Ghosts in the Morning - By Will Thurmann Page 0,45

head clear, I hadn’t been aware I had spoken aloud. ‘Oh, nothing, Ian, nothing, nothing at all, just, um, was just thinking aloud, about um, some detective programme I watched the other night, that’s all, just...er...suddenly realised why something happened on it, er...so, dear, how are you this morning, did you sleep well.’

‘Like a newborn babe, Mum. Certainly beats some of the places I’ve been sleeping in, and there’s no risk of bedbugs either, so that in itself makes for a good night’s sleep. Listen, um, you wouldn’t mind doing me a bacon sandwich, Mum, would you? Or a bacon toastie, yeah, that’d be nice. I’m starving, and I need some energy.’

I looked at Ian, ready to moan at him for being lazy – why don’t you make your own bloody bacon toastie - but I shrugged and turned on the grill. It was better to have something to do, stop my mind wandering. I had been thinking about what I had read in the paper about the football player.

‘Police are still appealing for witnesses to come forward. It is believed that Mr. Tolley was involved in an altercation earlier in the evening at the Lioness Pub, resulting in Mr. Tolley being ejected from the premises. They have asked anyone with any information on this earlier incident, or anyone who was at the Lioness Pub that night, to come forward, although they have refused to release any further details about this earlier incident’.

I looked at Ian. He was wearing a suit and tie, it looked incongruous with his long hair and tan. He looked like a surfer on his way to a reluctant court appearance.

‘You’re looking very smart, Ian, what’s the occasion?’

‘Ah yes, Mum, thank you, well, I’m going to pop round town to some of the recruitment agencies. I figured now I’m back that I may as well get on with it and look for a job. I don’t want to let the moss grow under my feet and all that.’

‘It’s grass.’

‘Eh?’

‘The saying. It’s “don’t let the grass grow under your feet”. Not moss. But anyway, I wouldn’t have thought you need to wear a suit for the agencies, don’t you just need to go through your CV with them.’

‘You only get one chance to make a first impression, Mum. I can’t have them thinking I’m some sort of hippy, I don’t reckon they would put as much effort in finding me a job.’

‘Have you asked your father if he’s got anything at his place? Or maybe he knows someone who’s looking?’

‘Er, firstly, no thanks, I don’t fancy working in the same office as Dad. I can just imagine the crap I’d have to put up with, people thinking I’d got the job just ‘cos of Dad. But yes, I did mention it to him, he said he’d ask around.’

I flipped the bacon onto the grill and dropped two slice of bread into the toaster. It popped straight back up. I pushed it down. Again it popped up. I pushed it down again. ‘Work, you stupid fucking thing,’ I shouted.

Ian was at my side, his hand on my arm. ‘Mum, Mum, calm down! Look, it’s just not switched on at the wall. Here, look.’ Ian reached across and pushed the switch at the plug. Then he gently eased the bread down until you could hear a click.

I sighed and Ian looked at me. ‘Mum, are you okay?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry Ian, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit...a bit tired, that’s all.’

Ian put his arms around me and squeezed. ‘I love you Mum,’ he said. ‘Now, go on, take your cup of coffee and go and sit down for a bit. I can make my own bacon sarnie. No, no buts...go on.’

I trudged off to the lounge, like a scolded child.

I took a sip of coffee and closed my eyes. I wanted a drink, but it was too early. I knew it was too early but still...Maybe I was drinking a little too much recently, maybe I should ease off a little, but I was sure it wasn’t that bad, it was hardly like I was an alcoholic. A glass here and there, it was a comfort, that’s all.

Time drifted. Images flashed through my head of blood and bone, dripping red...I felt a brush on my cheek as Ian kissed me, then the slam of the door as he left... I saw a picture of waves crashing on rocks and saw a man sinking beneath those waves, I saw a faint