A Pocket Full of Posies (Book 1)

Chapter Eighteen (Part 2)

By the time nine rolls around, the house has filled with a lot more people our age. Carmen and Ava are having an in-depth conversation about who knows what with some old guy who's friends with Ava's dad, Katie and her boyfriend are probably off sucking face somewhere, Tom is god knows where speaking to god knows who, while I'm sitting on one of the living room sofas as Jamie rambles on about something to do with dead people. I'm not really listening.

Annabel's with us, and she's processing every word he's saying, so I'm sure she'll keep me up to date on any revelations. Despite its impressive size, the room feels cramped, and the heat from the roaring fireplace opposite me is just making me feel tired, so I excuse myself and make my way towards one of the available bathrooms. Annabel goes to follow me, but I subtly shake her away.

To my dismay, both bathrooms are occupied, so as I pass the living room Jamie's not in and spot a pair of patio doors, I decide to just head into the back garden instead. It's not like I actually need to go, I just want some peace and quiet for a bit. Obviously, the garden is something out of Alan Titchmarsh's wet dreams.

It's enormous, to begin with, and if it wasn't dark, the bushes and flowers that fill the place would be bursting with colour. There's a cobbled path swerving in and out of the shrubbery, which is highlighted by small lamps running alongside it. In the centre of the garden is a large, wooden gazebo, which casts a big shadow over one corner of the garden.

Sculptures adorn the place, popping up randomly with no obvious pattern or shape, just the odd water feature here, the odd cherub there; one of which is positioned in a way that makes it look like it's pissing into one of the flower bushes. I probably shouldn't laugh at that, yet here I am smirking to myself, alone in the darkness of Ava's garden.

"In need of some fresh air?" a voice suddenly asks from my side, and I almost wet myself.

I turn to my right to see four sofas--actual sofas, not garden furniture--facing each other on a wooden patio area, one of which is being used by Kato, Ava's mother. She's sitting on it, her legs crossed, with a cigarette dangling in-between her fingers.

I stammer. "Uh, sorry--I, yeah, sorry, I felt a bit ill," I lie.

She waves me over, and being the absolute idiot I am, I glance around to check it's me she's gesturing towards. Of course it's you. There's no one else here, you idiot. I sit beside her on the long, plush sofa as she shoots me a soft smile, and offers me a cigarette. I don't smoke, never have unless I've been mindlessly drunk, but agree out of what I perceive to be politeness.

I pretend to know what I'm doing and light it, then proceed to pretend it's not making me want to choke. I hate myself. So much. We both sit in silence, and I'm not sure if it actually is uncomfortable or if I just think it is, so I avoid any kind of eye contact with Kato as I silently will my cigarette to burn out.

"There's a great deal concerning you at the moment, isn't there?" she asks with no pre-warning, as she exhales a breath of smoke.

Naturally, I don't reply as any sane human would with a no I'm fine, or a shake of the head, or a shrug. I just do nothing. Literally just look at her.

Kato smiles softly. "My guide--guardian angel, if you will. It's not quite as accurate as it would be if I were to do it, but he can see auras." She takes a drag of her cigarette. "Yours concerns him."

I'm really not in the mood for this mystic bullshit right now. I don't know what I expected, really, attending a house party at Ava's house. I take a drag of my own cigarette in hope that I've gotten used to the taste, but I haven't, so try my best not to outwardly gag. Being well trained in the art of sniffing out ghost-related conversation, Annabel is soon beside me.