The Secrets of Ghosts (20 page)

‘Oh, my God, you think?’ Katie felt wobbly at the idea of losing that much money. ‘How on earth do you have a watch that valuable? Oh, no. Did you steal it?’

Max gave her a serious look. ‘It was my dad’s watch. My inheritance.’

‘I feel ill just thinking about it. Ten thousand pounds.’

Max shrugged. ‘Other families have ISAs, we have watches.’

‘Watches, plural?’

‘Okay,’ Max said. ‘Here’s the deal. One of Dad’s favourite short cons was the pigeon drop and he always carried a spare watch for it. Cheap as dirt, but fancy-looking or antique-looking. Like this.’ Max pulled a fob watch out of his coat pocket.

‘Nice,’ Katie said, reaching for it.

‘Not nice.’ Max shook his head. ‘Junk.’

‘What’s the con?’

Max rolled his shoulders then, speaking in a softer, lighter voice than his own he held the watch out. ‘Excuse me, miss, did you drop this?’

‘No,’ Katie said, playing along.

‘I just found it.’ Max gestured over his shoulder. ‘It looks pretty old. Is there, like, a lost property box or something here?’

Katie opened her mouth to say ‘yes’ when Max made the sound of a ringing telephone with his mouth. It was uncanny.

‘Wow, you’re like a mynah bird. Or that impressions guy, what’s his name?’

Max continued to ring like a telephone until Katie got sick of the noise and mimed answering one.

‘Hello? Is that The Grange hotel?’ Max had changed his voice again. He sounded deeper, older, and far more commanding.

‘You’re through to Reception. How may I help you?’ Katie said.

‘I was in your restaurant for lunch earlier and I think I left my grandfather’s watch. Maybe on the table — I was showing it to some folks — or maybe it fell out of my pocket. Thing is, it’s really important to me. I want to offer a reward for its safe return. Two hundred quid.’

‘Actually, sir,’ Katie said into her hand, ‘it’s just been found.’

‘Great. Keep it safe, will you? I’ll be there in half an hour.’

‘Then,’ Max said in his normal voice, ‘the first guy tells the receptionist or shop assistant or whoever, that they’re running late for a job interview and they can’t wait around to collect their reward, but that they’ll happily split it halfway. The mark hands over a hundred quid and takes possession of the watch, knowing full well that they’re going to be up a hundred quid. They don’t think there’s any danger because, if nothing else, they’re in possession of a valuable watch.’

‘And the caller never turns up?’

‘Correct.’

‘And the watch is worthless?’

‘A tenner at most,’ Max said.

‘I’m confused,’ Katie said. ‘Is the watch you won off Mr Cole worthless, then?’

‘No. Dad didn’t trust banks or lock-boxes or his own kids, apparently. He hid a diamond-studded watch amongst the cheap crap that he used for pigeon drops.’

‘And he didn’t tell you?’

Max shook his head. ‘I only found out last month. Most of the watches had fake authentication certificates. For insurance, you know?’

‘Right—’

‘I wanted to get them all checked properly. I’ve been wanting to make a fresh start, to clean everything up and it seemed like a good idea.’

‘And you found out that the watch that you pretended was worth ten grand in a poker game, really was worth ten grand. Bloody hell. Talk about poetic justice.’

‘Sixty.’

‘What?’

‘The watch that I lost to Mr Cole and then won back but can’t find is worth sixty grand.’

‘Why didn’t your dad tell you? You weren’t kidding about your family having issues.’

Max gave her a long look. ‘Would you trust me with sixty grand?’

He had a point.

*

Three days late. Gwen flipped back through her journal and double-, then triple-checked. Yes. Today was day four, really. She’d been so worried about Katie, she’d lost track of the days. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

She felt her breasts. Tender, but then they were when she was due on; it didn’t mean she was pregnant. Still, she couldn’t entirely burst the little bubble of hope that had appeared in her stomach. She felt her chest again, pressing the sides underneath the armpits. Definitely sore. And, was it her imagination, or had her breasts got a bit bigger during the night?

She took a sip of her tea, trying to decide if it tasted a bit odd. Your tastes changing was another early pregnancy symptom, as was a metallic flavour in the mouth. Gwen took a piece of honey cake from a tin and took it into the garden. She took a bite and then buried the rest underneath the oak tree that spread its branches over the back corner. It was a superstition, but she wasn’t ruling anything out. Not any more. She and Cam had been trying for a baby for three years, now, and had had every test known to medical science. The verdict was unexplained infertility, which, as Cam had pointed out, was just a fancy way of saying ‘we don’t know’.

Gwen couldn’t help worrying that there was an explanation. That she was being punished for the blood magic. Or that, somehow, Lily was still exerting her evil influence from beyond the grave. Which was silly.

More likely was that it just wasn’t meant to be. She had her quota of good fortune; Cam, her artwork and a beautiful home. Katie was healthy and, she hoped, happy. She was lucky. So very lucky. Perhaps trying for motherhood as well was just greedy.

Gwen patted the earth down on top of the cake and said an incantation. She couldn’t help it. Greedy or not, unwise or not, she wanted a baby. She wanted to be a mother. The depth of this need had come as a complete shock and it consumed her. Only working on her shadow boxes let her forget it for minutes at a time, but as soon as she wasn’t focused on creating, it flooded back in with a strength that was physical.

She’d tried to explain to Cam. The desire squeezed her insides; she actually felt her centre contract around the empty space. The empty space that should hold a baby.

She was contracting now, in fact. A clenching pain low down in her stomach. Below her stomach. A dragging sensation that a moment too late Gwen identified as her period.
No, no, no
. She hurried inside to the bathroom and sat on the toilet. There, the bright red evidence of another failed month. Gwen leaned back against the cool cistern and let the hot tears flow over her face unchecked.

Chapter 12

It was good to get out of the hotel for the day and even better to spend it with Anna. Katie had been worried that she’d blown things with Anna and had been overjoyed when she’d invited her to spend the day together, even if it did involve watching cricket.

Katie silently thanked the world for her day off and stretched out on the grass at the edge of Pendleford’s town green. It crackled underneath her, all the moisture evaporated by the thirsty sun. ‘Can you believe this weather?’ She adjusted her tortoiseshell cat’s-eye sunglasses and folded her hands behind her head. The sky was an almost unbroken blue, just a couple of wispy white trails to highlight the colour of the rest.

Anna was propped up on her elbows, her hand shading her eyes as she watched the distant figures in white. ‘Watch Nicolas bowl. See his arms. They’re so powerful. And long. Honestly, I feel like they could wrap round me three times.’

‘That’s a bit of a weird image.’

‘Yeah,’ Anna said. ‘Hot, though.’ She lay back next to Katie.

‘I can’t believe people still play cricket,’ Katie said. ‘It seems really old-fashioned. It doesn’t belong in the same world as Wi-Fi and 3D television.’

‘And it takes for-bloody-ever.’

‘Yeah. You’d think, in this modern age when we’re all supposed to be so busy all the time, they’d at least have shortened it. Quickie cricket.’

‘No chance,’ Anna said. ‘That’s why they like it.’ She gestured to the players. ‘It’s like golf. Half the appeal is being away from their real lives for an entire day.’

‘But it’s so boring,’ Katie said. ‘Why not just lie on the sofa and watch films all day?’

‘I’m so hot,’ Anna said. She pulled at the edges of her shorts. ‘I wish I could lie here naked.’

‘Go ahead,’ Katie said, lazily. She closed her eyes and felt as if she could fall asleep. ‘It would give the fielders something to look at.’

‘The grass would tickle,’ Anna said. ‘It’s so dry it feels like little bits of paper.’

‘Coward,’ Katie said, smiling.

‘Uh-oh. Someone’s hot and bothered.’

Anna’s tone made Katie open her eyes. She lifted her head and saw Nicolas walking to the edge of the pitch. Even from this distance, she could see his scowl.

‘That’ll be Ed,’ Anna was saying. ‘Nicolas says he cheats.’

‘Oh.’ Katie knew that wasn’t much of a response but the heat had made her so drowsy.

‘Look.’ Anna nodded at a skinny man with black hair. ‘He’s gloating.’

‘You’re really getting into this, aren’t you?’

‘It’s important to take an interest in each other’s hobbies. It’s the secret for a happy relationship.’

‘The secret?’ Katie teased.

‘Well, one of them. I read a book about it once.’

‘Let me guess, you should listen to each other, spend quality time together and give him a blow job every night.’

Anna laughed. ‘You’re disgusting.’

‘So, does he show an interest in your hobbies?’ Katie wasn’t sure if Anna had any hobbies, but she was all for equality.

‘Oh, he hardly notices I exist. My relationship with Nicolas is purely theoretical, but I’m working on it.’

‘Naked sunbathing would probably help with that,’ Katie said.

The skinny dark-haired guy was bowling. She watched as he took a run, his arm windmilling. Just before he released the ball, though, moving so quickly that Katie thought she’d have missed it if she’d blinked, another player grabbed him around the middle and pulled him to the ground.

‘Jesus!’ She sat up.

Anna laughed. ‘Oh, my God, what an idiot.’ She looked over at Nicolas, smiling. ‘That’ll cheer him up.’

‘Won’t their team lose, now, though? For cheating or something?’

‘Why?’ Anna frowned at her. ‘Ed tripped. It’s hardly their fault.’

‘What are you talking about? He was tackled by that guy.’ Katie looked for the blond player.

Anna was looking at her as if she’d lost the plot. ‘He just fell over. Tripped over his feet or lost his balance doing that over-arm throwing thing.’

‘That guy.’ Katie spotted the blond man who was walking swiftly away from the game. She pointed. ‘Him.’

Anna looked in the direction Katie pointed but didn’t lose her frown. ‘What’s he look like?’

‘Blond hair. Pink face. Cricket whites.’

Anna looked back at the game. ‘I think you’ve had too much sun.’

‘No,’ Katie said. ‘Over there.’

She turned to point as the blond guy walked towards the pavilion.

‘I don’t see a blond.’ Anna squinted. ‘Do you mean Mark? His hair is kind of strawberry blond.’

Katie felt cold. Anna couldn’t see the man.

She got to her feet. The blond guy was walking purposefully towards the pavilion. He looked solid. He looked real.

Katie looked down at Anna. ‘Back in a minute.’

Katie walked towards the pavilion. The door was propped open to let air through and the man had just gone inside.

She followed him. To the right was the entrance to the locker rooms and to the left, a door marked private. Straight ahead, after a short corridor, was the bar area. It had seen better days. Cracked lino on the floor, a seventies wooden bar with three optics behind.

‘Hello?’ The place was deserted. He must’ve gone into the locker room or the public toilet. Katie waited, unsure what to do. Did she really want to follow a strange man into the changing rooms to accuse him of... What? Tripping up a player? Being a hallucination? No.

Her body didn’t seem to be listening to her brain, though, and she shoved open the door. ‘Hello?’

The changing room was empty. A row of lockers against one wall and a long bench on the other. The pegs above the bench were filled with clothes and there were shoes tucked underneath. No blond guy. There was a blue shower curtain pulled across the entrance to the communal shower area and it was spotted with mould along the top, probably the source of the smell of decay that was lying underneath the scents of sweaty feet and deodorant. Katie couldn’t hear a shower running but she expected to hear it start any moment. She waited. After a couple more minutes, there was still no running water so she called again. ‘Hello? Excuse me? Can I talk to you?’

Nothing. He obviously hadn’t come in here, after all. Well, Katie wasn’t going to look in the toilets and, suddenly, she wasn’t at all sure why she was looking for him anyway. To verify that she wasn’t seeing things, she supposed. To prove that she wasn’t going nuts. Well, creeping around the men’s changing rooms probably wasn’t the best way to demonstrate that.

Still. Just to be thorough, Katie walked to the silent shower area and pulled the blue curtain to one side. She almost screamed. The blond boy was standing in the corner of the shower area, facing the wall. He was fully dressed, still in his cricket whites.

Katie opened her mouth to say ‘hello’ again but she couldn’t manage it. Her throat was too dry. Then the boy turned. He moved smoothly, in a way that didn’t seem quite human. Katie wanted to take a step back, but she was filled with a numb buzzing, pins and needles in her spine. His face was the same pink-cheeked one she’d seen outside but the eyes were wrong. All black as if the pupils had swallowed the rest. Those terrible eyes were facing her, but didn’t give any sign that they could see her. Then he lifted one hand, a hand that now held a razor blade and sliced down his forearm.

‘Don’t,’ Katie said, her voice echoing off the tile. Panicky and thin.

He took the blade with the sliced arm and, as Katie took an involuntary step forward, neatly did the other side. The blood flowed instantly and thickly, running off the tips of his fingers and onto his white trousers. Then he disappeared.

Katie blinked at the suddenly empty space where the boy had just been standing. She looked instinctively down, expecting to see blood all over the tiles. It had been so real.

Katie pushed her way out of the changing room, choking on the smell of bleach, which seemed to have developed an undertone of iron.