Deciding to simply ignore the message for now, Fenella led Shelly into her bedroom and threw open the doors to Mona’s wardrobe. She kept meaning to go through everything in it, but it felt intrusive, especially with Mona’s ghost wandering in and out all the time.
“This one,” Shelly said, pulling a long red dress off of the rack. “Or no, this one,” she said quickly, adding a blue gown to her hand. “Or you could go with classic black,” she added, pulling a third dress from the wardrobe.
“Oh, goodness,” Fenella said. “How can I ever chose?”
“Try them all on,” Shelly suggested. “And while you do that, I’ll see what else I can find.”
Fenella took the dresses into the adjoining bathroom and slipped into the red one. It fit perfectly.
“I look glamorous,” she said to Shelly as she walked out of the bathroom.
“You look amazing,” Shelly cooed. “That one would be perfect, but try the others, too.”
Fenella changed into first the blue and then the black dress. While they both fit her well, neither made her feel as gorgeous as the red one had.
“It’s the red one,” Shelly said definitely, after she’d seen the other two options. “Although I did find a few others, if you’re interested.”
Fenella glanced at the dresses on Shelly’s arm and shook her head. “I think I’ll just go with the red one. I feel fabulous in it, even though I didn’t shave my legs today. Imagine how wonderful I’ll feel tomorrow night with smooth legs.”
Shelly laughed. “There are some fabulous silver shoes in here that will be perfect with that dress,” she said. “And a matching evening bag.”
“That was easier than I thought it would be,” Fenella said a short time later. She and Shelly were curled up on the couch sipping soft drinks, with Katie between them.
“Are you excited about seeing Donald again?” Shelly asked.
“Excited? I don’t know. Nervous might be a better word. He’s out of my league, really.”
“He isn’t,” Shelly laughed. “And don’t you let yourself think that way. He’s rich, but that doesn’t make him any better than you.”
After Shelly left, Fenella got ready for bed. She gave Katie fresh water and a handful of dry food and then switched off the lights in the kitchen.
“I loved that dress,” Mona said softly from somewhere behind Fenella.
“It’s beautiful,” Fenella said, after her heart rate returned to normal.
“I wore it for several very special occasions, including the wedding of a man who’d treated me very badly,” Mona said. “His wife-to-be nearly didn’t go through with the ceremony when she saw me.”
“I’m just going to a charity fundraiser with Donald,” Fenella said.
“You’ll be the best dressed there,” Mona predicted. “And the subject of a great deal of conversation.”
“Why?”
“Donald is well-known and important on the island,” Mona told her. “Who he chooses to spend his time with is of interest to many people with nothing else with which to entertain themselves.”
“It’s going to be awkward and awful, isn’t it?” Fenella asked.
“You must simply rise above it,” Mona counseled her. “Spend time with Donald, have fun, and ignore the looks and the whispering.”
“I’ll try,” Fenella said.
“Channel your inner Aunt Mona,” Mona advised. “I never went anywhere without getting talked about. It can be quite fun in a way. Just act as if you don’t care, and after a while you’ll find that you actually don’t.”
“Did you go and visit Peter?” Fenella asked.
“I told you I was going to,” Mona replied.
“But he could see you,” Fenella said. “And I thought you couldn’t go anywhere outside of the apartment, anyway.”
Mona sighed. “I really don’t have the time to explain the entire spirit world to you right now,” she said. “There are limits to where I can go, but a quick trip to Noble’s to see Peter didn’t use up too much energy. And it was worth it. I miss him and Shelly quite a lot.”
“You get to see them nearly every day,” Fenella pointed out.
“But I don’t get to talk to them,” Mona said. “It was lovely to talk to him. He’s quite taken with you, by the way. You must take care not to break his heart.”
“As if I could,” Fenella said. “But what did he say about me?”
Mona didn’t reply. After a minute, Fenella switched the lights back on. Katie looked up from her water bowl but Mona was nowhere to be seen. Frowning, Fenella turned off the lights again and took herself off to bed.
“Meerrrooowww,” Katie said, patting Fenella on the tip of her nose. “Mmmeeeerrrrrooooowwwwww.”
Fenella opened one eye and squinted at the clock. It was six and far too early to think about getting up. “Go away,” she muttered to the kitten. Rolling over, she pulled the duvet up over her head and tucked it in around her nose.
“Yooowwww,” Katie said. A moment later, Katie jumped squarely onto Fenella’s head. When Fenella didn’t move, she began to walk down her neck and onto her shoulder. By the time she reached Fenella’s hip, Fenella was laughing.
“Okay, you win,” she said. Katie jumped down and Fenella rolled out of bed. After giving the kitten her breakfast, Fenella took a shower and got dressed. She made herself some toast with jam for her own breakfast before wondering if she should check on Peter.
After several minutes of indecision, she decided to try knocking gently on his door. The door swung open almost immediately.
“I just wanted to check on you,” she stammered, surprised to see the man fully dressed and looking back to his old self.
“I’m fine,” he said with a sigh. “But I’m also tired of being an invalid. I want to get out somewhere and do something.”
“Why don’t we go to ShopFast?” Shelly suggested in a bright voice from behind Fenella. “I noticed yesterday that you were out of nearly everything. If you think you’re up to it, I’ll take you over and you can get what you need.”
“I think I’m up to it,” Peter said. “And you’re right. I had stale cereal for breakfast.”
“You should have come next door,” Fenella said. “I have stale bread for toast.”
“So you need a shopping trip, too,” Shelly said. “We’ll leave in five minutes.”
It was closer to ten minutes before everyone was ready to go, but the shopping trip itself didn’t take long. Peter got tired quite quickly, but as it was early, the store wasn’t busy and they managed to get everything on his list before he needed to head for home. Fenella got everything on her list as well, and she felt better a short time later when her shelves and refrigerator were fully stocked.
“Lunch in my flat at twelve,” Peter told them both as they carried his shopping into his kitchen for him. “I’ll heat soup and put out everything for sandwiches. I just need a short nap first.”
After lunch Fenella and Shelly took a long walk on the promenade before Fenella returned home to soak in her tub for a while.
“It’s exactly what you need before your big night out,” Shelly had told her during their walk. “A long, leisurely bath will get you in the right frame of mind for tonight. Take a glass of wine in with you.”
“I’m only following Shelly’s advice,” Fenella told her reflection as she slipped into her bubble-filled tub with a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other. Half an hour later, she remembered why she never took long baths. The wine was delicious, but the book was a problem. She didn’t want to get it wet, but holding it above the bubbles made her arms tired. Besides, she kept slipping further into the water and having to use one hand to stop herself, which meant turning pages was impossible. With a sigh, she put the book as far from the tub as she could and settled back to relax.
“I’m bored,” she said after a moment. “I don’t think baths are really my thing.”
With that thought in mind, she finished her wine and climbed out
of the tub. When she was dry, she watched some pointless television until it was time to start getting ready for the evening ahead.
The butterflies in her stomach threatened to make her sick as she dropped the red gown over her head. Once she’d fastened the zipper, however, she found that she felt calm and collected. Really, this dress is magical, she thought, as she pinned up her hair and applied her makeup. The silver shoes looked wonderful with the dress and it only took her a moment to move what she needed from her everyday handbag into the small evening bag that matched the shoes. She was ready to go with two minutes to spare.
“You look stunning,” Donald told her when she opened the door to his knock. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I didn’t have to fly back to New York tomorrow.”
“You look pretty good yourself,” Fenella said, taking in the handsome dark-haired man’s perfectly fitted tuxedo.
“Shall we?” he invited her, offering his arm.
Fenella took it and let him lead her out into the corridor. When they reached the lobby, she was surprised to see a limousine at the door.
“I wasn’t expecting this,” she murmured as Donald helped her into the car.
“Everyone will be arriving by limo tonight,” Donald said. “It’s that kind of evening.”
A few butterflies flitted through Fenella’s stomach, but she managed to ignore them and focus on Donald. He made her tell him what she’d been doing since he’d left the island and then told her a few stories about his travels and business dealings. They drove to Ramsey along the coast road and Fenella could barely take her eyes off the scenery as they went.
“I can’t believe how beautiful the island is,” she told Donald. “Or rather, I can’t imagine why it isn’t overpopulated. Who wouldn’t want to live here?”
Donald laughed. “It is special, but there are many other islands with gorgeous views and much nicer weather,” he said. “I have a little house in Tortola in the Virgin Islands. I need to take you there one day.”
Fenella was glad she was looking out the window. Hopefully, Donald couldn’t see her blushing that way. The thought of traveling with him to a Caribbean island was slightly overwhelming, even in her magic red dress.
Outside the huge hotel, a red carpet had been laid out. As Fenella stepped out of the car, flashbulbs popped and someone shouted. “Donald, who’s your friend?”
Donald smiled as he took Fenella’s arm and led her into the hotel’s vast lobby. “We’re down here,” he said, leading her through the lobby and down a long corridor. The thick carpeting made walking in her heels slightly difficult, but with Donald’s arm to lean on, Fenella made it to the huge ballroom unscathed.
Gorgeous crystal chandeliers sparkled above tables set with cut crystal wineglasses and shining silver cutlery. There were fountains dispensing drinks scattered around the room and formally dressed waiters and waitresses seemed to be everywhere with trays full of delicious-looking tidbits.
“Wow,” Fenella breathed.
“It is lovely,” Donald said. “Let’s get some champagne.”
With glasses of champagne in hand, the pair began to circulate. Fenella quickly gave up on trying to remember all of the names of the people to whom she was introduced. She met many members of the island’s government, company CEOs, and a few minor celebrities who she suspected had been flown to the island especially for the event.
“That’s one circuit of the room done,” Donald said some time later as they found themselves back at the champagne fountain where they’d started. “I need another drink before we start over again.”
“Must we?” Fenella blushed as she realized she’d spoken out loud.
Donald grinned. “We can stand here for a short while,” he said. “Maybe people will come and find us, instead of us having to go and find them.”
A moment later, Fenella heard a familiar voice.
“My goodness, what are you doing here?” Florence March said in a shocked voice.
Fenella forced herself to smile as she turned to face the woman and her husband.
“Mrs. March, this is a pleasant surprise,” she lied brightly.
Stanley frowned. “It’s Fenella something, isn’t it? From the ferry? I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
Donald slid an arm around Fenella’s shoulders. “Fenella is a very dear friend of mine,” he said smoothly. “She was kind enough to agree to accompany me tonight.”
Stanley looked at Florence, who frowned. “Donald, it’s always nice to see you,” she said after a minute.
“It’s always lovely to see you as well,” Donald said. “You and Stanley seem to travel almost as much as I do. We’re hardly ever on the island at the same time.”
“Except you travel for business and we travel for pleasure,” Florence said. “I’m not sure we’ll be taking the ferry again, though. Not after the unpleasantness last weekend.”
“Yes, of course, that’s where you met my Fenella,” Donald said. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you all.”
“We had to cancel all manner of plans,” Stanley complained. “It was incredibly inconvenient.”
“And poor Robert Grosso died,” Fenella reminded them.
“Yes, but I can’t help but think that he was doing something criminal, sneaking on board the boat early like that,” Florence said. “We boarded early, of course, but only because it’s so much more convenient that way.”
“You boarded early?” Fenella asked.
“Not terribly early,” Florence said quickly. “Just a little bit before we were technically supposed to. Our driver takes the car on, you see, and we travel as foot passengers. One of the staff was kind enough to let us get on board and collect our cabin keys before it grew busy.”
“I see,” Fenella said thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you saw Robert Grosso or any of the others on the ship?”
Florence shook her head. “It’s all something of a mess, really,” she said.
“We’d rather not talk about it with the ferry captain,” Stanley said. “We don’t want the poor young woman who let us on early to lose her job. She was only trying to be nice.”
“I assume you’ve told the police,” Fenella said.
“Oh, no, we can’t do that,” Florence said. “They’ll tell Captain Howard and the poor girl will be let go for sure.”
Fenella wanted to argue, but she bit her tongue. The couple had empty glasses in their hands, and Fenella was pretty sure those hadn’t been their first drinks of the evening. It was unlikely that they would have shared that information with her if they’d been sober.
“So, how’s business?” Donald asked Stanley.
“Oh, you know, I just dabble a bit now to keep my hand in,” Stanley said. “I’ve been thinking about getting involved in that project that Peter Cannell has been working on, but I’m not sure.”
“That’s a beautiful dress,” Florence said as the two men began to discuss things that Fenella knew nothing about.
“Thank you,” Fenella replied.
“Where did you find it?” Florence asked.
“Oh, it’s something from back in the US,” Fenella found herself saying. “I brought a lot of clothes with me.”
“I’m sure,” Florence said. “What did you do in the US?”
“I was a professor of history at a university there,” Fenella replied.
“Really?” the other woman said. “I never would have suspected.”
“What do you do?” Fenella asked, wondering if the question was rude.
“Me? I look after Stanley. The children are grown, of course, and quite capable of looking after themselves, but Stanley enjoys me fussing over him.”
“I had a partner like that once,” Fenella said. “After a while, I got tired of looking after a grown adult.”
Florence shrugged. “I’ve been doing it for a great many years now,” she said. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
“Maybe you should go back to school,” Fe
nella suggested.
“I never really enjoyed school,” the woman told her. “It took up far too much of my time. My mother used to take me out for a day and we’d go across to Liverpool and shop.” She glanced around and then stepped closer to Fenella and lowered her voice.
“I was raised to be a rich man’s wife,” she said. “My mother came from a very poor background, but she managed to marry well above her station. She was determined that I’d find a wealthy man and never have to work.”
“And she got her wish,” Fenella said.
“Oh, taking care of Stanley is hard work, make no mistake about that,” Florence said. She smiled, presumably to make it seem like she was joking, but the smile looked bitter to Fenella.
“It’s never too late to start a new life for yourself,” Fenella said. “What would you do, if you could do anything?”
Florence blinked at her. “I’ve no idea,” she said after a minute. “No one ever asks me what I want to do. My mother managed my childhood and I married Stanley at eighteen.”
“But are you happy?” Fenella had to ask.
“Happy?” the other woman echoed, as if the word was unfamiliar to her.
“Florence, we need to go and speak to Michael,” Stanley said suddenly.
“Oh, but, I mean, I’m enjoying talking to Fenella,” Florence said.
“That’s nice, but I need to speak to Michael.” Stanley held out his hand and Florence took it.
She turned back to Fenella as they walked away. “It was nice seeing you,” she said quickly before Stanley pulled her into a large crowd.
“That poor woman,” Fenella said as the crowd swallowed up the Marches.
“Stanley isn’t that bad,” Donald said. “He spoils her, and as far as I know, he’s never looked at another woman. She could have done much worse.”
“But she isn’t happy,” Fenella argued.
“Isn’t she? I didn’t realize,” Donald said.
Fenella opened her mouth to explain, but sighed instead. “Maybe she is, in her own way,” she conceded. “Just because her life isn’t one that I would be comfortable with doesn’t make it bad.”
Boats and Bad Guys (An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Book 2) Page 21
