‘Don’t bother your dad with that stuff,’ Charlie said, quickly. ‘It’s all in the past.’
Lydia willed herself not to glance at Charlie. She remained focused on her dad. ‘Something very bad happened at that party. Two people died.’
‘What’s this about parties and bookings? What do you want to know about the cafe for?’
‘Just trying to get up to speed on the Family business,’ Lydia said. ‘Feel like I ought to know more than I do. Now that I’m in Camberwell.’
‘I thought you didn’t want to be involved.’
‘There’s not being involved and then there’s being wilfully ignorant. I was reading and I saw a news story about a wedding party at The Fork in which the bride and groom both ended up dead. It kind of stuck out.’
‘Well, this is a good day,’ Charlie was beaming. He rubbed his hands together and, this evidently not enough to release his happiness, pulled Lydia in for a lung-crushing hug, too. ‘You’re really home.’
Lydia pulled away. ‘It’s my job to know things, now. I’m an investigator.’
Charlie was still looking annoyingly happy. It made the stone in Lydia’s stomach grow several sizes larger. If she had made Charlie this happy, she had probably taken a misstep. Still, she had come this far. ‘Do you remember that, Dad?’ She ignored Charlie and tried to engage her father, again. ‘Why did a Silver book a wedding party at The Fork?’
‘Silver has its uses,’ Henry said, not looking away from the snooker.
‘Who would have wanted to harm Amy Silver and her groom?’
Henry shook his head, his lips compressed into a thin line. He was staring at the television, still, but Lydia caught a new determination in his attention. He wasn’t just watching the snooker, he was deliberately avoiding her gaze.
‘Your mother will be back in a minute,’ Charlie said. ‘She’s just gone out for some fresh air.’
That got her attention. ‘On her own?’
‘Yeah. While I’m here to keep your dad company.’
And the penny dropped. Her mother didn’t want to leave Henry alone, was worried about him. So she was taking the opportunity to get out of the house. ‘She probably just wanted to avoid you,’ Lydia said, instead. ‘You’re not her favourite.’
Charlie smiled his shark’s smile. ‘I’m everyone’s favourite.’
‘Not Mum’s,’ Lydia persisted. She didn’t know why she was needling Charlie. Just that the sight of her father’s confused expression had made her suddenly, ragingly angry. She wanted to kick something and Charlie just happened to be closest.
Lydia said her goodbyes and left the room, then burst through the front door of the house like she was escaping from a burning building. She doubled over, with her arms wrapped around her body, the pain of seeing her father so confused and shrunken like a physical punch.
‘You heading back to town?’ Charlie’s voice was unwelcome. He had car keys in his hand and waved them. ‘I can give you a lift.’
‘I brought my car,’ Lydia managed.
‘Is that what you call it?’
Lydia had no particular love for her old Volvo but she leapt to its defence. ‘It’s the perfect stakeout car. Roomy.’
‘Unmemorable,’ Charlie said, making it clear it was a criticism.
‘Exactly,’ Lydia said. ‘Perfect.’
‘Well, I’m not going to tell you how to do your job. Speaking of which, I’ve got another little task. I’m having a meeting later this week and I’d like you to drop by the table. Give me a reading-’
‘Right,’ Lydia said, a stone settling in her stomach. Her uncle let her live above The Fork rent free and this was the price. Using her gift to tell him the Family background and power, if any, of his business associates. So far she had managed to hide that she could communicate with a ghost and seemed to act like a battery, powering some people’s abilities or essential strength, but she worried about him finding out every single day. Uncle Charlie was power-hungry and Lydia did not like to dwell on how he might react. And what he might demand.
‘I’m glad we bumped into each other today,’ Charlie said, ‘I wondered if you were ready to learn a little more. About the business.’
‘No, thank you,’ Lydia said. ‘I’m running my own firm. But thank you.’
‘Maybe not the business,’ Charlie said. ‘But about the Crows. Our legacy. Our abilities.’
‘More history?’ Lydia feigned disinterest. This was exactly the area she wanted to avoid with Charlie. ‘I know our legends, Dad told them to me when I was kid.’
‘Come on, Lyds. You know I was working with your cousin. She had a gift.’
Maddie had demonstrated a level of power that hadn’t been seen in the Family for generations. Charlie had been very excited. Until Maddie went rogue and then disappeared. Lydia had no intention of being her replacement. The less Uncle Charlie knew about her own abilities the better. ‘You know mine,’ Lydia said.
‘Aren’t you curious to know if you could do more?’
‘Nope,’ Lydia lied.
Charlie looked momentarily disappointed, but he rallied fast and grabbed her into a bear hug. ‘Nothing more important than family, Lyds,’ he said, speaking into the top of her head. ‘And nothing is more important to me than your happiness and wellbeing.’
He pulled back and looked into her eyes with more care and sincerity than she could stand. ‘You’re my blood and, more than that, you’re Henry’s girl. I would do anything for you, you know that?’
This was most unlike Charlie, who tended toward the terrifying. Lydia managed to nod and to mutter ‘course’ like an embarrassed teenager. Then she escaped.
Chapter Ten
Lydia was sitting out on her roof terrace on her nice new wicker chair. She had a mug of coffee on the bistro table and was wrapped in Fleet’s hoodie. It was so damn cosy.
Jason had wandered around the terrace, looking longingly over the edge and trying to see how far he could lean over before whatever force kept him in the building, snapped him back upward.
‘What do you remember about your wedding day?’
‘The day I died, you mean?’ Jason turned away from the view of the narrow street which ran behind The Fork. ‘You want me to tell you how I died? If I could do that, you wouldn’t need to investigate.’
‘I know that,’ Lydia said, trying to be soothing. An unwelcome thought crossed her mind; what if this plan worked, but the dead Fox ghost had the same issue as Jason, and wouldn’t be able to remember his death, either? Still. It was the only plan she had, so she ploughed ahead. Forward momentum trumped rational thought every time.
‘It was sunny,’ Jason said after a moment. ‘Dead or Alive was on the radio in the cab.’
‘You took a taxi from the registry office?’
Jason nodded. ‘It wasn’t a budget thing… I don’t think so, anyway. Amy wanted everything low key and simple. Her parents would have paid for a limo, but she didn’t want one.’ His eyes misted a little. ‘She was cool, you know?’
Lydia nodded. ‘Did you get on with her parents?’
‘I think so,’ Jason said, after a moment. ‘We didn’t spend a lot of time together, really. And they wouldn’t have said anything if they didn’t approve. They were too smart for that.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Amy knew her own mind, you couldn’t tell her what to do. I think her parents knew that if they had told her they didn’t like me, it would have made her marry me even faster.’
‘You don’t think they liked you?’
Jason shrugged. He was flickering slightly, clearly getting agitated. Lydia sensed she didn’t have much time before he disappeared. ‘She sounds great,’ Lydia said. ‘I’m really sorry for your loss.’
Jason’s flickering slowed down a notch. ‘Thank you. She really was.’
‘Did she talk about her family much? The Silvers?’
‘Not at all,’ Jason said. After a moment, he added. ‘I always had the impression that
she was rebelling against her upbringing. I never questioned her about it, I was just happy be along for the ride. I guess,’ he hesitated. ‘I assumed we had time. I thought we would become proper married grown-ups, have kids, and grow old together. There was time to get to know her parents, time for her to reconcile with them, time for us to do everything.’
Lydia put a hand on his arm. His flickering calmed even more and she felt his arm become more solid under her fingers. After a moment Jason gave her a small smile. ‘That feels good. It’s like I’m really here.’
‘You are here,’ Lydia said.
‘I was always very rational. I didn’t believe in life after death, spirits, none of it. But Amy did. She loved ghost stories and those fake psychics who pretend to talk to the dead. She had seances with her friends on sleepovers when she was a kid. If one of us was going to hang about it should have been her.’
‘Did they ever work?’
‘What?’
‘Amy’s attempts to contact the dead?’
‘Of course not,’ Jason said. ‘That’s all bollocks.’ It took a second and then he realised what he had just said. The laughter that followed felt good. Better than Lydia had felt in days. Who knew that living with a ghost could be so therapeutic?
Having established that there wasn’t anything in the news stories which followed Amy and Jason’s wedding-day deaths, Lydia was pretty sure it must have been hushed up. Probably by the Silvers. They had the power, after all. The obvious person to ask would be Alejandro or Maria, but Lydia didn’t think they would be in a helpful mood. She could ask Fleet to look into it, but Lydia knew it wasn’t as simple as it used to be in the good old days. Fleet would need a good reason to go digging into an old case or even just running a name through the database. She wondered if there was a more direct method of finding out what happened on that day. There seemed to be more than one ghost in London, maybe she could just ask Amy directly?
Lydia retrieved her phone from the desk, where it was plugged into the charger and pressed to call Emma ‘Hey,’ Lydia said as the call connected.
‘You won’t believe what Archie just put down the toilet.’
‘Ah. Shall I call back later?’
‘No chance,’ Emma said. ‘You won’t.’
Her voice was dry and Lydia felt her stomach drop. ‘I’m really sorry-’
‘Joking,’ Emma said quickly. ‘I know you’re busy. No worries. Now guess. You’ll never guess.’
‘Um, is it a live thing?’
‘Ew! No! He’s not a psycho.’
‘Sorry. Right.’ Lydia tried to put herself into the shoes of Archie. Cheeky. Six years old. Male. Adorable cheek dimples which even Lydia was helpless against. ‘A book?’
‘He wouldn’t dare,’ Emma was laughing, now. Then her tone changed. ‘Back into your room, mister.’ Then, to Lydia. ‘Sorry, he’s in a time out.’
‘Fruit?’
‘Good guess. No.’
‘I give up,’ Lydia said, smiling and wondering, as she always did, why she didn’t live with Emma and feel this good all of the time.
‘The little ratbag emptied my handbag down there. My sunglasses, wallet and house keys.’
Oh, that’s right. That was why. ‘What possessed him to do that?’
‘He says he didn’t want me to go out again, but that’s just a feeble manipulation tactic to get out of trouble. I think he just wanted to see what would happen. Kids are like that. They are inquisitive and have very poor impulse control. Remind you of anybody?’
‘Have you been going out a lot?’
‘Don’t try to change the subject. We’re talking about you. Put any other scary and powerful people in jail, recently? Please tell me you’re staying safe. Being careful.’ Emma’s voice was no longer light.
‘I’m being careful,’ Lydia said. ‘I promise.’ She knew that her life was terrifying to Emma and a part of her appreciated her friend’s concern. It was grounding.
‘Right, then. Are you coming round? You owe me a visit.’
‘I was actually hoping you could come here. Tonight.’
‘Yes.’
‘I have an ulterior motive.’
‘I already said ‘yes’. I’m desperate for a change of scenery. I love these kids but, God, a pause button would be great.’
‘Do you still have that ouija board game?’ Emma’s dad had brought one back from a business trip to America and Emma had been the belle of the sleepover circuit for the rest of the school year. Lydia had point blank refused to have anything to do with it and she was hoping Emma might have forgotten that.
‘The devil’s playground?’
Apparently not. ‘Yep.’
‘Well, this day is full of surprises,’ Emma said. ‘You provide the wine, I’ll provide the cheesy board game.’
That evening Lydia put Fleet off. ‘I’m seeing Emma.’
‘When do I get to meet her?’
‘Not tonight.’
‘I didn’t mean tonight. I know you two haven’t seen each other in ages. I just meant it more as a general, what is the state of our relationship kind of a question.’
Lydia had wandered over to the window while they spoke and she looked at the street outside, desperate for a distraction from the conversation. If a dozen white horses could just appear trotting down the middle of the road, she would have a legitimate reason to change the subject. Lydia would have settled for some drunks on their way home from the pub getting into an altercation. Sadly, the road remained empty.
‘Well, that’s my answer,’ Fleet said.
‘It’s not meant to be,’ Lydia said. ‘I’m a bit… Overwhelmed.’
‘By my raw sex appeal?’ Fleet’s habitual joking tone was back and Lydia felt a flood of relief.
‘I was thinking more about work and family stuff. The usual.’
‘You’re right,’ Fleet said. ‘I’m sorry if I’m pushing you. I’m used to getting on with things in my personal life. If I waited for everything to calm down at work before having a life, it would never happen.’
‘I get that and you’re right,’ Lydia said. ‘Can you just give me a little bit more time to adjust?’
‘If you’re in, you can take all the time you need.’
‘I’m in,’ Lydia said. It wasn’t until she had hung up that she realised she was smiling.
When Emma arrived that evening, carrying the ouija board game in a battered cardboard box and a bakery bag of double chocolate cookies, Lydia had just finished rinsing the takeaway container from dinner and stuffing it into her overflowing recycling crate.
They caught up on the toilet situation and chatted about Tom’s health while Lydia poured red wine and set out some jar candles she had bought at the local Tesco. They were ‘cotton fresh’ scent which didn’t feel appropriately occult, but she was willing to work with what they had. She had warned Jason and he had elected to attend. There was a spark of hope in his eyes which made Lydia’s stomach hurt.
The board was set up on the living room floor, in the space between the desk and the sofa. Emma sat on one side, Lydia on the other, and Jason hovered on the sofa, overseeing proceedings from what he considered a safer distance. Lydia could see the tension in his expression and the way his body was not quite sitting on the cushions.
‘Do you remember how this works?’
Emma gave Lydia a wide smile. ‘It doesn’t work, as I recall.’
‘Yeah, but that was before I was involved.’ Lydia caught Emma’s eye and held her gaze. ‘I honestly don’t know. I mean, it might. Is that okay?’
‘Of course!’ Emma looked more excited than the time she found a beautiful pair of yellow heels marked down from a hundred to a tenner.
‘I’m serious,’ Lydia said, knowing that there was no way to properly prepare Emma or to convey the feeling that would come from realising that there was more to this world than met the eye. Emma thought she wanted a spooky experience, proof of another plane of existence or the soul or whatever, but the truth w
as scary. Lydia was a Crow and she was still freaked out.
She checked on Jason. He had his hands clasped and his sleeves pushed up even further than usual. He meant business, in other words.
‘What?’ Emma had caught Lydia’s glance.
‘Nothing,’ Lydia said. She would save the news that there was already a ghost in the room for another time. Like never.
‘Do you need the instructions?’ Lydia opened the lid of the box to look.
‘I can remember it,’ Emma said. ‘Honestly, I did this so many times it’s ingrained.’
Lydia lit the candles and jumped up to turn off the main light, before retaking her place.
‘Okay.’ Emma was sitting cross-legged and her face spelled concentration, for a moment, Lydia could see Emma in her school uniform, taking her purple furry pencil case out of her Converse backpack. Twelve years obliterated in the blink of an eye. ‘I call upon my spirit guide to join us. I call her to watch over me and to guide me as I contact the other side.’
‘Spirit guide?’ Lydia said.
‘You have to have a guide,’ Emma said. ‘It’s the rules. Mine is Madonna.’
‘But Madonna isn’t dead.’
Emma shrugged. ‘I was twelve when I created her. She’s the astral projection of Madonna. Shut up.’
Lydia smothered her laughter. ‘Sorry. Please continue.’
Emma resettled herself, hands on her knees, palm upward like in yoga class. Then she began invoking her spirit guide again. After a few minutes of Emma asking for her guide and then appearing to listen, she nodded. ‘It’s time. Put your finger on the planchette.’
Lydia placed a finger on the planchette and so did Emma. Lydia felt a chill and she assumed Jason had moved closer.
‘Is Amy Silver available? We would like to communicate with her.’
It was typical of Emma to be super-polite, even when contacting the dead. The planchette slid across the board and landed on the word ‘yes’.
‘Holy shit,’ Jason said.
Lydia couldn’t stop herself from looking at him. He was huddled on the sofa, his feet drawn up and an expression of agony on his face.
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