“Wake up, Victor… Victor! You’ll sleep your whole life away if you keep this up. Just look at him, snoring like the dead. Get up, or you’ll miss your chance at happiness!”
“Adelaide Margaret, for heaven’s sake, let me sleep. It’s my day off.”
“Sleep? You’ll have plenty of time for that when you’re retired.”
“Yeah, and even more when I’m six feet under.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it. Up you getcome on!”
Victor groaned, rubbing his bloodshot eyes as he caught his reflection in the mirror.
“What now?”
“You’re not dressed yet? Go wash up, shave, make yourself presentable. Theres still time. Move it.”
“What time? Whats the rush?”
“The kind that wont wait.”
Grumbling, Victor shuffled to the bathroom, muttering curses under his breath. One wrong word, and Adelaide Margarets slipper would find his head. Shed always been stricteven more so now that she was a ghost.
“Victor, did I ever tell you I can hear your thoughts sometimes? No? Well, now you know.” Adelaide floated cross-legged by his bed, smirking. “Side effect of the afterlife. Now go onwash up properly. And shave. You look like a caveman.”
Arguing was pointless. In life, shed been impossible to reason with; in death, she was relentless.
Adelaide Margaret wasnt just any ghostshe was his ex-mother-in-law.
One day, shed simply appeared in his flat, weeks after her funeral.
“I hear what youre thinking, you know,” she said, drifting closer. “How my Louise ever put up with you, Ill never understand. Youre a relic, Victor. A proper dinosaur.”
He waved her off and shut the bathroom door.
Louise had left him a year ago. The kids were grown, and shed decided she wanted “freedom”called him a tyrant, a misogynist, packed her things, and slammed the door on twenty-five years of marriage.
Hed called her, confused. Shed ranted about “self-actualisation” and some life coach named Merlin Wonderfield. Apparently, Victor had “enslaved” her, forcing her to cook and clean like some medieval housewife.
Never mind that her roast dinners were legendary.
Victor nearly choked on his own spit as a thought struck him. With half his face still lathered, he burst into the hallway.
“Adelaide Margaret!”
“What now? Must you shout?”
“Teach me how to make your beef stew. Please.”
“Ha! As if Id give away my secret recipe.”
“What do you need it for in the afterlife? Entertaining angels?”
“Cheeky devil.”
“Suit yourself. Louises stew was better anyway.”
“Excuse me?” Adelaides form flickered with indignation. “I taught her everything she knows!”
“Funny, because she surpassed you.”
“Oh? Then tell mewhat cut of beef does Louise use?”
“Rump, obviously.”
“Idiot! Its brisket. And not in that potthis one!”
By the end, Victor had scribbled every step into a notebook. Clean-shaven and starving, he sat at the kitchen table, devouring the most perfect stew of his life.
“Bloody hell Mum, youre a genius.”
“What?”
“This stew. Its sublime.”
“And Louises?”
“Doesnt come close.”
Adelaides ghostly form shuddered.
“Are you crying? Can ghosts cry?”
“How should I know?” she sniffed. “You rotten man.”
“Ah, brilliant. Now what have I done?”
“Nothing. Justcalling me Mum like that. Im not even your real mum!”
“Youre Louises. Close enough.”
Adelaide wailed and vanished into the wardrobe, her sobs echoing through the flat.
Victor grinned and reached for the cleaning spray.
“Not like that, you oaf! Use the blue clothhonestly!”
***
Louise tossed and turned that night, dreaming of her motheryoung and radiant, reaching for her with a smile.
She tried to watch Merlin Wonderfields latest video, but the Wi-Fi was down. When she called him, a gruff voice snarled, “Who the hell rings at seven in the bloody morning?” before hanging up.
Not Merlin.
Something tugged at heran inexplicable need to see Victor.
***
She found him in the living room, laughing as chess pieces moved on their own.
“Louise! Just in timeMums about to lose.”
Louises blood ran cold. The pieces shifted again. No hands.
“You look well,” she managed.
“Mum says youve lost weight. Not eating? Have some stewher secret recipe.”
“Victor what mum? Shes been gone a year.”
He grinned. “Shes been haunting me.”
Louise backed away. “You need help.”
“Ask her something only the two of you would know.”
Heart pounding, Louise whispered, “What what was my first word?”
“Duck,” Victor answered instantly. “Because of that yellow rubber one you carried everywhere.”
Louises legs gave out.
“Show yourself to her,” Victor said softly.
For a fleeting moment, Adelaide flickered into viewjust long enough for Louise to sob her name.
Then she was gone.
Victor jolted awake, gasping. Next to him, Louise sat bolt upright.
“Victor?”
“Louise? Did you just dream about your mother?”
“And youdreaming I left you for some life coach?”
A fist pounded the door.
“Enough lazing about! Up, both of you!”
Adelaide Margaret marched in, very much alive.
“Mum?!”
“So youre not a ghost?” Victor croaked.
“Not yet, you daft man. Louise, stop filling your head with nonsense. And you” She pointed at Victor. “Youre learning to cook properly. Starting today.”
***
Later, as they packed for the countryside, Victor paused.
“Adelaide Margaret why didnt I ever call you Mum in thirty years?”
She smirked. “Better late than never son. The kettle whistled as rain tapped gently against the cottage windows, and for the first time in years, the three of them sat around the kitchen table, passing bowls of stew and not speaking muchjust being.
Adelaide watched them both, stirring her tea, her eyes soft beneath the steam.
Outside, the garden bloomed wild and untamed, just as shed always liked it.
And Victor, spoon in hand, finally understood what it meant to come home.
