Prologue

Nell turned the little ceramic ghost over in her hand. It was smiling at her sweetly, a lantern glued to its ghostly arm. A black button at the base instructed her to ‘press me.’ She did, and the lantern lit up with a soft glow.

“Oh,” Nell whispered fondly, before tears began to spill down her cheeks. “Shit.” She wiped them away hastily, the pink of her blush staining her cuff.

She was alone in her favourite charity shop, aside from the volunteer assistant sorting through a pile of DVDs. This time of year, the shop went all out with autumnal décor: low lighting, the scent of cinnamon and clove heavy in the air, the shelves peppered with paper autumn leaves. Nell usually loved it, but right now she needed to escape. Her throat was squeezed so tight it was hard to swallow. She took the ceramic ghost to the counter, willing the volunteer not to chat to her today. They exchanged smiles, Nell’s watery and unconvincing.

Get somewhere quiet, she urged herself.

Outside the shop, Nell stood frozen for a moment. Traffic rumbled by spraying water over the kerb reaching the tip of her boots. It still surprised Nell, even after living in this beautiful, wee town for seven years, that so much traffic could pass through the high street in a day. It used to needle her until she realised that everything she loved about the place was unbothered by it. The town was still quaint, the array of independent businesses seemed to thrive, and the local volunteer gardening group kept the place looking pretty all year long.

A lorry rattled past bringing her to. Nell’s apartment was ten minutes in one direction from where she stood, and a quiet public garden in the opposite direction, but closer. She turned away from her apartment and began to speed walk. Rain was soaking through her coat now, running down her face and chest. She didn’t care. It was her favourite weather. The fact that it was coming down heavily right now in October would usually make her feel giddy, now she was just grateful that it hid the tears streaming down her cheeks again.

Nell reached the black, wrought iron gates that never closed and crossed the threshold into the Burgh Hall Gardens. She took a step forward and it was as though a thin veil settled over her. Everything that was wound tight within her loosened and she felt the rest of the world disappear. The only clue that this had not actually happened was that she was still being soaked through by rain. It was deserted. It was always deserted here and Nell adored it even more for that quality. She knew it wasn’t because it wasn’t beautiful. It was stunning.  

A path hugged by grass verges on either side drew Nell in further. She had walked this path a thousand times. She knew the single rose that climbed the grey-brown sandstone wall and always seemed to stay longer than it had any right to. The gnarled trunks and almost naked branches of three beech trees welcomed her back, giving Nell no relief from the wet as she greeted them silently in return. She took the slick steps up to the main garden knowing if she wasn’t careful she could easily slip on the autumn debris that covered the stone. And then she reached a small crossroads: sit in the rose garden where the shrivelled, spent flowers would welcome her company, or take the expanse of grass where she was less likely to fight for her life just to navigate. Nell nodded abashedly to the roses before stepping on to the grass and making her way to a tree she could let herself collapse on to.

As soon as her coat met the bark, Nell let herself sob. Alone but still out in the open, she stopped the rasping in her throat from becoming a wail. Her back was pressed against the trunk now. Before she understood what was happening, anger rose red-hot from her belly. Nell felt it fight its way up, gripping her heart and throat. Before she could stop herself, she hurled the ceramic ghost. A grunt from the effort following in its wake. Nell watched horrified as it flew past the safety of the grass.

“No,” Nell whispered.

She ran forward. A few frantic seconds of searching before and Nell saw where it had landed. There upon the soil of a border, the ghost lay in one piece, the lantern glowing softly against the mahogany dirt.  

“I can’t keep doing this.” Nell was back home now, dry and in her favourite pyjamas. The little ghost was sitting on the coffee table by her feet.

“You’re right, you can’t.” Liv’s voice was firm but filled with warmth. “It’s been five months, you’ve done a shit ton of healing and it’s time to put that healing to the test.” Nell could hear rustling in the background.

“Have you got me on speakerphone?” Nell asked, smiling indulgently.

“No.”

“Liv…”

“Fine, you’re on speaker phone, but I have so much laundry to do and I can’t have the dryer on past nine.”

Nell giggled. “Maybe you’re the one who needs to do some healing.” Her phone hung loose in her hand for moment while Liv pressed buttons on her washing machine, the sound sharp in her ear.

“Okay, okay I’m here.” She sounded breathless. “And we’re not talking about my inability to sit down and rest, we’re talking about you needing to move on from You Know Who.” Nell heard her best friend take a sip of something. Probably sweet tea. “And joining The Armoury.”

The Armoury.

“It’s only a few days until the next intake opens.” Nell said quietly. She tapped an uneven rhythm on her thigh as she imagined joining.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited at the thought of becoming part of something where side questing was a weekly occurrence and being the Main Character of your own life was highly encouraged. A familiar feeling needled at her. He would love to hear about her doing something like that. He would tease her relentlessly for being a ‘fantasy girly now,’ but he would want to know every detail.

“I don’t know if you know, but you just let out a huge sigh.” Liv sounded weary. “Tell me what popped into your head.”

“You know me astonishingly well, you know that.”

“Yes, yes, I’m amazing. Now out with it.”

Nell’s shoulders dropped. “Doing things that I’d normally tell him about, I keep…”

“Putting them off because it’s too painful not being able to tell him.” Liv’s voice was achingly gentle.

“Yeah.”

“I know, my lovely.”

Neither said anything for a moment.

Liv spoke first. “It’s time to make memories that aren't shaped around telling him about them. Particularly when the person in question hurt you badly enough that I'd quite like to pluck his nose hairs out with tweezers. One by one.”

Nell smiled weakly. “I know.” Pulling her feet from the table and sitting forward, she picked up the ghost. “I’m going to do it.

Author’s note: The Armoury is a real online space and provided inspiration for elements of this story. The story itself is a work of fiction, the names characters and identifying details have been changed or fictionalised to protect the privacy of individuals.