Page 71 of Murder Most Haunted
Midge swung her legs round to the side of the bed, getting ready to find her shoes, and then stopped. There was an odd noise coming from the bathroom.
Bridie was being sick in the toilet.
Midge shoved her feet into her shoes and grabbed her cane, wobbling to the bathroom and pulling open the door. Her wife was leaning over the toilet bowl, her lovely hair slick with sweat against her face. ‘Good morning,’ she said, attempting to wipe her mouth. ‘Fancy a snog?’
‘Have you taken your pills?’ Midge asked, pouring a glass of water and holding it up, only to be waved away.
‘They don’t do anything,’ said Bridie.
‘They’re supposed to help with the sickness,’ said Midge, helping Bridie up and leading her back into the bedroom.
Bridie grimaced. ‘I’ll be fine in a minute, Midge, stop fussing. Honestly, it’s like having a giant bumblebee buzzing around me.’
Midge, suddenly feeling five times larger, went into the bathroom and returned with Bridie’s washbag.
‘Leave it, Midge,’ she snapped, closing her eyes briefly as she rested her head back. ‘We’ve got a ghost or murderer to catch – honestly, I can’t make up my mind.’
‘Please don’t tell me you think this is all the work of a ghost. You’re as bad as the others,’ said Midge. ‘Are the pills in here?’ She pulled the zip back on the washbag, rifling through Bridie’s toothbrush and face creams before pulling out two identical pill containers, one empty and the other full. ‘What’s this?’ she frowned, not recognizing the label on them.
Bridie glanced over before quickly looking away. ‘It’s a new pill, someone at the support group recommended them.’
Midge stared at the label. ‘Someone? Do you mean a doctor?’
Bridie shrugged and fidgeted with the blanket. ‘You know what, Midge? I think I would like a cup of tea, please.’
Midge opened her mouth, but Bridie had closed her eyes again and looked so worn out that she said nothing, instead getting quickly dressed and leaving the room.
She was surprised to find Noah and Rona already up and atthe kitchen table, deep in conversation, which stopped as soon as they saw Midge.
‘You two are up early,’ she said.
‘I thought we’d all overslept,’ said Noah. ‘That stupid grandfather clock has broken.’
‘He’s in a terrible mood,’ muttered Rona, giving Midge a hug and shooting her eyes towards Noah. ‘He’s trying to work out what the ghost has done with his camera.’
Midge waited for Rona to let go of her and wondered whether she would be able to eat something in the time it took for the kettle to boil. It occurred to her that she had been hugged more in this weekend than she had her entire life.
‘We don’t know who was in his room,’ said Midge. ‘And the camera was stolen, not moved. Is your ankle better?’
‘Much, thank you,’ replied Rona.
‘Beth... the White Lady of the Moor, if they are one and the same, is definitely a poltergeist,’ said Noah. ‘They communicate by moving things. It’s trying its hardest to speak with us.’
‘Do they knock people over as well?’ asked Midge. ‘It would take something fairly substantial to do that, and I didn’t imagine being clattered into.’
‘How else would whatever knocked you over have just disappeared?’ asked Rona. ‘Whichever direction it had gone in the corridor, it would have been seen by either you, me or the doctor.’
That was bothering Midge too. Not for one second did she entertain the idea that it had been a ghost in the room, but why had no one else seen Noah’s assailant making their escape?
‘Transmutation,’ announced Noah, chewing on some toast.
‘Pardon?’ asked Rona.
‘It’s where the ghost transforms into a physical object or person.’
Midge blinked. ‘Are you suggesting that myself, Rona or Dr Mortimer has been taken over by a ghost?’
‘No!’ Noah held his hand up. ‘That would be a possession. And there would still be a trail of ectoplasm.’
