Authors: Kathleen McGurl
‘Matt, I am so glad you are in. Look, can I borrow a couple of quid? To pay for this taxi? I’ll pay you back, soon as I can. And can I come in?’
‘Kelly. Hello. Is something wrong?’ He frowned, his eyes sad and hurt, and she remembered how he’d thought she was two-timing him with Jack. She’d been so obsessed by Joan and Jack, she’d allowed him to think Jack was someone real, someone alive, and not just a product of her imagination. Or had Joan’s influence made her let him think that? Right now all Kelly wanted was to be held in Matt’s warm, friendly arms. Where she belonged.
‘Yeah, kind of. It’s a long story. Can I just get rid of the taxi? Then I’ll explain. If it’s OK to come in… Thing is, I can’t go home, and I’ve no money and no phone…’
‘For fuck’s sake, Kelly.’ Matt dug in his pocket and pulled out a two-pound coin. He thrust it at her then turned and walked back into the house, leaving the front door open.
So he wasn’t turning her away, at least. She paid the taxi driver, took a deep breath and followed Matt inside, closing the door behind her. He was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with his head in his hands.
‘Thanks, Matt. I didn’t know where else to go.’
‘What, have you run away from home or something? Acting the drama queen as usual? And you thought your ex-boyfriend’s house was the best place to turn up? Why didn’t you go to Leanne’s?’
Kelly shrugged. ‘I’m not really friends with Leanne any more. Besides—’ she put her hand tentatively on his shoulder ‘—I wanted to see you. I want to tell you everything, to try to explain what happened. It’s, well, it’s kind of weird and you might not believe me, but please, hear me out.’
He stared at her, his eyes still full of hurt. She met his gaze, willing him to soften and listen to her. She didn’t know why, but she had the strongest feeling that Matt was the only person who would understand. If she explained it well enough. Her stomach lurched every time she recalled how she’d treated him—kind, gentle Matt who’d adored her, and who she’d pushed away by her obsession with events from seventy years ago.
‘Go on then. Tell me.’ Matt leaned back in his chair, arms folded.
‘Should we go upstairs? For privacy, I mean. This could take some time. I don’t want your parents interrupting in the middle of it.’
‘They’re on holiday till next week. I’m home alone, poor me.’ He pulled a face. Kelly smiled. That was more like it, her old, funny Matt back again.
‘Can I make us a cup of tea?’ she said, already filling the kettle.
‘Go on, then. You remember where everything is?’
‘Of course. It’s only been a month or so since I was last here.’
‘Feels like for ever,’ he said, quietly.
Kelly made the tea in silence, then took the cups through to the living room. She sat at one end of the sofa, while Matt chose an overstuffed armchair. Memories of evenings spent watching DVDs while cuddled together on the sofa ran through her mind, but she pushed them aside. Maybe, if he understood, and if he could somehow help her, there could be another chance for them, in time.
‘Go on, then,’ he said, taking a sip of his tea. ‘I’m listening.’
She took a deep breath, and told him everything. How she’d had a strange feeling about the house the very first time she entered it. How she’d become obsessed with the past ever since they discovered the ‘Joan loves Jack’ writing on her bedroom wall and the box of photos and letters in the cellar. How she’d felt a cold draught on the stairs, and the feeling that someone—Joan—was watching her, influencing her, persuading her to dress in clothes from the 1940s. How she’d felt as though she couldn’t get on with her life until she’d found out everything she could about Joan and Jack, and what had happened to them.
Matt listened in silence. ‘So when you told me you were obsessed by Jack, you meant this Joan’s boyfriend?’
Kelly nodded. ‘Her sweetheart, yes.’
‘Sweetheart? That sounds like one of her words, not yours.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s just that word sounds right for describing their relationship. Boyfriend sounds weird. If they were still alive today they’d be really old. And it’s strange, but now I’m here she feels more distant. I don’t feel as though she’s so much in my head. She’s still there, but it’s like she’s looking over my shoulder and maybe whispering in my ear, rather than right inside my head.’ She stared at him. ‘Matt, you’re the only person I’ve told all this to. Tell me honestly, do you think I’m going mad?’
He was slow to answer, regarding her carefully with his sad grey eyes. She wished she could put that look of love back in them, the special look he’d always had for her, since they’d started going out together.
‘No, Kelly. I don’t think you’re going mad. And I don’t think you’re making it up, either. Do you believe in ghosts?’
She opened her mouth to answer, but he didn’t give her the chance.
‘Because I do. And I think some can’t rest, until they’ve resolved something, or found something. I reckon this Joan is dead, but can’t sleep quietly for some reason. And for some reason she thinks you can help.’
‘But why me?’ Kelly felt she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear more of Matt’s theory.
‘I suppose because you live in that house, where she must once have lived. I wonder who she was?’
‘We showed Great-gran the photos we found in the cellar. The one of the three girls and the other one of the soldier. She told us the third girl was her little sister, Joan, and the soldier was her boyfriend, Jack. I’d already guessed who they were, from having read Jack’s letters to Joan. Something bad happened, but I don’t know all the details, and Great-gran said their father had forbidden them ever to speak of Joan again.’
‘Why? Was there some scandal or something?’
‘Yes—Joan got pregnant, by Jack when she was still a teenager, and had to give the baby up for adoption. But I think something else happened as well.’
‘Don’t you know? Haven’t you asked your Great-gran?’
Kelly finished the remains of her tea as she considered the question. She did need to ask Great-gran more about what happened; she knew it. But when would she be able to, with Great-gran ill in hospital?
‘No, and right now I can’t. She’s not well.’ She quickly told Matt what had happened earlier that day. Was it only that afternoon that Great-gran had collapsed when she saw Ryan’s hanging skeleton? It seemed like ages ago.
‘Oh, babe. That’s, well, horrible. What do you think caused her to fall?’
‘She didn’t fall. It was more of a collapse. She took one look at Ryan’s Halloween decorations and it freaked her out.’ She shook her head. It was so weird. ‘The thing is, Matt, it freaked me out a bit as well. I mean, when I saw it I felt as though I could hear Joan screaming in my head. Really screaming. If I’d been old and frail like Great-gran I reckon I might have collapsed as well. And now she’s in hospital.’ She didn’t want to tell him yet that she’d come straight from there, leaving her parents. He would lecture her about that; she knew it. Right now, he was staring at her, quizzically.
‘Your parents know you’re here, right?’
‘No. Not exactly.’
‘It’s, uh,’ he looked at the mantelpiece clock, ‘getting on for nine p.m. Do you still have that eleven o’clock curfew? I guess I can lend you the taxi fare home, when you’re ready.’
Kelly leaned back in the sofa, kicked off her shoes and curled her legs up underneath her. ‘I don’t want to go home, Matt. Can’t I stay here? Like, in your mum’s spare room or something?’
‘Well, I guess so… You’ll have to phone your mum and tell her, though. She’ll worry.’
‘She’ll come and get me and make me go home.’ Kelly stuck her chin out, defiantly.
‘She might…’
‘And I’m not going back there. I can’t, Matt! Haven’t you been listening to me? That house freaks me out. It’s spooky. Filled with Joan’s presence, or ghost, or whatever you want to call it. I can feel her there the whole time. She’s influencing me—making me do stuff, wear stuff I don’t really like, listen to that retro Amelia Fay music I’m not really into. What if she gets stronger, and takes over completely? It scares me. I hate it. It’s horrible, Matt. I can’t go back there!’ She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. He had to understand. There was nowhere else she could go, no one else she could talk to.
‘Shh, babe, it’s all right. I’m here.’ Kelly felt him sit beside her on the sofa, and then his strong arms were wrapped around her. How she’d missed him! She nestled against his shoulder, his familiar aftershave making her feel at home. He kissed the top of her head. She wondered whether to lift her face, kiss him back, or might he pull away? Was she misconstruing his actions? Perhaps he was only offering sympathy, but more and more she realised she wanted him back, as her boyfriend.
But there was still more of the story to tell. She took a deep breath, then sat upright again, putting space between her and Matt.
‘I haven’t told you it all, yet.’
‘Go on,’ he said, his eyes deep with worry.
She told him how she’d gone to the hospital with Mum and Great-gran. How they’d sat and waited while Great-gran was checked over. He sat listening in silence, and when she got to the part about how she’d just left in a taxi without telling her parents he groaned and held his head in his hands.
‘Kells, you shouldn’t have left. Not just like that. They’ll be worried sick, and they’ve got your poor great-gran to worry about as well. You’ll have to go back home tonight.’
She stood up angrily. ‘I knew when I told you this part you’d get cross. I suppose you think I’m mad, going on about Joan in my head. Mum won’t even listen to me when I try to tell her about it. But I just need to be away from that frigging house and all the memories floating around in it. I reckon if I never went back there, I’d be OK.’
‘You can’t stay here,’ Matt began.
‘Not for ever, no. Obviously. But just for a night or two, can’t I? Your parents are away; they don’t even need to know. I’ll wash the sheets tomorrow.’
‘Then what?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll think of something.’ She paced up and down the room.
Matt sighed, got to his feet and stood in front of her. ‘Come here, babe. I’m sorry. I do believe you, I think. It’s weird, but if you say that’s what’s happening then I’ll buy it. You’ve never lied to me.’ He wrapped his arms around her. She felt safe in his arms. She buried her face against his shoulder, and hooked her thumbs in his belt loops.
‘I’m scared if I go back there, Joan might take me over completely. Or I’ll go completely mad or something.’
‘Shh, babe. You don’t need to go back. But I do think you need to call your mum and tell her you’re safe.’
She shook her head. ‘No. She’d come and get me.’
‘But if you don’t, she’ll be frantic. It’s bad enough already, as you never went back with the cups of tea. The longer it goes on the more frantic she’ll become. Don’t do that to her.’
‘I’ll call her tomorrow.’
He pushed her away from him, and held her by the shoulders. ‘No, Kelly. If you want to stay here tonight, you call her now. You don’t need to say where you are, just tell her you’re OK, and that you’ll phone her again in the morning. It’s not fair on her or your dad otherwise. It’s not their fault.’
He was right, and she knew it. He’d always been the sensible one, the one who thought through consequences in detail. The one who knew what others would be thinking. She’d mocked him in the past, for being too straight, too grown-up, when after all, they were only seventeen. But she didn’t want to cause her mum pain. She’d been worried enough by Great-gran’s collapse. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll do it. But I don’t have my phone on me and if I use your house phone she’ll know where I am.’
‘Use my mobile. She doesn’t have my number—I changed it last week when I switched contracts.’ He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Then,
after
you’ve talked to her, I’ll dig out a pair of jeans and a hoodie, so you can dress like Kelly rather than Joan.’
She grinned, took the mobile and tapped in her mother’s number.
June 1944
As the landing craft drew near to the beach Jack scanned left and right. He was nervous, of course he was, but relieved that at least he hadn’t been part of the first wave. What must it have been like, three days earlier, on D-Day itself? The beach they were landing on was secured, the debris of battle still scarring it, but thankfully the fallen soldiers’ bodies had been removed and hastily buried. He could feel Mikey shaking beside him.
‘It’ll be all right, kid,’ he said. ‘We’ll get through this, you’ll see.’ Mikey grinned nervously at him, but carried on shaking. He was just seventeen, but had lied about his age so he could join up early. Too young for this, Jack thought, forgetting for a moment that he was himself only eighteen. He slipped his hand inside his pocket and felt the now-grubby handkerchief containing a lock of Joan’s hair. It was his lucky talisman. He’d kept it with him always, whenever he was away from her.
Closer in now, they could see the remnants of barbed-wire defences along the tops of the dunes. There were deep craters in the beach where shells had exploded above the high water line. Burst boxes of supplies and ammunition, broken armoured vehicles that had been hit, a landing craft nose down, filled with water. Anti-tank defences were still in evidence, some knocked out of line but still there, jagged shards of metal thrusting out of the sand like arms of part-buried soldiers, reaching skywards for help. Jack shook his head, banishing the image from his mind.
Ahead, the first few landing craft of their wave had reached the shore, and soldiers were splashing through the water and regrouping on the beach. Jack squeezed Mikey’s shoulder. ‘Almost there, kid. You ready?’
‘As I’ll ever be,’ Mikey replied, his eyes fixed on the dunes ahead.
And then the landing craft grounded, the ramps were lowered, and Jack and Mikey along with the rest of their squad disgorged into the shallows. The water was cold and murky, the sand beneath his feet shifting and unstable. Mikey, beside him, lost his footing and fell, floundering in the surf. Jack caught his arm and hauled him to his feet. Thank God they weren’t under fire. What must it have been like, for the first few to land? How many even made it to the beach? He shuddered. Some things did not bear thinking about.