“How odd.”
“I don’t really know much about computers,” Paulette told her. “Even my mother is better with them than I am. Paul is the real expert and he did everything he could to find the files that Mum said were there. You can imagine that my mother was terribly upset when we told her that she’d imagined the whole thing.”
“Yes, I’m sure that would be upsetting.”
“She’s hugely embarrassed that she said such horrible things to you at the charity auction and on Tynwald Day. I, well, I’m sorry, but I told her that she dreamed that as well. I couldn’t stand seeing her so upset.”
“That’s fine,” Fenella said quickly. “I would probably have done the same in your shoes.”
“Thank you for being so understanding. I can’t tell you how difficult this has been. I’ve always loved my father dearly. I was devastated when my mother told me what she’d seen, and furious with my father. To learn now that it wasn’t true, that my father didn’t cheat on my mother, well, that’s been almost as difficult. My emotions are all over the place.”
“Where is your mother today?”
“We have a woman who comes over twice a week to sit with her for a few hours so that I can have a break,” Paulette told her. “I usually stay close to home, but Paul persuaded me to come out here for lunch today. This used to be one of our favorite places when we were small children.”
“The food is excellent,” Fenella told her.
Paulette smiled. “It didn’t used to be. It used to be quite ordinary, but the puddings were wonderful. Obviously, as a small child, that was much more important.”
“It’s much more important to me even now,” Fenella laughed.
“You should have come along, Paulette,” Paul said as he rejoined them. “Her house looks exactly the same as I remember it. I don’t think she’s changed a thing in the last thirty years.”
“She probably can’t afford to,” Paulette suggested.
“Maybe, or maybe she just likes it the way it is,” Paul said with a shrug. “Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s get lunch. I do have to get back to work, as well.”
“You wanted to talk to me about something?” Fenella asked.
“Oh, I just wanted to double-check that we’re still good for tomorrow night,” the man said. “I was going to ring you later today.”
“We’re still good,” Fenella confirmed. “I’m looking forward to it.”
“Me, too,” Paul said. He smiled brightly at her and then turned to his sister. “But for now, lunch?”
“Yes, let’s,” Paulette said. “Thank you for being so understanding,” she told Fenella. “Again, I am sorry.”
“Please don’t apologize anymore,” Fenella said firmly. “Your mother is lucky to have you looking after her.”
“Yes, well, we’re trying to find something else to help her sleep,” Paulette said. “It’s unfortunate, because the tablets she was taking were very effective.”
Fenella watched as the siblings walked into the café. It was only then that she remembered that she needed a taxi to get home. All those years of driving herself everywhere she wanted to go had obviously spoiled her. She dug her mobile phone out of the bottom of her bag and rang the taxi service she had at the top of her contacts list. They had a car there only a few minutes later.
“Promenade View Apartments,” she told the driver.
“Those are meant to be really nice,” the man said. “My daughter and son-in-law were looking at flats a while back, and they looked at one in that building. It was tiny and very expensive, but it did have wonderful views.”
“Yes, the views are amazing,” Fenella agreed.
She sat back in her seat and listened as the man complained about property prices on the island. When she didn’t argue back, he switched to local politics, a subject that Fenella knew very little about.
“They’re all criminals, really,” he concluded as he pulled up in front of her building. “That’s why they’ve built such a fancy new prison, you know. They all reckon they’re going to end up in there at some point.”
Fenella bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing as she paid the man. No matter how nice the prison in Jurby was, she didn’t think any of the island’s politicians would be happy to spend time there.
Mona was pacing around the apartment when Fenella let herself in.
“Was Hannah there? Was she okay?” she demanded as soon as Fenella shut the door behind herself.
“She was there and she was fine,” Fenella said. “And on my way out, I bumped into Paulette.”
“How did she look? Did she look like a murderer?”
“She looked perfectly normal. And she apologized for her mother’s behavior again. It seems that the notes that Phillipa found don’t actually exist.”
Mona narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Paulette told me that her mother has been taking some strong sleeping pills that cause her to have nightmares. Apparently, she only dreamt that she’d found her husband’s notes on the computer.”
“I don’t believe it,” Mona said flatly.
“Why not?”
“It’s too convenient. Paulette is trying to hide the fact that she and her mother have motives for murdering Anne Marie and Margaret.”
“If she were planning to murder all of the women named in the memoirs, why would she tell me about it in the first place?” Fenella demanded. “Anne Marie died on Sunday morning, and I didn’t have tea with Paulette until that afternoon. Surely if she’d already started killing people, she wouldn’t have told me about the notes.”
Mona frowned. “It’s odd, but maybe she didn’t realize the significance of what she told you until later.”
Fenella shook her head. “The police are happy that both deaths were accidents. Maybe they really were.”
“Maybe Phillipa is the murderer,” Mona said. “But Paulette didn’t know she’d done it until after your brunch. Now she’s trying to protect her mother.”
“I got the impression that Phillipa needs more looking after than that. They have a woman who comes and sits with her twice a week so that Paulette can get away for a short while.”
“So, maybe it’s Paul who is behind the deaths,” Mona said. “He wouldn’t even need to read any notes. I’m sure he has a pretty good idea of which women his father was involved with over the years.”
“I thought you said that Margaret didn’t really have an affair with the man?” Fenella asked.
“But Paul might think she did. They did spend a lot of time together after he and Anne Marie stopped seeing each other,” Mona argued.
“I’m going to work on my book,” Fenella told her. “Maybe, just maybe, you’re overreacting to a couple of accidents.”
“If the killer comes after you, don’t complain to me,” Mona said.
“Why would he or she come after me? I didn’t have an affair with Paul Clucas.”
“Guilt by association. You said Phillipa thinks I slept with the man.”
“I have work to do,” Fenella said firmly. Mona had always loved a good murder mystery, a passion she shared with Fenella. It seemed now, though, that perhaps the woman had read one too many books on the subject. If the police were sure the deaths were both accidents, Fenella wasn’t going to argue with them.
She spent a few hours taking notes on Anne’s years living in France. When she got bored with the process, she sat back and closed her eyes. It was hard to imagine what Anne’s life would have been like, living in France as an attendant to a French queen. She must have missed her family, and England as well. There was frustratingly little known about Anne’s childhood and teenaged years. Shaping the little information that she had into the beginnings of her book was going to be a huge challenge.
“Merrow,” Katie interrupted her.
“Is that the time?” Fenella exclaimed as she glanced at the clock. “You’re right. It’s time for dinner.”
After filling Katie’s food and water b
owls, Fenella opened her refrigerator and studied the contents. Nothing tempting, she thought as she tried the freezer. A frozen pizza was the only thing that appealed to her.
“That’s far too much for one person to eat,” Mona remarked as she settled in at the kitchen counter.
“But it’s what sounds good,” Fenella replied. “I won’t eat it all. I’ll save half for tomorrow or something.”
She unwrapped the pizza and added a generous handful of shredded cheese to the top of it. While the oven was preheating, she poured herself a small glass of wine.
“And don’t tell me that drinking alone is a bad sign,” she told Mona after her first sip. “It’s only one glass of wine.”
“I wasn’t going to say a word,” Mona protested. “I used to have a glass of wine every evening, sometimes two. I wasn’t often alone, but when I was, I didn’t worry about it.”
Fenella took another sip and then almost dropped the glass when the phone startled her.
“It’s Shelly. I was meant to be having dinner with Gordon, but something has come up with work and he can’t make it. Would you like to go out somewhere?”
“I just unwrapped a frozen pizza,” Fenella told her. “But you’re more than welcome to share it with me. It’s just cheese, although I’ve added some extra. I have some garlic bread that I can throw in with it, as well.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind,” Fenella said. “Come on over.”
A moment later, Shelly was at the door. “Thank you,” she said as she followed Fenella into the kitchen. “I really didn’t feel like cooking tonight.”
“Neither did I. That’s why were having frozen pizza,” Fenella told her.
She slid the pizza and a frozen loaf of garlic bread into the oven and then poured Shelly a glass of wine.
“I think it’s a good night to head to the pub after dinner,” Shelly said.
“That sounds good to me,” Fenella agreed.
“I do miss the Tale and Tail,” Mona sighed.
“I hope everything is okay with Gordon’s work,” Fenella told her friend.
“I don’t know,” Shelly said unhappily. “I mean, I don’t even know if it really is work. I’m starting to feel as if Gordon is trying to avoid me.”
“What happened?” Fenella and Mona asked at the same time.
“Nothing, at least nothing that I know of,” Shelly sighed. “We had a nice walk on the promenade the other night, but then when he walked me home he seemed, I don’t know, odd.”
“Odd how?”
Shelly shook her head. “I don’t know. Odd. I kept thinking about what you said about trying to kiss him. I was actually thinking I might try it when we got to my door, but I didn’t get the chance. He actually only walked part of the way down the corridor and sort of just waved to me before dashing back to the lift and jumping on.”
“Oh, dear,” Fenella said.
“He’s afraid he’s falling in love,” Mona said. “Men are so stupid sometimes.”
“Anyway, I haven’t seen him since. We were going to have lunch together yesterday, but he had to cancel because a meeting ran late. Then we were going to have dinner tonight, but he cancelled again. I don’t know, maybe I’m reading too much into all of this, but I feel as if he’s avoiding me.”
“Maybe he’s afraid he’s falling for you,” Fenella suggested.
“Or maybe he’s afraid that I’m falling for him and he isn’t interested,” Shelly said sullenly.
“Maybe he’s just really busy with work,” Fenella said.
“He might be,” Shelly said with a shrug. “I know he’s working on two different projects at the moment and they’re both keeping him busy, but I can’t help but worry. I really like him, and if he just wants to be friends, I’m okay with that. I don’t want to drive him away if he isn’t looking for anything more serious.”
“Do you have plans to see him again?” was Fenella’s next question.
“He said something about trying again tomorrow, but we didn’t make firm plans, in case he’s busy again.”
“I’m meant to be having dinner with Paul Clucas tomorrow, and then with Donald on Saturday.”
“Aren’t you popular,” Shelly laughed. “What’s Paul like? Is this going to be a great romance or just a one-off dinner?”
“I suspect it’s much more likely to be a single date,” Fenella replied. “He seems very nice, but I don’t know that he’s my type.”
“You can do much better,” Mona interjected.
The oven timer buzzed and Fenella dragged the pizza out onto a large platter. About the only thing Mona’s gourmet kitchen had been missing when Fenella moved in was a pizza cutter. Now Fenella dug the one she’d recently purchased out of the drawer and sliced the pizza. While she worked, Shelly pulled the garlic bread out of the oven and chopped it into pieces.
“This isn’t bad,” Shelly said after a few minutes. “It’s better than I was expecting.”
“I added some extra cheese,” Fenella told her. “But I think it would have been pretty good anyway.”
The pair chatted about television and movies while they ate. Mona sat and listened, but it seemed to Fenella that her mind was elsewhere. With the dishes in the dishwasher and the kitchen tidied up, it was time for the pub.
“Let me pop back and feed Smokey,” Shelly said. “She likes her meals on time.”
“Don’t we all?” Fenella laughed. She gave Katie a few extra treats and some fresh water, and then headed into the bathroom to touch up her makeup.
“Put on something nicer,” Mona suggested from the doorway. “A skirt would be good, but even trousers are better than jeans.”
“Jeans are comfortable,” Fenella argued. “We’re only going for one drink, and it’s a Thursday night. No one will be there.”
“You don’t know that,” Mona countered. “I know you haven’t ever gone through everything in my wardrobe, but if you ever do, you won’t find a single pair of jeans in there. I never wore them.”
“I’d feel silly getting all dressed up to go the pub,” Fenella told her. “Everyone else in the place will be wearing jeans.”
“Shelly won’t. You’ve never seen her in jeans, have you?”
“Not really, although she did wear denim trousers to Tynwald Day. They were zebra print, though, so they didn’t look like jeans,” Fenella replied. She looked over at her aunt and sighed. “I won’t wear fancy trousers for a quick pub visit, but I will put on something nicer on top. How’s that?”
“If that’s the best I can get, it will do,” Mona replied. “Try the right side of my wardrobe. There are some lovely shirts there, including a blue one that should bring out the blue in your eyes.”
Fenella quickly found the top in question and pulled it on. It was incredibly soft, and Mona was right. The color did make her eyes look bluer. “What do you think?” she asked, twirling slowly in front of the mirror.
“It suits you,” Mona said. “It would look better with the grey trousers in the drawer underneath the shirts, but it works with jeans as well.”
“It looks great with jeans,” Fenella said firmly. Shelly knocked before Mona could argue any further. As she locked up her apartment behind her, Fenella couldn’t help but think about Shelly’s outfit. The other woman had changed as well, into a pair of bright pink trousers and a white top. The top was covered in large irregularly shaped spots in neon colors, including a few spots that matched the trousers. Her shoes were neon green.
“Do you ever wear jeans?” Fenella asked as they walked onto the elevator.
“Not really,” Shelly said. “Aside from the zebra print ones, I’ve only had a pair or two over the years, but I couldn’t wear them for work and my husband didn’t really like them. He preferred me in skirts or dresses, and I was always happy to oblige him. It was only a small thing and it made him happy.”
The pub was busier than Fenella had been expecting for a Thursday night. “Why is it s
o busy tonight?” she asked Shelly as they waited in line to get drinks.
“I’ve no idea,” Shelly replied. “You can never tell with this place. I understood when it got busy after the local paper ran that article, but I don’t know what’s going on tonight.”
They finally got their drinks and made their way up the stairs. Clusters of people seemed to be everywhere, but Shelly finally spotted a table that had a few empty chairs around it.
“We’ll have to invite ourselves to join that couple,” she told Fenella. “I hope they don’t mind.”
The couple in question seemed to be having a very intense conversation. “I’m sorry, but do you mind if we sit here?” Shelly asked, when they reached them.
The man and woman stared at Shelly for a minute before the woman sighed deeply. “I suppose not,” she said, clearly reluctantly.
“Thanks,” Shelly said, sliding into a chair.
Fenella sat down opposite her, trying to remember where she’d seen the woman before. The couple went back to their conversation after little more than glancing at Fenella.
“Isn’t this nice?” Shelly said quietly.
“That’s one word for it,” Fenella whispered back.
Shelly laughed. “Maybe they’ll decide to get a room,” she said, tilting her head toward the couple who had slid their chairs closer together.
“It doesn’t seem like that sort of conversation,” Fenella replied. She couldn’t make out any words, but it felt to her as if the pair were arguing.
Unusually for the Tale and Tail, there weren’t any books within easy reach of where the women were sitting. Fenella felt disappointed as she sat back in her chair. One of the things she liked best about the place was the chance to pull out random books and flip through them whenever conversation lagged. As it was busy and noisy, conversation with Shelly seemed like far too much work. A book to look through was exactly what she needed.
“You’re Donald’s friend, aren’t you?” the woman sitting next to her suddenly demanded.
Fenella looked over at her. “Melanie Anderson-Stuart,” she exclaimed. “I knew you looked familiar, but I couldn’t place you.”
An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF Page 40
