Chapter 26
When I arrive home, Jamie is sitting in the living room with Lenny curled up on his lap. Oliver is in the kitchen.
‘Hello, Nelly.’ Jamie beams. His blond hair is spiky at the front. He’s wearing a navy shirt, jeans and polished brown shoes. I’m sensing he’s off out after as the air is thick with his citrus heavy aftershave. ‘It’s nice to see you in the daytime. Ollie is in the kitchen making something.’
‘A mess knowing Oliver.’ I give Jamie a wry smile, and he chuckles.
‘How was your day?’ Jamie asks as Oliver comes into the living room, carrying two plates of pie and chips.
‘Dramatic.’
Oliver hands me a plate. ‘For you. I made the pie myself.’
Our fingers touch, and I wait for the white light. There’s nothing but silence. This is strange. It was working earlier when Miranda forced me to hug her as she was emotional about Frank.
‘Nelly – are you okay?’
I blink several times and nod before taking my plate to my chair. ‘You didn’t need to cook for me.’
He casts me a sheepish smile and hands Jamie a plate. ‘I do, Nelly. I have been the world’s worst flatmate.’
Jamie laughs. ‘Nelly, take what he’s offering and milk more out of him.’
I smile but I am only half-listening. A thought has rushed to the front of my mind and requires urgent consideration – what if my curse doesn’t work on Oliver?
Beads of sweat have gathered on my brow, and my heart is hammering inside my chest. Every time I touch Oliver, I don’t see a vision.
He’s the only person my curse goes glitchy on.
After putting down my plate of food, I reach into my bag and take out a pencil and the notebook I used when I went to see Cynthia and when I interviewed Oliver.
The front two pages are filled with the questions I wanted to ask my parents when Cynthia contacted them in the afterlife, and the next page is Oliver’s interview assessment, which is a sea of ticks.
I flick to the empty fourth page and write:
Theory – my curse doesn’t work on Oliver.
I loved science lessons at school. I loved making chemicals react, and I also enjoyed undertaking experiments where you had to prove or disprove something. I look at my theory. Now, all I need to do is start conducting mini experiments.
Jamie catches my attention by gesturing towards a beanbag on the floor. ‘I bought Ollie a housewarming gift. It’ll keep him away from your chair. He has told me all about it, and you do have an impressive set-up there. I don’t blame you for guarding it.’
I smile. ‘Thank you. Oliver did try to bribe me with a signed copy of one of his books to sit here.’
Oliver enters, carrying a plate of food for himself. ‘I thought it was a good deal.’
Jamie laughs. ‘Nelly, I would have refused that crappy deal, too.’
Oliver grins and sits down on the beanbag, resting the food on his legs. ‘Nelly, tell us about what’s going on with Frank and Miranda. Dad texted me to say Frank has had to take emergency leave. He’s got someone pregnant, and that person is not Miranda.’
‘Eight months ago, Frank had a one-night stand with his ex-girlfriend, whom he bumped into on a night out,’ I explain, after swallowing my first mouthful of Oliver’s homemade pie. It’s delicious, but I dread to think what my kitchen looks like.
Oliver gasps. ‘Frank and his ex-girlfriend? How many years has he been with Miranda?’
It’s hard to believe. Even though my curse has always shown Frank pushing a baby’s buggy, I have never thought it could have been from a one-night stand. I never envisioned he’d end up fathering a child.
I recount what Miranda told me. ‘Frank and Miranda have been together for fifteen years. He left his ex-girlfriend after meeting Miranda at a cocktail party. He was out for a darts club night out eight months ago, and his ex-girlfriend was in the same pub. Apparently, she thrashed him at darts, made all his mates laugh and then invited him back to hers for a nightcap. Frank never told Miranda as he claimed it was “just a blip” and didn’t think she would ever find out. ’
Oliver and Jamie exchange bewildered glances.
‘He left his wallet under her bed and told Miranda he lost it. His ex-girlfriend turned up at his office last week to tell him she’s pregnant.
The weird thing is that before they split up, they were trying for a baby.
Nothing was working. Fifteen years later she’s pregnant with his child.
He’s told Miranda a child won’t change his life.
He claims he still loves her, and that they would be silly to throw away fifteen years of a relationship. ’
‘It will change him,’ says Oliver in a serious tone, which makes me glance in his direction. He bows his head.
‘Nelly,’ says Jamie quickly. ‘I hear you and Ollie are sharing a bed, and he’s built a pillow wall.’ I sense Jamie is trying to change the conversation. I look at Oliver, who is still staring at the wooden floor. Something is going on, and I intend to find out.
‘Yes, Oliver is a man of hidden talents.’
Jamie chuckles and tucks into his meal.
For a few minutes, we all devour Oliver’s food in silence.
When he finishes, Jamie looks at his phone. ‘I’d better get off as I have a first date tonight. She’s called Nia, likes paddleboarding, chess, and sushi.’
I smile and hope she likes his aftershave. ‘Good luck.’
He nods. ‘Fingers crossed. I’ve not had much luck when it comes to romance.’
‘Join the club,’ scoffs Oliver, shaking his head.
I watch as Jamie glances at Oliver. ‘Will you be okay tonight?’ he asks with a concerned look. I recall Oliver telling me he had to go out so much in the evenings because Jamie was lonely. That wasn’t true. My curiosity has piqued. What are these two hiding?
Oliver checks his phone. ‘I need to go out too now.’
‘You can phone me if things don’t go to plan,’ says Jamie.
‘Are you going anywhere nice?’ I ask Oliver.
He shoots me a strained smile. I can see his jaw is clenched and his face is taut.
‘I have to go see someone.’ He gets to his feet and heads for the kitchen.
I notice his phone is lying on the floor.
I’m about to pick it up when Jamie casts me a worried glance, which throws me off track.
What is going on with these two? What is Oliver up to?
‘See you, Nelly. I’ll walk Ollie out.’
I hear them walk down the hallway, open the door, and I hear Oliver shout, ‘LENNY!’
With a groan, I rise from my chair. As I race towards the hallway, I pray they haven’t let him escape.
To my relief, Jamie is holding Lenny. He strides up the hallway towards me, carrying my cat.
As he approaches, I remember my theory. This will be my first experiment.
I make sure our fingers touch. There’s a flash of white light, and I can see Jamie standing, talking to a young woman with long brown hair.
She’s telling him that she wasn’t playing chess the other evening; she was in bed with her ex-boyfriend, who also happens to be her paddleboard instructor.
Poor Jamie. I can now say my curse works on him.
Jamie laughs as he hands over my cat. ‘Lenny is a menace.’
‘I’ve forgotten my phone,’ says Oliver, still by the front door. He races up the hallway, smiles, and as he passes, I make sure our hands touch. ‘See you tonight, bed partner.’ He chuckles.
I wait for the white light. There’s nothing but silence: no white light and no vision. I gulp. My curse doesn’t work on Oliver.
This is odd. My head is bubbling with thoughts. I can’t just do one experiment on each of them. I need more validation.
‘Jamie,’ I say, thinking of an excuse to touch him. Spotting my loose lace, I ask, ‘Will you hold Lenny while I tie my shoelace?’
He comes over, grabs Lenny and in doing so, our hands touch. There’s a flash of white light, and the same vision I saw earlier. This validates my thinking. My curse works on Jamie.
After tying my shoelace, I take Lenny back, who is now casting me one of his evil feline stares. If there is one thing Lenny hates, it is being passed around like a hot potato.
‘I’m sorry,’ I whisper.
As Oliver walks back down the hallway with his phone, I smile and once again make sure our arms brush. Nothing happens. No flash of light. No vision showing how love ends for him. My theory is confirmed.
Why is my curse not working when I touch Oliver?
The sound of my flat door closing behind them triggers an avalanche of thoughts inside my head. I put Lenny down, and he scowls at me before hurrying away.
What is going on with my curse? Why does it stop working with Oliver?
I go to my chair and take out my pencil and notebook.
On my page I mark down Jamie’s name and put a line through it.
I then circle Oliver’s name. Chewing on the end of my pencil, I decide that I need to undertake more experiments with different people.
The thought makes me gulp. I am going to have to touch people intentionally.
On a separate page, I brainstorm some reasons why I can’t see anything when I touch Oliver:
He’s magically protected against curses.
He can’t experience love any more due to heartbreak.
He has written so many happy endings that he’s developed curse immunity.
I sit and stare at my ideas. None of them stand out. I’ll keep this list in case any more ideas come to me.
The kitchen is messy. He didn’t get a chance to tidy up before he went out. I decide to sort it out and restore my high standards of kitchen cleanliness.
To my surprise, an hour later, I hear the door to my flat open and close. I gasp as Oliver walks up the hallway and strides into the living room. He smiles. ‘I’m back. It’s our second night in the bed share. I wouldn’t miss it.’
He sounds like he’s trying to make a go of our new agreement, which is nice. I watch him closely as he removes his jacket and runs a hand through his hair. He pops his head into the kitchen. ‘You cleaned up. Nelly, I was going to do it.’
‘I like cleaning.’
‘If I make a mess, you need to leave it as I will sort it. I feel bad when I see you’ve tidied up for me. Will do that for me?’
‘I promise.’
He watches a film on his iPad while I read more of Margo Lane’s book.
The urge to ask where he went is strong, but I refrain and see whether he gives me any clues.
He’s wearing his fitted white T-shirt, and I find myself sneaking a glance at how it skims his broad shoulders and clings to every hint of muscle.
Oliver has turned something ordinary, like a plain T-shirt, into something dangerously distracting.
He catches me staring at him and heat rushes to my cheeks.
I remind myself that Oliver is a walking red flag for several reasons: I can’t see anything when we touch, he’s hurting, and he’s a romance author.
Eva sends me a WhatsApp to say hello, and we engage in a bit of friendly banter about the books she’s been reviewing, the trials and tribulations of living with her mum, and how I am getting on with Oliver.
While he sits opposite me on the sofa, engrossed in a film, I explain to her how my curse doesn’t seem to work on him.
I also screenshot my reasons why it’s not working and send them to her.
Her response is interesting. She thinks the idea of Oliver developing immunity through his romance books is funny.
She makes me smile by saying that every kiss scene he writes adds an extra layer of curse protection, and that he probably finishes his manuscripts during a full moon.
Out of all my ideas, she thinks the heartbreak one is perhaps the most likely and reminds me how much Molly hurt him.
I notice that she’s not told me to stay away from him like she did outside my flat door.
It feels nice to be chatting to Eva again, and we both agree to meet up for a cocktail soon. I go to bed early as I am tired. However, annoyingly, I lay awake waiting for him.