She sits down beside me on a wooden bench, and for a moment we’re both silent. I glance at my watch. Eight fifty-five. They open up shop at nine. Just the thought gives me a rush of panic, so I won’t think about it. Not yet. I’ll just focus on the fact that I’m sitting here with Sadie.
“Nice dress, by the way.” I think I sound fairly normal. “Who did you pinch that one from?”
“No one,” says Sadie, sounding offended. “It was mine.” She runs her eyes over me, then says grudgingly, “Your shoes are pretty.”
“Thanks.” I want to smile, but my mouth won’t quite do it. “I bought them the other day. Ed helped me choose them, actually. We were late-night shopping. We went to the Whiteleys center. They had all these special offers on…”
I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m just talking for the sake of it. Because talking is better than waiting. I glance at my watch again and it’s two minutes past the hour. They’re late. I feel ridiculously grateful, like we’ve been given a reprieve.
“He’s rather good at the old bone-jumping, isn’t he?” Sadie suddenly says conversationally. “Ed, I mean. Mind you… you’re not so bad either.”
Bone-jumping?
She doesn’t mean-
No. No .
“Sadie.” I turn on her. “I knew it! You watched us!”
“What?” She bursts into peals of laughter. “I was very subtle! You didn’t know I was there.”
“What did you see?” I moan.
“Everything,” she says airily. “And it was a jolly good show, I can tell you.”
“Sadie, you’re impossible!” I clutch my head. “You don’t watch people having sex! There are laws against that!”
“I just had one tiny criticism,” she says, ignoring me. “Or, rather… suggestion. Something we used to do in my day.”
“No!” I say in horror. “No suggestions!”
“Your loss.” She shrugs and examines her nails, occasionally shooting me a look from under her lashes.
Oh for God’s sake. Of course, now my curiosity is piqued. I want to know what her suggestion is.
“All right,” I say at last. “Tell me your genius 1920s sex tip. But it better not involve any weird indelible paste.”
“Well…” Sadie begins, coming closer. But before she can continue, my eyes suddenly focus over her shoulder. I stiffen and draw breath. An elderly man in an overcoat is unlocking the door of the funeral parlor.
“What is it?” Sadie follows my gaze. “Oh.”
“Yes.” I swallow.
By now the elderly man has caught sight of me. I suppose I am quite noticeable, sitting bolt upright on a bench staring directly at him.
“Are you… all right?” he says warily.
“Um… hi.” I force myself to my feet. “I’m actually… I’ve come to pay a visit to your… to pay my respects. It’s my great-aunt. Sadie Lancaster. I believe you’re… this is where…”
“Aaah.” He nods somberly. “Yes.”
“Could I… possibly… see her?”
“Aaah.” He bows his head again. “Of course. Just give me a minute to open up the place, get a few things straight, and I will be with you, Miss…”
“Lington.”
“Lington.” There’s a flash of recognition in his face. “Of course, of course. If you’d like to come in and wait in our family room…”
“I’ll be in in a moment.” I give an approximation of a smile. “Just got… a call to make…”
He disappears inside. For a moment I can’t quite move. I want to prolong this moment of limbo. I want to stop us doing this. If I don’t acknowledge it, maybe it’s not really going to happen.
“Got the necklace?” comes Sadie’s voice beside me.
“Right here.” I pull it out of my bag.
“Good.” She smiles, but it’s a tense, remote smile. I can tell she’s moved on from 1920s sex tips.
“So… are you ready?” I try to sound lighthearted. “These places can be quite depressing-”
“Oh, I’m not coming in,” says Sadie nonchalantly. “I’ll sit here and wait. Much better.”
“Right.” I nod. “Good idea. You don’t want to…”
I trail off, unable to continue-but also unable to bring up what I’m really thinking. The thought that’s going around and around my head like an ominous tune, getting louder and louder.
Is neither of us going to bring it up?
“So.” I swallow hard.
“So what?” Sadie’s voice is bright and sharp as a chip of diamond-and instantly I know. It’s on her mind too.
“What d’you think will happen when I… when…”
“Do you mean, will you finally be rid of me?” says Sadie, as flippantly as ever.
“No! I just meant-”
“I know. You’re in a tearing hurry to get rid of me. Sick of the sight of me.” Her chin is quivering but she flashes me a smile. “Well, I shouldn’t think it’ll work for a moment.”
Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the message in them. Don’t lose it. No wallowing. Chin up .
“So I’m stuck with you.” I somehow manage a derisory tone. “Great.”
“Afraid so.”
“Just what every girl needs.” I roll my eyes. “A bossy ghost hanging around the place forever.”