DEAD GOOD (19 page)

‘- says that it would be unusual if it was. She certainly seems to know what she’s talking about. Anyway I told her she’s right – it’s happened a lot already since we died. It’s like watching re-runs of the worst TV drama in the world – and it’s dead boring.’

‘So,’ I turn back to the mirror. ‘How does it work then, this re-enactment thing? I mean do you have to go through exactly the same movements that you did on the actual night or are you, like conscious and can you do different things… like… I don’t know – maybe just sit it out and wait for everything...’

‘We don’t seem to have any choice in the matter,’ he runs a sad hand through his hair and holds in at the top of his head. ‘I’ve tried everything. I even tried staying in the shed once, I don’t know how long for because… you know… our timeline thing… but the next thing I knew I was lying flat out on our bedroom floor again, so it’s definitely something out of our control. I just don’t know the answer…’

I like the way he said “our bedroom” and it makes my tummy fizz. I hope he didn’t hear me think that. I try and think of choking to death on smoke to cover it up.

He’s pacing now – well, only about three paces because this bathroom’s so bloody poky, but pacing and rubbing his forehead in a very frustrated manner.

‘We were locked in that night,’ he frowns, ‘locked inside this burning “shit-hole” as you call it.’ I swallow in a kind of apology. ‘Trapped like animals,’ he says. ‘With no way of getting out…it’s like a torture… sometimes I think I remember where the key is but by the time I’ve woken up and worked out what the hell’s happening and then realised that there’s flames just absolutely everywhere downstairs and that Nonna is very probably already dead in the living room… ha! Living Room-’

I want to remind him that it was me who reported on the irony of this room name, but he’s in full flow and I don’t want to interrupt in case it makes him angrier.

‘The key…’ I say slowly, an encouraging light bulb moment flickering inside my head.. ‘The Key…’

‘Yeah, the key?’ Leo repeats, his eyebrows dancing sexily.

I make my own eyebrows do the same and smile stupidly when he stops and frowns instead. ‘That’s what Mad…I mean Mrs Hale was saying, wasn’t she?’ I explain, ‘about there being a key as to why you’re still here…?’

‘Yeah but I think she was talking more about a reason, not a real key… I think she meant that there must be a connection – like you perhaps being my Living Guide or something – or maybe even Amber…?’ Now he’s laughing.

‘No… no… listen!’ I’m all excited now and I’m on my feet and pacing (about three paces but it’s helping me think better) ‘I really think that the key IS the key, do you see? You have to open the front door to escape and make your way - away from here and onto somewhere else. Maybe this is what you need to do?’

‘Hmmm…’ Leo’s eyes are darkening with deep thought and it’s kind of nice to be taken seriously for a change rather than for him to be batting back an insult at how stupid he thinks I am. ‘You actually might be onto something…. do you think that’s what we should be concentrating on then?

Leo looks agitated and bangs the bath again. Once more a dull thud resonates through the room. Something is happening inside my head. This simple action is joining a meeting with some of the other occasions he’s been able to touch things, move things… make noises… the knock on my bedroom door… jumping in the puddle… banging on this bath…

His face turns to me slowly. Like he knows I’m thinking of something. Well, I mean, he can hear what I’m thinking anyway. I keep my head bowed. I’ve got to try and follow this train of thought through. It feels like I might be onto something…

‘Who’s opening all those drawers and going all crazy in the kitchen during these re-enactments?’ I ask uncertainly.

‘I think that must be Nonno. He’s downstairs too, he was in the kitchen. I think he must have gone to the doors and realised they were locked and panicked because he didn’t know where we kept the keys…’

‘That’s why the taps turn on then,’ I say. ‘I guess he wanted to try and put the flames out… shit, shit, shit…. I need to think… I thought I had something then…something to do with finding the key and the noise you made on the bath… oh god, where was I going with that thought…’

‘You had something,’ he says. ‘I felt it. You were onto something. You were very nearly there… keep thinking… keep thinking along the same lines… go on…keep thinking… you can do it.’

I try and get back to the place where I was a few seconds ago. The knock on my bedroom door, Nonno looking for the key, the puddle, this banging on the bath.

‘So… if you want it hard enough and do it spontaneously enough… remember, that’s what Mrs Hale said? You can make contact with living things…solid things – stuff that’s in this world- the now – not yours …’

‘Y-e-a-h,’ he says slowly, trying to work out how this will help. ‘So…?’

‘So how about we see exactly how much you really can do - yeah?’ I lift my eyes optimistically and know that, okay, it might not be anything – but at least it’s something and who knows what’s possible until we try it, right?

Now there’s a flicker of hope in his eyes.

twenty-five

‘I think it sounds like a plan,’ Dad says almost soberly after I’ve told him what Leo and I have been discussing. ‘Although I’m not sure I like the idea of you spending half an hour upstairs with a boy we’ve never even met; I don’t think it’s…’

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, Phillip, it’s not as if they’re going to get up to anything is it!’ Mum laughs nervously back, her eyes flitting from Dad’s to mine. ‘I mean it’s not as if the lad’s in a position to take advantage of Maddie, now is he?’ she nods, satisfied at me and I raise my eyebrows gratefully back. Oh-kay then. Not awkward. Not awkward at all. I daredn’t even look at Leo…. He can probably feel how hot my face is from where he’s standing and hear how embarrassed I feel right now anyway.

I hear a ghostly snort and my pent-up mortification releases slightly. Thank god he’s got a sense of humour. Thank god it didn’t die with him.

‘It’s certainly an idea - and not entirely beyond the realms of possibility,’ Mrs Hale cuts in. ‘And as I said before, if Leo really, really wants to do something, he has to do it wholeheartedly and with every fibre of his spirit – if he wants to make something move or connect with a living thing. It’s definitely worth a try, whilst we try to find a way of communicating with Leo’s parents – try to ascertain why they’re all still here,’ she pulls her sleeve back and looks at her watch and then at Mum. ‘I’m sorry, I really have to get going. I have a reading at six.’

Mum hugs her. I’m a bit surprised at this, bearing in mind it feels like we’ve only just met Mrs Hale – but then I guess Mum’s just so relieved that we have someone on side we can tell all this to; somebody who can maybe help us as well – this has given them a bond I suppose. I’m grateful too. I guess we all should be. I don’t feel quite so adrift as I did yesterday. I’m beginning to feel a bit more normal, if that’s a normal thing to be thinking.

About ten minutes after she’s left, I am surprised to be speaking to Mrs Hale again – this time on the telephone.

‘She wants to speak to you,’ I tell Mum as I hand her the receiver.

Dad, Davey and I (and Leo, of course) watch Mum as she sits at the kitchen table, turning her “Greatest Mum in the World” mug around on it’s coaster. She nods, does a few “hmm”s and agrees with whatever it is Mrs Hale is telling her – then she lifts her eyes to her audience (us), puts her mug down and flaps an urgent hand around, making swirly “I need a pen” movements with it. Immediately Dad leaps towards the nearest pen and hands it to his frantic wife. Mum takes it, rolls her eyes and whispers loudly “paper?” at which Dad does an embarrassed head-bob and passes her the newspaper he’s been scouring all day. We watch as Mum scribbles and nods, thanks and eventually puts down the phone.

‘Yes - the Restaurant – Leo’s Uncles Restaurant. Restaurant Gardella – Penny’s just walked past it and there’s a notice up in the window saying they need someone to help with the accounts.’

‘Yeah…’ I say, ‘but don’t you think it’s a bit of a co-incidence that your Uncle needs someone to help him and Dad can do Accounts blindfolded with his hands behind his back, and we were only … a few minutes ago even … working out a way to get a bit closer to your family – and then Penny … I mean Mrs Hale… I mean Penny, just happens to notice a sign saying they… well… it all sounds a bit too good to be true if you ask me.’

There are three pairs of eyes on me now. Davey has found a lump of goo on the floor and is trying to get his slipper to stick to it, so he’s not particularly interested in listening to my apprehensions.

Dad is the first to speak. ‘You’re right. It’s probably been up there ages and the job’s gone now anyway. It’s a massive co-incidence, and Maddie’s right, what would be the chances, eh? Never mind. Let’s move on.’

‘Phillip?’ Mum’s lost her happy face now and she’s scowling at her downbeat husband. ‘This could also be a sign.’

‘A sign?’ I nearly laugh. ‘Since when have you ever believed in signs and shi… stuff?’ I bluster.

‘Okay then - since when did we ever live in a house that comes to life with a family of dead people and have mediums round for a cup of tea?’ Mum bats back.

Dad sighs and scratches his head.

‘Fair point,’ he says, and Leo nods his wholehearted agreement.

As Dad pulls the scribbled paper over towards him and takes the phone from Mum, I realise I can’t watch. It’d be like waking up on Christmas morning and finding out that the prettiest, sparkliest, biggest present is actually just an empty box full of nothing. If Mum’s happy to build up Dad’s expectations before he plummets back to the depths of hundred year old alcohol, then that’s her business. I flick a look over at Leo, hope that he can hear my miserable thoughts and head back upstairs to my room. I don’t want to have to see the look of disappointment on his face when he realises the sign is ancient and it’s not a proper “sign” like Mum seems to want to believe it could be. I’ve seen Dad depressed enough lately without having to witness another downward spiral.