«Bloody ‘ell, Victor Victor! Wake up, you daft sod! You’ll sleep your whole life away if I let ya. Look at ‘im, will ya? Still snorin Victor, get up before you miss your chance!»
«Adelaide Margaret, for pitys sake, let a man sleep!»
«Sleep? Youll sleep when youre dead. Now up with you!»
«Aye, rightplenty o time for that in the grave.»
«Not if Ive any say. Up! Now!»
Victor dragged himself to the mirror, bleary-eyed and scowling.
«Well?»
«Not even dressed, and youre already naggin. Go wash, shave, make yourself presentable. Theres time yet. Move it.»
«What time, Adelaide Margaret?»
«The right kind.»
Victor shuffled off to the bathroom, muttering curses under his breath. Cross her, and hed get a slipper to the head for his trouble. Bloody womanstill bossing him about from beyond the grave.
«Victor, did I ever tell you I can hear your thoughts? No? Well, now you know,» Adelaide said, perched lotus-style on his bed. «Side effect, I suppose. Now go scrub that mug. And dont forget to shaveyou look like a right tramp.»
Arguing was pointless. Even alive, shed never lost a row.
Adelaide Margaret wasnt just his former mother-in-law. She was unusual. A ghost, to be precise.
Aye, a ghost.
No, he wasnt mad. No, he hadnt drunk himself daft. Shed just appeared one day, long after theyd buried her.
«I hear you, you know. Most of the time,» she said, floating closer. «How my Lydia ever put up with you, Ill never know. Youre a relic, Victor. A proper dinosaur.»
Victor waved her off and stalked to the bathroom.
He and Lydia had divorced a year ago. The kids were grown, living their own lives. Lydia had snapped, called him a tyrant, said he stifled her growth as a woman, packed a bag, and slammed the door on her way out.
Victor had stood there, bewildered.
Hed rung her. Shed said she wanted nowt to do with a backwards, misogynist relicwords hed never been called before.
How was he to stop being a relic, anyway? He built houses, sheds, barns thats what he did. Lydia had gone odd, listening to some life coach, bloke called Merlin Wonderborn or some such nonsense. Decided Victor had enslaved her, forced her to make stews and fry sausages.
Though, Christthe way she fried sausages
Victor nearly choked on his own spit as an idea struck him. Half-shaved, he bolted into the hall.
«Adelaide Margaret! Adelaide!»
«Whats all the shouting?»
«Teach me to make your stew. Please.»
«Oh, aye, righthand over me secret recipe to the likes of you!»
«Whatll you do with it in the afterlife? Cook for demons?»
«Cheeky bugger.»
«Lydias stews better than yours, anyway.»
«Pfft! Taught her meself, didnt I?»
«So?» Victor lathered his face again, past caring about decorum. The old bat wouldnt let him rest.
«So?» Adelaide flickered, her form wavering. Shed struggled at firstspinning like a top, banging into ceilingsbut shed got the hang of it. Even learned to grip things, like a slipper. «I taught Lydia, you great lump!»
«Not disputing it. Just saying the student outdid the teacher.»
«Eh? What meat does she use, then?»
«Pork, o course.»
«Numpty! Beefs proper.»
«Oh, and I spose its got to be that pot, not this one?»
«Dont be daftthat one!»
By noon, Victor had stew bubbling away, scribbling notes like a schoolboy. Clean-shaven, he sat at the table, spooning up the finest stew hed ever tasted.
«Blimey, Mum youre a genius.»
«What?»
«This stew its divine.»
«And Lydias?»
«Pah! Doesnt hold a candle. Youyou crying? Can ghosts cry?»
«Dunno,» she sniffed. «Youre a right rotter, Victor.»
«Now whatve I done?»
«Callin me Mum. Made me go all soft.»
Adelaide had planned to send him out with the bins at half sixjust as spinster Gladys from next door would be leaving. Theyd collide, sparks would fly, and Adelaide could finally move on.
«Only you had to go and ruin it with your stew nonsense,» she grumbled.
Victor chuckled. «Happy as I am, thanks. Got air in me lungs, your stew recipe, and a ghost keepin me from turnin into a right slob. What more could a man want?»
«Go to hell,» she shrieked, vanishing into the wardrobe, sobs echoing behind her.
Victor tidied up.
«Not like that, you great oaf! Use that cloth!»
***
Lydia hadnt slept well. Shed dreamt of her motheryoung, beautiful, reaching for her.
She tried to watch Merlin Wonderborns latest video, but it wouldnt load. She rang him instead.
The man whod opened her eyes to lifes injusticesalways available.
No answer.
Thena raspy snarl: «Who the devil calls at seven in the bloody mornin?»
Lydia slammed the laptop shut. That wasnt Merlin. That was a monster.
Something pulled her to Victors. She didnt know why.
***
Victor and Adelaide were playing chess, laughing like old mates.
«Gone barmy,» Lydia muttered, watching her ex talk to thin air.
«Lydia! Your move, Mumcheck!»
The chess pieces moved on their own.
«You look peaky,» Victor said. «Mum says youve not been eatin. Fancy some stew?»
«Vic you alright?»
«Never better. Mums teachin me to fry sausages next.»
«Vic Mums been gone a year.»
«Aye. Lived with me since.»
Lydias stomach dropped. «Vic love, whats wrong?»
«Nothin. Come, have some stew.»
The smell hit herjust like Mums.
«You made this?»
«Aye. Mum shared her secret. Oh, stop blubberin, Adelaide. Lydia, ask her somethin only you twod know.»
«Mum what secret did I tell you when I was eight?»
«That you fancied Waityou fancied me back then?»
Lydia sank into a chair.
Piece by piece, the truth came outuntil, for a fleeting second, Lydia saw her.
Then Adelaide faded.
«Shes gone,» Victor whispered.
***
Victor woke with a shout. Lydia bolted upright beside him.
«Lydia?»
«Vic? How did I? Wait was that?»
«A dream,» Victor murmured.
«You dreamt Mum was a ghost?»
«Aye. And youd left me for some life coach.»
«Vic!»
«Lydia!»
A fist hammered the door.
«Up, you layabouts! Enough snoozin!»
«Mum?»
«Adelaide Margaretyoure alive?»
«Course I am! Lydia, stop watchin that nonsense. Coaches, life gurusrubbish! Had the queerest dreamspent a year hauntin you two. Now up! Were off to the cottage. Work to do. Lydia, well knock sense into you. Vic, youll learn to cook properjust in case.»
***
«Vic whyd you never call me Mum in thirty years?»
«Dunno Mum. «Always felt like I had to earn it, I suppose.»
She patted his cheek, her eyes suddenly bright. «You just did, you daft old fool.»
And for the first time in years, the three of them walked out the door together, bickering, laughing, alive.
