‘I’m sorry,’ said Beverley, feeling as if someone had just placed her left hand in a bucket of water and her right in a toaster before pressing the ‘on’ switch on the wall socket. ‘Did you say Pylyp?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ The ghost sat back and feigned surprise. ‘Of course, you know him a little, don’t you? He worked with you on Strictly.’

A lengthy,

lengthy,

lengthy,

silence.

‘How on earth do you know Pylyp?’ asked Beverley, her words coming out in a voice that even she didn’t fully recognize. Somehow, it reminded her of Kermit the Frog.

‘Well, it’s the funniest thing,’ said the ghost. ‘I was in your house the other day when the phone rang. I answered it, and it was him. Well, we got talking because I recognized his accent and I told him about my own family history, and one thing led to another and he asked me to meet him for a drink. To talk about the old country, you know. He was in Odessa breaking up with an old girlfriend at the time, but he came back the next day and we met up. And that was it. Love at first sight. For both of us.’

An

even

lengthier

silence.

‘You’re in a relationship with Pylyp?’ asked Beverley eventually.

‘Yes.’

‘And you’re in love with him?’

‘Well, I mean it’s only been twenty-four hours, but I feel it might be the real thing. We’re like a couple of Lego pieces that just click. Perhaps it has something to do with our shared heritage.’

‘And your big speech about a woman not needing a man but finding fulfilment through her work and so on?’

The ghost laughed. ‘Well, yes, I believe that in general. And it’s important to write about such characters. But, come on. You’ve seen him. He’s gorgeous. He’s opened me up in ways I never thought possible. His skills as a lover are—’

Beverley stood up and slammed her hands on the table, making the cups rattle. She gathered up her pages and threw them in the ghost’s face. The ghost sat there, looking utterly bewildered.

‘I have only one thing to say to you,’ she hissed. ‘And it isn’t even for you. It’s for Pylyp. You can tell him from me that he will never see Ustym Karmaliuk again.’

And with that, she collected up her belongings, charged through the doors, out on to Dean Street, and hailed the first black cab that passed by, leaving the ghost with the bill.

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING IN UNIFORM

Nelson and Shane were still in the first flush of excitement about their new romance when Shane remarked on how flexible the Metropolitan Police were with their working hours.

‘How do you mean?’ asked Nelson.

‘Well, the fact that we get to spend so much time together,’ replied Shane, who was alphabetizing Nelson’s bookcases at the time. It was his first visit to the Cleverley household and Nelson had snuck him upstairs without running into any members of his family. ‘We’re lucky in that, aren’t we?’