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Erica had looked up, only then noticing the exposed burn on her forearm.
Damn! The bandage must’ve worked itself loose…
Quickly tugging down the sleeve of her cardigan to cover the blemishes, she’d smiled nonchalantly, casting a quick eye over the floor for the bandage without success. “Oh, that? It’s, erm, just from the tap. The hot water’s been hotter than normal. I think there’s something wrong with the boiler.”
“You ought to get it looked at,” Marc had said, still worried. “That’s quite a burn.”
He was sweet. He was always looking out for her and offering to help.
“You’re right. I’ll tell my landlord tonight.”
Lie. One of many that rolled off her tongue far too easily in the name of self-preservation. He might be one of her closest friends, but she couldn’t risk anyone finding out the truth.
Danger averted, she’d then followed Joslin and Marc down the service stairs to their floor. From there, they’d separated into their different departments—Marc in ‘Antiques & Collectibles’ and Erica and Joslin in ‘Health & Diet’. With their departments being next to one another and with them sharing many shifts—not to mention similar senses of humour—they’d become firm friends over the last year when she’d moved to London.
It had come as no surprise that she’d lost to Joslin at their usual game of Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide who would be on the shop floor. She often did. And it had also been no surprise when Gertrude Watkins, the resident ghost, had sought her company either.
Once nearby spirits discovered she was a medium, they often made a beeline for her—desperate for company. She was used to it. Though seeing spirits had scared her as a child, especially when their touch burned, she’d overcome her fear by focusing on them and their lives. Not their deaths and the fact they were see-through. It made them feel more human and less scary. Her first friend had been a spirit, and it was he who'd helped her come to terms with her gift. Or curse, as it sometimes felt.
But she couldn't complain. Not really. It had been from the other spirit's life stories that her interest in history had started. Sparking a chain of events that had ultimately brought her to London to study History at University College London.
But that was where normal had ended for Erica. At least for today.
Gertrude was usually a kind spirit, often chatting happily away whilst helping Erica with any shelving she had to do. Dressed in the grey staff uniform of the retail store Simpsons of Piccadilly (a large retail store from the 1930s that had formerly occupied the building), Gertrude helped break up the monotony of Erica's job, and she enjoyed her company. Although she was prone to hysterics.
Today was such a day, it would seem.
Erica beheld the wailing spectre below her. She had several hours left of her shift but was ready to call it a night.
Most people felt the wails of a spirit as nothing more than a cold draught rippling through the different planes. However, some people also complained of cold shivers down their spines. Any who spoke of echoes displayed a closer bond to the supernatural. But Erica had met none of those. It was just her and her mum since the gift only ran in the female line of her mum’s family.
“Gertrude! Whatever’s the matter?” she hissed, casting a fretful eye about her as she hastened down the stepladder. Luckily, she found herself nestled between rows of bookshelves; the last thing she needed was for people to find out about her ability to see spirits. No one would understand. They’d just see her speaking to thin air and think she was a freak.
Stay hidden.
Stay quiet.
Stay safe.
Wasn’t that what her mother had always told her to do? Just like all the female ancestors before them? At least she wasn’t a twin. Her mother said twins were supposed to be born with an even greater gift. Not that she ever elaborated on what that was. But one thing was for sure, it couldn’t and wouldn’t lend itself to ‘normal’. At least Erica could keep her gift hidden.
Usually.
“I thought you were my friend!” Gertrude lamented, her distress rolling off her in icy waves. The temperature plummeted.
Sneezing several times, Erica took a hasty step backwards. She had no wish to receive another burn today. Not if she could help it.
Bewildered, Erica ducked at the last second as the spirit hurled a book at her. It hit the opposite set of shelves, landing on the ground with a heavy thunk!
She gaped from the spirit to where the book lay. “Gertrude! What's got into you?!”
Gertrude looked momentarily stunned before heartbreak twisted her features. “You forgot!”
“Forgot what?!”
The spirit looked from her to the book lying forlornly on the carpet. A mischievous smile quirked her lips, and she brazenly summoned a shelf of books to launch into the air.
Erica watched, her emerald green eyes growing rounder and rounder every second the books hovered overhead. “Now, Gertrude… Let's talk about this…”
