Eighteen Kisses

of last night’s make-up under her eyes, her dark brown hair in messy waves. She’s one of those people who looks impossibly pretty, even when they’ve just woken up.

‘Sorry for waking you,’ I said. ‘I’ve to meet somebody in town. You get some sleep, I’ll be back soon.’

Last night, after I’d finished my set in Whelan’s, Hannah and I had come straight back here and spent the rest of the night chatting and eating chocolate with some really bad horror movie on in the background. I usually sleep at Gran’s when I’m up in Dublin because I have my own room there, but I also like crashing at Hannah’s and staying up insanely late. I’d only had a few hours’ sleep, but I wasn’t tired. Anticipation was keeping me awake. Sergeant Lawlor had asked to see me this morning. He knew I was up in Dublin this weekend to play a gig, and we’d arranged to meet in the city centre. It was a little unnerving, how he always seemed to know my whereabouts. And also that he wanted me to get started so soon. Unnerving – but exciting nonetheless.

‘Who are you meeting?’ asked Hannah.

‘Just a guy,’ I said casually.

‘Oh?’ She suddenly perked up.

‘Not in that way,’ I said, searching for my wash bag. ‘I already have a boyfriend, remember?’

‘You need a better one,’ she said flatly, sinking back underneath the covers. I chose to let that particular comment slide. I didn’t want to argue with her, especially not at 9 a.m. I put my phone safely on the bedside table, next to the worn copy of An Actor Prepares that Hannah carried everywhere. I watched as she shuffled about in the bed, trying to get back into a comfy position. Hannah disliked Nick, probably because she’d heard too much of the bad stuff. Hannah and I are very close, and so she is one of the first people I turn to when things go wrong. Over the past eight months she’d received ranting phone calls chronicling the disappointments, misunderstandings and the fights involving Nick. I hadn’t told her enough about all the perfect days and the cute gifts and the incredible kisses. Also, because she lived in Dublin, she rarely saw us together. Once she got to know him better she’d realize that we’re meant for each other.

‘Who are you meeting then?’ asked Hannah, reaching for her own phone.

‘A… um… singer, from a band. I might be playing support for them.’

‘Oh, yeah, which band?’

‘Um… Almost Famous,’ I said, reading the movie poster above her head. I didn’t like lying to Hannah. Not just because I felt bad, but also because she’s a really good actress and can spot a liar a mile away. Thankfully she was too busy checking her messages to notice.

‘Never heard of them,’ she said. ‘Cool name though.’

I wasn’t sure what Hannah would think if she knew who I was actually going to meet. She didn’t know that I’d helped solve a murder that had happened in Avarna. Or that Sergeant Lawlor had heard about this and asked for my help on more unsolved cases. She wasn’t even aware of my unusual abilities – I didn’t know how to tell her that I was able to communicate with murdered women. I was pretty sure she didn’t believe in ghosts, and I didn’t want her to think I was weird. On the other hand, we’d been friends for so long that she probably wouldn’t care. But Sergeant Lawlor had asked me not to tell anyone about Operation Trail, and I respected that. Colin, my best friend in Avarna, knew, of course, because I didn’t keep anything from him. And Mum. But nobody else, not even Nick.

I had a quick shower and dried my hair, which was so much easier to manage now that I’d cut it above my shoulders and got a fringe. I’d also let Hannah bleach it even blonder last night, which I was kind of regretting now. It looked cool, but there was the possibility that Mum would throw a fit. She was four months’ pregnant and tended to have extreme emotional reactions to things. At least I hadn’t got a tattoo, so she hopefully wouldn’t be too upset. I was delighted she was expecting a baby; I really wanted a little brother or sister. But she seemed more annoyed at me than usual these days, which was kind of hard to deal with. Des, her new partner, was freakishly patient, which made my impatience even more noticeable. When Des had first moved into our house in Avarna, the dynamic had been strange. Mum and I fought in whispers and I spent way too much time over in Nick’s or Colin’s house. My dad had died of a brain tumour when I was nine, and ever since then it had just been Mum and me. So I found it difficult to get used to the idea of Des living with us. But that had only lasted a couple of weeks. Eventually we started to feel like a family and Mum started to shout at me at full volume again.

‘You were talking in your sleep last night,’ said Hannah as I rummaged in my satchel.

‘Was I?’ I tried to sound casual. I didn’t want to tell her I’d had a nightmare.

‘Yeah; couldn’t figure out what you were saying though. I’d never heard you talk in your sleep before.’

‘It’s probably cos we watched that movie,’ I said. ‘Pretty scary stuff.’ I avoided looking at Hannah after yet another lie. I busied myself by putting on my floral dress, purple leather jacket and quickly applying my make- up.

‘You know what’s scary,’ said Hannah. ‘School.’ I nodded as I swept on some lip gloss, relieved she’d changed the subject. ‘I don’t want to go tomorrow,’ she added.

‘Only three weeks left till the summer holidays,’ I said excitedly. ‘Then you can come visit me!’

‘Or you can visit me,’ said Hannah. She hadn’t really taken to Avarna – even the beautiful scenery hadn’t swayed her. She much preferred the city. ‘Oh, I forgot to say, I’m in a play next week, if you wanna come see it.’

‘What play?’ I asked.

She hesitated, and so I immediately knew what the answer was going to be. One of the downsides of having an actress for a best friend is that you are pretty much guaranteed to see at least six productions of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your lifetime. A Midsummer Night’s Dream set in New York. A Midsummer Night’s Dream with an all-female cast. A Midsummer Night’s Dream with robots.

‘This is actually a really good version,’ said Hannah, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible.

‘I’ll be there,’ I said with a sigh.

‘You won’t regret it! Well, you might… but I’ll thank you in my Oscar speech.’

‘Get some beauty sleep,’ I said, throwing the covers over her head.

‘See you later,’ she said with a giggle.

I texted Sergeant Lawlor to ask where exactly we were going to meet.

Ming’s, he texted back.

That’s weird, I thought. Wasn’t it a little early for Chinese fast food? But I trusted that the strange venue was for a reason. I stepped off the tram and walked down Grafton Street.

There were only a few people around that morning, mostly tourists pulling suitcases or staff going into shops. There was a busker playing old Irish songs near Bewley’s, and others were tuning their instruments. I love walking through Dublin early on a Sunday morning – it was one of the things I missed most about it. It’s quiet, so you kind of feel like it’s your own city – your own kingdom. I thought I’d never forgive Mum for making me move all the way to Avarna last summer, but I’d actually grown to love my new home. Yet Dublin was still my sanctuary, a place I’d always come back to.

I passed my favourite store, Tower Records (which wasn’t open yet, so I managed to retain my streak of never passing it without going in), and crossed the road. I could see Ming’s neon sign up ahead, and for a split second I thought, Go back. Pretend this never happened. Go home, turn off your phone, go back to normality. I’d had eight months of normality, and it hadn’t been so bad. But even though it was tempting, I knew for certain that I wasn’t going to do that. It had already started; she was already here. I even had a familiar dull pain in my head – no doubt just a preview of what was to come. I knew that the torturous headaches and visions and panic attacks I’d endured last year were likely to revisit me. And last night’s dream was so clear in my mind – her whisper, soft and haunting, playing on a loop in the back of my brain. Careful. You’re standing on my grave.

When I stepped inside the diner, it suddenly became clear why Sergeant Lawlor had picked it. The place was deserted, apart from the people working behind the counter. The decor in Ming’s was pretty minimal – the walls hadn’t been painted in years and the plastic was peeling away from the tables. I’d never been in there during the day and it was odd seeing it so quiet. Sergeant Lawlor was sitting in a booth at the back and he nodded as I closed the door behind me. He was wearing a black suit and tie and looked very official.

‘Hi,’ I said as I sat down across from him, dropping my satchel to the floor.

‘Hello, Jacki,’ he said. ‘Thanks for meeting me.’

‘No problem.’ I wondered if he guessed that I’d thought twice about coming. I suppose it didn’t matter; I was