Chapter Eleven

The birds continue to circle, beaks clacking as they smell the fresh meat. His eyes continue to concentrate on the blonde lock just a yard away, when suddenly something yanks it away, and he tries to gasp in surprise. His eyes deflate, wanting to flood with tears. But then he sees wispy black fog slithering between the gaps in the mangled metal, stroking his shattered limbs. The mist reaches up past his legs and onto his torso, forming hands that crawl up him. The fog starts to blacken, solidifying across his beaten chest. A powerful sucking sensation slams him forward, smashing what it can of him into the jagged steel. At the same time a sharp stabbing pain penetrates his chest, hammering him with the first pain that he’s felt since the crash, and it’s an unmentionable, dull agony that makes him want to scream. Nothing comes from him, not even a guttural spasm from his dry lungs. His tongue lolls around in the cavern where his mandible once was, helplessly flicking like the barb of a dying scorpion.

BANG!

Stu jumps as the dining table shudders beneath him. Mike leans over him, clenched fist planted on the wooden surface. “You awake now?” he demands. “I thought you didn’t do sleep.”

Stu grinds a palm into his forehead, eager to scrub away the waking nightmare. He returns to the flurry before him, watching Mike retrieve a wooden spoon and attack a sizzling pan. He flips and churns furiously, pushing half cooked morsels to and fro. Stu’s gaze trails away, and his thoughts drop him back into a quiet semblance. “Same again, I take it?” Mike calls.

“What time is it?” Stu queries, his voice a little hoarse. He’s still gazing at nothing in particular.

“Nearly 7.30.” replies Mike. “You gonna be alright tonight?” he adds, concerned.

“Yea. Just need a minute to fix it.”

“Good luck - I hope you get on better than the other night. I know you’ll be fine though, just don’t cock it up again.”

Stu glares half-heartedly at Mike.

“Calm down, you.” A well spoken woman announces from the adjacent room.

“Yes dear.” Mike grins, gnashing his teeth at her.

“He does have a point though.” Sera calls, poking her head past the door without engaging Stu. “Cheer up B.” Stu adds a fake grin to his complexion, dispatching it as quickly as it had appeared. “Are you still upset about letting go the other night?” she asks, stepping into the kitchen and starting to tidy away bits of rubbish. “Trust me, if she wanted shot of you she wouldn’t be cuddling up to you in a dark cinema tonight.”

Sera is Mike’s long-term girlfriend, stuck in age between him and Stu, but wiser and more headstrong than them both combined. She is the same height as her partner, dressed tonight in a flowing red and black velvet dress that hides her voluptuous curves in all the right places. Her naturally curly light brown hair hangs loosely across half of her face, partly streaked with a deep and dark purple. Her dress sweeps across the floor, the hem troubled only by occasionally peeking feet. Her fingers are tainted with an assortment of faded hues and chipped paint, nails chewed short.

“Like I said to him the other night, I can see too many parallels to what happened with Sam.”

Sera dips a digit into the bubbling sauce left unattended by her boyfriend, checking the taste before replying: “Mike did mention that you’d phoned during the date.” She adds, licking the remaining hot mixture from her finger. “If you really do feel like she’s worth the hassle, then just don’t make the same mistakes. Divert when you can, be unpredictable. If you let yourself give in to the same emotions, you’ll be doomed before you’ve even begun.”

“Well said, mum.” Mike giggles. Sera shakes her head but offers a small smile at his childishness. She continues to empty the counter, keeping herself busy without having to look across at their guest.

“You have the power to control your own destiny.” Stu chortles unkindly at her words. “Well, to some degree. Take the bull by the horns and, if you really want this girl, take her by the arms and do what you feel comes naturally.” she concludes.

“Just don’t get arrested afterwards. Especially if you think she’s a bull, for some reason.” Mike adds, scooping at the sauce with the wooden spoon. Sera rolls her eyes and whips his backside with a tea towel. He jumps, splattering the steaming sauce on his upper lip.

“Owowowowowowowowowowow!” he curses, wiping away what he can before stealing the offensive weapon and pressing it hard against his mouth. Stu and Sera chuckle together. “I’ll get you for that.” He stares with a look of death. She grins back, trapping her tongue between her teeth and suggestively slinking it from side to side.

The doorbell rings, and Sera excitedly scoots off, finding time to share a brief kiss with Mike on her way. Stu remains as he has been for a while now, hunched over and appearing a little weary. Mike turns round to see him unchanged, popping the utensil on the side and approaching.

“I think that suggests she’s here.” Mike points out. Stu springs to his feet, flattening the front of his fitted shirt and tugging it down from the bottom. He directs a wry smile at Mike, who nods knowingly and returns to the hob.

Sera prises open the door, peeking round as she finally puts a face to the name.

“You must be Jenny.” she beams, remaining partly behind the door as it swings open and Jenny enters. Her face gives away her thoughts, wowing at the attractiveness of the brunette. “It’s lovely to finally meet you.”

Jenny smiles back at her, stepping in, her heels clip-clopping as she moves over the wooden floor hidden beneath the thin carpet. Her suede jacket is buttoned up still, bag hung over one wrist, hair completely tied back and away from her neck. “And you must be Sera.” she responds. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too.”

Sera, still smiling, leads Jenny down the corridor towards the boys. As they walk, Jenny glances to her right and into the first door they pass. Within the darkened room she spies a wall covered in homemade masks, the few she spotted adorned with intricate designs and colours. Looking ahead, she sees Mike with his head popped round a corner, smiling and winking as he catches her eye. She enters the warm kitchen, smiling a little nervously as Stu beams back at her.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” she echoes, looking around the small kitchen.

“You remember Sasquatch, don’t you?” Stu asks.

“Mate...” Mike protests. Stu cheekily nods. “So what are you guys going to see again?” he asks, completely ignoring his friend.

Jenny looks over at her date, half expecting him to beat her to it. “It’s a nondescript chick-flick, as Stu would put it.” She answers, maintaining her gaze and mirroring his smile. Stu smirks now, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t expect that response.

Unannounced, Sera hastily scurries off into another room. Stu spots her, grin evaporating.

“It’ll be a ready in a minute.” Mike calls as she departs. “How are you?” he now asks Jenny, extending a hand almost a little too late.

Jenny courteously shakes it in time to her answer. “I’m good. Bit windy outside still, but yea, looking forward to tonight.” She looks excitedly over at Stu.

“Excellent.” Stu proclaims, checking the wall clock. “Just need a quick toilet break, then we can head out.” he adds, gently clashing hands as he slips past her. As Mike busies himself with dishing out dinner, Jenny checks to see which door Stu has disappeared through, and notices the living room just off to the side.

“Nice flat you have here.” she comments.

Mike shakes his head repeatedly. “Don’t be so nice. It’s a shit-hole, but it’s liveable, and that’s what counts.” he answers, shifting to and fro as he loosely arranges the piping meal. Jenny takes a few steps forward into the corridor, hearing Sera’s voice. Edging forward, she doesn’t hear anyone else, so assumes she’s on the phone. The toilet then makes a loud, gushing flush, and Stu appears in the corridor, surprisingly confronted by a wandering Jenny.

“You ready?” she asks. Stu nods and they head for the door. Mike waves them off and, as she exits, Jenny glances into Sera’s room to wave farewell. She spots her knelt before a rocking chair, softly whispering to the empty seat.

***

“Fat lot of good that was.” Dawson whines, noticing Merrick’s inquisitive gaze. “Boss?”

“Give me a moment.” he replies, not breaking his train of thought. Dawson looks behind her to see Mrs. Morweather daub her tears as she’s escorted away.

“She seemed convinced it was her husband that she saw that morning. I certainly see no reason for her to lie - especially when faced with the stark evidence that he did in fact die in that fire.” Merrick tells her. Dawson turns back to listen.

“It could have been a break in - maybe the thief looked exactly like him from behind.”

Merrick furiously shakes his head in denial. “No way. Sounds ridiculous. A random burglar of the same build, hair colour, even the same birthmark? No, I need Baltazar’s input on this. Something’s not right here.”

“And he’s the one you turn to? After I sacrifice being able to ever work with anyone else in this building again, just because no-one else wants to be associated with you? Thanks, boss.” she grumps, folding her arms and resisting the urge to slap him. “You invest too much in this guy. I’ve read up on him, I’ve seen him at work. Total, total nutjob.” She wants to continue, but now is not the time.

“This is my case, remember. Keep on with that attitude and I’ll be ignoring any ideas you have. There’d be no point you bothering to come into work, there would be nothing for you to do.” He grunts, staring her down. “You’re on my side. Stick with it, or you’re out.” he adds, more reserved this time.

“Sorry boss, I’m a little frustrated.” she apologises. “I just don’t want to end up saying I told you so.”

“Trust me. You won’t.”

***

“The Ultimo cinema please!” Stu commands as he shuts the taxi door. The driver starts off with a jolt, knocking his passengers back. “So, remind me again what do you do for a living?” he asks, turning to Jenny as he gets comfortable.

“I study at the University.” she returns. “Plus a little side work as a data inputter, to help pay the bills.”

“Ah, a student then.” Stu nods. “What course?”

“Parapsychology.” she adds. Stu nods more eagerly.

“Very interesting. Any particular area that most fascinates you?”

“Telekinesis.” she replies. Stu is very impressed by her. “I was interested in it from a young age; my grandfather used to tell me all sorts of stories.” she smiles. “There was a rumour going around where I grew up that my mother was telekinetic, but whenever I asked she always laughed and told me not to be so silly. Happy Bob on the other hand - oh we used to affectionately call him that, it was a nickname from one of his early jobs. He was always very direct when he talked about this ‘ability’ that my mother had, so I decided to delve into it as I got older. My interest held out when I left school, and here I am.”

“You firmly believe your grandfather then?” Stu queries.

“Of course! He rarely embellished things when it came to supernatural tales, and to be honest I could always tell that my mum was lying when I pressed her. Shame, as when my grandfather died, word of my mother’s so-called ability was hushed and never mentioned again. I often get the impression he’s watching over me though. It’s a lovely feeling, and really helps when I feel down.”

“And how are you finding the course?”

“Very good, and very informative. I’ll be starting my last year in September, but I’m still undecided as to what I want to do afterwards. There aren’t any jobs in the city that I could go onto - I’d probably have to make a move elsewhere instead.” Stu nods subtly as she speaks.

“So I take it you firmly believe in ghosts, Heaven, Hell, all that stuff?” he asks.

“Oh yea, I heard enough stories to firmly convince me it all exists!” Jenny smiles back. “Happy Bob loved telling me about his time in the Second World War, as well as stories his father brought back from the First. There was a lot of spooky stuff in there, like a young soldier, perhaps sixteen or seventeen? He came back from the dead and could suddenly heal the dying! I’ll have to tell you about it all sometime.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Stu replies.

“As for other work, I already mentioned the data admin role. It’s such a monotonous job, I really wouldn’t want to do it permanently.” Stu smirks back at her. “So what about you? What’s your line of work?”

“I’m a PI.” he replies.

Jenny’s eyes widen. “Wow, that’s a new one. I always imagined PI’s would be a lot older than you, and not the socialising type.” Jenny adds. “Don’t they usually sport a moustache?”

Stu chuckles and leans towards her. “I’m a paranormal investigator.” he whispers, returning to his side of the car.

“Not a fake, so-called medium, like those on TV?” Jenny blurts. Stu laughs quite hard. “What’s his name? John Berringer!”

“He’s no medium, just a presenter who thinks he knows everything in the field.”

“I bet you hate him.” she poses.

“Not in the slightest. He’s interesting to watch, in a so-bad-it’s-almost-good kind of way.” he tells her. “Oh, and no, I’m not a fake, either.” She is immediately relieved by his response. “I hate those types, piggy-backing on the abilities of a select few to make as much money as possible.”

“It’s the world we live in, unfortunately.” Jenny replies. “But you will have to prove it to me. I can’t take your word for it now.” she teases.

“Quite.”

“Where is your office based then?”

“I don’t have one.” Stu tells her. “I only have a flat to myself, and I guess it makes a suitable office.”

“Isn’t it a bit weird when you have clients over?” Jenny ponders.

“I have a strict rule about that. Mike is the only guest, as the place is always an absolute mess. Means I don’t have to tidy, as I know he doesn’t care.”

“Must be difficult if clients want to meet you, or talk in private.”

Stu smiles at her. “There are plenty of places where you can talk privately. A lot of the time the people I help approach me on the street, or somewhere I don’t expect them to.”

“Are you really popular?”

“Not to John Berringer levels, no.” he winks. “But people can seek me out quite easily if they need me.”

“Very mysterious.” she grins. “Obvious question then, can you speak to the dead?” Jenny demands, leaning in with a hushed voice.

Stu looks at the cabbie, glad to see him oblivious to their conversation. “To a degree.” he answers, looking Jenny squarely in the eyes. Her face lights up and she grins enormously.

“For now, until you prove this, you are perfect, Mr...” Jenny realises what’s missing. “How have we not exchanged surnames yet? Albers. Jenny Albers, in case you were wondering.”

Stu shies away from her, aware that now he has to reveal his less-than normal name. “Baltazar.” He pauses. “Au... Stu Baltazar.”

Jenny curiously half-clenches her eyelids. “So it’s definitely not Stuart then - cool surname though! Do you have a card? It’s got to look cool on a card.”

Stu chuckles to himself, enjoying her company. “I don’t tend to tell people either of my names, as they either laugh, or can’t spell them properly.” Stu replies. “Especially the surname.” Jenny looks forlornly at him, and he can tell she’s struggling to identify his forename. “Augustus.” he mutters, keeping his voice down.

Jenny just smiles. “That’s... well, that’s certainly different.” She remarks. “I’ll tell you what though, and I hope you don’t mind, but I already have a pet name for you. One that we can share. It’s not too hard to spell either.” she glows.

“Go on.”

“I’m going to call you spiller.” she smiles.

It doesn’t take him long to figure it out - returning to their wordless encounter in the Anvil.

“I like it.” he gazes at her, caught up in this wonderful moment. “That’s twice you’ve called me that now.”

“Don’t get me wrong, your actual name is really cool too. I understand why you keep it short though.” she tells him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, spiller.” Jenny extends her hand and Stu firmly shakes it.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’ll come back to you with your pet name.” he sneakily winks, forcing her into laughter. Stu then notices the taxi pulling up to the open square across from their destination and slips a crisp ten pound note from his pocket. “Cheers, mate.” he adds, passing it over. “Keep the change.”

Stu joins Jenny on the path as the taxi drives off. He goes to intertwine his fingers with hers, just brushing past them as she moves her arm to search through her handbag. He coyly steps back without looking at her, happy to keep things on her terms, for the moment.

As Jenny leaves the contents of her bag alone, she turns to Stu and goes to clasp his hand, just as he moves it to scratch his side. He then stuffs his hands firmly in his pockets which Jenny notices, crossing her arms in reply. She’ll give it another go later.

“So, tell me about contacting those no longer with us.” She asks, still a short walk away from the cinema. “Do they come to you whenever and wherever, or do you have to do something in particular?” She looks over at Stu upon realising his silence, noticing him scanning the area.

“There are five that I can see right now. Two of them are sat outside that restaurant.” he points, immediately re-holstering his hand. Jenny looks herself, seeing ordinary people milling around where he had directed. Stu then realises whether he should be mentioning any of this, as he spies a blonde bearing a striking resemblance to Sam.

“Do they look like the same as when they died?” Jenny queries as she pertinently scopes the area, frustrated that she’s either blind to these spirits, or he’s flat out lying. “I mean, are they silhouettes, or transparent... or even ghostly white?”

Stu smiles at her response. Sensing her passion for this subject, he feels content to continue. “Not directly like we normally look.” he informs. “They are a washed out grey - sometimes their eyes are sunken, sometimes the skin is withered. I don’t think they’d be able to see you, but they can definitely see me.” Stu exchanges eye contact with one of them as he walks past. Her wounds are hideous and a rich black, a bold contrast to the dull stone of her skin.

“So there’s a way of contacting, say, Erica?” Jenny quizzes. Stu looks away from her, taken aback by the request. “Sorry, I just feel that I need to say goodbye, that’s all.” Stu nods sympathetically.

“I can’t speak to anyone at anytime, if that’s what you mean. I’ve found that they tend to reside where they either met their demise or spent a considerable amount of time throughout their life. Sometimes they just cling to where they’re buried, for some reason. There’s little point directly searching as you’re more than likely to wind up with nothing.” Stu replies. “If they need me, they’ll come.”

“I guess the same goes for my grandfather?” she adds.

Stu tips his head. “How did he die?”

“He died in his sleep. To be honest, he’s probably at the cemetery, as he’s with my granny there. He spent so much time tending to her grave.” Jenny muses. “He struggled to keep walking when he was older, even though he kept at it, didn’t want to bother us in that sense. Sounds like quite a remarkable gift though - if you’re telling the truth, of course.” Jenny smirks. Stu looks at her, noticing the curl in her lips.

“I’m sorry about Erica.”

“Thank you.” she replies, wanting to edge closer as they reach the steps to the cinema.

Stu ignores the two ghosts watching him intently, holding the foyer door open for his date as he gets there. He watches her slip past, not willing to further talk of her late friend.

***

Jenny wraps her jacket tightly around her as they exit the warm interior, a blast of chill air whirling around them.

“Crikey!” Stu yelps, stuffing his hands into the familiar warmth of his pockets. He opted not to wear a jacket this evening, perhaps foolishly.

“Bit chilly for you, is it?” Jenny chuckles as she bounces down the brick steps.

“Too bloody right.” Stu grimaces, taking them one at a time.

“You look absolutely bored. Was my company really that awful?” she jokingly asks.

Stu shakes his head furiously. “Not in the slightest - and I hope I didn’t snore too loud.” he replies.

Jenny playfully slaps him across the chest. “I distinctly heard laughter coming from you on several occasions mister!” She grins. “And the girlfriend was quite easy on the eye...”

“Now that, I can agree with! No idea who the actress was though. She’s been in something before, I spent half the movie trying to remember what it was, but gave up during that shower scene.”

“Yea, I’m not surprised you enjoyed that bit.”

Stu laughs. He notices Jenny stop in her tracks.

“I guess this is it then. Shame we can’t go onto somewhere else tonight.” Jenny gripes.

“Yea, sorry about that.” Stu replies.

“One question before you go... Is there any chance I could accompany you on your next job, if it’s not intruding?” she asks coyly, certain he will agree to it.

“Maybe.” he replies however, taken aback by the request. “I don’t have any jobs booked at the moment, but I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, thanks.” she replies, wondering now if he’s actually alright with the request. “Will I still be seeing you Saturday?”

“Of course.” He says, hands making a rare appearance to accentuate his positive response. They motion closer, Jenny taking one hand and playing with his fingers. They are both very reluctant to end the night this way, but truly Stu just wants to be alone tonight, especially after the conversation repeatedly returned to talk of Erica.

Stu bows his head at her and their fingers untangle. “I’ll see you next weekend then.” he tells her. Jenny is delighted, and walks off towards the taxi, hiding her disappointment at not kissing him goodnight. Stu stands and watches her, wondering if this should continue. He wants her, that’s for sure, but so many conflicting thoughts swirl in his head.

Jenny looks back as her taxi pulls away, waving to him until the car turns and he’s gone.

Stu turns around and steps into the road, straight into the path of a speeding bus. The impact skims his corpse across the tarmac and under the wheels of a skidding van.