The Middle Realm Page 5

  “You could also go to jail if anyone finds out you killed me. Now, listen, you have to do this. I’ll guide you. I’ll tell you all you need to know.”

  “No, I can’t,” Emma, said again.

  “Emma, please, will you do it for me?” I pleaded, with puppy dog eyes. “Seriously, if you care about me, you will. It doesn’t matter what made you do it. We’ll find out somehow what happened. But please do this for me. You have to do the internship at Balenciaga. They are expecting me to be there. I’ll tell you all you need to know.”

  “Savannah, I know nothing about sewing or fashion. I’m not the one who graduated from design school. Remember? I don’t know how to put outfits together. You even said whenever I try to dress myself I end up looking like either a drag queen or a blind man dressed me. If we were just going to be going back home to Connecticut, maybe we could make it work. But staying here in Paris seems like a bad idea,” she said.

  “If I’m guiding you along, we’ll be fine. No one will ever find out. I’m going nowhere. You’re stuck with me whether you like it or not. You said you wanted me to forgive you? Well, do this for me and you’re forgiven. So, will you do it?”

  “Fine, I’ll do it.”

  “Good,” I told her, pleased.

  “Savannah, does this mean we are friends again?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  I couldn’t be mad at her forever. She was my best friend. Something caused her to do what she did. I don’t know what it was. I will find out.

  “What do we do now?” Emma asked. She didn’t sound quite as afraid as before. She may be getting used to the fact that her best friend is now a ghost. Seeing me in my new altered state is not freaking her out as much, thank God.

  “Well, you need to go to the front desk and have them call the police. Once the police arrive, you need to file a missing person’s report. Tell them that your friend, Emma George, said she was supposed to visit you today, that she still hasn’t arrived at the hotel and that you haven’t gotten any phone calls or texts from her and you’re worried. Tell them you’re afraid some thing has happened to her. Tell them what I was wearing and what I look like. But, you have to remember to say that it’s Emma George who is missing, not Savannah Montgomery. Starting now, you are Savannah Montgomery. The body that the police will find is supposed to be yours, okay?”

  “I don’t get it. I’m supposed to be you? What do I have to do, again?” she asked, confused.

  “You have to report that Emma George never made it to the hotel. Tell the police you believe she went missing. She would let you know if she were running late. Tell them Emma was supposed to arrive at the hotel and that you haven’t heard from her and you are worried. Hopefully they will find my body,” I said.

  “I really do not want to know what I did with you’re body,” Emma said.

  “I don’t want to know what you did with it either,” I said, truthfully. I was afraid to find out what she did. However she chose to dispose of my body, I hope she did so in a way that was not too gruesome.

  “You better go down to the front desk and tell them what I told you. Before you go, wear a hoodie with the hood up. Just grab my red American Apparel hoodie from one of the suitcases. You will have to get your hair cut like mine before we, before you, take the body home,” I told her.

  “Wait. If your body is supposed to be mine and your hair is different than mine, won’t people notice? Seeing both of us with the same haircut might be suspicious,” she said.

  I didn’t think of that. Thank God one of us is on the ball. In my defense, I’ve been through a lot, and I mean a lot. “You could say that Emma had been wanting a haircut like yours and probably decided to get it cut that way even though you told her not to. What are you going to do with your IDs and personal information?” I asked Emma.

  “I’ll throw all my stuff that has Emma George on it down a storm drain so it looks like whoever killed Emma took all her stuff. When they find her body, she will have nothing on her.”

  “My IDs, passport and other documents are in my wallet. Okay. Ready to go do this. Hopefully they’ll find my body sooner rather than later,” I said.

  With that, Emma started going through my many suitcases looking for the hoodie. I’m glad we’re right around the same size, so worrying about Emma fitting into my clothes should not be an issue.

  “OK, I’m ready. Wish me luck. I can’t believe I’m going through with this. I’m crazy,” she said.

  “You’re not crazy. You’re helping me. Now, remember that you’re Savannah Montgomery and the person who is missing is Emma George. Be careful not to confuse yourself. Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” she said as she opened and closed the door behind her.

  Ch. 12

  I decided I would just wait in the room for Emma to come back. As soon as she came back, we’d plan our next course of action. As I sat on the bed, I heard laughing coming form the balcony. That’s weird, why would someone be on my balcony? I didn’t see anyone come into the room. Unless there is a ghost out there -- or maybe two, by the sound of it. I wondered how ghosts greeted each other. I listened more closely.

  “Oh, Edgar! You just crack me up,” a female voice exclaimed. “That poor little man, the look on his face when you flew in through the open window and undid the latch on the shower door while he was in there was just priceless. I can see, though, why he was by himself, poor little thing. I must say, when he slipped on the wet tiles trying to grab a towel was the icing on the cake. Speaking of cake, oh, how I miss it! It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed any sweets. We must go and bother him again. Shall we visit him again tonight, possibly while he’s sleeping?”

  “Camille, dear, shouldn’t we let him be?” a male voice asked. “He hit the floor hard.” That must have been the Edgar the female was talking to.

  “That little man,” said Camille, “I’m sure hasn’t been hard --

  “Camille. I was talking about the floor, the hard tile floor. You must get your mind out of the gutter this instant,” he said.

  “You said ‘hard’,” Camille said. She started giggling again. He must have shot her a look, because she regained her composure. “Edgar, it’s more fun in the gutter,” she said. “Oscar Wilde famously said, ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.’”

  “If that is true, I will join you in gutter. That way we can look at the stars up above together,” Edgar said. Awe, how sweet.

  I was speechless. Either these ghosts were really immature or they just have a perverted sense of humor. Either way, they sure seemed to love one another. But I wasn’t so sure these two were the right ones to turn to for advice. On the other hand I really need someone to talk to now because I was new to the whole being a spirit thing.

  I decided to take a chance. How bad could they be? They actually sounded like they would be a lot fun to hang out with.

  I went to the balcony. The two spirits stopped talking and doing whatever it was they were doing and stared at me. The male smiled at me, his smile was warm and friendly. He seemed to have no problem with my showing up unannounced. The female, on the other hand, was not so pleased. She stared me up and down. I knew women like this, the ones who were quick to judge before you even had a chance to introduce yourself. It’s so sad that even in death, women still don’t change.

  “Bonjour, Mademoiselle! I was wondering when you were going to come out here. I thought about appearing to you inside, but I didn’t know what kind of spirit I was dealing with. I’m happy that you have decided to present yourself.” Edgar turned to the other ghost and said, “Camille, aren’t you happy she decided to come out and talk to us?”

  “No,” she said, turning around to inspect the railing of the balcony.

  “Camille, that is very rude. You don’t even know her story, yet you’re going to treat her like a second-class citizen?” Edgar asked her, shaking his head in disbelief.

  “Yes,” Camille responded, “Why should
I treat her as a friend? I know nothing about her. She could be horrible for all we know.”

  “That doesn’t excuse you from treating her so atrociously. I think you’re being quite unfair about this whole thing,” Edgar said to her.

  “I am perfectly justified in my actions. Now, if you will excuse me, I’ll be down in the gardens,” Camille said, before she disappeared from the balcony.

  I could see that Edgar felt horrible about how Camille had treated me. He seemed to be just as shocked as I was at Camille’s behavior. I don’t know what I did to upset her so much. If I offended her in any way, I didn’t do it on purpose. Had I infringed on her territory? Was that it? Maybe ghosts were territorial? Did I say something wrong? I don’t know. All I know is that there is an angry ghost who would probably love to kill me a second time.

  “Mademoiselle do let me apologize. Camille does not usually act this way. Tonight her behavior was very out of character,” he said.

  “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it,” I told him.

  “No, it’s not right. She should not treat other spirits the way she just did. I don’t believe I introduced myself. I’m Edgar, and that was my better half, Camille. Well, usually she’s my better half: tonight, not so much. She doesn’t usually act this way. I don’t believe you’ve told me your name? ” Edgar said as he grabbed my hand to kiss it.

  I could hear Camille make a gagging sound from the garden. Edgar and I both laughed. I wondered how she knew what Edgar was doing if she wasn’t even here? She and Edgar must have some sort of connection.

  I would have to find out.

  “My name is Savannah Montgomery. I’m very pleased to meet you,” I said to Edgar.

  “What a beautiful name. Savannah, I take it your physical life has ended very recently, judging by the clothing you are wearing; is my observation correct?” he asked.

  “Yes, very recently. I was murdered only hours ago. It was completely unexpected,” I told him.

  “I’m so very sorry to hear that. Camille and I send our deepest condolences to you, Mademoiselle,” he said to me.

  A ghost was sending me his deepest condolences. This is just a little bit weird. As I looked at Edgar, it appeared that he and Camille were also young when they died. Edgar was quite handsome. He was tall and thin. He looked like a combination of Ben Barnes and William Beckett, the lead singer of the band The Academy Is.... Camille was also beautiful. She looked like a young Jennifer Garner. They looked to have been anywhere from eighteen to twenty-three years old when their lives ended. Judging from their clothing, they looked like they had lived sometime during the late 1800s/early 1900s. Edgar had on a cool bowler hat to go with his impeccably tailored suit, as well as an Elegant walking cane and Camille had on a beautiful red dress with a bustle and short train. She carried with her a dainty purse and a white lace parasol. I would have asked them how they died, but I didn’t know if that topic was off limits with ghosts. I decided it would just be impolite to ask.

  “Thank you. You’re not going to ask how I died?” I asked Edgar.

  “Absolutely not! Not unless you want me to,” Edgar said. “It’s none of my business. If you want to tell me, that would be one thing. But I wouldn’t ever dare ask. A proper gentleman does not just openly ask such personal questions. Especially if it was quite unexpected, as yours appears to have been.”

  “I see. I really don’t know how ghost politics work. I’m still new to this whole thing. I don’t know how to act around others ghosts and what to say,” I told Edgar.

  “Well, Savannah, not to worry. Camille and I would be happy to mentor you. You’ve gone through some big changes recently. Having someone to talk to might make the transition from life to afterlife a little smoother for you.”

  “That would be great, but Camille doesn’t seem to like me,” I told him. Maybe this is a bad idea. If Camille didn’t like me, she might try to sabotage me. I didn’t know what she might try to do. She’d been dead a lot longer than I have.

  “She’ll come around,” he said. “Let us go to the garden to tell Camille our plan,” he said.

  “But she hates me,” I said again.

  “She doesn’t hate you. Once she hears your story and gets to know you better, you two will become friends.” He grabbed my hand. Together we walked straight off the balcony and floated down to the ground. I didn’t know we could do that. As we made our way to the garden, Edgar said to me, “Savannah, please don’t hate Camille. She’s not a horrible person. It’s just that she had been through a lot. Even after all these years, she is still bitter over what happened and rightfully so. You see, her life was taken from her quite unexpectedly, much like yours. She was only nineteen when her life was tragically cut short. Camille and I were engaged to be married. The day before our wedding, she was poisoned.”

  “That’s so sad!” I said.

  “I’m not finished with the story yet. It gets worse,” he said.

  It didn’t take much to make me cry. “Sorry, go on” I urged him.

  “Now where was I?” Edgar said. “Oh, yes, I remember now. Originally I had been engaged to Camille’s sister, Clarisse. About a week before our wedding, I was trying to flag down a carriage to take me home when I caught Clarisse walking out of a restaurant with another man. They were holding hands and she was smiling and laughing. I did not recognize the man she was with. I thought maybe he was an out-of-town guest who arrived early, but I would have been notified of his arrival. I had only worked half day so I would have time to go buy Clarisse’s wedding gift. Earlier that morning she said she would be spending the day in the country with her sister and friends. They were going to have a picnic. This seemed like the perfect opportunity for me to buy her the necklace she wanted. I figured if she was in the country for the day, there was no chance of me running into her in the city.

  “She didn’t see me, but I saw her. I crossed the busy street and casually walked up to her and introduced myself to her male friend. The look on her face changed from calm to scared. The man must have known who I was because he excused himself right away. I asked Clarisse who the man was, but she said nothing. She knew she had done something wrong. I knew she was seeing him behind my back”

  “What happened next?” I asked. This was better than any soap opera, not that I’d seen many soap operas. If they were like this, maybe I would tune in once in a while.

  “Well, I canceled the wedding. I was not about to marry a woman who had been unfaithful to me. She was absolutely devastated. The end of our engagement was all her doing. After the news got out about what happened between Clarisse and me, it was her sister Camille who comforted me. As I got to know Camille better, I fell in love with her. She was only a few years younger than me. I was twenty-one and she was nineteen. A year after my breakup with Clarisse, Camille and I were engaged”.

  “She cheated on you for a year before you asked her to marry you? That’s horrible. No wonder you canceled the wedding. How could she do something like that?” I asked Edgar.

  A year is a long time. I wondered how she got away with it for that long. You would think that someone would have had the guts to tell Edgar. Poor guy. I’m surprised he didn’t do anything to her. If Alexander had ever cheated on me, he would have paid for it.

  I remember that time Emma said she had seen him with another girl around town. I remember confronting him about it. When he denied it, I threatened to run over his dog. I almost did run the dog over. What stopped me was the girl Alexander was supposedly cheating on me with. It was his cousin. I had met his cousin many times.

  I didn’t even bother to try to spy on him. I trusted Emma that much. If she thought he was cheating, than he must have been. After that, I learned to take what Emma said with a grain of salt. To think I almost ran over Alexander’s dog, Clyde.

  “Oh, that’s not even the worst part. It gets worse. Compared with what she did to Camille, cheating on me was nothing. A day before our wedding, Camille and I hosted a dinner at her parents’ home. All
of our closest family and friends were present. Ever since we announced our engagement, Clarisse was not herself. She was distant and quiet. She wanted nothing to do with the wedding, which is why people were shocked when she walked out of the kitchen with a special glass of champagne for her sister. Everyone thought she was just coming around, but she really had other plans. She said the special champagne would bring a bride good luck on her wedding day. Camille drank it up. That night she went to bed and never woke up.

  “Her sister left in the middle of the night. No one saw her again after that. The day that was to be our wedding was instead Camille’s funeral. She was buried in her white dress.”

  At this point I was in full on crying mode. That was one of the saddest stories I’d ever heard. I was surprised that Edgar would tell me such a story after not having known me very long. I wasn’t prepared for him to just spill like that.

  Ch. 13

  “Why would her sister kill her?” I asked. “Camille wasn’t the one who caused the breakup between you and her sister, so why would her sister be so mad at her?”

  Camille finally decided to join us. “Because she was a spoiled bitch, that’s why. If she couldn’t get her way, no else could. Because she couldn’t have Edgar, I couldn’t have him either,” Camille said. She went over to Edgar and placed her hand in his.

  “Thank you, Camille. That was simply stated.” Edgar said to me, “Clarisse felt that if she couldn’t have me, Camille couldn’t either. The only way that would happen would be to get rid of Camille, so that’s what she did. What makes this whole thing even more sad is that Camille was killed by someone she was very close to, her own sister, someone that she trusted and loved.”

  So, someone murdered Camille that very near and dear to her? Gee, this sounds familiar. Where have I heard this story before? Stories like this are always sad. A young life ended in its prime.

  What really makes stories like Camille’s and mine sad is that we knew our murderers. We knew them well. They were a sister and a best friend. These were the people we trusted most, people we loved and cared about, the people who we knew we could turn to when we had a problem, the people who comforted us when we were down and celebrated our accomplishments, the ones who promised never to turn their backs on us. In the end, they did just that. I could see why Camille acted the way she did.