Fourteen Days by Steven Jenkins Page B

to mention the ghost. Just pick her brain about the previous owners. She’ll probably be grateful for the visit.”
    Mulling over the idea, he sat back. But then he shook his head. “No. It’s not happening. It’s stupid. I don’t believe in ghosts.”
    “Are you sure about that? Sounds to me that you’re in denial, that you’re afraid to admit it.”
    “Look, I admit that I almost wet my pants when I saw her—it. And I admit that things have been a little strange around here. But the idea of having a real-life ghost in my house is too laughable. I mean, come on, Karen, things like this don’t happen. Not to me. And not in my house.”
    Karen finished her tea and set the cup down on the floor. “Look, whether you believe it or not, you just need to know that if it is a ghost, she probably doesn’t mean you any harm. You could always ask her what she wants, or even ask her to leave.”
    He sniggered. “Ask her to leave? Yeah, I’m sure she’ll listen.”
    “Just try it if anything else happens here. What have you got to lose?”
    “My dignity for one. I’d look like a complete dick asking a ghost to leave my house.”
    “No one’s going to hear.”
    “I’ll hear though.” He got up from the couch and walked toward the door. “Look, Karen, I know you’re trying to help, but I’m fine. I’m just tired. It’ll pass in a few days. And I’ll be back to work in no time. Then I can put all this stupidity behind me.”
    “All right, Rich. But remember what I said. And you can call me if you want to ask something. Oh, and give Nic a shout for me. She’s probably outside the door listening.”
    “You mean laughing.”
    He opened the door to find the hallway empty. “Nicky!” he called out. “I’m done. You can have your friend back now!”

    Richard was lying in bed as his wife slept next to him. The dread he felt earlier had subsided. He wasn’t sure whether it was the presence of Nicky, or in fact his conversation with Karen. Either way he felt a lot better.
    It’s all bogus nonsense , he thought as he stared up at the glass light fixture . Of course she’s going to say that my house is haunted — she’s a bloody hippy-witch. Yeah, some of what she said seemed plausible, but going over to Ilene’s to investigate a dead woman—no freaking chance. No, it’s just sheer boredom and coincidence. Nothing else. No ghosts. No demons. And no strange goings-on. Just an ordinary house in Bristol.
    Time to focus my energy on normal things. Important things.
    He turned to face Nicky. He listened to the sound of her gentle breath as she lay facing him. It made him happy. Then the feelings of guilt he had experienced on Friday resurfaced. How could he spend so much time away from home, away from her? What could she have thought of him? Did she think that he didn’t love her, that he would rather spend his time slaving away at the office? Or what if she thought he was sleeping with one of his work colleagues? Maybe even Leah? After all, she did blame Leah for all the long hours, even though it was his persistence that kept him working overtime.
    Turning to her, he smiled. I’m going to make it up to her. When I’m back on my feet, things are gonna change. I promise. No more long hours. I’ll be a new man. A better man . He reached forward and placed his hand on her lower back. But as he made contact, she mumbled something inaudible in her sleep, making him smile again, pushing away his guilty conscience. Trying to make out what she was saying, he leaned in close. Her words were nothing but gibberish, so he gave up and moved away. But as he did, he could faintly hear a sentence form.
    “ Have you seen my baby ?”
    His heart almost stopped with fear. Leaning in close once again, he waited for her to say something else. “Nicky?” he whispered. “Are you awake?” With no reply he turned and lay on his back. How could she know about my dream? Did I tell her? Or Karen? No, I didn’t. I’m sure of it.