Haunted Ever After (3 page)

YOU ARE INVITED TO SALLY’S BRIDAL BONDING WEEKEND!

Join us for a long weekend of fun, frivolity and food as we celebrate Sally’s upcoming transition into wifehood
.

When?

Friday 21
^st
June (Winter Solstice) to Monday 24
^th
June (one week before the wedding!)

Where?

Barron Springs Country Guest House, Barron Springs

Who’s invited?

Sally, of course (last one to get hitched!)

Mel (leave the kids at home please)

Georgie (our appointed bridal bodyguard — and chef)

Moi — aka, Lorena (maid of honour and organiser extraordinaire!)

What’s on the agenda?

Several exciting ‘Bridal Bonding Activities’ — you’ll have to wait and see!

RSVP ASAP (or else)!

It must have been a fluke. A one-off. I hadn’t seen Ghost Woman all week, and thank God for that, because I’d told myself if I saw her again I’d book in for an MRI and neurology assessment at the hospital. A bonus of working in one meant I had connections and could get the odd favour granted if needed. I’d decided I’d say I was suffering with constant headaches, or dizziness, or something so they’d have to do immediate testing to rule out anything sinister. But luckily it hadn’t come to that. Maybe I imagined the whole thing, somehow. Pre-wedding jitters? Pre-wedding psychosis? Women could get pre-menstrual psychosis, although rare, so why not pre-wedding? All the planning, decisions, flowers, dresses, hair, makeup, guest lists, music, calligraphy place cards, menus…it was enough to send anyone bonkers. Even an organised person like me.

Anyway, all was good with the world again. Things were back to normal. As normal as they could be when my wedding was only a week away. Lorena’s well-planned bridal bonding weekend would be a welcome escape from flitting about at home or work, obsessing over last minute wedding details. My friends were the best. And I trusted Lorena’s promise that this would be an enjoyable weekend to remember, just for the girls.

I smiled as I turned the shopping trolley into aisle eight of Barron Springs Supermarket, where we were stocking up on supplies for the weekend. But despite the promise of fun and frivolity (not that I was frivolous, that was Lorena’s domain), I couldn’t quite shake the memory of last weekend…

I’d never believed in ghosts. Not once did I consider that a person’s soul, or spirit, or whatever you wanted to call it, lived on after death. Even after seeing countless patients die on the hospital ward, and hearing distraught family members talk about their loved one now ‘being at peace’. I’d nod in sympathy of course, but I knew, or
thought
I knew, that death was the end. You die, and that’s it. That’s what I was taught, that’s what I believed. Until now. Now things weren’t so black and white.

I distracted myself with the shopping list Lorena had given me. All four of us were spread throughout the supermarket like a search party, each with a designated list of supplies to get.
Toilet paper, toilet paper
…yes, you never could rely on self-contained accommodation to have enough. Good thinking, Lorena. I took my attention off the shopping list and peered down the aisle, when a rude woman grabbed hold of my trolley and pulled it so it went faster.

‘Um, excuse me!’ I attempted to be assertive.

She turned around, her red curls swinging and bouncing around her pale face.

Oh no. No way
. ‘You again,’ I sneered.

‘Well, good afternoon to you too, Miss Friendly!’ She huffed, then sat on the edge of the trolley with perfect balance. She wasn’t as translucent as before, and could almost pass for a normal, living human.

‘Go away!’ I whispered between gritted teeth as I pushed the shopping trolley. ‘Leave me alone!’ My vision obscured, I leaned to the side of the ghost and spotted the toilet paper up ahead. Maybe if I went about my planned task and ignored her she’d leave. Stopping next to the array of white rolls, I plucked a couple of six-packs that were on a two-for-one special.

‘Why don’t you get the deluxe four-ply rolls? I thought this was supposed to be a luxurious weekend away,’ Ghost Woman said. If she kept bothering me I’d need to buy a six-pack of another kind to get through the weekend.

‘I’m not listening to you.’ I covered my ears for a moment, then pushed the trolley further down the aisle, grabbing two bottles of anti-bacterial hand sanitiser from the shelf, two boxes of tissues, and two bottles of bug spray.

The ghost crossed her arms and pouted, then disappeared and reappeared directly in front of me, making me drop the packets of paper towel I’d just picked up.

‘Geez!’ My hand flew to my chest to ease my thudding heart.

‘I’ll make you listen to me.’ She sang an out-of-tune rendition of Beyoncé’s
All the Single Ladies
, complete with a pathetic attempt at dancing.

‘Shhh!’

‘Only you can hear me, you know,’ she said between ‘Oh-oh-oh’s’.

‘Exactly, so be quiet so I don’t look like a complete nutcase!’

She sang louder, her mouth only an inch from my ear as she floated alongside me. I came to an abrupt halt and covered my ears. I grabbed one of the cans of bug spray and took off the lid, spraying the chemicals towards her.

She laughed riotously. ‘Like that’s going to get rid of me!’

I glared at the purple polka dot pyjama-wearing nuisance, when Lorena turned into the aisle carrying a basket of meat, eggs, cheese, and crackers. ‘Why are you spraying that stuff around?’ she asked, waving her long fingernailed hand about.

I popped the lid back into place and tossed the can into the trolley. ‘Um…there was a fly. A big nasty fly that wouldn’t leave me alone.’ I slid a menacing glance toward the ghost as I spoke.

‘That’s weird, flies in the middle of winter?’ Lorena looked around, coughing at the mist of insect neurotoxins in the air. ‘Well, you must have got rid of the sucker, I can’t see it.’ She glanced at my shopping trolley and furrowed her brow. ‘Sally, why have you got two of everything? We’re only staying a couple of nights at a guest house, not Noah’s Ark.’

‘I want to be prepared.’ My voice became high-pitched in defensiveness. ‘We don’t want to run out of supplies in the middle of the night or anything.’

‘Somehow I don’t think we’ll need two cans of bug spray, probably won’t even need one, hun.’

‘You never know, it’s an old house. There could be spiders. We can put one can upstairs, one downstairs.’

‘But hand sanitiser? They said soap would be provided for us at the house.’

‘Lorena, soap is not the same as sanitiser. It doesn’t kill
all
germs. If you only knew the bugs that roamed around the hospital you’d carry a bottle of hand sanitiser in your handbag at all times.’

‘Fair enough.’ Lorena shrugged, adjusting the strap of her Gucci handbag on her shoulder, a cheeky smile arching into her warm, brown cheeks. ‘We should have put you in charge of buying the treats instead of the household supplies. We certainly
could
make use of two boxes of chocolates, two tubs of ice cream, and two bottles of wine. Although not that I can drink any.’ She winked, rubbing the mound of her belly. ‘I’ll go and tell Mel to double up so we don’t run out.’

With Lorena out of sight, I turned my trolley around and pushed it back to the hand sanitisers, grabbing an extra bottle. One for each bathroom, and one for the kitchen. I nodded sharply in satisfaction.

‘You really should see a professional about your issue,’ Ghost Woman said, jumping into the trolley like a child.

‘What issue? I don’t have an issue.’

‘Your germ phobia.’

‘It’s not a phobia, I’m simply being cautious.’

The ghost nodded, as if saying, ‘Oh, yes, of course, dear.’

‘Don’t patronise me!’ I blurted a little too loud, then quickly covered my mouth and faked a cough.

‘I didn’t say anything.’ The ghost held her palms up and shrugged, feigning innocence.

‘You didn’t have to. The look on your face said it all.’ I pushed the trolley back down the aisle.

‘Look, if we’re going to be spending time together, we really should learn to get along with each other.’ She held out her hand.

‘Are you kidding? I don’t want to spend time with you, and I certainly don’t want to shake your ghostly hand!’ I gripped the trolley and pushed it faster down the aisle, hoping the speed would somehow make her fall off.

It didn’t, but still I pushed, swerving around the corner as the cart bumped over something and skidded to a halt.

‘Christ!’ A man bent down to rub his foot. ‘What do you think you’re doing, going that fast around the corner?’ He winced as he removed his shoe and a red bruise manifested across his bare foot. ‘You might have broken my toes!’

The ghost shook her finger at me like a naughty child and heat rushed up my face. ‘Oh my God. I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.’ I bent down and reached towards his foot. ‘Let me take a look, I’m a nurse.’

He pushed my hand away. ‘Don’t touch it! You’ve done enough damage for one day.’ He glared at me and put his shoe back on, hobbling away.

I stared helplessly at the man, and couldn’t help but notice his sculpted arms bulging beneath his long sleeved shirt, and the tight roundness of his —

I shook my head.
What was I thinking, drooling over the incredibly attractive man I’d injured? I’m a happily engaged woman!

‘Sally, what happened?’ Mel approached, mostly obscured by a trolley full of wine, chocolates, chips, cookies, and colourful packets of sweet indulgences, followed by Georgie who’d been in charge of the fruit and vegetables. ‘Did that guy have a go at you for some reason?’

I nodded.

‘The bastard, I’ll give him a piece of my mind,’ Georgie said, taking a long-legged step forward.

I grasped her arm. ‘No, don’t. He had every right to be angry with me. I ran over his foot with the shopping trolley.’

Mel burst out laughing, and Georgie’s blue eyes widened. ‘How did you manage that?’

‘I was pushing it a little too fast and didn’t see him when I rounded the corner.’

‘Why the rush, Sal? We’re here in Barron Springs to relax,’ Georgie said, moving her trolley aside with one hand for a customer to pass, as if it was as light as a feather.

I was trying to dislodge the ghost riding on my trolley
.

‘I guess I’m still in wedding panic mode. Besides, I can’t wait to get to the guest house and enjoy ourselves.’ I flashed a smile, and glancing around I noticed that the ghost had indeed disappeared.

‘Me neither,’ Mel said. ‘I need to make every kid-free moment count. Let’s go girls!’ She heaved her bulky load towards the check-out.

We paid for our purchases and packed the groceries into Lorena’s glossy, black four-wheel drive. As she expertly manoeuvred across the bumpy country roads, Lorena sang along to a song on the radio, and then in a singsong voice announced, ‘We’re heeere!’

She pulled into the long driveway of Barron Springs Country Guest House, a grand old building with cute gable windows protruding like eyes, light grey walls, dark grey roof tiles, and tall trees framing the property. It looked every bit the old-fashioned haunted house, especially when we neared the front porch. I gulped. There, sitting on the steps and waving with such enthusiasm I thought her hand might fall off, was Ghost Woman.

‘Is it wine o’clock yet?’ Mel asked, as she plonked her short self on the three-seater velvet couch and rested her feet on the coffee table.

Hear, hear
. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but with the guest house looking more like a ghost house I was in dire need of something to take the edge off my anxiety.

‘No, not till dinnertime,’ Georgie replied as she put away the results of our shopping expedition. ‘Cocktails will be served at six, along with hors d’oeuvres. You’ll have to use your willpower to wait till then.’ She looked like a Stepford Wife, expertly busying herself in the kitchen with a smile, her golden blonde locks tumbling over her shoulders as she bent down.

‘I left my willpower back home, it’s lost somewhere in the mix of Lego, talking dolls, and dirty towels.’ Mel yawned. ‘How about some chocolate? Wait,
after dinner
, is that right, Miss Black Belt Chef?’ she teased, and our beloved celebrity chef-slash-karate guru came out of the kitchen to give her a pretend kick.

‘Spot on. Now get up off your arse and lend a hand.’ Georgie winked. You wouldn’t know by looking at the tall, slim, model-beautiful Georgie that she could knock out a man twice her size if she wanted to. She looked like she belonged in a hair or skincare commercial, which had probably given a helping hand to her television cooking career.

Mel sighed and twisted her dark hair into a loose, haphazard bun at the nape of her neck. ‘Five minutes into my holiday and I’m back in the kitchen.’

As Mel unpacked the wine and did her best not to pop the cork then and there, the ghost tried to pick up the bottles but her hand went straight through.

Oh no, please don’t do that
, I urged silently as though she could read my thoughts. Well, maybe she could, who knows? She eyed me with a pout then tried again, but instead of succeeding she knocked over the bag of fruit and vegetables and they scattered on the floor.

‘Yep,’ Mel said, bending to retrieve them. ‘Now I really feel at home. Picking things up off the floor. Except I’m the clumsy one instead of my children.’

Ghost Woman (I really should find out her name) circled her arms and wriggled her torso in a happy dance at her slightly off target victory, but victory nonetheless, and ‘whooped’ out loud. ‘Yeah baby, Ghost Mama is in da howse!’

Great.

‘Shame I couldn’t lift the wine,’ she said. ‘I could really do with some in my state. Not that I can drink it. Oh well, I shall practise like mad this weekend to strengthen my…my…powers, or whatever they are.’

‘Oh no you won’t!’ I said. Out loud. Which meant of course that everyone was now looking at me strangely, even Lorena who’d been busy rummaging through some secret bag I wasn’t allowed to look in.