Old-Fashioned, or Another Story With Ghosts

Chapter 5. The first cup of tea is finished and the first kiss takes place

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"I-I'll bring paper towels."

"If you wish. I believe they are in the kitchen either. So we ought to get there anyway."

Greg continued watching James, the real, flesh-and-bone James, with no attempt to move. So James had to take him at the elbow directing towards the kitchen again.   

"I am not crazy, I swear." Greg was watching the owner of the house bringing the kettle to boil. He should have helped, but he still didn't fully trust his knees. So he remained seated trying to hide Batman socks under the chair. James was wearing... a leisure suit. No less. "Are you lord Blacke? And... how do you know my last name?" 

He wanted to ask if he really sleeps in this suit. There is the special bond between people who are walking around the haunted house at 3 am.

"We both are insane, in this case" James smiled and placed a cup of milked tea in front of the shaking young man. Who hid the Batman socks even further. James guessed he felt uneasy in them. Well, he would too, but at least they suited the Scottish lad.

"I was told you name by the manager, nothing mysterious here."

"Were you also... sleepless?"

"I'm afraid I cannot quite answer that, Mr Bay, because I do not recall my way from my bedroom into the hall." James took his own cup and made a small sip. "Have you seen the man in the armchair earlier before?"

"You say it like it's normal shite to see... oh, sorry."

"Well, I believe, in our case the concept of normal might be extended to the certain limits." Lord Blacke smiled reassuringly and put a biscuit box on the table. "I wonder why you keep seeing him. Are you connected to the family?" 

Greg chuckled making a sip. "Doubt it. Otherwise somebody from the family travelled near the Aberdeen and had a love affair with a pastor's daughter accidentally." He blinked. "I mean... sorry."

He was cold again, although it was not cold here.

Then, he put the cup back and took it again by the handle.

"It is quite possible. I could not think of any reason apart from the bloodline to explain your case, Mr Bay."

"Call me Greg, please. My granddad calls me Mr Bay, and he's also a pastor, along with my dad. Too much of bliss in one family, really."

"I see. Might cause a great deal of the problem."

"Not as much as you have here." Greg suddenly glanced at James with panicking eyes. "You didn't arrived because of me, did you? I mean... you are not going to shut down tomm's wedd?!" He almost leaned over the table to the man. "Please, don't, I barely kept my job after that another lad from the armchair, I mean, your grandfather! Is this because of him you want to close up the venue?.."

"Of course, I'm not shutting down the wedding, what are you talking about? I gave my word, and believe me, Gregory, I am a man of my word. I wouldn't wish to close the venue after them as well and shall be happy upon educative visitings. But this is a family home, young man, not a... venue. I hope you understand."

"I... I'm sorry. Why is he...why is old lord Blacke still here anyway?"

"I wonder myself. I was as surprised to find out as you are. But we both seem to be the only ones who can see him, so I honestly guess it has something to do with you as well."

"You look... like him. It is creepy. A bit." Greg lowered his gaze.

"We shouldn't be afraid of ghosts, dear Gregory, but pity them. They are nothing but shadows fading away in the fog, lost on the way we are all yet to know." James put down the empty cup and smiled a little. "We should both go and try our best to get some sleep."