Something Nice

'Ellie.' Miss Gratton places her hand on my arm, gently. They're so gentle. Psychologists. It's almost as if they're scared they'll hurt you when they touch you, like their skin is made of fire, or sharp, painful glass. Ready to kill.

'Yes?' I say.

'Ellie, Katherine's dead.'

I wish I was glass.

'She is not dead,' I shout.

'What is she, then? Where is she? Where do you think Katherine is, Ellie?'

'She's here. With us. Now.' She's watching me. And Miss Gratton. Sometimes she'll try and pull Miss Gratton's stringy grey hair. Sometimes she'll slap her. She always comes with me to Miss Gratton, whether she's in the mood to lark around, the mood to slap, or, like now, sit in the corner, staring at me silently.

'What's she doing? Is she saying anything?'

'No.'

'Ah.' Miss Gratton jots this down.

'Excuse me, but do you have to record every little thing I say?' I burst out. 'This is supposed to be a private meeting.'

'It is.'

'Not if you're going to let people read it.'

Miss Gratton puts on her most irritating expression, the one that shows how much she thinks she knows, how together she is.

'I'm not mad,' I tell her, quietly.

'I know,' she says.

She never has any expression in her voice. It's awful. I don't know if she's telling the truth or not, so I can't shout at her for lying, or scream, or even just nod, thankfully. I can't do anything.

I hate it.

I'm only fifteen, so my mum still comes with me to these sessions. She waits outside. Afterwards she takes me for a drink and a cake, maybe buying me a book, magazine or computer game afterwards, like I've been to the dentist. This is worse. Much worse. I have more metal than teeth in my mouth, what with my brace and numerous fillings. I know it.

I know what it's like.

But still, still, this is that much worse than the dentist.

'Are we finished yet?' I ask Miss Gratton. Hopefully.

She sighs.

'We've pretty much reached our finishing time,' she says. I grab my bag. 'But -'

I put it back down.

'- To be honest with you, Ellie, I don't really feel that we've got anywhere today.'

'So . . .' I say, helpfully.

'So . . .' Miss Gratton repeats. She looks at her notes. All of them, from the first day I came here. The first session. 'Let's recap. You believe that Katherine, your best friend, is still here with us. She's not dead. She behaves in quite the same way as she did when you were both alive, chatting as she walks into town with you, laughing when you paint your finger instead of your nail.'

I can't help feeling amazed that Miss Gratton has managed to get this much information out of me.

'That's correct,' I say, uncertainly.

'You also said Katherine makes you do stuff.'

'Did I?' I say.

My heart thumps. Faster.

Too much faster.

'Have a sip of water,' Miss Gratton says, thrusting a glass under my chin. 'It'll help you breathe.'

'Thanks.'

'Ellie, is this version of Katherine the same as the one before the accident, before the funeral?'

She thinks I won't notice that she didn't say the word "dead". She's learning.

Maybe.

'No,' I say.

'What's different?'

'Well, she's a . . . well, she's a ghost, isn't she? She's pale. And sort of transparent. Sometimes she tries to knock your coffee over, but her hand just goes straight through it.'

'Aha.' Miss Gratton takes note. 'Now we're getting somewhere.'

This is news to me, but I don't say anything.

'I'm going to let you leave now,' Miss Gratton says. 'But I want you to promise that if Katherine makes you do something, poke someone, or scream at someone - tell her no. Refuse. Pin her down in a chair and put all your concentration into keeping her there while you go downstairs, or outside. Have a treat. If you can manage to do that you deserve something nice, and you can tell your mother I said so.'

'Thank you, Miss Gratton.'

'Amy, please.'

Whatever.

I'm starting to like her a tiny bit. But as I leap out of Amy Gratton's office, waving my hand behind me, I slam the door on Katherine and leave her trapped in the office.

Poor Miss Gratton. She'll never know what's hit her.

I smile, smile at the memory of my best friend in the world. Then I find Mum. 'Miss Gratton says I deserve something nice,' I tell her.