Page 66 of Murder Most Haunted
Midge and Noah shared a look.
‘Let’s get this suitcase upstairs, shall we? I’m freezing. And then you can both tell me how many ghosts you’ve seen.’
Bridie and Noah headed towards the stairs with Harold pullingher suitcase behind them, leaving Midge following along, wondering how to break the news to Bridie that the bath was out of action.
It didn’t take long for Bridie to unpack the small suitcase she had brought, giving Midge the opportunity to inventory her own handbag. In doing so, she discovered the abandoned glove from the mine excursion, which she quickly tucked into her handkerchief drawer with her other treasures. As she did so, she filled Bridie in on the discovery of Rendell and Dr Mortimer’s plan to get help.
‘So, you’re convinced someone murdered this Rendell?’ asked Bridie, her face turned away as she hung a dress in the wardrobe.
Midge shrugged, trying to find a space to sit down in a room that suddenly seemed a bit smaller. ‘Suicide doesn’t seem that likely.’
She briefly considered telling Bridie about her discovery of the false bathing room key, but was surprised to find that she wanted to keep it to herself. Midge wasn’t used to analysing her feelings, but for some reason she felt conflicted about Bridie’s sudden appearance.
‘But murder?’ Bridie was now looking through the chest of drawers. ‘Honestly, Midge, are these the only clothes you brought? No wonder the others think you need brightening up!’ Midge wasn’t sure when any of the others had thought that and said so, much to Bridie’s surprise as well as her own.
‘What about Rendell?’ Bridie ignored the outburst and asked again, this time with her back turned. ‘What do you think has happened to him?’
Midge kept her face as blank as possible, aware that Bridie was watching her reflection in the wardrobe mirror. ‘I’m not sure yet.’
Bridie sat down on the bed and patted the mattress next to her. ‘Oh, Midge, I have missed you.’
Midge instantly felt ashamed of her earlier reluctance to share.She took the opportunity of Bridie’s closeness to check for signs of the recent treatment on her face.
Suddenly, her face did contort, but because her foot had caught painfully against something under the bed. ‘What on earth is that?’
Midge bent over to check, realizing that Bridie had kicked the old Atherton painting. She dragged it out for Bridie to see. ‘It’s the Athertons in the bathing room. It was hanging over my bed and I couldn’t bear to sleep underneath it.’ Something jolted in her mind as she spoke. Something that was out of sorts.
Bridie shuddered, rubbing her ankle. ‘I don’t blame you – what a ghastly picture.’ She frowned at it for a moment. ‘How odd.’
‘What?’ asked Midge.
‘That,’ said Bridie, pointing. Just behind one of men was a maid, carrying a large bucket of steaming water, overlooked in the background. ‘Why would they insist on one of the maids being in the portrait with them?’
Midge stared. The maid was dressed head to toe in a lace-lined white uniform, complete with matching white blouse.
Bridie had straightened up, dismissing the painting. ‘Now, how about I make a late supper for everyone?’
‘That would be very nice, thank you,’ said Midge, pushing the portrait back under the bed and putting the discombobulated feeling down to Bridie’s unexpected appearance.
‘Have you been eating well?’ Bridie squeezed Midge’s thigh.
Midge sighed.
‘Now, Midge,’ laughed Bridie, ‘no sulking. I keep telling you how important it is to look after yourself. I’m not always going to be around and—’
‘Let’s go down,’ interrupted Midge, already heading for the door.
In the way that she had that always made Midge feel slightly envious, it only took Bridie a matter of minutes to make herself athome in the kitchen and with the others. Harold had joined them, chatting while Bridie gaily bossed Noah around, after insisting on him being her sous chef.
‘She’s a cracker,’ Harold whispered to Midge as they listened to her asking Noah question after question about ghost-hunting. ‘Are you sure she’s a lesbian?’
Midge watched Bridie as she instructed Noah on the quantity of onions to add to the wok. ‘Pretty sure, yes.’
‘The White Lady of Atherton Moor is an ancient legend, but it’s possible her form was taken by a woman called Beth Hallow, and she became a revenant,’ Noah was saying. ‘So, to stop a revenant, you need to help them fulfil a task that they were unable to do while alive.’
‘Gosh,’ said Bridie. ‘And you think that will stop all of the haunting?’
‘Absolutely,’ confirmed Noah. ‘But first we need to find out what the task is. We know from the doctor’s journal that Charles Atherton believed the White Lady was looking for her baby, and that she wanted him dead, but does that meanweneed to find the ba—?’
