Love In The Wrong Dimension (Romantic Ghost Story) (8 page)

Jemma snapped back to reality with a start. She had never spoken to Max before, he always looked so angry and hostile. He'd never made any attempt to talk to her either and she had been careful to avoid him - he gave her the creeps.

“
Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about something Susie said,” she replied, not wanting to start up a conversation with him. She mentally reinforced the protective barrier of energy around her, as if she somehow thought that he might attack her.

“
Bloody kid, always up to no good,” he grumbled, his cold, beady eyes devoid of any expression. “Where's Tom?”

“
Erm, I don't really know. You know Tom, always popping out without warning.”

“
Hmm, he always was a wanderer. When he was a youngster, he walked right out of the front door without telling no-one and he was gone for hours. His mum was mad as hell.”

“
How long have you known him?” Jemma asked, puzzled.

“
All his life. Watched him grow up.”

“
How did you know him? Are you related?”

“
No, you daft girl, I've been dead over a hundred years. I just watched Tom grow up here that's all.”

“
Tom grew up here? In Jack's house? So that's why he haunts this house, it's his home.”

“
'Course it bloody is. Why else would he be here?”

Good point, thought Jemma. Max was staring at her, and she shifted uncomfortably under his steely gaze. There was something about Max, she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, especially as he was being perfectly civil with her right now, but something in his eyes hinted at something very dark, even menacing, and she found herself wondering if he was as harmless as Tom had said he was.

“
Are you still leaving?”

“
Oh yes, definitely. I’ve just got to find a way.”

“
You want to find a wormhole then.”

“
A what?”

“
Wormhole,” said Max impatiently. “It’s the only way out of here.”

“
How? What exactly is a wormhole? How do I find one?”

But before Max could answer, Tom walked through the wall. “Find what?”

“
Max was just telling me about something called a wormhole. He said that it’s the only way out of here.”

Tom smiled, “I’m afraid it’s not that easy. Wormholes are notoriously difficult to locate and even harder to manipulate. I wouldn’t get your hopes up.”

Just then the front door banged shut and Jack returned, laden with shopping bags. Leaving Max behind, Jemma and Tom followed him into the kitchen and watched as he started unpacking the shopping.

“
He’ll be watching X Factor later,” said Tom, absently.

“
I know.”

They watched as Jack made himself a cup of tea, and rifled through the biscuit tin, whilst trying to stop Casper from jumping up onto the worktop to check if he had bought any tuna.

“
Why is Max haunting this house?” asked Jemma, interrupting the bored silence.

“
Max? He’s been here for a long time.” Tom smiled at her, “Did you know that I grew up here, in this house?”

“
Well, Max did mention something just before. I wasn’t snooping, honestly, it just came up.”

“
That’s okay. My parents moved into this house when I was a baby and I lived here until I was eighteen. My Grandparents owned the house originally, but they wanted to move to the country when Grandfather retired, so my mother and father bought it off them. I always felt that this house was haunted, but whenever I mentioned it to my parents, they just said it was my imagination. But there were times when I heard unexplained noises, lights would switch on and off, and I had the distinct feeling that someone was watching me. The only person who ever believed me was Grandfather, he said he’d felt it too. Anyway, I got used to it and when I left home I forgot all about it. And then I died – and met Max. He never says much, but he did make it abundantly clear that he blames my family for his death.”

“
Why?”

“
I don’t know. Only that it’s to do with my Grandfather, apparently it’s his fault that Max died. My father died the year before I did, and when I died, my mother sold the house to Jack’s grandparents. That’s all I know, he won’t talk to me.”

“
Hello? Alice? It’s Jack. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.” Jack’s voice interrupted their conversation.

“
Oh Tom, he’s phoning Alice,” Jemma cried, excitedly.

“
Good. Well, you know where I am.” Jack paused as he listened to what Alice was saying. “Tell you what. What are you doing tonight? Why don’t you come round for a bite to eat? No, of course you wouldn’t be intruding. Great. About 6ish? Right, see you later. By the way, do you like X Factor?”

*****

Alice smiled as she put her mobile down. Wow, Jack had just rung and asked her to dinner. Okay, maybe not dinner exactly. But a bite to eat whilst watching X Factor was a start.

She felt a sudden urge to talk to Jemma, to tell her about Jack’s invitation and get her advice on what to wear. The lump that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in her throat, swelled and fresh tears, once again, stung her tired and swollen eyes. She blinked the tears away and decided to put some music on to cheer herself up. She found her favourite album on her iPod, and smiled as the dark, heavy guitars introduced the first song on Gothic Doom Anthems, a compilation of the darkest, heaviest gothic tracks from past and present.

She had no idea why, but somehow the darker and gloomier the song, the more it cheered her up. She caught a glance of herself in the mirror and thought that she would make quite a good Goth, with her pale, drawn face and dark circles under her eyes; all she needed was to dye her blonde hair black, and she would fit in nicely with the real Goths in Camden.

As the first chords of the next track started though, Alice, once again, felt the tears returning – this had been the song that she and Jemma had been dancing to at Jack’s party, last month. Was it really only a month? She had returned to the flat shortly after Jemma’s funeral, telling Jack that she was going to stay with her parents for a while. She’d felt bad about lying to him, but she’d needed some time alone and Jack would never have let her come back to the cold, empty flat all by herself. She had sent him the odd text to let him know that she was alright, but she hadn’t seen him since. The last psychic meeting at Jack’s house had been cancelled, and the next one was next week, so she had supposed that that would be the next time she would see him. He had always replied to her texts promptly though, telling her to let him know if there was anything he could do.

The thought of Jack brought a smile to her face as she hunted through her wardrobe for the skinny black jeans she’d bought in the sale a couple of months ago. The jeans made her legs look longer than they actually were, and looked perfect with her favourite white top. The black suede kitten heel boots finished off her classy and sexy, but ‘I didn’t go to any trouble’ look. As she put on a simple silver necklace and matching earrings, she surveyed herself in the mirror, decided that a little lip gloss was needed, along with a squirt of her favourite lemon scented perfume, and she was ready.

“
Wish me luck, Jem,” she whispered, just before she left for the tube station. She had decided to be lazy and go the one stop on the tube and then walk to Swiss Cottage from Belsize Park. She loved that walk, along the same road that she and Jemma had walked down the morning after the party.

Once in the station, she stood quietly on the near empty platform, feeling a slight breeze ruffling her hair. Suddenly, a rush of goosebumps ran up her arm and she looked around her, certain that someone was watching her, but the only people were at the other end of the platform. She had thought that there had been someone standing behind her, in fact, she had been sure of it. It was with some relief that she heard the distant rumble of an approaching train, and she gratefully boarded it as it stopped and opened its doors. The carriage was very quiet, with only a handful of passengers sitting distantly from each other. Alice automatically put on her air of detachment; an essential requirement for Londoners travelling on the Underground, using it like a protective cloak, warning others not to talk to, or look at her.

She sat down absently, lost in her thoughts, and as the train pulled into the tunnel, she stared blankly at her reflection in the window opposite. Suddenly though, she froze and felt a cold shiver run through her as she looked at the dark tunnel speeding past the window. Sitting next to her, and staring at her through the reflection, was the strange boy that she had seen before, pale and slightly blurry in the dirty window. She turned quickly to look at him, but the seat next to her was empty, in fact, there was no-one in that section of the carriage at all - he
had
been there though, she was sure of it.

At last the train pulled into the station and stopped. Alice got off as quickly as she could, and made her way to the lifts as the train disappeared back into the tunnel. No-one else got off and she was alone, the only sound was her heels clicking on the stone floor. It felt like ages, but at last the lift arrived, and she stepped hurriedly inside and let out a sigh of relief as the doors started to close. But, just before the doors closed, Alice looked up and saw the boy again, standing silently outside the lift, and slowly disappearing as the two sides of the doors met and the lift started moving upwards.

The walk to Jack’s house seemed much longer than it had before and Alice, unnerved by her experience on the tube, was nervous and on edge. She kept glancing behind her, convinced that she was being followed, but the pavement behind her was empty, except for a lone cat pacing through the fallen crisp leaves. She took a deep breath and dug her hands deeper into her pockets, shivering slightly in the autumn chill. The air was fresh and cool, and carried a subtle smell of burning leaves, a smell that took her back to when she and Jemma would make a bit of extra pocket money by sweeping up leaves in neighbours’ gardens. Invariably, they’d end up throwing themselves into the huge pile of leaves they’d so painstakingly gathered, and had to start again. A smile spread across her face as the memories came flooding back.

By the time she got to Jack’s house, she had calmed down considerably, and her initial unease was now replaced with anticipation at seeing Jack again. As she rang the doorbell, she felt a flutter of excitement and wondered if he would be just as pleased to see her.

“
Hey you,” he beamed as he opened the door, allowing a delicious smell of tomato, garlic and herbs to waft out. “Perfect timing, come and try the sauce for me. I hope you like Spaghetti Bolognaise?”

“
Ooh yes, I love it, thank you.” Alice followed him into the kitchen, enjoying the warmth as she took her coat off. “It smells fantastic.”

As Jack opened a bottle of red wine, she looked around the kitchen and admired the uncluttered and immaculate worktops, not unlike her own. Jack was very much like her, she realised, he also hated clutter and was always tidying up after himself. They’d make a great couple, she thought wistfully.

“
What do you think?” he said, holding a spoon of steaming bolognaise sauce to her lips.

The sauce was very hot and she blew gently at it, raising her eyes to Jack’s as she tasted it. There was something very sensuous about the moment, and Alice found herself wondering what would happen if a bit of the sauce dripped and fell onto her white top. Would he offer to clean it for her? Of course, that would mean taking it off.....

“
Hmm, delicious,” she murmured, licking her lips seductively.

“
Great,” Jack turned away, clearly pleased with his culinary efforts and completely oblivious to Alice’s not-so-subtle signals.

Alice rolled her eyes and wondered what she’d have to do to get his attention. She wasn’t about to make the first move though, she wasn’t that brave. And anyway, what if he didn’t fancy her? What if he was wishing that she’d just get the message and that he was only being nice to her because he felt sorry for her?

The dinner was lovely. Jack was an excellent cook and an attentive host, making sure her wine glass was topped up and that she was comfortable. They laughed at some of the hopeless auditions on the X Factor, and tried to predict possible winners from the good ones. It felt so right, the three of them sitting on the sofa together; her and Jack, and Casper happily curled up on Jack’s lap after licking his plate clean.

When the programme was finished, Jack stretched, stood up and took the plates out to the kitchen. Alice followed him and stood in the doorway, watching him as he fed Casper, feeling a twinge of envy as she watched him stroke the purring cat affectionately. Jack was everything she could ever wish for in a man. Apart from the obvious, his good looks and excellent taste in music, he was also kind, warmhearted and sensitive. In fact, he was perfect. Except for one thing – he didn’t seem to fancy her.

“
By the way, are you back at your flat?” Jack’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

Alice blushed slightly, “Er, yes. I
was
going to stay with my parents, but I needed to be on my own for a bit. Sorry, I should have told you.”

“
Hey, it’s up to you what you do. I only asked because I care.”

“
Do you?” Did he just say he cared? Slowly, she moved closer to him, and looked up into his face, hoping for some sort of sign that he cared a little bit more than he was letting on.