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name this was your house wasnā€™t it?ā€
ā€œYesā€
ā€œBut youā€™re dead, you died hereā€ She took a large gulp of wine ā€œAre you a ghost or an angel?ā€
ā€œI think Iā€™m just a ghost, I havenā€™t been anywhere to become an angelā€
ā€œSo why are you here? Why havenā€™t you gone to where dead people go?ā€
She drained her glass and filled it again quickly.
ā€œI not really sureā€ I lied
There was silence for a few moments before she asked
ā€œIs there a heaven?ā€
ā€œI donā€™t know if there is a heaven or not, Iā€™ve always believed that there wasā€
I paused for a moment
ā€œMy wife Rose died in this cottage and she has obviously gone somewhereā€
ā€œGod how many people have died here? Is it cursed or something?ā€
She had another glug of wine.
Then a look of panic came over her face.
ā€œHave you been here all the time, Ever since I moved in I mean?ā€
Then she flushed deep red.
ā€œYou havenā€™t been letching at me in the bath?ā€
I laughed and said.
ā€œNo itā€™s alright donā€™t worry, I havenā€™t been letching at you even though you are a very attractive young womanā€
She looked doubtful. So I continued.
ā€œI am painfully aware that this is not my home anymore and as such there are areas that I have made off limits; I am a very discreet ghostā€
She sighed and looked reassured.
We sat in silence for a while then she fell asleep in the armchair.

For the next two days I didnā€™t show myself to her partly because I thought it might be better for her to digest the knowledge of my existence for a while before I spoke to her again and partly because I was angry at myself for misreading the situation the previous evening and alerting her to my presence unnecessarily.
I had acted on the spur of the moment but in truth it hadnā€™t upset my plans in anyway chiefly because I didnā€™t have a plan to upset.
Of course there was always the possibility she might think she had imagined the whole thing as a result of the wine and painkillers.
I looked in on her from time to time and apart from the obvious signs of a hangover and her limp she seemed ok.
Although she did tend to suddenly look over her shoulder for no apparent reason.

Three days after, for want of a better phrase, I exposed myself to Juliana was one of those wonderful early autumn days that lifts your spirits but can also take you by surprise when you step out into it as the sun can deceive you into thinking the summer hasnā€™t quite surrendered and then the bitter October wind stings you.
I couldnā€™t tell which it might be as it looked like it might be quite warm but I couldnā€™t tell firstly as I was inside looking out and secondly because I was dead and couldnā€™t feel anything.
Juliana had been upstairs dressing as it was one of her physio days and she was just hobbling her way downstairs and I was beginning to think that she had indeed passed off our encounter as an hallucination but as she picked up her car keys and opened the front door she called back behind her with out turning around.
ā€œBye Harryā€
I didnā€™t reply because it caught me by surprise
But I donā€™t think she was looking for an answer though it was difficult to tell as there was no feeling behind the words.
Was it a ā€œBye Harryā€ see you later or ā€œBye Harryā€ I canā€™t live in a house with a ghost?
Or perhaps ā€œBye Harryā€ are you really there?
She was gone all day and I was beginning to think I had scared her away as it was unusual for her to be quite so late and it had been dark for some time when her car pulled up outside the cottage.
It was a little after seven when she came in through the door her face was tired and strained and she moved uncomfortably.
I had seen that pained look before in the weeks I had been observing her.
It was as a result of her physiotherapy sessions where they worked her hard and she suffered for it, but it was working she was getting better.
I had seen the change in her over the weeks and she was getting better becoming stronger and less reliant on her stick but her sessions left her exhausted and in a lot of pain.
She moved slowly over to the armchair and collapsed into it, after a few moments she rummaged in her bag and brought out a bottle of water then she reached onto the table and picked up her pills, her hand was shaking as she opened the bottle, she put one in her mouth and took a long drink of water then she leaned back and sighed.
She closed her eyes and was drifting off to sleep.
I sat in the chair opposite her and spoke to her.
ā€œJuliana!ā€
She didnā€™t respond.
ā€œJuliana!ā€
ā€œWhat do you want?ā€ she said without opening her eyes. ā€œAnd donā€™t call me Juliana, only my Mother calls me Julianaā€
ā€œWhat should I call you then?ā€
She opened her eyes and looked straight at me.
ā€œJulie is fine, but never Jules I hate thatā€
ā€œOkā€ I said
She closed her eyes again.
ā€œJulieā€
ā€œWhat?ā€ She responded impatiently.
ā€œYou need to go to bedā€
ā€œI can sleep here, its fine now leave me aloneā€
ā€œJulie you need to go to bedā€
ā€œLeave me alone or Iā€™ll call Ghostbusters and theyā€™ll come and Hoover you upā€
ā€œThey donā€™t existā€ I said
ā€œNor do youā€ she replied
ā€œBut Iā€™m here though, and Iā€™m not going to shut up until you go to bedā€
She opened one eye.
ā€œThatā€™s really unkindā€ she said with surprise.
ā€œItā€™s for your own goodā€ I said sagely
She looked unconvinced but struggled to her feet muttering under her breath.
Then she started slowly towards the stairs.
I felt guilty because it was clearly painful for her to walk but I knew it would be so much better for her to get a good rest in bed.
I wished I could help her but I was unable to, I hadnā€™t mastered any of the physical stuff when I was in the cottage on my own it didnā€™t seem worth training myself to open a door when it was easier to walk through it.
Since I had had a house guest or perhaps landlady would be more precise as I was actually the house guest I had been practising with some small success but propelling a person, even a small person, up a flight of stairs was beyond my capabilities.
ā€œI canā€™t believe that Iā€™m being haunted by Casperā€™s Granddad and he is making me do thisā€ She said as she struggled up the stairs.
As she reached the top she paused briefly to catch her breath then she headed for her room.
ā€œTomorrow Iā€™m calling an exorcistā€ she shouted.
A few minutes later all was silent and in an instant I left the sitting room and transported myself to her bedroom.
It was the first time Iā€™d been upstairs since she moved in and she had made the room very nice.
She was lying on her back fully clothed and sleeping peacefully on her bed.
On the trunk at the foot of her bed was a throw which with a great deal of effort I managed to cover the lower half of her with it and I was just about to continue when her hand reached down and pulled it the rest of the way up and she turned onto her side with the throw wrapped round her shoulders.
That left me with the simple task of flicking the light switch something that I had mastered.

The next day was a dull and dreary early October day and it was raining hard, the rain beating against the window glass like someone was throwing handfuls of gravel.
Julie didnā€™t come downstairs until 11 oā€™clock, I had heard her moving about upstairs from about ten then I could hear the bath running so after more than twelve hours sleep and a hot bath she made her way down the stairs in a good deal less pain than her ascent the night before.
She was bright and breezy and had real vitality about her such as I had not seen in her before.
She was so alive, so vibrant, she was smiling!
ā€œHarry?ā€ she called as she headed for the kitchen.
I said nothing.
ā€œHarry?ā€ She called again as she entered the kitchen
ā€œWhere are you?ā€
I appeared suddenly in front of her.
ā€œOhā€ She exclaimed and jumped then she laughed.
ā€œIā€™m hereā€ I said ā€œWhatā€™s all the noise about?ā€
ā€œItā€™s enough to wake the deadā€ I said and smiled.
ā€œYes very funnyā€ She was smiling too.
I studied her face it was a very pretty face when you removed the pain that was normally etched into it, what a difference from the night before.
It was nice to see the beauty of the person when the bitterness and pain were removed or at least masked temporarily.
The girl before me today was nothing like the one I had been observing for the past month.
It was clearly only a type of euphoria which would undoubtedly wear off.
ā€œI hated you last nightā€ She said looking straight into my eyes ā€œMaking me climb those stairsā€
ā€œBut today I feel the best Iā€™ve felt since before the accidentā€
She had not mentioned the accident before.
ā€œI could kiss youā€ she continued.
ā€œWell that would be lovely but there is nothing to kiss, youā€™d fall straight through me and head butt the cookerā€
She blew me a kiss instead.
ā€œIā€™m glad you are feeling betterā€
ā€œI know that it wonā€™t last all day but for now I feel terrificā€
ā€œYouā€™ll be dancing by Christmasā€ I said
ā€œDonā€™t spoil it by talking about Christmas I hate Christmasā€
ā€œWhy?ā€
ā€œI will tell you another time I donā€™t want anything to spoil my moodā€

The pain did return later that day though not as severe and the next morning the bitterness was back and for the rest of the month she did battle with her demons,
Julie had good days and bad days but over all the demons won.
She still kept herself to herself only leaving the house for physio appointments, which were paying dividends, and her only visitors were delivering one thing or another.
The majority of her time was spent on the computer which she used for her work, something involving pages and pages of gobbledygook, and as her window on the world, a world in which she did not have to participate but could merely be a spectator.
Unless she called on me I chose my moments to appear trying to gauge the right time in between her black moods.
It was while Julie was on the computer, on one of her good days that I chose to show myself.
She was ordering her groceries online when I dropped in.
ā€œDonā€™t forget the sweets for Halloweenā€ I said
ā€œOh God not Halloweenā€ She replied.
ā€œDonā€™t tell me you hate Halloween as wellā€
ā€œOf course I hate Halloween, why wouldnā€™t I, all those ghastly trick or treaters begging door to doorā€
She was bordering on rant mode and I was beginning to think I had picked the wrong time to call.
ā€œThen there are the implied threats of violence and vandalismā€
I looked at her and raised my eyebrows and she stopped and laughed
ā€œYouā€™re such a happy soulā€ I said
ā€œWell why do you like it then?ā€
ā€œI donā€™t reallyā€
ā€œSo why do you want me to buy sweets?
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