger to any of them again, I'll tell about the meat. I know enough names and details to see you in jail."

  The big man's silent for a long while. Then he steps closer. "You're saying you know something was wrong with meat I sold. It's easy enough to say it but why should I believe you?"

  "John told me. I know where it came from and how much; I know every time you did it. I know everything John knew."

  The big man retreats, scrunching in on himself as if he took a blow. "Johnny," he says. It almost sounds like a question.

  I'm surprised to feel the prick of tears. The ghost shifts, glances round the shop. "You remember what I told you," he says, but his voice is different. "If you raise a hand to one of them, I'll know." We turn to go but the big man is in the way.

  "I never mean it. It's the drink, you know that right?" He sounds like he is going to cry.

  "You think that makes it better?" The ghost hisses the words and there's a lifetime of fury in them. "Don't give me your tears and excuses. I heard it all before and it's worth nothing." We take a step forward, almost threatening. "I know they'll cover for you, but you can't hide from me. One finger…."

  The ghost heads for the door and the big man moves out of the way. Tears slide down his face.

  The ghost is gone. Shaken, I hurry down the street without looking back. Past rows of houses all the same. I wonder if every one of them holds a terrible secret. A ghost. It freaks me out and I need to be around someone. I want to go look for Suki but I don't. I'll take her flowers later.

  I head for the bike shed, figuring it would be a good idea to show up. Even though I've been missing all day, at least they'll see I'm sober. Zach made an agreement and I know he'll cut me some slack, for a while. But not if he thinks I'm drinking again.

  Chapter Eleven

  By the time I get to the garage it's mid afternoon. It would be nice to see a friendly face, talk about something normal. I'm so fucked up and sort of empty after the ghost that even Ally looks good. He pulls his head out from an engine long enough to glare at me and tell me there are no ricks to take out. He dives back into the engine but keeps bitching. He gives me about five minutes grief about how I can't turn up late and expect to get a ride. I don't interrupt. When he runs down I tell him I'm sorry but something came up. I say that I told Zach this might happen and we came to an arrangement. I don't tell Ally that the arrangement was that Zach would pay me way less than everyone else. When he looks up, I can see by his face that Ally remembers the arrangement but he's still pissed, which is fair enough. I messed up his precious rota. They were a rider short. It wouldn't be the end of the world but Ally was probably hung over when he had to deal with the mess. I'm guessing it was not a cheerful morning and my name was mud. At least I wasn't here.

  "So," he says in a sarky tone. "Are we to expect you tomorrow?"

  "Yes!" I say and sincerely hope I'm telling the truth. If Ally gets fed up and starts bitching to Zach I'll be out. I hope that Ally has noticed that I'm sober. I wander over and bend down to look at the cab engine he's working on, so he will notice that I don't smell of booze or peppermint. But he just gives me a weird look. I go and sit down on the knackered sofa by the fridge in the corner of the garage euphemistically known as the 'rest' area. This does not meet with Ally's approval. He glares at me for a moment.

  "While you're here you might as well be of some use," he says. "There's a cab out back that needs freshening up."

  Another euphemism, he wants me to mop up vomit or something equally unpleasant. I don't argue. When I'm done with the vomit, I stick my head round the corner just long enough to say bye. I'm out of there before Ally can find me anything else to do.

  I'm not being lazy. If I had time I'd stick around and get in Ally's good books. But I have important stuff to do.

  Simon's twenty pounds lasted five days. I've managed to leave flowers at the boat for Suki everyday for the last week without getting busted. There's no sign she found them, or if she's pleased, but I'm hoping. Last couple of days I'm down to leaving single stems. Lucy would give me the flowers, but I won't take them unless she charges.

  I head down the alley stepping aside to avoid being run down by a cab and ending up squashed in a doorway face to face with a gargoyle; it's like being back in the 16th century. Before I can get going again someone yells.

  "Hey, T."

  I stop and look round a bit reluctantly. But it's only Pete, one of the rickshaw riders. He comes to a halt beside me.

  "Hey, we missed you this morning, T. You all right?"

  "Yeah, no problem," I say and hope he notices how alcohol free my breath is.
/>   Pete is about six foot seven and he's folded up like a deckchair on the rickshaw bicycle. His red hair sticks out from beneath a straw boater making him look like a posh scarecrow. He stares at me as if he wants to say something else but isn't sure about it. I'm worried that this might mean trouble so I raise a hand and start to move off.

  "Gotta go," I say. "See you tomorrow?"

  "Sure, take care, T."

  I head on my way feeling a little unsure about this encounter. The rickshaw riders are pretty good guys and they've all been friendly up to now. I know a few of them share a house and they're a tight bunch. I don't think I've done anything to get myself in bad with them. I think about that asshole Max and wonder if he's still spreading shit about me. I tell myself not to be paranoid. I'm just freaked after the ghost.

  Thinking about Max makes me remember I've still got Mickey's good blue shirt. I don't want to go round to Max's and it seems like I never see Mick now. I wonder what that's about.

  I get to the covered market and I'm glad to see Lucy's still there.

  "Back again, Tom. I've got the perfect thing for you." She holds up a stunning ruby red rose. I know I can't afford it.

  I've told Luce about Suki. I had to there was no way I could buy flowers and her not worm it out of me. I can tell she approves of Suki, even though she's never met her. Of course I had to lie about the ghosts, and that meant letting her think I fell off the wagon and nearly blew it with Suki for no good reason. I keep waiting for the day when Luce will wash her hands of me. But there's no way I can tell her the truth. I'm not that stupid.

  When Simon's money started to run out, I started to get single flowers. I asked Luce what would be good and what would be too naff. And of course, what could I afford. She knows about flowers and she explained what they all mean. I've forgotten what she told me but it doesn't matter. She picks something each day. I don't think she's charging me enough and I feel bad about that. I'm starting to feel bad that after all her help I don't have any good news for her. I haven't been exactly straight with her about the odds of Suki coming round. Where would I start? The whole thing is way too complicated to explain. But I have to persevere; I don't have another plan.

  The flower thing was a good idea but I don't know where it's going, I can't keep buying flowers, or letting Luce give me them. I could look in the bin behind Tesco but then I suppose I'd be letting both Suki and Lucy down.

  Lucy's holding the beautiful long-stemmed rose up for me to see. It's like she's reading my mind. "This will do it," she promises.

  I very much doubt it. "I can't afford it, Luce."

  "How much have you got?" she asks.

  I dig through my pockets and find about fifty pence in change. The ghost used up all my money on that big breakfast. I keep shaking my head at Lucy. "I can't afford the rose." I want to ask if she has anything for fifty p but I don't. Another plan bites the dust.

  She's still holding the rose. "Then I'll give it to you," she says. Before I can protest she adds, "On one condition." She looks stern. "That you give it to her in person and that you talk to her."

  I haven't told Luce that I have been leaving the flowers without seeing Suki, but Luce has super powers. Her suggestion revives the plan but it also raises the stakes. Stupidly I say what I'm thinking, "But if I try to talk to her and she freaks out then it's all over."

  "Why would she freak out, Tom?"

  "I don't know," I say quickly. This is actually true. I still don't understand what happened. It's not as if I managed to tell Suki about the ghosts.

  Luce is looking at me and doing her superwoman, emotional x-ray vision thing. I don't want to tell her the full story so I take the rose.

  "Thanks, Luce. I'll take it on HP." I try to give her fifty p, but she won't take it. I give up and say, "I'm paying you back in full."

  "Don't worry." She takes the rose and fusses about, wrapping it in a sheet of pale satiny paper before she hands it back. "But you make sure you come and tell me what happens."

  "Yeah, of course." I try to sound thrilled, but I'm already pretty sure this won't be a success story.

  ####

  To lessen the risk of another ugly incident, I decide I better get to the boat before it gets dark. I head for the park, carrying the rose like an unexploded bomb and feeling like a dickhead. Three rickshaws go by and the riders ring their bells, I'm betting I'll get stick for this tomorrow. My head is full of ways this can go horribly wrong. To distract myself I begin to rehearse what I'll say to Suki.

  The park is quiet just a few mums with kids in pushchairs heading back from the swings. I walk past the duck pond and along the towpath until I come to the place where Suki and I used to hang out. I stop and sit down on the grass. Putting off the dreaded moment. Perhaps she won't be there. I can leave the rose and tell Lucy I tried. But I can't keep leaving flowers forever. Even if I could afford it, I suppose it would start to get creepy after a while. The boat would look like a grave. So talking to Suki is the next logical step in the plan. Why am I so sure it will be a disaster?

  I put the rose down and lay back on the grass to think about it. With my eyes closed everything fades away. The sound of cars, the kids in the park, it all gets more distant.

  When I open my eyes, Suki is standing on the towpath staring at me. I'm not sure what time it is or how long she's been there. It takes me a minute to get myself together. Then I scramble to my feet. I wonder if she thinks I'm drunk but I don't know what to do about that. I can't tell her I'm worn out from the ghost.

  We stare at each other. I try to judge the look on her face and decide she looks sort of embarrassed. That has to be better than scared or furious.

  "Suki, I'm sorry," I go for the apology again. Then I remember the rose and quickly pick it up.

  Suki watches me. I give her the rose and I can see she likes it. "Suki, about that night, I'm really sorry," when I pause for breath she shakes her head.

  "I over reacted," she says. "It wasn't your fault, Tommy."

  We both know that's too generous. What she's really saying is drunks are confused and unpredictable. You shouldn't expect sense from them. Reacting to what they say, or getting mad with them, is pointless and she should have known better. It's all depressingly sensible and I know what it means.

  In case I do get the wrong idea she says, "You can't keep bringing me flowers."

  "I like bringing you flowers." It's true. She smiles and I think she likes it too.

  "You don't have the money," she says.

  "I have a job now." I'm pleased to get this opening. "I working on the rickshaws, so if you ever want a ride." I dry up a bit as I replay what I just said, then hurry on. "It's not much but it's a start."

  "That's great, Tommy." She looks at the flower. "But still, you can't spend your money on me. It's not right." She still doesn't come right out and say 'Get lost you loser freak'. I'm hoping it's because she gets the same breathless rush that I get being close to her. She fiddles with the stem of the rose and then looks up at me sort of through her lashes.

  This makes me even more breathless. I can't be imagining this. She could have gone by and left me sleeping. Perhaps I still have a chance. I'm working up to asking if I can take her out to dinner sometime but I take too long and she says,

  "Simon told me you turned up at the gallery."

  Oh, shit.

  "That's not cool, Tommy."

  It's like a slap. I get mad at the thought of Simon stirring it. I give her a straight look and wonder if everything that went before was her being sweet with the loser. Now she's covering her tracks.

  "What's wrong with someone going to a gallery?" I ask. I wonder what that creep Simon said.

  It's clearly an awkward question for her to answer without being nasty. She shakes her head. "It's his place of work."

  I laugh. "You can come round the garage anytime." It comes out quite funny and she actually laughs. I'm very confused. All I really want to do is go back to that day we were lying right here in the
grass. I want to kiss her and make everything else go away. I want to be the frog in the fairy story. I am the frog in the fairy story, but there's no prince underneath; that's the problem.

  She doesn't say anything else about Simon and the way she smiles at me I feel like we're in it together again. We stare at each other until she takes a half step along the towpath. "Goodbye, Tommy." It's a hesitant step and she doesn't take another straight away.

  "Have dinner with me,"

  She shakes her head. "Okay."

  I stare at her not sure if I heard right until she sort of laughs and says, "When, Tommy?"

  "Friday." It's four days away and that's a risk but it gives me a chance to get the money together. "I'll pick you up."

  "Okay," she smiles at me.

  I wait until she's gone and then I give a whoop and do a little war dance. She said yes and for the moment nothing else matters.

  ####

  I get into work early the next morning and wash up in the bathroom. By the time I'm done the other riders are gathered round the sofa.

  Jack says, "How did the hot date go, T?"

  I guess he was one of the ricks that saw me with the rose. I laugh and give him the finger.

  Ally comes over with the list. He gives a grunt when he sees me. I get sent to take Mrs Stokes shopping. The job's not the best earner but I don't mind. She's waiting when I get there; turns out she's going to the doctors. This is not strictly something I should hang about for, but Mrs S seems a bit down. I wait even though Ally'll give me grief. She's in there nearly an hour. My phone keeps ringing so I turn it off.