Make a Christmas Wish Page 8

  ‘What do you mean?’ Adam says. ‘Joe, you know Mum’s not here. She died. You understand what that means, don’t you?’

  He’s so gentle with Joe. I would have hugged him if I could. I go to Adam, but he stares right through me. I so want him to notice me; to feel his touch, yet he doesn’t even know I’m here.

  ‘Mum’s turned the lights off,’ says Joe in a matter-of-fact way, ‘but it’s OK, she’ll turn them back on again.’

  I feel totally stupid then, and focus on the mains switch, which I’ve just worked out I seem to be able to turn on and off at will. Within seconds the lights are back on and Mum and Adam are standing looking aghast at Joe.

  ‘See, I told you,’ says Joe, but he carries on looking right through me. ‘It’s OK, she just wants to be with us.’

  ‘If she is here, I’m sure she’d only be thinking of us,’ says Adam cautiously.

  ‘Of course I am!’ I snap pettishly. ‘What on earth would you expect?’

  I am dismayed. Why can’t they see me? What does a girl have to do to get noticed around here?

  ‘That’s right,’ says Joe happily. ‘She just wants to say hello.’

  I feel totally rubbish then. I’d been so angry when I came in, furious with Mum for saying Emily should move in. Whose side was she on, anyway? Clearly not mine. But Joe’s response has taken the wind out of my sails. I only want to talk to him properly, to tell him I love him.

  ‘I’m going to watch TV now,’ says Joe, ‘’Bye, Mum.’ And with that he’s gone.

  Adam and Mum look at one another.

  ‘Now do you see what I mean?’ says Mum. ‘I think you really ought to get him to see a counsellor again.’

  ‘OK,’ says Adam reluctantly. ‘I hope we can find someone who understands Joe this time though. Joe looked at the last one as if he had two heads. I’ll get on to the GP in the morning, see what she advises.’ Our GP has known Joe his whole life. It’s a reasonable thought.

  ‘He’s not grieving,’ I say, though of course no one hears. ‘Because he knows I’m here. He’s the only one who does.’

  Every moment I’ve had since I arrived back to the house, I’ve been sitting with Joe when he’s on his own. He knows I’m there because he talks to me about his astronomy projects at college, and about Caroline, who he’s thinking of asking out. He doesn’t appear to hear all my responses, but I know he’s happy I’m around. If only everyone else could see it too.

  How was I ever going to get through to them? I need to speak to Adam and Joe to tell them how sorry I am, to tell them I love them. The thing is, for all Malachi tells me I’ve got to sort my shit out, now I’m here, in my house, seeing my husband and son, all I want is to be with them again, I can’t let Evil Emily become Joe’s new mum, I just can’t. That is going to happen over my dead body.

  And as for Mum, I’m furious with her for accepting Emily into the family so readily. ‘You wouldn’t if you knew what I know!’ I yell furiously, but of course she can’t hear me.

  Malachi has shown me how to channel my powers to move objects, but I still haven’t mastered it very well. But it’s time I step up Campaign Haunt My Husband a notch, to make him take notice of me once and for all. So I concentrate really hard on tipping the fruit bowl off the table, although it seems to require more effort than switching the power on and off, and it’s a struggle to push it over the edge.

  It lands with a satisfying crash on the floor, with the apples and satsumas rolling everywhere.

  ‘What was that?’ says Adam, nearly jumping out of his skin.

  ‘That, dear husband,’ I say, ‘is only the beginning …’

  Chapter Five

  Emily

  Emily was shopping in Tesco’s for Christmas. It was the first time Emily had ever cooked a Christmas lunch – Dad, bless him, had managed to get his friendly women to cook for him after Mum died, and when Emily was married, they’d always gone to Graham’s for a dull family Christmas dinner, the implication being that she wasn’t really up to the task. Emily loved the way that Adam pulled his weight in their relationship.

  ‘You’re doing Christmas Day,’ he’d said, knowing how much it meant to her, ‘so I’ll cook for your dad and Felicity.’

  Despite her anxiety about how they were all going to get through the day, Emily couldn’t help feeling excited as she wandered down the aisles filling her trolley. Their first Christmas together: she had to pinch herself to believe it could be happening, particularly after last year when she thought she might never see Adam again. On reaching the turkey aisle she was surprised by the choice. How on earth did she work out what she wanted? She enjoyed spending time in the kitchen but her cooking hitherto had been of the spag bol, pasta-bake type. Graham hadn’t often been in for dinner, and when he was home they’d tended to live on takeaways and ready meals, so the thought of cooking a full Christmas dinner was giving Emily palpitations. She didn’t have a clue what kind of turkey to buy. Regretting her rather independent decision not to consult Adam about it, Emily stood looking at the turkeys feeling ridiculously incompetent. She wondered whether she’d bitten off more than she could chew. She so wanted to prove to Adam that she could step into his family and make Christmas special for all of them, but she was beginning to appreciate that it might not be as easy as that.

  This was ridiculous. Independent cooking didn’t mean Emily couldn’t consult an expert, so she rang Lucy, who had years of experience of cooking Christmas dinner.

  ‘As it’s your first time, I’d be tempted to go with a turkey crown,’ Lucy advised.

  ‘I’d rather do it properly, if I can,’ Emily said.

  ‘OK. It’s too late to order a turkey from the butcher’s, so get yourself a frozen turkey and make sure you defrost it in plenty of time.’

  Apparently Lucy had forgotten to do this the first year she cooked turkey and they had to have chipolatas for lunch.

  ‘If you want to play it really risky you can panic-buy on Christmas Eve, but I’ve been there, and believe you me, you don’t want to do that.’

  Even with Lucy’s helpful advice, Emily still found herself gawking like an idiot at the huge selection of turkeys.

  After some deliberation, she settled on a ten-pound bird. Better to have leftovers, right? And the boys had huge appetites.

  Then she raided the Christmas pudding section. Having accepted her limitations, Emily wasn’t quite brave enough to make one of them. The selection was vast: orange-flavoured, fruit-filled, boozy. So many varieties. Who knew? She chose two, in case everyone hated the marmalade one, which she herself quite fancied, and heaped packets of mince pies on top. Then she couldn’t resist lots of treats and booze. By the time Emily got to the till, her trolley was piled high.

  Tesco’s was crammed full of grumpy people buying food like it was going out of fashion, and the tills were manic. Eventually it was Emily’s turn and she started loading her purchases on to the belt. As she picked the turkey up, she felt a slight frisson of unease, as a familiar sensation of cold menace came over her, and then the turkey slipped out of her hands and landed with a thump on her foot.

  Emily screamed out loud, and started hopping on her good foot. She couldn’t believe how much it hurt.

  ‘Are you all right?’ The girl on the till came rushing round, and made her sit down at a chair behind the till. She called over a supervisor, who insisted that Emily fill in an accident form. ‘I’m fine, really,’ said Emily, squirming with embarrassment as she watched the queue behind her go into meltdown. She tried to stand up, but the pain was horrific so she had to sit down again.

  After twenty minutes the pain had receded a little bit but Emily was still hobbling, so the supervisor accompanied her to the car with her trolley. Mortified by the incident, Emily’s earlier good mood had vanished.

  It was sleeting again as she loaded the food in the car. A possible white Christmas was forecast, though Emily wasn’t convinced. She felt sure the nearest they’d get to snow would be this miserable grey
slush.

  As Emily shut the boot, she felt a trickle of unease. She had the weird sensation that someone was watching her; someone very angry and spiteful. Which was ridiculous. The car park was full of tired, hungry shoppers, none of them interested in what Emily was doing. She was imagining things.

  Adam

  ‘Joe,’ I say, poking my head round the doorway, after Felicity has gone home. ‘Can I have a word?’

  ‘A word? What word?’ Joe looks blank for a moment, and then I say, ‘Can I talk to you?’ and he relaxes and motions me to sit down on his bed. He’s constructing a model of the latest space shuttle. He is absorbed in its intricate lines, and I usually love watching him work. But I have to interrupt him now.

  ‘Joe,’ I begin cautiously, ‘would you like to talk about Mum?’

  ‘Mum died,’ says Joe cheerfully. It’s disconcerting the way he does that, as if he hasn’t quite taken in the enormity of what has happened. Yet at other times he can seem sad, like he’s really missing her.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘So yesterday – you understand that she has gone and won’t ever come back, don’t you? You know you can’t have seen her.’

  ‘I didn’t see her,’ says Joe, ‘but she’s here. I feel her in my head.’

  This is worse than I thought. My heart contracts with pain for my lovely vulnerable son. What a godawful thing to have happened to him so young. I’ve tried my best, but I clearly haven’t picked up on how much he is missing his mum.

  ‘The thing is, Joe, you know that can’t be right, don’t you?’ I say. ‘I know it’s a nice thought to imagine Mum is talking to you, but it’s not true.’

  ‘Yes it is,’ says Joe, ‘because Mum hasn’t gone yet. She wants to see us still. She misses us.’

  ‘Joe,’ I say, a chill going down my spine. ‘What are you saying exactly?’

  ‘Mum’s a ghost,’ says Joe, ‘and she’s pretty pissed off with you.’

  As well she might be.

  This is madness, though. Joe seemed to cope very well after Livvy died, but then his reactions aren’t like other people’s. Though we both howled together at the graveside, and he even let me hug him, since then he’s retreated into himself, while appearing to be perfectly happy. He always says he is when I ask. Now I feel terrible. I’ve let both him and Livvy down. I know Livvy would have handled this much better than I am doing. I miss her suddenly with a terrible aching pang.

  ‘Look, Joe, I think maybe we should go and see Dr Clarkson, have a chat about some of the things you’re feeling.’

  ‘OK,’ says Joe, shrugging his shoulders, ‘but I’m not mad, you know.’

  ‘I never said you were,’ I begin.

  ‘You thought it, though,’ says Joe dispassionately. ‘But, honestly, I’m not mad. Mum’s here and I think she’s planning to stay.’

  Livvy

  I’ve been quite pleased with myself since I made Emily drop the turkey on her toe. Small and petty I know, but it made me feel better, even though I know Malachi will tell me off.

  But now, listening to Adam and Joe’s conversation, I’m pretty put out. Adam will have Joe seeing a shrink before I know it, and I hadn’t planned for that at all. He doesn’t need to see a shrink, he needs me, and for Adam not to ruin his life by bringing that conniving cow into it.

  I mull over my (limited) options, and decide I’ll just have to stick with the plan of upping the haunting, so they all realize I’m there, and that Joe isn’t making it up. I decide I’ve been way too tame so far, and I need to create the maximum chaos. So I start moving stuff around. I’m getting better at it now, and I have to confess it’s tremendous fun; particularly seeing the puzzled look on Adam’s face when he finds something somewhere unexpected.

  I hide Adam’s phone under the sofa. I unplug his iPod and put the charger in a saucepan at the back of a cupboard. He only discovers it when he’s cooking dinner the next night.

  I deliberately don’t take anything of Joe’s, until I hear Adam talking about it worriedly with Mum.

  ‘I’m worried Joe is taking things,’ he said. ‘But if I ask him he looks at me blankly. I’m not sure what on earth I should do.’

  ‘It doesn’t seem like Joe,’ Mum said. Because it’s not Joe, I try and scream at them. Honestly! The pair of them are being so dense it’s driving me nuts.

  So I up it a notch, and put Mum’s purse in Adam’s briefcase, and Joe’s wallet in Mum’s handbag. It takes a lot of effort – the poltergeist aspect of haunting your family is a lot more tiring than I imagined it would be, and I am exhausted at the end of it all. Malachi tells me even though we’re dead ghosts need space to replenish their energy levels.

  ‘I feel like I’m losing my mind,’ says Adam to Evil Emily, next time she’s round. (I’m pathetically pleased to see she’s still limping.) ‘I just can’t work out what’s going on. I can’t seem to find anything any more. If I believed in such things, I’d say we had a poltergeist.’

  ‘We do,’ says Joe, who’s calmly colouring in the corner of the kitchen. ‘It’s Mum, she’s trying to get our attention.’

  ‘OK, Joe, even if that were true,’ says Adam cautiously, ‘I don’t see why she should be hiding our things.’

  ‘Because you’re not listening to her of course,’ says Joe. ‘She just wants you to listen.’

  ‘That’s right,’ I say, standing between Adam and Emily, ‘please listen to me.’

  I knock a cup on the floor.

  But Adam looks right through me and says, ‘Careful, Joe,’ and shrugs his shoulders at Emily, and that hurts more than anything else could. What do I have to do to get him to see me?

  Emily touches Adam’s hand and it goes right through me. I feel sick, trapped in the middle like this, feeling the love that flows between them. ‘Did you get an appointment?’ she says.

  ‘Yes, we’re seeing Dr Clarkson tomorrow.’

  ‘It will be fine,’ says Emily. ‘It’s only natural that Joe’s been upset by everything.’

  ‘I’m not upset,’ says Joe chattily, getting up to make himself a drink. ‘But Mum is.’

  And I am. Suddenly I feel as if my heart will burst out of my chest – well, if I still had a chest, or a heart for that matter.

  I let out a wail and the Christmas cards that Adam has been opening slightly lift off the table. Hang on, that’s new. I didn’t know I could levitate stuff. I try wailing again to no avail. And then I get down by the table and let out an ear-splitting scream, and the cards blow off, scattering in all directions.

  ‘You have to admit,’ says Emily, ‘that is odd.’

  Chapter Six

  Adam

  Today I’ve taken time off work I can ill afford, to take Joe to the doctor’s, trying to find out proper answers to his behaviour. I feel anxious. Livvy always dealt with the medical stuff, and I am completely out of my depth. What if there’s something seriously wrong with him? Joe has enough problems. I can’t stand the thought of him suffering any more because of losing his mum. Emily has agreed to come with us, more for my moral support than his. I don’t think Joe cares one way or another. In fact, he seems quite indifferent about the whole thing.

  When Dr Clarkson calls us in, I have no idea what I’m going to say to her. I like Dr Clarkson, she’s kind and friendly, with a no-nonsense air about her. I saw her for a bit in the first awful weeks after Livvy died, when I was completely poleaxed and wasn’t sleeping. She prescribed me tablets, which I still don’t take because they made me feel so spaced out, it was as if I wasn’t functioning. Terrible as it was feeling the way I did, I preferred that to the effects of the medication.

  ‘Hi. What can I do for you?’ she says, a mixture of professionalism and ready sympathy.

  ‘Erm,’ I clear my throat.

  And then Joe interjects, ‘Dad thinks I’m mad.’

  ‘Joe,’ I protest. ‘That’s not why we’re here.’

  ‘And do you think you’re mad, Joe?’ Dr Clarkson asks kindly.

  ‘No,’ says Joe. ‘
I have Asperger’s. That’s different.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ says Dr Clarkson, smiling. ‘So can you tell me what’s been happening?’

  ‘Mum’s come back,’ says Joe.

  ‘Right,’ says Dr Clarkson. To her credit she doesn’t bat an eyelid. I suppose she hears all sorts in here. ‘And what makes you think that?’

  ‘Because she came to visit me in the café and calmed me down,’ says Joe. ‘No one but Mum can do that. And she sits with me in my room and I tell her about physics and my friend, Caroline.’

  I start. I wonder if Caroline has become his girlfriend? I suppose it makes sense that he can’t tell me. Maybe that’s why he’s pretending Livvy’s here. Dr Clarkson is clearly thinking on similar lines.

  ‘And you don’t think you’re imagining that to help you?’ she says gently. ‘You’ve been through a rough time. It’s only natural.’

  ‘It’s Mum,’ says Joe stubbornly. ‘She’s upset about Dad and Emily, only no one else is listening.’

  Emily and I exchange nervous glances. We’d discussed the events of the previous evening when we went to bed last night. Emily still thinks the cards blowing off the table was strange, but I am doggedly determined it must have been a gust of wind.

  Emily didn’t agree. ‘I know it sounds bonkers,’ she said, ‘but I’ve been having the strangest feeling that someone is watching me. And I swear something tripped me up in the street the other day. Then there was the turkey incident and what happened in the bar at your party. I didn’t spill that drink by accident.’

  ‘This is nonsense. So you’ve suddenly developed a clumsy streak,’ I snapped, because the thought of that made me feel too anxious. I refuse to believe that Livvy has come back. Dead is dead. I saw her body. I watched her coffin go in the ground. I don’t believe in ghosts.

  ‘What if you’re wrong and Joe and I are right?’ Emily was still persisting this morning before we came here, much to my annoyance.