Bill was still adjusting, he'd had some time sure, but after a life of being incredibly pretty now he had to get used to people staring for a new reason.
At home ghosts weren't about to shake hands unless you wanted to dunk your fist into a bucket of ice water, so it was a novelty to feel the skin of a real unlive ghost. Mike's little ramble about ghosts and roasts made Bill laugh and he rocked on his heels as he looked him over. Americans were charming in the way they talked, unknowingly so American about it. "My cooking magic isn't as good as my mum's but it will do in a pinch," he said.
"Shall we walk?" Bill offered, holding out his arm to Mike as he did. There was still more to see and standing still sort of felt like a big ask when it wasn't to morosely stare into the distance.