‘How long, Mam?’
‘I have liked him for many years. I just didn’t want to confuse you about things. He’s proposed—’
‘Mam, it’s ridiculous. You’ve made yourself look ridiculous.’
Maggie threw Wilbur a heated stare. ‘Wilbur, don’t talk to your mam like that. Can we all just try and be civil and have a nice Sunday meal?’
‘A very good idea,’ said the Ghost. ‘And completely ignored. I was such a hot-tempered fool …’
‘—and I accepted his proposal,’ finished Edith.
The room hung with the news. Wilbur was clenching so hard they could see his jaw move.
‘Don’t worry, Maggie. I don’t want to get in the way any longer. I think I should go now.’
‘Jesus Christ, Mam.’
‘I’m sorry, Mam,’ said the Ghost, feeling something like tears in his eyes, while the Dreamer stood beside him, lost for words.
Maggie tapped his knee under the table. ‘Well, if it makes you happy, it makes us happy, doesn’t it, Wilbur?Wilbur? Wilbur!’
But Wilbur was standing up now, throwing his napkin down on the table, right next to the carrots. He stormed out of the room.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Maggie. ‘He’s just been a bit overworked recently.’
Edith sighed. ‘It’s all right, love. It’s not your fault … I should have made him feel happier from the start.’
And just then the unseen observers heard the faint rhythmic chugging of the train, ready to take them further down the line.
Not Every Stop Is a Crash
‘I heard a poll reported on the radio once,’ said the Ghost, back on the train. ‘About the most common regrets of the dying. One was wishing they hadn’t worked so hard. And the others were about courage. The courage to be yourself, the courage to express your feelings. They all seem related to letting go of fear. I have lived a life in perpetual motion. I was stuck for ever in that car. Always racing. I needed to realise that not every stop is a crash.’
The Dreamer liked that, and echoed it. ‘Not every stop is a crash. Yeah.’
They sat quiet for a moment of reflection.
The Ghost sighed after a little while, and said, ‘I miss him so much.’
‘Yeah. Me too.’
The Heaviness of Dead Men
A little later Agnes walked into the carriage holding a book.The Big Sleepby Raymond Chandler. One of her favourites. The train rattled and she fell awkwardly onto a seat, holding onto her hat with her free hand as she landed beside the Ghost and opposite the Dreamer.
‘The ride has definitely become a little rockier since the rules were broken,’ said Agnes, looking at the Ghost.
‘Sorry, Agnes,’ said the Ghost. ‘My fault.’
‘As I said to you before you staged your mini-rebellion, we are in a whole new world of uncertainty now.’
‘Yes, I get that …’ The reality of the situation was finally being felt by the Dreamer. ‘At the end, I’ll wake up, right?’
‘Yes,’ said the Ghost. ‘Hopefully.’
Agnes tutted. ‘He sacrificed eternity for a possibility that might not exist.’
The Dreamer looked genuinely scared.
