"I must say I was impressed by the initiative shown by the constabulary last night, marching on through the blizzard to complete their mission like that." The Captain, as Eliza has learned everyone calls him, paces in a slow line back and forth before the fireplace. Everyone else (all the ghosts, that is) occupies the space before him, sat in various chairs or on the sofa... like some strange club. She gets the feeling they meet like this often, the familiarity of the practice evident in every one of them.
"I'm glad it didn't ruin the reception," Eliza comments, playing idly with the fabric of the lilac dress she has been told she will be wearing for the rest of her existence. "That would have been a rough way to end things."
"No, come on now, none of that..." Pat admonishes as he steps up to stand before the group beside the still pacing Captain. "Let's welcome the new addition to our household with some positivity, eh? Everybody clap. Come on, clap. Welcome to Button House, Eliza. We're delighted to have you."
Obediently, everyone claps along, parroting Pat's welcome with varying iterations of her name. A little awkwardly, she gives them all a wave, not quite knowing what the etiquette is for joining an established group of ghosts.
"Thanks, everyone. Thank you..." she mumbles back.
"We're actually all big fans of your work, aren't we?" Pat enthuses, gesturing about the room as everyone nods and sounds their agreement. "And we like your brother loads. He's a nice bloke - always takes the time to chat with us - even remembers all our names."
"He's going to be absolutely insufferable when he finds out I'm dead. It'll be 'I told you so' at every possible opportunity..." Eliza commiserates.
"To be fair to your past self, it is rather hard to believe," Thomas grants benevolently, poised as any poet should be when sat on a chaise lounge. "Were I still alive, I would be quick to consider it a flight of fancy... some macabre fellow's fatalistic dream."
"How poetic, Thomas..." Kitty chimes in, dreamily. "My sister told me a joke about ghosts once, but it wasn't actually all that funny... I couldn't sleep for weeks! At night, all I could think about was all the murderous ghosts my sister said were watching me! Haha!" The girl giggles as if she hadn't just said something incredibly sad. All the other ghosts wave their hands and shake their heads at Eliza, frantically trying to get across that she absolutely should not question it. Kitty doesn't notice, too busy beaming up at the ceiling as she gets sidetracked by something unknown. "So funny..." Kitty sighs.
Everyone gives a vague murmur of dubious agreement.
Eliza spends the rest of the day shadowing her fellow ghosts, each of them taking it in turns to teach her about the rules of the afterlife. Most of it is simple enough - makes sense.
Some of it, though, is just... impossibly depressing. As expected of death.
On the upside, it provides ample opportunity to get to know her eternal roommates better. Pat is lovely, the Captain is strangely endearing, Robin is fun, Kitty is adorable, Mary is fascinating, Humphrey is genuinely quite funny, Julian is... crude yet charismatic, Fanny is tough but occasionally kind and Thomas...
Well, Thomas is... Thomas is every regency-era period piece fantasy she's ever had come to life. He's right out of a book, but flawed enough to be charming rather than pretentious (though he can still be very pretentious). Just one hour spent in his company is enough to have her feeling painfully shy, like a schoolgirl with a fledgling crush.
Of course, it's also very apparent that Thomas loves Alison. Or, rather, thinks he does.
He talks about her constantly, follows the poor woman about the house and its grounds like a puppy - lovesick and fawning - pretty brown eyes warm with what appears to be adoration. Never mind that Alison is happily married. Never mind that she and Thomas happen to be distantly related. Never mind that one of them is dead and the other very much alive.
Do not develop a crush on the 200 year old dead guy who sounds like a serial womaniser, Eliza warns herself. God only knows how long you'll be stuck here, don't make things more awkward or complicated than they already are. The dreadful eternity is enough.
Dwelling on Thomas, at least, means she is not thinking about death.
By the end of her first day, Eliza finds herself back in the room she had died in. There is no blood on the floor, no obvious evidence left behind by her body. In fact, the room looks as if she had never stepped foot in it... as absent any sign of her as the rest of the world has become. Elizabeth Morrow exists only in death now - in this strange, phantom plane of purgatory - a shadow of the person she had been, forced to linger and witness as life goes on without her.
Alison wanders in shortly before she's headed off to sleep for the night and joins Eliza in sitting by the foot of the bed.
"How are you taking it?" She asks ever so gently.
"I think it's starting to sink in..." Eliza admits, wrapping her arms around her legs and resting her chin on her knees. "Everything's just... so... much..."
"I can't even imagine what you might be going through, but if you ever need to talk, I'm... well, I'll be around, yeah? Mike and I are pretty much stuck here, and so are you, so... just, whatever I can do to make your afterlife a little happier, let me know. Alright?"
Eliza allows a small smile to grace her lips - a sincere attempt at the real thing - and looks upon her new friend with eyes swimming with gratitude. "You know, I really appreciate that. I really do. Thanks, Alison."
"No problem. Of course. I do it for all the ghosts here, so it's not like it's a major hassle. Is there... anything... you need right now? Or in the morning, maybe?"
"Holden. I can wait 'til the morning, but if you wouldn't mind... do you think you could call Holden for me?"
"I mean, sure I can, but the police will have already told your family about your death, so I think he'll probably be coming over here soon enough anyway. He can see ghosts, so it would be kind of weird if he didn't, right? Don't you think?"
"I thought he would come today..." Eliza confesses, mood growing sombre once more. "To see if I stayed."
"Maybe he's in shock, like you?" Alison suggests, shrugging. "I am, and I've only known you for a few weeks. I can't imagine what it must be like for your twin."
"He's probably comforting Mum... oh, god, and grandma too... she's so old. I hope it doesn't take too much of a toll."
"Yeah, I bet that's it. He'll be here tomorrow, and if he isn't I'll give him a call, alright? If you need anything else... just say so. I'm happy to help."
Eliza nods, brow pinched with worry as Alison gets to her feet and stands to leave her.
"Thank you!" She remembers to call out just as the other woman reaches the doorway. Alison turns and offers a sympathetic smile as well as a parting wave.
The night is long and torturous. She fears succumbing to sleep too much to slip into unconsciousness... terrified that she'll wake in another plane even further removed from this one. Death is still a vast uncertainty, one she knows she will never conquer... but at least, in Button House, she does not have to be alone in it.
Sleep deprived, Eliza watches the sun rise on a new day (and hears Fanny's bloodcurdling scream) and reckons that it might not be so bad to have died here, of all places, after all.