An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF

by Diana Xarissa

  “I didn’t know there was a food tent as well,” Fenella exclaimed.

  “They put it a short distance away to encourage people to use the food vendors and their trucks,” Shelly told her. “The younger crowd usually do that, but us older folks like the marquee where we can sit down and have more proper food.”

  “Let’s go,” Fenella said. Although she’d spent most of the morning sitting down watching the ceremony, she was ready to sit again.

  They were all pleased to find that the food tent was only about half full and the line at the counter was short. Having filled their trays with a variety of different items, they found an empty table near the open tent flap and sat down to enjoy their lunch.

  “We should try some of the vendors for dinner,” Shelly suggested.

  “After I eat all of this, I won’t want much dinner,” Fenella replied.

  “That makes the vendors the perfect choice,” Peter said. “You can just get a snack. There are plenty of choices.”

  “Fenella? This is a pleasant surprise,” a familiar voice said.

  “Paul, hello,” Fenella said, smiling at the man who was standing at her elbow. “I don’t know if you know Peter Cannell and Shelly Quirk,” she said. “This is Paul Clucas,” she added.

  “Of course I know Paul,” Peter replied. “We’ve worked together on a project or two over the years.”

  Paul smiled. “I’d like to do more of that,” he said. “Everything I’ve done with you has been hugely successful.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Shelly said.

  “It’s nice to meet you, as well,” Paul replied. He glanced at the opening to the tent. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m meeting my mother and Paulette. My mother is, well, not having a very good day.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Fenella said.

  “They’ll be here in a minute to get something to eat. Please don’t be offended if I try to keep my mother on the other side of the marquee,” he replied. “I’d rather not see her any more upset than she already is.”

  “Oh, no, you worry about her, not me,” Fenella told him. “I’m happy to pretend that I don’t know any of you.”

  Paul nodded. “I appreciate that,” he said. Some commotion behind him had him turning around. “And there they are,” he muttered. He glanced back at Fenella and then hurried away.

  “I told you I don’t want anything,” Phillipa Clucas shouted at her daughter. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Perhaps we should just go home,” Paulette said in a strained voice.

  “I want to watch the dancing,” Phillipa replied. “You said we could watch the dancing.”

  “Yes, Mum, of course,” Paulette said with a sigh.

  “Let’s get a table,” Paul suggested as he joined the others. “Maybe in the back.”

  He took his mother’s arm and began to lead her through the tent. Phillipa took a few steps and then stopped. “Peter, how are you?” she called across the small space. Before Paul could stop her, she turned and walked over to the table where Fenella and her friends were sitting.

  “I haven’t seen you in ages,” Phillipa complained as Peter stood up and gave her a hug. “And you were so kind at Paul’s funeral. If I’d known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been so upset.”

  “How are you?” Peter asked.

  “Simply devastated,” the woman replied. “I’ve only just discovered that Paul was unfaithful to me for nearly all of our married life.” She narrowed her eyes at the man. “Did you know about all of his other women?” she demanded.

  Peter patted her arm gently. “I was never privy to your husband’s secrets,” he said. “I don’t think he ever stopped thinking of me as a child, really.”

  Phillipa laughed. “Of course, if anyone knew what Paul was doing, it would have been your father, wouldn’t it?” She glanced around the room and then leaned in close to Peter. “Am I a bad person for being happy that someone is dead?” she asked in a low voice.

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” Peter replied, looking rather desperately at Paul and Paulette.

  “Mother, let’s get that table, shall we?” Paul asked in a cheery voice.

  “My husband had an affair with Anne Marie Smathers,” Phillipa said, her voice suddenly far too loud. Fenella felt as if everyone in the room had stopped talking suddenly.

  “I am sorry,” Peter said after an awkward moment.

  “She’s dead, you know, and not a moment too soon. I wanted her dead as soon as I found out. I want them all dead, all of the women who were unfaithful with my husband.” Phillipa was nearly shouting, and all around the tent, everyone was listening.

  “Mother, that’s quite enough,” Paul said. He took the woman’s arm and said something in her ear. She sighed and took a step backwards.

  “I have to go now,” she told Peter. “My son doesn’t understand the depth of my betrayal. He thinks I should just forget it ever happened.”

  “Come on, Mum,” Paulette said. “Paul is right. There’s no point in making yourself miserable over things that happened such a long time ago.”

  Phillipa took another step and then turned back and stared at Fenella for a moment. “I haven’t forgotten who you are,” she said softly.

  Fenella felt a chill run down her spine as the woman turned and walked away with her children.

  “That was creepy,” Shelly said. “She’s a scary old woman.”

  “She’s a sad woman,” Peter said softly. “I think she must be the last person on the island to learn about her husband’s infidelity. It seems to have come as something of a shock to her.”

  They finished their lunch as quickly as they could. The atmosphere in the tent was subdued as they left. “What’s next?” Fenella asked.

  “There’s still the marquee for the various organizations and also the arts and crafts area. And the entertainment will have started,” Shelly said.

  “So much to do,” Fenella smiled. “Let’s try that other marquee.” She gave herself a mental high five for using the British term as they went.

  They made their way to the other large tent, passing by the entertainment as they went. Fenella couldn’t help but stop to watch the dancers for a short while as they made their way through a complicated dancing pattern.

  “That was wonderful,” Shelly said, as the crowd clapped when they’d finished.

  “Like the language, Manx dance and music are experiencing a revival,” Peter said.

  “I’d love to try it,” Shelly said. “But I have two left feet.”

  “You should try it anyway,” Fenella told her.

  “I’ll take a beginners class if you will,” Shelly challenged her.

  Fenella laughed. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “But I think the language might be better. I’m not a very good dancer either.”

  The second tent was just as full as the first and the trio made their way around the space, chatting with volunteers and staff from children’s charities, historical societies, wildlife protection organizations, and many others. Fenella collected even more pamphlets, which she added to her bag. Peter was stopped repeatedly by business associates and old friends. After a while, Fenella gave up on remembering everyone’s names and simply smiled politely whenever Peter performed the necessary introductions.

  “Peter Cannell, you get more handsome every time I see you,” a woman’s voice was only just audible over the crowd noise.

  Fenella turned and smiled in anticipation of yet another introduction.

  “Margaret, you look wonderful,” Peter replied. He gave the woman a hug. “Fenella Woods and Shelly Quirk, meet Margaret Dolek,” he said. “I worked with her husband some years ago.”

  Margaret laughed. “When my husband was on the island, anyway,” she said. She shook hands with Shelly and then Fenella while Fenella tried to remember where she’d heard the woman’s name before. It had to have been something that Mona said, she decided.

  “My husband travelled a great deal,” M
argaret explained. “I think he spent more of our married life in London than on the island.”

  Of course, Fenella thought, this was the woman that Paul Clucas had begun flirting with after he’d ended things with Anne Marie, at least according to Mona. Mona had said that she didn’t think it ever turned into an actual affair, which Fenella could believe as she studied the sweet-looking woman in front of her. Margaret was tiny, with short white hair.

  “That must have been difficult for you,” Shelly said.

  “Oh, no, he was no fun at all. Life was considerably more enjoyable when he was away,” the woman said, her brown eyes sparkling as if she relished shocking the others.

  “Fenella is Mona’s niece,” Peter explained.

  “Really? You don’t look like her,” Margaret said. “But you must meet Hannah. She was just here a minute ago, and we were talking about Mona. Don’t move.”

  The woman walked away and then returned a moment later with another older woman in tow. “This is Hannah Jones,” she introduced the new arrival. “She and Mona and I were all friends in our younger days.”

  Fenella shook hands with Hannah, another kindly-looking woman. Her hair was an odd shade of reddish orange that Fenella could only assume must have come from a bottle.

  “Mona’s niece, huh?” she laughed. “You’re nothing like her, which is probably a good thing. I’m not sure the island is ready for another woman like Mona.”

  Margaret laughed. “She was one of a kind,” she agreed. “Even my husband, who had the sex drive of a ninety-year-old monk, was crazy about Mona. He’d have left me for her in a heartbeat if she’d ever so much as let him hold her hand.”

  Hannah nodded. “Men always fell all over themselves for that woman, and I never could work out why. She wasn’t even that attractive, but she had something special, something that made men crazy.”

  “I think you’re more like your aunt than you realize,” Peter said softly in Fenella’s ear. Fenella blushed, something she was sure that Mona never did.

  “No one else even came close when it came to attracting men,” Margaret said. “I was quite jealous of whatever magic she possessed.”

  “Anne Marie tried,” Hannah said.

  “Yes, but Anne Marie simply threw herself at every man she met and then went to bed with them. Mona didn’t have to sleep with a man to win his undying devotion. They were all crazy about her before they got anywhere near her,” Margaret said.

  “And men got tired of Anne Marie after a few weeks or months,” Hannah added. “My husband fell for Mona the night they met and he was still mad about her when he died. The only reason I didn’t mind was that I knew she’d never have touched him. He was simply enslaved from afar. Anne Marie, he slept with.”

  Margaret nodded. “Mine slept with Anne Marie, too, although I can’t imagine either of them got anything out of it. Still, once he’d taken her to bed a few times, he quickly got tired of her and he bought me a diamond bracelet to make it up to me.”

  “I feel as if I missed a rather exciting time,” Peter said.

  The women laughed. “It was an exciting time,” Hannah said after a moment. “We were all married off when we were far too young to know what we were doing and then thrown together at every social event on the island. It’s such a small island that we all saw each other far too frequently.”

  “It wasn’t nearly as exciting as it all sounds,” Margaret interjected. “Mostly, we all just flirted like mad and fantasized about running away with someone else’s husband. I think Anne Marie was the only one who actually followed through on the innuendos that we all threw around.”

  “And then there was Mona,” Hannah said. “She wasn’t married, although I’m sure she didn’t lack for offers. She was smart enough to remain single and let men spoil her, without having to deal with the tedious business of being a wife and mother. I was incredibly jealous of her, if I’m honest.”

  “She had the life we all wanted,” Margaret agreed. “And she had Max.”

  Hannah smiled a bit dreamily. “I would have left my husband for Max,” she said. “I probably would have murdered my husband for Max.”

  Margaret nodded. “He was perfect for Mona, of course. Gorgeous and sexy and brilliantly clever. I don’t think there was a woman on the island who would have turned Max down if he’d propositioned her.”

  “And yet he was faithful to Mona,” Hannah said. “Even when they weren’t speaking.”

  “And the fights,” Margaret said. “Do you remember the night Mona threw her engagement ring into the sea? That was the most spectacular fight I’ve ever seen.”

  “I never did know what they were fighting about,” Hannah replied.

  “No one ever knew what they were fighting about. I’m not sure they knew sometimes. I think they just liked to fight,” Margaret suggested.

  “My dear, we must have tea one day,” Margaret said to Fenella. “I could tell you stories about Mona for hours.”

  “I’d really like that,” Fenella replied.

  “You should invite me to your flat,” the woman suggested. “I’ve always wanted to see it. Max had it built for Mona, you know, after he decided to convert the hotel into flats.”

  “I’d heard that,” Fenella said. “And you’re more than welcome to come for tea any time.”

  The woman dug around in her handbag, eventually pulling out a small calendar. “How about tomorrow?” she asked after she’d opened the calendar to July.

  Fenella checked her phone, but it was mostly for show. She knew she wasn’t doing anything the next day. “Tomorrow sounds good,” she said. “I won’t promise anything elaborate, but I can make tea, at least. How about two o’clock?”

  “That works for me. Hannah, you should come too,” the other woman said.

  “I might,” Hannah replied. “If I can get away.” She made a face at Fenella. “I live next door to my son and his wife,” she explained. “And their two adorable little monsters. George is three and Anastasia is not quite one, and my darling son and daughter-in-law think that my job now should be providing as much free childminding as they can possibly take advantage of.” She shook her head. “I love my grandchildren, but I raised my own children many years ago. It isn’t my fault that my son didn’t decide to settle down until he was in his late forties. And that wife of his wouldn’t have been my choice, either.”

  Margaret patted her arm. “Tell your son that you’re going out at midday tomorrow. I’ll collect you and we’ll go and get some lunch and do some shopping before we meet Fenella. If he argues, tell him he’ll have to answer to me. I’m his godmother, after all, he ought to be afraid of me.”

  The two women walked away, still chatting about their plans for the next day. Shelly looked at Fenella and raised her eyebrows.

  “Are you sure you want to have them over for tea?” she asked.

  “I think they’ll be fun,” Fenella said, crossing her fingers for luck. “And I love hearing about Mona. I’m so sorry I never got to know her.”

  “Arts and crafts next?” Peter asked.

  The trio spent the next hour happily exploring the many different tables and small tents that were showcasing local artists and crafters. Fenella bought a few little things and took business cards from many of the stalls, promising to check websites and visit stores as soon as she could.

  “I want it all,” she told Shelly. “Did you see the paintings in the little blue tent? That man is so talented. I can just imagine one of his paintings on the wall in my bedroom.”

  “But you don’t want to buy it here today,” Shelly said. “You’d have to carry it around all afternoon and hold it during the fireworks.”

  “Exactly,” Fenella said.

  Donald finally caught up with them as they were sizing up the various food vendors at dinner time.

  “I’m so sorry,” he told Fenella. “I kept trying to get away, but everyone wanted a word, and then there was a fancy catered lunch that I didn’t know about.” He shook his hea
d. “I should have dragged you along with me for the day,” he told her. “You would have been bored, but it would have improved my day no end.”

  Fenella laughed. “Sorry, but I’ve been having a wonderful time,” she said. “I’ve found dozens of things I want to buy and I’ve collected half my body weight in brochures about the gorgeous foods and drinks that the island produces. It’s all been rather splendid.”

  “I should buy you something wonderful to apologize for my tardiness,” he replied.

  “You’ve nothing to apologize for,” Fenella said firmly. “I’ve been having fun with my friends. And we’re just friends, as well. You’re not obligated to spend your time with me.”

  Donald frowned. “I was rather hoping that we were working our way towards being something more than friends,” he said. When Fenella frowned, he waved a hand. “I’m sorry. I’m acting like I’m trying to start a fight. It’s only because I’m so annoyed with myself for getting roped into spending the day with people I don’t particularly like rather than with you.”

  He slid an arm around her and pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. “At least I can enjoy the fireworks with you,” he murmured in her ear.

  7

  Between them, the foursome got something from nearly every food vendor at the site. They found a bench that was just being vacated and everyone shared their snacks with everyone else.

  “I ate too much,” Fenella complained as she wiped her hands on a napkin.

  “And I was going to suggest ice cream,” Peter said.

  “The fireworks aren’t for hours yet,” Shelly pointed out. “I’m sure we’ll all have room for ice cream before it gets dark.”

  Feeling more than a little tired and very full, Fenella was happy to agree to find a quiet spot to watch some of the entertainment. Troupes of Manx dancers from the primary schools around the island were performing, and after a while, one group of school children made their way through the crowd, trying to find willing volunteers to join them for the next dance.