From the moment she saw Ewan, Lita knew that he was special. The problem was that he didn’t even know she existed.
Ewan was Billie’s cousin, two years her senior. Lita met Billie when she was sixteen and for ten years they were inseparable. Wherever Billie went, Lita would follow. Billie trusted Lita’s counsel more than anybody else’s and it was Lita who had convinced Billie to dye her hair vivid red.
Ewan had entered Lita’s world at a family gathering. An aunt or great aunt’s milestone birthday; Lita found it hard to keep track of all the members of Billie’s family. She and Billie were sitting alone in a corner, the tension in Billie almost palpable, when Ewan had sidled over and asked, ‘Answer quickly. On a scale of one to ten, how bored are you right now?’
Lita smiled at his audacity, but Billie could only stammer in embarrassment.
‘Well, whatever your answer,’ Ewan said with a light laugh, ‘add twenty to get to my boredom level.’
Billie blushed, a sign Lita knew to mean she was relieved. Ewan made more small talk; asked about school, what music she was currently listening to, if she had a boyfriend.
‘Or girlfriend,’ he added with a nonchalant shrug. ‘No judgement here.’
Throughout the whole conversation, Lita marvelled at the effect Ewan had on her friend. Never had she seen Billie so at ease, so comfortable in her own skin.
Yet not once did he acknowledge Lita’s presence.
Two years later, Billie secured a place at Newcastle University. Lita joined her, sharing the same room.
Billie had confided in Lita that she hoped university would be the chance to free herself from the stigma of high school and that she could leave behind the cruel monikers that had followed her from early childhood. Freak. Spook girl. Cole Sear.
But the years of teasing and torment made it hard for Billie to make new friends. She thought she had made a connection with Chantel, the young woman in the adjoining room, until she found out Chantel was gossiping about the conversations Billie and Lita shared. Before the first trimester was over, Billie felt more alone than ever and Lita’s heart broke.
The day after Chantel’s loose tongue was revealed to Billie, Ewan called her.
‘Hey there, brainbox,’ he said into the screen. His voice was raised so he could be heard over the wind.
‘Hi, Ewan. Is everything okay? Is Mum alright?’
Ewan nodded. ‘Your mum’s fine,’ he answered, ‘but I need you to do me a favour. Can you come down and buzz me in? Security on your building is tight and no-one will let me tailgate in.’
Lita was as surprised as her friend at Ewan’s sudden and timely arrival. Knowing that Billie was in safe hands with her cousin, Lita disappeared to give the two of them privacy. When she returned, as Ewan was leaving, she saw a rekindled confidence in Billie and she whispered a quiet thank you to him which fell on deaf ears.
There were more times over the next few years when Ewan would make an appearance in Billie’s life just as Lita was worrying about her most. Each time his presence would reassure Billie, giving her the lift she desperately needed.
Lita considered his visits to be more than just coincidence, believing that he had some kind of supernatural ability when it came to sensing his cousin’s woes. And every encounter built upon Lita’s initial opinion of him, that he was special, a god among men, until she began to feel as much for Ewan as she felt for Billie.
Which was why it was hard that Ewan would not engage with her directly. But as much his ignorance to her stung, it was insignificant compared to the pain of seeing Billie’s dead body. Without Billie, Lita felt lost, ungrounded. She feared that she would float away and be forgotten by the world. She desperately needed Ewan to acknowledge her, or at least the love she’d had for Billie.
Lita hovered around the funeral home, watched as Ewan went in and left with red-rimmed eyes. At the funeral, she stayed at the back of the room but was still struck by the wave of grief surging out from the congregation. Following the family to the wake, Lita found that she could no longer hold herself back.
Marching up to Ewan, she screamed three important words into his face.
With the rigid seat of the pew causing his rear to go numb, Ewan listened as the non-denominative celebrant delivered cold facts of his cousin’s life. There were a few anecdotes included, no doubt shared by Billie’s mum, but none that penetrated the essence of the person she had been.
From an early age, Billie had been an odd kid, more often than not playing alone with her imaginary friends. He’d always felt protective of her, particularly when the other children would make fun of her. He sometimes suspected that even members of their family shunned her.
He recalled Aunt Gladys’s 60th birthday party. A room at the local civic centre had been hired and a large number of people invited. The room was loud with conversation and music, the heat almost stifling. Yet he felt a sudden chill blow from one corner of the room.
He looked around to see if a door or window was ajar. No-one else seemed to notice the breeze so he moved closer until he saw Billie sitting alone. She looked awkward and uncomfortable, as though the people around her were strangers, so he decided to sit with her for a while. As they chatted, and Billie seemed to relax, the coolness in the air dissipated.
The service came to an end and the mourners shuffled from the room to the sound of Snow Patrol’s Chasing Cars, a favourite of Billie’s. Ewan shared a few words of comfort with those around him, and accepted condolences from others.
As he exited the building, he caught sight of three people Billie had known at university and he remembered the first time he’d visited her there. The decision to go had been made on a whim, brought on by a cold gust of wind that engulfed him as he was carrying shopping to the car. A chill in the air was not unusual for November but that week the country had been in the grip of an unseasonal warm spell. The oddness of the draft brought to mind his odd cousin and, on the spot, he decided to drive up to see her the following day.
Turning away from Billie’s college acquaintances, Ewan headed for his car and waited for his father and sister to arrive. His mother was in the lead car with Billie’s mum.
‘Lovely service,’ Sandra said, as Ewan drove them to the designated pub.
‘Yes,’ Stan replied, never one for overstatement.
Silence reigned for the rest of the journey as they all thought of Billie. Ewan considered that he was the only one in the family who accepted her as she had been, a curious girl without confidantes but with a sharp imagination.
No sooner had they arrived and exited the car, Ewan felt the air cool. He was reminded of how this change in temperature had always preceded a meeting with his cousin. Or rather, how the chill had instigated his interaction with her.
For a fleeting moment he wondered if there were some other agency which had called to him when Billie had needed him, but he did not have time to pursue the thought.
Rising up from nowhere, Ewan felt a blast of icy air stream directly into his face. His eyes watered and through the blur he thought he saw the vague form of a woman. The apparition’s face was set with grim determination as she cried, ‘Billie was murdered.’
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