Tamsyn Murray-Afterlife 01 My So-Called Afterlife (11 page)

‘Duh!’ Hep said with a disgusted shake of her head. ‘I can’t believe people actually watch this crap.’

Kimberly approached the woman with the clipboard and gave the top of the board a deliberate tap. Forehead creasing into an absent frown, the woman’s eyes stayed on the scene beside the grave. Kimberly tapped again. The frown deepened. Rolling her eyes with scorn-filled boredom, Kimberly smacked the board with such force it somersaulted
high in the air and landed on a nearby gravestone with a loud clatter. The producer screamed.

‘S-something jerked the clipboard out of my hands!’ she stuttered, eyes wide. ‘I felt it!’

There was no stopping Kimberly after that. The camera couldn’t keep up with her as she moved around the churchyard, striking terror into the presenters and crew. Cameras teetered precariously on their stands, the sound guys had the microphones snatched from their hands and no sooner had the producer picked up her clipboard than it was sent spiralling upwards again. The presenters fled immediately and the crew weren’t keen to hang around a moment longer than it took to gather up their gear before they ran for it. Even Elvira was spooked. I nearly felt sorry for them. Despite working on a paranormal TV show, it was probably the closest any of them had come to meeting a real ghost. Unluckily for them, she had an attitude the size of Africa.

I leaned back on the grass and reflected on the afternoon’s work. Things had worked out perfectly. Now that Elvira’s appetite for ghostly goings-on had been satisfied, she’d leave me alone, and Kimberly had got her fifteen minutes of fame. I couldn’t wait to see the programme they cobbled together out of it all.

Ryan poked his head around the top of the toilet stairs later that evening. ‘All clear.’

The news gave me mixed feelings. On one hand it was a relief to know I could come and go from the toilet without worrying about being caught on hidden spook-cams. On the other, I’d got used to the comforts of Jeremy’s flat and had formed a meaningful relationship with his remote control. I was going to miss it.

Sensing my reluctance, Ryan suggested we take a stroll along the South Bank of the Thames. We left Jeremy at the stage door of the theatre and chose a route which took us past Big Ben and across Westminster Bridge. Judging from the lack of coats on the people around us, the air was still warm. I wished I could feel it; cold I could live without, but
the gentle embrace of the sun was something I missed. Lining both banks of the river were twinkling lights and reflected in the water was the glowing ring of the London Eye.

‘Have you ever been on it?’ I asked as we leaned on the stone bridge and gazed at the barely moving wheel.

‘Yeah, my dad took me once.’ He was quiet for a moment and I knew he was remembering. Then he flashed me an inviting grin. ‘Fancy seeing the sights from the heights?’

The rhyme made me smile. ‘I didn’t know you were a poet.’

He winked. ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Come on, let’s be proper tourists. We can sneak into one of the pods.’

If I thought London looked gorgeous from the ground, it looked even better from the air. Our capsule was jammed with clicking Japanese tourists, but it didn’t matter. As we climbed into the night sky, I leaned back into Ryan’s arms and soaked up the moment. I’d dreamed my whole life of meeting someone like him. I wasn’t about to let the small matter of my death spoil it.

‘What do you think it’s like when you pass across?’

He thought for a minute. ‘I don’t know. It would be nice to think it’s whatever you want it to be. Sometimes I get scared thinking about it, but I don’t believe in the idea of heaven and hell.’

‘You don’t think we just stop existing then?’

I felt him shake his head. ‘I think there’s more to it than that. If there wasn’t anything beyond this world, there wouldn’t be anything such as ghosts and I’d have been wasting my time moving people on.’

He had a point. It did seem a bit odd to be striving to resolve whatever was tying you to the earth only to discover there was nothing worth trying for. Why bother? Being dead wasn’t great, but it wasn’t totally rubbish. I snuggled back against Ryan and gazed over the twilit city. ‘I wonder how you know, when it’s time to go.’

‘Now who’s being poetic?’ he teased and I felt him smiling into my hair. ‘I’ve seen it happen to other ghosts. They’re surrounded by light and seem to become transparent. Some of them said they feel drawn to something they can’t see. Then they gently fade away, but I don’t think it feels bad.’

The idea filled me with quiet panic. I knew Jeremy wanted me to catch my killer and move on, and I understood he thought it was in my best interests, but I was scared. No one knew where you went. What if it was a dump? Or downright nasty? Plus, I wouldn’t know anyone there. Did I want to go back to being lonely, without any of the friends I’d made? Most of all, could I bear to leave Ryan? It was all so unknown, and that was what scared me the most. I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to take the chance.

Ryan picked up on my uncertainty and did his best to soothe me. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be going there together.’

I pulled away to study his face, biting my lip anxiously.
‘How do you know?’

He smiled and lowered his lips to brush mine. ‘Because it’s fate. We’re meant to be together, you and me. Nothing can separate us now.’

It didn’t matter what Jeremy thought – his flat was always going to be the venue for our
The Ghost’s the Host
viewing party. Kimberly’s episode was being aired the following Sunday and, according to Jeremy, Elvira had been beside herself with excitement.

‘It’s ground-breaking television,’ she’d told him the day after the graveyard filming. ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we get international recognition from the paranormal community.’

Jeremy had voiced concern. ‘It sounds to me like Kimberly is upset.’

Puffing out her cheeks in dismissive arrogance, Elvira brushed away his anxiety. ‘She’s undoubtedly a tormented spirit. I’m looking for a way to help her rest in peace.’

Kimberly certainly looked peaceful to me, leaning into Ryan on Jeremy’s sofa. In fact, she had an air of the cat who’d got the cream. I had a feeling that if she could just get her claws into my boyfriend, her afterlife would be complete. Hep hadn’t been happy about inviting her but, as I pointed out, without Kimberly it could be me making my presence felt on that TV screen. Unfortunately, I owed her. It wasn’t a comfortable place to be.

The opening credits of the show began to roll and we settled down to watch. I had to admit the camerawork
was slick. The churchyard looked like something out of a horror movie. Finlay West was grim-faced as he set the scene, drawing a picture of Kimberly as a sweet teenage girl, captain of the school netball team and loved by everyone. As one person, we turned disbelieving eyes on her. She gave a delicate shrug. ‘The bit about the netball is true. We won the league two years in a row when I was captain.’

I bet they did. The opposition probably took one look at Kimberly’s scowling face and ran away.

‘Kimberly Jones had everything to live for,’ Finlay finished off, gazing sorrowfully out of the TV. ‘Maybe she has unfinished business. It’s just possible we can help.’

Even though we never actually saw her on the screen, Kimberly obviously felt she was a TV natural. It was clear she loved the attention and considered herself the star of the show.

‘My drama teacher always said I had presence,’ she preened, as the pensioner pop star moaned that he’d felt someone push him.

By the end of the programme, I was beginning to wonder what we’d created. Kimberly had been a diva before she’d died and, now she’d got a taste of the limelight, I couldn’t help wondering if she’d be gate-crashing other TV shows. Had we just unleashed the world’s most demanding ghost on to an unsuspecting viewing public?

Finlay West appeared equally worried. ‘It seems we’ve uncovered a hornet’s nest of supernatural stress. Join us next
week when we attempt to set Kimberly’s soul to rest.’

Bursting with self-importance, the significance of that last sentence seemed to be completely lost on Kimberly. ‘I’m going to be the talk of the school.’ She flicked her hair, her expression smug. ‘Again.’

‘What did he mean by the part about setting your soul to rest?’ I said slowly.

Kimberly ignored me. Throwing me a warning glare, Hep shook her head slightly.

Feeling stubborn, I refused to let it go. ‘Jeremy? What does that mean?’

‘I wondered that, too,’ Jeremy admitted. ‘Maybe I’ll ask Elvira.’

‘Whatever,’ Kimberly sighed with an arrogant toss of her hair. ‘I’m way too good for that bunch of losers.’

Eventually even my sainted boyfriend couldn’t take any more of Kimberly’s self-congratulation. ‘The main thing is we got the result we wanted. Lucy can go home, and I think that’s where I’m taking her right now.’

Kimberly pouted prettily and clutched his arm. ‘She knows where she lives. I’m sure Jacob here recorded the show. I thought we could watch it again, just the two of us.’

Ryan’s smile was tolerant. ‘I’m sure
Jeremy
has other plans. Anyway, it’s past my bedtime. My mother will kill me.’

She couldn’t ignore the hint, but her spiteful glance at me once Ryan’s back was turned said it all. She didn’t like being in second place. Luckily, there wasn’t a lot she could do about it.

Hep wasted no time putting me straight as we waited for the bus after dropping Kimberly off. ‘What did you have to mention that bit at the end of the show for?’

I frowned. ‘I have a bad feeling about it. Do they actually know how to put a ghost to rest? What if it goes wrong?’

‘And that would be a problem why?’

‘Hep, I know she’s a cow, but we can’t sit back and let something happen to her.’ I gave her a meaningful look. ‘We’re dead. Haven’t we been through enough? Even her.’

She wasn’t convinced. ‘I still don’t know why you don’t let her get what’s coming to her. You need to watch it where she’s concerned. She’s got her sights set on Ryan, and I reckon whatever Kimberly wants, Kimberly gets.’

The words rattled around in my head a long time after we’d seen Hep home and Ryan had left me alone. Was I being too kind? I didn’t think so. My existence was complicated enough without any extra guilt if something went wrong. If I could help Kimberly, I would. Ryan was too smart to get sucked in by her Little Miss Innocent act. Wasn’t he?

I was born on the sixth of December, which makes my star sign Sagittarius. On the day I died, my horoscope said I was supposed to
try your hardest to accept life’s little ups and downs
. The joke wasn’t lost on me in the months I spent afterwards loitering around the loo.

According to Minerva Mason, astrologer for one of the glossy magazines Jeremy brought me, my horoscope for September warned me that I might meet someone who was not what they appeared to be. I could have done with a bit more detail to be honest, but Minerva wasn’t great on the finer points.

I didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it, though. Hot on the trail of my killer, Jeremy had been trawling through old newspaper records at the library with the kind of time
and dedication the police hadn’t been able to spare during their investigation. He chased down even the tiniest lead, dragging me reluctantly along behind him. If he showed me another picture of a tattoo I thought I might scream.

‘I told you, I didn’t definitely see anything on his neck. It was dark.’

‘I know, but it might jog your memory. If we can work out what the tattoo was, maybe it’ll help us find the man who killed you. Or at the very least I can take what we find to the police.’

‘Like they’ll be any help. You’d be better off showing it to the other girl he attacked. Sarah, wasn’t it?’

He sighed. ‘I don’t want to upset her. She’s been through a lot.’ Realising what he’d said, he added hastily, ‘Not that you haven’t. It’s just you seem a bit stronger, somehow.’

I knew what he meant. Sarah would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder, being afraid. In my case, the worst had already happened.

‘I suppose it might help if she knew he was behind bars.’ I bit back a sigh and nodded at the designs he’d picked up from the tattooist. ‘Show me the pictures again.’

Hep refused point blank to get involved with helping Kimberly. ‘She’s evil and deserves everything she gets.’

It was a gorgeous day and we were sitting in Regent’s Park, watching university students playing a game of rounders. After tennis, it had been the only sport to raise my enthusiasm at school.

‘Jeremy spoke to Elvira. They’ve got some specialist in exorcism flying in from Romania and are planning to televise it live this Sunday night.’

Hep tugged at the grass moodily. ‘So?’

‘So we need to find a way to stop them.’

Predictably, Hep said, ‘Why?’

There was a cheer as one of the boys smacked the ball solidly through the air. He didn’t hang around, racing around the jumpers they were using as posts to make it home before the fielders had even retrieved the ball. I nodded approvingly. If I’d been captain, I’d have picked him over sporty Kimberly any day. ‘Because no matter how horrible she is, I don’t want to spend the rest of my eternity wondering if we made a mistake. Maybe the dead should stay out of the limelight.’

Another shout rang out across the park. I looked up to see the ball spinning through the air towards us.

‘Catch!’ The bowler bellowed to his fielders.

Without thinking it through, I rose and stretched my fingers skywards. My hand solidified at the exact moment the red sphere reached us and there was a satisfying smack as it hit my palm. For a second, I stood with the ball in my grasp and the elation of taking the catch ruled supreme. Then realisation hit and I froze. The fielder racing towards us skidded to a halt just centimetres away, staring in mesmerised astonishment at the ball, which apparently hung in mid-air. Tentatively, he held out a hand. I let go. The ball dropped into his waiting fingers. He gazed in wonderment
at it before turning and waving it at his astonished friends. A ragged cheer went up.