The Ghost Who Fed Them Bones by Tim Roux Page A

my Papa that I had real y wanted al my life, and I was enjoying my power over him for a change, so I was concentrating on that. Then, yes, I couldn’t breathe, so I was panicking, then frantic, then desperate, and I evacuated everything out of my bowels. After that it was al right. I was dead. That real y crucified my Papa when he realised that I was dead. He cried and cried, and picked me up and kissed me over and over again, tel ing me how much he loved me, and had always loved me, and would always love me, and he was so, so, sorry for what he had just done, and he hadn’t meant to do it, and what could he do to undo it? Then he lifted me into the passenger seat of our car and drove me to Montauban, which took hours and hours, and al the way he apologised to me, and prayed for my soul, and worried what would happen to me, what he would say to Maman, whether she would ever find out. I was terrified he would have an accident. He wasn’t in any state to concentrate on the road at al .
    He nearly drove into several cars and even a couple of trees, swerving around. It was a miracle he wasn’t stopped by the police. Perhaps he wanted to be stopped by the police, but I didn’t want him to be. I wanted him to get away with it. After al , it was more than partly my fault, and he is stil my papa. So we got to this copse near Montauban, and he pul ed over, and he carried me out, and he dug my grave with his bare hands. Luckily for him it had been raining, so the ground was softer than usual, but I am sure that he would have done the same even if it had been al rocks. He didn’t care. He just wanted to give me a true burial, with love. He apologised al over again for kil ing me, and for the fact that I was not being laid to rest on sanctified ground near my ancestors, and he hoped that my soul would rest in peace. Then he said that he was going back to kil Mary for what she had made me do. That sort of spoiled the effect. I prayed very hard that he wouldn’t, and in the end he didn’t because I saw her again here, but he did try to lay the blame on her and Julia, got the whole vil age marching up here to take revenge, worked everyone up around their prejudices against women first and foremost, and then about the disgusting sexual practices of lesbians. Then Julia and Mary hit them in the crutch with boiling oil, and Julia rather unexpectedly pul ed out a gun and gave every impression of knowing exactly how to use it and where, and al the stupid cowards of the vil age ran home again, back to the wives they despise, and the daughters they real y want to fuck themselves (except the plainer ones, and even them sometimes) but know they aren’t al owed to, and back to their miserable bigoted lives, ready to plan to do something to Mary and Julia the next day, except that they packed and fled. And I have been alone here ever since.”
    “Do you have to stay in this house? I have never met a ghost outside.”
    “No, I can go outside. I can go anywhere I like. It is just that you cannot real y see us out in the sunshine. We are too faint.
    I go to see Maman quite often. She is very sad. She remembers me every day, and she cries every day too, often several times. Poor Maman. And Papa prays for me too, and tel s me how much he loves me, and wishes we could start again. It is tragic to watch, it real y is. If I could cry, I would too. I wish Julia and Mary would come back to find me. I am so lonely. I have nothing to do except to watch people, and I cannot sleep. I see a few interesting things wandering around Freyargues, lots of things I am never meant to see, lots of secret affairs and dishonest deals, the odd fight, but it gets less and less entertaining, and more and more tedious. I am so bored. I real y need a friend. Wil you be my friend, Paul?”
    I smile. “Of course I wil , Alice. I’l cal round every day, or you can come over to Valflaunès.”
    “Thank you, but I would rather stay here. I belong here in this vil