A Ghost by Ben Stevens

Author:Ben Stevens [Stevens, Ben]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2013-07-19T04:00:00+00:00

2

Miss Burrows only just caught the train – it was running exactly on time, and she was running late – and she sat gazing vacantly at her book throughout the twenty-minute journey.

At work she had trouble maintaining her usual level of concentration, and consequently made several uncharacteristic mistakes. In her mind she kept hearing that laugh – the slow voice close to her ear, talking, promising...:

There’d been one or two men after Jack who’d done their best to court her. She’d been relatively pretty, with an attractive smile when she’d chosen to use it. Though, thinking back now, she’d not really smiled or laughed that much since 1943…

With a subsequent feeling of relief she considered that she’d avoided turning into an old prude; a bitter old spinster who despised any happiness that they themselves had never experienced, or had known briefly and then lost. Miss Burrows had done the best she’d been able to in order to live a satisfactory life, all the while lacking the one thing that was central to so many people’s existence: a partner.

It seemed an age until it was finally five o’clock, when she promptly left the office and walked the short distance to Waterloo station.

Then she saw him, walking onto the platform where the train she was due to catch waited. With a fluttering heart she followed him into a carriage, sitting two seats away and discreetly watching as he stared out of the window. The brushed-back hair was a clean white colour; his eyes sparkled and displayed an interest in everything they saw. His narrow lips twisted with the eternal half-smile she remembered had only ever changed into a full one.

Summoning all her courage she stood up as the doors beeped and then slid shut. The train began gathering speed as she said, ‘I’m sorry to intrude, but I believe that I may know you.’

The china-blue eyes stared politely but blankly back at her. Miss Burrows’ words stumbled over themselves in their haste to be spoken:

‘That is, that I know of you – I mean that I’ve heard of you –’

She paused, took a deep breath.

‘Are you Rupert Cundy?’

All of a sudden the happy face looked extremely surprised, as the familiar voice said, ‘This is incredible; I’m not Rupert, but I knew him very well – I’m his brother, Jack, y’see. Unfortunately, Rupert died three years ago: heart attack. It was very quick, at least.’

Miss Burrows almost collapsed onto a seat, her mouth gaping open.

‘But… I mean… Well, do you not recognise me?’ she demanded at last. ‘Your parents told me that you’d been killed during the war.’

The man looked more closely at the elderly woman. Surprise again showed on his face, but this time it was mixed with a little fear that gave it an unhealthily sly appearance.

‘Ethel, I can’t believe it...’

The man now looked very worried, and Miss Burrows finally understood what had really happened.

‘You lied to me,’ she said in a blunt, quiet voice.

‘I didn’t want to hurt you; it was better that way – ’

‘Stop that nonsense; I’m not eighteen-years-old anymore.

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