Page 4 of Dancing with a Ghost

"Vanilla and tobacco. There it is again. Where is it coming from? Knowing my luck, I’m being haunted by a ghost.” He laughed before sitting up and leaning over to me, breathing in deeply again. He wouldn’t be able to feel me, not unless I wanted him to, so I didn’t worry.

I knew the aroma was me. I'd smoked when I was alive, but the vanilla, I didn't quite know where that came from.

Taking comfort in his closeness, I finally felt able to rest and closed my eyes. Toby would be fine. The wedding was in a week's time, and I knew he had it under control. He was organised, methodical, and it would go off without a hitch, as every other one he’d done before had, despite his mother’s interference.

“And here I am talking to myself again!” he continued. “Mother will have me committed, especially if I tell her about the moving vase! Oh God. What if it was a ghost?”

I listened to his ramblings, a small smile on my face. He’d have a fit when he realised it actually was a ghost, but if I wanted to leave this plane of existence, I had to make that connection and that would mean more energy spent. I just hope it wasn’t my last, and that I hadn’t left it too late.

Drifting off, I thought of all the things we could do together and that gave me renewed hope that all would be well. A day or so, that was all I needed. Then I’d start again with a vengeance. This had to work. I wasn’t ready to give up.

The next time I awoke, I was on my own, Toby nowhere to be found as darkness filled the room.

I felt better, marginally. It was taking longer and longer for my energy to recharge. My time was near. I knew it. I'd felt resigned to the fact that I'd find no one. The connection I was supposed to find to keep me here had never appeared until now. Until Toby. I was fighting to hang on, to forge that bond with him so my life, or my 'death', wouldn't have been in vain.

Sister Mary was her name. I remembered that now. She'd treated all the servicemen that had been injured in crashes such as my own in the hospital, and one by one, most had disappeared. Then that fateful night, she'd approached me, whispered words in my ear, words I couldn't remember. Maybe they'd come back to me, maybe they wouldn't. The whys and wherefores didn't matter. It was all semantics now. I was here, in this place and time, and there was nothing I could do to change the past.

I sat up, a little disorientated. Had I missed the wedding? I didn't think so. I rarely slept for more than a day or so and I didn't hear the telltale thump of music that usually accompanied those kinds of events.

I preferred the daytime ones. Conferences, they called them. They were usually quiet affairs, full of men and women in suits and while they wore their best bib and tucker at the weddings, they were noisy, full of drunk people. I detested them, usually taking myself off into the hotel grounds until they were over and life at the hotel returned to some sort of normality.

This wedding wouldn't be any different, but the need to stick closer to Toby was increasing. The further I was away from him, the more I needed to rest and the less I could do. Not that I needed to do much other than show myself to him, get him to notice me, and try to strengthen that bond.

For now, I'd take myself back to the ward where I'd 'died' and wait for my chance.

Chapter Three

Toby

Overthenextfewdays, the image of the moving vase replayed in my mind long after the event. How had it moved on its own? I had to admit, there’d been a few anomalies lately, thinking back to the door opening and my papers disappearing.

I could explain them away as natural; a window left open, an errant gust of wind, but somehow, I didn’t think that was right.

Remembering the word in my ear as I was about to speak, the chuckle I heard as the vase dropped, that was no illusion. That was something going on. Something super creepy.

Not having time to dwell on it now, I vowed to investigate as soon as the wedding was over. I'd so much to do. As much as mother loved to take the credit, she hated doing the hard work; dealing with the caterers, the live band, and the guests.

The wedding party had settled in, having arrived a day early. Tabitha had sought me out, telling me what she wanted, drawings of the room, the garden, anything to remind her of her day. I didn't do portraits, and my landscapes were passable, but she seemed to understand that and was happy.

For all my original thoughts about her, she was a sweet girl and Jeremy seemed to love her, dote on her, even.

And now it was the wedding day. It wasn't a cheap do, running into tens of thousands of pounds. They had the best caterers, serving lobster, caviar, expensive desserts with edible 24-carat gold leaf. The champagne bill alone was astronomical, and the free bar this evening would be enough to run a small country.

It was almost time. The guests filing in, taking their places on the white chairs either side of the aisle that led to a flower covered arch; exotic blooms mixing with the more traditional roses and lilies. It all lent to the theme; a wedding in paradise. Dress code was smart beachwear and most had turned up wearing linen suits, much the same as the pale blue one I wore. The groom wore white linen trousers with a short-sleeved lilac shirt, a white orchid as his buttonhole.

He looked good. I'd give him that. I wasn't looking for a 'daddy' but if I was and he was gay, I wouldn't kick him out of bed. His silver hair skimming the collar of his shirt shouldn't look sexy, but on him it looked good. Think David Ginola. Now there was a blast from the past, one of the best looking French football players to ever walk the earth.

Lost in my daydream, another blast from the past, one not so welcome, spoke from behind me.

"Well, well. How the mighty have fallen." I whirled around, looking straight into the smug face of Aaron Cooper. An old flame I never wanted to see again.

We'd been together for a few months, but nothing had ever come of it, thank goodness. He was a smart arse banker that had dumped me unceremoniously when my dance studio business had crumbled, and I was no longer the catch he thought I was going to be.

I schooled my expression of disgust to welcome. He was a guest here, after all.

"Aaron, how lovely to see you! Bride or groom?" I gestured to either side of the aisle. Left for the bride, right, for the groom.

"Tabs and I go waaay back." He replied, "so I'll be on this side. Pity that fiance of hers is straight. Imagine what we could do with him." He nudged me with his elbow and I stepped out of his reach, his words not exactly quiet.

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