Chapter Twelve
Wednesday. Seven days to Christmas
I put my key in the lock and opened my front door, then gave a start to find Mike standing in the hallway. “What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”
Mike folded his arms. “We need to talk.”
I dropped my bag onto the hall chair, before struggling out of my coat and hanging it on a hook. “How about you let me get into the flat first.” I brushed past him, still amazed that I could feel him, as solid as the cool hand he’d laid on my shoulder, the first night he’d appeared.
Are all ghosts like that? Maybe the stories of ethereal, transparent beings were just that—stories.
Mike followed me into the kitchen. “You can feel me because I choose to let you.”
“Just like you chose to let Ollie feel you smack him on the head with your dick? I’m sure he appreciated that.” I still found it disconcerting that he could read my thoughts.
A snort was the only response I got.
“So, why are you here this time?” It had been a long day, and a stressful journey home. The train had broken down, and we’d had to wait for a replacement on a freezing cold platform. By the time it arrived, there were a lot of loud comments about making complaints.
All I wanted was a hot meal, a drink, and to flop down in front of the TV.
A text or a call would make everything better, and I knew it. Apart from sending me a photo of the unicorn, a sign in front of it bearing the words, ‘Hello. My name is Sparkle,’ there’d been no word from Ollie.
It’s my fault. If I hadn’t made such a stupid move…
“Why haven’t you called Ollie?” Mike made the question sound casual, but I knew him too well.
“How do you know I haven’t?” Then I snickered. “Stupid me. You know everything. You’ve probably been hanging around here, just not showing yourself.”
Mike snorted. “This might come as a surprise to you, but I don’t spend every minute of my time watching you. I do have friends I visit now and again.”
I stared at him. “So I’m not the only one who gets ghostly visitations? Just be careful not to pop in too abruptly on your mum. I’m not sure her heart could take the strain.”
“She says hi, by the way.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“Yeah, and she wants to know if you’re dressing warmly. She says you should wear that jumper she knitted for you.” Mike’s grin told me he was thoroughly enjoying the conversation.
“The one with the ugliest Father Christmas ever?” We’d both laughed about it when I opened the present.
Then Mike burst into laughter. “Only kidding. As if I’d scare her like that.”
“But you’re perfectly okay popping in and out of my life,” I commented.
“That’s different.”
I nodded slowly. “You’re here for a reason. I get it. You’re on a mission.” I opened the freezer and grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a lasagne. I shoved it into the microwave and set the timer.
Mike stood in the doorway. “I know why you haven’t called him. I know what you’re up to.”
I arched my eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware I was up to anything. And in case you haven’t noticed, he hasn’t called me either.”
“So this is a case of ‘he hasn’t called so why should I’?” Mike rolled his eyes. “How mature.”
I’d had enough. “Look, I just want to unwind, okay? I’ve had a long crappy day, and I need to relax.”
“And all I’m saying is you’d relax better if you had a friend here.”
“A specific friend.”
Mike smiled. “Now you’re getting it.” He peered at the tree. “It looks better with the lights on.” And just like that, the tree lights winked on.
I blinked. “Neat trick.”
Mike’s smile was still evident. “Oh, believe me, there’s more where that came from.” He faded from view, just as a bauble fell off the tree.
I sighed and went over to pick it up. It was one of Ollie’s homemade ones, and looking at it, I realized I hadn’t seen it at the time. A colourful rainbow adorned one side, with the words ‘Love Wins’ below it in red.
“How apt,” I murmured. Then I saw there was neat writing on the reverse. It was a quote from John Updike: ‘We are most alive when we’re in love.’
Ain’t that the truth?
I hung the bauble in a prominent spot, and gazed at it. On an impulse, I grabbed my phone and pulled up Ollie’s number. I stared at it for a moment, my heart racing.
Call him. What harm can it do?
My hand trembled slightly as I hit Call. After four rings, he answered. “Hey. How was your day?”
We’re going to indulge in small talk?
“Don’t ask. And that’s partly why I’m calling. I wondered if you were doing anything this evening.”
The silence that followed made my heart sink. “Actually, I’m just getting ready to go out. Some of the office staff are going out for a meal tonight, and I said I’d go too.” Another pause. “Sorry. Another night?”
“Sure,” I replied, more light-heartedly than I felt. “Have a great evening.”
“You too.” Yet another pause. “Was… was there anything else?”
Yes, I wanted to shout. Tell me what was so bad about me giving you a peck on the lips. “No, that’s all. I’ll let you get on.”
“Oh, okay.” He sounded a little disappointed. “Goodnight, then.” He disconnected.
I tossed my phone onto the couch, thankful that Mike hadn’t reappeared. I really didn’t want to see him right then. I was certain he’d be telling me to call Ollie back.
I was going to eat my lasagne, watch something mindless on TV, then go to bed.
And try not to think about Ollie.
Love doesn’t always win, does it? Then I gave myself a hard mental shake. Love? Talk about exaggeration. I’ve known him for barely two weeks. Where does love come into it?
Except that didn’t explain the ache inside me.
Friday. Five days before Christmas.
“Did I hear you say you’re not coming to the party tonight?” Janice asked as she was putting on her coat. “Aw, that’s a shame.”
“Yeah. I double booked myself,” I lied. The truth was, I was in no mood to be sociable. Ollie hadn’t called, not even to tell me how his evening had gone. It was slowly dawning how important he’d become to me.
Apparently, that didn’t go both ways. And deep down, that hurt more than I could let on.
“Oh well. Have a good night, whatever you’re doing.” She gave me a warm smile as she headed out of the office. Other staff waved at me as they exited, wishing me a good evening and telling me what a great party I was going to miss.
The only party I wanted to attend would be a very, very small one, with just two attendees.
I put on my coat and scarf, picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder, and followed everyone out of the building. On the street below, the pavements were crowded as people made their way home for the weekend. I tightened my coat around me and headed for the Tube.
The platform was jammed, and I couldn’t get on the first train because of the sheer volume of passengers.
When the next train arrived, I squeezed into the tight space and grabbed the first empty seat I could find—until a heavily pregnant woman got on at the next stop, and no one offered her a seat.
I tugged on her sleeve as she stood clinging to a pole, her face tired.
“Here,” I said, getting up. “You look like you need this more than I do.”
Her face lit up. “Oh, thank you. My feet are killing me. To say nothing of my back.” She sank down thankfully.
That was kind. Mike was squashed between a very large man who was trying to read the financial pages, and a young man who was nodding away to whatever music poured out of his enormous headphones.
You’d have done the same.
Yes, but no one here did. He cocked his head to one side. How’s Ollie?
My chest tightened. I wouldn’t know. We haven’t spoken since Wednesday.
Mm-hmm.
I took a deep breath. And what does that mean?
Mike frowned. Uh, it means mm-hmm.
I gave an internal snort. Oh no, you don’t. I know you, remember? If you’ve got something to say, then just come out with it. It’s not like I can stop you, right? I mean, I haven’t been able to thus far. I was doing my best to keep a straight face.
Mike widened his eyes. Ooh, someone’s a little cranky. Want to tell me about it?
The urge to shrug was enormous, but it would have looked downright weird. What’s to tell? It’s not like you don’t already know. And besides, it wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have with a ghost in the middle of a jam-packed train during rush hour.
Fine. Mike set his jaw. We’ll talk later. But we will talk about this.
I was about to respond when he winked out of sight.
I wish you wouldn’t do that!
Mike’s chuckle filled my head. What can I say? It’s a ghost thing.
Yeah, sure. More like Mike’s way of ensuring he got the last word.
Another wry chuckle. But of course.
I had to smile. I was never going to win, so I might as well just accept defeat. Fine. We’ll talk when I get off this damn train.
I’ll be on the platform waiting.
I walked briskly, anxious to get out of the cold and into the warm. Mike had no trouble keeping up, but it was disconcerting to see his dick flapping with each stride.
Never mind my cock. I need you to talk to me.
I sighed. I kissed him on the ice. Just a peck. And later, on the Ferris wheel, I really wanted to kiss him, only I didn’t dare. But…
But what?
There was that ache again. He didn’t mention it. Like, not a word. And since then… I think he’s avoiding me.
I see. Mike went quiet for a moment. Let me ask you a question. Which of us made the first move?
Man, talk about conversational whiplash. Excuse me?
When you and I got together, who made the first move?
I rolled my eyes. Me. Tina, remember? Like I could ever forget.
Then let me rephrase the question. Which of us made the first move when you weren’t drunk? Because if memory serves, you fidgeted and stressed until I kissed you. Why?
That was easy. I wasn’t sure if you liked me. The wind picked up suddenly, and I shivered.
And now you’re not sure with Ollie. Did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, he’s feeling the same?
Maybe that little peck on the lips left him conflicted, and he’s waiting to see what you’re going to do.
I shivered as Mike’s hand touched mine. Your relationship with Ollie, such as it is, will need both of you to work on it.
But you can’t wait if it’s something—or someone—you want. And you do want him, don’t you?
How could I answer that? This was Mike talking, the man I’d loved. How could I admit to wanting someone else?
Mike let out a low growl. Okay. I can see I’m going to have to come at this from a different angle. I have to go.
Go? Go where? His abrupt mood change left me perplexed.
I need to see a man about a horse. Or, maybe a stubborn mule. I’ll be back. Then he was gone.
I came to a halt in the middle of the empty pavement. “Mike?” I whispered.
Nothing.
My head still spinning from his swift departure, I hurried home, my hands freezing. By the time I got through my front door, I was sure they’d turned to ice. I held them against the warm radiator, sighing with relief. I’d half-expected to find Mike already in the flat, but there was no sign of him.
Obviously still seeing about a stubborn mule. And wasn’t that intriguing? “He’d better not be talking about me,” I muttered.
After a hot shower, I felt human again. I was wrapped up in my thick robe, with my slipper socks warming my feet. As I was scanning the freezer’s contents for something tasty for dinner, the doorbell rang.
Frowning, I peered through the glass into the street beyond.
Ollie was standing there.