«Bloody hell, Vince…Vince, wake up! You’ll sleep through your whole ruddy life if you keep this up. Look at himdead to the world. Victor, get up before you miss your shot.»
«Adelaide, for Gods sake, let a man sleep.»
«Sleep? Youll sleep when youre retiredor dead.»
«Revenge, is it? Fine.»
Victor dragged himself to the mirror, bleary-eyed, his reflection a mess of stubble and exhaustion.
«Well? Get your arse moving. Wash up, shave, sort yourself out. Times ticking.»
«What time? Its a Sunday.»
«Exactly.»
Gritting his teeth, Victor slunk to the bathroom, muttering under his breath. One wrong word, and shed lob a slipper at his head. Bloody womaneven now, she was still bossing him about.
«Vince» Her voice slithered after him. «Did I ever mention I can hear your thoughts? No? Well, now you know.»
Adelaide perched on the edge of his bed, cross-legged, smug as a cat. «Side effect, love. Now, go scrub that scruff off. You look like youve been living in the woods.»
Arguing was pointless. Shed been insufferable alivenow she was worse.
Because Adelaide wasnt just his ex-mother-in-law.
She was a ghost.
Right.
No, he hadnt lost his mind. No, he wasnt drunk. Shed justappeared.
Three months after her funeral.
«I hear you, you know,» she said, floating closer. «Every nasty little thought. How my Linda put up with you, Ill never know. Youre a Neanderthal, you are.»
Victor waved her off and stalked into the bathroom.
Linda had left him a year ago. Kids grown, lives separate. One day, shed called him a «patriarchal relic,» packed her bags, and slammed the door.
Hed been too stunned to stop her.
When she finally answered his calls, shed spat words hed never heard before»misogynist,» «oppressor.» As if building houses for a living made him some kind of tyrant.
Madness.
And those «life coaches» shed started watchingbloody con artists, the lot of them. Filling her head with nonsense.
But Christ, could she cook.
The memory of her beef stew hit him like a lorry. Soaked in gravy, tender as sin
«ADELAIDE!»
Victor burst into the hallway, razor in hand, foam half-shaven.
«What in Gods name are you screaming?»
«Teach me to make your roast.»
Her smirk faltered. «As if Id give you my recipe.»
«Why not? You cooking for demons now?»
She hissed. «Cheeky little»
«Lindas was better.»
«LIAR.»
«Prove it.»
And so, pen in hand, Victor scribbled every detail. Two hours later, he sat at the table, clean-shaven, with a plate of roast so perfect it near brought him to tears.
«Christ, Mumthis is heaven.»
«What?»
«Your roast. Its» He swallowed. «Bloody brilliant.»
«Better than Lindas?»
«Not even close.»
Adelaides face twisted. Then, impossiblytears.
«Blimey, can ghosts cry?»
«Bugger off,» she sniffed. «Calling me ‘Mum’ after thirty years»
«Waityou were setting me up?»
She fidgeted. «I was sposed to send you out with the bins at half-six. Margaretnew neighbor, never marriedwas meant to bump into you. Literally. And then»
«And then what?»
Her ghostly eyes darted. «Idmove on. If I made you happy.»
«You knew this whole time?»
«Course.»
«And you didnt do it?»
«You!» She flapped her hands. «You distracted me with the bloody roast!»
«Me?»
«YOU. Now Im stuck here until»
«Until what?»
«Until youre happy, you daft git!»
«Happy? With some strange woman? I AM happy.»
Her form flickered. «How?»
«Because Im alive. Breathing. And now?» He lifted the recipe. «Ive got this. And youannoying, nagging, slipper-throwing youstopping me from rotting alone. Thats enough for me, Mum.»
«OH, GO TO HELL!» she shrieked, vanishing into the wardrobe, sobs echoing.
Victor grinned and grabbed a mop.
«Youre scrubbing the floor wrongVince, the BLUE CLOTH»
***
Linda hadnt slept.
Dreams of her motheryoung, glowing, reaching for herleft her restless.
She tried to watch her life coachs latest video, but the Wi-Fi was shite. She rang him instead.
«WHO THE HELL CALLS AT SEVEN?» A red-faced ogre snarled through the screen.
Linda slammed the laptop shut.
That wasnt him.
She didnt know why, but she needed to see Victor.
***
Victor and Adelaide were mid-chess match when Linda walked in.
«Lost the plot,» she muttered, watching him laugh at thin air.
«Linda! Mum, your movecheck!»
The chess pieces moved on their own.
Lindas stomach dropped.
«Youlook good,» Victor said. «Mum says youve lost weight. Hungry? Ive got roast.»
«Vicwhats wrong with you?»
«Wrong? Mums teaching me her Yorkshire pudding next.»
«Vicshes GONE.»
«Yeah. Been haunting me a year.»
Linda backed up. «Youre ill.»
«Im brilliant. Cmon, try the roast.»
The smell hit herrich, savory, exactly like her mothers.
«Youmade this?»
«Mums recipe. Stop crying, AdelaideLinda, ask me something only you and your mum would know.»
She exhaled. «What did I tell you in Year Four?»
«That you fancied me.»
Lindas legs gave out.
The questions piled upher prams color, her first tooth, Auntie Maggieeach answered perfectly.
«This isnt real.»
«She is,» Victor whispered. «Show her, Adelaide.»
A flickerthen her mothers face, just for a second.
«Shes fading,» Victor said. «But she loves you. Wants you happy. Wants ushappy?»
Adelaides form wavered. «Waitwhere are youMUM»
***
Victor woke screaming.
Linda shot upright beside him.
«Vic?»
«Lin?» They stared at each other.
«A dream?»
«Yeah.»
«You saw her too?»
«Yeah.»
A fist hammered the door.
«UP, YOU LAZY SODS!»
«Mum?»
«Adelaideyoure alive?»
«In your dreams,» she snorted. «Linda, stop watching that rubbish. Coaches, life gurusload of cobblers. Were going to the cottage. Fresh air, hard workknock the nonsense out of you.» She pointed at Victor. «And you? Learning to cook. Properly.»
***
Later, Victor lingered in the kitchen.
«Vic» Adelaides voice softened. «Whyd you never call me ‘Mum’ before?»
He shrugged. «DunnoMum. «Too late, eh?» she said, but the corner of her mouth lifted. «Well. Better late than never.» And just like that, she was gonenot with a bang, not with tears, but with the faint scent of rosewater and roast beef lingering in the air. Victor stood there, cloth in hand, smiling at nothing. The floor was clean. The oven was warm. And for the first time in years, the house didnt feel empty at all.
