He is not here; but far away
As soon as Rory accepted her offer of sharing her last night in the world, Cathy started to float upwards. For a moment, Rory didn't realise, and then hovered hurriedly after her.
"Wait!" he called out, somewhat destroying the dignity of the situation.
She waited for him to reach her, looking at him with a resigned expression. "Do keep up, Rory."
He bit his lip embarrassedly. "Sorry…" he mumbled.
She tilted her head to the left, and stared at him for a long while, before suddenly breaking into a laugh and bounding away into the sky. Rory kept close to her ghostly heels. "Come on!" she called back to him.
"Where are we going?" he shouted across at her.
"Just a few places from my past," she replied, smiling sadly. "I want to show someone, at least, before…" She lapsed into silence and led him across the park. She touched down on, and then carried on a short distance into, a broad asphalt square. Rory recognised it as the children's play area, characterised by its swings and seesaws. He looked curiously at her.
"Why…?"
"My mum and dad used to take me here when I was little. I'd play on the swings and stuff all day if I could. My friends and I would come here all the time. Did you?"
Rory wrinkled his nose and tipped his head from side to side. He, Benny, and Ethan had never really been ones for swings and parks. "I've been here, yeah, with my mum and dad, but I can't say that it was a big part of my childhood."
"Mmm. Well, it was quite a big part of mine. Quite a big part of my whole life, if you think about it…" She looked sad again, but then shook herself. "They'd never let me come here after dark, though, even when I was much older. I have no idea why. I mean, look at it."
He did. There was nothing out of the ordinary at all. The swings hung in their chains as still as if they had never moved – though that sounded unnatural, in the way they sat there it seemed totally normal. As far as he could tell, it was a normal play area (not that he was particularly familiar with what that was, of course).
Rory looked thoughtful "Maybe they didn't want you going out at night. There might be older kids that hang around. They might have caused trouble."
She nodded slowly. "Maybe." She smiled wanly. "For instance, I happen to know that you can find a vampire lurking in the shadows…"
Rory looked confused, and then realised: "What…? – Oh! – Me?"
She nodded, smiling all the while. Then her face went back to its blank expression. "Anyway, even when I was seventeen – the age I am now – they'd let me go anywhere but here. I always wondered why."
The two of them fell into silence for a while. Then Rory looked up. "Uh… Do you – do you want a go?"
She looked at him oddly. "On the swings?"
He nodded, feeling a bit silly.
She gestured to her ghostly body. "Uh… How exactly is that going to work?"
If Rory could, he would have blushed. This was the kind of time when Benny really was useful. He could have done something about this. Made a ghost swing or something. Rory frowned, indecisive. Maybe he could go and get him – no, that would just be weird… Imagine turning up on his doorstep and demanding that he make a ghost a swing, so that she could be happy before Rory killed her. There was just too much to explain, and Cathy's time was shrinking constantly. Besides, it would be really awkward, because he'd already told them that he was busy… Would they be offended that he'd done something on his own? He didn't think so, but he was sure that they'd inevitably take charge. Normally he was fine with that, but, well, Cathy, it seemed, was his friend. Just his. And, secretly, he quite liked that fact.
"Rory?" broke in Cathy, raising her eyebrows at him. "You seem miles away."
"Huh?" Rory blinked and then stared, wide-eyed at her. "Where do you want to go next?"
She smiled sadly, and went as if to squeeze his hand. "This way, Rory." Her hand passed through his, as usual, and she floated away, Rory close behind.
A few minutes after they left, a shadow swept across the playground, and the swings started to creak back and forth, all of their own accord.
Rory followed her higher and higher, up further than he'd ever flown before. They'd even, to his surprise, reached the lowest clouds before she stopped, and turned around, and sat down on one. She smiled at Rory's confusion.
"Neither it nor I are solid, Rory. It comforts me a little. Come on." She patted the sheet of wispy white next to her. "Sit."
Dutifully, and somewhat confusedly, he obeyed, taking care to hover just above the cloud. He was sure that the cold water vapour would freeze his jeans to his legs. And that would be awkward to explain. He looked questioningly at her.
She pointed down. He followed her finger. Far below was a small clearing in the middle of the park, and, in the middle, stood a battered red bench.
"That's where I used to meet my boyfriend," she said. "Sometimes we'd meet during the day, or at lunch, but mostly we'd have secret meetings at night." She sighed. "It was so romantic, sneaking out after dark…"
Rory glanced down. "Look! There are people down there now."
She peered over at the bench, and I was then that she saw that it was partially obscured by two figures kissing happily. She smiled faintly. "It's nice that people still keep up the tradition. I suppose that bench will keep on being used by couples for generation after generation."
Rory nodded slowly. Maybe he should try something like that with Erica. Some traditional romantic gesture. He looked down again, and frowned. He glanced at his watch. "It's really late. It's a bit odd for people to be out kissing so deep into the night. Especially if they're human."
Cathy shrugged. "Who knows? They might have a special reason for going out this late. It takes all sorts."
Rory looked at her slyly. "We could find out." She looked bemused. "You know, fly down there and ask them. That would really give them a night to remember, if we turned up!"
She stared at the dark haired couple for a long time. "No…" she replied, as if talking from another world, so vacant was her expression. "Let them be."
Rory shrugged. "Fine." Now it was his turn to zone out. "You know, I wish I could do that with the girl I love…"
"Have you actually asked her?"
Rory bit his lip. "Uh… Not really, no…"
"Well, maybe you should try it. What's the worst that can happen?" She raised an eyebrow at him wryly. "You're already dead."
"She could say no…" murmured Rory sadly. "And that would mean that it was all over. Forever. And, for me, that's longer than for most people."
She peeked under his bowed head, smiling reassuringly. "Hey. 'Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all'?"
He grimaced. "Victorian poetry. Yuck. Benny won't stop going on about how great it is." He looked thoughtful. "I don't know… I'll think about it."
She shrugged. "I'm only speaking as someone who actually had a boyfriend. How many other people do you know with experience like that?"
"Uh…" Rory trailed off into silence. "Point taken," he muttered.
"Good." She looked down again. "Well, that pair have certainly got stamina. Come on, it's getting slightly boring now."
As she finished the last sentence, she passed through the cloud and started to float off in another direction. Rory hurried after her. He checked the altitude on his watch. They really were quite high up. Then he noticed the time. It was getting pretty late – or was it early?
"Where are we going?" he called out.
"The cemetery," she replied.
Not long afterwards, the pure white cloud that they had been sitting on darkened suddenly. The couple on the bench shivered and broke apart. They looked up into the sky nervously. There were no stars now, just one dark cloud. With a last, anxious, glance, they got up hurriedly and headed together towards their respective homes. Something definitely didn't feel right.
Had they stayed a little longer, then they might have seen the peeling red paint become a gloopy, tacky liquid that pooled at the iron feet of the bench.
