Page 40 of The Little Shop of Curiosities Cursed Object 1, The Music Box

“Marginally, and with the best intentions.” She waves a hand and her fingers, tipped with lethal-looking talons painted a murderous red, sparkle as they catch the light.

“Should I sit down for this conversation?”

“Pfft,” she huffs. “You can tap-dance a fandango if you want as long as I have your attention.”

“You are pretty hard to miss.”

She coos, “That’s very sweet, Red.”

“Not my name.”

“Anyway, Raspberry Ripple.” I roll my eyes but take a seat in the nearest chair. “So, the Upstairs Management told me–”

I raise my hand and she pauses. “The Upstairs Management?”

“You know, the higher powers, the powers that be, whatever you want to call them. They told me that I need to make sure you and Tristan get to know each other.”

“One sentence and yet so many questions,” I mutter, staring at her.

“Listen, Strawberry Shortcake.” She waves her hand again. “How much has Tristan told you?”

“About?”

“Everything. How he came to be able to see dead people, how he and I met.”

“Nothing.” I frown. “Why would he? I barely know him. Other than running into him in Whitechapel and then the pair of you falling into my shop like conjoined twins, I’ve barely spoken to him.”

“Rhubarb Tart, I thought you all went out for dinner?”

“Yes, but that was a huge mistake.” My back stiffens. “I barely got two words out before the storm hit and the power went out. After the vis–” I pause, abruptly realising what I was about to let slip.

“After what?” Dusty’s eyes narrow.

“Nothing,” I mutter.

“You can tell me, you know. I do have clearance.”

“You don’t work for the government, do you?” I blink, but she just shrugs.

“You’d be surprised at just how much of the afterlife is bureaucratised.”

I think about it for a moment. “Actually, I probably wouldn’t.”

“I’m a spirit guide,” she announces. “Well…a spirit guide in training,” she amends. I stare at her blankly and she continues. “I was murdered last year at The Rainbow Room in Shoreditch where I performed as a drag queen.”

“I kind of figured that much out.”

“You ever been to The Rainbow Room, Cranberry Muffin?”

“No, I only moved here a month or so ago,” I say peevishly, “and will you stop naming me after red-coloured desserts? My name is Harrison.”

“I know,” she says simply. “Anyway, I was murdered.”

“So you said.”

“This happened to coincide with the moment Tris found out he could see ghosts, and–”

“Wait,” I hold up my hand. “This is a new ability for Tristan? He wasn’t born with the gift?”