Page 9 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

“No,” I let out a breathy laugh, “but you had me worried there for a second.”

She shakes her head. “I am not that silly, but I suppose it doesn’t make a difference anyway, does it? I’m dead.” There’s a finality in her words that’s painful to hear.

“You’rehere, though, right? I’m talking to you. You’re here and you’re real. That’s pretty amazing.” I don’t know why I’m trying to give her a pep talk. She’sdead. Thatispretty fucking serious. It’s not like there’s any coming back from that, and yet here I am trying to see a silver lining, hoping for some sort of miracle.

That’s impossible, though.Her body…I shudder, thinking about the fact that she’s probably buried somewhere in that old graveyard under Grafton Bridge. Fuck.

“How long have I been dead, then?” Her voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Ah, if it was 1915? Over a hundred years — no, wait — more like a hundred and ten.”

“Are there others like me?” she asks, her voice small. She holds up one translucent hand. “Like this, now that the Unravelling has occurred?”

I’ve never been this close to her before. I lift my hand, until our fingers should be touching, but I feel nothing. When I look, the pads of her fingers are disappearing into mine.Damn.I’d been hoping she was a little more solid.

“Nah,” I say, pulling my hand away, staring at my fingers for a moment. “You’re the only real ghost I’ve ever heard of.”

In the daylight,without Rose following me with her silent, ghost footsteps, the house next door just seems sad. I don’t quite understand how a house can bethis old, and yet still have items in it from when she was alive, but then again, Rose is a literal ghost, so I suppose anything goes these days.

I’ve got plenty of time on my hands between small gigs, so I went to the hardware store this morning and grabbed a bunch of budget cleaning supplies and plastic sheets to cover the broken window panes. The way Rose’s face lit up when I told her my plans made sweeping up all the gross mouse droppings and scrubbing the floors worth it.

Now that it’s done and the windows have been patched up, I find myself lingering in the empty house, thinking about what life must have been like when she was alive. It’s surprisingly easy to imagine her going about her day in that old-fashioned outfit of hers, playing the piano for her younger sisters, gardening alongside her father, and reading about the war in the newspaper.

I know I’m a little bit obsessed with her, and it’s a problem.

She’s a fucking ghost, but I can’t shake the feeling that she’s meant to be so much more.

My phone buzzes,the nameLeighflashing up on the screen. I swipe open the call, putting it on speaker so I can keep chopping potatoes. I’ve been living here a few weeks, and it turns out that none of my flatmates know how to cook more than the absolute basics. Josh had his girlfriend cooking for him the last time she was over, and I had to bite my tongue before I made a comment about weaponised incompetence.

“You’re actually cooking a roast?”Heath had asked me earlier as he passed by the kitchen.

“What? Like it’s hard?”I’d replied, doing my best Reese Witherspoon impression, which I actually think is pretty fucking good, but it was obvious that he didn’t get the reference.

“Hey!” I say now, bending over my phone.

“Hey! Look, I’ve got a favour to ask. I know we discussed you having one more week on doors et cetera, but Nate has a family emergency, and he’s got to get back over to Aussie for a bit. If I send you the videos of his usual routine, do you think you could do it?”

“Um, I mean yeah. Yeah I can, but I’m gonna need a bigger helmet.” Nate’s whole thing is him being a biker, which I don’t really get, because he’s such a pretty boy that it seems like a waste to cover his face with a bike helmet, but the audience seems to love it.

“Yeah, I already figured that. I’ve got one for orcs, but it’s second-hand if you’re ok with that? It belonged to my ex.”

Her tone is laced with bitterness.Yikes.“Yeah, that’ll do. Okay. Should I grab that today then? I’m in the middle of making dinner, but —”

“I can drop it off, I’ve got your address. I’m about to head out now anyway. Thank you for this!”

I shrug, even though she can’t see me. “It’s part of the job, right? I’m happy to help.”

It’s beendark for hours by the time I finally make it over to Rose’s place. I bring the helmet with me because it’s impossible to practise in my bedroom, and I have 24 hours to get this routine right before I’m up on stage in nothing but a g-string and this thing on my head.

“I thought that perhaps you weren’t coming tonight,” Rose begins as she greets me at the door, her eyes roaming over my face. “I’d not blame you; my company is not all that good.”

“Bullshit. I love spending time with you. Why would I tidy up this place for hours just to never come here again?” I step inside, lifting the other item I’ve brought along: a battery-powered lantern. I close the front door behind me, then switch the lamp on, and Rose gasps in surprise.

“Oh that’s delightful, and so bright! It fills the entire room.”

“It's nice right? You can keep it here, if you like. You don't have to live in the dark the whole time.”

She flashes me a sad smile, her head tilting as if to saydon't be silly. “I don't think I'm capable of turning it on. I can't seem to be able to interact with anything in here apart from the surface I'm standing on, and the chairthere,” she says pointing to one of the wooden chairs that I righted as I was tidying today. “I tested it out earlier tonight; I can sit on it! It's the first time I've sat down in a long time, or at least I think it is. Whenever I'm here I'm usually just standing.”

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