Every Touch (25 page)

   “Thank you.  Tomorrow, the park and anywhere else you want to go.  I promise.”

   He squeezed her hand and then his touch was gone.  She walked back to the car and climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door harder than she needed to and not saying anything.  She was too busy imagining Oliver watching as they pulled away, thinking about how she was losing some of the precious little time she had left with her friend. 

   The drive to Kelly’s house was quiet.  Laila was fuming and made no attempt to hide it.  At least her sister had the sense to not talk to her.

   “Where’s Jack?” Laila said as soon as they got to the house.  Kelly’s fiancé was usually home from his job in IT at the hospital where Kelly worked by this time.

   “He’s visiting his parents for a couple of days,” she said.  “Are you hungry?”

   “No.”  Laila didn’t want to prolong the visit.  She folded her arms and glared at Kelly.  “Just tell me why you practically kidnapped me off the street to get me here.”

   “Would you at least sit down?” 

   Kelly sat on the black leather sofa and patted the seat next to her.  Laila stalked over to an armchair and sat there instead.  She was so furious now she didn’t trust herself to not throttle her sister from such a close distance.

   “You know I love you...” she began.

   “Come on, Kelly, just say what you have to say.”

   Kelly sighed.  “I did some research and I found some things.”

   “What things?”  Laila’s heart was thudding in her chest.  What had Kelly found out?  Surely she couldn’t know about Denny.

   “I found that a man used to live in your flat whose name was Dennis Carpenter.  People called him Denny.  And about five years ago he was murdered in your bedroom.”

   “So?”

   “So you admit you knew this?”

   “Of course I knew.  The neighbours told me.”

   “You told me you are in love with a man called Denny.”

   Laila rolled her eyes.  “There is more than one Dennis in the world, Kelly.”

   “So you’re saying it’s a coincidence?”

   “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”  Laila tried to mask her nervousness with annoyance.  That couldn’t be all Kelly had.

   “So you have no interest in Dennis Carpenter at all, beyond mild curiosity?”

   “What more interest could I have?”

   Kelly pursed her lips.  “Then why did you drive to the house belonging to Patricia Mason, Dennis Carpenter’s sister, on Mondy, sit outside, and then film her and her son when they got home?”

   Laila’s stomach twisted.  “What?”

   “I was there.  I saw it all.”

   Genuine anger replaced her fear now.  Her voice rose.  “You were following me?!”

   “Because I’m really worried about you,” Kelly said, her increasing frustration triggering some exaggerated gesticulation. “You’re living like a hermit, you never want to meet anyone new, you’re hardly even leaving your flat now other than for work, and now you say you’re in love with a man I can’t meet whose name is the same as the dead former tenant in your flat whose sister you are stalking!”

   Laila leaned forward on the edge of the chair, incensed.  “I am not stalking T...” she began, then stopped.  She had almost said Trish’s name, almost made another mistake like the one she had back at her flat when she’d admitted she wasn’t alone.  Kelly always knew how to push her buttons and she was using that now to try to trick her into admitting something.  Laila took a breath and sat back in her chair.

   “I am worried that you may be having a psychotic break,” Kelly said.  “You went through a terrible experience with Gary and I think you are experiencing a delayed reaction to that.  I think you need help.”

   “What kind of help do you think I need?” she said quietly. 

   Kelly paused, obviously thrown by how apparently calm Laila was being.  “I think you need to talk to someone, a psychiatrist.  I made an appointment for you for tomorrow afternoon after you get off work.  He comes very highly recommended.”  She smiled.  “I know he will be able to help you.  And I think it would be a good idea if you stayed here for a few days.  You need to get out of that flat for a while.  I’ve made up the spare bedroom.”

   Laila loved her older sister intensely.  They were three years apart in age and had grown up incredibly close.  But she had always been in her shadow, following her lead, taking her advice, doing what she said.  It wasn’t that Kelly was overbearing, it was that Laila had become used to not standing up for herself.  But Denny had changed her.  In the short time they had been together, she felt stronger and more sure of herself than she ever had before.  Denny and Oliver needed her and she wasn’t going to let them down. 

   As she looked at Kelly, Laila knew it was time to take control of her life. 

   “No,” she said.

   “No what?” Kelly said.

   “Just no.  No, I will not see a psychiatrist and no, I will not stay here.”

   “Lai...”

   “I love you, Kelly, and I know you are worried and just doing what you think is right for me.  But you are wrong about this and you are wrong about me.  I asked you to trust me and you didn’t.  Instead you followed me, you spied on me and you went to my home when I was at work and invaded my privacy.”

   Kelly’s eyes widened.  “How did you...?”

   “We’re not children anymore and you have to let me run my own life.”  Laila stood.  “Until you can do that, I don’t want you to come round any more.  And I would like my keys back.”

   Kelly was staring up at her in shock, hurt filling her eyes.  Laila forced herself to hold her gaze, even though inside she was close to breaking.  To her relief, Kelly was the first to look away.

   “Will you at least stay for dinner?”

   Laila knew that was the worst thing she could do.  Her determination was only going to last so long.  She could already feel it beginning to slip.  She focused on Denny, gaining strength from the thought of how much she wanted to get back to him.

   “No,” she said.  “I need to go home.”

   After that Kelly didn’t argue.  It was the first time in their lives that Laila had so blatantly stood up to her sister and she imagined Kelly was even more surprised at her than she was. 

   Kelly gave her flat keys back and offered to drive her home, but Laila refused.  The sooner she got away, the better.  

***

Oliver’s description of how Kelly had taken Laila with her and what she had said had kicked Denny’s habit of worrying about Laila when she wasn’t home into overdrive.  He felt so helpless.  Again.  He frantically tried to think what Kelly could have discovered.  He was certain she hadn’t found anything in the flat when she’d ransacked it two days previously.  Denny considered that ransacked may have been too harsh a word, but he wasn’t feeling particularly well disposed towards Kelly at that moment. 

   He sent Laila a text, but she didn’t reply.  So all he could do was wait and fret.  Patience had never been his strong suit when he was alive.  Death hadn’t mellowed him in that area at all.

   He’d been pacing the flat for almost an hour when the door opened and Laila walked in.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” he said, rushing to her and wrapping his arms around her as he breathed a huge sigh of relief.

   She promptly burst into tears. 

   “No, baby, please don’t cry,” he pleaded, hugging her tighter against him.  What had her sister done to her? 

      When Laila continued to sob, he picked her up and carried her to the sofa where she curled on his lap, buried her face in his shoulder and cried.

   “She... tried... to... make... me... stay... there,” she said, sobs punctuating each word.  “She... thinks... I’m having... a psychotic... break.”  She stopped and took a few slow, deep breaths before speaking again.  “She even made an appointment with a psychiatrist without asking me!”

   Denny was furious.  He felt an overwhelming need to give Kelly a piece of his mind, although part of his anger was directed at himself.  This had happened because of him.  His presence was causing Laila pain.  It was a horrible realisation.

   She had stopped crying, but was still clutching the front of his shirt, her head leaning against his shoulder.  He looked down at her fingers entangled in the material.  She relied on him, trusted him, even needed him.  It was terrifying and thrilling.  He wasn’t sure any of his previous girlfriends had ever needed him the way Laila did.  What he was certain of, though, was that he had never needed any of them like he needed her.

   After a while he reached for the pen and pad. 

  
What happened?

   “She followed me on Monday and saw me filming Trish and Jay,” she said, “and she found out about your death.  Now I think she thinks I’m hallucinating you or something.  She honestly thinks I’ve gone insane.”  Her voice rose in disbelief.  “My own sister!”  She was silent for a while then suddenly exclaimed, very loudly,
“Damn it!”

   Denny jumped, startled, and Laila laughed softly.

   “I’m sorry,” she said.  He kissed her forehead.  “It’s just... she was the one person I could always rely on.  When I left Gary, I don’t know what I would have done without her.”  She smiled.  “When he came round a couple of times to her house when I was there I seriously thought she was going to kill him.  But now...” Her smile disappeared.  “How could she do this?  Why doesn’t she trust me?”

   He didn’t have an answer.

   “I made her give me back the flat keys,” she said.  “I don’t trust her with them anymore.”  Her eyes suddenly opened wide.  “Oh, damn, what would I have done if she’d walked in on us making love?”

   There were a few seconds of silence while Denny thought about that.  He couldn’t help himself, he began to laugh.  After a few moments, Laila started to giggle. Before long, they were both laughing so much Denny was gasping for breath and tears were streaming down Laila’s smiling face.

   When they managed to pull themselves together, Denny took the pen and wrote,
On reflection, I think taking the keys back was an extremely wise decision.

   And suddenly they were laughing again. 

It had been fifteen days since Oliver had come to the door and shown Denny the onset of his ghostly body’s degeneration. 

   Over that time, Denny had seen the intermittent stuttered phasing in and out of his friend spread from his fingers to his arms to his entire body.  It was one of the most difficult things he’d ever had to watch.  Every day, it got a little worse.  Despite being afraid of the unknown of what was going to happen to him, Oliver seemed to have come to terms with it.  He was a stronger man than Denny was.  Or maybe he’d just accepted his fate, whatever that was going to be.  Denny admired that about him, his ability to accept what he couldn’t change and make the most of it.  Would he be able to do that when it was his time?  Six months ago, he would have said maybe, but now he didn’t even want to think of being taken away from Laila. 

   In the afternoon, Laila and Oliver had gone on their now daily walk and he and Denny had been chatting on and off throughout the day.  The sun had just set and Denny and Laila were curled up together on the sofa watching TV when Denny received the text he had been dreading.

   [It’s happening]

   He handed the phone to Laila.  She read and turned to him with tears in her eyes.

   “Oh, Denny,” she whispered. 

   Oliver was sitting in his usual place on the step by the door when they reached the lobby, looking out at the empty street.  As soon as Denny saw him, he stopped.  Oliver’s body was phasing in and out more than he’d ever seen before.  For a moment he couldn’t move. 

   Laila stopped beside him, her hand tightening around his, and whispered, “Is it bad?”

   He tapped her wrist once.

   Oliver turned to see them and smiled as his body stuttered a couple of times then stabilised again.  Denny walked forward and Laila let go of his hand and went to the door, carrying the pen and pad with her.

   “Hey, man,” Oliver said, standing up and smiling at Denny.

   “Hey, Olly.”

   He drew Laila into his arms as soon as she got outside and held her for a long time.  Whether it was to comfort Laila or himself, Denny didn’t know, but they both seemed to need it.  He fought back his own tears, sitting in his usual spot next to the glass and waiting.  Eventually, Oliver and Laila sat and she handed him the pad, keeping one hand on his arm.

  
People see you sitting here holding onto the air, they’re going to think you’re crazy
, Oliver wrote, looking at Laila.

   “I don’t care,” she said, taking his hand.  “Olly, I am staying right here for as long as you need me.”

   Denny saw a tear run down Oliver’s face and he sniffed, looking down. 

   “You are a very lucky man, Den, to have her,” he said.