**Diary Entry A Very Peculiar Sunday**
Bloody hell, its barely six in the morning.
«Eddie! Eddie, wake up! Youll sleep your whole life away if you keep this up. Look at yousnoring like a lumberjack. Edward, I swear, youll miss your own fate if you dont get up now!»
«Margaret, for heavens sake, let me sleep. Its Sunday!»
«Sleep? You can sleep when youre retired!»
«Or in the afterlife, apparently,» I grumbled, dragging myself out of bed.
Margaretmy former mother-in-law, mind youwas perched on the edge of my mattress, arms crossed. Not that it should surprise me. Margarets been dead for a year. Ghosts dont exactly follow societal norms.
«Up you get. Wash your face, shave, make yourself presentable. Theres time yet.»
«What time? Its the crack of dawn!»
«Thats exactly the point,» she sniffed.
I shuffled to the bathroom, muttering under my breath. Arguing was pointless. Even in death, she had a way of flicking me on the ear if I stepped out of line.
«Eddie,» she called after me, «did I ever mention I can hear your thoughts? Side effect of the afterlife, I suppose. Now go onbrush your teeth properly, and for goodness sake, shave. You look like a tramp.»
I sighed. No use fighting it.
Margaret wasnt just any ghost. She was *my* ghost. Had been ever since she turned up in my flat a week after her funeral.
Lindamy ex-wifehad left me a year ago. Said I was a «tyrant,» a «misogynist,» all those fancy words she picked up from some self-help guru. Bloody nonsense. I built houses for a livingwas I supposed to stop just because some bloke on the internet told her I was oppressing her?
Still, I missed her cooking. Those beef pies God, they were heavenly.
Halfway through shaving, an idea struck me. I bolted down the hall, razor still in hand.
«Margaret! Margaret, teach me how to make your beef pie. Please.»
She scoffed. «And why would I do that?»
«What, are you feeding it to the angels now?»
«Cheeky devil.»
«Lindas was better anyway.»
That got her. «Better? *Better?* I taught her everything she knows!»
«Then prove it.»
We spent the morning in the kitchen, me scribbling notes like a schoolboy. By lunch, I was tucking into the most divine pie Id ever tasted.
«Blimey, Mum youre a genius.»
«*Mum?*» Her voice wobbled.
«Your pie its perfect.»
«What about Lindas?»
«Doesnt even compare.»
She sniffed. «Ghosts arent supposed to cry, you know.»
«Then why are you?»
«Because youre a right git, thats why!» She vanished into the wardrobe, howling like a banshee.
I chuckled and got on with tidying the place.
***
Meanwhile, across town, Linda was having a rotten morning. Shed dreamed of her motheryoung, radiant, calling her name. She tried to ring her life coach, some bloke named *Tristan the Visionary*, but he answered with a string of curses before slamming the phone down.
Something tugged at her. She didnt know why, but she had to see Eddie.
When she arrived, she found me playing chesswith an empty chair.
«Eddie who are you talking to?»
«Mum. Checkmate!» The pieces moved on their own.
Linda paled. «Your mothers been dead a year.»
«Aye, and shes been haunting me ever since.»
Linda thought Id lost ituntil I served her Margarets pie. The smell alone made her freeze.
«You you made this?»
«With Mums recipe.»
«Prove shes here.»
So I did. Linda asked questions only Margaret could answerthe colour of her pram, her first tooth, Auntie Mabeland every one was spot on.
Then, just for a second, Margaret flickered into view.
«Mum!» Linda gasped.
But she was fading. «Shes losing energy,» I said. «She just wanted you happy. Wanted *us* happy.»
Thennothing.
***
I woke with a shout. So did Lindanext to me, in *our* bed.
We stared at each other.
«You too?» she whispered.
«Aye. Your mum. The ghost. The pie.»
A fist pounded on the door.
«Enough lazing about! Were going to the cottage. Plenty of work to doand Eddie, youre learning to make that pie properly. Just in case.»
Margaret stood there, very much alive.
«Bloody hell,» I breathed.
Linda looked dazed. «Mum youre not a ghost?»
«Ghost? Dont be daft. Though I did have the strangest dream» She narrowed her eyes. «Now get dressed. Both of you.»
As we scrambled up, she paused.
«Eddie in thirty years of marriage, whyd you never call me *Mum*?»
I grinned. «Dunno. Just felt right today Mum.»
She swatted me with a tea towel, but I couldve sworn she smiled.
