by Helen Goltz
Holly went straight to the year of Alexander’s death – 1972. If only she knew the month. She grabbed her phone, went to the deceased search function at the cemetery he was buried in, and searched for him. She found him, and a photo of his headstone. Holly felt a weird stabbing pain, a sense of heartache. The rational part of her brain knew that he was dead, but seeing this meant he really was dead!
She looked up, took a deep breath and chastised herself for being stupid. ‘He’s a ghost, a ghost who needs your help… get on with it,’ she told herself. She checked for the date on his headstone and jotted it down. Righto. Holly returned her attention to the microfiche, scrolling to that month, and the date.
She expected the story to be on the front page, or early general news as it was called, and she was right. Two days after his death, it was a large headline on the front page – LOCAL SOLDIER DIES IN BELFAST – followed by a few paragraphs and a page number to direct readers to the rest of the story.
Holly felt her heart quicken; she was becoming far too emotionally attached to Alexander, it was insane. She’d end up being Loopy Lily at this rate, she mused. But then again, Alexander was looking for his wife, not Holly, so probably no fear of the two of them forming a life-long bond; well, her life, anyway given Alexander’s life was technically spent!
Before she increased the file size to read it, Holly looked around. She knew it was crazy, but she wanted privacy and didn’t want anyone asking what she was doing, or an unexpected ghost glancing over her shoulder. To her relief, she found that the coast was clear.
This was it, the article on the death of Sergeant Alexander Austen. She widened it to full screen and read:
Local soldier dies in Belfast
Well-known resident Sergeant Alexander Austen who resides in Findlater House on Findlater Lane was fatally injured on duty in Belfast yesterday.
The Austen name is long associated with the village, and Sergeant Austen and his wife, Meghan, moved into Findlater House two years ago with a view to following in their ancestor’s footsteps, contributing to the village and raising a family.
The Sergeant’s death is being investigated but it appears he died from a single stab wound to the heart, delivered from the front.
Mrs Austen was unavailable for comment but relatives of the Sergeant thanked the public and the Royal Victoria Hospital staff who came to his aid and did their best to save him.
A spokesperson from the military said Sergeant Austen’s death occurred during an incident in Belfast where several bombs caused panic and confusion in the streets.
Sergeant Austen died just after admission to the hospital. A military enquiry is underway. Funeral arrangements will be advised.
‘Wow,’ Holly said, quietly. It was surreal to read about his death. Now, she just needed to find an article about the official cause, get her hands on the coroner’s report and find out why Meg left the village. Simple, she thought, and sighed.
Love it when a plan comes together
Holly packed up for the day. Not because she had been at the library that long, maybe two hours at the most, but because the drama of what she was reading had to be absorbed incrementally.
She had a plan. She needed to do her research and thoroughly, so she could tell Alexander how he died accurately and sensitively. Then, and only then, would she have a reason to contact Meghan on the basis that she had historic information to share. If Meghan chose not to see her, well, that was her prerogative but at least she had a reason to put her foot in the door, Meghan’s door. Right this minute, though, she wanted to go to The Cup and Saucer and have tea and cake; she felt that she had earned it.
‘Find what you need?’ Abby asked her, as Holly came up to the front desk. Abby didn’t look quite so out of place with half of her black attire and boots hidden behind the counter.
‘I did, thank you. But there’s a lot more I need so I’ll be back. I’m just pacing myself,’ Holly said.
‘Well, we’re open every day. If I’m not here, Sebastian Cartwright the Third is in,’ Abby said.
Holly’s mouth dropped and then she laughed. ‘Really? Is that a person or a cat?’
Abby grinned. ‘Sebastian Cartwright the Third – Seb – is great, but he’s seventy-nine years of age and is very formal. So, I always call him by his full official title, he likes that.’
‘Formal? Do I have to curtesy to the gentry?’ Holly teased. She had a floral dress on which looked rather ridiculous next to Abby’s gothic fashion, but she dropped a quick curtsy, extending her skirt nevertheless, to show it could be done.
‘Oh, you’ve got it down,’ Abby said. ‘I suspect he’d appreciate it, but no, Seb is very laid back and he has a wicked sense of humour. I once found a paranormal zombie book shelved in the women’s self-help section!’
Holly laughed. ‘Cheeky.’
‘He can be,’ Abby agreed. ‘Seb had a very distinguished library career in London but he retired here, and likes to keep his hand in. Besides, he can’t bear a library to be closed, so it works out well for me, him and the community,’ Abby said. She had an idea, snapped her fingers and her eyebrows shot up. ‘Come to think of it, he’s an expert on history and he’s lived here now for a couple of decades, so he might be able to give you some first-hand insight to anything you are looking for. Just a thought. He’s in on Wednesday.’
‘That’s a great idea,’ Holly said. ‘Thanks, Abby, I’ll come back then and pick his brains!’
A woman with three young children came to the checkout desk; all of them had their arms full of books. She saw Holly’s surprised expression and explained, ‘We read a couple of books a night and if we run out, I have to make the stories up!’ She rolled her eyes.
‘Good Lord, no!’ Holly played along.
‘My thoughts exactly,’ the exhausted mum said. ‘This is a week’s worth!’
‘How wonderful! Well, I’ll leave you to the books. See you soon’, she said, with a nod to Abby. ‘By the way, you didn’t lose a quill, did you?’ Holly held up a replica of an old fashion pen, made with a long white feather.
‘Oh wow, that went missing months ago!’ Abby exclaimed. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘It found me, I think,’ Holly said, handing it over, pleased to have found its owner. ‘It was wedged down the side of the chair at the microfiche.’
‘How did you get there?’ Abby asked the quill, then returned her attention to Holly. ‘I do my book signings with this quill, it’s very special,’ she said, and smiled, grateful to have it returned. ‘I thought I’d left it at my last talk. Thank you.’
‘You’re an author? How exciting!’ Holly said. ‘Are your books in the library?’
‘They are. But they are all about vampires, ghosts, zombies, guardian angels and girls that kick butt… I like the fantasy genre,’ she said. ‘Let me know if you want to read one.’
Holly grinned. ‘Sounds like real life to me,’ she said, and this time Abby laughed at the thought.
‘Yep, you and Seb will get on very well.’ Abby nodded.
Holly left her stamping the children’s books; after all, tea and cake were calling Holly’s name.
The house was quiet when Holly entered after her café break. There was no sign of Alexander – no music playing, nothing left underfoot or evidence that he had been around.
She changed into more casual wear and fired up her laptop again. This afternoon, she was working on Esther’s beautiful missing necklace. She could almost feel those pearls around her own neck, they were so creamy and beautiful. Instinctively, her hand went to her throat where the necklace would rest; it was often how she found things… visualising them in their natural state.
Holly opened Esther’s folder and saw the handwritten scribbles on the first page – handwriting that wasn’t her own! It read: Check the family line – Bellerose of Paris.
She froze. Who wrote that? Alexander? Juliette when she was visiting?
She didn’t have time to call Juliette. She preferred to do
that on her afternoon walk on the beach so she could dedicate a good twenty minutes or more to agreeing that yes, Lucas was lovely. No, Juliette wouldn’t have had a chance to do her research and write this clue, it had to be Alexander. And when did he write this?
She made another cup of tea – she was quite the camel and could drink copious amounts of the amber fluid – and with her laptop warmed up, began to investigate the Bellerose family of Paris.
Alexander appeared, seated opposite her at the table and she jumped in fright.
He cleared his throat. ‘Sorry, incoming.’
‘A little late now, isn’t it?’ Holly said, drawing a deep breath. ‘Where have you been?’
‘Where have you been?’ he countered.
‘To the library, to do some research,’ Holly said. ‘I met Abby, the librarian.’
Alexander sat back in his chair and crossed his arms against his chest. ‘Abby… nope, can’t say I know her. When Meg and I lived here, the librarian was an old duck.’
‘Ah, that would have been Abby’s grandmother. She had a heart attack one day at work – clearly after your time – and Abby, who is a librarian as well, stayed on!’
‘Are you sure it was a heart attack and not a bloodless coup?’ Alexander asked, narrowing his eyes.
Holly grinned. ‘That’s a fairly drastic way to get a job, don’t you think? But you tell me, was there foul play?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows theatrically.
‘No, I’m just winding you up. She was a hundred when we lived here, so it was only natural that she’d drop over soon enough,’ he said.
Holly shook her head and returned her attention to her laptop.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘So sensitive.’
Alexander shrugged. ‘I’m dead, too, I can get away with it. What were you researching at the library?’
‘You,’ Holly said.
He brightened. ‘An interesting morning for you then!’
‘Indeed!’ Holly smiled. It was impossible to pretend to be affronted by Alexander, he just cut through her mood. She studied him without being too obvious. He really was very handsome but she’d be the last to tell him that. Imagine how big his head would get, she thought.
‘Yes, a fascinating morning,’ she continued, ‘but I’m not telling you anything until I know everything. Then I’ll share and then we will work out a strategy for Meg.’
‘Well, bollocks to that! How long will that take?’ he groaned.
‘Why? Are you worried you’ll get old waiting? That you’ll kick the bucket before I get results?’ she asked. ‘You are one of my few, make that my only client, who doesn’t have a deadline.’ She laughed at her own play on words.
‘Oh, ha-ha. Technically, that’s not quite true, I could be recalled,’ he said, looking skyward.
‘Can that happen?’ Holly asked, wide-eyed.
‘You never know,’ he said.
Holly scoffed. ‘You’re making that up.’ She sat back with her cup of tea. ‘Isn’t it beautiful in here? The light coming through the windows, the sun on the water, the froth rising as it hits the rocks.’ She sighed.
Alexander turned to look. ‘Yeah, lovely.’ He turned back. ‘So, did you find something?’ he asked.
Holly rolled her eyes and sat forward again, putting down her cup.
‘Yes, and I’m going back on Wednesday to do more research, and talk to a library historian who is in on that day,’ she said, making up an appropriate title for Sebastian Cartwright the Third. ‘What happens if you get recalled?’
‘Back to that? Is this your allocated question for working on my file?’
She frowned. ‘It’s tough. I don’t know if I want to waste my limited questions on that one. By the way, did you write this on Esther’s file,’ she pointed to the blue ink writing, ‘the name Bellerose?’
He nodded. ‘Thought I’d cut you a break.’
‘Thank you, Alexander!’ she said, pleased. ‘So why can’t you find out about your own death if you can find out snippets of history like this?’
‘It doesn’t work like that. We can’t access… ah-ha, you just tricked me into an answer. Mm… I’m onto you.’
Holly grinned. ‘Okay then. Well, who is the Bellerose family? What’s the story?’
‘I can’t do your job for you, that’s for you to find out, but my source is reliable,’ he said, tapping his nose.
‘Thanks again, that’s great to have a head start.’
‘Yeah, don’t mention it. The quicker you finish that case, the more time you have to spend on me. Anyway, got to go,’ he said.
‘Where?’ Holly asked, but he had vanished before she had finished the question. She sat alone with the afternoon light pouring in and felt content. Outside, she could hear the waves crashing against the rocks. The tide was in, and the village was back to its normal, peaceful state with the weekend tourists gone.
I wonder where he goes and what he does when he’s not here? she mused. Maybe that’s my next allowed question.
Holly glanced at the clock; it was just after 2 pm. She liked a structured day, so she planned to keep working until 4 pm and then take her afternoon walk along the beach. ‘Right, two hours on Esther’s file,’ she said to herself, and marked the hours on the front of Esther’s file for billing.
‘To work!’ she declared.
Just before her 4 pm walk, her phone pinged with a message.
She smiled as she read Juliette’s note. Coming this weekend to see you and Luke. She had inserted a smiley face. Can I stay Friday night? Might not need to stay Saturday night if I get lucky! and another smiley face.
Holly messaged straight back. Absolutely! Looking forward to it. Bet Luke is too and inserted her own smiley face and a kiss or two.
A green delivery
Holly was a morning person, usually up and jogging before 7 am – most days before 6.30 am – but the sound of a van pulling up out the front at 6 am had her jumping out of bed. The side of the van featured the logo How Does Your Garden Grow? and Luke slid out of the driver’s seat accompanied by two other staff members, who were squeezed on the front bench seat with him.
‘They’re here!’ Holly exclaimed and quickly pulled on her running gear and a sweatshirt. She raced down the stairs, and Alexander appeared just before she opened the front door.
‘What’s going on? Everything okay?’ He looked around, alarmed.
‘Yes, good morning! The plants are here,’ she said, excited and clapped her hands.
‘Christ, I thought we were being raided and I’d have to hide my stash,’ he said, and rolled his eyes.
Holly stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him, confused. He opened the front door for her and she stepped out – with a quick backward glance to Alexander. She greeted the delivery guys and Luke. He beamed at her; after all. Holly was the source of introduction to his new romance and current happiness.
‘I come bearing greenery,’ he said, ‘and labour.’
‘Fantastic!’ Holly said. ‘How exciting.’
Luke introduced his staff. ‘This is James Johnson, call him J.J., and Michael Batton, he prefers Mick.’
Holly nodded. ‘J.J., Mick… I’m Holly.’
‘We know.’ J.J. grinned at her. ‘We’ve heard all about you and your best friend.’ He rolled his eyes with exaggeration. Luke reddened and thumped J.J.’s arm.
‘So, this delivery is for you, I believe,’ Mick said, opening the back of the van with a flourish. Holly moved around the back of the van and looked in.
‘It’s a forest!’ she declared and they laughed. She felt a cold rush of air beside her and turned to see Alexander; no one else could see him. He nodded, impressed.
J.J. and Mick started unloading, while Luke grabbed his clipboard and got Holly to sign to say the delivery had arrived.
‘You know everyone around here complains about the sandy soil, but the best thing about this delivery,’ Luke said, watching as it was being hauled out of the van, ‘is that by the t
ime we leave in a couple of hours, you’ve got an instantly beautiful garden. Pots are great for that.’
‘It’s going to make such a difference, Luke. Thanks!’ Holly agreed.
Luke threw the clipboard and pen back on the front seat, and rejoined her.
‘So, Juliette’s back this weekend. What do you say about a double date on Friday night? You know, just a chilled-out group of four friends, having a drink and dinner?’ he asked, clarifying the double date comment when he read her reluctance.
‘Um, I don’t have a partner,’ she said, her eyes wide with alarm. She felt Alexander disappear beside her. Surely Luke couldn’t see him?
Luke continued. ‘I know, Juliette told me. But J.J. is free Friday night and wouldn’t mind a quiet drink or two. No pressure, but what do you think?’
Holly glanced over at the guy of about her own age who was carrying huge potted plants out of the back of the truck. His muscles were flexed, his legs strong, he was fit and handsome. A baseball cap hid his hair and he wasn’t as tall as Holly would have liked, but hey, they weren’t getting married, just making up a group for a night out.
‘Sure, sounds great,’ she said with a small shrug, and turned back to Luke. ‘But I’m up for a quiet night on Saturday night, so if you and Juliette wanted to do your own thing… no pressure to have her home,’ she said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
‘I’m hearing you, thanks,’ Luke said, with a grin.
‘I’m off for a run. I’m guessing you’ll be here when I come back?’
‘For sure. We’ll be here for about three or four hours. We should be done by then,’ Luke said, taking photos for his before and after album at the nursery. ‘Run hard,’ he said.
‘Always,’ she agreed. ‘Okay, well, most times…’
He laughed again. She saw J.J. and Mick look her way as she started off running. It was good for her ego.
She felt happy. It was all coming together. She had a cottage she loved for the next six months; good company at home, even if it was a ghost; work already and she hadn’t counted on getting any assignments at least for a few months; a happy best friend; and a new garden. And something to do Friday night. Yep, Findlater House was showing her a good time.