Free Ghosts Know by Ramsey Campbell

one…”
    This is my bid for the style Paula thinks our new owners would prefer, and I think it makes me sound like a Frugo cashier chatting at a checkout. The callers want to argue, though not about this. Dave from Mostyn objects that the name of the day is offensive—that we ought to say overweight, not obese. Julie from Withington thinks it isn’t offensive enough—that the greedy are offending the rest of us by eating too much of our food and expecting us to pay for their bad health and just by making us have to look at them. Hilary from Whalley Range maintains that parents of corpulent children should be required to wear T-shirts saying I’m A Fat Kid’s Mam or Dad. It’s time to play an ad for Frugoliath exercise equipment, after which we have Peter from Didsbury. He’s so outraged by all the comments he calls weightist that he sets about broadcasting his glandular history at length. I’m about to cut this short, since I think he has more than made his point, when Christine says in my headphones “Do you want this next call? It’s about Frank Jasper.”
    “I don’t need protecting from him, Chris.”
    “Only it’s the lady you recorded at the Palace. Cheryl from Droylsden.”
    I gaze hard at Christine, not least because I didn’t mention that the woman came to Waves. “Let her at me,” I say and go back on the air. “Thanks for all that, Peter. Now here’s Cheryl from Droylsden on quite another subject, aren’t you, Cheryl?”
    “You didn’t tell me you were going to invite Mr Jasper back.”
    “I didn’t invite him, he came unannounced. Anyway, you had another chance to hear him.”
    “I didn’t.” Just as resentfully she adds “My friend says you wanted to get rid of him.”
    “Not for a moment, Cheryl. If he’d like to get in touch I’ve a few more questions for him.”
    “My friend says you only have him on to make him say what you want everyone to hear.”
    “I don’t think I could force Frankie to say anything. That’s his trick.” I nearly lost control there—Frankie was the name he disliked at school— and so I don’t pause before saying “When he was on yesterday—”
    “My friend says you cut him off”.”
    “Somebody he brought was using language we can’t broadcast.”
    “She thinks you used that for an excuse.”
    “Is she there, Cheryl? By all means put her on.”
    “I’m on my own.” This reminds me she’s recently widowed, but before I can apologise Cheryl says “She wouldn’t talk to you anyway. She says you won’t let people have their say if you don’t agree with them.”
    “I really don’t think—”
    “See, you’re doing it now, and she says you did to Mr Jasper. She says you didn’t want anyone to hear what he had to say about you.”
    I can’t let rage make me speechless. “By all means tell everybody what that is.”
    “He was saying you were mixed up with the girl they’re looking for.”
    “Her name’s Kylie Goodchild, Cheryl. Everyone should keep a lookout for her, but I don’t think there’s any use looking round here. At me, I mean, or anybody else here for that matter.”
    “Mr Jasper wouldn’t have come without a reason.”
    “I signed a photograph for her, that’s all. I did for half her class when they came on a school visit.”
    I think Cheryl had no answer to that until I hear a muffled sound. She has put her hand over the mouthpiece. I feel as if I’m being forced to believe in an unseen presence—as if Jasper has brought off one of his tricks. In a few moments she declares “My friend says—”
    “I thought she wasn’t supposed to be there.”
    “She’s just come in.” As I refrain from wondering aloud if the friend even exists, Cheryl tells everyone “She says you said you never saw the girl at all.”
    “Honestly, nobody needs to be scared of me,” I say with all the calm I can produce. “Your friend’s more than welcome to speak up for herself.”
    “I told you, Mr Wilde, she won’t come on