Hamlet’s Ghost Read online

  About Hamlet’s Ghost: Shakespeare Sisters

  Rhiannon Dee, a gorgeous witch, moves to a country town to reopen a theater and finds herself torn between the man who owns it, and his father who haunts it.

  Kip Daniels has been haunting the Hamlet Majestic for thirty dull years, ever since the stage roof collapsed on him during what was meant to be his piece de resistance: his performance of Hamlet. All he really wants is to get to the end of the play, but that won’t happen while the theater stands abandoned and boarded up. He’s resigned himself to an endless limbo … until Rhiannon Dee moves to town to bring the theater back to life.

  Rhi has fled a failed life in New York. She can’t find work as an actress. She’s overshadowed by her mother who has a hit TV show about witchcraft. Rhi is sick of being seen as a witch and intends to turn her back on the craft. But she quickly discovers she can’t escape her gifts, especially when she needs to use them to help one very sexy but sad ghost cross over. Surrounded by new friends and supportive townsfolk, Rhi breathes new life into the Hamlet Majestic, and helps Kip accept his death.

  Hamlet’s Ghost is a story about those moments in life that define us, and how to truly move forward we must find peace with the past.

  Contents

  About Hamlet’s Ghost: Shakespeare Sisters

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-one

  Chapter Forty-two

  Chapter Forty-three

  Chapter Forty-four

  Chapter Forty-five

  Chapter Forty-six

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Acknowledgments

  About Jane Tara

  Also by Jane Tara

  Copyright

  For Zika Nester, my teacher and friend.

  And in memory of the Independent Theatre… as it was back then.

  Prologue

  “To be or not to be. To be be be or not to be be be.”

  Kip Daniels took a deep breath. Everything was going to plan. The sacrifices, the shattered dreams—all worth it now. Persistence was about to pay off. His moment had arrived. He just needed to calm down.

  “That is the question. The big, big, big question.” His voice bounced off the dressing room walls.

  Kip stretched and tried to calm his nerves. He was petrified—understandably. He was, after all, performing Hamlet in his very own theater. Opening night at the Hamlet Majestic with a performance of the Bard’s greatest play. It was fate. He could feel it…along with the nerves.

  There was a knock on the door and Martina the stage manager stuck her head into the room. “What are you doing?”

  Kip hated stupid questions. “Hunting elephants. What do you think?”

  “You’re back on.” She took in the number of talismans scattered around—a string of garlic, an upside-down broom—and rested on the pile of books about witches on Kip’s makeup table. “You’d swear we were doing the Scottish play, Kip.”

  Kip glanced at the books, then at Martina. His dark eyes flashed. “I don’t believe in any of that stuff.”

  “Sure you don’t.” She held the door open for him.

  Kip followed her backstage and stood in the wings. He fingered the velvet drapes for luck. Yes, there were whispers about him being a control freak, but in this business, you didn’t get anywhere while others held the reins. Control was key. And since he’d discovered he had quite a gift for directing as well as acting, he was finally in control.

  He allowed himself a quick fantasy about settling old scores. The thought flamed the fire in his belly. This would show all those bastards in New York! Everyone who had uttered those soul-crushing words—“Thanks…we’ll be in touch”—would wish they had. They’d sit up and take notice when they heard that Kip Daniels had opened his own theater and given the greatest interpretation of Hamlet since Olivier. And he’d done it in a town called Hamlet. That in itself was a stroke of theatrical genius.

  Hamlet, Massachusetts, would be on the map. This speck of a town would soon be recognized as the home of the greatest regional theater in America. The Hamlet Majestic would become the starting point for Broadway shows, a springboard for future theater stars. And as the owner/artistic director, he would have the power that had been stripped from him, piece by painful piece, in that soulless jungle. He would, finally, be the man he knew he was capable of becoming.

  Kip felt a small hand slip into his. He looked down into the excited face of his son, Tad, the driving force behind his desire to succeed. Tad was a five-year-old version of himself. With his dark hair and eyes and never-ending energy, Tad could be—and most probably would be—him in twenty-five years. Didn’t we all become our parents, no matter how hard we fought against it?

  Kip loved being a dad, although it had come as a huge shock initially. He’d hoped a two-week gig on a daytime soap would lead to bigger and better things. It had, but not work wise. Instead, a one-night stand with the show’s star had led to fatherhood.

  Kip did the right thing and proposed to Collette. She did the right thing and told him to fuck off. They ended up being great friends. They were very much alike, although Collette thought Kip’s passion for theater was a bit pretentious. She didn’t care for Strasberg or Meisner. The method to her was what her dermatologist did once a month to keep her looking young. She wasn’t an actress; she was a soap star. And nothing would get in the way of that. So while she loved Tad, she simply didn’t have time for him. She paid Kip to look after him.

  A couple of years of night-time feeds and nappy changes and single parenting, mixed with daytime rejections from casting agents and directors finally took their toll and Kip began to wonder if it was all worth it.

  That’s when his sister told him about an old theater for sale near where she lived. It was like a light going off for Kip. He’d still perform, he’d just take control of what he performed. And give Tad an upbringing near family, away from the insanity of New York. He was determined that Tad would have an incredible father to model himself on. So Kip bought the theater—with Collette’s money, admittedly—and took his son to live in Hamlet.

  He renovated the theater himself. He taught acting classes and met some other locals who had theater backgrounds. Bit by bit, the community came out to support him. Being a single parent wasn’t always easy, but it had cemented his relationship with his son. It was the two of them against the world. Nothing could damage it now.

  “You’re gonna be great, Dad.”

 
“Are you going to go and sit with your mom?”

  “I wanna watch from here. Can I, Dad?”

  “Sure you can.”

  Kip realized the Queen had just exited. He kissed Tad on the head and ruffled his hair. “It’s my time.” He moved into the wings and jiggled his legs a bit. He needed to go to the toilet again. Nerves! He waited until the King and Polonius left the stage and then turned and winked at Tad. “I’ll be seeing you, buddy.”

  The stage lights beat down on him, making him perspire. He sensed the audience although the house was deathly silent. A good sign, he thought. He glanced downstage and could see the bobby socks and sneakers of his niece in the front row.

  He began. “To be or not to be…”

  Everything faded out of focus and he found that core inside himself that belonged to Hamlet. The Prince took over his body.

  “That is the question. Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer; The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune; Or to take arms against a sea of troubles; And by opposing end them?” He was so in the moment he forgot where he was, who he was.

  Kip felt the zone close around him and swallow him whole until he was aware of nothing but the emotions of a man who until this moment had been fictional. Kip breathed life into him and became him. He knew nothing but Hamlet. “But that the dread of something after death…” He didn’t notice the heat, or the bored swinging of his niece’s legs. He certainly didn’t notice that loud crack that roared through the theater, or the moan as the roof gave way.

  “Be thou all my sins remembered…”

  “Oh my god, no!”

  Kip finished his monologue to mayhem, rather than the awed silence he had hoped for. The audience was screaming. People rushed around yelling and crying. Kip looked at Tad, frozen to the spot, his face pale, his eyes full of horror. What had he missed?

  Kip turned and the room began to swing. He felt strange. He followed Tad’s gaze to the center of the stage, the spot where he thought he was standing, and instead saw a pile of rubble where the roof had fallen. Under it lay his own crushed, lifeless body. His empty eyes stared straight back at him, mocking him.

  As he watched from a strange, altered distance, Kip realized he was floating above everything. He saw Collette rush to their son and cover his eyes. He watched his sister scoop his niece up. He could see his own body, broken and alone. All the actors stood around staring, bar one, who screamed for a doctor. When no one responded, Chandler ran from the theater himself to call one.

  And then his girlfriend, the woman he’d been in love with for a while but only just realized, went to him and took his pulse. She whispered his name.

  “I hear you,” he whispered back.

  She looked up to the skies, toward him…straight at him, as though she could see him. Her face crumpled and she let out a wail of pure grief.

  She really loves me, thought Kip. Don’t cry darling, I’m here. I love you too.

  Suddenly he sensed the light. It was warm and welcoming, beckoning him to go home. But then he remembered her. He knew without a doubt why this had happened. It was because of her. He was helpless. He didn’t even try to go towards the light. He knew he was stuck. Darkness rose and the light vanished.

  And then a tsunami of sorrow washed over him and he turned and drifted back to his dressing room.

  Chapter 1

  Rhiannon Dee felt like she was having an out-of-body experience. It was almost too much to comprehend. She shook her head, but they were still there, naked, unaware she was watching. Her best friend, Victoria De Whittaker, had her legs splayed across the coffee table, while Chandra, Rhi’s boyfriend of two years, crouched between them like a very eager dog.

  “Oh, Chandra, what are you doing to me?” screeched Victoria.

  Rhi had seen enough. “Sounds like someone needs to go back to Sex Ed 101.”

  Hearing Rhi’s voice, Chandra froze, looking like he was about to have a coronary. Then he tried to explain himself. It was pitifully typical of him.

  “It’s—it’s—it’s not what it looks like, Rhi.”

  Rhi almost enjoyed his discomfort. “I’m sure there’s a very good explanation and I’m so looking forward to hearing it.”

  There was silence, apart from the sound of Victoria sliding back into her underwear. Too late for modesty now, Rhi thought. She’d seen Victoria in a new light, namely the lovely lamp she’d recently bought from House and Home. She’d never be able to turn it on again. She must remember to return it.

  “I was helping Vic with a new yoga position.” Chandra looked pleased with himself.

  “That position isn’t new,” Rhi said.

  Victoria stood and shimmied back into her skirt. “I’d better go.”

  “Yes, thanks so much for coming,” Rhi snapped.

  “We’ll talk about this when you calm down.”

  “Great. Let’s book in a lunch for twenty-fifty.”

  Victoria actually looked upset. “I understand that you feel the need to hurt me right now, Rhi.”

  “As far as I can see, Victoria, you got the pleasure while I’ve been handed the pain.”

  Victoria gave Rhi a conspiratorial grin. “Not that much pleasure. I think I anticlimaxed.”

  Rhi resisted the urge to claw her eyes out.

  “Pleasure and pain are both intertwined, Rhi,” offered Chandra, his yoga-perfected body glistening with sweat. He placed his long slim fingers together in his I’m a guru way and spoke in the same tone that he used with his yoga devotees. “This is the perfect example of the yin and yang in a relationship.”

  The sight of his yang made Rhi want to yin. But at least they’d had safe sex. “Put some clothes on, Chandra.”

  “It’s symbolic, Rhi. I’m standing here exposed. I love you.”

  “Flowers would’ve been a more appropriate way of letting me know.”

  Chandra put on his pleading face. “We’ve been disconnected for months, Rhi. You’re so obsessed with your career. Every audition, every failed casting…you never have time for me.”

  “Thank god Vic was here to comfort you.” She turned to Victoria, her heartbreak finally evident. “Why? Why, Vic?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “That makes it worse. You were my oldest friend.”

  “What do you mean were?” slurred Victoria. Rhi realized she’d been drinking, which wasn’t unusual nowadays, but 11am was early even for Victoria.

  “You told me you didn’t love him any more,” Vic said.

  “That doesn’t give you the right to do this.”

  “What do you mean you don’t love me?” Chandra had the nerve to look devastated.

  “It’s true,” Rhi admitted. “I don’t love you any more.”

  “And it’s not like I like him. So this shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “I don’t even recognize you right now, Vic.”

  “He’s been hitting on me for months.” Victoria was grasping at straws now. “You can’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”

  Rhi glared at her now ex-best friend. “The only thing I’ve seen coming is something that will haunt me forever.”

  Victoria began to cry. “You of all people should have predicted this and kept us away from each other.”

  “So this is my fault?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry.”

  “We’re at a fork in the road,” Chandra offered. “We need to choose which road to take.”

  Rhi took a calm breath, which appeared to comfort the other two. “You’re right, Chandra, this is a fork in the road. So here’s what’s going to happen. You two go left, I’ll go right, and I’ll never be forked by you again.”

  Rhi walked out the door without a backward glance.

  Chapter 2

  “My life is crap!”

  “No, your day has been crap. Your life is quite enviable.”

  Rhi stared at her brother like he’d grown an extra head. “Who would envy my life?”

  �
��Oh I don’t know.” Finn ruffled her hair. “Syrian and Sudanese refugees?”

  “Okay, apart from them?” Rhi said as he sat on the lounge beside her. “Listen, I’m allowed to feel sorry for myself today.”

  “Yes, you are, but let’s keep it in perspective.”

  “Perspective? I saw my best friend with her foof in my boyfriend’s face today.”

  “Who says ‘foof’?” Finn grabbed Rhi’s wine glass off her. “You need to stop drinking immediately.”

  Rhi took the wine glass back. “Vajayjay…is that better?”

  “A much better visual.” Finn pulled a face.

  Rhi put the glass down and curled up next to her brother. She always felt safe with Finn. “Can I stay here for a while?”

  “Need you ask? Take the spare room.”

  “I might never leave it.”

  “You can’t be a hermit forever,” Finn said.

  “I can try.” Rhi stretched her legs across the lounge. She was more than happy hiding out here. “Or perhaps I should leave New York.”

  “Why would you do that? You’re a born and bred New Yorker, Rhi.”

  “I might have a better chance somewhere else.”

  Finn’s kind eyes searched her distraught ones. “What do you mean?”

  “Wouldn’t you love to escape the whole Dee legacy?”

  Finn glanced across the room at the framed photo of their parents. He hated being disloyal to anyone. “Sure, there have been times,” he admitted.

  “My career sucks because of them.” Rhi pointed at the photo and it shook slightly.

  “Rhi, you’re an excellent actress.”

  “I’m an out-of-work actress. Constantly! They are so famous that I never have a chance when I walk into a casting. People still remember me from the TV show.”

  “Really? I get the occasional ‘Have we met before?’ But other than that I rarely get recognized.” Finn poured Rhi some more wine. “I guess I can thank Taran for pulling the plug on our appearances earlier than you managed to.”

  “I wish I had a difficult twin.”