Sam had three messages from Lucy over the next week, all saying that Kev was doing fine in hospital and wanted to see him. He ignored them all, not particularly interested in listening to a squirming Kev telling him he didn’t mind him being a poof now that he’d helped save his life. Or, equally likely, threatening him with a kicking if Sam ever got his lips within three feet of Kev’s again.
He’d racked his brains trying to work out what had really happened that night, but kept coming up blank. If James had been a ghost, how the hell had Sam been able to touch him? He’d felt so real. So alive. But a real live person couldn’t have just vanished into thin air like James had. And he’d have been visible to everyone, not just Sam and a few others.
Alive or not, Sam felt an aching sense of loss
