committing suicide.”
“That is what her father says – the guy downstairs.”
“He is her father?”
“Yes.”
“I never knew. Wil you apologise to him for me for my cruel thoughts. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but now I know that he is Julia’s father … ”
I pul a face. “I am sorry. I am afraid that I am pretending not to be able to speak to ghosts, but I’l try to get the message to him somehow, perhaps via Mike.”
“Is that Mike downstairs?”
“Yes, he is my brother.”
She grins. “He seems real y lovely.”
“He is.”
The conversation stal s for a second.
“So,” she says, twirling slightly, “you found me.”
“So I did.”
“And what do you think?”
“You are very beautiful.”
“Thank you. Do you like ghosts?”
“No, mostly they real y annoy me. They’re usual y mean and cruel.”
She mouths a 'boff'. “It is very frustrating being a ghost, I can tel you. I keep wondering what is happening to me, and nobody knows, or they pretend not to know, and there is nobody to ask. Do you know?”
“No. I can’t say that I do, except that you are probably loitering around for a bit until you are released into the light. I can try to do that for you, if you wish …. ”
“I’l think about it. How long would I have to stay around in order to disappear natural y?”
“I can’t tel you. The ghosts I have met haven’t had it happen to them yet, and the ones to whom it presumably has aren’t around for me to meet them. Most of them only seem to linger for a year or two, but I’ve met a couple who have been stuck for hundreds of years on the earth. They tend to be real y tense. Actual y, I thought you were one of those the other day.”
She frowns. “I have already said that I am sorry. What more do you want?”
“Are those your body parts that keep turning up?”
She hesitates, embarrassed. “Yes. I had to get the old man’s attention somehow. I have tried being nice to lots of tenants, but none of them has noticed me, so I thought I would make a less ambiguous gesture.”
“Where are they coming from?”
“They aren’t real body parts. They are simulacra. The real ones are stil buried in the Tarn et Garonne, in a wood near Montauban, where my father buried me.”
“So, it was your father who kil ed you, was it?
“Yes, Papa kil ed me.”
“Why?”
“He lost his temper. He was angry with me. He didn’t like me being with Mary, the woman I ran off with. Didn’t like lesbians. So I retaliated by taunting him, saying how much I was enjoying it; that sex was much nicer with women than with men who are al clumsy and arrogant and pushy and messy. Why would I want that? I went on and on, and he got crosser and crosser. He always got cross, did Papa, usual y at Maman, but sometimes at me too. I was fed up with his physical and emotional bul ying of us because when he lost his temper entirely, it usual y ended in a beating for either Maman, or me, or my brother. I knew I was pushing him too far, but it al came out. How I hated the life in Freyrargues, how I knew al about his sordid affair with Marguerite de Bel etier, and that Florent is my step-brother, and it was time Maman and Thibault, my brother, learnt al about that, not to mention M. de Bel etier and the whole vil age. He said ‘You wouldn’t do that, Alice,’ and I sensed his fear so I said ‘Yes, I wil , I’l do it tomorrow. I’l phone Maman to tel her, and then we’l see what a self-righteous prick you are.’ So he grabbed me, only to make a point, I think, but I goaded him again, saying, ‘That’s right, hit me, like you always do, use your brains - your fists or your dick.’ I think he thought that I was chal enging him to fuck me, and he got real y mad and grabbed my throat instead, and he found he couldn’t stop. He kept throttling me until I was dead.”
“That must have been real y frightening.”
“Towards the end, yes, because I couldn’t breathe, but I was also in a fight with
“That is what her father says – the guy downstairs.”
“He is her father?”
“Yes.”
“I never knew. Wil you apologise to him for me for my cruel thoughts. I didn’t mean to hurt him, but now I know that he is Julia’s father … ”
I pul a face. “I am sorry. I am afraid that I am pretending not to be able to speak to ghosts, but I’l try to get the message to him somehow, perhaps via Mike.”
“Is that Mike downstairs?”
“Yes, he is my brother.”
She grins. “He seems real y lovely.”
“He is.”
The conversation stal s for a second.
“So,” she says, twirling slightly, “you found me.”
“So I did.”
“And what do you think?”
“You are very beautiful.”
“Thank you. Do you like ghosts?”
“No, mostly they real y annoy me. They’re usual y mean and cruel.”
She mouths a 'boff'. “It is very frustrating being a ghost, I can tel you. I keep wondering what is happening to me, and nobody knows, or they pretend not to know, and there is nobody to ask. Do you know?”
“No. I can’t say that I do, except that you are probably loitering around for a bit until you are released into the light. I can try to do that for you, if you wish …. ”
“I’l think about it. How long would I have to stay around in order to disappear natural y?”
“I can’t tel you. The ghosts I have met haven’t had it happen to them yet, and the ones to whom it presumably has aren’t around for me to meet them. Most of them only seem to linger for a year or two, but I’ve met a couple who have been stuck for hundreds of years on the earth. They tend to be real y tense. Actual y, I thought you were one of those the other day.”
She frowns. “I have already said that I am sorry. What more do you want?”
“Are those your body parts that keep turning up?”
She hesitates, embarrassed. “Yes. I had to get the old man’s attention somehow. I have tried being nice to lots of tenants, but none of them has noticed me, so I thought I would make a less ambiguous gesture.”
“Where are they coming from?”
“They aren’t real body parts. They are simulacra. The real ones are stil buried in the Tarn et Garonne, in a wood near Montauban, where my father buried me.”
“So, it was your father who kil ed you, was it?
“Yes, Papa kil ed me.”
“Why?”
“He lost his temper. He was angry with me. He didn’t like me being with Mary, the woman I ran off with. Didn’t like lesbians. So I retaliated by taunting him, saying how much I was enjoying it; that sex was much nicer with women than with men who are al clumsy and arrogant and pushy and messy. Why would I want that? I went on and on, and he got crosser and crosser. He always got cross, did Papa, usual y at Maman, but sometimes at me too. I was fed up with his physical and emotional bul ying of us because when he lost his temper entirely, it usual y ended in a beating for either Maman, or me, or my brother. I knew I was pushing him too far, but it al came out. How I hated the life in Freyrargues, how I knew al about his sordid affair with Marguerite de Bel etier, and that Florent is my step-brother, and it was time Maman and Thibault, my brother, learnt al about that, not to mention M. de Bel etier and the whole vil age. He said ‘You wouldn’t do that, Alice,’ and I sensed his fear so I said ‘Yes, I wil , I’l do it tomorrow. I’l phone Maman to tel her, and then we’l see what a self-righteous prick you are.’ So he grabbed me, only to make a point, I think, but I goaded him again, saying, ‘That’s right, hit me, like you always do, use your brains - your fists or your dick.’ I think he thought that I was chal enging him to fuck me, and he got real y mad and grabbed my throat instead, and he found he couldn’t stop. He kept throttling me until I was dead.”
“That must have been real y frightening.”
“Towards the end, yes, because I couldn’t breathe, but I was also in a fight with
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