Never Can Say Goodbye

by Christina Jones

‘Melissa, one of my customers – well, one of my home-delivery ladies, actually – mentioned that she’d been to this fabulous new restaurant, in the middle of nowhere, and they only serve fresh produce, locally sourced, and – get this – it’s totally vegetarian.’

  Fighting the urge to say she didn’t give a flying fig about what his home-delivery floozies ate, or where, Frankie forced a smile. ‘How interesting, and very healthy. And?’

  ‘I’d like to take you there.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’d like to take you out to dinner. Somewhere nice. Somewhere where we can have a proper meal made from fresh ingredients, and be alone – without anyone alive or dead interrupting – and actually talk to each other.’

  ‘Why?’

  Dexter laughed. ‘Why don’t you just say no?’

  ‘Sorry, I know that sounded really ungracious.’ Understatement, Frankie thought, giving herself a severe mental shake. ‘I mean, I just wondered … ’

  ‘I’m not going to try to add you to my tick-list of local conquests, if that’s what’s bothering you. You’ve made it quite clear what you think of me, and also that you’re not interested – and I never chase lost causes.’ Dexter shrugged. ‘I just thought, because we’ve been through all this ghost stuff together, and we’re sharing the being new business owners thing as well, and we’re friends, it might be nice to go out together – as friends – without hordes of other people. But if you don’t want to, then—’

  ‘I do,’ Frankie said quickly. ‘Honestly. Thank you. I’d love to.’

  ‘Good.’ Dexter looked far more jaunty. ‘I’ll book a table then. Wednesday evening suit you?’

  ‘Perfectly.’ Frankie nodded. ‘And sorry again – it’s just … well, I haven’t been out on a date for ages, and I’ve become very wary of people’s motives.’

  ‘No need to worry about mine, then, is there? It’s not a proper date, and I’ve just laid out my stall. Talking of which, I suppose I ought to go and open up. We’re doing a roaring trade in Christmas trees at the moment. Everyone seems to want real trees this year. Brian’s been a great help on the delivery side of things.’

  Frankie laughed. ‘Don’t tell me Brian has taken on the, um, duties with your home-delivery ladies? He’d never get out of his duffle coat in time.’

  ‘Cruel.’ Dexter laughed, heading for the door. ‘I’ll let you know what time I’ve got the table for, shall I?’

  ‘Please. And, Dexter, sorry I behaved so churlishly.’

  ‘I’m sure you have your reasons.’ Dexter grinned at her. ‘And I’m looking forward to finding out what they are.’

  Frankie was still smiling stupidly at the closed door when Ernie appeared at the end of the counter.

  ‘See, duck, I told you he liked you.’

  Frankie sighed. ‘Oh, Ernie. Yes, he does, and I like him, too. But that’s as far as it will go for all sorts of reasons.’

  Ernie chuckled. ‘We’ll see, duck. We’ll see.’

  ‘We’re not going to be another you and Achsah, so don’t even think about it.’ Frankie tried to look stern. ‘And it’s not that I’m not pleased to see you, but I’d really hoped that you’d, well, gone. Are the others still here, too?’

  Ernie nodded. ‘Sadly, yes. But we’ve had quite a pleasant time, duck. Once you’re dead you don’t measure time in hours or days or anything so I’m not sure how long it’s been, but we’ve all been chatting and getting to know one another. I must say, if I do have to be suspended down here for a while longer without my Achsah, it’s quite nice to have a bit of company.’

  Frankie peered round the shop. ‘And where are they now?’

  ‘Oh, they’re all here, duck. But we promised we’d keep out of the way as much as possible and we will. None of them blame you for the mess that Maisie woman caused, and they don’t want to make things more difficult for you now.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Frankie heaved a sigh of relief. ‘Oh, and I’ve got the shoes for them. I’ll put them in the end fitting room, so if you could just let them know. I’d give them to you but I’m guessing you can’t hold things.’

  ‘Sadly, no, duck. But they’ll be pleased with the shoes, I’m sure.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. Oh, and there’s one other thing I meant to ask you – do you know if everyone can see you when you materialise? Or is it just people who are a bit more in tune with otherworldly things?’

  Ernie shook his head. ‘No idea, duck, sorry. None of us knows very much about the niceties of being haunters or who becomes hauntees or why, really. It’s all a mystery to me. Why, duck? Are you worried about the customers?’

  ‘Well, yes, but mainly because Cherish works here part-time and she’ll be in at ten o’clock. And I think she knows you – she’s a friend of Biddy’s, and Biddy definitely knows you because she went to your funeral.’

  ‘And a mean-mouthed baggage she is and all.’ Ernie frowned. ‘Biddy, that is, not Cherish. Cherish never went to the seniors day group. Shy, she is by all accounts. Not a joiner. But yes, Cherish would know me by sight, definitely, and Biddy certainly would. Thanks for the warning, duck. I’ll keep meself out of the way, just in case Cherish spots me. I can just imagine what Biddy would make of it if she knew I was undead.’

  Frankie nodded over her shoulder as she headed towards the cubicles. ‘Especially as she made such a big deal about giving you a good send-off.’

  ‘Garn!’ Ernie scoffed. ‘Biddy don’t give a tuppenny damn about any of the dearly departed. She only went along to my funeral, and all the others, for the free food and drink afterwards. She’s not a very nice woman.’

  ‘Sounds about right,’ Frankie admitted, placing the four pairs of shoes neatly on the floor of the farthest fitting room, and pulling the curtain across.

  Ernie was standing by the 1950s rails, his little happy goblin face looking sad again. ‘Can I ask you a favour, duck?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Achsah’s frock. Can you promise me that you won’t sell it? Not until I’m gone for good. I feel close to her as long as I can be near her frock.’

  ‘Of course I won’t sell it. Shall I take it off the rails and put it up in the stockroom to make sure no one wants to buy it? I know several people have looked at it.’

  Ernie shook his head. ‘Could you just leave it here, duck, please? I seem to be stuck down here in the shop. I’m not sure I could materialise upstairs, and then I wouldn’t be able to see it at all, would I?’

  ‘Oh, Ernie. I’ll leave it wherever you want it to be, and I promise you, it won’t be sold.’

  Ernie’s face split into a beatific smile. ‘Thank you, duck. You’re a lovely girl.’

  ‘And you’re pretty lovely yourself, Mr Yardley. Achsah was a very lucky woman. Anyway – Oh, you’ve gone … ’

  ‘Who’s gone, dear?’ Cherish trotted happily into the shop. ‘Have I missed a customer?’

  ‘No … no, definitely not. It’s just me talking to myself.’

  ‘I do that all the time.’ Cherish unbuttoned her beige woollen coat. ‘When I’m at home I chat to the radio and telly presenters as well, you know, and sometimes I know I do it to myself when I’m out. That’s why I love those mobile phones.’

  Frankie frowned. ‘I don’t quite see the connection.’

  ‘Well, dear –’ Cherish neatly folded her taupe gloves and scarf together ‘– everyone has mobile phones these days, don’t they? And they all walk about talking. So, when I catch myself having a conversation out loud I just put my hand up to my ear and everyone thinks I’m on the phone and no one thinks I’m doolally. Shall I put the kettle on, dear?’

  ‘Yes, yes please,’ Frankie said with a laugh. ‘And you’re very early this morning.’

  ‘I got a lift in.’ Cherish blushed slightly. ‘Brian picked me up. He’s working with Dexter all day and he goes past my bungalow and it saved me having to wait for the bus in this bitter weather.’

  ‘Oh, that’s kind of him. Brian’s a lovely chap.’

/>   ‘He is, dear. I might have misjudged him, you know. I’m afraid I was guilty of judging by appearances. I’m learning a lot, dear.’

  Frankie smiled to herself as Cherish tripped happily into the kitchen. Cherish was blossoming more with every day. Maybe one day she’d turn up wearing some bright colours rather than the all-over bland beige, then Frankie would know the transformation was complete.

  But, she thought to herself, smiling as three women, red-nosed from the cold, came into the shop, why on earth would Cherish’s bungalow in Hazy Hassocks be on Brian’s route to work? Now that Brian lived in Rita’s ex-bungalow, he was already in Kingston Dapple, and therefore Hazy Hassocks was actually miles out of his way. How very strange …

  ‘Shall I make coffee for the boys as well, dear?’ Cherish called cheerily from the kitchen doorway. ‘They must be freezing out there.’

  Boys? Oh, Dexter and Brian. ‘Yes, of course. Please do. I’ll pop out with them.’

  ‘No need, dear. I’m more than happy to do it. I can see we’ve got customers.’

  Several more women, all shivering, clattered in and declared that it was far, far too cold for snow and whatever happened to global warming, and then joined the first three rattling through the rails.

  Chris Rea was now driving home for Christmas.

  ‘I’ll take this one, please.’ One of the first customers placed a black lace over red satin evening dress on the counter. ‘It’s a proper one-off classic. It’ll be lovely for my husband’s works’ do at the weekend. You’ve got some lovely dresses here, dear. Lovely. I’ll tell all my friends to come in here. It’s nice to know you won’t fetch up at some local function and bump into someone wearing the same frock.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Frankie smiled, taking the red and black frock over the counter. ‘And did you want to try this on first?’

  ‘It’s a fourteen so it should be OK.’ The woman frowned. ‘Maybe I should just try it … are the fitting rooms over there?’

  ‘Yes.’ Frankie nodded to the curtained-off cubicles. ‘Give me a shout if you need a hand with the zip or anything. There’s a mirror in there, but you can come out and use the cheval if you’d prefer.’

  ‘Lovely, thanks. It’s so nice to have proper customer service.’ The woman retrieved her chosen frock from the counter and headed towards the cubicles. ‘I really appreciate it.’

  From the corner of her eye, Frankie saw the curtains of the end cubicle twitch. ‘Oh, could you not use the far end one, please,’ she called quickly to her customer. ‘Er, I think there’s someone in there.’

  The woman veered off to another fitting room.

  Phew. Frankie exhaled. ‘What’s going on over there in the fitting rooms, dear?’ Cherish put a tray with four steaming coffee mugs on the counter. ‘How many people have you got in that end cubicle? The curtain’s going nineteen to the dozen. Looks like quite a kerfuffle.’

  ‘Oh, um, I think it’s OK.’

  ‘Shall I just go and check, dear? It might be someone being a bit light-fingered, if you get my drift. We had that happen at Miriam’s Modes once. A lady trying one frock on over another and attempting to walk out with them all. Shocking, it was!’

  ‘Yes … yes,’ Frankie said distractedly, her eyes on the end cubicle’s fluttering curtains, ‘it must have been. No, Cherish, leave it, please, I’ll sort it out. You can serve these customers for me and – oh, sod it!’

  Cherish had already bustled busily across the shop floor.

  Frankie held her breath.

  Cherish rattled back the end fitting room curtain and screamed.

  ‘Sorry, dear heart,’ Jared said coyly as he simpered out, still in his purple get-up but now with the addition of the matching slingbacks, and sashayed towards the counter. ‘Didn’t mean to make you jump.’

  Cherish was standing, transfixed, simply staring, her hands to her mouth.

  Oh, bloody hell … Frankie glanced quickly at her other customers. Busily admiring various frocks and humming along to Greg Lake being rather dismal about disappointing Christmases, they didn’t appear to have noticed anything amiss.

  ‘Jared!’ Frankie hissed. ‘Please! You promised!’

  ‘I know, sweet, but I got carried away. So sorry. The shoes are just darling. Thank you so much.’

  ‘You’re welcome. Now, please, just disappear.’

  ‘Harsh woman!’ Jared pouted, before pirouetting prettily and executing perfect points with the purple shoes. ‘Never fear, darling girl. I’m going.’

  And with his hand on his hip, he exaggeratedly swayed across the shop floor, between the clothes rails, and vanished.

  ‘Goodness me!’ Cherish trotted back to the counter, still flapping her hand across her face. ‘She gave me the fright of my life. I didn’t expect her to appear from the curtain just like that. Poor lady, though, such terrible hair loss. Alopecia do you think, dear?’ She giggled. ‘Mind you, she more than made up for it on her legs. They were very hairy, did you notice? I always shave mine when I have my weekly bath, don’t you? But she looked very nice in the purple, didn’t you reckon? Right, dear, now I’ve got over my shock I’ll just put our mugs on the counter, and take the coffee out to the boys before it gets too cold to give them any benefit.’

  Open-mouthed, Frankie watched Cherish – who had rarely ever spoken more than two sentences in an entire hour – calmly carry the tray out of the door.

  ‘That was a close shave, if you’ll pardon the pun.’ Bev, perched on the end of the counter, chuckled. ‘Fancy her thinking Jared was a woman.’

  ‘Oh, Bev, please don’t manifest now. You all promised.’

  ‘I know.’ Bev shrugged and looked down at her elegant navy-blue soft leather Patrick Cox shoes. ‘And I was trying, honestly, but I think, like Jared, it was the excitement of having shoes on again. Maybe it’s excitement that makes us appear? Or any sort of emotion? Sorry, love, I’ll try to calm down and vanish. Ah, maybe not just now though. It might look a bit odd.’

  The black-lace-on-red-satin lady had emerged from the fitting room clutching the frock.

  ‘No more odd than you sitting on the counter in a snood – although it goes well with the dress style,’ Frankie said grudgingly before smiling at her customer, crossing her fingers and hoping that the red-and-black lady wouldn’t think someone looking like an extra from Blitz perched on the counter was even slightly strange. ‘Did it fit?’

  ‘Perfectly, thank you. I’ll take it.’ She flourished a credit card. ‘This is a wonderful shop. I shall pop in again for something for my New Year’s Eve party.’

  ‘Please do.’ Frankie zapped the credit card. ‘We’d be delighted to see you.’

  ‘She can’t see me, can she?’ Bev said. ‘Or hear me?’

  Frankie shook her head as she folded the black-lace-on-red-satin carefully into a carrier bag.

  ‘Wonder why not?’ Bev slid to the floor. ‘Funny business this haunting. Wonder why we appear to some people and not to others?’

  Frankie simply shrugged as she smiled goodbye to the customer.

  ‘Okey-dokey, I know you can’t talk to me. I’ll toddle off now then –’ Bev smiled, still admiring her shoes ‘– and ta for these, Frankie. They’re lovely. Ruby and Gertie are thrilled to bits with theirs, too.’

  ‘You’re welcome,’ Frankie whispered in case anyone should hear her. ‘Now, please go away. Oh Lordy –’ She sighed, suddenly catching sight of Gertie and Ruby wandering happily round the 1980s frocks and prodding the shoulder pads. ‘And please take them with you.’

  ‘Will do,’ Bev said cheerfully. ‘And have you had any joy in finding someone who can sort us out yet?’

  ‘Not yet,’ Frankie hissed as yet more customers trudged, shuddering with cold, through the door. ‘But we’re working on it.’

  ‘Good girl.’ Bev smiled. And disappeared.

  Frankie heaved a sigh of relief just as Brenda Lee started rocking around her Christmas tree.

  ‘Goodness me,’ Cherish said as she flutter
ed back in, her cheeks pink and her hair all wispy, ‘it’s absolutely bitter out there. The wind is screaming across the market square and that flower stall offers very little shelter. The poor boys are shrammed. I’ve told them they should both be wearing fingerless mitts. And thermal underwear.’

  Frankie blinked. Cherish was discussing underwear with Dexter and Brian? The transformation was rattling on far more quickly than she’d even imagined.

  ‘And,’ Cherish continued, ‘can I just say how lovely you look in that scarlet? I’m not afraid to admit that I might have got it a teensy bit wrong about you being a grey person, dear. I’m beginning to wonder if I should maybe add a splash of colour to my life, too. Actually, I was wondering about buying some orange cushion covers for my sofa.’

  ‘Are you?’ Frankie said, amused both by Cherish’s admission and her conspiratorial tone. ‘Well done. I’m sure they’d look lovely.’

  ‘Yes, I think they’d cheer the room up a lot, although my mother would have hated them. She was very partial to her oatmeal.’ Cherish picked up her mug of coffee. ‘But I think I should have realised a long time ago that you can’t live in the past, you see. The past lives with you inside your heart, dear, doesn’t it? But we must make the most of now, mustn’t we?’

  Frankie blinked, wondering if Cherish had been taking advice from a life coach.

  ‘Brian says –’ Cherish warmed her hands on her coffee mug ‘– that whether our past has been happy or sad, it’s over and it’s now that counts. Brian’s very clever, you know, dear.’

  ‘Er, Brian? Clever? Right … Yes, I suppose he, um, might be.’

  ‘He’s sensible.’ Cherish nodded. ‘And very kind. Now, dear, what would you like me to do today?’

  Frankie, trying not to look too shocked, quickly thought that keeping Cherish out of the shop as much as possible would be a good thing. Just in case anyone, er, dead put in an appearance.

  ‘Oh, um, well, when you’ve had your coffee, would you like to carry on organising the stock upstairs this morning? I’ve had another load dry-cleaned so they need to be put into decades. And Mitzi Pashley Royle from Lovers Knot has been really generous and given us masses of her old cocktail frocks. If we get really busy down here I’ll give you a shout. Is that OK?’