No One Wants to Be Miss Havisham. Brigid Coady
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I’ll wait,” he assured him.
And as time went on the waiter’s attitude changed to one of pity.
Who the hell had the audacity to stand him up? Just look at him! She thought.
His phone rang and even the shock of seeing how phones had changed didn’t disturb her as much as the thought he’d been left alone.
“I hope he gives the silly cow what for,” she said, "I mean look at all the trouble he went to."
“Shug, where are you?” his face bright and eager.
Shug.
That was his name for her, short for ‘sugar’ because he said she was as sweet as it. It tugged at her heart and exploded in her brain.
She was the one he was waiting for.
“Not going to make it at all?” his face fell. No, it crumpled. His whole body seemed to curl in on itself. Like the air had been let out of him.
“No, no I understand. Your work is important and if Hilary needs you to stay, you have to. Yes, I know how much she’s done for you. I’ll see you at home. I lo…” he winced at the sound of a dropped phone, which even Edie could hear from where she sat.
“I love you.” He whispered to the dialling tone.
Edie’s vision blurred.
“Would sir like to order?” the pitiful gaze of the waiter was again on him.
“Yeah, I’ll have a double gin and tonic and take back the champagne. We won’t be needing it.”
As Tom stared dejectedly at the table his hand crept to his right hand pocket. Dipping in, he brought a small object up to the table.
A small, black velvet ring box.
No. Edie’s stomach flexed like it had taken a prize fighting punch.
He flipped the lid and there nestled on white satin was the most perfect ring she had ever seen. Small and discreet, not expensive or showy but it wouldn’t have mattered because it would’ve have come from Tom and that was enough.
“No,” she mouthed.
“What was so important that you forgot it was your anniversary of your first kiss? What was so urgent that you couldn't make time for him? What blinded you to your life that you didn’t know that Tom was going to propose?” The Ghost was implacable. Each question fell on Edie like physical blows.
“But we were busy, the Agnew divorce was complex and it was all hands to the pump. It was that work that got me the promotion. Hilary, Ms Satis, she told me I had to focus. That work would never let me down, that it wouldn’t cheat on you. And he knew I wanted to do well. Always be the best you can be, he knew that. But he never said. If he’d said…” she faded out.
“If he’d said that would you have come?” the Ghost asked.
Would she? Would she have wanted to be married so young? She wasn’t sure. Maybe a few years before she would have but then… then she was clawing her way up the ladder and getting married would have gotten in the way.
“We could have had a long engagement?” she said hopefully.
“Edie, you cheated on him. And you cheated on yourself. And you still are."
And with a twirl of flowers and pink glitter the Ghost, Tom, the perfect ring and Luigi’s restaurant vanished.
Edie was alone at last in her cold and empty bed.
Sunlight streaked in the window and struck Edie in the eye. It had drawn its bow and unleashed it right on target.
She groaned. She felt like she’d drunk a crate of wine and then gone five rounds with Mike Tyson. What had happened?
The scent of jasmine, sweet pea and roses was still in the air.
The Ghost.
Edie sat bolt upright in bed.
A Ghost had visited her, just as Jessica had promised. This was actually happening. She started to shake. People like her didn’t get haunted. In much the same way people like her didn’t turn into vampires or go to séances. It just wasn’t done.
There was no logical reason she could come up with to explain it, though. Even if someone had managed to invent some sort of very high-end interactive experience it couldn’t explain what happened. There were things that were shown to her last night that no one else could have known.
She was going mad.
She stopped shaking.
Yes, she was going mad. That was much easier to deal with than hauntings. Obviously she was overworked and needed a good rest or something. Or some pills. Maybe an extended stay at a health farm. Odd that being mad made her feel better. As if she'd regained some control.
She swung her feet out of the bed.
They were grass stained and muddy.
She began to shake again. She looked closer; a pink heart-shaped piece of confetti was stuck to the little toe of her right foot.
Mad. Crazy. Certifiable. Chased by the little men in white coats loop de loo. If only that was the explanation.
“Oh my God!” she screamed catching sight of the alarm clock.
It couldn’t be ten o’clock?
She had to be at Mel’s in an hour and it was a good twenty minutes between here and there, even on a Saturday.
Confetti forgotten, the Ghost relegated to the back of her mind. Edie scrambled from her bed and ran into the bathroom.
An hour, later she pulled up outside Mel’s in Clapham South. She’d made it. She winced as she looked in the rear view mirror as she reversed into an available parking space. She had made it but her grooming hadn’t. Her dark hair, which had been damp and unstyled when she got in the car, was now windswept and curling into ringlets here and there. Her nose was shiny as she hadn’t had time to put on any make-up and she struggled to remember what she had stuffed, willy nilly, into the overnight bag for the weekend. She was sure she had forgotten something.
“Edie!” Mel screeched as she came to the door of the flat.
The terrace of houses, now mostly divided into two flats, was the same as pretty much everywhere in this part of South London. Built sometime in the late nineteenth century as family homes for commuters they now were family homes again, just cut up to a much smaller scale. Mel and Barry had the ground floor of a corner house, giving them a garden that came into its own in the summer.
“Edie! Come in! Come in!” Mel called, oblivious to her neighbours and their Saturday morning comfort.
Edie grimaced. Typically, Mel had demanded she was here on time and yet again she was running late herself.
Locking the Mini, Edie walked to the flat and wondered why she’d rushed. She could've at least taken the time to dry her hair.
“I’ll just be a few more minutes,” Mel promised as she ushered her in.
Edie followed her through the living room that the front door opened straight on to. The room was cluttered with fashion magazines and boy’s toys. Games consoles and mountain bikes.
Edie carried on down the narrow corridor and into the kitchen dining room at the back of the house. The summer sun streamed through the glass ceiling of the extension.
Mel disappeared into the bedroom while Edie settled herself on a stool at the breakfast counter and tried not to notice the sink full of dirty dishes. Edie itched to wash them and to stack the listing pile of magazines into a perfectly arranged tower. Instead she chewed on her