‘You’re taking it very well,’ she said, as she turned away. ‘I should have thought you’d be a screaming, hysterical mess by now. I’m sure I would have been if the positions were reversed. But then, you always were pretty unemotional, weren’t you?’
I didn’t have time to ask her what she meant by that because she’d vanished. I stared, open-mouthed, wondering where she’d popped off to. So ghosts really could just appear and disappear like on the films? Well, how was I supposed to follow her to her flat if I couldn’t see her?
Suddenly I jumped, scared out of my wits, as a head appeared in front of me.
‘Brooke!’
She was peering at me from the closed door of the hairdressing salon. Evidently she’d walked straight through it and had popped her head back out to see where I was.
‘Are you coming, or what?’
‘Into a salon?’
‘Our— my flat’s above the shop. You can’t just go up so you’ll have to ask the stylists for permission.’
‘What am I supposed to say? My dead cousin has invited me up to her flat?’
‘Exactly that,’ she said. ‘I told you. Most people round here know about the ghosts. They won’t be surprised.’
‘Okay. If you say so.’
I reached for the handle and she said quickly, ‘I forgot to mention. Make sure you specify that you’re here for Brooke. I have a flatmate you see.’
I immediately felt nervous. ‘A flatmate? Will she mind me being in her flat?’
‘Er, she’s not in. She’s, er, out this afternoon. Think she’s got choir practice.’
I almost laughed but decided, on balance, that perhaps I’d better not. ‘Fine. I’ll be sure to make it clear.’
In the event I had no problem at all. There were three stylists milling around the salon, which was laid out just like the ones I’d seen on retro jigsaws or nostalgia calendars. One was busy backcombing a customer’s hair into an enormous beehive. Another was sweeping up hair from the floor, and a third was taking payment from another customer at the till.
‘Excuse me,’ I said to the one with the sweeping brush. ‘Sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I go up to Brooke’s flat?’
‘Brooke?’ she asked, clearly surprised. ‘And you are…?’
‘Her cousin.’
‘Oh, right. Well, that’s a turn-up for the books. She’s never had a living visitor before. Aw, that’s nice for her. She’s a lovely lass by all accounts. I’ll show you the way.’
‘No need,’ I said, nodding towards a door markedPrivate. ‘Brooke’s waiting for me. I can follow her. I just needed your permission to go through, that’s all.’
‘Oh, fair enough. Hey, good job I wasn’t saying anything bad about her, wasn’t it?’ She giggled and went back to sweeping up hair.
Brooke shook her head slightly and walked straight through the door. I followed, though sadly I had to actually open the thing first.
The flat upstairs was fairly compact and basic but much better than I’d expected. All the doors were closed, which I supposed was no problem for Brooke and her flatmate, and I didn’t like to pry, but she told me it had a bathroom which was completely redundant, and a kitchen which was also of no use whatsoever to them.
‘But the bedrooms are useful so we can get away from each other and the beds are comfy?—’
‘The beds are comfy? You sleep on beds?’
‘Where did you expect us to sleep? Did you think we each had a sarcophagus in our room or something?’
‘Well, I thought maybe a coffin. Sorry. Bad joke. It’s just…’ I frowned, trying to puzzle it out. ‘How can you walk through doors yet lie on beds without falling through them?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s one of life’s mysteries. Or the afterlife’s mysteries. How should I know? I didn’t make the rules, did I?’
‘No, I suppose not.’
