Make the Ghost of It: Witch Woods Funeral Home, #3

CHAPTER 1

Iwas in shock. Not only had Basil Sandalwood, my accountant and my crush, just tried to kiss me, but he had clearly seen Ernie, the cranky old ghost who haunted the funeral home.

In fact, Basil would have kissed me if Ernie had not interrupted us. Right now, as strange as it might sound, I was not focusing on Basil kissing me. No, I was taken aback that Basil had seen Ernie.

I stared at Basil with a mixture of longing and accusation. He held his hands up in front of him. Look, Laurel, I wanted to tell you that I can see ghosts, but I thought you’d think I was crazy. And you can see them too?

I frowned. I supposed I couldn’t be cross with him for not telling me that he could see ghosts, when I was guilty of the same omission.

Ernie chose that point to rematerialise. Imagine not knowing that your friend here could see ghosts, too, he said, winking as he said the word friend.

What, did you know he could? I asked him, forgetting about Basil for the moment.

Of course! Ernie exclaimed.

I was annoyed. Well, why didn’t you tell me?

Ernie shrugged. You didn’t ask.

I frowned at him before turning my attention back to Basil. I’ve been able to see ghosts since I was a child. As you can imagine, it didn’t go down well with my overly religious mother. My father seemed okay with it though, but he was never allowed to express his opinion. And you?

Basil nodded. I’ve been able to see ghosts for as long as I can remember. I figure my parents thought I had a lot of imaginary friends. Anyway, how are you feeling now? That must’ve been a horrible shock, that Anna Stiles trying to kill you. You must’ve been so afraid. He put his arm around my shoulders and drew me close.

Just as I was enjoying Basil’s proximity, my mother burst into the room. Fear is not of God! she declared. Laurel, you’re late for dinner. Go home and make yourself some now. Stop inconveniencing people.

I was furious, more than furious. I had somehow managed to put up with my mother since I had moved back to the little town of Witch Woods to run the funeral home. At first, I had missed the bustling city of Melbourne, but I had grown accustomed to the quiet life here. However, nothing would ever make me grow accustomed to my mother.

I put my hands on my hips. "Now, Mum, listen to me. This is my funeral home. I will go back to your house and collect my things, but I’m not living with you any longer. You have to learn to speak to me politely. I’m an adult now, and you need to respect me. This is also my business. If you can’t speak politely to me within the walls of my own business, then you must leave. Do you understand?"

She didn’t speak, but stood there, her face growing redder by the second. I pushed on. I’m going to live in the apartment above the funeral home from now on.

My mother sputtered, and it took her a few moments to find her voice. But it’s not fit to live in!

That’s my problem, Mum, not yours, I said firmly.

Why, you always were a little…

Fortunately, she never had the opportunity to finish her words, because Basil cut her off. Mrs Bay, please do not attempt to speak rudely to Laurel again, especially not in my presence. I take a very dim view of verbal abuse.

I could see that Mum was caught between a rock and a hard place. As much as she liked to speak rudely to me, she was a people pleaser, so she clearly had no idea how to respond. Yes, Basil, she said politely. Of course, you’re right. She shot him a winning smile, and then shot a glare at me before vanishing through the door.

Basil jabbed his finger at the ceiling. Can you really live in the apartment up there?

It’s not in the best of condition, I said, but it’s got one thing going for it.

Basil looked puzzled. What’s that?

Mum’s not in it.

Basil smiled.

CHAPTER 2

Iwoke up and stretched, momentarily disoriented. Where was I? I looked around me. I was lying on a blanket on a wooden floor in my new apartment. I watched for a moment as particles of dust happily danced along the beams of sunlight streaming in through the bare windows.

There was no bathroom, so I would have to use the funeral home’s bathroom. That wasn’t such a problem as it was only downstairs, in the same building. There was even a shower in the preparation room for Janet, the cosmetician, to use. Well, there actually was a bathroom in my apartment, but it wasn’t plumbed in yet. I planned to call the plumber later that day.

The energy in the apartment felt infinitely better than Mum’s house, but I did want my privacy here, so I had to figure out a way to keep Ernie out. Having him materialise in my private quarters could prove embarrassing, and ghosts were drawn to the funeral home.

The apartment already smelt nice, because I had fetched all my belongings from my mother’s house, and those belongings included all my scented candles, items which Mum said were of the devil, or as she liked to call him, ‘The D-Word.’

Still, I wouldn’t have to worry about Mum now that I wasn’t living under her roof. So what if I had to camp out in a non-renovated apartment? I should’ve done this as soon as I arrived in town.

I sneezed violently, due no doubt to all the dust in the air. The night before, I had swept the dust out of the room that I was going to camp in at night, but the other rooms were used as storerooms and were even dustier. I had to make time in my busy schedule to clean them.

I sat up and hugged my knees to me. The night before had been wonderful. Basil had returned after I had brought all my new belongings to my apartment, bringing with him a pizza and a bottle of red wine. We had a kind of a picnic on the little oasis of swept floor in the middle of the dusty room. We’d had an enjoyable talk about our shared ability to see ghosts. Just as he had left, he had kissed me again. I tingled from my head to my toes at the thought.

A loud knock at the front door of the funeral home brought me back to the present. There were no bookings today, and I had intended to spend the day renovating my apartment. I hurried down the stairs and opened the front door.

There to my horror, were Mum and her best friend, Ian, standing on the doorstep. Ian was about my age, and I always wondered why he and Mum were best friends. The only thing they had in common was that they were both religious fanatics. Even Pastor Green was frightened of them, of that I had no doubt.

Mum was smiling, which I took as a warning sign. It was then that I noticed she had a large black trash bag in her hand. She handed it to me quite proudly. It’s a gift! She beamed at me.

Your mother is so generous to you, dear, Ian said to me.

Please don’t call me ‘dear,’ Ian, I said. You can’t be any older than I am.

Ian did not respond, but continued to smile sickeningly at me.

Before I looked in the trash bag, I was overwhelmed by the smell of mothballs. It was as if a government agency had done an experiment to see how strong they could make mothballs so that they could kill the entire population of a town. I tried to hold my breath as I reached inside the bag.

I pulled out the most hideous monstrosity I have ever seen in my life. The item appeared to be a set of heavy brocaded curtains, bright cherry pink swirls with gold embroidered edges on a bright green background of baby-brown-yellow dots. I thought I would be physically sick just looking at it, but that was probably just the smell of mothballs overpowering me.

What is it? I asked her.

Shouldn’t you be thanking your mother? Ian asked me.

I glared at him. At least he hadn’t called me ‘dear.’

They’re curtains obviously, Laurel, my mother said through clenched teeth.

Err, thanks, I said, still staring at the curtains. It was hard to drag my eyes away from them.

They were your grandmother’s, my mother explained to me. They were never used. Someone gave them to her as a gift, and she hated them.

Imagine that, I said sarcastically, but my sarcasm appeared to be lost on my mother.

Are you going to invite us in for coffee? Mum said.

I thought about refusing, but I supposed there was no harm in giving her coffee in the funeral home. I didn’t want to alienate her entirely; I just needed to keep her out of my apartment. Sure, I said. Come in.

I led them into the funeral home’s kitchen, and switched on the Nespresso machine. Ian’s upset, Mum announced.

I looked at Ian, but he looked fine to me. What’s happened? I asked him.

Mum answered for him. It’s for the best. You can’t be unequally yoked with an unbeliever.

I’m not sure I follow.

Mum frowned at me. Audrey. Ian has decided to break up with her, because he’s an ass.

You won’t get any argument from me, I said before I could catch myself. To my surprise, Ian agreed.

Yes, I’m an ass and she’s an ox, he said. We’re unequally yoked.

I took a while to process that, as I knew better than to ask. Aha. Finally, I got it—unequally yoked, beasts of burden—they meant a donkey. Hmm.

So, what’s new, Laurel? Ian asked me.

I regarded him with suspicion. He was never normally so interested in my business, nor was he usually so polite. He was usually busy telling me that I was headed straight to hell.

Well, I’m renovating the apartment upstairs, and I moved in last night.

John Jones won’t be happy about that, Ian said.

I did my best to control my anger at his words. John Jones was a church friend of Mum and Ian’s, and he was a