Ghost Writer Read online

  Ghost Writer

  By

  Margaret Gregory

  Smashwords Edition

  Copyright 2013 by Margaret Gregory

  All Rights Reserved

  Discover other titles by Margaret Gregory at Smashwords.com

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

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  Please note that I use Australian spelling throughout. You will see ou’s (colour) and ‘ise’ not ‘ize’ (realise) as well as a few other differences from American spelling.

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  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Ghost Writer

  “It’s a great plane, Edwina. Did your father really buy it for you?” Christina asked.

  “He did,” I confirmed, taking off my headset to hear her more easily.

  “I thought he freaked out when he found you were flying,” Christine’s boyfriend, Ralph commented.

  “Yeah. He never thought I would stick at it though. When I got my licence, I told him I could fly him to his meetings.”

  “Has he been up with you?” Heidi asked from further back.

  “Not in this – I’ve only had it a month – but I think I impressed him. He gave this to me for my birthday. He had it done up, checked, had new instruments put in and the outside painted in the company colours.”

  “You are lucky with your old man, Edwina. I can’t even get mine to buy me a car,” Ralph growled in exasperation.

  “You shouldn’t have totalled the Mercedes you had,” I chuckled.

  “Too right,” Ralph agreed.

  I put my headset back on and checked our position. I was about to pass out of one air control area into another. After making contact with air control on the relevant frequency, I thanked them for their coverage and changed frequency to contact the next control area. In response to their questions, I gave our position, heading and altitude, and received confirmation that they had us on their screen.

  Being aware that a change was expected, I then queried the weather at Landsdown Airport, our destination.

  Going up to the resort, I had flown on visual, but if the change came through, I might have to switch to instruments.

  “Cloud cover two octants at four thousand feet. Low cloud over mountains to the north. Maintain current altitude until over the mountains. Adjust barometer to …Mb”

  I acknowledged the instructions, and automatically checked her instruments and adjusted the barometer. Everything was spot on. I signed off and removed the headpiece again.

  Heidi spoke up. “It’s been a great week end. We should do it again soon. Maybe you can convince John to come next time.”

  With a forced laugh, I said, “John reckons he feels green at the mere thought of flying. But at least he didn’t claim I was a twit at business.” I didn’t want to admit yet that I had broken up with John.

  “So does your Dad still want to keep you out of his business?” Christine asked.

  “Not keep out, exactly. He’s let me follow him around since Mum died. It’s more that he thinks I am like her and really have no interest in the business. He tells me I should have fun while I am young.”

  I heard what sounded like radio static and put my headpiece back on. If it was a call, they didn’t repeat it. I checked the instruments again. All were reading as they should. The static came again, but the radio was still on the correct frequency. Perhaps there was a radio below transmitting on an adjacent frequency. It couldn’t have been lightning. No storms were forecast with the change. If the forecast had changed, the controller would have mentioned it.

  Ralph leant forward over the passenger seat. “Do we have to fly through those clouds? They are sitting on the hilltops.”

  “Yes, but its okay. Those hills are all below three thousand feet. I will be flying at four thousand.” I pointed to the altimeter. “At it is clear enough over the airport.”

  Ralph sat back.

  Just then, the plane shuddered.

  “Just some turbulence,” I assured them quickly, noticing that the altimeter needle was wavering – not steady, but it was still averaging four thousand. I replaced the headset and checked our position by the radio beacons.

  With the mountains approaching, I needed to concentrate. There could be more turbulence there. There was more radio static, which I ignored. Then cloud closed around the plane and my chatting passengers fell silent. After a while, I felt a nudge on my shoulder.

  “This is spooky,” Heidi said when I lifted one earpiece.

  “I know. I don’t like flying blind. That is why I qualified on instruments.”

  I glanced back to them, scanning them all and then looked out the cockpit window. For a moment, the cloud thinned and I saw a dark bulk in front of us.

  “Holy Mother…” I muttered, as I pulled hard on the controls.

  The plane struck the hillside, and then, there was only blackness.

  I looked down at the wrecked plane. It had slid down the hill, scarring the hillside and crashing through young trees. The white and blue fuselage had broken open. People were walking all around it. Policemen, ambulance men, firemen.

  As I watched, I saw bodies being placed on stretchers and covered over. From the first, I saw a glowing figure rise up and turn to stare up at where I stood watching.

  Heidi screamed at me, “This is your fault! My little baby girl is motherless. I won’t be there for her.”

  I backed off a pace, filled with horror at the anguish in my friend’s expression.

  Ralph, another glowing figure, stood up from the second stretcher.

  “Yeah, I guess you don’t have what it takes. Will your daddy replace your wrecked plane?”

  A third glowing figure stood beside me. “What went wrong?” Christina asked, looking away from Ralph as if disagreeing with his words.

  “I don’t know,” I said, anguished. I turned to Christina’s glowing form and saw she seemed to be listening to someone. “Come on Edwina, we don’t belong here now.”

  “No! Not yet. I want to know what happened.” I saw the glowing forms of my friends becoming dimmer.

  I heard a new voice. It was soft, gentle, enticing…

  “Come, Edwina, it’s your time…”

  “Why?” I wailed and looked around to see a glowing figure of a woman dressed in white.

  “Accidents happen.”

  “No. I did everything right. The plane was checked. I checked everything. I shouldn’t have crashed.”

  “Accidents happen,” the voice said again.

  “No. Not like this. Three of my friends are dead – heck – I’m dead, aren’t I? They hate me. They blame me – and I want to know why.”

  “They may hate you now, but once they have had a chance to rest, they will be ready to watch over the ones they have left behind, or go around again.”

  “I am not ready to go anywhere. This can’t be my fault.”

  “What if it is?”

  “Do you know that?”

  “No, but if you come with me – all that won’t matter.”

  “Then no, I won’t go with you! I want to know if it was my fa
ult and if it was – well, I would know.”

  “And if it wasn’t - what then? Will you want to blame someone? Want to get revenge?”

  “No, I want the truth. How can I rest if I don’t know?”

  “Come up then, and ask for the truth.”

  It was seductive.

  “Why can’t you go there and find out?”

  “I can’t. I am a collector of souls. I can only deliver.”

  “Then I am not going.”

  A second glow joined the one talking to me. “All must come in the end,” a deeper voice spoke.

  “I am not coming yet!”

  “Very well, but yours is a lonely choice.” The second glow took the shape of a worldly looking man of middle age.

  “Who are you? Another soul collector?” Edwina asked.

  “Not exactly, but I can offer you a choice.”

  “What?”

  “If you go up, you can find the truth, but you cannot go back. Or if you stay here, you might discover the truth, and try to help those who have stayed behind.”

  “I’ll stay.”

  “It won’t be easy. Only one person will be able to see you, and you must complete a task.”

  “What?”

  “There’s a woman, contemplating dying. It isn’t her time. Help her, and perhaps you will be able to find out what you want. Only guardian souls are allowed to stay on Earth.”

  “I’ll help the woman and I will find out why I died. I won’t give up. I promise. I’ll prove I can do this even if I never had a chance to prove myself to my father.”

  The glowing figures bowed to her.

  “Can I stay here a while?” I asked.

  “Time is already passing.”

  I looked around. The plane was gone and the scar on the hillside was becoming hidden by new growth.

  “Where is the plane?”

  “Gone to be investigated. Come, you have a task to do. Do it well, and you can choose your next placement.”

  The man shape glow reached out and touched me. Time and space vanished. A garden replaced the scarred hillside. The glowing man faded out.

  “Wait! What do I do?”

  There was no answer.

  “It’s up to me,” I thought, suddenly feeling very alone and very sad.

  A breeze tickled me, bringing the smell of roses. I wiped a phantom tear from my eyes and saw the array of roses in front of me. Roses of red, white, yellow and pink.

  My first thought was of how peaceful it was in that little garden. Oh, you could hear the children at the playground in the park, but they were distant – beyond the ornamental privet hedge.

  Then I saw the woman. She was alone – sitting on the patio of the house – in one of those awful white plastic chairs. I never found those things comfortable and she didn’t look relaxed. She was leaning back, but she had her right leg locked behind the left, and she was clutching something flat. Her gaze seemed fixed on something in front of her.

  I looked that way as well. The roses were in full bloom, red, yellow, pink and white. The scent was heady, I could have stared at them for hours too, but I didn’t think she was seeing them. I wandered closer.

  “Evening!” I called as I passed her. She didn’t even twitch an eye.

  That, I thought, is a woman with a problem. Maybe that was reason I was there – in the garden.

  I studied her from near the rose bushes. The sun reflected off her reading glasses and put a glow on the rest of her face. She would be a lovely woman – if she hadn’t retreated so far into herself that her face looked almost as serene as it would in death.

  I shivered. The thought of dying still affected me. Surely she hadn’t. No, I would know if she’d died, and yes, her chest and the clutched book above it, rose and fell regularly. I needed to rouse her so that she didn’t stay there all night.

  Again I walked past her – closer this time. I could see that her knuckles were white, and the book had a red cover. Her position hadn’t changed. From the blankness in the eyes above the glasses, she might have been considering ending it all. But she was still young – it wasn’t her time to die.

  I shivered again and called aloud, “Good evening.”

  Looking back over my shoulder, I saw her face was wearing a faint frown. It was a start. I continued through the gap in the hedge.

  The next time I crossed in front of her, the frown deepened. Still clutching the book, she stood and called to me.

  “Hey! Who are you?”

  I looked over my shoulder and smiled. “Edwina,” I said. “Pleased to meet you.”

  With that, I continued walking into the park and took a seat on the now deserted swings. She followed me – still clutching the book.

  “What were you doing in my garden? It’s private,” she challenged me, and stared at me from over the top of her glasses.

  “It’s lovely,” I said.

  “But how did you get in? Each time you seemed to be walking out.”

  I shrugged and began to swing slowly. She was still looking down at me.

  “That severe look doesn’t suit you,” I chided gently.

  “You look too young to know anything,” she snapped.

  “Try me,” I invited.

  She slumped on to the other swing, sitting stiffly and disinclined to talk.

  “What’s so precious about the book?” I asked, noting that she clung to it more tightly.

  I swung gently, waiting for her to answer.

  “It’s my problem,” she said eventually. She was staring again.

  “Maybe I can help?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think you can, Edwina. You see, I’m suddenly responsible for a whole company. The jobs of over forty men and I don’t know a thing about business.”

  The book, when it was lowered to her lap had the lettering, “B and S Marriot Manufacturing Ledger 2005.”

  “Which are you – B or S?”

  “S – I’m Susannah Marriot.”

  “So where is B?”

  “Bryan?” she shrugged. “Gone.”

  “Dead?” I asked delicately.

  “No – just gone.”

  “Ah! So when did this happen?”

  “Three months ago. He just disappeared.”

  “So, who has been running the company since then?”

  “The manager.”

  “And he’s…?”

  “Walked out. Quit. He’s dumped everything on me.”

  “And that’s the problem?”

  “Only the start.” Susannah shook her head. “I’m going to lose everything. The business, the house – everything. I might even end up in jail. Even though I have never had anything to do with the business – I’m still listed as a director. So they will crucify me.”

  “How come?” I didn’t know if what she said was right, but she believed it and I didn’t think it was fair. I wished that I could ask advice of my father’s lawyers.

  “The company is going to be sued. They claim one of our instruments was faulty and caused the death of four people. Our whole production and testing procedure is to be investigated. I have to stop production and an outside tester has to check all our stock of instruments. The company is just barely keeping ahead. If we can’t sell anything, in a month I won’t be able to keep paying the men, and if I have to pay lawyers or costs or compensation – I don’t have a hope.”

  “Do you think Bryan or your manager knew about this?”

  “Bryan – no. If he had wind of this, he would have taken it as a personal insult. He does all the testing and calibration. He has no imagination, but to him – the reputation of the company is sacred. As for Mc Murtee – he must have known. He gave me the books this morning and the warrant was served this afternoon.”

  “So the workers don’t know yet?”

  “No. I will have to tell them tomorrow, I suppose,” Susannah sighed.

  “If it wasn’t for that warrant – what would you do?”

  Susannah clutched the book to her
chest again.

  “I don’t know how to run a business and I don’t know that I can sell it without Bryan’s agreement.” Susannah was a realist. “Maybe I could hire a new manager – if I knew how to choose a good one.”

  I had a thought. “You might not know how to run the business – yet – but the men know their jobs. You could learn – with their help.”

  “Them? Why would they obey me? I am just Bryan’s “decoration” – only useful for impressing important clients.” Her knuckles went white again.

  “What skills do you have?” I asked.

  “I did all Bryan’s correspondence. He was hopeless at that.”

  I chuckled. “That proves that he didn’t think you were totally useless.”

  “No? He laughed when I told him I wanted to do a management course.”

  “He’s an idiot. Do you love him?”

  “That’s an odd question. He’s my brother. I like him well enough – even if he does think me brainless. I still can’t believe that he just walked out on the business. We inherited it from our father and well – it’s Bryan’s whole life.”

  “When you go to the factory tomorrow – could I come?”

  “What could you do, Edwina?”

  “Moral support,” I said immediately. “I could be your secretary. Nobody would pay any attention to me then.”

  “Well, I’d appreciate both. I didn’t know who to turn to for help.”

  “Done,” I agreed.

  After a while I continued. “Have you thought about what you need to do?”

  “I don’t know where to start,” Susannah admitted.

  “Have you looked at the ledger?”

  “Yes. All I can tell is that the company has been steadily losing money over the last year.”

  “I think you should get an auditor to look at it.”

  “Why?”

  “You don’t know the business. You might be missing something obvious.”