“No, no, no!”
“Why not?”
The voice was familiar, but he could not quite bring its owner to mind. “Seeing double.”
More giggles.
“Open your eyes.”
That voice… was it…? Tentatively, he opened his eyes, but it was no good. “Still two of you. Two ghosts.” He snapped them shut at once.
They giggled again.
“Will you not sit up?”
Itwasher, it was! He opened both eyes. Still two ghosts. His eyes flicked from one to the other. How was that possible?
Why was he lying on the floor, clutching a bottle?
One of the ghosts knelt on the floor beside him, her head tilted to one side. A different perfume, less strong, reminding him of— Was it really her, or had his brandy-befuddled brain conjured an apparition?
“Robert, try to sit up. I am persuaded you will feel much better.”
Whether she was flesh and blood or not, he could not disobey her. With a struggle, he pushed himself up and leaned against the wall. The bottle rolled away under a chair. He was in his book room, he realised. No wonder his bed had felt uncomfortable, for he had been lying on the carpet.
The room shifted and swayed, and he closed his eyes again.
There was a sigh, another rustle of silk and the stronger perfume came nearer.
“Have a drink of water.” Her voice again.
A glass was pressed against his lips, and a little cool water trickled into his mouth. Gratefully, he opened his eyes again. She was smiling, and oh, there it was!
“Dimple!” he cried triumphantly. “’Tis you. Knew it.” His eyes were drawn to the other ghost, standing nearby with the water jug. She was smiling, too, but there was no dimple. “Izzy? What you doin’ here?”
“My little sister was making a hash of things, so Mama and I came to fix everything.” She bent down and reached under the chair to retrieve the bottle. “Heavens, Robert, how much of this stuff have you drunk?”
“Lots. Too much. Not enough.”
They both laughed again. “What are we going to do with him?” Izzy said.
“Throw him in the river?” Olivia said. “That would sober him up.”
“We should throw him off the roof, more like. Foolish man!”
“I should not like him to be hurt, Izzy.”
“Then you will just have to kiss him.”
Robert made a strangled sound deep in his throat, and squeezed his eyes shut again.
“No, no! Open your eyes!” Olivia cried.
He shook his head, then winced as brandy-induced pain lanced through him. “Want to keep dreaming.”
“This is not a dream, silly boy. You truly are as drunk as a wheelbarrow, and I truly am here.”
“No, no, no, no! If I look at you, you’ll disappear like a soap bubble popping or… or just fade away. Couldn’t bear it, Livvy. Too horrible for words. Have to throwmyselfoff the roof.”
