Walking with Ghosts

Floating away to that dream state between living and dying. There is so little of substance in your world, Dora. You are like a spirit.
    When you began sleeping with Sam the world was still made of iron and steel. That inner smile fills you when you remember how he called you Donna in the mornings. When he was tucked in that space between sleeping and waking, you would feel his arm snaking around you, pulling your body close to his. Then he would say, ‘Donna, Donna,’ and you’d snuggle up closer to him as if you were her. His dead wife from long ago.
    You didn’t mind, Dora. You knew he loved you. He could call you anything he liked, so long as love was there.
    You and your Sam. You were ravenous, voracious. Those first weeks and months you were always hungry together. Always eating, and yet never satisfied. What do they call it, that open-mouthed hunger and thirst which is unquenchable? For ever eager, burning, and yet for ever unsated?
    You couldn’t remember the word, because you’d never experienced it before. But Sam knew. Didn’t even have to think about it.
    ‘Lust,’ he said with a laugh your mother would have called obscene.
     

36
     
    Dear Sam Turner,
    Just a note of thanks for allowing me to sit in on the investigation. I would have liked to thank you personally, but I understand that you are indisposed because of your wife’s health.
    The information I need for my next novel does not necessitate my spending more time on research, and I feel that I have been less than professional in allowing myself to become emotionally involved with one of your operatives.
    In the circumstances it is in everyone’s interest that I withdraw without further delay.
    If in the future I can repay you in any way for your kindness, please do not hesitate to contact me.
    Yours sincerely,
    J. D. Pears
     

37
     
    Geordie picked up the phone and listened. ‘Yes, it’s me,’ he said. He listened some more, nodding as he did so, at the same time keeping his eyes fixed on Janet. If he didn’t know he wouldn’t have been able to tell she was pregnant. Not from looking at her, and not from running his hands over her stomach, or putting his ear right up close. Doctors could only tell because they had all the gear, and they could calculate when it would be born to the day, as long as the woman knew when was the last day of her period. And the other thing they could tell by sound waves and computers, was, they could tell if it was a boy or a girl. But Janet and him didn’t want to know.
    They wanted to guess.
    He put the phone down.
    ‘Who was that?’
    ‘Marie. I’ve got to go out.’
    ‘Trouble?’
    He shook his head. ‘I hope not. Marie thinks she’s being followed.’
    ‘What about her boyfriend? J.D.? I’ve cooked us a meal. It’s nearly ready, Geordie.’
    ‘J.D. and her have fallen out.’
    ‘Why? Last time I looked they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.’
    ‘Dunno. They prolly didn’t look long enough before they leapt. Far as I can tell she’s told him to commit sodomy with himself.’
    Janet laughed. ‘And Sam?’
    ‘He’s with Dora. They’ve had to call in the doctor.’
    ‘Yeah. And it’s your case.’
    ‘Mine and Marie’s. Yeah, we said we’d take it on. I’m sorry, Janet. I’d rather be here with you.’
    ‘But you’ve got to go.’ She followed him into the alcove by the front door, watched as he put on his leather jacket. He embraced her, felt her arms slip beneath the jacket and her fingers knead the flesh on his back. ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I can slow the cooking down. It’ll be ready in about an hour. If you’re not back by then I’ll get a taxi and bring the whole lot to Marie’s house.’
    ‘Can’t wait,’ he said, ‘I’m starving,’ and he kissed both of her eyes. Janet didn’t always let him do that. Sometimes she’d say it made her feel like a doll, and she didn’t like feeling like a doll.
    He opened the door and went out, looked back twice at Janet standing there watching him go. The third time he looked back she’d gone inside and closed the door. Barney went into someone’s garden and Geordie whistled for him.
    There were many things Geordie didn’t understand about women. And that thing about feeling like a doll if somebody kissed you on your eyes was one of them. Seemed unreasonable somehow, kissing eyes was something important in life, that shouldn’t be denied. He’d talk to Sam about it, see what the great thinker thought.