An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF

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An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF Page 49

by Diana Xarissa

“He isn’t going to take it well. He seems quite attracted to you.”

  “I wish I knew why. I can’t possibly be his type. He must have much younger and much more beautiful women throwing themselves at him all the time. I can’t imagine what he sees in me.”

  “You’re being too modest,” Shelly told her. “Maybe Donald has finally grown tired of spending his time with younger women. Maybe he’s finally looking for a proper adult with brains as well as beauty.”

  “Maybe, or maybe he’s just playing with me because he’s bored.”

  “Also a possibility,” Shelly admitted. “But with Daniel away, you may as well have some fun with Donald, anyway. Donald does take you to the nicest places.”

  “Yes, but, well, he simply isn’t right for me,” Fenella sighed. “Or maybe I’m just missing Daniel and remembering him as far more perfect than he actually is.”

  “Oh, he isn’t perfect,” Shelly laughed. “But he is gorgeous. He’s divorced, though, so there must be some things about him that aren’t so good.”

  “I think his job may have been a large factor in his divorce.”

  “It isn’t easy being married to a police inspector, I’m sure.”

  Fenella nodded. “It isn’t easy just dating one, especially when he gets sent away on a course for months on end.”

  “Are you staying in touch?”

  “I get the odd text, but I feel strange about texting him.”

  “Maybe he feels the same way. Maybe he’d like to text you every day but he feels weird about it. What you need now is to get caught up in another murder investigation. He’d be in touch quickly if that happened.”

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Fenella said. “The last thing I want to do is get caught up in any more murder investigations. Or any police investigations of any kind, for that matter.”

  Since Fenella had been on the island, she’d found more than her fair share of dead bodies and been tangled up in other cases as well. She didn’t want to talk to Daniel badly enough to want to go through all of that again.

  “I suppose you’re right. Murder investigations are never pleasant.”

  “No, they aren’t. But at least every time I’ve been mixed up in one, the case has been solved. I was watching a show about unsolved mysteries on television last night. That would be worse. The show gave me nightmares.”

  “You shouldn’t watch telly late at night,” Shelly suggested.

  “Yeah, I know, but I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m just worried about tonight, I think,” Fenella sighed. “Donald has been very patient with me, but I’m not ready to sleep with him. It will be easier to simply stop seeing him.”

  “Should we talk about what’s really bothering you?”

  Fenella frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “When is your driving test?”

  “Monday,” Fenella said softly. She’d been doing everything she could to forget that little fact. She’d driven in the US for over thirty years without a single accident or even so much as a parking ticket, but she’d had great trouble with driving on the island. Having never driven a stick shift before, learning that had been a difficult challenge. It hadn’t helped that she’d felt as if she were on the wrong side of the car on the wrong side of the road for the first few months of lessons.

  “Mel wouldn’t tell you take the test if he didn’t think you were ready,” Shelly said encouragingly.

  “Maybe he’s just tired of trying to teach me. Maybe he reckons that if I fail, I’ll give up.”

  “Will you?”

  “I’d be tempted to, that’s for sure.”

  “But then you’d never be able to drive Mona’s car.”

  Fenella sighed. Mona had left behind a gorgeous little red sports car. It was totally unlike anything Fenella had ever driven before, and she was surprised how badly she wanted to zip all over the island in it. “It’s the middle of August and it still isn’t warm enough to drive it with the top down,” she told Shelly after a moment.

  “Mona drove with the top down whenever it wasn’t raining. She never minded the temperature.”

  That news didn’t surprise Fenella. She’d learned a lot about her aunt since she’d been on the island. Mona had been glamorous, gorgeous, and irresistible to men. The car was part of her image, along with the designer clothes and expensive apartment.

  “First I have to pass the test, then maybe I’ll have a go at driving Mona’s car. Mel thinks I should take the test twice, anyway, and simply think of this first attempt as a practice run.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. If you assume you’re going to fail, you can relax more, right?”

  “In theory, but maybe not in practice,” Fenella muttered.

  Shelly leaned over and put an arm around Fenella’s shoulders. She squeezed briefly before dropping her arm. “It isn’t that bad, really. You’ll be fine. You can always just get an automatic license, anyway. That would be easier.”

  “I know, but then I wouldn’t be able to drive Mona’s car.” Drivers in the UK and the island could take their driving tests in cars with either a manual or automatic transmission. If you passed in an automatic car, though, you were only licensed to drive cars with automatic transmissions. Of course, Mona’s sexy red car had a manual transmission.

  “We’d just have to go car shopping, then.”

  “And I’d end up with something practical and boring, because I always do.”

  “Not if you took me with you. I’d talk you into something cute or sporty or whatever you wanted.”

  “What I want is something practical, really, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t love Mona’s car,” Fenella sighed. “I’ll probably drive it once or twice and then trade it in for something larger with more seats and more trunk space. But it would be nice, just for a few hours, to feel like the sort of woman who would own a totally impractical car.”

  “You already own it,” Shelly pointed out.

  “Yeah, but it isn’t doing me any good parked in the garage under our building.”

  “You could always have Mel give you a lesson or two in it, if you really want to drive it but don’t feel ready to take your test.”

  Fenella nodded, even though she didn’t agree. There was no way she could explain to Shelly how she felt about Mona’s car. There was also no way she wanted her first time behind its wheel to be with a driving instructor in the passenger seat. Mona’s car represented a completely different lifestyle to what Fenella had left behind in Buffalo, New York. While she was still settling into her new life on the island, Fenella was pretty sure she was still just as boring and unadventurous as she’d always been. Mona’s car was the exact opposite of boring.

  They were nearly back at their apartment building. A huge truck was parked in front of the building.

  “Right-Start Movers,” Shelly read off the back of the truck. “I’ve never heard of them. They must be from across.”

  Island residents referred to the UK as “across,” a term that Fenella had already started using herself. “Whoever it is, they seem to have a lot of stuff.”

  “Yes, and they aren’t meant to be parked there, either. Residents and moving companies are meant to use the back entrance for moving in and out of the building.”

  As she and Shelly crossed the road, Fenella glanced curiously into the truck through the large open door. Neatly stacked boxes lined the walls, and furniture, all of it carefully wrapped in blankets, filled every available inch of the space. Two men were standing near the door. They were both busy on their mobile phones.

  “You know you aren’t meant to park that here,” Shelly said to one of them. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I just wanted to warn you.”

  “Yeah, we’ve been warned six times now,” one of the men snarled at her. “Not our problem. We turned up where we were told to be. We can move if we have to, but it’ll cost more.”

  Shelly shrugged. “Good luck.”
r />   “Gentlemen, I’m afraid we do have a problem,” a cultured voice said.

  Fenella and Shelly watched as a tall grey-haired man stepped off the curb toward the men. At first glance he appeared to be around forty, but as he got closer to Fenella, she added first ten and then twenty years to her earlier estimate. The unnatural smoothness of his face suggested that he’d had some sort of work done, but his hair was completely grey, which seemed at odds with altered face somehow. Fenella had always purchased suits for her former boyfriend, so she knew quality when she saw it. The dark grey suit the man was wearing had been tailor-made for him, and Fenella suspected that even Donald Donaldson would have agreed that the fabric and workmanship were excellent.

  “We have to move,” one of the men guessed.

  “I’m afraid so. Apparently there is a rear entrance. We are not permitted to park on the street here,” the grey-haired man replied.

  “It’ll cost extra, but we’ll move,” the moving man replied.

  “I’m not worried about a bit of extra expense, not at this point,” the grey-haired man told him. “You should go and talk to the building manager and make certain you know where you’re going, though. I’ll not pay for you to drive my things all over the island.”

  The moving man shrugged and then climbed out of the back of the truck and walked into the building. Shelly and Fenella followed. Neither spoke until they were on the elevator.

  “Well, that was interesting,” Shelly said. “It appears we’re getting new neighbors.”

  “There was something odd about that man,” Fenella replied.

  “I believe he’s had too much cosmetic work done, but his suit was fabulous.”

  “I can’t argue with that. I wonder which apartment he’s purchased.”

  “It can only be one of two,” Shelly told her. “The couple in 406 decided to move down south a few months ago. I hadn’t heard that they’d sold their flat yet, but that’s one possibility. The other possibility is 312. My friend who owned that one passed away, but I was told that his son was going to be moving in there.”

  “Maybe that’s the son,” Fenella suggested.

  “I suppose that’s possible. I thought his son lived on the island, though. That man was clearly from across.”

  “Just because the truck was from across?”

  “That’s part of it, but he also just seemed, well, not from here.”

  The elevator doors pinged as they opened on the sixth floor. Fenella was looking at Shelly as she stepped forward, right into the man who was waiting for the elevator.

  “My goodness, I am sorry,” she said quickly.

  “It’s quite all right,” Peter Cannell laughed, his blue eyes twinkling as he slid his arms around Fenella. “I’ll just assume you wanted a hug.”

  Fenella hugged him back and then stepped away from him, feeling slightly awkward. She’d had a series of long-term relationships when she’d lived in New York, but now that she was on the island, she’d found herself dating three different men at the same time. The entire situation felt oddly uncomfortable to her, even though none of the men involved seemed to mind. Peter, her next-door neighbor, was one of the men.

  “You look especially handsome today,” Shelly told Peter, whose salt and pepper hair looked as if it had just been cut.

  “Why, thank you,” he said, giving Shelly a hug as well. “I’m having lunch with my former wife and I thought I should make an effort.”

  “Which former wife?” Shelly asked.

  Peter flushed. “My first wife,” he said. “I don’t have any contact with my second wife. We’re both happier that way.”

  “It’s nice that you and your first wife are still friends,” Fenella said.

  “Well, I’m not sure that I’d put it quite that way, but I’m trying,” Peter told her. “I treated the poor woman quite badly, really. I’m still trying to make it up to her.”

  As Peter boarded the elevator, Fenella and Shelly walked down the corridor to their apartments. “Do you want me to come over and help you find something to wear tonight?” Shelly asked at Fenella’s door.

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  “I’ll just give Smokey her lunch and I’ll be over.”

  “I’ll make us some lunch, shall I?” Fenella offered.

  “Don’t go to any trouble.”

  “I have a frozen pizza I could do with some garlic bread,” Fenella suggested. “I want to make sure I eat something fairly substantial in case I don’t like anything at the party tonight.”

  “That’s probably wise. Charity events can have wonderful food or completely inedible food, depending on the budget.”

  “As Donald is going, I suspect the budget for the event is substantial, only because they’ll be expecting the guests to donate generously, but the last time I went to one of these things they only had the food out for about twenty minutes before the auction started. I want to make sure I’m not going to be starving all night, at the very least.”

  “That’s probably for the best,” Shelly laughed. She let herself into her apartment, leaving Fenella to open her own door.

  “Hello, darling,” she said to Katie, the tiny kitten who had adopted her right after her arrival on the island.

  “Meerow,” Katie replied. She rubbed against Fenella’s legs and then let Fenella pet her for a moment before dashing into the kitchen. Before Fenella had even slipped off her shoes, Katie began to shout loudly.

  “I know, I know. It’s time for your lunch. Shelly and I were having a nice walk and I didn’t want to rush back,” Fenella explained. “And we saw Harvey with Winston and Fiona, as well.”

  “How are those lovely animals?” a cool voice asked from behind Fenella’s back.

  She spun around and smiled at the woman in the doorway. “They’re fine,” she replied. For a brief moment Fenella wondered if she’d completely lost her mind. The woman she was talking to was either a figment of her imagination or the ghost of her dead Aunt Mona. She wasn’t sure which explanation was crazier, really.

  “I quite miss having them around,” Mona said. “You should offer to have them for a few days again. The flat felt warmer with dogs in residence.”

  “Meeroooww,” Katie said in an injured tone.

  “Don’t argue, you two,” Fenella said. She opened a can of food for Katie and refilled her water bowl as well, before switching on the oven for the pizza.

  “Where is Donald taking you tonight?” Mona asked.

  “Another charity fundraiser, where else?” Fenella sighed.

  “If you want him to take you to more interesting places, you’ll have to start being more interesting,” Mona suggested.

  “You mean I should sleep with him,” Fenella said flatly.

  “I’m sure he’d take you to Paris for a weekend if he thought you’d do so.”

  “I don’t want to go to Paris for a weekend.”

  “Really?”

  Fenella sighed again. “No, not really. I’d love to go to Paris for a weekend, but I don’t want to go with Donald. I’m not ready to sleep with anyone other than Katie. I was with Jack for too long.”

  “That was true after your first date,” Mona told her.

  “Yes, I know, but that doesn’t change anything.”

  Fenella had spent ten long years with Jack Dawson. He’d been a history professor at the same university that she’d first attended and then taught at herself. It had never been a great romance, but it had been comfortable, and there were times when Fenella missed the man who’d known her well. Mostly, though, she was grateful that her move to the island had given her the push she’d needed to end the relationship that was going nowhere. They’d been more like brother and sister than lovers, especially in the past few years, and Fenella was terrified of the idea of being intimate with anyone again.

  “You could simply go to Paris by yourself,” Mona suggested. “Maybe you’d meet a wonderful Frenchman.”

  “I don’t want to meet anyone else. I’m quite happy
on my own.”

  “Waiting impatiently for Daniel to get back.”

  “I’m not waiting for him,” Fenella snapped. “I don’t even miss him, not really.”

  “You shouldn’t lie to your Aunt Mona. It isn’t nice.”

  Fenella shook her head. “Daniel may have met another woman on his course or at the grocery store or anywhere. I like him a lot, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to end up together.”

  Mona looked as if she wanted to argue, but she pressed her lips together and then smiled. “Let’s talk about more important things. How do I look?”

  “The same as ever, really. Young, beautiful, slightly transparent.”

  Mona nodded. “I was considering aging a little bit more. My thirties were incredibly wonderful. I thought maybe I should try being thirty-five again.”

  “If that will make you happy, why not?”

  “I thought it might discourage a certain young ghost who’s become rather too attached to me, as well,” Mona said.

  “Really?”

  “The poor young man crashed his car on the promenade right outside of the building,” Mona explained. “He mostly spends his time wandering around the lobby, watching everyone as they come in and out, but he’s rather too attentive to me at the moment. Max is quite annoyed.”

  Fenella nodded. Mona loved to tease her about life in the afterworld. What she was saying now might be true or it might just be Mona making things up. “You don’t want to upset Max,” she suggested.

  Mona nodded. “That’s very true. I owe Max so very much.”

  Maxwell Martin had owned the luxury hotel that had become the apartment building where Fenella lived. As Fenella understood it, Mona had been involved with Max for many years. Initially, she’d occupied a room in the hotel, but when the building had been converted into apartments, Max had given Mona the largest and most luxurious one in the building. Mona had said before that she and Max were able to spend time together again now that they were both dead, but again, Fenella wasn’t sure if she was telling the truth or not.

  “I suppose I must go and see what I can do,” Mona sighed. “Wear the blue dress tonight, the one with the dark blue skirt and the lighter blue top. It will be perfect with Donald’s tie.”

 

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