by Morgana Best
There Must be a Happy Medium
(The Middle-aged Ghost Whisperer, Book 3)
Copyright © 2016 by Morgana Best.
All Rights Reserved.
Smashwords Edition.
Smashwords License Notes.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy from your favorite ebook retailer. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The personal names have been invented by the author, and any likeness to the name of any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book may contain references to specific commercial products, process or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and/or trade names of products, which are trademarks or registered trademarks and/or trade names, and these are property of their respective owners. Morgana Best or her associates, have no association with any specific commercial products, process, or service by trade name, trademark, manufacturer, or otherwise, specific brand-name products and / or trade names of products.
By this act
And words of rhyme
Trouble not
These books of mine
With these words I now thee render
Candle burn and bad return
3 Times stronger to its sender.
(Ancient Celtic)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Connect with Morgana
Other Books by Morgana Best
About Morgana Best
Chapter 1
I quietly unfolded my newspaper and lazily looked through the contents. Nothing. I hadn’t really expected to find anything in the media about Alum.
I looked up at the sagging wooden frames of my cottage windows. They would have to be fixed, but that would take money. The ivy had gotten out of control and was crawling inch by inch along the cottage wall, greedily finding its way into cracks. I tried to inhale the scent of the lavender bushes at my feet, but the best I could do was imagine how it should be. Why was it that flowers lost their pungent fragrance away from the coast?
Or perhaps I had simply lost my sense of smell, along with my income—and my potential lover.
It had been a week, a long week of nothingness. No news in the media, no word from Alum. Again, I had expected it, but that did nothing to quell the anxiety gnawing away at the pit of my stomach. In all the years I had made my living as a clairvoyant medium, traveling around Australia doing shows, I had never seen a ghost with my physical eyes—that was, not until I saw Alum.
When Alum had first appeared to me, asking for my help, I thought he was a ghost. Even he had thought he was a ghost. It took the two of us some time to realize that he was in a coma, and it was his spirit that had been appearing to me. By then, I had fallen hopelessly in love with him. Finally, Alum’s spirit told me that he was in a safe house. I had to race against the clock to find him before his crooked ex-partner did.
Yet I did manage to track him down. No sooner had Alum recognized me, and to my relief, had obviously been pleased to see me, than Detective Brown had swiftly ushered me out of the room. Brown had taken my statement, debriefed me, sworn me to secrecy, and sent me on my way, promising to be in touch.
I knew Alum would need more time in the hospital, or rather in hospital care, but why hadn’t he called? I had given my number, my address, everything but my shoe size, to Detective Brown. Now that Alum’s former detective partner and would-be murderer had been arrested, there was no more need for secrecy.
My fears, as much as I did not want to face them, were that Alum had no feelings for me except as a friend. After all, I had only conversed with him in his spirit form when he was in the coma.
I rubbed my temples and once more tried to force myself to relax. The cats, Possum and Lily, pounced underneath bushes, looking for quarry. So far, they hadn’t found anything to hunt, so were content with fighting dandelions.
I walked back inside, thinking I should make some lunch. I had lost my appetite lately, no doubt due to my anxiety over the situation with Alum. I surveyed the kitchen and looked for something to eat. How long had that sandwich been in the refrigerator? I wasn’t sure, so I threw it in the trash. I didn’t need a bout of food poisoning to add to my troubles. Perhaps I should eat some ice cream. That had to be safer.
Before I even had a chance to fetch the ice cream from the freezer, there was a loud knock on the door. Alum?
I raced to the door, my heart beating out of my chest. I flung the door open, and my face fell. There, standing on my porch, were Constance, Iris, and Barbara.
“Hi,” I said, doing my best to inject enthusiasm into my voice. “What are you all doing here?”
Constance pushed past me by way of answer. “We brought you lunch, because you’ve lost weight lately.”
“That’s very kind of you,” I began, despite the fact it didn’t know whether or not it was a compliment, but Iris interrupted me.
“It’s good for young people to lose weight,” she said in obvious disapproval, “but when someone your age loses weight, it just makes them look haggard.”
I bit back a retort.
Barbara rolled her eyes at me in sympathy. “What you need is a man to cook for you,” she said. “Why don’t we set you up on another blind date?”
I shuddered and held up my hands. “Please don’t! I’ll find my own man.”
With that, the three of them burst into laughter. “It hasn’t worked for you so far, has it?” Barbara said.
Just then, Constance returned from the kitchen, and deposited plates around the coffee table. “Sandwiches,” she said. “I bought them from that lovely new store.”
I thanked her. “That’s so kind of you,” I said, sipping coffee from a take-out polystyrene cup. “This is awfully good coffee.” I considered that, as irritating as my three friends could be, they were at least well-intentioned—most of the time, anyway.
My phone rang, and I dived for it. “Hello?” To my dismay, it was an automated message telling me that my phone bill would be routinely deducted from my bank account at the end of the month, as always. I had asked the phone company not to send me any of those reminders, but it hadn’t stopped them so far.
I muttered rudely and then looked up to see the three of them staring at me. “You were expecting a man to call, weren’t you?” Barbara demanded in an accusing tone. Constance and Iris readily agreed.
“Of course not!” I lied.
“Are you on Tinder?” Barbara said. “I’m on Tinder, but all the men my age look old.”
“All the men your age are old,” Iris said, much to my annoyance. Barbara scowled at her. “You don’t want to die lonely and alone, do you, Prudence?” Iris continued. “You must be so lonely. You couldn’t make
your marriage work, and now your son’s living on the other side of the world.”
Constance ignored her, and asked me, “eHarmony?”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to consider online dating,” I said firmly.
Iris changed the subject back again. “Have you heard from your daughter at all? I know it’s a sore point. I don’t want to upset you by mentioning it.”
“No,” I said bluntly. My ex-husband had turned my daughter against me, and the subject did upset me greatly.
“You poor thing. I don’t want to upset you,” she said once more, “but your daughter’s been posting really nasty things about you on Facebook.”
I held up a hand. “Stop right there. I’d rather not know, seriously.”
Iris took no notice. “She was having a public Facebook conversation with your ex-husband about you, and they were saying some terrible things!” she continued. She must have seen the look on my face, because she changed the subject. “Anyway, how’s the job situation these days?”
“Oh gosh, that’s another worry,” I said without thinking.
Constance was the only one to pick up on it. “What do you mean another worry? Do you mean your daughter, or something else?”
I waved my hands in the air. “My agent told me that I don’t have a hope of doing any more big shows, what with all the international clairvoyant mediums coming out. He can probably get me some small bookings, but not enough to make a living out of it any more.”
Iris shook her head. “You poor thing.” That was her favorite expression, and it always rankled.
“No man, no job.” Barbara sighed.
“But you have sandwiches,” Constance said through a mouthful of crumbs.
For once, I admired her perspective.
“Where’s your laptop?” Barbara asked me.
I frowned. “Why?”
“If you don’t want to go on Tinder, then let’s find an online dating site and enroll you.”
“Good idea,” Iris said gleefully. “You’re not getting any younger, Prudence.”
I swallowed a mouthful of sandwich before speaking. “I don’t want to hear another word about online dating.” I waved a finger for emphasis. “My finances are my sole concern at this point in time.”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. “Who could that be?” Constance said, pushing past me to answer it. I hurried after her. Before I could reach her, she pulled the door open.
Alum was standing there.
“Hello, Constance,” he said, an obvious look of distaste on his face.
“Alum!” I squealed with delight.
“Do I know you?” Constance asked him, in a tone which made it obvious that she would certainly like to do so.
I saw Alum mentally catching himself. Despite the fact that he knew my three friends well, they had never seen him. In his spirit form, he had seen my friends and overheard many conversations between us all.
“Please come in,” I said.
As Alum rather nervously stepped into the room, all three females eyed him. They all looked predatory, as if they were about to pounce.
“Is he a friend of yours?” Barbara asked me, obviously hoping he wasn’t so she could have him for herself.
“I’m so sorry, Prudence wasn’t expecting me today,” Alum said smoothly. “I’m Detective Alum Mullein. Prudence recently helped us on a case.”
“You didn’t tell us that!” Constance said to me, evidently rather put out.
“That’s my fault,” Alum said. “She was sworn to secrecy. Police business, and all.”
The three women looked him up and down, clearly enjoying what they saw. “Please have one of the sandwiches,” Constance said. “Sit next to me.” She patted the couch next to her.
I resisted the urge to grab Alum by the elbow and announce that he was all mine. Finally, Alum was here, but I wasn’t able to speak to him in private, to see what was going on. I took heart in the fact that he was in my house, so that meant everything was okay, or so I hoped.
“Prudence, may I have a word with you in private?”
I was overjoyed. “Sure.”
He walked toward the kitchen, to the accompaniment of loud whispers by my friends discussing the fact that he knew the way.
“Outside,” I whispered. “They can hear us in here.” I was concerned that Alum might think it overkill, but then again, he had spent considerable time in the presence of my friends.
I stopped by the rosemary bushes and stood with a clear view of the windows. “How are you doing?” It was all I could do not to throw my arms around his neck.
He looked even better than he had in spirit form: tall, well-built, nicely muscled but not too much so, with kind, twinkling blue eyes. His graying hair only served to give him a distinguished air. His long nose and chiseled features added to the masculinity he exuded. His hair was cut short. He was better dressed than most cops, wearing stone colored chinos, brown Brogue shoes and a pale blue gingham shirt, worn out over his pants. Oh my gosh, you sound like a love-sick puppy, I silently scolded myself.
Alum laughed awkwardly. “I’m a little weak, but recovering. I can’t stay long. Prudence, it feels as if I’ve known you forever, but this is the first time we’ve actually spoken in the flesh, so to speak.”
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
“Would you have dinner with me?”
I beamed. “I’d love to.” My heart skipped a beat. Was this the beginning of a wonderful relationship? It seemed too good to be true. I had fantasized about this moment for so long.
Alum smiled, and briefly touched my arm. I wondered if he felt the tingles of electricity, just as I had. “I have so much to tell you, Prudence. I have to thank you properly, too.”
I sensed the smile fade from my face. Was Alum simply grateful? Or did he truly have feelings for me?
Chapter 2
I was sitting out in my garden, looking online for jobs on my laptop. Who would want to employ someone my age? I wasn’t qualified for anything but as a clairvoyant medium. I had been in business for myself for years. And jobs that did not require experience wanted fifteen year olds.
My money would run out soon, and then what would I do? I had a mortgage. Sure, it was a small one, but was nevertheless a mortgage. The payments for that weren’t going to materialize out of thin air.
I rubbed my eyes, already sore from the sleepless night, and then ran my hands through my hair. I looked at my cats sprawled out in the sun. If only I could be as carefree as a cat.
For no apparent reason, the cats suddenly jumped up and sprinted back into the house. Whatever had disturbed them? My first thought was a deadly Eastern Brown snake, but I had snake netting around my garden to make it snake proof, and at any rate, the cats would likely stalk a snake.
I couldn’t see over the high garden wall, so I walked back into the house. Perhaps it was someone coming to the door, although I hadn’t heard a car.
I opened the front door to see a brown dog in my front yard. The dog looked friendly enough, so I called her over and looked at her name tag. I could see a name and address, but no phone number. “Hello, Mary,” I said to the dog, while restraining her from jumping up on me. “How did you get out?”
Her name tag showed she was owned by the unsociable, some said mean-spirited, old lady at the end of the lane. The whole town knew that old Mrs. Cornford owned a dingo. Mary was the only pet dingo in these parts, as far as I knew. I hadn’t recognized her as a dingo, because I had only seen pictures of the skinny, wild ones on the internet. This one was sleek and well fed.
She rolled over so I could tickle her tummy. I made baby talk while I obliged with a tummy rub.
I took Mary into the house to find something that would do as a leash so I could take her back home. This was the first time I had seen her roaming the streets—in fact this was the first time I had ever laid eyes on her. I knew that Ella Cornford had a pet dingo because this was a small country town, so everyone knew about
everyone else and their comings and goings in more detail than anyone wanted to know.
One thing was certain, this was a friendly dog. As a cat person, I didn’t have a leash in the house, so I finally decided to make do with a clip-on handbag strap. As soon as I clipped on the makeshift leash, the cats peeked around the corner. Possum zoomed past Mary, startling her, while Lily sneaked up behind her and swiped at her bottom, all the while growling horribly.
Given the cats’ reaction, I took Mary out the door as fast as I could. Mary led nicely until a rabbit darted across our path. The next thing I knew, I was face down in the leaves at the side of the road, still clutching the strap. I struggled to my feet and managed to gain some semblance of control over Mary who was straining on the leash and looking in the direction of the rabbit’s departure. I looped the strap over my hand, and tried to get her attention, to no avail. Finally, I had to walk away, all but dragging Mary for the first few steps. After that, she trotted happily beside me. “This is why I’m a cat person,” I informed her. “I think the handbag clip took some skin off my hand.” Mary licked my knee in response.
It wasn’t far to Mrs. Cornford’s house. The air was hot and still, and the pungent scent of eucalyptus clung to me. It was a pleasant fragrance, but for some reason it made my growing feeling of apprehension worse. I kept a tight hold on the strap and an eagle eye out for rabbits.
When I reached the leaning wire netting fence at the front of Mrs. Cornford’s garden, Mary took off once more, but this time I was prepared for her. Her prey, however, was not a rabbit, but rather a lady.
By the look on Mary’s face, she wanted to lick the lady, jump up on her, and knock her over, yet—or so I assumed—out of kindness rather than wanting to devour her, which was how she obviously felt about the rabbits. I recognized the lady as Sally Symons, a local maid.
“Hi, Sally,” I said, “I’m just bringing back Mary, Mrs. Cornford’s dog. She turned up in my yard just then.”
Sally backed away. “Please don’t let that dog near me. She always jumps up on me and licks me. I’ve got scratches all over my legs.”
