Ruby's Ghost Page 5

  She liked animals and was studying science and that was all he knew about her. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he did know her from somewhere.

  “Where did you go to school?”

  She arched one eyebrow and he knew she’d already made the connection. “Greenborough High.”

  The local high school, but they hadn’t been in the same year—he was sure of that. She couldn’t be much younger than him. “When did you graduate?”

  “Year before last.”

  A couple of years behind…he looked at her again. “Eloise Jones.” Then he knew. “There were fundraisers for you, and a special service at church.”

  She gave him an awkward smile. “Yep, that’s me.”

  Memories of the assemblies and fundraising to help her family came back. She’d almost died after being hit by a car. As a teenage boy he’d soon forgotten about her, distracted by studies and Ruby.

  Guilt stabbed him again. But guilt wouldn’t bring Ruby back, and it wouldn’t help him wake up. He didn’t want to spend the rest of his life drifting around waiting for something to happen.

  “Did this ever happen to you?” He indicated his insubstantial body.

  She bit her lip and he knew the answer without her speaking it. “I don’t recall. I don’t think so.”

  Of course, and he probably wouldn’t remember either if he woke up. This would all be some kind of coma dream. Hell, maybe it wasn’t real anyway and he was imagining everything as his body fought to hold on. This was his mind’s way of coping with trauma. But when he looked at Eloise he wanted her to be real.

  His gaze shifted from her to the computer screen. “What are you doing?”

  Pink crept up her cheeks. “I was doing a quick search to find out who you are—double checking you’re not a vengeful ghost.” The corners of her lips quirked but didn’t make it into a full smile.

  “You could’ve asked.”

  “Yeah, and you’re going to tell me if you’re a serial killer in your spare time, Dexter.”

  “True.” He shrugged. But she had invited a stranger into her house and bedroom, and if he wanted her to trust him, she needed to see who he was. He didn’t know if he’d be so welcoming if the situation were reversed. If he ever saw a ghost after this, he was going to be nice to them. “If you go to Facebook it will be faster.”

  She nodded, did a couple of clicks then typed his name again. “Mechanical engineering?”

  He didn’t answer; he was reading all the posts on his page. Friends wishing him a speedy recovery, messages of support and regrets for his loss. Pictures of him and Ruby together that people had posted. No one knew they’d broken up before the accident. He felt like a fraud accepting their sympathy and yet it still hurt. Ruby smiled back at him from the screen with red lips, her blond hair perfectly styled. She looked so full of life.

  Because a couple of jerks decided to race around the block in the SUV after too many beers she was dead, and he could be following her if he didn’t wake up.

  “Shut it down.” He stepped back and then let himself drop through the floor and out of her room. His legs jarred with the impact, but it wasn’t real pain, only the memory of what it would feel like.

  That was his whole life lately. He knew what loving Ruby felt like yet all he had was the shadow that lingered afterwards. He’d lost it somehow and no matter how hard he’d tried to find it he couldn’t. It had taken months for him to realize it was gone and that no matter what he did or what she did, what they’d had couldn’t be resuscitated.

  The worst part was he didn’t know exactly what had happened or when, only that when he looked at Eloise he’d felt alive again—kind of—that rush of seeing someone, of anticipating seeing her.

  Eloise called his name. He looked up at the ceiling and briefly considered going back. But he couldn’t face her, not with pictures of Ruby gazing at him from the screen. It wasn’t right. Yet all he wanted was to feel alive, to stand in the sun and be warm. That had been missing in his life for too long.

  Eloise blinked but he’d vanished again. Just because he was a ghost didn’t give him the right to disappear whenever it suited him. Did ghosts even care about manners? She called his name once and was half tempted to go and find him again, but restrained herself. She didn’t have time to chase him around, and she knew he’d be back when he was ready to talk. There wasn’t anywhere else he could go.

  She bit her lip and glanced at the screen again. The outpouring of emotion there for everyone to see. He was well liked. And so was Ruby. She was also very pretty, in the way that looked like she spent a lot of time on how she looked.

  Feeling rather plain in comparison Eloise pulled the hair elastic out of her hair and tossed it on the desk. She was in yoga pants, a T-shirt and runners. No makeup. None of which would have bothered her since she was staying home studying, but then she hadn’t counted on having a visitor wafting around in his own grief-riddled daze.

  She’d have been freaking by now if she was bodiless and unable to wake up. How badly was he hurt? She remembered her injuries and her parents’ faces as they’d tried to explain to her how serious it was. Maybe not knowing was a blessing. At least when he woke up he’d be on the way to healing…if he woke up.

  Tate was actually handling the ghost thing quiet well. He was dealing with the death of Ruby very well too. From the looks of the comments no one else knew it was over. Had it been a sudden fight and they were going to get back together or was it really over? It probably didn’t matter now.

  She wrote down the details of the hospital he was at, even though the person had posted family only at the moment as he was in intensive care, then she closed Facebook. For a moment she sat staring at the screen. She wasn’t in the mood to study. Any other week she would have welcomed the distraction but this week she needed to focus and cram. One hour, then she would get up and have a stretch. She was the master of self-bribery.

  Fifty minutes later she was halfway through an old exam paper and was feeling pretty happy with her achievements. It was much easier to try and answer the questions than to study endless notes. Maybe she could pull this off after all. And tomorrow she’d be convinced she’d fail because she wasn’t doing enough studying. She had to pass; she couldn’t afford to lose the car, and most of all she didn’t want to let her parents down. They’d wanted her to go straight to college, but she’d convinced them a year off was beneficial; however they might have been right. In the year away, she’d gotten out of the study habit, and it had taken her months to get back into it.

  Sitting here for eight hours straight wasn’t going to help. It was coffee time. She rubbed her hands together—and maybe turn-on-the-heater time. The temperature was really starting to drop. Who knew a ghost could really cool the place down so fast? Not that she’d seen Tate since he’d dropped out of her room. Maybe he was hanging out in the lounge room or the kitchen. Anywhere was healthier than lingering at the accident scene and dwelling over Ruby. A shiver ran down her spine, but she brushed off the warning.

  The house was cold and echoed around her as she jogged down the stairs, determined to get some circulation happening. In the kitchen she put on the kettle. Her breath clouded in front of her. Was it really that cold in here? She zipped up her hoodie and held her hands out to the stainless steel kettle to warm them up a little. A shadow moved behind her.

  Eloise spun, expecting to see Tate, but there was no one there. The bubbling of the water in the kettle quickened to match her racing heart. Then the kettle clicked off and there was silence. Absolute quiet. The hair along her arms and up the back of her neck prickled.

  “Hello?” Her voice quavered. She swallowed and waited.

  Nothing.

  She shook her head. One ghost and she was weirding herself out. But as she picked up the kettle she saw the shadow move in its surface again. This time she didn’t turn, she tried to ignore whatever it was, whoever it was. It certainly wasn’t Tate. It was one thing to see his spirit but another t
o have ghosts around that couldn’t really be seen, only sensed. Maybe it was nothing, just a dirty smudge. Except dirty smudges shouldn’t move over the surface and they certainly didn’t give off an air of infuriation.

  She could swear there was someone standing behind her, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, ready to demand an explanation. An explanation for what? With careful determination, she stirred the sugar into her coffee. She would not get freaked out by a shadowy smudge.

  With her cup in hand, she went outside where it was warmer. As she closed the glass sliding door the shadow was watching her. Eloise blinked and tried to pretend nothing was amiss, even though her heart was pounding loudly enough for the neighbors to hear.

  Slowly she walked to the outdoor chairs, one eye on the windows. The shadow followed. She was sure there was another ghost in her house. Had Tate dragged something from the other side with him or was she now going to see ghosts at every turn? She glanced away from the house and saw Tate, sitting on the steps at the end of the verandah.

  He was on the top step in a patch of sunlight. The light seemed to catch in whatever gave him shape so he was haloed in light, like an angel. For a moment she stood there transfixed. Then Shelby ran straight through him to crash into her leg with a playful head-butt that had been so much cuter when they hadn’t almost weighed the same.

  She gave Shelby a scratch and then sat down next to Tate. “Hey.” She tried to act like everything was okay and there was nothing odd going on in her house.

  “Hey.” He smiled but it was fragile. “Sorry about before.”

  “It’s okay.” Eloise took a sip of her coffee. The cup warmed her hands.

  “It was kind of strange reading about myself like that. About Ruby. I know this isn’t right—” he indicated his lack of body, “—but I don’t feel like I’m in intensive care clinging to life. I just feel kind of separated. Like it’s happening to someone else and there’s nothing I can do.”

  “It’s okay. Maybe it’s for the best that you’re not there.” That sounded dumb. The kind of thing that people say when they don’t know what else to say. Which was exactly the situation she was in. But what could she say to him? She wanted to believe he’d go back when his body was ready. He was probably hoping the same thing. She pulled Shelby away from Tate. It seemed rude to let the dog keep walking through him, even though he didn’t seem to mind.

  “I should be studying. I’ve got finals next week.”

  Shelby rested her head on Eloise’s leg. No doubt there’d be a drool patch when she got up—nice—but Eloise didn’t push her away. Instead her hand patted the dog’s broad black head. The dog was warm and real, unlike Tate or the shadow in the house. “I’m sure the college has a sick policy.”

  He shook his head, his blond hair hanging over his forehead as he looked at the ground. “It’s not just that. If I don’t get back, I won’t wake up. If I don’t wake up…”

  He didn’t need to say his life would be over. They both knew that.

  “We’ll work something out. I know where your body is now, so that’s a bonus.” She forced a smile.

  Tate looked at her, his lips pressed together in a thin line, obviously not believing her platitudes. “If I die, I don’t want to linger around.”

  “I understand.” It wasn’t like she had any claim on him.

  “No you don’t.” He turned to face her. “I have no control over anything that’s happening. I might live, I might die, I might never wake up and be stuck like this forever, I might wake up and have no memory of ever meeting you.” He went to put his hand on her leg but it passed through her, like a cool breeze against bare skin. “I can’t do anything.”

  He went to stand.

  “Tate, just sit with me. Slow down. When I was stuck in hospital I used it as a chance to work out what I wanted. Sure I was thirteen, but I knew I didn’t want a boring job like my dad.” She looked at Tate. “He’s an accountant. I wanted to work with animals. I’m first-year science because I took a year off to travel—that was the other thing I wanted. I wanted to see the castles in Europe. I wanted to eat pizza in Italy.”

  “You made a to-do list at thirteen?”

  “I was in bed for six months with broken legs and a broken pelvis. What else was I going to do but imagine all the things I was going to do when I could walk again?”

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face. “I hadn’t even thought about rehab.”

  “That wasn’t my point.” She took a sip of her rapidly cooling coffee. “You’re awake when you should be asleep, you have a chance to think things through so that when you do wake up you have a plan. You’re in bonus time.”

  “Bonus time?”

  “Mmm.” She nodded, warming to the idea as she tried to find a positive from all this for him. “You can do whatever you want, plan your to-do list, walk through every house between here and there. Hell, study if you really want.”

  “I can’t turn the pages on my books or even turn on a computer.”

  “I’ll help.”

  He glanced at her and smiled. His blue eyes were so bright with life she wanted to really see him smiling, not just his spirit. She ran her tongue over her lip and his gaze lowered, tracking the motion.

  “And if I wanted to kiss you?” His voice lowered, and she was sure her pulse quickened in response.

  While she wanted to say, sure, kiss me, he’d only just broken up with Ruby and he wasn’t really here. She had to remember that. He could wake up and she’d never see him again. And she did want to see him, in the flesh. “I’d say you’re rebounding.”

  “You make me remember what it’s like to be alive.” He placed his hand over his heart. “I can feel it, something more than the dull echo of pain. Maybe a kiss will make me wake up.” He moved closer.

  Her heart hammered in her chest; he must be able to hear it. It was rebound and the need to feel alive, that was all, but who was she to deny him the chance to get back to his body? And if it worked? She’d go and see him and find out if he did remember her.

  “One kiss, just to see if it will help.”

  His fingers went to brush a strand of hair off her face, but she couldn’t feel his touch, only the gentle brush of air. “Scientific research…you’ve never kissed a ghost before.”

  “Never.” What would it be like to be kissed by a ghost? She leaned forward slightly, as if he were drawing her closer.

  He traced her jaw, leaving a chill in his wake, and a shiver traced down her spine. “What do you feel?”

  She swallowed. “Not nothing, but it’s hard to describe, like a feather sweeping over my skin, or a cool breeze on a hot night. You?”

  “Warmth. When I’m near you I don’t feel so cold, the ache in my head and shoulder lessens and I feel more like me and less like something that might disintegrate in a strong wind.”

  “I won’t let you disintegrate,” she whispered. Then his lips met hers in a kiss that was so light she could have imagined the contact.

  A gust of icy air swept around the back of her neck and slapped her cheek. Eloise dropped the cup. It smashed on the concrete steps, the remains of her coffee splashing up her pants. Shelby jumped up and barked, a growl rumbling in the dog’s throat as if she could sense a threat that couldn’t be seen.

  “I’m sorry.” She started picking up bits of china. Any excuse not to look at him. What was she doing? He was dying and his recently ex-girlfriend was dead. Wrong. So very wrong. The hair on her neck prickled again, but as before she saw no one. But something was there, a cold shadow that radiated anger, and it made her stomach scrunch up and wrap around her spine.

  Shelby sniffed and licked at the spillage. She nudged the dog away with her elbow. The last thing she needed was Shelby cutting her tongue.

  “Eloise…” His hand passed through the bits of mug as he tried to help clean up.

  “It’s fine.” Eloise picked up the last few pieces. She took a couple of paces, then turned back. None of this was his fault; she w
as more annoyed with herself for being suckered in. She forced out a breath and remembered her manners. “Come inside.”

  The weather looked like it was turning, and she didn’t want him to think she was rude as well as clumsy. Surely if there was another ghost around he’d be able to see it and would have warned her? She gave herself a mental shake. There was nothing there. She was overreacting and on edge.

  “You sure you don’t mind me drifting around the house?” he said with another of his beautiful smiles that made her heart melt and take flight. Why couldn’t he be real?

  “No.” She was getting used to the idea of having him around.

  Tate followed her inside. This time he noticed the way her dark hair caught the light, the way her hips moved as she walked. While he was lying in hospital injured, possibly dying, Eloise was life. Her cheeks were pink from being outside and her eyes were bright. He wanted to reach out and taste the vitality again. When her lips had touched his, he’d felt the heat of her skin. His breath would’ve caught if ghosts could breathe, and for that second he’d been close to life. He looked up at Eloise as she went upstairs. He wanted her. She was the spark that had been missing. The rush of attraction that had been lost with Ruby.

  Guilt snaked its way around his heart. He should be thinking about Ruby… And while he was sad, he wasn’t devastated the way he should be. What kind of guy was he? He shouldn’t be thinking of someone else.

  He stopped halfway up the stairs. What should he be doing?

  Living was out, as he couldn’t get back to his body.

  Dying was off the list, as he wanted to live.