Chapter 5 John #2
Mia’s expression becomes even more condescending. ‘So, as an actual ghost, you have to understand the term, right? Surely there are people you suddenly stopped communicating with because you were …’ She trails off, gesturing in John’s general direction.
‘Yes, but I didn’t have any choice in the matter,’ John objects. ‘This James person just up and decided not to talk to you any more, without giving any sort of explanation as to why.’
‘Oh, I know why,’ Mia grinds out. ‘I just don’t want to admit it. I cooked the man the best meal of his life and then afterwards … well, let’s just say he didn’t leave disappointed that night.’ Mia’s words are belligerent, but there’s a slight vulnerability shining in her eyes.
John slowly nods. ‘Ah. So, you finally slept with your boyfriend after—’
‘Two months.’
‘Two months. Wow, really? Well done. That’s some impressively delayed self-gratification. And now he’s not returning your calls.’
‘My texts. People text now, John. Calls are exclusively to make doctor’s appointments.’
‘Right, right, of course I’ve seen everyone with their pocket phones … But the point is, you’re wondering why, exactly, he’s gone silent.’
‘Why he’s ghosted me. Yes.’
John shakes his head, an amused smile stretching his cheeks. ‘No, I really don’t care for that phrase. It’s quite offensive actually. But the answer is obvious. He stopped talking to you because he’s a dick.’
Mia’s eyes widen. For a moment, John thinks she might laugh, but then her face twists and she drops her gaze. ‘I guess that’s just the kind of man I attract, the ones I think are into me, but turns out are just using me. I’m not sure what that says about me. That I’m ridiculously naive?’
John shakes his head. ‘Everyone wants a happily ever after. You can’t fault yourself for that.’
Mia looks out the window. ‘Maybe. But you know what, John? I’m tired of all this. I can’t believe I got dumped right before Christmas. Do you know how hard I had to work to try the whole dating thing again?’ She shrugs her shoulders. ‘I know better than to get my hopes up.’
She’s had a tough go of it, that’s abundantly clear.
John begins to wonder whether there’s something he can do to make things a little better for Mia while she’s at the manor.
Of course, she’s only here for Christmas and will leave soon after, but he is finding it incredibly refreshing to talk to another human being.
And now he thinks about it, maybe helping her could do him some good too.
Even if he can’t let himself get used to her company, why not enjoy it while he’s got it?
‘OK, so here’s what I propose, Mia. You deserve to have something go your way.
Go back to the big house and grab your things.
Take over the cottage while you’re here – it’s really quite lovely, and it will give you some space.
’ His heart – or what feels like his heart, since his real one stopped years ago of course – sets to pounding.
He’s issued this invitation to Mia lightly, casually, but he finds he’s quite desperate to get her here, to be involved in her life, to hear more about these shenanigans with her family and this Sam character and that – not ‘ghoster’ – non-responder.
To his surprise, he finds that he somehow, suddenly, inexplicably … cares.
Mia snorts. ‘So generous of you. Where will you go then? No offence, but bunking with a ghost was not on my holiday to-do list.’
John grins back at her. He’s going to play it cool. He can’t let her know how desperate he is for the company, or he’ll just scare her off. ‘I’ll wander around the big house when you want your privacy. Don’t worry. I know how to make myself scarce.’
‘You can go to the big house?’ Mia says, narrowing her eyes. ‘I mean, you’re not … bound here to the cottage? So to speak?’
‘I’m actually able to move about the entire property,’ he says.
‘And the big house is large enough there will be a quiet corner or two for me to linger. I might listen to your Aunt Gertie’s ramblings – did you know she’s quite fond of ghosts?
It’s always very entertaining to hear her opinions on the spirit world.
Maybe I’ll even try my hand at traditional haunting, perhaps it will be fun.
And, when you need to vent a bit, blow off some steam, I’ll be here to listen! ’
It’s this vision of getting to hear more about Mia’s life that exerts the strongest pull on John.
Listening to her just now, all her mundane troubles, he felt like he did as a child, looking in the window of a toy shop at Christmas, palms pressed against the cold glass, his breath making a circle of fog.
Gazing upon the marvellous things that maybe he couldn’t have, but he was glad to know existed.
Heavens, how he misses living.
‘Wait, Aunt Gertie believes in ghosts?’
‘Yes, I’m afraid she wasn’t left much choice thanks to Mags’ antics.’
‘Sorry, who?’
‘Oh, of course, she pre-dates you. Mags was the old cook at the manor in the eighteen hundreds, died in some awful kitchen accident and was stuck on the property for nearly two centuries. She was here when I arrived and helped to ease me into the whole “being a ghost” thing, for which I will always be grateful.’ John smiles fondly to himself before going on, ‘Mags was more prone to some light haunting than I am, occasional shattered crockery or wailing in the corridors, that sort of thing. It never seemed to put off your dear Aunt Gertie, though. She took it remarkably well, all things considered.’
‘Sounds like Gertie,’ Mia responds with a chuckle, before turning to John with a confused look. ‘Wait, if Mags is actually haunting the house, how come I’ve never seen it?’
John hesitates, an unexpected lump rising in his throat.
‘Well, Mags isn’t exactly around any more.
She passed over soon after I arrived. She was my only company in the last thirty years, and I must admit, I miss her quite a lot …
’ He casts his eyes skywards for a moment, before gruffly clearing his throat.
‘I do find comfort in the fact that her legacy lives on in Gertie’s ramblings, though.
Helps to ease an old ghost’s heart.’ John pauses for a moment to gather himself, before clapping his hands suddenly and saying with a bright smile, ‘Anyway, back to the matter at hand!’
Mia jumps, startled by the abrupt change in mood. ‘Sorry, what matter? Gertie’s opinions on the spirit world?’
‘No, no, my dear, your move down to the cottage!’ John laughs as Mia rolls her eyes.
‘Tell you what, why don’t I sweeten the deal by gathering your things and bringing them down here myself?
Don’t worry, no one will see a disembodied suitcase floating around.
I’m pretty good at skulking. Call it an art I’ve perfected over the last three decades. ’
‘I don’t know,’ says Mia. ‘I mean, I’m in my childhood bedroom. Yes, it’s a bit crowded, but …’
Think, think, John tells himself. Suddenly it hits him.
‘One bathroom,’ he says, in a final, desperate attempt. ‘One bathroom, six bedrooms. You can’t tell me you enjoy sharing with that many people. Wouldn’t it be better to have an entire bathroom to yourself?’
‘Mmmm,’ murmurs Mia. ‘The toilet per capita ratio is rather lower than it should be …’ Her eyes glimmer, a smile teasing her lips into a little curve, and he’s pretty sure that was the winning stroke.
John stands, preparing to head out. Mia holds up her hand. ‘Wait. John, be honest with me.’
Uh-oh. A sick feeling burbles in his already-disturbed stomach. Is she going to ask how he died or why he hasn’t moved on?
Mia blinks at him with her big eyes. ‘Just be honest. Are you going to possess me in my sleep?’
John lets out a relieved laugh. ‘Of course not, Mia.’ He leans down, hands on his hips. ‘I wouldn’t do it while you were sleeping. I’d do it while you were awake, so you could be properly mortified.’
Mia nods, apparently satisfied by this answer. ‘Perfect. Your dark humour is really a breath of fresh air, John.’
A surge of joy fills his chest. He mock salutes her and heads towards the back door.
‘Wait, what are you doing? Why not take the shortest way?’ She points out the window towards the big house.
‘Because my indigestion is just starting to settle down, no thanks to you.’ He ducks out the door, Mia’s laughter trailing after him.
As he makes his way up towards the big house, he can’t help but wonder why she’s able to interact with him.
It’s startling, after years just sitting around here, invisible to everyone who’s occupied the estate.
He hasn’t laughed this much since those pleasant evenings so long ago with Alastair.
But he won’t think about that now – no point in dredging up old, painful memories.
Better to stay focused on the present, and the tiny Christmas miracle the universe has sent his way – someone to talk to.