Charlie
twenty-three
“What?!” Brad asked, jaw falling open. “Fired? What do you mean? Why?”
“Why?” Harrison repeated, looking at Brad as if he were completely stupid.
“Because you’ve been here all week, and all you’ve succeeded in doing is damaging our property—breaking crockery, furniture, and now even the walls—with no progress at banishing these so-called ‘ghosts.’ You managed to scare away the electrician I found within one hour of him being here, your boss has conned us out of thousands of pounds, and most importantly, I just want you gone! ”
Evelyn winced, grabbing Harrison’s arm as if to calm him. “What Harrison means is, we’ve decided to go in an alternative direction.”
“Alternative direction? What do you mean?”
“We’ve found someone else to help us,” Evelyn said gently.
Brad frowned, shaking his head. “Nobody else can help you, ma’am.”
“The thing is, we have actually been making progress on our investigation,” I chipped in, my voice cracking slightly.
Brad’s head snapped towards me, his glare murderous.
“We’ve discovered that the source of evil lurks in your basement.
It’s so malevolent that the other spirits here are terrified of it.
That’s why the bottom of the basement is sealed.
Needs to stay sealed. But I wondered if you might be able to help us, Evelyn.
Do you know anything about a couple who lived here about twenty-seven years ago? They had a son in a wheelchair.”
Brad stared at me, mouth agape.
Evelyn pursed her lips, though she did seem to be considering my words. “No… Sorry. I have no idea about previous owners that far back.”
“Do you think your estate agent might be able to—”
“Sorry, dear, but—”
“Enough,” Harrison snapped. “Pack up your stuff, the pair of you. We need you gone by tonight.”
With that, they turned and left us, their low voices travelling towards the spiral staircase. Probably wanting to inspect whatever damage we’d potentially done to the rest of the property.
Gone. Tonight.
The two words sank into me, my throat tightening. I looked around for Bat, but he wasn’t visible. Something told me he wasn’t there at all.
Gone. Tonight.
My chest constricted. The air felt thick, impossible to draw into my lungs. Was this a panic attack?
“Brilliant, Charlie. Absolutely bloody brilliant.” Brad’s voice was venomous. “Gerald won’t pay us at all now. Not even for the days we’ve already spent here.”
He ranted and raved, pacing the corridor like a caged animal, but his words became white noise.
I should have been fuming too, should have been worried about how the hell I’d pay my rent next month now.
But all I could think about was Bat—about the hourglass that had always hung above us, those tiny grains of sand suddenly swept away in one brutal motion.
My chest grew tighter. Tighter. Each breath was like swallowing glass. He was a ghost. I’d known him for less than a week. But it didn’t matter. Didn’t fucking matter. My throat burned.
I stumbled away, down the corridor towards the lobby. The Lancasters’ voices echoed from upstairs. My feet carried me through the double front doors and into the garden. I wasn’t sure where I was going until I found myself beneath the oak tree.
The tree where Bat had first materialised in front of me.
“Bat,” I called, my voice all croaky and pathetic.
Nothing. Nada.
My sadness twisted deeper, sharpening into something angrier. How was I supposed to say goodbye to him if he never reappeared?
“Bat!” I practically shouted. “Where are you?”
A flicker of movement—a shadow shifting wrong near the base of the oak tree.
Then he was there, materialising slowly like watercolour bleeding through wet paper.
But… different. Translucent didn’t even cover it.
He was barely a whisper of himself, edges blurred and fading, like someone had turned down his opacity to five percent.
The texture of the tree bark showed straight through his chest. Even his signature black clothes looked washed out, more grey than anything.
“Sorry,” Bat said, avoiding eye contact. His teeth worried his bottom lip. “I… sorry.”
Relief shuddered through me. My shoulders sagged, and I collapsed back against the oak’s rugged trunk. “Oh, thank God. I thought for a moment…”
“I just needed a minute.” Still no eye contact, still that nervous lip-biting.
“That’s okay,” I said. “Are… are you okay?”
He shook his head, black hair flying left and right.
“We both knew this was a bad idea,” I whispered.
“The worst,” he agreed, finally meeting my gaze.
We smiled then—sad, broken things that didn’t reach our eyes.
“It won’t take more than half an hour to pack up our stuff,” I admitted. “And then… we’ll be gone.”
Bat shifted, glancing away from me, then back again. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“What?”
That wicked grin spread across his face—the one that had me gone for him from day one.
Oh dear. An icy chill crept into me. “Bat… what have you done?”
His smile only grew impossibly wider, canines flashing as he became more opaque. “Let’s just say you won’t be going anywhere for a couple of hours. At least.”
“Bat. What. Have. You. Done?” I demanded.
“Come see!”
He floated over towards Brad’s car, parked in the manor’s courtyard by the gate. My stomach already dropping, I followed him on shaky legs.
I quickly scanned the vehicle, looking for whatever chaos Bat had wreaked. Then I spotted it.
Every single tyre had been slashed. Not just punctured—shredded. Long, deliberate cuts that had left the rubber hanging in tatters around the rims.
“I sort of went all Trent Reznor on Brad’s tyres,” Bat said, floating beside the carnage with obvious pride.
I let out possibly the loudest groan of my life. “Bat… Brad might think I did this.”
I could hear it now: You were so desperate for more time with your little ghost boyfriend you damaged my fucking property?!
Bat’s expression crumpled like paper. “Ahh… yeah. Oops. Sorry. Didn’t think of that. It was sort of a spontaneous act done in a blind rage.”
I wiped my hand over my face, stared at the ruined tyres. Then I started laughing. A proper belly laugh that doubled me over, tears threatening to stream down my cheeks as I imagined Brad’s face when he saw his car.
“Oh, whatever. Who cares? This is brilliant, Bat. You’re brilliant.”
His face transformed once again—that devastating grin blooming like sunrise after the longest night. The sight of it hit me square in the chest, warmth flooding through my ribs and settling in my bones, like when a song hits the chorus and you remember why you fell in love with it.
“And any fallout from this is definitely worth it for the extra hours with you.” I reached towards his hand. Bat closed the distance instantly, his fingers squeezing mine.
The back of my mind raced. “I’ve got an idea.”
“Yes?”
“It’s going to require me drawing on Vivian’s excellent acting skills.”
“Fantastic. I believe in you.”
I tugged Bat towards the house. “Come on. And stay with me from now on. You don’t need to be visible, if it’s too much, but just… stay with me. Every second. Every second we have left together.”
“Even if you need to use the bathroom?”
Good point. “I’ll let you know.”
I rushed through the front doors, deliberately making noise, throwing them open with enough force to bang against the walls.
“Brad!” I shouted, injecting panic into my voice. “Brad!”
Loud stomping from upstairs, then he appeared at the top of the staircase. “What?! I’m packing.”
“A ghost just fucking slashed your tyres! Right in front of my eyes!”
Brad’s face drained of colour. He took the stairs two at a time, pushing past me and rushing towards his car. I followed close behind, Bat’s invisible presence a comforting weight beside me.
When he was several metres away from his vehicle, he stopped short, hands flying to his hair, tugging on his short brown strands. “No… no, no, no!” He circled the car, face the very picture of despair.
“It was that woman with the knife,” I said breathlessly, my heart pounding. “The movie star, Vivian Starling. The one who pinned you to the floor—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know who you mean.”
The Lancasters hurried towards us, feet crunching on the gravel.
“Good heavens!” Evelyn gasped, for the second time that day.
A vein on Harrison’s forehead throbbed furiously. He turned to Brad. “You have got to be kidding me. Why did you do this?!”
Brad folded his arms, eyebrows drawing together so aggressively, I took a step back myself. “Why did I do this? Why the fuck would I do this to my own car?! Do you know how expensive tyres are? Do I look made of money? I get paid minimum wage for this stupid job, for crying out loud!”
I nodded gravely. “This is clearly one last attack from the spirits.”
Bat’s snigger tickled my ear.
Harrison grunted in frustration. “Well, I’ll drop you at the train station, then!”
“What?! I’m not just leaving my car here!”
Unleashing a sigh that suggested he was completely done with this situation, and possibly his life, Harrison snarled, “You’d better make arrangements, then!”
Brad’s hands clenched into fists. “Fine! I’m going upstairs to get signal to find a local mechanic.” He turned to me, snapping, “Chaz, you’re coming too.” He probably didn’t want me slacking off by sneaking into another cupboard while he sorted out how we were getting home to London. Fair.
We traipsed upstairs, holding our phones in the air like offerings to the signal gods, hunting for that elusive spot of reception that seemed to move every time we found it.
After a few moments of silence, Brad suddenly asked, “Is he here?”
“Who?” I asked stupidly.
“That… that bloody ghost you got to suck your dick and fuck knows what else!”
Fire flamed across my cheeks. I’d possibly convinced myself that Brad wouldn’t bring it up again. I really, really could have lived without Brad seeing me explode all over Bat’s face.
“No, he’s not here.” It took an immense amount of effort not to look directly at Bat, who stood just beside Brad, pulling the most ridiculous expression—eyes crossed, tongue lolling out.
A pause. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Aren’t you going to explain yourself to me? Explain why I found you in a cupboard getting your dick sucked by some pale twink in eyeliner and a leather collar?”
“Umm…” I started, trying not to laugh at Bat, who had now started miming Brad’s expression with exaggerated outrage. “I was on my way to meet you, but then he persuaded me into the cupboard, and I just sort of went with it…”
“But you’ve been talking to him. This guy.”
“A bit.”
“And what has he been telling you?!”
“Well, that our witch wasn’t a witch, for one. Could have saved us a lot of trouble if we’d listened. And that the thing in the basement needs to stay in the basement.”
“Ah-ha!” Brad’s face lit up as his phone caught signal.
I dutifully sat beside him as we searched for garages to ring. Though being in the middle of the countryside, there weren’t that many options.
The first three calls couldn’t do it today. The fourth quoted eight hundred pounds for four new tyres plus delivery service.
Brad exploded at the poor receptionist. “Eight hundred fucking pounds?!” he screeched into his phone. He turned to me, eyes wild. “You need to pay half. I shouldn’t have to pay it all when I drove you here.”
“Why do we need to pay? You told me it was a company car, a gift for being Gerald’s star employee.”
Brad snorted. “There’s no way Gerald is coughing up for this. I get no maintenance budget in the deal—just the shit car with the logo plastered on it. So if you want to go home, you need to send me half.”
I opened my online banking app and showed him the screen. The balance that was very much minus a very large amount of pounds.
Brad’s eyes widened like saucers. “Jesus,” he muttered. “You weren’t kidding about being broke.”
He rang back the very first garage and agreed for them to come tomorrow, though they couldn’t arrive until the afternoon.
My heart almost exploded with joy as Bat squeezed my hand. A whole extra night together!
“Harrison and Evelyn will just have to live with us here another night,” Brad mumbled.
We found them downstairs to deliver the bad news.
Harrison’s face could have curdled milk. “You have got to be joking.”
“It’s out of our hands,” Brad said, straightening his spine.
Harrison rubbed his temples. “Fine. We’ll stay at the bed and breakfast in Grimthorne town, but we’ll be back tomorrow morning.” He shot us both an icy glare. “And you need to clean up that mess you’ve made in the corridor by then.”
He stormed off, Evelyn offering us a guilty smile before she followed him, leaving Brad and me standing in the lobby. The front door slammed with enough force to rattle the windows.
“What an asshole,” I said.
“For once, Chaz, I agree with you.”