Breach of Faith (25 page)

I frowned, “what’s that got to do with me?”

“Before I awoke, I had a dream, a vision. I remember it distinctly, even after all this time. It was about you and you looked just like you do now. It was perfect in every detail, even down to that little kink in your hair.” His fingers rose towards my head, stopping just shy of touching my hair, before dropping back to his lap. “In this dream you were in a park and I knew you were waiting for me. It was funny, I just wanted to turn and run away but you drew me in, even before you knew I was there.” Suddenly, he laughed, “I remember now, you were feeding the ducks.”

My eyes opened wide in shock. This dream was sounding remarkably familiar. “Then what?” I croaked.

“I told you I loved you and you asked me what would happen next.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “What … what did you say?” I whispered.

Looking directly into my eyes, Angus reached out and put his hand gently on top of mine. “I told you that it’s all up to you, Kate. It’s your dream after all.”

*

I couldn’t remember standing up, although in some distant corner of my mind I realised I’d shot out of my seat like my knickers were on fire. I did remember the strangled shriek as I stared at Angus in horror, my legs trembling uncontrollably. “That was my dream,” I croaked. “Mine.”

“Are you all right, love?”

The elderly voice cut through my shock, and I swung around pointing vaguely in the direction of the seat where Angus was sitting, a small smile on his face.

“Over there … he … I,” I spluttered.

“There, there, love,” the old man patted my arm, looking at me the way a doting grandparent might look at a young child. “These places get me a bit like that, too. Don’t you worry yourself, now, ain’t no such thing as ghosts.”

“There. Seat.” I demanded.

Bemused apprehension crossed the man’s face, the deep lines creasing as he took a small step away from me. Suddenly, like a ray of sunlight shooting through a gap in the clouds, his face cleared. “Spider!” he exclaimed joyfully.

Startled, I gave another small scream and turned to look at the bench. Angus had crossed his arms over his chest, a huge grin splitting his face as the elderly man stepped gingerly over to the seat. “’Tis all right, love, I’ll get rid of the little bugger for you.” Leaning forwards, the man peered short-sightedly directly into Angus’s crotch. “Should ha’ brought me glasses,” he mumbled.

I took a small step towards the bench, my eyes never leaving Angus who was still seated and as I stared in horror, he walked his fingers quickly up the man’s arm; just like a spider, I supposed.

Without a flinch the elderly man straightened up, pressing firmly on the small of his back. “It must ha’ gone, love,” he announced.

“Oh no,” grinned Angus, “I’m still here.”

I glared at Angus and frowned. “Well, thanks for trying,” I replied brightly, thrusting my cold, shaking hands deep into my coat pockets.

Angus stood up, his face close to the old man’s cheek and smiled sweetly. “BOO!”

I screamed, a breathless whistle of a sound as the elderly man pulled his jacket tightly around his shoulders.

“Getting a bit chilly, love, might be time to chuff off home.” He looked at me as if he was studying an interesting scientific specimen, then took a step away; just in case my problems were catching, I suppose.

Smiling just a little too brightly, I nodded eagerly. “Yes, of course. I’m sure the spider is miles away by now, doing all those things that spiders just love to do.”

The old man wandered off, throwing one or two confused glances over his shoulder at me. I waved merrily, “have a lovely day.”

Angus snorted in amusement.

Whirling back to face him, I scowled. “You be quiet,” I snapped, “and sit down. You’d better save your energy because you still have a lot of talking to do and you can start by telling me how the bloody hell we had the same dream.”

13 January

We were both seated back on the bench, me keeping a wary eye out for any other intruders, Angus grinning from ear to ear. Finally, I turned back to him and scowled. “You can take that stupid look off your face.”

Angus immediately put on a seriously apologetic face but the twinkle in his eye gave him away and before long he was grinning once more. “I’m sorry, Kate, but you have to agree that was funny.”

“I’ll agree to no such thing,” I steamed, but amusement was already turning up the corner of my mouth and I snorted. “That poor old bloke had no idea.”

Glancing towards his crotch, Angus grimaced wryly. “He’s the first person to get that close to my privates in months.”

Quickly sobering up, I looked sadly at my old friend. “Well, unless you orchestrated that whole situation just to fool me, I guess I’ll have to believe you, however bizarre this all seems.”

Angus gave me a half smile. “Kate, if this was a prank, I sure as hell wouldn’t have chosen some old codger to stick his nose down there. Not when there are any number of gorgeous women –”

“Okay, point taken.” I gave him the other half of his smile then brought the meeting formally to order. “What now? You said you’re here so you can help me. What with?”

Angus looked at me blankly, “well, that’s what I don’t understand. You see, when I had the dream about you, everything changed. It wasn’t all confusing anymore and instinctively, I knew you were why I was still here. I just assumed it was to help you.”

“Well, I’ve told you everything that’s going on with me at the moment,” I grimaced, “it may not be pretty but there’s not really anything you can do to help. Unless you can turn back time?”

Angus chuckled and shook his head. “If I could turn back time, I sure as hell wouldn’t be doing it for you, I. I think I’d have a go at saving my own life first.”

This was bizarre, sitting in a graveyard of all places, talking to an old boyfriend who just happened to be buried just a few metres away. God only knows what the average bystander would think, seeing me perched on this seat, casually talking to myself.

“How come I can see you? Obviously that man couldn’t, otherwise he wouldn’t have thought you were a spider. And then there was Frank. When I was in hospital and you came to see me, you left just before Frank came back but he reckoned he hadn’t seen anyone leave. Why am I the only one?”

“You’re not the only one. What people see depends on their beliefs.”

“What do you mean?”

Angus sighed, “okay, here’s the sciency bit. You can see me because I’m using small amounts of your energy to appear. You may’ve noticed yourself getting tired soon after we’ve parted company in the last few weeks?”

I nodded, “but what about everyone else?”

“Like I said, it’s all a measure of their belief. People fall into one of three categories; those who believe implicitly, those who don’t believe at all, and those who are somewhere in between.”

I frowned, “believe in what?”

“Life after death. And ghosts.” He looked directly into my eyes, “you believe in ghosts. You also believe in reincarnation as well?”

After a short pause I nodded slowly. “I can’t believe that the … spirit, that thing that makes a person who they are, just disappears after they die. What is it that they say in science, energy can’t be created or lost, only converted to a different form? So how can the energy that makes a person who they are just vanish?”

Angus nodded, “and your friend? Frank? He doesn’t believe.”

I shrugged, “I don’t know, we’ve never talked about that. Why?”

“Spirits are the most visible to people who believe implicitly, appearing as distinct forms. Believers also see the spirit in the form that it had when it was alive.”

“Okay, so what do non-believers see? Nothing?”

“That’s right. Like that old man,” Angus grinned, “and your friend. Nothing.”

I frowned,  rubbing my hand hard across my face and shook my head in exasperation. “But what about those times I spoke to you, hugged you? Don’t tell me half the population now think I’m crazy?”

Angus chuckled, “don’t panic. The percentage of people who have a totally closed mind is very small. Most people do believe in something, even if they won’t admit it.”

“So what do they see, these partial believers?”

“I like your terminology; partial believers. Well, like I said, what they see is dependant upon how much they believe.”

“So the ones who believe the most, see the most.”

“Exactly. Mild partial believers might just see a hazy indistinct shape, a bit like you get when you see something at the edge of your peripheral vision but by the time you turn your head it’s gone. They generally convince themselves that the shape they saw was just what they expected to see. So, if they saw you talking to me, they wouldn’t think you were talking to yourself but they wouldn’t really see me very clearly.

“People with a stronger belief tend to see much more distinct shapes and forms but they often don’t see the spirit in the form it held when it was alive. Again, they see what they expect or want to see so, when you hug me, some people would see you with a man, some with a woman. Some people may have even seen you embrace a large dog.”

“So, what you’re saying is that, as a believer, not all I see is necessarily there? I could be seeing spirits everywhere?”

“In theory, but most spirits only appear at certain times. Like I said, they need to use energy from a living person to manifest.”

I put my head in my hands, “it’s all so confusing.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Angus groaned. “Meanwhile, I still have to work out why I’m stuck here and that brings me back to you.”

I rubbed my belly thoughtfully. “I agree there’s a connection between us, how else explain that dream we shared. I was on the plane at the time, coming over here. But like I said, I can’t think why you’d be here to help me. Anyway, I’m going back to Australia soon.” I giggled, “hey, maybe I’m here to help you.”

Angus frowned, “help
me
? How?”

Excitedly I stood up, “do you have a message for someone? Maybe you hid the family jewels under the floorboards or a safety deposit box somewhere that no-one knows about? There must be something.”

Angus was shaking his head, his face strangely blank. Suddenly, he pushed himself off the bench and grasped my hand.

“Angus?” I shivered, still amazed at the solid feel of him.

“My daughter,” he whispered, “Oh, Kate, my daughter probably doesn’t even know I’m dead. You’ve got to find her, you’ve got to tell her.”

Chapter forty two

1 February

I sipped my coffee, wincing as it burnt my tongue. I glanced at the woman opposite and smiled. “Close your mouth, you look like a fish.”

Martha stuck her tongue out at me instead. “Come on, you can’t keep me in suspense. What happened next?”

“Well, Angus explained to me just how he could be dead for three months without his daughter being aware of it.”

Martha groaned, “I honestly can’t tell whether you’re pulling my leg or not. What did he say?”

I grinned. “While Angus was at university he got in with a bad crowd. Apparently they were heavily into drugs and Angus got involved too. He also fell for one of the girls in the group, Heather.”

“Got her pregnant, did he?”

I nodded and gulped more coffee. “That’s what finally brought him to his senses. He didn’t like the idea of bringing a child into that sort of life. So he gave up the drugs, went back to college, got a job.”

“And what happened to Heather and his daughter?”

“Disappeared. Apparently she decided she didn’t want Angus anymore and ran off with someone else.”

Martha gasped, “poor Angus. What did he do?”

“Tried to find her but there was no chance.” I paused, my mind taking me back to that cold winter’s day in the graveyard. Angus’s face could have told the rest of the story without need of words.

“So has he never seen his child?”

I dragged myself back to the present, “not in the flesh, no. Thankfully, Heather had some compassion and kept him updated with letters and the occasional photo but never told him where she was living.”

“That’s so sad. What’s his daughter’s name?”

“Charlotte. She’s thirteen now. Heather moves around a lot, Angus tried to find them from the postmark on the letters but by the time he managed to track them down they’d disappeared again. The last letter came a few months before he died.”

“What did you do?”

I sighed, “I told his family.”

“His family? They didn’t know?” Martha was shocked.

I shook my head once more, “he never told them. That time in his life was something he wanted to forget, something he knew his family didn’t want to be reminded of.”

“Surely they would have wanted to know he had a daughter?”

I shrugged, “probably, but it wasn’t as if he could take her to meet them, could he? Anyway, he wanted me to tell them, so I did. They said they’d find her, get to know her, tell her all about her father; that was what he really wanted.” I paused, “I thought it was going to be really difficult telling his mum and dad they had a granddaughter they’d never met. I sort of expected them to be really upset, maybe even hate him for keeping it from them, but I actually think it helped them come to terms with his death a bit more.”