Page 68 of Murder Most Haunted
There it was.
‘Recovering,’ replied Midge. ‘She’s in recovery.’
‘If you say so.’ Bridie pursed her lips together.
Midge thought about Bridie’s words. Was Rona using again? She had been acting differently today, but then everyone was understandably nervous because of what had happened. ‘I have no evidence that she is high,’ replied Midge.
Bridie opened her mouth and then shrugged. ‘OK.’
Suddenly Midge didn’t want to talk any more, but she didn’t really know why. Fortunately, Bridie yawned and said, ‘I think it would be a good idea to go to bed now.’
For some reason that she couldn’t explain, a small stubbornpart of Midge didn’t want to go to bed purely because she had been told to. She heard the grandfather clock chiming 10 p.m. from the hallway. ‘It’s only ten,’ she said, taking her glass to the sink and refilling it.
Bridie frowned and looked at her watch. ‘No, it’s ten thirty. The clock must be slow.’ She held out her arm. ‘Shall we, old girl?’ The familiar words seemed odd in the kitchen and out of place with the mood.
‘I’ll just do the lights,’ muttered Midge. ‘You go up. I’ve an unfinished crossword. We could work on that together, in bed.’
‘Wonderful,’ sighed Bridie. ‘But it’s been a long journey, perhaps I’ll give that a miss.’
Which suited Midge – Bridie tended to get rather competitive.
They met Noah by the stairs.
‘Off to bed?’ he asked. ‘Me too. Not much of a holiday for you,’ he said to Bridie.
She smiled. ‘Change is as good as a rest, even a bizarre one like this.’
Noah nodded. ‘Well, I’m still hoping to catch a sighting of the White Lady,’ he said, adding glumly, ‘Before the doctor brings in the police and we have to leave.’
‘You haven’t seen the ghost?’ asked Bridie. ‘What is it they say? Always the bridesmaid, never the bride?’
‘I wasn’t trying to marry it.’
‘He’s asexual,’ explained Midge.
‘That’s not someone who fancies ghosts, by the way,’ said Noah. ‘That’s actually a spectrophile, although I always think they should be called paramourmals... that’s a little joke of mine.’
Bridie laughed far more excessively than Midge believed the pun warranted.
She watched the two of them climb the stairs before turning to the drawing room, preparing to switch off the lights. A sudden noise stopped her in her tracks. Someone was inside the roomand muttering angrily to themselves. She stood to the side of the door and peered round.
Inside, Rona was standing over the chaise longue, rummaging through the doctor’s medical bag and so focused on her search that she wasn’t aware of Midge until she cleared her throat. ‘What are you doing, Rona?’
With a shriek of surprise, Rona dropped the bag, emptying the contents out all over the floor with a clatter. ‘Oh bother!’ she exclaimed, and started to shovel things back into it. ‘Midge! What are you doing creeping up on people like that?’
‘I wasn’t creeping,’ said Midge, feeling the description was unfair. ‘I was observing. Why are you going through the doctor’s bag?’
‘Gloria can’t find her spare insulin pump.’ Rona kept her back to her as she spoke. ‘She thought it might be in the bag.’
‘Isn’t that it over there?’ Midge pointed. ‘It’s on the oak dresser.’
‘Oh! Right, thanks,’ she said, her hands still busy with the medical bag. ‘So, what are you doing here?’
‘I was switching the lights off. Couldn’t the doctor have got it for her?’
Rona shrugged. ‘He wasn’t there.’
Despite having returned everything to the bag, Rona still seemed reluctant to retrieve the pump and leave.
