Page 54 of Crazy Spooky Love

I picked up the Polly Pocket diary from the kitchen table at Scarborough House on my way out a couple of days ago and it had revealed much more about Lloyd’s disturbed state of mind.

His love for Maud was bottomless and obsessive.

Being Douglas’s twin had cast him forever in the shade; I could easily see how that had happened, because Douglas shone like bright summer sunshine.

Lloyd grew into a boy who learned how to hate early, and he became adept at masking that hate with theatrics and drama.

It had been all too easy to get away with murder, to take Douglas down rather than risk him turning his spotlight onto Maud, and then for Lloyd to deflect the blame onto serious, studious Isaac.

I’m just glad to have been able to give Isaac the justice he deserved, even if it was a century too late.

It’s just as well that the story is meaty enough to carry the front page without any mention of the ghosts, because there is none.

Or more accurately, there’s one passing reference to Leo Dark’s spurious involvement inserted purely to take a snarky potshot, but beyond that, absolutely nothing.

It’s as if it never happened at all. In years gone by he wouldn’t have hesitated to name-check me with every bit as much derision as Leo, so I count my omission as progress, of sorts.

Fletcher Gunn is never going to view this beautiful world of mine in anything but black and white, and it’s him who is losing out there, notme.

I flick through the pages and my eyes settle on Fletch’s face next to the cinema review column, and I recognize the title of the film as the Scarlett Johansson movie we watched together the other night.

A far more entertaining evening than anticipated.

I expected two hours of run-of-the-mill romantic nonsense, and whilst it was at times somewhat outlandish, my attention was gripped throughout.

I’m not sure what it is that makes her so special; she has an unassuming charisma and infuriating charm.

She seems to wear her heart not so much on her sleeve as on the outside of her body.

A combustible five stars—consider me in line for the sequel.

I smile and then close the paper. Lestat’s definitely not defacing this one.

Monday morning finds us all back in the office. Artie sticks his lunch box in the fridge and makes straight for the kettle, and Marina peels the lid off Nonna Malone’s pretty biscuit tin to show me today’s treat.

“Ricciarelli,” she says. “Macaroons to you.”

Man, I love macaroons. I reach out to snag one but she bangs the lid down, disappointing not just me but Lestat. He’s sussed out that Nonna’s tin means treats, and he’s just hurtled across the room to stretch himself up Marina’s leg and stare at her with his tongue hanging out to one side.

“Only you could choose a dog with a bigger sugar addiction than you,” she says, stashing the tin safely on a high shelf.

“I didn’t choose him. He chose me, remember?”

I watch Lestat amble back to his bed and feel an unexpected wash of affection. I didn’t expect a dog to be part of my twenty-seventh year, but he’s here now and he’s embroidered himself into the fabric of my life. He might be a pain in the ass, but he’s my pain in the ass.

I glance around at the others as they go about the business of getting the new working week underway.

Marina is helping Artie finish up making the morning tea and coffee, and they’re laughing quietly about something I can’t quite hear.

Glenda’s behind her desk, a pencil tucked into her hair as she types.

I press pause for a second inside my head and just allow myself to feel a momentary warm glow of pride.

Two months ago I turned twenty-seven, and my feet have barely touched the ground since.

It’s like someone pressed the fast-forward button, and that someone is me.

I did this. This agency is mine. I made it happen from spun-sugar dreams and superhero hopes and the luck of the Magic 8 Ball.

I’m a businesswoman now, and I’m on my way to being badass.

I can’t say my romantic life is following the same upward trajectory, but I’m definitely not lonely anymore.

I’ve been romanced by a ghost, a handsome man from the past whose kiss will remain on my hand forever.

Leo Dark has walked back into the middle of my life and is ninety percent idiot and ten percent idol.

I have no doubt that our paths will stay intertwined, so who knows which way those percentage sliders will go in the future?

And then there’s Fletch. What can I say about Fletcher Gunn?

The man is mercurial. He and I will never, ever see eye to eye on pretty much anything, but he is quicksilver in my veins when he touches me.

He doesn’t just turn me on. He switches me on like a lighthouse, and that is pretty much as bright a light as I can imagine.

I’ve filed him tantalizingly in my to-be-continued file at the moment, because like the sea and the rocks, there’s always a next time withus.

“Earth to Bittersweet, earth to Bittersweet,” Marina says, flicking her gum packet at me to get my attention. She directs my attention toward Glenda when I lookup.

“There’s a woman on the phone for you.” Glenda covers the phone discreetly as she speaks. “She wants to come in and see you urgently about a problem she’s having with the ghost of a circus ringmaster and his pet lion.”

I pass her the diary and grin. “Book her in.”