“I have to go.” The American guy suddenly consults his watch. “My apologies for hijacking the meeting. Simon, please continue.”

“I have just one question.” The sandy-haired man hurriedly raises his hand. “When you’re talking about innovating procedure, do you mean-”

“Quick!” Sadie’s voice suddenly resounds in my ear, making me jump. “Ask him on a date! He’s leaving! You promised! Do it! Do-it-do-it-do-it-”

OK!!!!!! I scrawl, flinching. JUST GIVE ME A SECOND.

Sadie stalks to the other side of the room and watches me expectantly. After a while she starts making impatient Come on! gestures with her hands. Mr. American Frown has finished answering the sandy-haired guy and is pushing some papers into his briefcase.

I can’t do this. It’s ludicrous.

“Go on! Go on!” Sadie’s voice blasts my eardrum again. “Ask!”

Blood is pulsating around my head. My legs are trembling under the table. Somehow I force myself to raise a hand.

“Excuse me?” I say in an embarrassed squeak.

Mr. American Frown turns and surveys me, looking puzzled. “I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve been introduced. You’ll have to excuse me, I’m in a hurry-”

“I have a question.”

Everyone around the table has swiveled to look at me. I can see a man whispering “Who’s that?” to his neighbor.

“OK.” He sighs. “One more quick question. What is it?”

“I… um… It’s just… I wanted to ask…” My voice is jumpy and I clear my throat. “Would you like to go out with me?”

There’s a stunned silence, apart from someone spluttering on their coffee. My face is boiling hot, but I hold steady. I can see a few astounded looks passing between the people at the table.

“Excuse me?” says the American man, looking bewildered.

“Like… on a date?” I risk a little smile.

Suddenly I’m aware of Sadie beside him. “Say yes!” she shrieks into his ear, so loudly that I want to flinch on his behalf. “Say yes! Say yes!”

To my astonishment, I can see the American man reacting. He’s cocking his head as though he can hear some distant radio signal. Can he hear her?

“Young lady,” says a gray-haired man curtly. “This really isn’t the time or place-”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” I say humbly. “I won’t take up much time. I just need an answer, one way or the other.” I turn to the American man again. “Would you like to go out with me?”

“Say yes! Say yes!” Sadie’s yelling increases to an unbearable level.

This is unreal. The American man can definitely hear something. He shakes his head and takes a couple of steps away, but Sadie follows him, still yelling. His eyes are glazed and he looks like he’s in a trance.

No one else in the room is moving or speaking. They all seem pinioned by shock; one woman has her hand clapped across her face as though she’s watching a train wreck.

“Say yes!” Sadie’s starting to sound hoarse as she screams. “Right now! Say it! SAY YES!”

It’s almost comical, the sight of her yelling so hard and only getting the faintest reaction. But as I watch, I only feel pity. She looks so powerless, as though she’s shouting behind a sheet of glass and the only one who can hear her properly is me. Sadie’s world must be so frustrating, I find myself thinking. She can’t touch anything, she can’t communicate with anyone, it’s obvious she’s never going to get through to this guy-

“Yes.” The American man nods desperately.

My pity dies away.

Yes?

There’s a gasp all around the table and a hastily stifled giggle. Everyone immediately turns to gape at me, but I’m temporarily too dumbfounded to reply.

He said yes.

Does this mean… I actually have to go on a date with him?

“Great!” I try to gather my wits. “So… let’s be in touch, shall we? My name’s Lara Lington, by the way, here’s my card…” I scrabble in my bag.

“I’m Ed.” The man still looks dazed. “Ed Harrison.” He reaches into his inside pocket and produces his own business card.

“So… um… bye, then, Ed!” I pick up my bag and hurriedly beat a retreat, to the sound of a growing hubbub. I can hear someone saying, “Who the bloody hell was that?” and a woman saying in an urgent undertone, “You see? You just have to have the guts. You have to be direct with men. Stop the games. Lay it out there. If I’d known at her age what that girl knows…”

What I know?

I don’t know anything except I need to get out of here.

I’m still in a state of shock as Sadie catches up with me, halfway across the ground floor reception lobby. My mind keeps rerunning the scene in total disbelief. Sadie communicated with a man. He actually heard her. I’m not sure how much he heard-but obviously enough.

“Isn’t he a peach?” she says dreamily. “I knew he’d say yes.”

“What went on in there?” I mutter incredulously. “What’s with the shouting? I thought you couldn’t talk to anyone except me!”

“Talking’s no good,” she agrees. “But I’ve noticed that when I really let off a socking great scream right in someone’s ear, most people seem to hear something faint. It’s terribly hard work, though.”

“Have you done this before? Have you spoken to anyone else?”

I know it’s ridiculous, but I feel the tiniest bit jealous that she can get through to other people. Sadie is my ghost.

“Oh, I had a few words with the queen,” she says airily. “Just for fun.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe.” She shoots me a wicked little smile. “It’s hell on the old vocal cords, though. I always have to give up after a while.” She coughs and rubs her throat.

“I thought I was the only person you were haunting,” I can’t help saying childishly. “I thought I was special.”

“You’re the only person I can be with instantly,” says Sadie after pondering a moment. “I just have to think of you, and I’m with you.”

“Oh.” Secretly, I feel quite pleased to hear this.

“So, where do you think he’ll take us?” Sadie looks up, her eyes sparkling. “The Savoy? I adore the Savoy.”

My attention is wrenched back to the present situation. She seriously envisages all three of us going on a date together? A weird, freaky, threesome-with-a-ghost date?

OK, Lara. Stay sane. That guy won’t really claim a date. He’ll tear up my card and blame the incident on his hangover/drug habit/stress levels and I’ll never see him again. Feeling more confident, I stride toward the exit. That’s enough craziness for one day. I have things to do.

As soon as I get back to the office, I put a call through to Jean, lean back in my swivel chair, and prepare to relish the moment.

“Jean Savill.”

“Oh, hi, Jean,” I say pleasantly. “It’s Lara Lington here. I’m just calling about your no-dog policy again, which I totally understand and applaud. I can absolutely see why you’d wish to keep your workplace an animal-free zone. But I was just wondering why this rule doesn’t extend to Jane Frenshew in room 1416?”

Ha!

I’ve never heard Jean so squirmy. At first she denies it altogether. Then she tries to say it’s due to special circumstances and doesn’t set any precedent. But it only takes one mention of lawyers and European rights for her to cave in. Shireen can bring Flash to work! It’s going to be put in her contract tomorrow, and they’re throwing in a dog basket! I put down the phone and dial Shireen’s number. She’s going to be so happy! Finally, this job is fun.

And it’s even more fun when Shireen gasps incredulously over the phone.

“I couldn’t imagine anyone at Sturgis Curtis taking the same trouble,” she keeps saying. “This is the difference when you work with a smaller outfit.”

“Boutique,” I correct her. “We have the personal touch. Tell all your friends!”

“I will! I’m so impressed! How did you find out about the other dog, by the way?”