**Diary Entry October 12th**
Bloody hell, its my mother-in-law again.
«Vinny Vinny, wake up! Youll sleep your life away like this. Look at himsnoring away! Victor, get up before you miss your chance at happiness!»
«Margaret, for Gods sake, let me sleep.»
«Sleep? Youll have plenty of time for that when youre dead!»
«Or in the afterlifesame difference.»
«Stop talking nonsense and get up. Now.»
Victor dragged himself to the mirror, bleary-eyed, hair sticking up like a hedgehog.
«Well?»
«Youre hopeless. Go wash up, shave, and make yourself presentable. Theres still time. Move it.»
«What time? What on earth are you on about, Margaret?»
«Just do as youre told.»
Grumbling, Victor shuffled to the bathroom. If he muttered too loud, hed get a slipper to the back of the headghost or not, she hadnt lost her aim.
«Vinny did I ever tell you I can read minds? No? Well, now you know.» Margaret hovered cross-legged over his bed. «Side effect of being a spectre. Now go scrub those teeth and shaveyou look like a tramp.»
No point arguing. Even alive, shed been impossible.
See, Margaret wasnt just his ex-mother-in-law. She was unusual. A ghost, to be precise.
No, he wasnt mad. Or drunk. One day, shed just appeared. After the funeral.
«I hear what youre thinking, you know,» she said, drifting closer. «How my poor Linda ever put up with you, Ill never know.»
Victor waved her off and stalked to the bathroom.
He and Linda had divorced a year agokids grown, lives moved on. One day, shed snapped, called him a «Neanderthal,» packed her things, and slammed the door on twenty years.
Hed called her later, bewildered. Shed hissed something about «toxic masculinity» and «self-actualisation.» Never mind that he built houses for a livingapparently, that made him oppressive. Bloody life coaches.
Still Linda made the best roast dinners.
The thought hit him mid-shave. Foamy cheek half-done, he sprinted out. «Margaret! Margaret!»
«What now?»
«Teach me to make your roast. Please.»
«And give away my secret recipe? Not on your life.»
«Whatll you need it for? Entertaining demons?»
«Cheeky sod.»
«Lindas is better anyway.»
«Better? I taught her everything!»
«Pfft. Student surpassed the teacher.»
«Whatd you put in yours, then?»
«Beef, obviously.»
«Wrong. Lamband a pinch of thyme in the gravy.»
An hour later, Victor sat at the kitchen table, clean-shaven, scribbling notes as Margaret dictated. The first bite nearly brought tears to his eyes.
«Margaret youre a genius.»
«What was that?»
«This roast. Its bloody brilliant.»
«Oh? What about Lindas?»
«Doesnt even come close.» Victor paused. «Are you crying? Can ghosts cry?»
«Dunno,» she sniffed. «Youre a proper git, Vinny.»
«Me? Whatd I do now?»
«Nothing. Just called me Mum. First time in thirty years.» Her form flickered. «I was supposed to sort your future out, you know.»
«Hows that?»
«Had it all planned. Youd take the bins out at half-six, run into Gladys from number 42lovely widow, just moved inand well.»
«Wait. You were matchmaking?»
Her ghostly eyes darted. «Suppose I was.»
«So whyd you botch it?»
«Because you» She huffed. «You and your bloody roast distracted me!»
«Me?»
«Yes, you! Now Im stuck here until»
«Until what?»
«Until youre happy, you daft sod.»
«Happy? I am happy. Ive got your recipe. Got you nagging me. Who needs a stranger when Ive got family?»
«Mum» caught in his throat.
She screeched, vanished into the wardrobe, and wailed like a banshee.
Victor smirked and started tidying.
«Not like that! Use the blue cloth, Vinnyhonestly!»
***
Linda tossed all night. Dreamt of her motheryoung, radiant, reaching for her.
She tried calling her life coach, Desmond bloody Miracle, but his line just rang. At 7 AM, a groggy voice snarled, «Who the hell calls at this hour?!»
Not Desmond. Some hungover ogre.
She slammed the laptop shut.
Something drew her back to Victors flat.
***
There he waslaughing, playing chess with thin air.
«Lost the plot,» Linda muttered.
«Linda! Mum, its your movecheck!»
The chess piece moved. On its own.
«You look thin,» Victor said cheerfully. «Mum says youre not eating. Fancy some roast?»
«Vic are you alright?»
«Never better. Mums teaching me her recipes.»
«What mum? Shes»
«Dead? Aye. Still here, though.»
Lindas stomach lurched. The smellthat roast. Just like her mothers.
«Ask her something only wed know.»
Stammering, Linda did.
Every answer was right.
The air flickered. A ghostly hand brushed her cheek.
Thengone.
***
Victor woke with a gasp. Linda bolted upright beside him.
«Vic?»
«Lin?»
A fist hammered the door.
«Up, you layabouts! Were going to the cottage. Linda, no more of that life coach rubbish. And Vinnyyoure learning to cook.»
Margaret stood there, very much alive.
«Wait so it was all a dream?» Victor mumbled.
She snorted. «Dream? More like a warning. Now move it.»
Later, pulling him aside, she whispered, «Whyd you never call me Mum before?»
Victor grinned. «Dunno Mum.»
**Lesson learnt:** Familys a funny thingwhether theyre haunting you or just nagging you to peel the potatoes properly. Either way, youre stuck with em. Best make peace with it.
