Page 7 of The Midnight Book Club
Like her writing, Aurelia’s romantic prospects had tapered off in the wake of her mother’s death.She’d been dating a nice-enough guy named Brendan for a few months when her mother had gotten sick, and he’d stuck by her through the difficult months that followed.Aurelia had liked him well enough but knew he wasn’t ‘the one.’Still, she’d hung onto him—perhaps selfishly, she could admit now—as she’d needed to lean on someone who wasn’t torn up by grief the way her father, sister, and aunt had been.
But when Marigold became sick soon after her mother died, Brendan had broken things off with Aurelia, declaring it all ‘too much.’She’d been hurt by it, but another, deeper, part of her understood.She’d wanted to say, ‘Right there with you,’ and walk out on herself.It had allfelttoo much—she couldn’t blame him for wanting a relationship with someone who wasn’t wrung out from crying on a daily basis.Now, months after Aunt Marigold’s death, Aurelia was certain she was still too much for someone new to want to take her on.
“I’m not looking for anyone inspiring just yet, Tonia.”
“Well, keep your eyes open while you’re out, anyway.”
Aurelia returned from a walk, clutching a nearly empty coffee cup as if it might still warm her hands.Standing in front of the shop door, she peered through the new glass panel, trying to decide whether it was safe to go in.She’d done the same thing on her way out of the flat as she left for her walk—opened the door a crack and peeked through to confirm the shop was deserted, as it always was on Sundays.Now, putting up a brave front, Aurelia opened the door and walked inside.A light gust of wind blew in behind her, sweeping her hair around her face.She closed the door and turned the lock, then looked around.There was no one there but her.
Hearing a thump above her, she flinched in surprise only to realize it was Fezz hopping down from the window seat.Not a ghost, then.She sighed at her jumpiness, then climbed the spiral staircase to the mezzanine and waited as Fezz made his way toward her.Aurelia smiled and shook her head at his glacial, nonchalant pace, then bent down and rubbed his cheek.
“Desperately missed me as usual, hmm?”
She stood and opened the door to the flat, then watched Fezz scramble up the stairs.Turning back, she looked across the shop, through the mezzanine window, and out to the trees in the small square.She used to love this view, but now—between taking over the shop and losing sleep over her mysterious nightly visitors—she felt trapped, as though she were looking through the bars of a well-appointed cage.
6
Lyinginbedwitha pillow over her head, Aurelia knew the voices were still coming from downstairs, even if she temporarily couldn’t hear them.She’d woken just after two in the morning to their steady prattling.At first, she tried to convince herself that they were simply a group of social ghosts meeting for a chat.Eventually, though, the voices became more distinct, making it harder to tune them out.Whether the product of her own delusions or the paranormal, she decided to get up rather than pretend she could possibly ignore them.She tossed the pillow back onto the bed and stood, pulling on the clothes she’d left on the floor a few hours earlier when she’d changed for bed.
From the top of the stairs, she could hear the voices more clearly.She carried her phone down to the doorway, though she doubted the police would appreciate another call from her.She felt vexed and anxious to be standing here once again, but those feelings were tempered by her memory of the night before.Whoever they were, they hadn’t exactly seemed like the criminal element in their fancy dress.And, despite seeing her on the mezzanine, no one had come toward her or threatened her.
Determined to investigate, she crouched to the ground and slowly opened the door into the shop.She couldn’t see anyone, which meant they must be downstairs again.The lights were on—but were they?Looking up, she could see the bulbs were dark, but there was light coming from somewhere.She couldn’t get a good view of the shop floor from the doorway, so she crawled forward with her phone clutched in her hand.
As she peered through the mezzanine railing, Aurelia could see people standing about and talking to one another.No one noticed her, giving her a chance to take it all in.There were about ten people there, men and women.Once again, they were wearing old-fashioned clothes, complete with cravats, full skirts, and long hemlines.Standing together, they looked like the cast of an Austen or Dickens adaptation and didn’t seem at all concerned about the fact that they were trespassing.Instead, they appeared to feel right at home, just as a group of ghosts might.
Her focus was drawn to a woman in a silk dress with a feather sticking out of her carefully coiffed hair.She was speaking with a man in a black suit who had large mutton-chop whiskers.He was pointing to a book on the Recommended Reads table and then moved his hand as if to pick it up.Only—his hand went right through it, turning into a white mist with what looked like black dots running across it… or were they letters?He pulled his arm back, shaking his head and chuckling as the mist reformed into his hand once again.
Aurelia couldn’t contain her gasp of surprise, which was loud enough to turn several heads in her direction.The woman in silk gave her an inquisitive smile and Aurelia, panic-stricken at being spotted, crawled backward, bumped into the doorframe, then got behind the door and quickly locked it.
Ghosts, she told herself, remembering the misty hand as though it were being projected right in front of her.Definitely ghosts.
She leaned against the door with her head thrown back and legs splayed out.It was then that she realized she’d left her phone on the floor of the shop, near the railing.She covered her face with her hands and then slowly lowered them.Even if she’d had it with her, what on earth would she say to the police this time?‘I’m calling to report a haunting’?
7
WhenAureliawokethenext morning, it was because of pain instead of her alarm.She was curled into a ball at the bottom of the stairwell and had to slowly unwind her limbs and stretch them out before she could stand up.
She’d fallen asleep listening to the voices coming through from the other side of the door, fascinated by the bits of conversation she could make out as their volume rose and fell.There was a heated discussion about whether the Royal Navy could continue to outmaneuver Napoleon and excited theorizing about what type of sleeves would be popular in the coming season.It wasn’t exactly the stuff of current affairs.Still, once Aurelia had gotten over her initial panic, she’d almost enjoyed hearing the voices transition from the annoying noise that had kept her awake at night, to conversations between people with unique personalities and points of view.
The vaporizing hand had dispelled Aurelia’s fear of intruders once and for all.She was now almost certain they were ghosts, but so many?In one shop?She’d heard of one ghost haunting a place before, but a whole crowd?She tried to think if there was anyone she could confide in but felt certain that everyone she knew would likely say the same thing—her imagination was running wild because of too much time spent alone, too much time reading books, too little time spent processing her recent losses… And maybe they’d be right.
Aurelia focused on the routine of her morning to distract herself from thoughts of ghosts and hauntings.Moderately alert after breakfast and a shower, she headed down the stairs that led to the shop and stopped at the bottom to pull an oversized cardigan from a peg on the wall.Slipping her arms into the sleeves, she hesitated for a moment and then pushed open the door.All was quiet below.
She picked up her phone from where she’d left it on the floor, then headed downstairs and went into the back room to make tea.Pulling a box from a shelf, she found a single teabag left inside, but she’d need two this morning since she was expecting a visitor.She poked around the shelf and countertop, then bent down to rummage through the cabinets.At last, she wrapped her hand around a likely box at the back of a cabinet and pulled it out.It was tea, but there was a small note attached to it, scrawled out in her aunt’s handwriting:Marigold’s tea!Consume at your own peril.
Aurelia laughed, remembering their battles over whose turn it was to buy tea.She’d been convinced that Marigold had a secret stash somewhere, and she’d finally found it.But then her smile wavered, giving way to tears, and she was lost in missing her aunt.
When she heard the click of the electric kettle switching off, the water now ready, Aurelia knew she had to pull herself together.She’d need to open the shop soon and couldn’t greet customers with tears streaming down her face, so she ran up to the flat to sort herself out.Once she was mostly back to normal, she grabbed a half-empty box of tea—one that wouldn’t make her cry—and slumped back down the stairs, willing herself to put on a brave face.
Tea made, she left one mug at the desk and carried the other with her as she moved to the front of the shop.Pausing at the Recommended Reads table, she placed her hand on each stack of books, almost believing a mist might appear.But no—she was as solid as ever, as were the books.
Sighing, she moved to the front windows and raised the blinds, then unlocked the door and opened it, taking in the morning.It was cool enough to see a few wisps of her breath as she exhaled.Aurelia felt her sadness ebb as the chilly air brushed her skin and she watched the square come to life.She waved to a neighbor passing on the other side of the street, then retreated inside with her shoulders hunched and her hands wrapped around her mug for warmth.
Her phone rang from where she’d tucked it in her pocket and she jumped, nearly spilling her tea.As she walked to the desk, Aurelia pulled her phone out and saw it was David, one of her oldest friends.She answered as she leaned against the desk to watch for customers.
“Why aren’t you at school?”she asked, knowing his days usually started early since he taught history at a local secondary school.
“Good morning to you too,” he said, his voice muffled.“And Iamat school—I’m in between classes, so I can’t talk long, but I wanted to check on you.”
