“What?”
She says ominously, “I think something is troubling you.”
I blink. “I don’t mean to be rude, but that seems obvious.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not speaking about the loss of your husband, dear.”
“O…kay. Then what are you talking about?”
“Well, I don’t exactly know. But if there’s anything you’d like to get off your chest, I’m here for you. I’m a very good listener.”
I stare into her piercing blue eyes and wonder what the fuck she’s talking about. “Um…”
Leaning forward, she prompts, “Has anything unusual happened lately? In the house, I mean.”
All the hairs on my arms prickle. A tiny shiver of fear runs over my skin.
“Yes, I can see that it has,” she says softly. “Why don’t we talk about that?”
My heart decides now would be a good time to do some acrobatics. My stomach follows suit and twists into a tight knot. My mouth goes dry, my hands tremble, and a high-pitched buzzing noise rings in my ears.
I whisper, “How did you know?”
Her smile is gentle. “I grew up with this kind of thing. Ghosts are quite common in the old country. Scotland is one of the most haunted places in the world.”
I blink again, sure I’ve misheard. Outside, another clap of thunder rolls through the sky, rattling the windows. An odd pressure builds in the room, a friction, as if the air itself has become charged.
“Excuse me, but did you just say ghosts?”
“Quite so, my dear.”
I sit back in my chair, laughing a little. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
She gazes at me steadily. “What you believe is immaterial, Kayla. Because ghosts most definitely believe in you.”
Rain begins to fall, pattering softly against the kitchen windowpanes. Drops slide down the glass like tears.
When I don’t say anything, Fiona fills the silence.
“Let me give you a few examples, then you can tell me if I’m off my rocker, as your expression suggests. Have you recently been hearing strange noises? Like creaking floorboards, for instance? Have you felt unusual cold drafts? Had the eerie sense you were being watched but no one was there?”
I swallow. It’s becoming difficult to draw a breath. The high-pitched ringing in my ears grows louder.
“What about strange problems with electricity? Flickering lights, exploding bulbs, the telly turning itself on or off?”
“It’s an old house. It has lots of problems.”
Blowing right past that, she continues her assault on my sanity.
“Perhaps you’ve been having strange dreams. Maybe objects are being moved, appearing in places other than where you put them.”
She must catch something in my expression, because she leans closer. “Books falling off shelves? Furniture rearranging itself in the middle of the night?”
My voice faint, I say, “A jar of honey flew out of the cupboard on its own. A coin I put in one place showed up in another. And all the kitchen drawers and cupboards were standing wide open in the morning one day when I came down.”
She nods solemnly. “What about strange scents? Perfumes or strong odors? Any of that?”
I think of the odd burning smell when I run the dryer, the smell Eddie couldn’t find a source to—or any of the other electrical problems in the house—and feel as if I might jump right out of my skin.
When the kettle on the stove whistles, I do jump. Suddenly, I’m scared witless.
Fiona rises from her chair, gets two mugs from a cabinet, and pours hot water into both. The tea bags go in next, then she sets one of the mugs in front of me and sits back down across from me.
As if she hasn’t just given me an aneurysm, she says, “It would be proper with a drop of milk, but I’ve gone lactose intolerant in my old age. Would you like some?”
I barely manage a shake of my head.
“Now, now, dear, please don’t be frightened. I know being haunted is a bit much for our twenty-first century minds to deal with, but we’ll get through it together.”
Maybe I’m still asleep. Maybe this is just a bad dream. Maybe all that wine I had yesterday went to my head and killed more than the usual amount of brain cells.
Ever the practical one, Fiona turns businesslike. “What we need is a séance.”
I say flatly, “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, the federal tax rate is ridiculous. This is simply a situation that needs to be remedied.” She sips her tea and makes a yummy noise. “As soon as possible, I might add. The longer a spirit is trapped in this dimension, the greater the odds it will never be able to move on.”