‘I’m not fifty until the end of the year, thank you very much,’ he’d retorted indignantly. ‘You’ll be forty-five in the summer. You’re catching up.’
‘Catching up but notgivingup. Why would we want to move away from here? We’ve got this lovely house?—’
‘It’s a three-bedroomed terraced house, Kirsty,’ he’d pointed out. ‘It’s hardly Windsor Castle.’
‘But it’s home! And the commute to Oxford Circus is very manageable for me, andyouonly have to go into the office one day a week most weeks, so it’s not like it’s a problem for you.’
‘I know that. It’s just…’ Rory had sighed and shrugged. ‘I was just saying, that’s all. Forget it.’
And I had. Or at least, I’d tried to. But it had kept nagging away at me, because I’d had that conversation before and look where that had led me.
And now here he was, sneaking the subject of rural life into the conversation again. What if that was the real reason he’d wanted me to take a week off work? What if hedidharbour hopes of moving away from here? What if he had a whole host of viewings lined up in some godforsaken place in the middle of nowhere? Lincolnshire even, which seemed liked a million miles away to me but was where he’d grown up, and where his mum and dad still lived.
What the hell would I do then?
2
BROOKE
‘I’m telling you now, if she’s planning some ridiculous spring ball or something I’ll tell her where to shove it.’
Ernie Baldwin nodded smugly at his fellow cynic, Gordon Thwaite. They were never happier than when attending these meetings at The Magic Lantern, Rowan Vale’s vintage cinema, and doing their best to put the village’s owner, Callie, in her place.
‘Don’t they ever shut up moaning?’ Brooke muttered crossly as she craned her neck to shoot the oblivious residents a filthy look. ‘At least Calliedoesthings for us. At least she gives us something to look forward to. Not that they’d care, of course, being alive and everything.’ She nudged Danny, who was slouched in the chair beside her. ‘Selfish, right?’
Danny shrugged. ‘S’pose so.’
Behind them they heard a giggle, and Polly Herron’s voice came to them. ‘I reckon she’s planning a proper May Day celebration. Maybe there’ll be a maypole and them dancers with the jingle bells strapped to their knees.’
Brooke twisted round in her seat and groaned. ‘Morris dancers? I hope you’re wrong about that, Polly!’
‘Well, whatever it is, I think we’re about to find out,’ said Ray, Polly’s younger brother. He nodded and they all turned to face the front, where Callie had just walked on stage, accompanied by her boyfriend, Brodie. They were hand in hand as usual and looked sickeningly happy.
Brooke sighed and glanced at Danny. Even in that ridiculous make-up and the stupid costume he was gorgeous. Besides, she’d got used to the Adam Ant look now. It wasn’t his fault, was it? It had beenheridea for him to go to the party dressed like that. She’d thought he’d look dashing, with his dark curls and fabulous bone structure. How was she supposed to know they’d never come home again, and he’d be stuck dressed that way for all eternity?
After all, if she’d had an inkling, she’d never have gone to the event dressed like one of the girls from Bananarama, now, would she? She ran a hand through her straw-like hair, which had been sprayed to within an inch of its life as she’d got ready for the fancy dress party that fateful night. Trust her to have to spend her entire afterlife in this get-up.
And to think, she’d nearly chosen to go as a 1980s Madonna. She’d have looked so much sexier if she had. Maybe Danny would have noticed her if she’d been wearing fingerless lace gloves, fishnet stockings and a rara skirt, instead of a T-shirt, high-waisted trousers, red braces and chunky Doc Marten boots, with hair that wouldn’t look out of place on Wurzel Gummidge.
‘Thanks so much for coming,’ Callie said. ‘Just a few things I wanted to run past you all. Firstly, after listening to and reading all your suggestions as to what to do with the proceeds from the Christmas market and Dickensian weekend, the funds have now been assigned. We’re going to use some of the money to make improvements to the village library, which is in dire need of an upgrade. We’re also going to install some computers there for the use of all villagers who need access to the internet and don’t have their own computer.’
‘Like we’d know what to do with a computer,’ Gordon said.
‘And we intend to start a computer club for those of you who don’t know how to use them,’ Callie continued. ‘In this day and age, having access to the internet can be so useful, and we don’t want our, er, longer-term residents to miss out on anything by not having that.
‘We also thought it would be fun to have a get-together every week, or even twice a week, where people can have a catch-up and a chat. To that end, as well as the computer club we’re going to start a book club, and everyone will be welcome. Now, obviously you ghosts can chat about books, too, but the problem is that most people won’t be able to hear your opinions, so we’ll have a discussion later about whether you’d like your own separate book club. We’ll be stocking up on audiobooks so reading won’t be a problem. The library is such a lovely old building, and we really want to make more use of it.’
‘She could have put all this in that flaming newsletter of hers,’ Ernie Baldwin grumbled, as Callie continued to share various news, such as the plans for weekly summer tea dances in the ballroom at Harling Hall, and the forthcoming opening of the model village. ‘Wasting our time like this.’
‘Didn’t have to come, did you?’ Percy Swain snapped.
Naturally, Ernie Baldwin carried on moaning to Gordon Thwaite. Neither of them had a clue that the ghost of the old station porter was sitting right next to them, clearly very indignant on Callie’s behalf.
‘Too nosy to stay at home,’ Ray said, rolling his eyes. ‘Rather stay here and heckle.’
‘Like those two old blokes from The Muppets,’ Brooke agreed, receiving a blank look in return from Ray – who’d died on New Year’s Day 1948 and had no clue who The Muppets were.
‘Finally, there’s one more thing I’d like to tell you all,’ Callie said. She smiled at Brodie, who squeezed her hand and nodded as he smiled back. ‘A couple of nights ago, Brodie asked me to marry him. And I said yes.’
