Edward was dead, that was for sure. Hadn't I dragged him out of the sea and up the pebbly beach? My shoes and fishing clothes still bore testimony to that fact. I'd promised to meet him for our weekly fishing trip, but had been delayed by an hour, and he'd gone out by himself.

Now, two weeks later, here he was, as large as life, leaning against the bar in the "Vicar's Arms" as if nothing had happened!

Oh! There you are!" he greeted me as I hesitated in the doorway. "Come on, I've just ordered you a large whisky."

I thought to myself, I'll need a few of them before I can sort this one out. I sidled up to the bar, taking care not to come too close to him - I had never had any dealings with a ghost before!

He looked pretty substantial, much as he'd always been, big and brash, a trifle drunk, and in general just Edward.

We had buried him a week ago, a moving service it was too. The Reverend Peabody talked about Edward's love of fishing, and the way he used to help the local pensioners with their gardens (in return for beer money of course, but the vicar didn't mention that!)

Edward carried our drinks over to the inglenook window and sat down in one of the comfortable armchairs. He stared at me but said nothing for quite a while. Then he started to regale me with all his news. He said he and his ex-wife had been at the hotel they'd spent their honeymoon in, for the last two weeks and they'd had a wonderful time together. "No ties y'see," he laughed. "We were just like a courting couple!"

"So you're getting together again?" I asked, as if in a dream.

"No fear of that!" He grimaced, " I couldn't face all that trauma again." He looked into his beer, by this time the glass was nearly empty. "Have a refill?" I asked, putting my hand out as he replied, "I don't mind if I do!" With that he downed the dregs and passed the now empty glass to me.

By this time I had almost forgotten that he was dead, but Fred, the barman, said, "If I didn't know better I'd say that was Edward." I made no reply and so he continued, "That his twin brother then?"

Now there was a thought, maybe it was his brother, come to claim his inheritance, such as it was, a two up two down terraced house in the rough area of town. Not much money either I shouldn't think, Edward had lived on social security for as long as I could remember.

I've not seem Beryl since you and she got divorced," I said as I sunk back into the comfortable chair I'd been sitting in. This subterfuge should convince me that I'm not seeing a ghost, I thought. "No I guess not," he mused. "When we split up she went to work in Sheffield." He straightened and continued, "Strange how we met up in the same hotel at Torquay isn't it?" He took a good swig of his beer, no ghost could drink like that I thought, it would run out at the bottom or something, but Beryl was his Ex. so that ploy hadn't worked had it?

Perhaps it was Edward's twin that I had pulled from the sea. That didn't seem likely though, Edward had the same clothes on in which he had drowned. I looked more closely at him - he was somewhat more dishevelled than usual, and come to think of it, there was a definite smell of seaweed in the air. It had been getting gradually stronger, and now even I noticed it.

Then I remembered a bit of gossip I'd overheard at his funeral. Two old women had been chatting. "Sent her to an early grave he did, soon as they parted she jumped off a bridge near Sheffield - she went under an express train."

Before I could ask him if he'd heard this, he started to shout at me, "You were never a good timekeeper were you?" His body seemed to slump and tears came to his eyes. I'd never seen him in such a state. Then he straightened up and glared at me, genuine anger amongst the tears, which still flowed. "You were bloody well too late for our fishing trip! Too bloody late as usual!"