The Midnight Train (The Midnight World, #2)(55)

Maggie, caught in the middle, just stared at the salt and pepper pots and pleaded: ‘Wilbur, please, go easy. Your mam’s upset.’

‘Oh,’ said Edith, ‘I know how it is. I know he wants to be on every high street in England rather than the Ecclesall Road.’

‘Edith, I think that’s a bit far—’

‘A bit far? Yes, it is. Two miles away and he still can’t drive down it or see it or anything else. But it’s still there, just as it was in sixty-four.’

Wilbur stared at the clock on the wall. The one with pointed rays sticking out from the circumference, designed to make it look like an exploding star, surrounded by the yellow, orange and brown striped wallpaper. His mother had only been there for fifty minutes and it already felt like a lifetime.

‘Do we have to talk about Dougie right now?’

Edith sighed. ‘No, no. No. We don’t ever have to talk about him. What about that?’

‘Mam,’ Wilbur said through a clenched jaw, ‘you have to move on.’

‘Ah yes, move on. Move on. That’s what the world is about nowadays. Moving on. It’s like the council. Oh, they could have rebuilt the city after Hitler’s destruction, but, no, no, they just fill it with concrete nonsense and those ugly underpasses. But it’s no better in London, lad. That’s the home of it. All those ugly tower blocks.’

‘Mam, I’m not moving for the architecture.’

‘No, I know. Well, it’s funny.’

Maggie tried to be a neutral voice amid the tension. ‘What’s funny?’

‘Oh, well, love, I actually came round feeling a little bit awkward about my news.’

Wilbur raised his eyebrows. ‘News?’

His dreaming, honeymoon self was also curious. ‘News?’

The Ghost nodded. ‘Oh yes. Just wait till you hear this …’





Edith’s News


‘At least I won’t be so lonely, when you do go.’

‘Oh dear,’ said Maggie, in soft anticipation, while sawing at a slightly overdone roast potato.

‘Yes, Mam,’ said Wilbur, still agitated and full of tension. ‘What is it? Come on, spill the beans.’

‘Well, it’s been thirty years since your dad died. And that is a very long time. I think I have respected his memory enough to come out of the shadows and not feel ashamed of having a companion.’

The Wilbur who was asleep in 1974 and the one who was awake in 1976 both said the same thing: ‘What kind of companion?’

‘A gentleman. A very nice man. Who I have known for a long time.’

Maggie made wide eyes. ‘Ooh, Edith, you dark horse. Do we know him?’

‘Aye. Well, Wilbur does. Or thinks he does. And I’m sure he’ll have his opinions on the matter.’

‘Who is it, Mam?’

‘It’s Cecil.’

‘Cecil? I’ve never heard of a Cecil. Who on earth is Cecil?’

And then she said it. ‘You know. Cecil Parkin.’

The Ghost looked at the shared confusion of the other Wilburs. The dreaming one just as furious as the living one.

‘Mr Parkin? Our old landlord? But he’s an awful man,’ spat the living Wilbur. ‘You always told us he was an awful man.’

‘Bloody Parkin! Dougie was right about him,’ said the Dreamer.

‘Was he though?’ wondered the Ghost.

‘He’s not an awful man,’ continued Edith. ‘I mean, I didn’t like him much at first. I was quick to judge. He was doing a job. But he was always a gentleman really. He let me off payments from time to time.’

‘I bet he did.’

‘No. Nothing like that. He’s kind. He looks after me, and he takes me out. And he is generous.’

‘Aye, well, he’s generous from raising every rent on Glossop Road. So he owes you that generosity. Dougie had his number.’

‘Oh, you’re bringing Dougie into it now, Wilbur?’

‘Aye, well, why not?’

‘He paid for Dougie’s funeral. Did you ever know that? He donated to the hospital too after the fire.’

‘How long have you been together?’

‘Oh, an interrogation. Such interest for someone moving two hundred miles across the country.’

‘How long, Mam?’

‘I have liked him for many years. I just didn’t want to confuse you about things. He’s proposed—’

‘Mam, it’s ridiculous. You’ve made yourself look ridiculous.’

Maggie threw Wilbur a heated stare. ‘Wilbur, don’t talk to your mam like that. Can we all just try and be civil and have a nice Sunday meal?’

‘A very good idea,’ said the Ghost. ‘And completely ignored. I was such a hot-tempered fool …’

‘—and I accepted his proposal,’ finished Edith.

The room hung with the news. Wilbur was clenching so hard they could see his jaw move.

‘Don’t worry, Maggie. I don’t want to get in the way any longer. I think I should go now.’

‘Jesus Christ, Mam.’

‘I’m sorry, Mam,’ said the Ghost, feeling something like tears in his eyes, while the Dreamer stood beside him, lost for words.