The Ghostly Past

Chapter 23

For the longest time, Max sat alone in the room where Clara had left him. It felt cold and empty without her. He despised himself for hurting her. He shouldn't have succumbed to his feelings for her in the garden. Now both of their hearts were aching.

She'd looked so beautiful, so fierce, when she'd taken on Kim's sister. The girl had intended to wound him with her words, to put him in his place as so many had since they had realised their destiny, but Clara had defended him.

Stubborn, and intensely curious, he simply couldn't keep up with her most of the time. Her mind worked quickly through puzzles and problems, diving into truths faster than any of them could hide them.

He should have tried harder to hide the truth from her. It was stupid to let any outsider close to him and his friends. Ryan had defied it with Kim, but anyone could see they were becoming strained as the cycle began. They wouldn't last much longer.

Leo had told him, after the ghosts had made their appearance, after they'd all realised he was developing feelings for Clara, to end it, to stay away. Keep her at arms length, and maybe she'd lose interest in him, as much as it stung.

It hadn't worked though. He was drawn to her in a way he could not explain. Her conversation stimulated him, her laugh, her eyes...he cared about her.

Now she was suffering and he couldn't help her. She'd come so close to dying that night after she had confronted them all in the pub. Three spirits had touched her and she had lived. He recalled her small body curled on the pavement, the fragments of ice on her skin and hair, chalky skin and blue lips.

Since then, she'd been haunted, by her own questions and the visions that plagued her. For a while he'd thought she just saw things. She'd been evasive when he'd pushed her about it, and so he'd been unaware that she was actually living the memories herself.

What had happened tonight could never be allowed to happen again.

If he hadn't been there, she would have thrown herself into the well. He'd never heard of such a thing happening in the old stories. Margaret had never mentioned someone living the memories to that extent.

He shuddered in horror at what would have happened.

Never again, he thought.

He was too attached to her. He should never have kissed her.

Clara, haunted as she was, would never be safe until the cycle ended. Margaret was right. Until he and his friends were dead, the girl he cared about would face terror and danger.

He remembered the night James had seen the first ghost, and it had begun. Just a few months earlier, but it seemed like a lifetime ago, months before he had met Clara. They had met Oliver a few days previously, who had just arrived in town on his research assignment and promptly befriended the group. James had been walking back from the Academy, where there had been interviews and auditions going on.

He'd seen one of the Georgian era ghosts standing, watching from a field, felt the temperature plummet and he'd known that it had come.

Max had been roused from his bed by a terrified phone call. They had all met at his house, sitting quietly together while James told his story. They had been silent for a long time afterwards.

"So it's begun." Leo had finally said. Always the leader.

"It can't have." Jess was crying, he remembered. "It's too soon. We're too young." Leo had wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest while she cried. Ryan had been silenced, his head resting on his knees from his seat on the floor.

"So what do we do?" Max said into the silence.

"What can we do?" James laughed. "Kill ourselves now?" No one else laughed. "Seriously guys?" His laugh seemed wrong in the midst of their misery. "We still have to keep going. We can't just give up."