‘The graveyard at midnight. Romantic place to meet.’
‘Nowhere better on Halloween.’
Laura, dressed in her costume as a dancer, gossamer fine skirt swirling around her legs, headed for the gravestone against which Carl was leaning. The church reared above them, shrouding them in its shadow.
‘You could have dressed up.’
‘You know me. I’m just your curmudgeonly husband who loves Halloween for the spiritual meaning rather than the frivolity - the night when the gossamer veil is at its thinnest and wraiths can slip through and walk with the living.’
Laura stood next to him, their fingers almost but not quite touching.
‘Do you believe that the wraiths are wandering through the village tonight?’
‘I do.’
What do you think they want?’
‘They’ll probably be looking for their loved ones, hoping that they’re partying and enjoying themselves.’
‘Don’t they want to be mourned?’
Carl turned to look at her.
‘If they know they were loved in life, they don’t need it in the afterlife as well.’
‘Laura, where are you? Come back inside, you’ll freeze to death!’
‘Go and rejoin your friends. Enjoy the party, my love.’
‘I miss you, Carl.’
‘I’ll be here next year. Same time, same place.’
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