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Then she must have got the time she went to sleep wrong. Mustn’t she? She hated this feeling of being out of control, of doubting her own mind. Her mind was the one thing that had never let her down
Her stomach clenching in trepidation, Edie climbed back into bed again, her mind spinning. Thoughts racing; too many strange things were happening.
“There must be some logical explanation,” she said to herself.
Jessica's ghost bothered her the most. Although she had spent most of the day ignoring the memory, it still festered there in the back of her mind.
And another Spirit was due…if Jessica was to be believed. Had it really come to this? She was taking the word of a see-through former person?
Big Ben chimed again.
Edie checked her phone, it shone and showed 00:15. Forty-five minutes to go and logic said Edie would be left alone. It was the twenty-first century… people didn’t get haunted the way they used to. It just wasn’t done.
She lay on her side in bed, knees curled protectively towards her chest.
"Ding dong!"
"Half past," she muttered as she reached out and checked her phone yet again.
"Ding dong!"
"A quarter to," Edie whispered into her pillow, her hands clutching it tightly.
"Ding dong!"
"One o’clock," she said out loud, her body relaxing, “and not a strange visitor in sight!"
Edie didn’t bother looking at her phone; the quarter chimes of Big Ben were good enough for her. And once the hour bell had sounded, she would be getting some sleep.
How stupid had she been? Believing some dream she had last night.
“Terms and conditions. I mean, really.”
Edie bashed her pillow into shape and pulled the duvet up to her chin as the hour bell sounded a deep, dull, hollow, melancholy one.
As the sound ended, light erupted in the room, as if a thousand camera flashes were going off at once.
With a small scream, Edie catapulted upright in bed. Her eyes were blinded by the flash of light. Rubbing them she tried to rid herself of the black spots. Opening them again, she was confronted with a visitor.
She rubbed her eyes again.
Opening them still showed the same visitor.
What was a six-year-old flower girl doing in her bedroom?
The child was dressed in a pink dress; the bodice heavy with embroidered flowers and seed pearls, the skirt fell in folds like a fairy princess. On her blonde and curly hair sat a circlet of sweet peas and roses with bits of baby’s breath, gypsophila, peeking out here and there.
Clutched in her hands was a flower basket but instead of flowers the basket held the light that had blinded Edie earlier. It lit the whole room, a blue white light shooting up from the basket to hit the ceiling like a thousand spotlights. Nothing could hide from that light, it illuminated all shadows.
Solemn blue eyes stared at Edie. Eyes too old for a six year old and like the light, they scorched bright. They tore through Edie’s outer layers and the mask she showed the world to see what was hidden beneath. Edie’s soul shrank and tried to hide but found its darkest corners exposed.
“Erm…” Edie’s voice faltered and faded under the child’s stare. Why did it have to be a child? Edie never knew what to say to them.
“So little girl, are you the Ghost that Ms Marley told me about?” Edie tried to smile encouragingly at the youngster, but it felt more like a grimace.
The child raised an eyebrow, shook her head and sighed.
“I might look like a six-year-old but you don’t have to talk to me like I’m stupid,” the child Wraith replied.
Just my luck, thought Edie, I’m being haunted by a precocious poltergeist.
“But yes, I am the Ghost that Jessica Marley told you about.”
The Ghost had a soft voice and low but it echoed as if it were at a distance.
“And who and what are you exactly?” Edie asked her body tense for the next shock heading her way.
"I am the Ghost of Weddings Past."
"Like history past?" inquired Edie. It was bad enough going to weddings but to have to go through some sort of history lesson as well.
"No. Your past and the pasts of those close to you."
Oh.
“Well, while you do that could you turn down the light?” Edie said.
“Turn it down?” the child swung the basket as she put both hands on her small hips. “Turn it down? This light doesn’t have a dimmer switch you know. It isn’t to be commanded and leashed like you do everything else.”
Edie’s eyes watered as the light shone in them and her skin stung where it hit her as if caught out in the sun too long.
“I’m sorry, Edie you’ll just have to get used to it.” And with that the Spirit folded her arms, knocking the basket even more. The beam careened around the room.
“OK, so the light is staying,” Edie conceded reluctantly. A good lawyer knew when to give ground in an argument and when to strike to win.
“But what exactly is the reason you’re here?”
Information was key, and Edie needed it. There was one thing she hated and that was to be flying blind.
“Your welfare, of course,” the flower girl rolled her eyes again. “You did listen to what Jessica had to say didn’t you?”
“Well yes,” Edie replied but she thought how much better her welfare would be for having a full night’s sleep.
“Sleep? You’d rather sleep than be reclaimed? Saved?”
Edie jumped. Not only was she invaded by ectoplasmic presences, they had ESP.
Chapter 5 (#u8bd58e47-96b6-5dac-b5db-dc2174be9bbf)
The little girl unfolded her arms and held out a hand. Edie looked at it as if it would bite her. She remembered all the other little flower girls she had held the hands of. She remembered the sticky residue, the snotty slickness.
“Come on! Get up! We have to get going,” the hand was shaken closer towards her. Edie wanted to say she wasn’t dressed, that it was cold outside and didn’t the little girl have parents who would be worried about her? Instead, Edie reluctantly took the hand. It was soft and warm, dry and without stickiness and it was very strong.
With a raised eyebrow the Ghost said,
“Stop letting outside appearances blind you to reality.”
And then it pulled Edie from the bed and took her towards the window.
Edie didn’t have time to grab her robe, her bare feet squeaked on the floor and she shivered in her t-shirt and cotton pyjama bottoms.
“I’m not going out of the window,” she said.
The Ghost reached out and up and laid its small hand on Edie’s t-shirt, right over her heart.
“Have faith.” The eyes were kind even though they still burned bright, “just put up with having my hand here and you’ll be supported in all this and more.”
And with those words they passed through the wall.
“What the…”
There was no plummeting to the ground, as Edie had tensed herself to expect. In fact they were already on the ground but they were definitely not in London any more. Instead of her street of mansion blocks, they were outside on the verge of a lane beside a country churchyard.
Instead of darkness and that weird fog, it was a bright summer’s day. The sort of June weather that happened when June behaved properly and it was the way Edie remembered her childhood when she thought about it, which wasn’t often. Butterflies flitted from cowslip to buttercup.
“Oh my God…” breathed Edie.
Her hands shook as she reached to touch a flower. She slowly turned on the spot, drinking in the scene. “This can’t be, this is the place where I grew up. This is Little Hanningfield.”
Her hand went to feel the rough stone wall that separated the grass verge they were on from the tiny cemetery and the small squat stone church.
The Spirit looked up at her, a strange smile hovering round her little girl lips, but it was a grown-up, wise smile.
Edie rubbed her chest; she could still feel the imprint of the little hand on her. She could feel each finger and along with it she could smell her childhood. Freshly cut grass, the smell of warm tarmac and horses. And with the smells came rushing in all her childish thoughts, hopes and dreams. The dam she had barricaded them behind had been breached by the touch of a tiny hand and she was flooded.
“You OK?” the Ghost asked. “Your lip is trembling and… are you crying?”
“No, no… just a touch of hay fever,” muttered Edie with a husky catch to her voice. “So where are we going?” she changed the subject.
“Where do you think?” the Spirit asked.
“Home,” breathed Edie.
“Do you remember the way?” The flower girl asked, staring hard at Edie.
“Remember it! Of course I remember it!” she scoffed.
“Odd, it isn’t like you visit here often,” the Ghost replied.
Edie rushed off the grass verge and headed down the small country lane, away from the church and towards the village green.
“Look that’s old Mrs Scaman’s cottage, it looks exactly the same. I used to come here because she made the most amazing lemon drizzle cake. And see, all the cats are out sunning themselves. There’s Gerry and Dylan and Merlin.”
She paused.
“But they died when I was a teenager.”
She looked from the cats towards the Ghost who was standing in front of her.
“This is the Past, Edie. Shadows of what has been. They don’t know we’re here,” she replied.
Tell that to Merlin, thought Edie, as the smoky grey cat twined itself between her legs, purring.
“Bloody cats,” said the Ghost. “They never can stick to the rules.”
Five minutes later they stood by a worn wooden gate, a garland of flowers and ribbons covered it. Red balloons bobbed from the gate post.
“But this was Philly’s wedding,” Edie gasped, remembering. “But that was…” she did some frantic calculation in her head and came up with a number which shocked her.
“I told you, I’m the Ghost of Weddings Past,” said the Spirit. “And this was your first wedding. Come watch.”
Edie allowed the small strong hand to pull her to one side of the gate.
Suddenly, out of the front door of the house flew a little red whirlwind about the same age as the Ghost standing beside her. Fine dark hair in a bob was held ruthlessly back with a flower headband that allowed a mischievous freckled face with two front teeth missing to show.
“Look Mummy! Look! Daddy, come and see!” the girl cried as she started twirling in circles, looking down at the way her dress flew round her. “I’m a princess!”
“I felt like a princess that day,” whispered Edie. Her eyes blurred as she stared down at herself. “I used to dream that I could have that day again. That I would have a wedding day and feel like a princess again.”
Behind the young Edie came a woman who was about Edie’s age now.
“Mum!” both Edies cried.
“She is so young,” wondered the older Edie.
“She’s younger than you are now,” pointed out the Ghost.
She was, thought Edie. And she had a family and a home then. It had all gone wrong; everything did, but her mother had known it however briefly. What did Edie have?
A job, a voice in her head said. It sounded like Ms Satis. Edie had a life where she didn’t have to answer to anyone but herself. And that was just fine, wasn’t it?
“Oh this is where my Aunt Philly comes out!” Edie remembered. “She looked like a queen. I wanted to be just like her. We had so much fun planning the flowers and putting together the orders of service. Did you know that flowers have a language? That if you use different blooms they mean something?” Edie was smiling; tension that had been in her jaw for years was easing.
And then from out of the house came a glowing young woman, the dated gown doing nothing to dispel her beauty. Little Edie and her mother instantly surrounded her. When was the last time Edie had been with just her mother and aunt? Last Christmas? The Christmas before?
Oh no, not then. That was the year she had gone away on her own because she was too stressed from work to be able to deal with her mother and the empty space which they all tried to ignore. And well, who had time at weekends to visit? At least she would see her at Mel’s wedding. Edie’s mood dipped.
“I wish,” she whispered, blotting her leaking eyes with the back of her hand, “but it’s too late.”
