Before There Were Angels (6 page)

“Ghosts?
I haven’t seen any ghosts here yet. I never do. People keep telling me about this place or that one being haunted, but when you get there …”

“What about Stevie being pushed down the stairs?”

“I don’t know what that was but I haven’t seen any ghosts.”

“And George’s drinking bowl?”

“Alcohol-induced hallucinations.”

“I hadn’t been drinking.”

“I meant George.”

“But I was the one who saw what happened.”

“I think we are getting all worked up over nothing. Everyone knows that ghosts hang out in attics and basements or belfries, if you have one - or is that bats? But anyway, they don’t like the main living areas. The boys spend all their time there and don’t think the place is even a little bit spooky.“

“We’ll test that theory tonight with Stevie.”

“Give it your best shot.”

“And talking about over-reactio
ns, what was that with the knife at my throat bit last night?”

“I thought you were a burglar.”

“Even though I wasn’t in bed with you?”

“I didn’t know whether
you were or weren’t - I just thought you were - so I grabbed the knife and shoved it towards the intruder’s throat, which happened to be yours. My bad.”

“Don’t you think an intruder would be able to unarm you easily?”

“Let’s see. I’ll get a knife and you can try to disarm me. I’ll use an ordinary knife this time.” She selected a knife from the kitchen drawer. “OK, you stand where you are, and you can’t do anything until the knife’s at your throat. It’s supposed to be dark too, remember? Night time.”

I made some mocking whistling noises, denoting a man biding his time with not a care in the world. Suddenly Belle’s knife was at my throat. I once did a few days of tae
kwan do training, so I raised my left arm and brushed the knife away from my throat, moving in on Belle’s left shoulder with my right hand. I was showing off my minimal martial arts skills. I was halfway through the maneuver when Belle kneed me hard in the balls and slapped me on the cheek as I crumpled down.

“See?” she said.

See?
I couldn’t see anything.

Is this love
, I asked myself,
when one partner can cause such pain and suffering to the other in the expectation that it will be viewed as the necessary fall-out from a hypothetical demonstration?

Probably so.
Love shows itself in many ways and tests normal boundaries.

*  *  *

I staggered up the stairs, throbbing, but only after being subjected to peals of laughter from Belle, followed by her gently rubbing my balls on the end of her thin wrist, a soothing action which only exacerbated the suffering.

“
Ow!”

Belle smiled. “Mine, all mine.”

“Then take better care of them.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart
, but you should have seen the look on your face.”

“You could see
my face through all those stars?”

“You looked very surprised,”
she said, following it with another peel of laughter.

“I am going to check up on the boys. They’re safer to be with.”

“You poor thing.”

*  *  *

Zack and Stevie were in the attic, a room they had decked out with the large throw cushions, thrown randomly across the floor, with them rolling equally haphazardly on top of them.

“Hello, boys!”

No response.

“Hello, boys!”

A bored, “Hello, Luke,” from Zack.

“How’s it going?”

“Good,” said Stevie.

“What are you watching?”

Zack looked over at the TV as if seeing it for the first time, then ignored both it and me, continuing with his conversation with Stevie.

“Seen any ghosts lately?” I asked.

“Ghosts? There aren’t any ghosts up here. Aren’t any ghosts anywhere,” Zack commented lazily.

“
Ghosts!” Stevie snorted. “There aren’t any ghosts. You’re worse than Mom.”

“We’ll see what comes out of the woodwork,” I said.

“Cockroaches,” said Zack.

“Giant rats
,” Stevie added.

“But you have been attacked by a ghost, Stevie,” I protested.

“Huh.” It was Zack’s turn to snort. “He just fell over the top step. He was probably drunk.”

Stevie contented himself with watching us.

“I heard you were pushed down the stairs, Stevie,” I said.

“Could be.”

“No?”

“Not saying.”

“So no ghosts, then?”

“I’d worry more about Dad,”
advised Zack. “He’s no ghost and he swore he’d kill any guy who touched Mom. Ghosts can’t hurt you but Dad has had fights with lots of people. He punched out a guy once and he was in hospital for three weeks. Dad’s your basic mean motherfucker.”

“Motherfucker,” Stevie echoed him, chortling.

“He is! He could take Luke in about ten seconds. No offense, Luke, but you are English, and you guys are kind of known for being pussies, not fighters.”

“Tell that to Hitler.”

“Blah-blah-blah. Ancient history. Anyway, if you see Dad coming, you’d better run. Not that you will see Dad coming. He’s fast and he’ll take you out.”

“Thanks for that, Z
ack. What’s making you such a grouch this evening?”

“All this crap about ghosts.
You and Mom pretending to be like your psychic or some shit.”

“Don’t come running to us, then, when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder.”

Stevie laid a much warmer hand on Zack’s neck which Zack pushed away with a smack. “Lay off, Stevie.”

Stevie jumped on top of him.

“I’ll be seeing you,” I said, preparing to climb back down from the attic.

Zack was right. All this talk of ghosts was pretty stupid.

*  *  *

I reached the bottom rung
of the ladder leading down from the attic and turned round towards the top of the stairs. The figure of a young woman, as real as could be, rushed past me and disappeared into Belle and my bedroom. It happened so fast I didn’t have any time to say anything to her before she was gone.

I followed her into our room but there was no-one there. I checked in the en suite bathroom and that was empty too.

It was one of those things where I began to doubt that it had happened at all, yet I could describe her - bright red hair, pale skin, blue jeans and a white top. Black shoes. I’m not much on fashion so I can’t give you the labels, nor the designs, but I am almost positive she made no sound as she walked, which is not easy on our landing.

She wasn’t frightening, though, more rushing and preoccupied, as if she needed to get into our bedroom fast to fetch something. If she was a real person, she must have gone clean out of the window
, obliquely across from the door, but sash windows aren’t so easy to close from the outside, so she couldn’t have done that.

And I had no evidence of the encounter whatsoever, nothing to thrust in front of Zack’s sardonic face or to bring up with Belle without making myself sound like
an hallucinating idiot or someone in desperate need of attention.

Still …

“Belle, I have just seen the strangest thing.”

Belle looked up. “What?”

“A woman has just rushed past me on the landing as I came down from the attic.”

“A woman?”

“Yes, thirties-ish, slim, red-headed. She walked straight into our room.”

“You like red-heads. Did you find her in our room?”

“No, she had gone.”

“But you looked?”

“Sure, I looked.”

“And no-one was there?”

“Not that I could see.”

“Did the air get
cold?”

“No.”

“Did she look at you?”

“No.”

“Did you talk to her?”

“No. I was too surprised.”

“Did she talk to you?”

“No.”

“But you definitely saw her?”

“Yes.”

Belle stared me hard into the eyes. “Are you being serious, Luke?”

“Very serious.
Cross my heart etc..”

She continued to stare at me. “So who was she?”

“How should I know?”

Belle shrugged. “I’ll have to ask around … or look under the bed. Did you look under the bed, Luke?”

“No, I forgot.”

“She could still be there. Go and look.”

I wasn’t keen but nor could I wimp out. I thought of asking the boys to help me. In fact, I did. I climbed up the ladder to the attic.

“You won’t believe this, boys, but I really have just seen a ghost, and now I have to check under our bed to see if she is there -“

“You got that
right,” Zack cut in. “We don’t believe you.”

“Come and see
for yourselves. She may be there.”

“You really saw a ghost?” asked Stevie with a puzzled look on his face, trying to gauge whether to believe me or not.

“Yes. No doubt about it this time.”

“What kind
of ghost?”

“A woman.
Red-haired, slim, in a hurry.”

“Wa
s she hot?” sneered Zack.

“Yes, apart from being dead.”

“Hotter than Mom?”

“Of course not, but very pretty.
Worth a look.”

“No way.”

“Why not?”

“She doesn’t exist, and if she does, what can you do with a corpse?”

“All those bones …” added Stevie.

“As you like but I have
to go and look for her. Your mom’s orders.”

“See
ya,” said Zack.

“You coming, Stevie?”

Stevie was assessing Zack’s cynicism and his own nervousness in case there really was a ghost. Either way the answer was no. He shook his head.

I was going to have to do this
alone.

At the bottom of the ladder, I looked around in case she was going to rush past me again. In a way, that would have made it easier
.

The landing was clear.

I entered our room and checked all the corners and all the hiding places I could think of, each time ready to leap back. I didn’t find her.

I was going to have to search for her under the bed.

I hesitated. What if she was there? I was going to get the fright of my life.

I touched the bed skirt, half-expecting a cold hand to make contact with my fingers. I pinched it gingerly and slowly lifted it from the floor. I eased myself to my knees and lowered my head to the level of the floor.

Here goes.

I lifted the skirt fully and thrust my face under the bed.

There was a face staring back at me, inches from my nose. It had red hair and even through my shock it was beautiful. I jumped back, slamming my head against the bed frame.

My body went cold and my hands were trembling as I held my breath. Now what? Would she come after me?

She didn’t.

I lifted the skirt again and met the same face. Her gaze did not interact with mine. It was as if she was in a different dimension although she appeared totally solid, like a real person.

This time I stayed there and studied her as she may have represented a phenomenon I didn’t understand.

S
he wasn’t that scary. In fact, she was the one who seemed to be scared. She started to look out all around me, as if trying to check the room because someone was looking for her. She had a really nervous expression on her face and a tear ran down her cheek.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, and she disappeared.

I did a full sweep of the space under the bed. She was gone. I pulled my head back, avoiding bashing it a second time. Was she behind me?

No. She was nowhere.

I didn’t think that I had scared her off but someone, or something, had, which meant that there was something a lot more frightening in the room there with me, except I could not see it. Or perhaps she was reliving a scene from her life.

I went downstairs.

“Did you see anything?” Belle inquired anxiously as I returned to the kitchen.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“Under the bed?”

“You’re really serious?”

“Yes.”

“So what happened?”