by K E O'Connor
Ghostly Manners (Lorna Shadow cozy ghost mystery, Book 1)
K.E. O'Connor
Published by K.E. O'Connor, 2016.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
GHOSTLY MANNERS (LORNA SHADOW COZY GHOST MYSTERY, BOOK 1)
First edition. December 14, 2016.
Copyright © 2016 K.E. O'Connor.
Written by K.E. O'Connor.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
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
Chapter 23
Chapter 1
“How about the personal assistant to a Latin prince?” I circled the wanted ad in my copy of the Lady magazine with a red pen.
“We both know what Latin princes are like.” My best friend, Helen Holliday, raised a pale blonde eyebrow as she regarded me over the top of her newspaper. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten the experience in the faux chateau with Prince Leopold the Third? I still have his handprint on my backside.”
“That's not an experience I'm ever going to forget.” I grimaced at the memory of our rather too hands-on former employer.
“He must have smacked my behind a dozen times before I threatened to break his fingers.”
“I do remember shortly after you had that interesting conversation with him, we were looking for another job.” I held aloft my copy of the wanted ads and grinned at Helen. She was the light to my dark, a mess of blonde curls, bright blue eyes, and killer curves. I was darker, with hip bones that jutted out and a dependence on padded bras to give me shape. We had grown up together and now shared a compact two bed apartment on the outskirts of Oxfordshire.
“It was time for a change,” said Helen. “Other than a Latin prince needing staff, what other jobs are available to test our extraordinary skills?”
“The pickings aren’t great this month,” I said with a sigh. Helen and I worked as a team; Helen was a seamstress and laundress extraordinaire, who could get the stains out of anything, and was a genius with a needle. And I was a whizz when it came to paperwork. Give me a pile of filing or some letters to type, and I was your go to girl.
“So far, I’ve seen a part-time pig handler role I’m interested in or a domestic servant to some crumbling sounding estate that’s over five hundred miles away,” said Helen. “Nothing the two of us can do.”
“I can see you in overalls, a pig staff in hand, as you try to round up some noisy porkers,” I said.
“It doesn’t sound so different to some of the jobs I’ve had to do in the past.” The late morning sun slanted through the sash window behind her and lit Helen up like an angel. “Remember that dreadful uniform Viscount Templeton ordered me to wear? I swear the hem on the dress was about two inches from indecency.”
“Which was why he wanted you to wear it.” Helen’s legs were long and toned. Any man would have trouble not leering at them when she got her pins out. “And don’t forget, he tried to get me to put on some sexy secretary glasses and gaze over the top of them at him while I did his dictation.”
“So we’re looking for a non-sleazy boss this time around,” said Helen. “Someone who pays us what we’re owed and leaves us alone so we don’t need to lock our doors at night.”
“That sounds like the perfect job.” In truth, most of the jobs we went to were fine. We specialised in working for the well-to-do and aristocracy. The jobs were well paid, and all of them gave us the opportunity to live in some of the most beautiful parts of the UK, and sometimes abroad, and revel in the castles, stately homes, and manor houses we often found ourselves in. I’d never be able to afford a slice of life like that if it weren’t for my job. Plus, it meant we weren’t tied to any one location and could go exploring whenever we fancied, using our tiny but cozy apartment as a bolt hole when we needed a holiday from all the poshness and old fashioned etiquette that could sometimes drive you mad.
The door to the living room crashed open and Flipper, my scruffy mixed breed dog, dashed through. He launched himself at me onto the flower covered chair I was curled in, and I was smothered by his warm doggy smell as he pressed his nose against my neck.
“Someone wants a walk,” said Helen.
“We only went out a few hours ago.” I scratched behind Flipper’s ears as he continued to nestle in my arms. It wasn't the most comfortable experience; Flipper was a chunky dog. But I'd cuddled him like this since he was a puppy, and the habit stuck, even as he grew.
“I’m sure he’s got some collie in him,” said Helen. “He’s always full of energy, like a child who’s just eaten a bag of sugar coated sweets.”
“You’re probably right. But before we go for any walks, we need to find a job to apply for,” I said. “And it needs to be dog friendly. I’m not leaving Flipper behind; he hates to be on his own.”
As if he’d heard and understood what I’d said, Flipper whined and licked the back of my hand. I’d had Flipper since he was a puppy, discovering him abandoned by the side of the road five years ago, a small bag of food and a tatty looking toy in a bag next to him with a scribbled note attached. Apparently, his former owner decided a puppy was too much work and couldn’t be bothered taking him to a shelter.
One look at those sad blue eyes surrounded by messy fur, and I’d been suckered in. I'd scooped him up, gave him a bath, food, and lots of cuddles and that was it, partners for life. He’d barely left my side since then, apart from one short-lived attempt when I worked away from home without him. That had ended in a chewed sofa and three pairs of shoes I’d had to destroy. When I took on a new job these days, it was always with the condition that Flipper and Helen came with me. We were like the Three Musketeers, just without the swords, or fighting skills, or horses. So not really like them at all.
I shifted the magazine from underneath Flipper’s belly and turned the page. “How about this?” I said, after a moment of reading through the ads. “Personal assistant to Lord Galbraith and domestic assistant for general household duties. Immediate start and good rates of pay. Accommodation included. Couples welcome.”
“We could be a couple,” said Helen.
“The advert doesn’t specify what gender the couple needs to be,” I said. “I wonder if they’ll take Flipper as well?”
“These old houses usually accommodate dogs. And Flipper is such a good boy, who wouldn’t want to have him around?” Clearly revelling in the attention Helen was giving him, Flipper jumped off my lap and loped over to her.
“He’s such a turncoat.” I lifted my phone and dialed the number on the advert.
“You’re going to apply now?” Helen stroked her fingers through Flipper’s dark grey fur. In certain light, he looked almost wolf-like, with his grey markings and ice blue eyes.
“Why not? We need a job, and this could be ideal for us.”
The call connected. “Galbraith Manor,” said an extremely posh male voice.
“Hello, my name is Lorna Shadow. I’m inquiring about the positions you have advertised in the Lady magazine. Are they still available?”
“Yes, the positions are still vacant,” said the posh man. “In fact, I placed the advertisement myself. I’m Lord Sylvester Galb
raith the Fifth. Are you interested in a particular role?”
“I’m interested in both of them,” I said. “I’m an experienced personal assistant, and my partner is a skilled laundress and seamstress.”
“You would be coming together as a couple?” asked Lord Galbraith.
“If that is acceptable. I can send you references and details of my experience.” I gave a discrete thumbs-up to Helen who sat snuggled on the sofa with Flipper, both of them listening to my conversation.
“Your details would be most appreciated,” said Lord Galbraith. “I am in somewhat dire need of a personal assistant. My previous girl left on maternity leave. She promised to come back, but it would appear the allure of a baby is more enticing than I am. Never could understand that myself. Babies make so much noise and mess.”
“So I’ve been told.” I didn’t have children of my own. Maybe one day, but it would take a special man to make me give up my independence. Besides, Flipper was my baby. Fur babies I could handle.
“You say you have experience working in a personal assistant capacity?” asked Lord Galbraith.
“I have five years’ experience as a personal assistant. I have been assistant to Count Carnarvon and Viscount Reedswell.”
“Excellent! Berty and Simon are friends of mine,” said Lord Galbraith brightly. “I will be sure to speak to them and get recommendations of your work.”
“Please do so.” I knew they would give me good references. I had enjoyed working for both men, especially Viscount Reedswell, who was partial to having afternoon tea with fancy cakes and champagne every day. He always invited me to join him, and I often said yes. It meant I’d gained half a stone while I worked for him, but those cakes were worth it.
“If you’ve worked for both of those chaps, and they can vouch for you, then I see no reason to go through any formal interview,” said Lord Galbraith. “If you send me your CV and your partner’s details, I will check them over, and give old Bertie and Simon a call. It’s been too long since I’ve spoken to them. If they say you’re good for the role, then I will believe them.”
“Thank you so much,” I said. “And you want an immediate start?”
“That’s right,” said Lord Galbraith. “I was somewhat tardy in placing the advertisement for help, and I’m afraid things have gotten a little out of control here. You will have your work cut out for you by joining the household. But I assure you, we are a fair and friendly bunch. If you work hard, we will reward you for that. And if you were able to get my old friend Berty into shape, I will be a pussycat in comparison.”
“I would be happy to accept,” I said. “There is just one small thing I want to ask you before I do.”
“Go ahead,” said Lord Galbraith.
I took a deep breath, knowing this revelation might destroy the job prospect. “I have a medical condition, which means I sometimes faint.”
“You faint!”
“It’s nothing serious, and I assure you it doesn’t affect my work,” I said swiftly. “But I have a companion dog who comes with me. He acts as an early warning system to alert me if I am about to faint. He is well-trained and extremely loyal, and you won’t even know he is there. But it would mean an awful lot to me if I can bring him to the house, as well, for peace of mind if nothing else.”
“I see no reason why he cannot accompany you,” said Lord Galbraith after a short pause. “I’m rather partial to dogs, although I don’t have any of my own at the moment.”
“He is excellent company and friendly. If you ever wanted to walk him, he’d be happy to come with you.”
“That’s a lovely idea,” said Lord Galbraith. “And you are certain this medical condition of yours will not interfere with your daily duties? I don’t like to discriminate, but if you are unwell, perhaps you should be in a hospital, not coming to work for me.”
I stifled a laugh; if only he knew the truth. “My work will be unaffected by this. And with my dog by my side, I always know if I need to take a break. But I guarantee you I will be committed to the work, and it will not impact anything I do in my role.”
“Good enough for me,” said Lord Galbraith. “Let’s get the details sorted, and we can start with a three month trial. If all goes well, you may like to stay here on a permanent basis. Good staff are hard to find.”
I took down a few more details from Lord Galbraith, emailed him my CV while we were on the phone, and said my goodbyes.
“You’re such a liar,” said Helen. “Fainting fits!”
“I can hardly say I have a built-in ghost detector, can I? That would be a sure-fire way of never getting paid work again.” That was a special skill I never listed to potential employers. I’d been able to see ghosts ever since I’d almost drowned as a child. When I'd come to after that frightening incident, I had a fear of water and a knack for seeing ghosts. And as for Flipper being my companion dog, he was actually my own furry ghost detector, giving me a heads-up whenever one was about to appear.
“I think listing ghostbuster in your summary of special skills would be a good thing.” Helen knew all about my special ability. Having grown up together, she was used to me speaking to ghosts. But what convinced her my ghost friends were real was when her Grandma appeared to me and told Helen off for weeing in the kettle when she was five years old. Since I’d revealed that nugget of information, Helen was a true believer when it came to me seeing ghosts.
“Ghostbusting aside, if all goes well, we could be in a new job by the end of the day.”
“How exciting,” said Helen. “I’ve got a new mix of stain remover I’ve been longing to try.” Helen was geekily obsessed with cleaning products and loved nothing more than spending hours in the kitchen mixing all kinds of pastes and liquids.
“You do know how to let your hair down,” I teased.
“I aim to do my best work for our demanding clients.” She thumbed her nose at me. “And you know how demanding our posh lot can be. Everything needs to be starched, crease free, and not a stain to be seen.”
Our employers were demanding, but it was one of the reasons I liked to work for them. I had high standards and liked to do the best possible job I could for the people I worked with. The fact they paid me well and gave me beautiful accommodation to live in were added bonuses.
“Let’s hope this one wants us to stay long-term.” It had been several months since either of us had been in full-time work, and bills did not magically pay themselves.
“I have a good feeling about these jobs,” said Helen.
An hour later, so did I, having received a phone call from Lord Galbraith, confirming Helen and I could start our jobs immediately.
I put the phone down and turned to Helen. “Pack your bags; we’re going to the manor house.”
Chapter 2
A frantic hour of packing followed, before Helen, Flipper, and I were traveling the two hundred miles in my small, dark blue car, heading towards Galbraith Manor.
The manor house was located in the depths of the Wiltshire countryside, a beautiful, and ridiculously expensive part of the country, full of millionaires and retired bankers.
I slowed the car as several pheasants dashed out from one side of the narrow lane we cruised along. I was used to the tiny back lanes many of our clients lived down. The very wealthy liked their privacy, and they liked their fancy houses surrounded by lush grounds.
“Shift over a bit, Flipper,” said Helen from the back seat, where Flipper was sprawled over her shoulder half asleep. Most dogs got overexcited by being in a car, knowing they were heading out for a walk. Flipper was the opposite; sit him in a car and he was asleep in seconds, just like a baby. And he was my baby, just covered in fur and weighing fifty pounds.
“You should sit up front with me,” I said.
“He’d only join us if I did that,” said Helen. “And besides, you drive too fast. I’d end up not seeing any of the journey because I’d have my eyes closed, hoping you didn’t crash into anything.”
“My
driving is fine.” I was a little speedy at times, but I knew how to handle a car.
“The back seat means I can stretch out more,” said Helen. “That is, when your dog isn’t squashing me half to death.”
Flipper grumbled as if reprimanding Helen.
“If you look to the left,” I said, “you should get a glimpse of the manor house soon.” Late afternoon sunshine spiked through the summer shade provided by the trees I drove past. It was already late summer, and there wouldn’t be many weeks before hints of autumn slipped in to join us, and I’d soon be digging out my long boots and tights. Summer never lasted for long in this part of the world.
“I can see it,” said Helen. “It’s a pale sandstone coloured building. Is that the right one?”
“Sounds like the description Lord Galbraith gave me,” I said. “Keep an eye out for the private driveway. They don’t always put signposts up, so they can be tricky to spot.”
We drove for another half a mile before Helen thumped the back of my seat, jerking Flipper awake as she did so. “That looks like a road to me.”
I stopped the car and peered into the dense undergrowth. Barely visible was a gravel driveway and, beyond that, a large black metal gate.
“Let’s go see.” I turned into the driveway and crept along as bushes swiped at the car.
We arrived at the closed gates, and after waiting a few seconds to see if they would open, I hopped out of the car and searched around for a buzzer or intercom to let us inside. The air was warm, and crickets buzzed lazily in the scrubby grass.
“What’s the hold-up?” called Helen from inside the car.
“No sign of how to get in,” I said. “I thought the gates would be open, since they’re expecting us.”
A large, sleek black sedan pulled up behind my car, and its horn was beeped several times.
I hurried over to the sedan and waited by the driver’s window until it slid down.
“Are you lost?” asked the driver, a narrow faced man with a black cap on his head.
“No, well, at least I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m due to start work with Lord Galbraith, but can’t figure out how to open the gate so we can get to the house.”
