The Legend of Kirsty Turner by Simon Houghton

Author:Simon Houghton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd
Published: 2020-11-05T00:00:00+00:00

She turned away and I followed her back to the path. We walked side by side in a slow, easy amble until we came to the benches I would sometimes sit on.

‘You know, when I feel upset and need time to think, I often sit here for a while,’ I said as I pointed at one of the benches.

It seemed like an awkward thing to say, but I had nothing else.

Kirsty glanced at me before sitting down on a bench.

‘And what upsets you, Charlie?’ she asked in genuine concern.

It appeared that she wanted to change the subject.

‘Oh, different things. I came here a lot after my mum died. She isn’t buried here, she was cremated, but I figured it was still a place of mourning. I would sit here for hours. I also get upset by the friends I’ve fallen out with. I’ve made up with Emma, by the way – the girl from the party I walked away from the night I first met you. Most recently, I came here after you punched me that night I grabbed you.’

My nose twinged in sympathetic pain at the thought of that encounter.

‘Did that upset you, Charlie?’ Kirsty said, with a smirk on her face.

‘It upset me that I’d upset you,’ I replied quickly.

Kirsty rolled her eyes like it was a lame answer. It probably was.

‘I’ve already said sorry for that, Charlie,’ she said, softly.

‘I know,’ I replied, in barely a whisper.

We sat there for a few moments in silence, looking across the gravestones. A graveyard isn’t the best of places to be at night, but somehow, with Kirsty beside me in the cool of the summer evening, it was strangely peaceful and serene. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her about what she felt, where she went when she wasn’t in the lane, whether she saw the world the same as I did. But somehow I thought that would ruin the moment, and maybe our friendship. Some things were probably best left alone. I looked across at her as she sat on the bench, her arms hanging on the back. I really wanted to put my arm around her, but I knew that would probably not be something she’d want. It seemed odd that I was so close to her and yet, at the same time, felt so far away.

‘What’s on your mind, Charlie?’ she said in a flat tone, without glancing at me.

I searched for something to say, conscious of the need to avoid saying anything stupid.

‘I don’t know. Nothing. Everything. It’s still a lot to take in. I’m sitting on a bench in the middle of a cemetery late in the evening with the ghost of Kirsty Turner,’ I said, and then realised I’d said something stupid.

‘Can we drop the ghost thing? It’s really annoying,’ she said, with a frown.

‘I’m sorry,’ I replied. ‘I’m still having a hard time processing it all.’

I then realised that, out of the two of us, she was having the worst of it, not me.

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