The Girl and the Ghost by Ebony McKenna

Author:Ebony McKenna [McKenna, Ebony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ebony McKenna

Morgan woke, groggy from plummeting into heavy sleep and springing out again. The beginnings of a virus niggled. Sore throat, heavy head, blocked nose and achey legs. George sat on the chaise. ‘Good morning.’

‘Don’t come near me. I’m getting a cold.’

‘A bothersome sniffle is no match for me,’ he said with a wink.

He had a point. Being dead, he didn’t have to worry about getting sick any more. Lucky devil.

Heat spread over her cheeks and forehead as details of the dream came back to her. Then a horrible coldness spiked her as she thought about the meaning of his words. He’d said she was ‘breathing new life’ into him.

Was it at the expense of hers?

She had to be crazy to think like that. Maybe she’d been coming down with a cold so her imagination blamed George for it?

‘If you are developing a cold, shouldn’t you remain abed?’ George showed only concern. ‘Colds should not be dismissed.’

‘We have medicine now.’ Morgan’s tummy rumbled with hunger, a sign she couldn’t be that sick.

In the kitchen she helped herself to a cold and flu tablet from the medicine shelf.

Dave looked at her and curled his top lip. ‘You’ve got a face like a half-sucked mango.’

Morgan cracked up laughing, then pressed her hands to the sides of her head. ‘I’m getting a cold. It’s revolting. Can you please make me one of those blended drinky thingeys?’

‘Which one? Oyster roadkill or pureed grass?’

‘Which one has zinc in it?’

‘Oysters it is.’

‘Good morning all!’ An overly cheerful voice called out as he came through the mudroom.

‘Hey Gareth.’ Morgan waved. He moved in to kiss her but she held him back with an upturned palm, ‘I’ve got a cold.’

Gareth recoiled in horror. ‘My voice is my fortune.’ He blew air kisses instead.

‘Hello love!’ Rachelle strolled in, fully dressed, her make-up immaculate. ‘Thank you for coming over.’

‘It’s thrown my podcast schedule into chaos, but anything for you.’

Dave put the glass of grey froth in front of Morgan. She drank quickly to avoid tasting it.

Gareth made a face as he tapped his phone. ‘Dear God, Morgan, you’re trending again. How do you do it? It’s like they can’t get enough of you, and you’re not even trying.’

Morgan looked at his phone and groaned. ‘If I knew how to make it stop, I would.’

Her phone buzzed with an incoming message from Kaz.

Eurovision called, they want their crazy back.

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