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It was a beautiful December day to go fishing from the pier. Of course, thought Kelby, it would be prettier with snow but as it hardly ever snowed in Devon, especially by the coast, it just wasn't that likely. Anyway, as he thought some more about it, he probably couldn't have gone fishing at all if it was snowing, so perhaps it was just as well... It was bloody freezing though. He was bundled up so heavily against the wind, he felt like a Michelin Man! But he did also have a lovely thermos full of hot chocolate so he shouldn't really complain. Although did it still count as complaining when it was only in his head?
Kelby loved fishing. He loved fishing only slightly less than he liked karaoke and he liked karaoke a great deal. He did probably like his job as a police constable even more than either of these things, but that was because he was lucky. So many people didn't do something they actually enjoyed for work, and although there were some occasional downsides, what job didn't have downsides? He also had an electric pencil sharpener! So he was lucky, he knew that. But you couldn't work every day - in fact, you shouldn't! That wouldn't be healthy. So here he was, on the day before Christmas Eve, fishing. Maybe other people might think that would be a weird thing to do, because he was out here on the stone pier pretty much alone, but he enjoyed it. The wind in his face, making him feel alive, the smell of the sea...
Then he heard a shout which sounded like Margo. What did Margo want when it was nearly Christmas Eve? When he wasn't even meant to be in work - he wasn't meant to be in work, was he? Slightly panicked by the thought, Kelby sprang to his feet to see Margo waving, but unfortunately he'd moved a bit too quickly, his feet got tangled with his creel and over he went, arms waving frantically in the air. He hit the stone with a thump, bumped his head, and the world went black...
***
Kelby woke up with a bit of a headache and a very familiar ceiling above him. This was Shipton Abbott Cottage Hospital, he'd visited it many times, most recently when he had to look after and gently interrogate the Chief Super's mum after the assault from those internet thieves. Kelby blinked up at it, wondering why he was here.
"Well, up you get. No more lolly-gagging about, we've places to be, people to see. My time is valuable, particularly this time of year. Chop chop!"
Kelby looked to one side to see an impatient looking man with a strong face and slightly receding hairline, in a sharp wool suit. He raised an eyebrow and repeated, "Well?"
"Umm. Who are you? Are you the doctor?" Kelby definitely didn't think he was the doctor...
The man looked insulted. "I am Detective Inspector Richard Poole and I am..." He grimaced faintly. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Paradise Past. Honestly, it's ridiculous, but what can we do?"
Kelby decided he had definitely hit his head. "Umm. And have I done something wrong this year to be visited by a ghost? I didn't think I'd been that greedy or selfish..." Kelby thought about his electric pencil sharpener again and hung his head. He definitely hadn't wanted to save on the electricity like Margo had wanted him to...
DI Poole looked faintly panicked at Kelby's long face. "No, no, nothing like that. You're no Scrooge, don't worry. It's just traditional - someone has to be visited and this year it's your turn. Lucky you!"
DI Poole didn't do a very good job of reassurance, Kelby thought. He seemed a bit too prickly to be comforting. But that was ok.
"Come on then," said DI Poole, "Up you get..."
And Kelby had seen this movie before, although there was less singing and muppets than he was vaguely expecting, so he didn't worry about the fact he was in his pajamas. He grabbed his dressing gown though, in case it was cold where they were going and looked expectant. DI Poole took his hand, slightly reluctantly, Kelby thought, and they were off, the walls of the hospital somehow fading into snowflakes until they cleared away to show...
"Is that Esther?" Kelby asked. He supposed he should probably call her DI Williams, but the thing of it was, she didn't look remotely like DI Williams, she looked far too young, like she hadn't even left school. She looked like she was just Esther in that moment, and in fact, Kelby realised, that what she actually reminded him of was her daughter, Zoe. Except with thinner eyebrows. Was that rude, Kelby thought? It probably was, but he didn't mean to be...
Esther was waiting outside a chippy, eating nice big fat chips covered in loads of salt and vinegar from a paper cone. Kelby approved. She was wearing a leather bomber jacket and Kelby found he disapproved because it didn't look remotely warm enough for the winter weather. Then as she turned to look down the street Kelby realised that the reason why she didn't do the jacket up was because there was a slight... curve there. "Is she...?"
DI Poole cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "I couldn't possibly comment."
Then Esther was joined by a cool looking young man, just parking his motorbike. He swung her round in a circle and then they walked off together towards the local Christmas fair, his arm around her waist. Oh, thought Kelby sadly, that's where Zoe gets her eyebrows from...
They both stood in silence, watching them go.
"Let's have a look at something more cheerful," said DI Poole, shaking his head, and whisked him away into an improbably gentle blizzard.
"So this must be Margo?" said Kelby, with, it must be said, a certain amount of relief. She was so much younger (and thinner, although Kelby was worried she'd hear him even thinking it) her hair red and vibrant, wrapped up in some kind of bright wool creation drinking - Kelby thought it was hot chocolate - beside a bonfire. She was at some kind of Christmas festival, he thought, he could hear music. She was cuddling with a good looking bloke in denim dungarees and a wooly hat who Kelby thought he ought to recognise... Oh yes, this must be her ex-husband, he thought, Jamie wasn't it? They looked happy.
DI Poole looked at them disapprovingly. "Just because I'm a ghost," he groused, "There is no need to commit crimes in front of me."
Kelby looked again and sniffed the air. Oh yes... That distinctive herbal smell... That hand-rolled cigarette was not just a hand-rolled cigarette...
"Merry Christmas," tried Kelby, in a conciliatory tone, "Every one?"
***
"Hello," said an unfamiliar man, standing next to his bed.
"Hello," said Kelby, "The Ghost of Christmas Paradise Present, I presume?"
"Say that fast three times," said the man, smiling awkwardly, "Or actually, you don't have to, I wouldn't actually try that, if I were you." He winced.
The man was thin and nervous, his hair dark and his face round. As Kelby looked at him, he got out an asthma inhaler and took a puff. Kelby wondered, did ghosts really need inhalers?
"Detective Inspector Neville Parker, nice to meet you, call me Neville."
Kelby opened his mouth to comment and Neville held up his hand. "I'm not actually dead, no. 'Ghost' is really just a...courtesy title, in these circumstances. I'm currently asleep on a boat in the Caribbean if you must know."
"Nice," said Kelby.
"Well," said Neville, looking wistful, "I kind of miss the rain really and the grey skies and..."
He trailed off as Kelby stared at him in utter incredulity. He cleared his throat. "Shall we proceed?"
This time the walls dissolved into swirling sand, rather than snowflakes - Kelby was a bit surprised.
"Well," said DI Parker defensively, "There's a lot of sand in the Caribbean, it gets everywhere you know! And I suppose there's a lot of sand in Devon too?"
Kelby did agree that indeed that was the case but privately he didn't think it was very Christmas-y. But then DI Parker didn't look like he could stand up to anything, never mind overbearing sand.
This time he and DI Parker were standing outside a cottage looking in. Kelby knew whose it was, although he'd never been inside, because until recently it had belonged solely to Anne Lloyd, DI Goodman's partner's mum. Kelby looked round and there was the houseboat against the quay, which he had been inside, because Humphrey, and he did suppose he was allowed to call him Humphrey when they were off duty, had the whole station over for beers, more than once. He was a great boss, really brilliant, Kelby thought. A little scatter-brained at times, or so DS Williams not so subtly hinted at times, but so sharp where it counted. Kelby always felt torn when DS Williams was sarcastic about Humphrey - it came from a place of love, Margo would say, but it still made Kelby feel all uncomfortably squirmy inside. He was glad she'd mellowed towards him these days.
When Kelby looked through the window of the cottage (and it still wasn't snowing, despite the fact that it would be thematically appropriate because it still hardly ever snowed in Devon) all he could do was smile.
There was a tree all covered in decorations and lights, and some holly on the mantelpiece, and Humphrey covered in flour. Kelby tried not to laugh - what if he heard him? - but he did look really funny. By contrast, the small boy they were fostering - Ryan, wasn't it? - was almost completely clean. But then, from all Kelby knew of him, he'd probably eaten all the uncooked dough before it could stain anything... They were making sugar cookies on the dining table, Kelby thought, and he'd rarely seen a happier looking pair. Martha was looking over at them from the kitchen with a fond expression as she was happily in the midst of the whirl that was producing Christmas dinner. Anne was seated in an armchair with a more complicated expression, and a glass of sherry, probably concerned about the mess, if Kelby was any judge. She reminded him of his own Nana George. He opened his mouth...
"Don't worry," said DI Parker, "You'll see your own family soon."
Kelby shut his mouth, feeling happier. These ghosts were really very kind.
***
"I don't understand," said the next ghost. She was a beautiful woman with very intense eyes. She was currently staring at Kelby, and he felt a bit weird about it as she continued to stare. "I thought DI Wilson was going to be doing this. Isn't he better with people?"
She sounded Australian. Kelby smiled uneasily and shrugged, uncertain who DI Wilson was. "I think you must be the Ghost of Christmas Paradise Future?" he asked, not at all sure.
She frowned and then shook her head, as though brushing away a fly. "I suppose I must be. It's really very inconvenient." She stared at him again. "I don't particularly believe in celebrating Christmas."
"Oh," said Kelby awkwardly, "Well, we don't have to do this then, if you don't want to..."
She huffed and wrinkled her lip. "I've had to do all sorts of things I don't want to do recently. Come along then." She started walking off through the suddenly swirling rain. "Call me Mackenzie."
Kelby hurried to follow her, hoping his dressing gown didn't get too wet. "Are you another Detective Inspector?"
Her gait hitched for a moment. "It's complicated," she threw over her shoulder.
"No snow this time either?" asked Kelby.
She kept walking. "It never snows at Christmas in the UK," said Mackenzie in a matter of fact kind of way.
Kelby nodded and kept following her. He was getting used to these kinds of answers.
This time he and Mackenzie were standing outside a church, which did surprise him. Then Kelby thought back to the movie he'd watched and shivered. He didn't want to see his own name on a gravestone. That would just be creepy...
"No, no, it's alright," Mackenzie said, "We wouldn't spring that on you, not if you're not a Scrooge."
She walked off abruptly again. He had a feeling she did that a lot. But as they walked round to the front of the church Kelby realised that it wasn't a sad empty church at all, it was actually filled with people and lots of flowers and greenery. There was a distinct rustle of people expecting the beginning of something, there was a vicar and he could see the backs of two men in suits standing at the front right by the first pew. Then he realised with a little gasp, his chest heavy and his throat closing up with some unnamable emotion (he wouldn't let himself name it) that there were two people at the back of the church too, just a few yards away from him and Mackenzie, standing in the shadows, an elderly gentleman in a cravat fussing and patting the hand of a beautiful woman in a white silk dress. She had her back to him, but Kelby would know the back of that graceful swan-like neck anywhere...
"Charlie's getting married..." he murmured, and heard another huff from Mackenzie.
"Wasting her life, in my opinion," said Mackenzie, "Come on, we should go."
"But I just want to see who she's marrying..." said Kelby, yearning, desperately straining for one more glimpse of the groom at the front of the church. Just one more second...
Mackenzie tugged his elbow sharply and Kelby found himself off balance and starting to fall. Oh no, he thought, not again...
***
"Well, aren't you a sleepy head," said Margo.
Kelby blinked up at her and realised he was lying in bed, in his slightly damp dressing gown. Margo was smiling at him and her eyes were twinkling.
"Good dreams, I hope," she said, "I could barely get you to stir."
"Not bad," said Kelby, in a slight daze. "There should have been more snow."
Margo looked briefly confused for a moment before grabbing his elbow and hauling him upright. "Never mind that, we have to get you home for Christmas..."
"Oh, I haven't missed it then?" asked Kelby, "That's good."
"And look who's come to fetch you," said Margo as she handed him a bag full of clean clothes.
Kelby looked round and he couldn't help but smile. Nana George! That meant he was going to be driven home in her ancient mini that she'd done up to look like one out of that film, the Italian Job. Nana George was hurrying forward in a bright purple wool coat and red pom-pom hat, which meant something too, Kelby thought, but couldn't remember what right now, and then he was being hugged within an inch of his life. She smelt of lavender, tea and cookies, just like always, and Kelby felt so comforted, it was the smell of his childhood, of home, it made him so happy - he was so glad he hadn't missed Christmas after all!