Tamsyn Murray-My So-Called Haunting (6 page)

‘Who was that?’ I demanded of Ellie.

Peering after him, she didn’t reply. Megan did, though. I hadn’t even noticed her arrive.

‘Nico Albescu, from the other half of Year Ten,’ she said breathlessly, her eyes glittering with interest. ‘Man of mystery and officially the Fittest Boy Ever.’

So how come she hadn’t mentioned him before? I’d heard plenty about Charlie Henderson, who Megan had admired from afar since Year Eight, but nothing about a solid gold hottie in our
midst. ‘Albescu?’ I echoed, frowning. ‘What kind of surname is that – Polish?’

Megan’s forehead creased as she stared after him. ‘Romanian, but I think he’s lived in this country most of his life, because his English is so good. He started here in
September and keeps himself to himself. Disappears every now and then, which is why you haven’t seen him before. Single, as far as we know.’

Ellie turned round and studied me through narrowed eyes. ‘He seems to know you, though. How? You’ve only been here five minutes and he doesn’t bother with just
anyone.’

I shrugged. ‘I’ve bumped into him a few times, that’s all.’

She looked like she didn’t believe a word of it. ‘Don’t get any ideas about him. He’s mine.’

‘Has anyone told him that?’ I said, before my survival instinct cut in.

Ellie’s pretty face darkened with jealousy as she stepped towards me. ‘You’re new, so I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that, but I mean it when I say keep away
from him. This isn’t
High School Musical
and Little Miss Geeky does not steal the show. Get it?’

In other circumstances I might have risen to the challenge, but I couldn’t get involved with Nico Albescu. So what if he went right up to eleven on the gorgeousness scale and had swooped
in like Prince Charming’s sexier younger brother? Even if I did owe him for keeping quiet about the incident in the hallway it didn’t mean we were going to be mates. Or anything else,
no matter how much he turned my brain to jelly and made my stomach flip whenever I saw him. Because the simple truth was that I’d never trusted anyone with my secret, not even my closest
friends back in Scotland. How did you begin a conversation like that? Maybe one day I’d meet someone I could confide in, but they’d have to be pretty special or I’d be checking in
at Heartbreak Hotel before I knew it.

Mr Exton turned up and huffed his way to the front of the line to open the classroom. I couldn’t explain the real reason I couldn’t be interested in Nico to Ellie, but if I wanted to
save myself some unnecessary grief I’d have to show her I wasn’t a threat. As I sank into my seat I could practically hear her sharpening her claws.

While Mr Exton called the register from his laptop, I peered down at my timetable. Ellie and I hardly shared any of the same classes but we did have PE together that afternoon. Maybe I’d
get a chance to talk to her then, preferably before she decapitated me with a hockey stick.

Megan twisted in her seat and leaned towards me. ‘Don’t worry about Ellie. She’s fancied Nico since he arrived, but he doesn’t even know she exists.’ She pushed her
Calvin Klein glasses back up her nose and grinned. ‘Which is why she got so bothered when he spoke to you. How do you know him?’

‘I don’t really,’ I murmured back. ‘He sorted out a few Year Eleven boys who were having a go yesterday, but that’s about it.’

It wasn’t exactly the whole truth, but it was enough for Megan. Her eyes widened. ‘He rescued you?’ she squeaked. ‘How romantic!’

Mr Exton looked up in irritation and Megan spun round to face the front. I stared at her mass of chestnut curls and thought about what she’d said. Now that she mentioned it, I supposed it
did sound kind of romantic, but the reality had been anything but; my bruised ribcage was proof of that. And although Nico had appeared out of nowhere to save me, he’d hardly stuck around
afterwards to sweep me off my feet. No, I decided, romance had definitely not featured highly.

The second Mr Exton’s attention was back on the laptop, Megan twisted round again, her eyes gleaming with excitement. ‘Did you exchange longing glances? Ellie is going to go nuts
when she finds out!’

Longing glances?
Where was this girl from – Mills and Boonsville? ‘No, we didn’t, and I’d rather Ellie didn’t find out about it.’ Her face lit up and I
knew I’d said the wrong thing. ‘Not that there’s anything to find out about. Nico appeared, Peterson and his gang left and we all went our separate ways. End of story.’

Well, almost end of story, I thought as I crossed my fingers under the table.

‘
Except
that he came to find you this morning.’

I sighed. ‘No, he happened to walk past me in the corridor.’

Megan shook her head from side to side like a wet dog. ‘He didn’t. The other Year Ten classes are over on the opposite side of the building so he had no reason to be here.’ She
paused meaningfully. ‘Other than searching for you, that is.’

Mr Exton’s head rose sharply and his expression was one of extreme annoyance. ‘Do you girls want to share your conversation with the rest of the class, since it clearly can’t
wait until breaktime?’

Eek, absolutely not. Megan faced the front and we both chorused, ‘No, sir.’

We sat in silence until the bell rang for first lesson. As we left the room, Megan mouthed, ‘Lunchtime!’ at me. I nodded and headed off to double science. Next time I saw her I was
going to have to set her straight. There was nothing happening between Nico and me. It was a non-story.

My relationship with my mum is what you might call complicated. Don’t get me wrong, I love her dearly and I know she feels the same way about me, but I always felt things
changed once she knew I was psychic. It’s like I was in a gang she could never join, and that somehow made her feel differently towards me. On the outside she was still the same loving mother
she’d always been, kissing my knees better when I fell over and putting on funny voices to read my bedtime stories, but I’d occasionally catch her watching me as though she didn’t
really know me at all. When she’d been offered the chance to study in Australia, I knew that a tiny part of her wanted a chance at normality, and that had hurt. She was still my mother,
whatever our problems were, and my only living parent. But although I hadn’t wanted her to go, it was an opportunity of a lifetime and I couldn’t stand in her way. In spite of our
differences, I still missed her every day. We spoke on the phone loads, but even a webcam wasn’t enough to bridge the distance sometimes.

Celestine was doing her best to make it up to me. Since I’d moved in with her, we’d grown closer than ever and I knew she could read how much I missed Mum. Maybe that was why
she’d suggested my helping out at the Dearly D.

‘Fancy coming to work with me again later?’ she asked as I sat at the breakfast bar on Thursday evening, puzzling over negative fractions. ‘I’m hoping Dontay will be
back.’

I thought about it. From the way he’d freaked out last time I wasn’t at all sure he’d show up again, but if he did, I wanted to be there. I’d breezed through my homework,
and, miraculously, there’d been no more run-ins with the teachers, ghostly or otherwise. I didn’t want to jinx anything, but it felt like things were finally starting to settle down.
Maybe I could juggle my social life and psychic life after all. ‘Yeah, OK.’

‘It might be better if you don’t ask him straight out about his death. Let him tell you about it in his own time.’

I nodded as I polished off the last equation. I’d figured that much out for myself. As much as I wanted to help Dontay, I wasn’t going to make the mistake of overstepping the
boundary again. Which only left the problem of what we
were
going to talk about. Somehow, I didn’t think
Gossip Girl
was going to cut it.

I spotted him as soon as we walked in, and this time he didn’t bother with the staring match. Waiting until Celestine had discreetly melted away, he approached me, hands
stuffed in his pockets and head down.

‘Hey,’ I said when he shuffled to a stop at the front of the church. ‘How’ve you been?’

‘All right,’ he mumbled, still staring down at the red-carpeted floor. Then he looked up. ‘Apart from being dead, obviously.’

I grinned and the tension between my shoulder blades eased. ‘Yeah, apart from that.’

He flashed me an apologetic look. ‘I’m sorry I went off the other night.’

‘It’s OK. I was being nosey anyway.’

A smile tugged at his lips. ‘Maybe a bit.’

Glancing around at the rapidly filling church, I said, ‘Do you want to go somewhere to talk? They’ve got some rooms here and I don’t really want to stand outside looking like a
lunatic again.’

A wary expression crept over his face. ‘S’pose.’

‘Unless you’d rather chat to some of the other ghosts? Mrs Peacock would love to tell you about her varicose veins.’

He shuddered. ‘Nah. Let’s get out of here.’

We slipped through the vestry door and into one of the small side rooms Celestine had told me would be empty. The rooms were set up
for the psychics to meet with bereaved families and most had comfortable chairs and a low table. I flicked the light on and settled into a flowery armchair, tucking my legs underneath me. Dontay
sat on the sofa in silence, looking like he wished he was somewhere else.

I wiped my clammy palms on my jeans. ‘This is a bit strange,’ I ventured, as much to break the ice as anything. ‘Although it’s probably weirder for you than me. I mean,
I’ve been talking to ghosts my whole life but you’ve only been dead . . .’ I trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blanks.

For a second, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Then he cleared his throat. ‘Four months. It feels a lot longer, though.’

I glanced around the room, with its vase of wilting flowers on the chipped coffee table and faded yellow curtains at the window. Ancient magazines fanned out across the ring-marked surface
between us. It was like a cross between an old people’s home and a doctor’s surgery, and I couldn’t imagine a worse place to sit with someone who didn’t totally trust you.
How was he ever going to open up if neither of us was comfortable?

My gaze came to rest on the football shirt peeking out from underneath his hoodie. I didn’t recognise the colours, but the glimmer of an idea popped into my head. Celestine probably
wouldn’t approve, but I was getting nowhere fast. ‘Do you want to get out of here?’

‘Where to?’ He stood up and followed me into the hallway.

‘Back to my house. Unless you’ve got a better idea?’

Dontay shook his head and threw me a relieved grin. ‘Nah, I’m happy to go. This reminds me of my nan’s place.’

There was a strange, musty pong coming from the room. Hurriedly, I pulled the door closed. ‘Then let’s go. I think the England match is on telly tonight.’

His face lit up and I knew I’d scored. ‘What are we waiting for?’ he said eagerly. ‘It’ll be kicking off soon.’

There was a door at the end of the corridor which led out on to the street. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, but I didn’t want to risk getting caught up in the spiritualist
service and losing my chance with Dontay. Tapping out a quick text to Celestine to tell her where we’d gone, I hoped she’d understand. She’d never brought her work home and I was
pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to either, but surely getting Dontay to confide in me was the important thing. Wasn’t it?

Dontay coped with the Underground surprisingly well. He’d refused to run after me for the train, though. As the doors closed and we juddered forwards, I thought I’d
lost him. Then he’d coolly stepped off the platform and into the carriage, flashing me a knowing grin as he sussed I’d been worried.

The match had just started as we flicked on the TV. Jeremy was at work so I knew we’d have the plasma screen all to ourselves, which was just as well considering the amount of instructions
Dontay was bellowing at the players. England were already winning one-nil, but he was still throwing his arms up in despair at every missed tackle.

‘So you like football, then?’ I ventured during a momentary lull when the ball went out of play.

His eyes didn’t leave the screen. ‘Yeah, we’re a West Ham family through and through.’ He blinked and a subdued look crept across his face. ‘Or we were.’

We watched in silence for a moment. England had the ball and were pushing forwards. Mum and I had never been big on sport, but I hoped Dontay didn’t expect me to cheer England on; my
Scottish ancestors would have flocked from the astral plane to give me a piece of their minds.

‘Did you play?’

He nodded. ‘I wasn’t bad, either. I even got scouted by the West Ham Youth Academy.’

As little as I know about football, even I knew that being scouted for a team like that was a pretty big deal. Impressed, I said, ‘You must have been good to get picked up by
them.’

A wry grin tugged at his lips. ‘Nelson was better than me. I’d never tell him that, mind.’

‘Nelson?’

‘My kid brother,’ he explained. His attention flicked back to the action on screen. ‘Oi, ref! Offside, man!’

I stared at the TV, baffled. ‘What does that even mean?’

‘What is it with girls and the offside rule? It’s simple!’