Page 8 of Painting Ghosts

“Wow. You’re not even cold. I thought you would be.” I tried again, this time trying to pull a small part of his sweater away from his body. Again I had no traction. I felt nothing.

Bob shrugged. “Some ghosts are cold, and some aren’t. There’s no set rules and regulations here. We are what we are.”

“Where’s ‘here’?”

Natalie answered. “The Etherey. It’s where we all go when we die before we move on.”

“Move onto where? Heaven?” I wasn’t a believer but some people were.

Natalie giggled, and Bob chuckled. “Nay, lad. Not as you see it in the films. It’s a place in the world where there’s a place for us to meet our loved ones again. It’s different for every one of us.”

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I almost screeched but held it back manfully. Theo stared down at me, a steaming mug held in his hand. His eyes glimmered with amusement.

“All right, there, mate, don’t pee your knickers. It’s only me.”

I took the mug from it, inhaling the aroma with pleasure. “You startled me, is all.” I sipped my coffee as Theo sat down beside me. He brushed the top of my hand with warm fingers and gave me a sweet smile. “So, have we learnt anything about why you’re all still here, yet?”

Bob shook his head. “We were getting to that. Now that I have you both here, I’ll carry on.” He shifted in his chair and motioned to Natalie to sit in the chair beside him. “Stop your fidgeting and sit down while we tell these young men our story.”

She sat down and folded her hands in her lap demurely. Her brown eyes still twinkled with delight, though, and she winked at me again.

The kid was growing on me.

“Natalie’s mum died in childbirth, so my son Eddie—-Natalie’s Dad—-and Nat moved in here with me.” Bob puffed out a smoke ring. “This house has been in my family for generations. For a while, everything was good.” His voice hitched. “Then Eddie died in ’82 in the Falklands. Nat was three years old.”

“I’m so sorry,” I said, remembering the death of my dad some years ago. I knew what grief felt like. “Wars suck, and all they bring is tragedy.”

Bob sighed. “It wasn’t a good time. I had to keep my spirits up because I had Natalie to look after.” He smiled wistfully. “Natalie found a best friend in the boy one property over. His name was Serge. He was a year older than she was. I found a friend in the owner of the house, Serge’s mother. Her name was Lucille.” He went quiet. “Then Serge got ill.”

“He had cancer,” Natalie whispered. “He tried so hard, honestly he did, but in the end, he left us.” Tears glistened in her eyes. “He was my best friend. We said one day we’d get married and live in this house.”

My throat ached with sadness. Theo reached out a hand and took mine in his, rubbing his thumb absently along the top. He was as much affected by their sad story as we were.

“Lucille was never the same after that. She left shortly after Serge passed on, and she lives now with her sister in Devon. She couldn’t bear to live in the same house he’d died in.”

“You’ve both had so much tragedy,” Theo said quietly. “I’m so sorry this all happened to you. I read about the history of Monkwood. It seems that the ’80s were a terrible time for everyone who lived here.”

“Aye, lad, it were.” Bob’s fingers tapped a silent rhythm on the table. “And that wasn’t the end of it, of course. In 1989, my beautiful granddaughter left me too.” His voice broke, and Natalie placed her small hand on his. “Such a silly thing, it was. A headache that wouldn’t go away and turned out to be meningitis that had been undiagnosed. By the time we got her into the hospital, it was too late.”

“But I came back to you then, Grandpa,” Natalie said earnestly. “I told you I would.”

Bob smiled fondly and ruffled her hair. “That you did, lovey. That you did.”

Theo looked fascinated, and I was too, but my heart ached for this family who had suffered such losses. “How did you come back, Natalie? And why didn’t anyone else, like your dad and mum?”

Natalie pursed her lips. “I made a promise to Grandpa, so I had to keep it. I fell asleep in the hospital and the next thing I knew, I was back in my bed here. Grandpa was so scared when he saw me sitting on his bed.” She squealed in delight, and Bob snorted.

“You did that, child. I nearly wet my pyjamas.”

Natalie giggled and clapped a hand over Bob’s mouth. “Don’t be silly, Grandpa. You never.”

“So Natalie came back as a spirit, a ghost, and lived here with you?” Theo’s face was a picture of wonder. “How on earth did you manage that? Can you leave the house?”

Bob looked over at his granddaughter. “It was the only way I knew how to carry on,” he said softly. “My whole family was gone and I was crazy with grief. I didn’t eat well, I couldn’t sleep, and I was miserable. Natalie and her eternal optimism kept me sane. And we can leave this place but not to go far. Serge’s house is as far as we can make it before we’re pulled back here.”

“Then one day you went to sleep like me, Grandpa, and never woke up.” Natalie’s voice was hushed. “And now we’re together, forever here, with Serge when he visits. We’re a family again.”

“Don’t you want to see your parents, Natalie?” I asked. “They must miss you terribly.”