‘Is there someone here?’ she said.
‘If the board doesn’t lie,’ Emma said, smiling.
Jason had closed his eyes. ‘I don’t know. I can’t look. I can’t.’
‘It’s okay,’ Lydia said.
‘Who are you talking to?’ Emma frowned. Lydia hadn’t looked away from Jason quickly enough and Emma had caught her speaking to the sofa. ‘Are you messing with me?’
‘No,’ Lydia said. ‘Sorry. Just saying it’s going to be okay.’
‘I know,’ Emma said. ‘I’m not worried. You don’t have to worry about me.’
‘Shall we carry on?’ Lydia made sure she kept her eyes on Emma, although the question was really for Jason.
‘Sure,’ Emma said.
‘Do it,’ Jason said in a strangled voice.
‘Right, then.’ Lydia took a deep breath. Was it her imagination or was the planchette icy cold? Shouldn’t it be warm from the heat of her finger? ‘Are we speaking with Amy Silver now?’
Again, the planchette slid across the board and landed in on the word ‘yes’.
‘Are you doing that?’ Lydia looked at Emma but knew immediately that she wasn’t. ‘That really moved.’
Emma’s expression was calm. ‘It’s the ideomotor effect. You really want Amy Silver to be here.’
‘Wait, what?’ Lydia took her hand off the planchette and sat back. ‘The what effect?’
Emma waved her hands. ‘It’s a subconscious reflex thingy. Your body responds without you knowing and you push the planchette even though you don’t think you are. It’s how these things work,’ she gestured at the board. ‘I read up on it so that I’d be better at doing it.’
Only Emma would do her research to be the best at a board game. ‘But I want to use it for real. I don’t want my subconscious whatnots messing with it.’
‘The effect works best when you think you’re not controlling it. That’s why a group of people joining in is best, because you don’t think you’re having any individual effect, you can just go with it.’
‘So I should plan to control it in order not to do it?’ Lydia closed her eyes in frustration. An image of a crow in flight flashed into her mind. ‘This was a terrible idea.’
‘No, no, don’t give up,’ Emma said. ‘Let’s keep going. Don’t think so much. Try to just have a bit of fun.’
Lydia wanted to tell Emma that she lived with a depressed ghost and had recently met a screaming, terrifying spirit on the underground, and pushing a plastic triangle around just wasn’t doing it for her. Instead she reached for her wine glass and took a healthy slug. ‘Okay.’
Emma put her finger back on the planchette and Lydia did the same. It still felt cold and Lydia was about to ask Emma if she had noticed the odd temperature, when the planchette whizzed across the board to the array of letters. It stopped as abruptly as it had started, pointing to the letter ‘h’. A beat, and then it moved, again, just tilted very slightly so that the tip of the arrow was on the letter ‘I’.
‘Hi?’ Emma said. ‘Did something just say ‘hi’ to us?’ Her eyes were wide.
‘Is this what usually happens?’ Lydia asked, already knowing the answer. Emma’s shocked reaction had already told her that this was not normal. The planchette was moving again and they both read out the letters as it slid across the board.
‘S.I.L.V.E.R.’
‘Oh god, oh god, oh god,’ Jason was curled in on himself and Lydia wanted to reach out and pat him. She wanted to reach out and give him a sympathetic pat, but she couldn’t. So she said ‘it’s okay,’ instead, and hoped he knew it was for him.
‘Silver?’ Emma was pale and the words tumbled out in a panicked babble. ‘That’s really clear. It’s usually just gobbledygook unless you ask something specific. And then, even then, maybe a yes or a no, not this. Are you doing it?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Lydia said. ‘I can’t be sure, though. I wish I could ask something that only Amy Silver would know.’
‘But you would still know,’ Emma said. ‘It wouldn’t prove anything.’
Of course, Emma didn’t know that Amy’s dead husband was scrunched on the sofa, moaning gently to himself. Jason could confirm the answer after the board had spelled it out. There would be no way for Lydia to do it sub-consciously.
‘Prove you are Amy Silver,’ Lydia said out loud. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’
Emma pulled a confused face but didn’t argue. For a moment, nothing happened, and Lydia had a split second of feeling daft. Two grown women, one of whom belonged to an ancient magical family, leaning over a kid’s board game, and then the planchette moved. Again, it slid swiftly and surely across the surface, spelling out the word ‘lilac’.
‘That’s very specific,’ Emma said. ‘If your subconscious was guessing, it would have gone with blue. I think that’s the most common answer-’
‘Amy?’ Jason was on his feet. Lydia felt the blast of cold air as he moved closer. She didn’t want to take her hand off the planchette, in case it somehow cut the connection to the other side, but she wanted to soothe Jason, too. He was vibrating so fast that his image appeared to flicker in and out of existence. ‘You’ve got to calm down!’ Lydia said sharply. ‘Breathe!’
That did it. Jason instantly stopped vibrating and turned hurt eyes on Lydia. ‘Well, that’s just mean.’
‘Sorry,’ Lydia said to Jason. ‘But you need to keep a hold of yourself. You don’t want to miss this.’
‘I am calm. Who are you talking to?’ Emma said. ‘Seriously. I’m going to start freaking out if you don’t tell me what the hell is going on. Can you see somebody here?’
‘Sorry,’ Lydia said. ‘I’m sorry.’ Emma was Lydia’s normal friend. She had always kept everything Family-related firmly under wraps. Partly from habit, partly because she was brought up in suburbia and the whole point was that she was meant to have a normal life and partly, if she was honest, from fear. She didn’t want to frighten Emma and had never wanted her to look at her differently. All of that had changed, now, of course. She had opened up to Emma since returning to London and they were closer than ever. But old habits died hard. And it was one thing to talk in theory about the Crow Family history and quite another to explain that there was a ghost in the room. A ghost that Lydia appeared to power-up so that he could now reliably make cups of tea.
‘Don’t be sorry,’ Emma said. ‘I know it’s hard. You can trust me.’
That did it. Lydia felt pricking behind her eyes. Emma had never been anything except a good friend. She was on her side Lydia knew that in her bones. So why couldn’t she trust her not to hate her? Be disgusted by her? Frightened of her? She took a deep breath. ‘There is a spirit in this building. I can talk to him.’
Emma nodded. ‘Is he doing the board?’
Lydia shook her head. ‘We don’t need it. I can hear him.’ She hesitated before adding. ‘And see him.’
Emma looked around, as if she would be able to see him, too. ‘He’s here, now?’
‘Yes.’ Lydia looked up at where Jason was standing by the board, in between her and Emma. ‘He’s right next to us. Don’t worry. He’s really nice.’
‘You think I’m nice?’ Jason said.
‘Of course,’ Lydia said.
‘What?’ Emma said.
The planchette began sliding again. ‘S.T.I.L.L.H.E.R.E.’
‘Jesus H.’ Emma breathed out the curse. ‘This is surreal. If we were recording this we’d make a packet on YouTube.’
‘People would assume it was faked,’ Lydia said.
‘Ask if she knows I’m here,’ Jason said. ‘Ask her if she can come here. Why isn’t she here with me?’
‘Hang on,’ Lydia was trying to think, to stay calm. She needed the smart play and this connection, whatever it was, might be lost at any moment. She didn’t want to upset Jason but part of being an investigator was putting aside emotion in order to get to the truth. ‘How did you die?’
The planchette got even colder, t
he ice turning to a burning sensation on the tips of Lydia’s fingers.
‘Ow,’ Emma said, but she didn’t move her own fingers.
‘You might want to leave,’ Lydia said to Jason. Adding ‘not you,’ to Emma.
The planchette slid slowly. It stopped and started, moving jerkily as if the force powering it was uncertain or angry. ‘H.A.’
‘Ha?’ Emma frowned. ‘Is it laughing?’
The planchette moved again. To the ‘T’. Please don’t be spelling out ‘hat’ Lydia prayed. Death by hat. That was neither dignified nor helpful. Then the planchette moved again, settling on the letter ‘E’.
‘Hate?’ Emma said. She breathed out. ‘Bloody hell.’
The burning in Lydia’s fingers was worse and she said, ‘I’m going to have to let-’ just as it began spinning and she could no longer keep contact.
The planchette span around in place, faster and faster, before whizzing off the board completely and launching across the room, flying through Jason’s body and under the sofa.
‘That was an unpleasant sensation,’ Jason said and disappeared.
Lydia stuck her fingers into her mouth and sucked. They were frozen and the heat of her mouth intensified the pain. Was it possible to get frostbite from a piece of plastic?
‘So, that was Amy Silver?’ Emma sat back. ‘I guess she’s finished chatting.’
Lydia took her hand out of her mouth and said something she often thought, but didn’t often say. ‘I bloody love you.’
Chapter Eleven
Emma and Lydia moved to sit on the sofa with their wine glasses fully topped up. Emma was still being remarkably calm. ‘Tell me about your spirit friend.’
‘His name is Jason Montefort. He died here. And now he’s stuck.’
Emma pulled a face. ‘Well, that sucks.’
Lydia nodded. ‘He’s nice.’ After another moment of hesitation, she decided to go all in. ‘I think. Well, we think, that I might be powering him up.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He never used to be able to touch stuff and, since I moved in, he can. He even makes tea.’
‘That’s handy,’ Emma said. ‘Send him over to my place.’
‘He can’t leave The Fork. Well, he can move around the building and out onto the roof terrace, but not over the edge or out through the main doors. I’m hoping that if I can find out how he died, it will unlock that for him. Give him some freedom.’
‘He doesn’t know how he died?’ Emma’s nose wrinkled when she was thinking hard. Archie and Maisie were exactly the same. ‘Was he unconscious?’
‘I don’t know. He can’t remember anything. Except that it was his wedding day.’
‘Jesus. That’s awful.’
‘I know, right? Poor guy.’ It felt amazing to talk to Emma about Jason. Lydia didn’t know why she had always been so cautious and closed off.
Emma got up suddenly and ran to the kitchen. A moment later she called through. ‘False alarm. Sorry.’
There was the sound of the tap running.
‘Sorry,’ Emma said again, wiping her mouth as she returned to the sofa. ‘Thought my wine was going to come back up for a moment, there. It’s just all a lot to take in.’
And Lydia remembered. That was why.
‘Just a delayed reaction,’ Emma said, cheerfully enough. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
‘I do worry,’ Lydia said, feeling like hell. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-’
‘Will you stop that?’ Emma looked cross which was so unusual that Lydia shut her mouth immediately.
‘You don’t have to look after me or protect me. Just because I might be freaked out by something doesn’t mean I would prefer to be left out. Life is messy and full of things we don’t know but then we experience them or learn them. That’s the whole point of life.’
‘But this stuff-’
‘Is really cool,’ Emma said. ‘It’s scary and overwhelming, but it’s also amazing and exciting. You don’t get one without the other.’
‘You are very wise,’ Lydia said, keeping her voice light even though she suddenly felt like crying. ‘When did you get so wise?’
‘Parenthood,’ Emma said cheerfully. ‘There’s nothing like realising you are responsible for moulding tiny lives to make you get your shit together.’
‘I think you were the same at school,’ Lydia said.
Emma made a finger gun and pointed it at Lydia. ‘Don’t you dare tell me I was an old soul.’
‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ Lydia said. ‘Although you were. And are. What?’ She ducked as Emma aimed a cushion at her head. ‘It’s a compliment.’
‘The word ‘soul’ suddenly seems very real,’ Emma said, once she’d stopped laughing. ‘We have actual proof that there is life after death. That there is a spirit part to us, not just electricity and neurons and biology.’
‘I think we always knew that. Really.’ Lydia had never thought she was just flesh and blood. Being a Crow had always given her a strong sense that there were things in this world other than the purely physical, her Family powers for starters.
‘There’s a difference between believing it and knowing for sure, though.’
‘I guess,’ Lydia said.
‘Is he here, now?’
‘No,’ Lydia shook her head.
‘Where does he go?’
‘His bedroom,’ Lydia said, smiling at how mundane the phrase sounded. ‘Or the kitchen in the cafe. Sometimes the roof terrace. And sometimes he disappears completely. He doesn’t know where he goes when that happens, he can’t remember anything.’
‘That sounds scary,’ Emma said. ‘For him, I mean.’
Lydia nodded. ‘It is. He’s terrified he won’t come back.’
‘It’s strange to think about a ghost being afraid of death, but it makes sense.’
‘While he’s a sentient ghost, he’s not really dead. He’s terrified of oblivion. And being so close to it, he has the sense that there is something else. It might just be peaceful quiet, true oblivion, or it could be something different. Something worse.’
‘Or something better?’ Emma pointed out. ‘Is he religious? A nice vision of heaven would be comforting right about now.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Lydia decided not to mention Jason’s fear of a fiery hell dimension. Emma was dealing with quite enough as it was.
‘You could be on the brink of solving the big question. The whole life, universe and everything thing. What happens when we die? What’s it all mean?’
Lydia had never thought of the wider ramifications of Jason’s existence. She felt a little bit ashamed.
‘Although it could be counterproductive,’ Emma was thinking out loud. ‘I mean, isn’t that the point of belief? That it’s something you take on faith, not requiring evidence. Once you have evidence, it’s fact instead?’
Lydia didn’t know. Just that this line of thought gave her a headache. And made her want to do something physical and simple. Either hit something or bang someone. She was not as evolved as Emma, that was for certain.
Emma took a healthy sip of her wine and shook her head. ‘Is it weird that I want to go home and jump Tom?’
‘Oh, thank Feathers,’ Lydia said. ‘I was just thinking that I felt weirdly in the mood.’
‘It’s probably our animal instincts jumping in because we’ve reached the limits of our conscious understanding. Or just thinking about death this much reminds us to seize the day.’
‘Either way,’ Lydia said, and took another slug of wine. It warmed her from the inside and highlighted the other feelings that had stirred. She shifted and Emma stood up. ‘I’m going to head home.’ She blushed. ‘For completely unrelated reasons.’
‘Yes,’ Lydia said. ‘I’m going to call Fleet. Also for unrelated reasons. Something completely different.’
Emma kissed Lydia’s cheek and left, phone in hand and a determined look in her eye. She hoped Tom was feeling energetic.
After Emma had gone, Ly
dia wasted no time in calling Fleet. ‘You know I said I couldn’t see you tonight,’ she began.
‘On my way,’ Fleet replied, a smile in his voice. ‘Unless you want to come to my place?’
Lydia hesitated and he said ‘no worries’ and finished the call.
There was a flutter of guilt, but since she couldn’t quite explain her reluctance to visit his home to herself, let alone anybody else, she ignored it. A Crow, roosting in the home of a copper. It felt like a statement and she still wasn’t sure she was ready to make it. However much she wanted to wander off her given path.
He had been to the gym after a late finish at work, and his tightly curled hair was still damp from the shower. He was wearing a t-shirt which meant his biceps and forearms were available for her viewing pleasure. And it was a pleasure.
All was going very well, when the conversation took a turn. Lydia had made the mistake of mentioning her fruitless ghost-hunting expedition. Which put Fleet back onto the subject of Paul Fox. His brows lowered and a deep crease appeared between them. ‘I don’t know why you’re doing his bidding.’
Lydia stamped on her irritation. ‘Putting aside your feelings about Paul,’ Lydia caught herself, ‘our feelings. There is a distressed spirit underground and it feels like I ought to try to do something about it.’
‘Fair enough, but you don’t have to interact with him. You don’t need to do this for him.’
Was he? Could he be? ‘Don’t be jealous,’ Lydia said. ‘You’ve got nothing to worry about.’
‘I’m not,’ Fleet said, annoyance clear on his face. ‘This isn’t about that. I don’t trust him, though. And I’m worried that your judgement is clouded.’
‘By what? My lust?’ Lydia felt herself blush. Which was irritating. She did feel lust for Paul Fox. He was a Fox. In every sense. But she was smart and knew to allow for that reaction. Knew to account for the animal magnetism that blessed the Fox Family. Besides, she had literally been there and done that. ‘I exorcised that long ago.’
Fleet winced. ‘Thanks for reminding me.’
‘Sorry.’
‘I’m not talking about that. This isn’t about us. It’s about you being seduced by his charm into taking risks. Trusting whatever line he’s feeding.’
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