Chapter 2
M y eyes darted towards the dining table, then back to Greg. The woman had disappeared. ‘Oh, thank God you’re here!’ I flung myself at him.
‘What’s wrong?’ He pulled away and studied me, concerned creases lining his forehead, his hands grasping my shoulders. ‘You’re shaking.’
I opened my mouth to explain the trauma that had unfolded but no words came out. Nothing would sound remotely sane.
There was a woman spinning in our clothes dryer.
A ghost did cartwheels across our living room floor.
I see dead housewives.
See? Crazy.
‘Sally?’
‘The wind. It was quite strong and I was worried the tree outside the bedroom might fall on the house.’ Well, it was kind of true. I had worried about that for all of two minutes before I heard the noises coming from the clothes dryer.
Greg pulled me close in an embrace. ‘Oh, honey, is that all? That tree is solid and sturdy and the wind isn’t as strong as it’s been in the past. It won’t fall. ’
‘I guess I overreacted a little, with you not here. I’m not used to having you away overnight so often after your promotion at work.’ I gulped. I’d never lied to him before. It felt weird and wrong and, okay, a little thrilling, but I was only doing it because I had to. I couldn’t tell him our house was haunted, he wouldn’t believe me. Heck, I didn’t know if I believed me.
‘Don’t worry, honey, I’m here now. Let’s get to bed, hey?’ He kept one arm around me and we walked towards the bedroom, his other hand rolling his suitcase across the floor. ‘Oh, would you mind popping this in the dryer for me? It was pouring rain when I got into the taxi.’ He lifted his jacket that had been draped over the top of his suitcase and handed it to me.
I froze. ‘The dryer ?’
‘Yeah, it’s still soaked as you can see.’
And as he couldn’t see, there’d been a ghost in our dryer only moments ago and no way in hell was I going near that appliance again. I never thought a clothes dryer could give me Post Traumatic Stress Disorder but I was sure I’d collapse in a fit of panic if I had to open that circular door.
‘Um, I’ll just…’ I walked to the dining table, which also had PTSD potential thanks to the memory of Ghost Woman perched on it. ‘… hang it on this chair overnight. No need to waste electricity when good old air can do the trick.’ I forced a smile as I positioned the jacket on the back of the chair, and from behind it looked like the ghost of a headless man sitting at the table waiting for his dinner. Not that he’d be able to eat it on account of the missing head, but still. Freaky.
‘As long as it doesn’t get that rain smell. Maybe it should be washed instead, whack it in the washing machine overnight?’
‘No. Let it dry first. It’ll be fine.’ I ushered him to the bedroom before he decided to unpack his suitcase and instigate a washing and drying spree.
Greg kicked off his shoes and yawned. ‘I need a quick shower, back in a sec.’
I huddled under the covers as still as a rock until he returned, thankful that a certain woman didn’t return. Maybe Greg had scared her off. Maybe she’d had her fun and was making her way down the street, visiting every house to see what other terror she could evoke. But the woman had said she’d dated someone I knew, so it mustn’t have been a random visit. Did she mean Greg? Greg had never mentioned anyone he knew dying. Maybe it was Rick. My brother was never that talkative about his love-life, or apparent lack of one. Or it could be Dale. But why would she haunt me, why not Dale’s sister or someone else closer to him?
Greg’s warm, fresh-smelling body sidled up close to me and I sighed with relief. It was all okay now. I was safe. I strung my arm across his chest and nestled in.
‘Mmm,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve missed you.’
‘I’ve missed you too.’ I smiled and kissed his forehead, then his nose, then his mouth, and he moaned in that way that told me he wasn’t quite ready to fall asleep. He rolled on top of me and caressed my face, sprinkling me with warm, soft kisses, his lips still wet from the shower. I wrapped my arms around him and savoured his affection. It had been two weeks since we’d had any. As his kisses trailed down my neck I ran my fingers through his damp hair, watching the shadows from the windswept tree dance across the ceiling.
‘Sure, go right ahead. Forget I’m even here!’ Ghost Woman appeared above us, her arms crossed and face creased in annoyance.
‘Argh!’ I pushed Greg off and scrambled to my feet, yanking the blanket off the bed and wrapping it around me. My heart pounded and my nerves sharpened at the ready like soldiers awaiting attack.
Ghost Woman laughed her ear-splitting laugh.
‘Sal, what on earth is wrong?’ Greg’s dumbfounded expression replaced his desire-filled one from before, as he lay semi-reclined on his back, propped up by his elbows.
There’s a ghost watching us make out .
I drew a deep breath and clenched the blanket to my chest. ‘Um… it was just…’ I glanced at the ghost who was circling her hand as though waiting for me to spill the beans. ‘There was a spider. On the roof.’ I pointed.
‘Where?’ Greg stood and turned on the bedside lamp, peering at the roof. ‘I don’t see it.’
‘You don’t see anything ?’ The woman was still there, floating near the ceiling.
‘Only the peeling paint in the corners. We really must get this place repainted.’
Oh great. I was dealing with an annoying, perverted ghost and all he could think about was home renovations?
‘Are you sure it wasn’t just a shadow?’ he asked, glancing around the room, lifting pillows and peering behind furniture.
‘Oh. Maybe it was. It looked like a spider, but I’m probably still on edge from before.’
‘Well, I can’t see anything. Let’s forget about it and continue where we left off, yeah?’ He flashed a grin and the room darkened as he flicked the switch.
My body was tense and the moment was gone. I couldn’t exactly get in the mood with some otherworldly being floating above us, could I? ‘Actually, I think I’ll go get a drink. I need to calm my mind.’ Even though I knew the woman might follow me out there, I had to get out of the bedroom. Sure, I was scared, but I wanted to tell her off. How dare she interrupt our… our… our romantic endeavours. What a cow.
I hesitated near the door and turned back to my fiancé. ‘Ah, Greg? I was just thinking… we’ve never really talked much about our past relationships. Who were you with before me again?’ I leaned against the doorframe like it was the most casual thing to chat about at this moment in time.
‘Huh? Why are you asking this now?’
‘Curious, that’s all.’
‘Becky. Remember? She was the one before you. Ran off overseas with that Italian guy?’
‘Oh yeah. And before her?’
‘Sal, do we really have to get into this now? C’mon!’
‘Did you ever date anyone who, I dunno, later… died, or anything?’
‘What? Why would you ask that? Sal, I think you should have some of that chamomile tea or whatever it is and chill out.’
‘I’m just interested. Did you?’
‘No. I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t exactly kept in touch with all my exes, so how would I know? But I’m sure they’re all alive and well. ’
‘What about a redhead? Did you ever date a woman with red hair?’
He shuffled awkwardly on the bed and sat with his hands clasped around his bent knees. ‘Um, I might have, a couple of them had red hair, I think.’
‘You think? Have there been that many women that you can’t remember?’ Whatever ‘mood’ I’d had before was long gone now.
‘Oh, Sal, give me a break. It’s late and I’m tired. I can’t think straight. And women are always changing their hair colour, it’s hard to keep up.’
‘Fine.’ I sighed, and exited the bedroom. I wanted this night to be over. As soon as I could say my piece to this woman, I’d go straight to sleep and leave this crazy night in the past where it belonged.
I switched on the kitchen light. A sudden noise sounded to my left and I flipped my head to the side. A photo in a frame lay face down on the floor. Had she knocked it off, or was it a draught? Where was she? I inched closer to the fallen photo, cautiously, as though it might spring up and hit me in the face if I got too close. I picked up the frame. The photo was of Greg in his golf attire, proudly standing with one foot crossed over the other, his hand resting on his expensive golf club set like it was his most prized possession. Well, it probably was. Apart from me, of course. Not that I was a possession, but I’m sure if there was a fire he’d grab me first and not his golf clubs.
Hang on. If she did knock it over. That probably meant…
‘Uh-huh.’ Ghost Woman manifested right in front of me, nodding. ‘Me and Greggy-boy were once an item.’
I glared at her. ‘So you think you can just come in here and get in our way, huh?’ I whispered in the harshest whisper I could muster. ‘Well you can go jump. Greg’s mine, so leave us alone!’
She stepped backwards and seemed to shrink, then sat on the floor and hugged her knees, her head bowed.
Oh geez. Talk about giving me the guilts. Maybe I shouldn’t be so hard on her. She wasn’t exactly in the most enviable position right now, being dead and all.
‘Hey, what’s your name?’ I asked. ‘Do you want me to, ah, let Greg know what happened to you? Is that it?’ She shook her head. ‘Then what do you want?’
She stood and glanced around as if she was considering her options, then her gaze focused beyond the kitchen window and her eyes widened. ‘I want to swing on that!’ A swirl of colours replaced her form, then nothing. I dashed to the window and peered outside into the small yard, the moonlight casting an eerie glow on the roof of our shed. Colours swirled again and she appeared outside, her hands gripping the clothesline as she swung around in circles, a childlike grin of delight on her face.
I shook my head in disbelief, and as I turned around my gaze fell on the invitation stuck to the fridge with a Basic First Aid instruction magnet. Bridal Bonding Weekend . My shoulders relaxed. Only one week to go and I’d be enjoying a couple of rewarding days away with my best friends. No ghosts invited.