‘Yes, but is she stillmywife? Tell me honestly, Rory. Is Kirsty married to someone else?’
Rory stared at him for what felt like forever. Then he shook his head slightly.
‘Kirsty is still Mrs Harrison, Danny.’
Danny blew out his cheeks. ‘Right. Thanks, Rory. Good to know.’
Although, was it? Eighteen years was a long time for Kirsty to be alone. He couldn’t help feeling guilty about her.
And there was something else, too. Something he couldn’t quite understand and didn’t want to think about too much.
He gave Rory a bright smile, determined not to dwell on all that. ‘So, tell me all about Mum and Dad. Has Dad still got that allotment?’
‘He hasn’t. It got a bit much for him,’ Rory admitted. ‘But don’t worry. He’s perfectly content with his little garden these days, and he and Mum are in good health considering their age and still take an active role in village life. But tell me more about this flat you and Brooke share. How on earth does that work? And how did it come about?’
‘Oh.’ Danny shook his head slightly. ‘That was all thanks to the kindness of strangers…’
19
DANNY
The flat above the hairdressing salon hadn’t been their choice, but once he and Brooke had arrived at Harling Hall that fateful night, most of the decisions had been taken out of their hands and, at the time, they’d been grateful for it.
Lawrie had ushered them into a cosy living room, where they were joined moments later by a rather grand gentleman in Victorian clothes, who’d introduced himself as Aubrey Wyndham, and a flustered looking woman in old-fashioned nightclothes who Aubrey said was his wife, Agnes.
There’d then followed quite the discussion, as Lawrie, Agnes, Aubrey, Peter and Isaac tried to explain what their presence in Rowan Vale meant, and what should happen next.
‘You’re saying we can’t go home?’ Danny had said, aghast. ‘We can’t ever go back to see our families?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Lawrie had replied, shaking his head sadly. ‘Your boundaries will be those of the Harling Estate. You were very close to the edge of it, actually. A few more yards and you’d have been out of it, and who knows where you’d have found yourselves then. You were very lucky.’
‘Lucky?’ Brooke had gasped. ‘I don’t see what’s lucky about being killed in a car accident when I’m only twenty-five and I can’t ever get home to see my family again.’
‘Well of course, that’s not ideal,’ Lawrie had agreed, with breathtaking understatement, ‘but what I mean is that if you’re going to be a ghost, believe me you can’t do better than to be a ghost in this lovely little village of ours. You’ll have plenty of company for a start, and we believe in making our guests very comfortable.’
‘Soyou’renot a ghost then?’ Danny had asked, confused.
‘No. Not yet anyway,’ Lawrie had said, laughing. ‘You see, this is a very special estate. More ghosts are here than almost anywhere in Britain, or so it’s believed. We don’t exactly know why, but we think it’s something to do with the standing stones and the ley lines. You see?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ Danny had replied dully. ‘How comeyoucan see us if you’re still alive?’
‘It’s a gift,’ Lawrie had said modestly. ‘The owners of the Harling Estate have to possess the ability to communicate with their ghostly residents, otherwise they must sell the estate to someone who can. That’s the way it’s worked here since – well, who knows how long for? There were Harlings here at the time of William the Conqueror, and they possessed the gift, so…’ He sighed. ‘I know this all sounds terribly strange, but you’ll get used to it eventually. Now, you’re welcome to stay here tonight of course, but we’ll need to find you more permanent accommodation as soon as possible. You need to start making an afterlife for yourselves. How lovely that you have each other! Are you, er – what do you say these days – an item?’
Brooke had turned to look at Danny, who’d immediately said, ‘Certainly not!’
‘We work together,’ Brooke had explained hastily. ‘I mean,worked.’
Danny had seen her gulp and he’d realised they would never work together again. Their days at the pharmaceutical company were over.
‘You know, I always hated that job,’ she’d murmured. ‘But now I know I’ll never go back to it, I feel oddly sad.’
‘I never knew you hated the job,’ Danny had said, surprised. ‘I thought you loved it. You always seemed really cheerful whenever I saw you on reception.’
‘Hmm,’ Brooke had replied vaguely. ‘Well, it had some perks, I suppose.’ She’d turned to Lawrie. ‘We were at a party you see. Celebrating someone’s retirement. It was a 1980s fancy dress party. That’s why we’re wearing these costumes.’
‘Oh,’ Lawrie had said. ‘I wondered why you were wearing such extraordinary clothes, but I didn’t like to mention it.’
‘I’m relieved to hear those aren’t your usual clothes,’ Agnes had agreed, pursing her lips in disapproval. ‘You look positively ridiculous.’
