The Writer by Amy Cross Read Free Book Online

usually so that I can distract myself from memories of what happened to David and Hannah. The absolute last thing I needed was for that guy to bring the whole subject up again, and I can’t help thinking about Hannah on his table while he desperately tried to save her.
    Not all ghosts are dead people. Some are flesh and blood, but that doesn’t make them any more welcome.
    ***
    “I’ve been instructed to apologize to you,” John says a little later, over the phone. “Jason called me a while ago and he said he felt he’d upset you a little.”
    “It’s fine,” I tell him, as I set my toothbrush back into the glass by the bathroom sink.
    “No, it’s not fine,” he replies. “Still, it’s not really Jason who owes you an apology, it’s me. I should have realized that putting the two of you into the same room would be a mistake. It’s just a huge coincidence that my doctor happens to be the man who…” He pauses. “Well, you know, I should have warned you, or warned him, or just kept the pair of you apart. I guess I just thought maybe it’d be good for you two to meet.”
    “I don’t want anyone walking around on eggshells,” I tell him, heading through to the kitchen. “These things happen.” As I pour myself a mug of water, I look over at the window that overlooks the alley that runs between our houses, and sure enough I spot John standing in his own kitchen. “Hey, neighbor,” I say with a faint smile. “I see you.”
    Turning toward me, he gives me a brief wave.
    “I guess I was playing match-maker,” he says after a moment. “I’m sorry, I just thought it might be good for you to remind yourself that there’s a world out there. If you ever feel like meeting a guy for dinner, Jason would be a great choice. He’s one of the most considerate people I’ve ever met.”
    “I’m sure he is.”
    “Did I mention that he’s a doctor? He’s a doctor. That means he’s got money, and at least some degree of intelligence.”
    “I’m fine as I am,” I tell him. “Thank you for your concern, though.”
    “I just hope it didn’t freak you out too much,” he replies. “I can totally understand how something like that must be upsetting. Are you sure you’re okay staying alone in the house tonight? My spare room is always available, you know.”
    “I have to…” I pause as I realize that although the offer is tempting, I need to get my life back in order. “I think I can sleep in my own home,” I tell him finally. “Thanks for the offer, though.”
    “I should go,” he continues. “I’m heading up to my cabin tonight to spend a few days working on the current masterpiece. I won’t be gone too long, though, and you can always phone me if you need anything.”
    “I think I’ll survive,” I tell him.
    He pauses, staring at me through our adjoining windows for a moment.
    “Okay,” he says finally. “Well, I’ll probably be in touch while I’m up there. God knows, I’ve got enough plot problems with this book, I need your common sense approach to these things. Seriously, Beth, I don’t think I could ever get this stuff done without you.”
    “You’ll be fine,” I tell him, giving him a quick wave. “Good night.”
    With that, I turn off the kitchen light and, after a moment, I see him do the same in his house. Slipping the phone into my dressing gown pocket, I take a sip of water and pour the rest away, before turning and -
    Spotting a shape in the opposite window, I pause for a moment. I’m not certain, and it’s too dark to really see too well, but I can’t shake the feeling that John is still there, still standing by his window, still watching me in the darkness. I squint, hoping to get a better view, but finally my eyes adjust to the light and I realize to my relief that I was wrong: there’s no sign of him, which I guess means that I just allowed Jacqui’s dumb warning to sink in a little too deep.
    Heading through to the corridor, I stop for a moment outside