Page 22 of Curse of the Stag's Eye
Dawn shouted and ran her fingers through her hair. “Are you okay? Babes, are you okay?”
I gazed up at him. “What did it feel like?”
Nikesh’s hands ran over his whole body — torso, arms, legs, face — and he slowly sat down again. “It felt like… like electricityracing out from my spine in waves, or ripples. Like a stone thrown into a pond.” He sat wide-eyed for a moment, then looked at each one of us in turn. He burst out laughing. “Oh, my Christ! That was a ghost! A ghost touched me!” He slammed his palms on the table, over and over again, like a makeshift drumroll.
I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Even Dawn managed a smile. Nikesh leaned across the kidney-shaped table and kissed her. I caught Gaz’s eye. He wasn’t laughing. His mouth hadn’t closed, nor had he turned away from where the shape had been.
Nikesh bounced around the kitchen while Dawn tried to hug him and calm him down.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Gaz turned to look at me. His eyes were red and wet. He moved to speak but caught himself. He wiped his face with his hand. “I need some air.”
“Yes, air!” Nikesh pointed at him. “I bloody love air. Let’s go get some air. Babes, you coming?”
Dawn glanced at me from the side of her eye. “You two go on. I’m not climbing all those stairs again.”
He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “Back in a minute. Come on, Gaz. Don’t summon any phantoms without us!” He disappeared through the door, still waggling his fingertips. Gaz trudged out after him.
Michael sat with his chin still trembling and his hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles had turned bone white.
“Michael?” I tried to make eye contact but he kept staring at the doorway. “Michael?” I reached out to touch his shoulder.
He snapped his head round to look me dead in the eye. “What the hell was that? How did you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything. It was a ghost. A real ghost.”
“A ghost.” His manicured nails dug into the table. “A ghost.” His eyes darted about, then without warning he slid out of thebench, and bolted out of the room. His Italian leather shoes echoed as he ran down the stairs.
“He didn’t take that well,” Dawn said.
“Should I go after him?”
“The boys can calm him down.” She sat next to me and rubbed my forearm. “Are you okay, hun?”
I gave myself a bit of a shake. “Fine. Yes. Fine. It’s not my first ghost. Though it was definitely my most…present, if that makes sense?”
She nodded. “I know what you mean. So you’re okay, then?”
“Yes,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“Good.” She slapped my ear. Hard.
“Ow!What the bloody hell was that for?”
“For the speakers, and the footsteps, and the lies, you dozy bollocks.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “I can’t believe you did that.”
I rubbed my ear. “I said I was sorry.”
“Did you?” she asked. “When?”
“Well, I meant to. I’m sorry, okay?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. “You don’t stand a chance with him now, you know.”
“With who?” My ear started to sting. I think she hit me with a ring.
She popped her tongue at me. “With Gaz, you pillock. I know Michael wanted into your knickers, too, but I don’t think he’d be good for you.”
I grumbled. I’d never grumbled before, I don’t think. “Michael? He’s not into me, he’s into Gaz. That’s why they’d been bickering all evening.”
