An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - ABC

by Diana Xarissa

  “I should take you to Paris,” he replied. “And Rome, and, well, everywhere I suppose.”

  Fenella smiled. “Once I get settled in here, I plan to travel,” she said. “But for now, there are a lot of things to see here on the island.”

  “There certainly are,” the man who worked at the castle said. “Here, let me give you a brochure. This summarizes the main heritage sites on the island. I think you’ll find it a fascinating collection.”

  Fenella took the brochure and glanced through it. “I shall have to start planning outings,” she mused, mostly to herself.

  “For now, your tour of Castle Rushen starts with a short video,” the man said. “It gives you a brief history of the site, although you’ve probably just read everything you need to know.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to miss the video,” Fenella said.

  “Of course not,” Donald murmured.

  The man opened the door to a small room with a few rows of benches. There was a large television on a stand at the front of the room. Once Fenella and Donald had taken seats, he shut the door. A moment later the lights went out and the video began to play. Fenella watched, fascinated as the castle’s history came to life on the screen. When the video finished, she jumped up, eager to see the rest of the castle. A door opened on the wall opposite to where they’d come in and Fenella headed through it, leaving Donald to follow.

  Two hours later she felt thoroughly steeped in the history of the beautiful castle. She’d read every informational panel that she’d seen as she and Donald had made their way around the site. The panels showed what each room was used for over the centuries.

  “Imagine having this as a prison cell,” she said to Donald as they stood in one small room. “It must have been very cold, dark and damp most of the time.”

  “Indeed,” Donald agreed. “Things are much more comfortable now in Jurby.”

  “What’s in Jurby?” Fenella asked.

  “They built a new prison there a few years ago,” Donald explained. “People seem to think it’s quite luxurious, and I suppose, compared to this, it is.”

  Fenella enjoyed seeing the banquet room with its elaborate display of a medieval banquet. “I can’t imagine eating all of this food,” she said.

  “It might be fun to try,” Donald laughed.

  As they finished the tour in the medieval kitchens, Fenella shook her head. “They had to make all of that food in here?” she asked. “Those poor servants.”

  “It wasn’t a good time to be poor,” Donald agreed.

  “There’s never a good time to be poor,” Fenella said.

  Donald nodded. “I won’t argue with that.”

  “Did you enjoy the tour?” the man who’d welcomed them asked.

  “Oh, yes, but I’d love to do it all again,” Fenella said.

  “You’re more than welcome to do so,” he said. “There’s no one else here today, so you can walk through a second time if you’d like.”

  Fenella hesitated, looking at Donald.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to go back around, but you’re welcome to do so. I’ll happily wait for you in the gift shop.”

  Her instinct was to refuse so as not to inconvenience Donald, but then a voice in her head reminded her that she was just as important as Donald and if she wanted to see the castle again, she ought to take advantage of the opportunity.

  “I’ll go quickly,” she told him. “And I won’t read the signs.”

  He laughed. “I’ll be in the gift shop,” he told her.

  Fenella did her best to hurry, but she kept finding herself dawdling in front of the different displays, fascinated by the building that was, by American standards, incredibly old. When she finally reached the gift shop, she realized she was hungry.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been a long time haven’t I?” she asked Donald when she found him in front of a display of jewelry.

  “Not too long,” he said with a smile. “I’ve only bought you one little thing.”

  “It’s not nice to tease me,” she said.

  He grinned and then turned to the young woman behind the counter. “Thank you,” he said as she handed him a small shopping bag.

  Donald offered Fenella his arm. “Time for some lunch, I think,” he said.

  “I’m starving,” Fenella admitted.

  They walked out of the building. Fenella stopped to pat one of the stone walls before she walked away.

  “You really love that old pile of rocks, don’t you?” Donald asked.

  “I love the history that’s captured inside them,” she said, trying to explain. “I love knowing that real people lived and breathed inside those walls for hundreds of years before you and I were even born.”

  Donald nodded. “You’ll like this pub, then,” he told her. “It’s been a pub since 1708.”

  The building he took her to was right across the street. Fenella slid into the booth Donald selected and sighed. “I didn’t realize how tired my feet were,” she said as she stretched her legs out in front of her.

  Donald sat down across from her. “I knew exactly how tired my feet were,” he told her.

  “I am sorry,” Fenella said. “We should have left after the first time around the castle.”

  “Did you enjoy the second trip around?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes,” Fenella said.

  “Then it was worth the short wait,” Donald said firmly.

  They ate fish and chips, drank soda and chatted about the weather and the castle they’d just toured. Fenella still felt somewhat nervous around the man, but she found herself relaxing as the meal wore on.

  “Pudding,” Donald said after the waitress had cleared their plates. “Jam roly poly, sticky toffee pudding or chocolate gateau?”

  “Oh, chocolate anything,” Fenella laughed.

  After dessert, Fenella sat back and sighed. “I ate too much,” she said.

  “But it was good,” Donald said.

  “It was, but now I feel as if I must walk for hours to make up for it.”

  “We can walk for a while, anyway,” Donald said. “I’ll show you the rest of Castletown if you’d like.”

  “That sounds good,” Fenella was quick to agree.

  They walked away from the castle, through the small center of the town. Fenella found herself window-shopping in the various shops as they went along.

  “We can go in any of them if you’d like,” Donald offered.

  “Oh, no, it’s just fun to see what they have in the windows,” Fenella said. “I don’t need anything at the moment.”

  “Maybe you’ll see something you don’t need, but you’d like anyway,” Donald said.

  Fenella laughed. “I’m trying to be frugal with my funds until I get more settled in,” she told him. “I must learn to live within my means, after all.”

  As Fenella stopped in front of yet another shop, a light rain began to fall.

  “Oh, dear,” she gasped. “Maybe we’d better get back to the car.”

  “It’s only a light rain,” Donald said.

  A moment later the skies seemed to open and a heavy downpour began. Fenella looked at Donald and they both laughed.

  “We could run,” Fenella suggested.

  “Or we could hide in the nearest shop,” Donald said.

  He grabbed her hand and dragged her into the small shop that was closest. Fenella looked around at the shelves of plates and dishes, bookshelves full of books and tubs full of children’s toys.

  “What sort of store is this?” she whispered, smiling at the elderly woman who was standing behind the cash register.

  “It’s a charity shop,” he explained. “People donate things they don’t need anymore and the charity sells them to raise funds.”

  “And they have books,” Fenella said with a smile.

  She walked over to the bookcase and spent several minutes inspecting the titles on offer. In the end, she only found two books she thought she might like, but at fifty pence each, she was
happy to give them a try.

  “That’s a pound, love,” the woman told her.

  Fenella dug around in her handbag for the coins she knew were in there. As she pulled out several, she frowned, hoping she could remember the values of the different coins without having to actually look at them. Luckily for her, there was a pound coin in the mix and she recognized it immediately.

  “I think the rain has stopped, or at least slowed down,” Donald told her as Fenella tucked her books into her handbag. “Should we try to get back to the car?”

  “Sure,” Fenella agreed easily.

  It was still drizzling lightly, but they made it back to the car without getting too wet.

  “I’m rather damp,” Fenella said when they reached the car. “I’m afraid to sit in your gorgeous car.”

  Donald laughed and opened her door for her. “In you go,” he said. “You won’t hurt anything.”

  Fenella slid into the seat and buckled her seatbelt. Donald climbed behind the wheel. Before he could start the engine, something buzzed somewhere.

  “What was that?” Fenella asked.

  “My mobile,” he said, frowning. He pulled the device out of his pocket and frowned even more as he read the message he’d received. After a moment he typed out a reply.

  “I had hoped to take you around Rushen Abbey this afternoon,” he said as he started the car’s engine. “But it’s nearly all outdoors and this really isn’t the weather for it.”

  “No, I think you’re right about that,” Fenella agreed as the rain began to get heavy again.

  “And I had planned to buy you dinner somewhere nice, but something has just come up that I can’t get out of. I do hope you’ll let me make it up to you one day soon.”

  “Of course,” Fenella replied, feeling both disappointed and relieved at the same time.

  “If you don’t mind, then, I think I’ll run you home now,” he said.

  “No, that’s fine. I do hope nothing is wrong.”

  “No, not really, just something unexpected, that’s all.”

  Fenella looked out her window at the rain, enjoying the beautiful countryside in spite of it. Donald was silent as he drove, and Fenella couldn’t really think of anything to say. Eventually they pulled up in front of her building. Donald parked on the promenade and climbed out of the car, quickly opening Fenella’s door for her.

  As they approached Fenella’s apartment, she remembered Katie and quickened her pace. Donald laughed.

  “I hope you’re just eager to see your kitten, and not desperate to get away from me,” he said.

  “I just haven’t left her alone for this long before,” Fenella explained. “I hope she’s been good.”

  She unlocked her door and walked into the apartment. Katie looked up from her spot on the comfortable chair and blinked before closing her eyes and putting her head back down.

  Fenella laughed. “I wasn’t missed,” she said.

  “I’ll miss you later,” Donald said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Things come up,” Fenella said. “It’s fine, really.”

  “Yes, well, I will make it up to you,” he replied. “And in the meantime, this really is for you.”

  He handed her the bag from the castle’s gift shop. Fenella opened her mouth to protest, but he put a finger against her lips.

  “It’s just a little something,” he said. “I hope you like it.”

  He turned and walked to the door before Fenella could reply. As he pulled the door open, he smiled at her. “I’ll ring you,” he said before he walked out.

  Fenella stared at the door as it swung shut. “Yeah, you do that,” she muttered.

  10

  “What did he get you, then?” Mona asked.

  Fenella shrugged and looked at her aunt. “I can’t keep it, whatever it is.”

  “Whyever not? It’s rude to give back gifts.”

  “But I barely know the man,” Fenella argued. “He shouldn’t be buying me presents, not until we get to know each other better.”

  “Oh, nonsense,” Mona replied. “Life is too short to worry about silly rules like that. If a man wants to buy you a gift, you should take it and enjoy it.”

  “What if there are strings attached?”

  “Ignore them,” Mona advised.

  “It isn’t that easy.”

  “Of course it is. Donald Donaldson can afford to buy you a whole house full of trinkets and never even notice a dip in his bank balance. If he were expecting some sort of quid pro quo for this, you’d already know about it.”

  “I still feel funny about it,” Fenella said.

  “Maybe you should open it before you get yourself all worked up about it,” Mona suggested. “If it’s a refrigerator magnet or a key ring, you won’t be nearly so bothered, will you?”

  “Well, no,” Fenella admitted with a laugh. She put the bag down on the nearest table and pulled out the neatly wrapped package. The wrapping paper was Manx plaid and she found herself unwrapping the gift carefully to keep the paper nice.

  “I could come back tomorrow, if you think you’ll have it opened by then,” Mona said sarcastically.

  Fenella stuck her tongue out at the woman and then ripped open the last bit of paper. She set the paper on the table and then looked at the small box she’d revealed.

  “It looks as if it’s jewelry,” Mona said excitedly.

  “Oh, I hope not,” Fenella said anxiously.

  She lifted the lid and then gasped. Inside the box was a gold pendant in a fancy Celtic design. A blue stone was set into the bail that held the pendant onto a heavy gold chain.

  “It’s very pretty,” Mona said.

  “It looks expensive,” Fenalla said.

  “I’m sure it was. Donald has good and expensive taste.”

  “I can’t keep it.”

  Mona sighed. “Here we go again,” she said. “Of course you can keep it. Try it on.”

  Fenella hesitated and then gave in to temptation. The necklace was beautiful and she loved the design and the sparkling stone. She couldn’t resist seeing how it looked on her neck.

  “It’s really pretty,” she said with a sigh as she modeled it in her bedroom mirror.

  “It is and it suits you,” Mona agreed. “You must remember to thank Donald the next time you see him.”

  “Yeah, that’s the part that worries me,” Fenella replied.

  Mona shook her head. “You worry too much. Just relax and enjoy life. This is meant to be a new beginning. Start by giving yourself permission to just enjoy whatever life brings without obsessing over every detail.”

  Fenella shrugged. “I don’t know if I can do that,” she said.

  “If you want something to worry about, worry about the murderer,” Mona told her. “He or she is still running around out there.”

  “I’d rather not think about that.”

  “But you should. I’m sure, if we tried, we could solve the case.”

  “We don’t have the first clue how to solve a murder,” Fenella said.

  “On the contrary, how many murder mysteries have you read in your lifetime?” Mona asked.

  “Oh, hundreds, but fiction is very different to real life.”

  “Is it? I’ve probably read thousands. I think, between us, we have a good chance of solving the case.”

  “And I think we should leave everything to Inspector Robinson. It’s his job and he’s far better equipped to deal with it than we are.”

  “We can at least talk about the suspects,” Mona argued. “I’ve been mulling them over. I have to admit that Mark Potter was my favorite, though. I don’t suppose he could have committed suicide?”

  Fenella thought back to the blood-soaked crime scene she’d discovered. “No, I don’t think so,” she said with a shudder.

  “Okay, so that lets him out, assuming the same killer killed both men.”

  “I’m going to start dinner,” Fenella said. “You can talk all you want, but I’m not interested.”

  “Oh
, come on. Indulge me for a minute or two. It’s okay for you; you get to go out to Castle Rushen and the Tale and Tail. I’m stuck here, day after day, with nothing to do but think. And all I can think about is murder. I’m worried about you. I want to see the killer behind bars soon.”

  “I do as well, but I can’t see where our talking about it is going to help in any way,” Fenella said.

  “It can’t hurt,” Mona replied. “And it’s quite interesting.”

  Fenella walked into the kitchen and smiled at the note that Shelly had left her.

  Katie and I played with her ball for half an hour before I gave her the food you left out. I also refilled her water with fresh. She was very well behaved. I’m happy to look after her anytime and if the owners don’t turn up and you decide not to keep her yourself, please let me know.

  “Ha,” Fenella said. “If her owners don’t turn up, she’s all mine.”

  “Yes, I do think you might want to get Shelly a kitten,” Mona said. “She was here for ages, playing with Katie. I think she’s rather lonely, really.”

  “I’m sure Mr. Stone will know where she could get an animal that needs a good home. I’ll have to ask him the next time I take Katie to see him.”

  “Assuming Katie’s owner doesn’t turn up,” Mona added.

  “Well, yes,” Fenella said with a frown. She was already far too attached to the small kitten. She needed to remember that Katie wasn’t really hers.

  “So, in detective stories they always focus on the three key points,” Mona said as Fenella sliced a chicken breast into pieces.

  “What key points?”

  “Means, motive and opportunity,” Mona told her. “That’s what we have to consider for each suspect.”

  “But we don’t know who the suspects are,” Fenella pointed out.

  “We know some of them,” Mona replied. “You need to ring the inspector and see what you can learn from him.”

  “He isn’t going to tell me anything about the investigation. I’m a suspect, if nothing else.”

  “Right, never mind, let’s talk about what we do know,” Mona said. “My favorite suspect was Mark Potter, and for the first murder, thanks to Kara Newstead, we know he didn’t have an alibi.”

  “We do? I don’t remember that.”