Clipper settled into her train seat and inhaled leather, coffee, and stale cigarettes. She exhaled sharply. Today, everything had to go exactly to plan.
It wouldn’t.
Outside, the cold steel of industrial buildings blurred past, swallowed by open fields where horses grazed, effortlessly chilled. Neat allotments lined the landscape before giving way to sprawling houses with vast glass conservatories—winking their wealth to the sun. Some large enough to hold a swimming pool, a sauna, or a life of quiet luxury.
The engine’s steady hum should have been soothing, but Clipper’s mind raced ahead, mapping out times, routes, and every possible variable like a strategist on a battlefield.
Second Saturday of the month. That meant the onslaught of football fans.
More noise.
More potential for drunken, anti-social behavior.
Her fingers traced the edge of her emergency notebook, bought specifically for this journey.
Evidence. Facts. The truth. Always the truth.
The train lurched slightly. She blinked, catching her reflection in the glass.
For just a second—her loose hair was pinned in a neat bun, and she was smiling.
Her stomach twisted. She exhaled sharply. A trick of the light.
Then, as if the universe wanted to mock her, a passing phone blared at full volume:
"How do you solve a problem like Maria?"
Clipper groaned. Marie. The only unstable variant in all her calculations.
THAT MORNING
Zane had been standing on her blush-red rug, concern etched across his face.
“You do realize this is the same woman whose babysitting skills were questionable at best? Plonking me in front of the portable TV with snacks and The Old Grey Whistle Test while she dealt with the ‘boys’? I used to count how long it took before she transformed into Penelope Pitstop, wailing, ‘Help! Help!’”
“People change,” Zane sighed, gnawing his right thumbnail. “It would be weird if she was exactly the same.”
Clipper bit back a smartass remark.
It was too easy to point out how weird it was that he was marrying the same woman who stormed out of his 21st birthday party—because he dared to talk to their female cousin.
But Zane had accepted her vodka-induced apology at their school reunion.
Fate had apparently given them a second chance.
NOW
Clipper stepped off the train at precisely 12:26 p.m. and was almost knocked off her feet by a wave of sickly sweet perfume.
“Bestie!” Marie squealed, grabbing Clipper’s hand. “Come on, let's go. The tour starts in ten minutes!”
“Tour? What tour?” Clipper tried not to stumble as they wove through the crowded marketplace.
“You’ll see!” Marie’s grip tightened. “It’s the perfect venue!”
Marie finally stopped, throwing out her arms like a magician’s assistant.
"Ta-da!" she squealed. “Look at it! This castle is so romantic. I’m thinking four best men, six flower girls, and Zane riding up the aisle on a fiery white steed.”
“I knew I shouldn't have had that prawn sandwich on the train,” Clipper muttered wondering if this was all a bad dream “I’m obviously hallucinating. This is Northolme Castle, not the registry office. Remember that place? You loved it on Thursday.”
“We were going to have it there, but when I saw this beautiful castle… it just called out to me.”
Clipper snorted. “Called out what exactly? ‘Spend obscene amounts of money’? ‘Convince the internet your love story is flawless’?”
Marie ignored her sarcasm. “You seriously need to have some wild, dirty sex. We can work on finding you a man later.” She winked and elbowed Clipper in the ribs.
Clipper had tried to forget how annoyingly perky—and over-perfumed—this ridiculous woman could be.
“Have you even talked to Zane about—” She stopped mid-sentence.
Her gaze caught on the castle.
Northolme stood tall and hypnotic, framed by a wild blue ocean and crashing waves.
A strange chill ghosted over her wrist. A trick of the breeze. Probably.
Her right arm lowered.
Who had she been waving to?
---
MEANWHILE…
Kai sat bolt upright as the minibus jolted to a stop in the cobbled car park.
For a second, he wasn’t sure where he was.
His daydream had been so vivid, so real, that he could have easily closed his eyes and slipped right back into it.
Instead, he felt the familiar weight of his phone in his pocket.
Silent. Dormant. Heavy.
He ignored it.
Instead, he reached for his glasses.
Sliding them on, he exhaled slowly. “Well done. You didn’t go for your phone.”
Progress.
That meant he was finally free—free from the maze of ultimatums and lies his long-gone ex had built around him.
A fresh start.
Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
The van doors slammed open.
“All right, you lot!” Max’s voice boomed. “Time to go ghost-hunting!”
Kai blinked as his bandmates piled out of the van.
Juanito and The Banditos.
An ‘80s-influenced steampunk band that had no business existing in the 21st century, and yet, somehow, they did.
Kai on drums.
Max on vocals.
Taylor on bass.
Todd on guitar.
They had just released their first EP and were scouting locations for their debut music video, Gothic Illusions.
Northolme Castle was just another name on the list.
Yet… no one could recall suggesting it.
Kai stepped onto the uneven cobblestones, stretching his arms as he took a deep breath.
His grandmother would have called it “a serious case of being out of sorts.”
She’d also remind him—
He wasn’t alone right now.
Kai glanced up.
The castle loomed over them, its stone towers jagged against the sky.
For a brief moment, he swore he saw something.
A shadow.
A figure.
Something.
Watching.
He adjusted his glasses.
Gone.
Max clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, man, we’ve got a tour to crash in five minutes.”
Kai exhaled. “Yeah. Right.”
The band broke into a punk rendition of The Addams Family theme as they marched toward the entrance.
Kai grinned despite himself.
Maybe he was just imagining things…
Marie nudged Clipper. “Check him out.”
Clipper blinked, pulled from her thoughts
Marie pointed to Max “He’s seriously cute.”
Clipper snorted. “Really? May I remind you again that you’re marrying my brother?”
“It says ‘Plus One’ on your invitation.”Marie winked. “One and one make two. So tell me, just between us girls—how long has it been since your last horizontal rumba?”
Clipper huffed a laugh. “How long has it been since you had lessons in etiquette?” Marie grinned. “Oh, come on. Admit it. You need to get laid.”
Clipper rolled her eyes. "For the record, if I was going to do anything horizontal, it’d be with the hot stuff in the glasses."
Then it happened. Kai turned - right at that exact moment.His gaze locked onto hers And then - he winked.
Deliberate.
Calculated.
Dangerous.
Clipper’s stomach dropped
Marie squealed in delight. "Oh my god. He heard you."
Clipper took a breath, squared her shoulders, and met Kai’s gaze head-on. "Well maybe he shouldn’t be eavesdropping on a private conversation "
Kai smirked. "Excuse me? Private? You just made a public announcement that I was—what was it again? Hot stuff in glasses? And correct me if I’m wrong, but you did say you wanted to get horizontal with me.”
Clipper exhaled sharply. "I merely pointed out…"
Kai chuckled. “That I'm hot and doable" He pushed his white-framed glasses up his nose. “ I do love having some positive feedback. There’s a nice spot under the chapel, you know… for when you’re ready to get horizontal."
Then he walked off. Like he hadn’t just fried her brain.
Clipper felt her whole body go white-hot. Marie howled with laughter. She turned—and ran. Marie’s voice chased after her. "OH, IT MUST BE LOVE, LOVE, LOVE
Suddenly Clipper was standing in an all too familiar, small, dark dungeon.
The last time she had been standing here she was 8 years old, all scraped knees and pigtails
“So we meet yet again.” A voice echoed.
Clipper’s breath hitched. She recognised the voice of her imaginary friend, The Ghostly Beau
“Ah,” The Ghostly Beau murmured. “You remembered me.”
Clipper turned, and there he was except he was Kai. But not really Kai. His stance, his expression. The sudden twitch in his left eye felt like a frantic Morse Code
Clipper’s stomach twisted. “I was told I had made you up! How is this..”
"Alright! I don't care who you are or what realm you're from!" Max’s voice cut through the tension as he suddenly appeared in the dungeon doorway. “I want my drummer back! I have two friends getting crucifixes and some holy water, so we can do this the nice way or the exorcism way.”
The Ghostly Beau sighed. "For goodness’ sake, I am offended that you class me as a demon. I am not that crude and unsophisticated. Granted, there are certain limitations. I can only travel through direct bloodlines. Most people call it possession, but I was merely on holiday."
Max blinked. "Excuse me, Phileas Fogg! You have possessed my drummer! He's one of my best friends! Give him back!"
The Ghostly Beau tilted Kai’s head. "You have such fire in your belly. Maybe I should possess you instead. Relax, I jest.” He chuckled. "I couldn't possess you. Bloodlines, remember? Even though you’re all as close as brothers. Now, if you don’t mind, this young lady was about to explain just why it took her so long to return." Clipper closed her eyes, memories flooding back. "I wanted to come back. My age was very restricting. No one would listen to me. Instead, I was labeled a liar. No matter what I said or did, they all believed you were a story I had made up because my two younger brothers were getting all the attention."
The Ghostly Beau’s voice echoed angrily against the dungeon walls. "Poppycock! Who in their right mind would tell you that utter nonsense?”
“That’s it! I’ve had it with you!!” Marie stormed into the dungeon, rage dripping off her like cheap perfume. “First you run off while I was imagining the massive white marquee with matching rose bushes at the entrance and exit—then I find you with two men in a dungeon! I’m calling your brother!”
Max folded his arms. “Your brother really wants to marry this woman?”
“I'm afraid so.” Clipper sighed.
Even though Kai lay dormant inside his own body, he could still sense the venom in Marie’s voice.
The Ghostly Beau sighed. “I can assure you, Madam, that my intentions are honorable. So for you to suggest such a thing is—”
“Steady on, Sir Rentaghost.” Clipper sighed, cutting him off.“This is my battle”.
“You used to call me that when you were angry with my behaviour - such bittersweet memories!”
Clipper glared at him. “Did you forget your manners while I was away? I will get around to you in a minute” She spun back round to face Marie.“All these years, I kept notes backed up with official documents, photos, and receipts—so I would always be believed. And it was you who lied.My entire lifestyle, my job… all based on your bloody lie.So go on. Call my brother you bitch! Tell him how you tricked our parents into believing I was irresponsible. That I couldn’t be trusted to look after our own kid brothers. That you needed to help instead.”
Clipper took another step forward. “ You think this big fancy wedding makes up for everything you’ve done? I bet Zane would love to hear the real reason you turned up at that reunion. I mean, you never bothered before Oh, by the way.” Her voice was smooth but angry. “I hate this ruddy nickname, Clipper.My name is Laila. I saw a ghost in this castle when I was a little girl.I also saw you snogging the face off my brother’s best friend on the patio.”
Marie’s mouth opened. Shut. Opened again. No words came out. Her throat bobbed swallowing the budding protest
“You have no proof.” She spat out the words
Laila smiled.“You’re right. I don’t but Zane does.”
Marie froze. “You're bluffing!”
“One word, bestie—Polaroids” She folded her arms. “Do you want to explain, or should I let Zane do it?”
Marie’s angry ringtone exploded through the dungeon. She frowned, yanking out her phone.
“Ooh I bet his ears are on fire. Be prepared Bestie!”
Marie wanted to dismiss such claims but then she saw the caller ID
Zane.
Marie lifted the phone to her ear. “Zane, babe, I swear those are just-just modelling shots I had to….” She stopped.
Silence. And then— Marie let out a strangled wail as she ran away from the obvious humiliation. “Zane, please, I can explain! It meant nothing!”
"Do you know, that is the first lie I have told in years?" Laila exhaled, satisfied. "Damn, it felt good."
Max glanced at Kai. “Uh—is he still in there?”
The Ghostly Beau sighed. “Your concern is admirable. He is quite safe. I just wanted to be seen and remembered!"
Taylor and Todd staggered into the dungeon, clutching a wooden souvenir cross each. “We got the holy water.”
Todd hiccupped.
Taylor bowed dramatically. “Hello, Milady. I am Taylor.”
Todd sighed. “He’s been watching too much Bridgerton.” Laila wasn’t listening anymore.
Her pulse was hammering too loud. His grip was now steady grounding her in reality. Daring her.
The Ghostly Beau was gone but his presence lingered - not as a spirit but as something else
A choice
A binding
Laila exhaled slowly, her fingers curling into Kai’s shirt.
Then finally she kissed the drummer.
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