Chapter 3
Chapter Three
JOSH
When Kieran turns in the front gate, I can’t deny the sensation of peace that washes over me.
I’m not even sure exactly why or how it happens.
There’s the faint tingling of energy against my skin, the way it sometimes feels when a ghost is really close to me.
But it doesn’t feel bad or scary. It’s… welcoming?
“So… before you said you don’t know why the ghosts can manifest here on the estate?” There’s got to be a reason.
“That’s right,” Kieran confirms. “Hattie?”
“We never used to be able to,” she agrees. “It started around the time the house was closed. How long’s that now, dear?”
“About fifty years,” Kieran tells her, and yep, he can hear her now. That’s so trippy. Five minutes ago, out on the road, I needed to interpret for them, but now that we’re on the estate, bam!
I look out at the house as we approach. After all the time I’ve spent on the website and looking at people’s vacation pics online, it’s familiar to me, but there’s a sense of coming home that I’ve never had before.
Kieran pulls the car around the side of the house to an area marked Staff Parking Only and parks. “Let’s go in the front entrance your first time,” he suggests. “I’ll show you the staff door later.”
“Fine by me.” Excitement is fizzing in my veins now.
“Today’s a good day for a tour,” he says as we walk around the front and I admire the manicured gardens. “There aren’t any school groups due and no events until tomorrow night. We’ve got a few guests, but mostly it’s quiet. That’s why I scheduled your interview today.”
“And there was a big to-do with the school group yesterday,” Hattie adds, “so most of the ghosts are resting. It’s the perfect time for you to look around without being mobbed.”
Ahh… yay?
“Great,” I manage, although I can’t deny that part of me is excited about being able to openly interact with ghosts, and even help human-ghost relations. Maybe I should ask Kieran to make my official title Ghost Ambassador.
I could wear a cape.
Or not.
But that reminds me… “Hattie,” I begin as we walk up the front steps, “are any of the ghosts likely to feel uncomfortable if I wear nail polish?” It’s my one vice. I’ve never really been into cosmetics, but I like having colorful, sometimes sparkly nails.
“Pfft.” She waves a hand. “Not likely. Maybe Grumpy Joe, but he’s got a problem with everything.
Don’t you worry about that, dear. Wear what makes you happy, and I’ll deal with the malcontents.
” There’s a somewhat militant gleam in her eye on that last bit, and I resolve to stay on Hattie’s good side as much as possible.
Stepping into the house, I find myself in a charming entrance hall dominated by a reception desk.
To the left, there’s an opening into a cloakroom, lined with lockers and hooks for coats.
Through the opening to the right is a gorgeous living room area, furnished to look like we’ve stepped back to the eighteenth century.
I recognize it from the pictures on the website.
If I remember the map on the website right, down the hallway is a series of rooms opening into each other that have been turned into a museum of local history.
There’s a peppy-looking guy who might still be in high school sitting behind the reception desk, wearing period costume.
His gray plaid coat is double-breasted, with wide lapels, and the front ends sharply at the waist though it looks like it’s longer at the back.
There’s a white shirt under it with a very high collar and a thin scarf wrapped around a few times and knotted.
I can’t see his pants behind the desk, but his shoulder-length hair is a complete contrast to his outfit, beautifully done in unicorn colors.
It’s not a look I’d go for myself, but he rocks it.
The jacket looks uncomfortable, though, and I’m glad I’m not going to be required to wear one every day.
“Hi!” he calls. “Kieran, I’ve got messages for you.” He smiles brightly at me while waving a fistful of message slips at Kieran. “I’m Skye.”
“Josh,” I reply, distracted by the ghost wandering in from the hallway.
She appears to be in her early twenties and has seemingly embraced style from every decade of the twentieth century, from bell-bottomed jeans to a tailored jacket with massive shoulder pads, white wrist-length gloves, saddle shoes, a flapper headband complete with feather, and masses of jewelry.
I can’t even count the number of necklaces, rings, and bracelets she’s wearing. It’s an interesting effect.
“Josh is going to be our admin assistant and after-hours guest liaison,” Kieran says, taking the messages while I try to focus on Skye and not the new ghost. Hattie’s gone to talk to her, but neither of the other two living humans have noticed her, so I assume she’s not manifesting to them.
“Great!” Skye exclaims. “I run reception and handle whatever admin Kieran doesn’t have time for, so we’ll be working together a lot.”
That kernel of hope from before? It begins to unfurl. Maybe I can actually make some friends here. Maybe my workmates won’t all think I’m looney tunes and hate me.
I smile back. “That sounds great. I love your hair.” It really does look amazing, and I feel like a compliment can only help this situation.
“Thank you!” He seems about to say something more, but Hattie and the other ghost drift our way, grabbing my attention.
“Josh,” Hattie begins, “I’d like you to meet Maisie.”
Skye and Kieran look over, surprised. “Maisie’s here?” Skye asks. “Where?”
“Josh can see ghosts,” Kieran begins, then launches into an explanation, but I’m not listening.
“Aren’t you handsome?” Maisie says coyly, fluttering her eyelashes. “How do you feel about inter-corporeal relationships?”
Inter-corporeal…
Oh my god.
“Uh, I bat for the other team,” I blurt. “So… sorry.”
She pouts. “Oh, boo. It’s been so long since I’ve felt the touch of a man.”
I clamp my teeth down on my lip to keep from smiling. “Same.” Not really—still sore from last night, after all—but it seems mean to boast when she’s unwillingly celibate.
Her stupidly long lashes—can ghosts have fake eyelashes? It’s not something I’ve ever come across before—blink in surprise, and then she laughs. “I like you! You can be my gay best friend.” She looks over at Hattie. “That’s the right way to say it, isn’t it?”
“I believe it should be ‘gay BFF.’”
Maisie nods solemnly. “I should spend more time watching television with you. I’m just so hopeful that one of the guests will want to sweep me off my feet.”
“Aren’t we all, dear.” Hattie pats her arm sympathetically.
I don’t know what to say, so I keep my mouth shut.
“Now, you can run along and tell everyone about Josh, but be sure to remind them that his personal space must be respected. And nobody’s to come and bother him today.
We’re just giving him a tour. He doesn’t start work until Monday. ”
“I’m on it,” Maisie declares. “Welcome to the family, Josh!” She rises up to the ceiling and disappears through it, a sight I should’ve gotten used to by now but still find unsettling.
Hattie watches her go, then leans in close and says, “Maisie’s a dear, but she was somewhat, er, loose in life, and she has a habit of cuddling up to the male guests. Most don’t realize she’s a ghost until they’ve taken her back to their room.”
Well, that’s going to make my job fun.
“I imagine that startles quite a few of them,” I reply blandly.
“Oh yes. There’s a lot of shouting when she reaches completion and can’t maintain a corporeal form anymore. And not the good kind of shouting.”
My jaw drops. Does she mean…?
Ick.
“And I bet Maisie gets upset when she realizes they’re not interested in a… how did she put it? Inter-corporeal relationship?”
Hattie nods, her lips pressed together in sympathy. “Terribly upset. We’ve been trying to tell her she doesn’t need a man to be happy, but old habits are hard to break.” She sighs. “Well, I’ll be off. It’s been a big morning, and I think a rest will do me good.”
“It was great to meet you. Thank you for your help today.” The words sound so trite, but there’s nothing I can say that would truly convey how I feel right now. Hattie’s presence at the interview changed my life.
She pats my arm. “You’re most welcome, dear. I’m glad to have you here.” Then she looks past me to where Kieran and Skye are still talking in low voices. “Bye, boys!”
“Bye, Hattie! Rest up so we can watch Drag Race tomorrow!” Skye calls back.
Hattie follows Maisie, and I ask Skye, “Aren’t we between seasons?”
“Yep, but we’re still on season five. I made the mistake of watching a YouTube clip on my lunch break one day, and now I spend three lunch breaks a week watching old episodes with them so they can catch up.
” He shrugs. “There are worse things in life. Want a tour? Kieran can watch things while he’s returning those calls. ”
I meet Kieran’s gaze, and he nods. “Go for it. Skye knows everything there is to know, anyway. I’ll take over when it’s time to go outside.”
“Let’s do it,” I tell Skye, and he claps his hands, reinforcing my first impression that he might be a teenager. “Do you, uh, work here full-time?” I fish as I follow him into the living room.
“I’m twenty-six, if that’s what you’re asking,” he answers wryly. “Baby face gets me carded everywhere.”
“I didn’t mean—”