Patchy grey clouds dotted across a cold blue sky, hung above Thomas as he walked along the wide pavement on his way back from the nearest corner shop. He and Richard had returned from Joanne's just before midday full of the up and down emotions from what Joanne had confided in them. On their return, Izzie had offered to make a light lunch for them all but found the kitchen all out of bread. Since Thomas knew he and Richard were responsible for eating Izzie and Lucy out of house and home, he'd offered to fetch a few things, and pay for them. They'd been more than generous with helping him and Richard out and letting them stay in their home so Thomas had told her it was the least he could do. Anyway, he needed a bit of time to think. Richard also said if there was any chance of Chris and David being able to get down from Yorkshire in time for tomorrow evening he'd better call them as soon as possible.
Loaf of freshly baked bread in a paper bag in the crook of his arm, Thomas slowed at a junction near a small church where on the corner a modest stone war memorial had been built. He'd had no intention of lingering but something drew him to stay as he scanned over the list of names chiseled into the stone. Surnames with only the initial of the christian name, cold and impersonal in his view. The list was long, and covered all four sides of the base of the memorial. He wondered if it was complete for this neighborhood? Unlikely, since not every man who died was identified or recovered. Also, they didn't put the names of cowards on these stones. He rubbed his scarred hand that held the bread tighter than earlier. Those like him, who couldn't cut it and sought a way out other than dying. Richard called him brave, sensible for what he'd done back then. He said he did the necessary thing to survive. Sybil, when she'd visited them both as a ghost, had reminded him of all those who would have been worse off if he hadn't survived.
"I know this is to mean well, but it just highlights the waste of good lives to me."
Thomas jumped. He'd not been aware of having company as he starred and thought. He'd looked around only a moment ago and had definitely been alone. He supposed he'd been captured in his thoughts enough not to notice approaching footsteps. "What?" he asked, dumbstruck.
"I tried to save those I could." The man next to him said.
"Right? Err...yes." Thomas mumbled, not having the faintest clue as to what his sudden companion was talking about. He shuffled his feet, wishing for a way of excusing himself and leaving as soon as he could. He didn't want to share his troubles with a random over-friendly stranger. But something kept him from leaving.
"I was a doctor, back then you see. Nearby," the stranger continued and Thomas wished Richard was here to say something eloquent to get them to leave. He couldn't get two words out. If the man noticed his eye roll of impatience, he didn't comment on it. Thomas wished he had though. Yes it would portray him as rude, but at least he'd be able to go.
"Oh. I see." It was not until now that Thomas noticed the man's appearance. At a glance there was nothing strange. He was about the same height as him, brown hair, handsome face, thoughtful sad eyes. He was dressed in a white overcoat, the type a doctor might wear. But there was something Thomas couldn't put his finger on. Something wrong.
"As if the war wasn't bad enough, then the Spanish flu not long after. So much death, as though we were cursed. Lives that were supposed to be lived, cut short. Relationships that could have been more, ruined." The man spoke ahead of him, sullen, shoulders slumped forward.
This man, doctor or whatever was a real bundle of joy. Thomas would have said this out loud years ago, when he spoke before he thought too often. Instead he held his tongue and guessed this doctor must be returning from a long shift and had clearly had a bad day. Thomas observed him again as they stood in silence. Under his coat, his clothes were casual, crumpled as though he'd just got out of bed. His skin was pale, not like his own, but deathly pale. Thomas had a little knowledge on the medical front, but it needed no expert to see this man did not look well. Thomas took a step sideways, incase whatever he had was contagious.
"Richard was right, you know."
Thomas froze. "Excuse me?"
The man showed a faint smile, that spoke of a fondness somehow. "He was right. I do like you Thomas."
Thomas gawped. The bread in his arm threatened to fall to the ground. Had he not felt its weight shift, he would have dropped it. "What? Who are you? What do you want?" he asked, a defensive edge to his voice. He'd never seen this man in his life, how did he know them?
"Nothing. Don't worry. I mean you both no harm. I'm glad he has you. He needed someone after...well he needed a good man to love him again. Thank you for being that."
Thomas startled, eyes wide in horror at this person saying incriminating words loud enough for any passers by to hear. He looked to either side of him, and behind to other people in earshot of their conversation. No one had batted an eyelid. "I...I don't understand."
"You do Mr Barrow."
A car slowed at the junction on the road behind him. Thomas turned to look and in the time it took to glance back, the stranger had vanished. His heart pounded as he searched for the mysterious man, and for a logical explanation. He only found one.
…
"Oh there you are Thomas, we were beginning to wonder what was taking you so long," Izzie exclaimed as Thomas dumped the bread and a few other groceries on the table in the kitchen.
"Sorry," he mumbled, feeling more worn out than he should have done from a simple trip to a shop.
Richard entered the kitchen from the direction of the living room, his expression of content fell also upon seeing him. "Thomas, has something happened?"
Lucy approached, concern etched on her face. "Thomas, are you alright? You look tired."
"Pale more like. You look as though you've seen a ghost," Izzie joked.
Thomas collapsed into the chair nearest to him at the table, still in his coat and gloves. Richard seemed all set to come forward and hold him or perhaps brush a comforting finger over the part of his neck behind his ear like Thomas loved him to do. He did neither though, stopped in his tracks, a cautious look in his eyes. Thomas looked between the two women and Richard, knowing what he was about to say would cause Richard pain. "I think I may have done."
"Thomas? What are you talking about?" Izzie asked. "You're not joking are you?"
"You'd think me a fool but no. Something happened, it was odd. I spoke to someone." He shot a careful glance at Richard, who seemed to be holding his breath.
"You talked to a ghost?" Lucy asked in disbelief.
"Sounds crazy but I think I did, though I didn't know it at the time. He was as real as you or me, well he looked like it."
"He?" Richard asked. His voice wavered a little as he spoke.
"Tell us exactly what happened Thomas. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is confused," Izzie prompted.
"I'm still trying to get my head around it myself," Thomas admitted. "I paused at the war memorial around the corner. No one else was around, and then as if out of nowhere, he was standing right next to me. He started talking about wasted lives and then how he worked as a doctor. He wasn't exactly a bundle of joy to begin with, but I understood his bitterness, I share it. He kept on talking. I was worried he'd be one of those strangers who would start telling their life story to me. I'm afraid I was a bit rude. I was impatient to get back. But then he said something else." Thomas looked with caution in Richard's direction who had gone rather pale.
"Hang on," Izzie interrupted. "He was a doctor?"
"Yes." Thomas had a feeling she was thinking the same thing he was.
"What did he look like?"
"Izzie, should we...?" Lucy cautioned her, looking worryingly in Richard's direction. Richard backed up against the wall.
"We need to know," Izzie insisted.
"He was younger than me, about ten years or so. Hard to be sure cause he also looked pale, ill actually. He was dressed in a doctor's coat, but his appearance was messy, like he'd just climbed out of bed."
"But what did he actually look like?" Izzie insisted.
"Brown hair, same style as Richard and I, though again not neat. I think his eyes were blue, not sure on that. He had a kind smile, I remember that clear as day. Even though I was rude. He never raised his voice, even though he was sad. He had great calmness, patience if you like."
"Oh my god!" Izzie gasped. "It can't be!"
"You are thinking the same as me then?" Thomas asked her.
"I must be. I know we can't be sure but..." Izzie trailed off as Richard gripped the side of the kitchen work top to steady himself.
"What did he say?" Richard croaked out.
"What?"
"You said he said something further to you. What did he say?" Richard repeated, practically begging him to speak.
Thomas felt sick. He could undo all the progress Richard had made by repeating the man's words to him. But he'd gone too far now to cut off and lying was not an option. He swallowed, rooted to the spot. "He said you were right."
"And?" Richard prompted, knowing there was more.
"He told me he was glad you have me, and that you needed a good man to love him again. He thanked me for being that man." Richard's expression was unreadable. "I didn't know what to think about that, I was terrified if I'm honest. Strangers don't say things like that. There were some people within earshot they should have heard us but it was as though they couldn't hear us," Thomas rambled.
"It was Jack," Richard whimpered, fighting to keep the tears in his eyes from falling.
At that moment Thomas was released from his fear. He rushed forward, catching Richard in his arms, as the other man looked as though he would crumble onto the floor at any moment. He pulled him in close, tight, hiding Richard's face from the world in his chest, silent sobs muffled. "I don't know what he meant when he said you were right, but maybe it doesn't matter. He's been here, looking over you," Thomas murmured gently into Richard's ear, not knowing if Izzie or Lucy could hear him.
Richard pulled back, though still clung tight to him. He spoke through glistening eyes, though to Thomas's surprise they weren't only filled with sorrow. "I know what he meant." Richard shuddered out a breath, taking his time to speak. "He heard me. He saw us. At the cemetery. I thought I was speaking to myself. I hoped I wasn't but I never expected... I never thought he'd actually be there." Richard let go of Thomas's arm and touched his face. "I said to him at the grave, that he'd like you. I think that is what he meant by saying I was right."
Thomas's heart quickened as he recalled Richard's supposedly one sided conversation to Jack a few days ago. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Relieved actually. I wasn't seeing things for one. He's been here. I can say that for certain now. And he likes you, which means the world to me."
Thomas looked away for a second. Izzie and Lucy had left, to give them privacy most likely. He'd never noticed them leave. "I'm sorry you weren't there."
"No. It's fine. Part of me would give anything to speak to him again, but maybe he doesn't want to cause me pain? I don't want to cause him any either. But I would like to know if he's okay." Richard looked firm into his eyes. "Thomas. If he comes to you again, ask him if he's okay, please? I know it's a long shot but..."
"I will. Ghosts seem to like me."
Richard frowned in confusion. "What?"
"You know...Sybil, when she was in our bedroom?"
"Oh that. Yes, well..." Richard trailed off, snuggling into him again, resting his head on Thomas's shoulder. Thomas closed his eyes, breathing a sigh of relief that he hadn't broken Richard all over again.
Note: I have a question for you all, would you like Richard to see Jack? And if yes, would you like it to be Richard just seeing him, like a face in a crowd for a moment, or would you like them to speak briefly? I can't decide so I'd love to know your thoughts. I may not listen to them, but I need ideas!
The next chapter may be longer than usual. I'm going on a short holiday in a few weeks time and I'm gonna be busy sorting things out for that. I'll update when I can.