Of Pandas and Poltergeists
Arthur was a bloody nuisance. He really was. There was no other word for it. And it was all Merlin’s fault, really. He should have known something was up when he got the flat so cheap (when he asked, the landlord just muttered something about faulty plumbing, and quickly changed the subject to pets). He should have realised something was up, and not been so surprised when, towards the end of his first evening in the flat, Arthur appeared.
It was all very undramatic. Arthur appeared in the middle of his new living room with a little pop while he was organising his CD collection into alphabetical order. Merlin promptly shrieked, and dropped half the Fs on his foot. It hurt rather a lot.
“Shit, ” he said, rubbing his foot. “And… who the hell are you?”
“I’m Arthur,” said Arthur, who was a blonde, muscled footballer type who would have been drop-dead gorgeous were he not translucent. “I’m your roommate.”
“I don’t have a roommate!” said Merlin. “This is a one-bedroom flat! There are no roommates here!” It then occurred to him than the translucency was rather more important than the logistics of them sharing the flat. “And… are you a ghost?”
“Poltergeist,” said Arthur. “Actually. As of a few months ago.” He folded his arms, stood up very straight, and said smugly: “I am now a fully-qualified poltergeist.”
“Right,” said Merlin, then: “What the hell. Get out of my flat!”
“It’s my flat too!” said Arthur. “I lived here once. Hell, I died here.”
“Oh,” said Merlin. “Um… died of what?”
Arthur looked rather embarrassed, and muttered something about faulty plumbing. Then he changed the subject. “Anyway, I live here. Get used to it.”
“I’m not sharing a flat with a poltergeist!” Merlin shouted.
--
He was sharing a flat with a poltergeist. There was no way around it. Because after some more arguing, it emerged that Arthur could only haunt the place where he’d died. Merlin would have to get used to it, or move.
(He’d got the poltergeist qualification through a correspondence course. Merlin did not ask how such a thing would work.)
But by the next morning, Arthur had moved all of his CDs into a completely random arrangement, and poured all the cornflakes he bought down the toilet.
“That was the only food in the house!” said Merlin. “I haven’t been shopping yet! What am I supposed to eat? ”
Arthur, who was currently perching on the cooker, shrugged. “Dunno. I don’t eat any more.”
Merlin threw a slipper at him, then stormed out of the flat.
--
When he came home from his new job a week later and found that Arthur had emptied every bottle and tube in the bathroom into the sink, with the plug in, and mixed it all together with his toothbrush, he called the landlord.
“This flat is haunted, ” he said.
“No, it isn’t,” said the landlord, and put down the phone.
Merlin tried calling again, but the landlord kept insisting he’d got the wrong number, and hanging up.
--
Merlin began to rethink his judgement of Arthur the next morning, though, when the poltergeist brought him a toothbrush as a peace offering.
“Where’d you get this?” he said. It was still in his packaging.
“Chemist,” said Arthur.
“Did you pay?” said Merlin.
“Poltergeists don’t pay, ” said Arthur. He flopped down on the sofa.
“Oh, that’s just - and I thought you couldn’t leave the flat?”
“Chemist is just across the road,” said Arthur. “I can make it that far, if I push myself. And I’m going to ease up a bit now. I always go heavy for the first week or so. It drives away anyone who doesn’t really care about this place.”
Merlin looked around the flat. It didn’t look like anything special to him. “Why should people care about it?”
“When you die somewhere you tend to get attached to it,” said Arthur. “No matter how much it sucks.” He sighed (which was strange seeing as how he didn’t breath). “Why couldn’t I have died in a stately home? I deserve a stately home.”
--
But Arthur continued to use his toothpaste to draw all over the mirror and the toilet seat, and continued to use Merlin’s newspaper to make snowflakes and strings of little paper men, and then the snowflakes and paper men to decorate Merlin’s bed, so Merlin continued to think of him as a nuisance for the next few months.
But then it got to be winter. It got to be bloody cold. So Merlin fetched out his hot water bottle.
Merlin liked his hot water bottle. His mum had bought it for him, along with the furry case shaped like a panda. He liked to cuddle it on cold nights, and relive his childhood.
So he filled it, then left it lying on his pillow while he went to brush his teeth, and change into his pyjamas.
When he came back, it was gone.
That bloody poltergeist.
“Arthur!” he shouted, storming out into the hall. “Arthur!” There was silence. He groaned (it was much too cold in the hall - the radiator didn’t work, and he was in pyjamas) and marched into the living room.
And there was his hot water bottle. And there was Arthur, wrapped around it.
He was lying on the rug, in the middle of the room, with his back to Merlin, curled around the hot water bottle, with a contented smile on his translucent face. Merlin rolled his eyes, and marched over.
He really wanted to kick him to get his attention. But he knew from exerperience that kicking didn’t affect Arthur very much. So instead he just said: “Arthur, what the hell are you doing?”
Arthur opened his eyes, and turned to face him. “Oh, do you want it back now?” he said.
“Yes,” said Merlin. Arthur hugged the hot water bottle even closer, and shook his head. “Oh, for crying out loud, Arthur! I am not in the mood for this! It’s freezing out! I’m cold! ”
“You think you’re cold,” said Arthur, a bitter tone which Merlin hadn’t heard before creeping into his voice. “At least you’ve got body heat.” He ran translucent fingers through the black and white fur. “S’nice. Looks like a panda.”
There was silence for a moment as what he'd said sank in. “You’re cold,” said Merlin. Arthur nodded. “Is that all this is? You’re not just trying to be annoying?” Arthur shook his head.
“I’m always cold,” he said. “Please can I keep it?”
Merlin hesitated. On the one hand, Arthur sounded sincere, and the idea of taking that hot water bottle off him and leaving him to shiver on the rug was kind of horrible, but on the other hand… it was cold.
“Well, maybe we can share it,” he said eventually.
So that was how Arthur ended up in his bed, curled up under the covers with one arm around the water bottle.
“I like the fur,” he said. “I never had one with fur, when I was alive. S’nice. Kind of like sharing a bed with a dog.”
“I wouldn’t know,” said Merlin.
“You’ve never had a pet?” said Arthur. Merlin shook his head. “Shame on you. Get one.”
“Landlord says it’s not allowed,” said Merlin. He yawned.
“Landlord won't notice. He never comes here in case I jump out and scare him,” said Arthur. “I do that too him a lot.”
“You’re a wanker,” said Merlin.
“It’s his own fault for not fixing the plumbing,” said Arthur. “Get a pet. He’d never notice. Get a cat, they’re quite low-maintenance.”
“Can you be quiet so I can sleep?” said Merlin.
“Oh,” said Arthur. “Right. Sorry.” He was silent for a moment. Then: “I don’t sleep any more. Sometimes I forget.”
“S’okay,” said Merlin sleepily.
--
The next day he went out and bought another hot water bottle, and a furry cover for it. It was just a normal teddy bear instead of a panda, but it was close enough.
“It’s a present for you,” he told Arthur. “For when you get cold.”
“Oh,” said Arthur, taking both bottle and bear out of Merlin’s hands. “Okay.”
He did not seem as happy as Merlin had expected. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” said Arthur. He grinned. “It’s… great. Thank you.”
He wandered away, clutching his hot water bottle, and after that he seemed to call a cease-fire. It lasted all of about two days, but still.
--
For couple of months after that, Merlin found he was finally managing to live with having a poltergeist. Arthur kept his poltergeisting down to stuff that was harmless, if annoying. He teased Merlin constantly, but Merlin teased him back, so that was okay.
But then Merlin started seeing someone.
‘Someone’ being Will, from work. Will was funny, and down-to-earth, and a man, which seemed like something Arthur was sure to tease him about. So he may have neglected to tell him that he was seeing anyone.
And the he got a bit… carried away. Because Will was kind of really attractive, so when, after the first few dates, he said ‘your place or mine?’, Merlin blurted out ‘mine, it’s closer’, without thinking about it.
So that was how come he ended up barging into the flat with Will’s tongue in his mouth, and Will’s hands undoing his belt, and Will’s body pressing him up against the wall of the living room.
There was a little pop. Merlin didn’t notice it. But unfortunately, Will did.
He pulled back. “Did you hear that?” he said.
“Hear what?” said Merlin, breathless.
“Hi,” said Arthur from behind Will. They both peered round to look at him. “Don’t mind me.” He grinned.
“Jesus Christ!” said Will, stumbling back from Merlin. “Merlin, what the hell? ”
“Oh. Er,” said Merlin. “This is Arthur. He’s my roommate.”
But Will didn’t seem to hear. He was still staring at Arthur, most likely taking in the whole translucency issue.
“You’re a ghost, ” he concluded, in panicked tones.
“Poltergeist, actually, ” said Arthur.
Will let out a strangled sound, then turned tail and fled.
“What the hell was that?” snapped Merlin. “What the hell was that? ”
Arthur was staring at the door of the flat, which Will had left open in his flight. “I don’t think he’s a keeper, Merlin. He scares too easy.”
“Arthur, what the hell? ” said Merlin. “Do poltergeists have no concept of privacy? ”
Arthur just turned around, and shrugged. Then he vanished into thin air.
--
And after that, he was intolerable again.
He filled up the bath while Merlin was at work, and dumped the entire contents of his wardrobe in it. He dug out an old pot of paint some former tenant had left at the back of a cupboard, and painted the kitchen window bright blue. He wrote rude words all over Merlin’s bedroom walls in permanent marker.
When Merlin came into the kitchen after a day at work to find him removing the plates from his cupboard one by one, and smashing them on the floor, he’d had enough.
“Arthur, what is wrong with you?” he said.
“I’m a poltergeist,” said Arthur, smashing another plate. “I’m supposed to cause chaos. Admittedly - ” Smash. “ - This is rather small scale chaos, but - ” Smash. “ - It’ll do.”
“What happened to going easy on me?” said Merlin, snatching the next plate out of his hands. But Arthur just shrugged, and took out a mug. Smash.
“Ghosts,” he said. “Are not well-known for sticking to their word. Also I’ve resolved to be the best damn poltergeist there is.” Smash.
“Well, go do it somewhere else!” said Merlin, rescuing his favourite mug (it had Snoopy on it).
“I can’t,” Arthur shouted. Smash went a glass. “You know that. I’m stuck with this stupid flat, and I’m stuck with you.”
And with that, he swept the last few dishes out of the cupboard, and fell to his knees amongst the broken glass and china. Merlin stepped forward gingerly.
“Is this… this isn’t about Will, is it?” he said.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Arthur. He lifted his translucent head to look at Merlin. “I’m a ghost. I should never have thought - ” He broke off, but Merlin got the message. He crouched down, eyes wide.
“Arthur - how long?” he said. “How long have you - ”
“Since the hot water bottle,” he said, turning his face away.. “You let me share your bed. No-one else… I mean, not since… all the other people who’ve lived here, it’s been all ‘stupid ghost, let’s just ignore it and hope it gets bored and goes away’. None of them talked to me, let alone let me into their bed or, or, bought me a hot water bottle.” He was starting to shake slightly. “A bloody hot water bottle. And all I could think was that it meant you didn’t want me back in your bed again.” He turned back to Merlin. “You don’t, do you?”
Merlin just stared. Then he reached out, and rested one hand on Arthur’s shoulder. It felt a little strange, like there was no substance to it. Like touching a cobweb, only not so sticky. “Oh, God,” he said. “Arthur - I didn’t realise - ”
“No reason why you should,” said Arthur. “I’m a ghost. I’m not meant to… y’know. And it’s stupid and pointless, because there’s no way you’d ever… I mean… I’m a ghost.”
“You’re a poltergeist,” said Merlin.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” said Arthur, with a little laugh. “I lied about the correspondence course, you know. There’s no such thing. Or not as far as I know. I mean, I’ve never even met another ghost. For all I know I’m the only one.”
Merlin moved his hand to Arthur’s cheek. “I’m sure you’re not,” he said. “I mean, there must be others.” Arthur just shrugged.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “I can’t visit them and they can’t visit me, so unless someone else dies in this crummy flat - ”
He broke off.
Because Merlin kissed him. Just once, fleetingly, more to see what it was like than anything else.
“Oh,” he said.
“Oh,” said Arthur.
“S’nice,” said Merlin.
“Yeah.”
--
Arthur spent the nice in Merlin’s bed again.
He slipped his strange, insubstantial, translucent arms around Merlin’s waist, and stayed with him all night, and talked. About his life, and his being a ghost. Merlin told him things he didn’t know, like where he’d got his panda hot water bottle.
S’nice.
--
When Merlin woke up the next morning, he was alone in the bed. At first he supposed that Arthur must have got bored, and left to go and do something else, but he walked all round the flat, and Arthur wasn’t there.
He tried calling his name, but there was no answer - no voice, no answering pop. Nothing.
The flat felt different, somehow.
It felt like something was gone.
Merlin sat down on the sofa, and sat there for a long time.
Then he got up, and called the landlord.
“I don’t think the flat is haunted any more,” he said.
“Oh,” said the landlord. “That’s good. But it never was in the first place, you know.”
Then he hung up.
--
He kept the other hot water bottle around, as long as he stayed in that flat, and he’d always fill it up and leave it lying on his pillow on cold nights.
Just in case.