‘Sometimes I think I would. In a funny way, these ghosts have become my family. I have nobody else. But then I look out through the front windows and see the warm glow from the houses across the street. I imagine the lives those families live, shouting children, playful dogs, busy, busy lives. For that, I would give up everything else in a moment.’
Beth dropped her head into her hands and rubbed her forehead.
‘Please, don’t feel sorry for me,’ Bill said with a sigh. ‘I’m surrounded by fear all the time. I don’t need pity too.’
‘Are you very scared here?’
‘Oh, it’s not as bad as all that.’ Bill laughed, and then started coughing.
Beth stood up and rubbed his back until the wheezing stopped.
‘I’m not going to lie,’ he said, his voice still raspy, ‘the monks are downright creepy and they certainly set the blood racing, but they’re not the only ones here. There’s a girl, too. She wears a nightgown and has glossy brown ringlets and a teddy in her hand. She cries in one of the bedrooms upstairs. It breaks my heart anew every single night. I always wish I had the strength to bring her peace. That’s the hardest to bear.’
‘I may know someone who could help you with that.’ Beth smiled. ‘Let me look into it. In the meantime, I’d better get back to work. Is there a number I can reach you on?’
Bill got up and opened a drawer in the sideboard. He drew out a thick piece of paper emblazoned with an old-fashioned crest and a black fountain pen. He wrote his name and number in a careful, looping script. He shook slightly as he wrote, his pale, age-spotted skin almost tinged with blue. ‘Here you are.’ He held out the paper, his fingertips white where he pressed them together in an attempt to hold his hand steady. ‘I hope you’re real. I hope I hear from you soon.’
Beth took Bill’s hands and looked him directly in the eye.
‘Do I feel like a ghost? You would know better than anyone else.’
‘No, you feel real.’
Beth smiled. ‘I will call you, Bill, whether or not we hold the event here. Do you trust me on that?’
Bill laughed, but the sound was more brittle than before. ‘Trust? I was done with that a long time ago. I haven’t had cause to trust anyone in a long time.’
Beth smiled. ‘Well maybe it’s time we changed that.’
CHAPTER FIVE
Jonan
‘Amelia’s clearly planning something,’ Jonan said, leaning back in his chair. ‘But I can’t dig in to what it is. She has herself very well shielded.’
‘And the tarot cards?’ Doriel asked, her hands flying as she knitted thick purple wool into a long scarf. The movement was hypnotic.
Tired as he was, Jonan couldn’t take his eyes off the wooden needles as they clicked over and over. ‘The Tower and the Devil.’
Doriel stopped knitting and looked up at Jonan, back straight, eyes bright. ‘The Tower? So she does have something big up her sleeve. And she’s using it to spread fear; we know that already.’
Jonan massaged the bridge of his nose. ‘We don’t know how big she will go.’
Doriel stuck her knitting needles into the ball of wool and put it down on the coffee table. ‘Amelia is potential. There’s no end to how far she can go, or how strongly she can influence people. It’s so frustrating that people can’t just see through the fog she puts up. She’s supposed to be on our side, influencing people into waking up. Instead she’s shutting them down through fear, taking us back to some kind of dark age.’
Jonan sighed. Doriel was right. This was the moment he and Beth had to step in. This was why they had incarnated, but surely taking a little more time over it wouldn’t hurt? He’d been dreaming of Beth his whole life; he didn’t want to scare her off by saying too much too soon.
‘Did you hear that?’ Doriel asked, tilting her head. She unfolded from the chair and walked over to the window, the bells on the hem of her long skirt tinkling. Pulling the curtains back, she opened the crooked wooden window and peered out. ‘It’s Beth.’
Jonan darted out of the room and took the stairs two at a time. The front door was locked and the key wasn’t in its normal spot behind the counter. He scrabbled around in the drawers before finding it nestling behind a half-full cup of cold tea. He fumbled to get the key in the lock, and then shoved the door open. It swung on its hinges as he stepped out into the street. ‘Beth!’ he called after her retreating back.
She spun around.
Her shoulders were hunched, her hands shoved in her pockets against the cold, but when she saw him, she broke into a wide grin that set his heart racing. She stepped forwards, and then faltered. ‘I thought… the shop was closed?’
‘It is, but we’re both upstairs and I was about to put the kettle on. Would you like to join us?’
‘Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude on your down-time.’
‘Of course I’m sure.’ He smiled.
Beth paused, her head tilted to one side.
Jonan stepped through the door, holding it wide. She seemed to take forever. His arm was frozen unnaturally in mid-air and was starting to ache, but he tried to look nonchalant. ‘Don’t you want to come in?’
She chuckled. Her arm brushed against his hand as she slipped through the door and moved to wait at the bottom of the stairs.
‘That’s right, it’s the same as the reading room, just farther up.’ Jonan ducked past her and up the staircase.
He heard Doriel humming in the kitchen as he stepped into the living room, and ushered Beth inside.
‘What would you like to drink, Beth?’ Doriel called.
‘Tea please, milk no sugar.’
‘Right you are.’ Doriel started singing again, louder this time.
Jonan wished he’d tidied up. The room looked like an unmade bed. The sofa had creased dips in the seats where he and Doriel had been sitting. Books and newspapers were abandoned face down and half-drunk cups of tea sat on the coffee table.
Jonan wondered what Beth’s home was like, and whether it was ever this messy. He watched as her eyes tracked every piece of debris from his life, absorbing clues and personal details he’d had no time to hide.
‘Have a seat,’ he said, gathering up papers from the sofa and putting them in a fairly neat pile on the coffee table. ‘I’m sorry about the mess.’
‘Oh no, it’s a lovely room,’ Beth said, slumping into one of the single chairs. ‘Old buildings usually feel so…’ She frowned. ‘…edgy. Your home has all the charm, but it feels peaceful.’
‘Thank you.’ Jonan smiled, releasing the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. ‘Not many people notice that.’
He stepped past her, picking up a large log and stacking it onto the fire, watching as it caught. He had wanted Beth in his home. Now that she was here, the things they needed to talk about seemed too big, too daunting. He felt her energy tugging at him like the scent of home. In her, he felt the peace he had longed for his whole life. He knew that if he gave in to that particular pull, he’d never have the courage to tell her the truth, to take the risk that she might think he was crazy and walk away.