To my surprise, Tessa really did start ignoring me. It was heavenly, not having her in my face. Instead, she hovered near Josh, peering over his shoulder. Surprisingly, she wasn’t even speaking to him anymore. Had she finally realised it was a waste of time, because the only person who could hear her was me?
On Saturday, I took Tilly for a walk in the hopes that it would make it easier for me to concentrate on revision when I got home. I was almost done with mock exams, but my brain had already decided to give up on me. So I thought some fresh air and some movement might help.
Tilly trotted along beside me, occasionally stopping to sniff a patch of grass. A thin layer of white covered the grass and the ground. It was early, earlier than I’d usually be up, and the wind had a bite to it. The frost made the ground slippery, so I was careful not to lose my footing. I’d wash Tilly’s paws when we got in to get any grit, poo, or other things from between her toes.
A couple of times I had to stop her from rolling in fox poo, her favourite perfume. Even though the ground was slightly frozen, that fact didn’t seem to deter her from trying to get to the fox poo. It was so gross. But of course, as a dog, she didn’t think so.
Other than that, it was a refreshing walk.
Until, on the way home, Tessa’s funeral procession went past.
I knew it was hers because she was watching from a few feet away, sobbing.
I stopped, lowering my head as the three black cars passed.
Tessa walked alongside the cars, hunched over and with her head in her hands. I’d never seen her cry so hard. Fragility wasn’t something she showed very often. But I supposed when other people couldn’t see you, what did it matter?
Tessa covered her eyes, her chest heaving as she almost seemed to hyperventilate. She couldn’t, since she didn’t breathe, but that was the best way I could describe the way she moved. It looked like she was almost having a panic attack. Could ghosts have panic attacks? I mean, her funeral did seem like a prime candidate for something like that.
She noticed me watching her, met my eye, then turned away and kept walking.
It was the first time I’d seen Tessa look truly broken. And lonely. It didn’t sit right with me. Even though she was a massive bitch, she’d suffered for something that wasn’t her fault.
Unfortunately, my walk home was in the same direction as the funeral procession. So I had to keep going behind it, at least until the end of the road, where I could go in another direction.
Tessa noticed I was following. ‘Coming to the funeral?’ she said with a forced laugh.
‘No.’
Nobody else was around, and I figured anyone in the funeral cars was too busy crying to notice me. Josh was probably in one of those cars. I pushed the image of him crying in his black suit, sitting beside her parents, to the back of my mind.
Tessa lowered her head. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this.’
‘Whatever.’
I wasn’t interested in her fake apologies. Tilly and I sped up, carrying on down the street and turning away.
*
Mum was at home, polishing the living room, when I walked in. ‘Good walk?’
‘Sort of.’ I let Tilly off her lead, then went into the kitchen to get the stuff to clean her paws.
Mum followed me, standing in the doorway. ‘What happened?’
‘Saw Tessa’s funeral procession. She tried to apologise to me.’ I shook my head as I filled the cup with shampoo and water. ‘I’m so tired of her games. Why can’t she just leave me alone?’ I turned off the tap. ‘It’s like she doesn’t even want our help solving her murder, she just wants to keep bullying me.’
Mum twirled the yellow polishing cloth between her fingers.
‘We can’t just sit by and let Goodfellow keep killing people, though. Or wait for him to attack one of us. But it feels like she wants to keep suffering, and she’s fine if other people keep suffering, too.’
Mum sighed. ‘Have you tried talking to her on your terms?’
‘What do you mean?’
Mum pursed her lips. ‘Hear me out, before you say anything. If you can find a way for Tessa to talk to Josh – which is clearly what she wants or she wouldn’t be haunting him – it might give them both some closure. And help you understand what they saw in each other.’
I snorted. ‘Why do I care about that?’
‘It might help you move on.’
‘I’ve moved on just fine.’
Mum put the cloth down and sat on the sofa. ‘You’re not the least bit curious what he sees in her?’
‘All right. Fine. What if I am? You really think she’d even consider talking to me? Let alone actually do it?’
‘If she wants to get the closure she needs, she hasn’t got a choice.’