Page 7 of Dead Serious Halloween Special

“This wasn’t me, I found it like this.” I frown down at the carton.

“My money’s on Ted.”

“Well, it’s not going to be Judy, is it?” I reply.

Dusty scoffs. “No way. That woman is as prim as Dame Maggie Smith.” She pauses a moment thoughtfully. “God rest her soul,” she adds for good measure.

“Is she…”

“Oh, yeah.” Dusty nods. “She’s having a whale of a time with Alan Rickman. They were setting up a theatre group and putting on a production ofKing Learwhen I last looked in.”

“Okaay…” I look down at the glittery footprints, about to point them out to Dusty, and blink. They’re gone.

Did I imagine them? Shaking my head in confusion, I decide it’s probably best not to think too hard about it. Weird shit has a tendency to happen around me all the time. It’s probably one of the other mortuary ghosts playing a Halloween prank.

Tossing the carton in the bin, I grab a handful of paper towels and mop up the milk from the floor. I throw that into the bin too, and close the door to the fridge. Tugging my beanie from my coat pocket, I pull it down over my wildly curling hair and nod to Dusty.

“Let’s get going, then, before Chan and Harrison start fighting over Halloween decorations.”

“Fine,” Dusty mutters. “But my money’s on Chan. You’ve never seen him at a boxing day sale. He’s feisty as fuck.”

Ignoring the closed sign on the shop door, I open it up and step inside, followed by my ghostly entourage. I’ve given up even thinking about how weird my life is and just go with the flow.

“Tris,” Chan calls across the room.

“Hey, Chan.” I pull off my glasses, which have steamed up from being out in the cold, and wipe them clean with the cuff of my hoodie before sliding them back onto my face. Now I’m able to see better I notice he’s standing halfway up a ladder, hanging bats made of crepe paper from the ceiling, which has already been festooned with garlands of orange and black punctuated by hundreds of fairy lights. “Looking good.” I unbutton my coat.

Chan laughs in delight and gives his arse a little shimmy in his skintight jeans. He bounces down the steps of the ladder, agile as a cat, and flips his long silky hair over one shoulder.

“Where’s Aidan?” I ask, expecting to see him with Chan. It’s half term and I know he’s not at college this week.

“Where do you think?” Chan snorts.

“Off with Nick, by any chance?”

“There you go.” Chan turns his attention to Dusty and blows her a kiss. “Hey, sweetie. Well, don’t you look ready to party.”

“She looks like she’s about to audition for a place inSgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band.” I eye her brightly coloured sequinned military jacket with huge shoulder pads and epaulets and the thigh-high boots. “You’re seriously not going to have any trouble guiding spirits wearing that. They’ll be able to see you coming a mile off.”

Dusty snorts. “Excellent. Just the look I was going for.”

“Where have the others gone?” I ask her, glancing around.

“They’ve gone to see Bruce,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Who’ve gone to see Bruce?”Harrison steps through the doorway at the other side of the cavernous room, carrying a large box which he sets down beside a few more of a similar size.

“Ian, Dave, and Terry,” I reply.

“Really, Tristan.” Harrison sighs. “You trail dead people behind you like someone wandering out of a public bathroom with toilet paper stuck to their shoe.”

“Prickles still full of sunshine, I see,” Dusty says dryly.

Harrison just rolls his eyes. “As if it wasn’t bad enough that I have put up with a building full of drunk revellers completely ruining a sacred sabbat. Now I have to put up with the dead ones too.”

“It’s not like this place doesn’t already have a spirit infestation.” Dusty shrugs. “What’s a few more? You’re going to be uptight about it either way.”

“Don’t listen to her, Harrison.” Chan moves to stand besidehim, grasping his arm fondly. “You know I really appreciate you letting me host the party here. The Rainbow Room was simply too big. I wanted something smaller, more intimate this year.”