“It seems as if the entire island must be by the sea,” Fenella said with a laugh. “The island isn’t that big, really.”
“It’s about fourteen miles across and about thirty-two miles wide,” Peter told her. “We couldn’t even see the sea from our house in Douglas, and that’s true for large parts of the island.”
“I really need to get out and explore the island,” Fenella sighed. “I haven’t been anywhere, aside from one visit to Castletown. I do walk around Douglas sometimes, but I haven’t gone very far. I either need to get driving or start walking a good deal more, I think.”
“We do have some excellent taxi firms, as well,” Peter said as he unlocked the car. “I can recommend someone to you who can set you up with an account that you can pay monthly, if that interests you.”
“It sounds good, but perhaps too tempting,” Fenella replied. “I could end up going all over the place and running up a huge bill. I do need to find a good taxi service, though. If nothing else, it would mean I could go grocery shopping once in a while and buy more than I can easily carry.”
“You should have said something,” Peter said. “I go shopping almost every Sunday afternoon. I’m more than happy to take you along.”
“I don’t want to impose on anyone,” Fenella told him.
“Don’t be silly. How can it be an imposition when you live right next door? I don’t have to move my car to collect you or to drop you off and I’m already going anyway. No more arguing; starting this weekend, I’ll happily take you shopping any Sunday you’d like to go.”
Fenella opened her mouth to object, but decided against it. If she wasn’t comfortable taking him up on the offer, she simply didn’t have to go along.
Peter started the car and began the short journey along the causeway.
“All of the little boats are pretty,” Fenella said as they drove.
“I have friends with boats here and in Douglas. Maybe you’d like to go sailing sometime?”
Fenella thought about her short stay on the ferry and shook her head. “I don’t think I’m a very good sailor,” she said. “I’m probably better off on dry land.”
Peter found a parking spot in a large public lot near the pub. “I’ll move the car over to the car park for the House of Manannan after lunch,” he told her.
That suited Fenella, although the museum was only a short distance away from where he’d left the car. The pub was somewhat dark, especially after being outdoors, so when they walked in it took Fenella’s eyes a few minutes to adjust.
“Just sit anywhere,” the man behind the bar called. “Order from the bar when you’re ready.”
Peter led Fenella to a small table in the corner and then went to the bar for menus. He handed her one when he returned, before sitting down opposite her.
“What’s good?” she asked.
“If you ever wanted to try kippers, this is the place,” Peter told her.
“What are kippers?” Fenella asked.
“Smoked herring,” the man replied. “They’re a local delicacy. There’s an entire section of the museum next door devoted to them.”
Fenella wrinkled her nose. “I don’t really like seafood much,” she said apologetically. “My mother didn’t like it, so she didn’t ever cook it. My father wasn’t one to argue, as long as there was food on the table when he got home from work.”
“They do a nice chicken casserole,” Peter said. “Or steak and kidney pie.”
“Chicken casserole sounds good,” Fenella said. “It’s just cold enough outside still that something like that will really hit the spot.”
“I think you’ll find that it never really gets all that hot,” Peter told her. “There will probably only be a few days in the summer when something like chicken casserole won’t sound good.”
“That sounds about right for me,” Fenella told him. “Buffalo summers can get very hot indeed. We had air conditioning, which helped, but when it’s eighty-five or ninety outside all you want to do is sit in the A/C and sip lemonade.”
“I suspect if it ever hit eighty-five over here, the entire island would melt,” Peter laughed. “With all this water around us, I’m not even sure it’s possible.”
“Does that mean that our apartments don’t have air conditioning?” she asked.
“They do, actually,” Peter told her. “Or so I’m told. I’ve never actually tried to use it, but there is a switch on the temperature controls to turn it on and off.”
Peter went back to the bar to order their drinks and food while Fenella surveyed the room. It was small, with only a dozen or so tables. Another ten people could sit at the bar, although at the moment only one person was taking advantage of that fact.
“I can’t imagine a place this small doing well in Buffalo,” she said to Peter when he rejoined her. “They don’t have enough room to do very much business.”
“You’ll find lots of small businesses like this all over the island,” he replied. “They don’t need a lot of staff, so they can keep their overhead low.”
“They still have to pay for heat and electricity and the like,” Fenella argued.
“In this case, the man behind the bar is also the owner. He and his wife live in the flat above the pub. Their daughter helps out behind the bar some nights and on weekends in the summer. I’m sure they aren’t getting rich, but they make enough to get by.”
Peter had brought back their drinks. “Did they not have ice?” Fenella asked as she sipped her soda.
“Did you want ice?” he asked. “I didn’t think to ask, but I’m sure they’ll have it if you want it.”
“You have to ask for ice?”
“Well, yes,” Peter said. “And now that you mention it, I do recall visiting New York City once and being surprised that everywhere I went I was given a huge amount of ice in every glass.”
“It’s ice,” Fenella said. “It belongs in cold drinks. But what were you doing in New York City?”
“Working,” he replied. “Which is pretty much what I do all the time, everywhere. I’m trying to cut back, but, well, I love what I do, which makes it hard to stop.”
“Why stop if you love it?”
“My doctor wants me to cut back,” he said, waving a hand. “He worries about my blood pressure and how much stress I have in my life.”
Before Fenella could ask any more questions, the man from behind the bar appeared, carrying two very full bowls.
“Two chicken casseroles,” he said, setting the plates on the table. “Give me a shout if you need anything.”
“I think I need a hungry friend,” Fenella said as she looked at the enormous serving she’d been given.
“You can always take the extra home for Katie,” Peter suggested.
“I don’t think people food is good for Katie,” Fenella replied. “But I might take the extra home for me.”
Peter laughed and then the pair concentrated on eating. The food was excellent and while they ate they chatted about television and movies and nothing much. When both bowls were empty, Peter grinned at her.
“How about pudding?” he asked.
Fenella smiled. She was finally getting used to the word, at least. “I’m too full for pudding,” she said, although in her head she thought “dessert.”
“We could split something,” Peter suggested. “They do a wonderful jam roly-poly.”
“Which is what?” Fenella asked.
“Suet pudding, spread with jam, and then rolled up and steamed,” he told her.
“That doesn’t sound especially nice,” Fenella replied.
“They’ll serve it with a generous helping of custard,” he added.
“Still not terribly tempting,” Fenella laughed. “But as I’m quite full, that’s probably good.”
“I’ll get it and you can take a bite or two; how about that?” Peter offered.
“I suppose I should, just for educational purposes,” Fenella agreed.
When the pudding was delivered a few minu
tes later, it looked considerably better than Fenella had expected. Peter pushed it into the center of the table and handed Fenella a fork.
“Take a bite,” he urged her.
She scooped up a small piece and popped it in her mouth. “Delicious,” she said, embarrassed that she sounded so surprised.
“Have as much as you like,” Peter told her as he took his first bite.
“I am rather full,” she protested as she forked up a slightly larger mouthful.
The pudding was gone in very short order. Fenella was just scraping up the last of the custard when Peter’s phone rang. He frowned at it and then answered the call. After a short conversation, he dropped it back in his pocket and sighed deeply.
“Something’s come up,” Fenella guessed.
“Yes, and it’s rather important, actually,” he told her. “I’m going to have to get back to Douglas, I’m afraid.”
“It’s fine,” Fenella insisted. “I’ll get to the House of Manannan another day. I’m sure I’m too stuffed to appreciate it anyway.”
“I can leave you there and you can get a taxi home,” Peter suggested.
Fenella thought about it and then shook her head. “I left Katie some extra dry food, but knowing her, she’s eaten that and won’t be happy being left until dinner time for more. I’d better get back as well.”
They were back in Peter’s car before Fenella had a thought. “But what about paying for lunch?” she asked.
“I paid when I ordered,” Peter explained.
“But I was going to pay for lunch,” Fenella complained.
“You’ll have to pay next time,” Peter told her with a grin.
The drive back seemed to go by very quickly. When they reached the promenade, Fenella insisted that Peter drop her off at the far end so that he could get to his office. “I’m more than happy to walk home,” she told him. “I ate far too much lunch.”
“Maybe we can go to the pub tonight,” he said. “I’ll stop by later, if I can.”
Fenella walked slowly, enjoying watching and listening to the sea, until a light rain began to fall. As she picked up her pace, the rain seemed to pick up as well. Feeling too full to walk any faster, she resigned herself to getting soaked and tried to enjoy the experience.
She was mostly unsuccessful, however, and when she finally walked into the lobby of her building she was feeling quite cross with the world. The elevator seemed to take forever to arrive and Fenella was very conscious that she was dripping all over the lobby floor as she waited.
As she walked down the corridor to her apartment, she could hear a telephone ringing. At her door, as she dug around for her keycard, she realized it was her phone that she could hear. Of course, that made it nearly impossible for her to find the stupid card. Sighing deeply, she finally dug out the card as the phone went silent.
9
Of course, whoever it was didn’t bother to leave a message. Fenella kicked off her shoes and frowned at the answering machine. What was the point in having the device if people weren’t going to use it?
“Your phone has been ringing all afternoon,” Mona said crossly from her seat near the window. “It’s incredibly annoying.”
“You bought the phone,” Fenella pointed out. “And the answering machine that no one uses.”
Mona shrugged. “The phone wasn’t nearly as annoying when I could answer it,” she said. “Although I must say, I wasn’t often home when it rang. My friends used the answering machine, of course.”
“As I’ve no idea who has been calling, I can’t possibly be expected to apologize for their behavior,” Fenella said. “I suspect they’ve all been insurance salesmen or some such thing.”
“How was your trip to Peel, then?” Mona asked. “I wasn’t expecting you back until later.”
“Peter got a phone call and had to come back to sort something out for work,” Fenella explained. “But Peel Castle was wonderful.”
“Maybe I’ll have to go and have another look at it,” Mona said. “I haven’t been out there in years.”
Fenella wanted to ask her aunt a dozen questions about how that would work, like could she fly or just magically transport herself or what, but whenever she asked Mona about being a ghost, Mona always teased her with her answers. Instead, she shrugged and went into the kitchen to make sure that Katie had something to eat and water in her bowl. She’d just refilled Katie’s water when the phone began to ring again.
“Hello?”
“May I speak to Fenella Woods, please,” a voice on the other end of the line said.
“Speaking,” she replied, readying herself to politely refuse whatever the caller was selling.
“This is Jessica Harris with the Isle of Man Ferry Company. How are you today?”
“Fine,” Fenella said hesitantly. What did the ferry company want?
“Excellent, that’s good to hear. I know that the unpleasantness on Saturday must have been upsetting for you. I’m just ringing to make certain that you’re okay,” the woman said.
Fenella raised an eyebrow. Surely the ferry company wasn’t worried about her suing them, were they? “I’m fine,” she said slowly.
“Captain Howard is, of course, conducting his own internal investigation into what happened,” Jessica continued. “He was hoping you might be willing to attend a small meeting tomorrow morning to discuss the matter.”
“I thought the police were handling the investigation,” Fenella said.
“Of course, the police are investigating the murder,” Jessica said. “But Captain Howard is quite concerned as to how Mr. Grosso managed to be on board the vessel well before passengers were meant to be admitted. He also wants to determine how the man came to be in someone else’s cabin. I’m sure you can understand that there are several issues that are of interest to the ferry company that are not of interest to the police as they investigate the man’s unfortunate death.”
“I suppose so,” Fenella said, knowing she sounded as doubtful as she felt.
“Very good,” Jessica said briskly. “So you’ll come to the meeting and help us with our investigation?”
“When is it?” Fenella asked.
“Tomorrow morning at eight,” the girl said. “It will be here, at the ferry terminal building. Just tell the girls in the ticket office that you’re here to see Captain Howard and you’ll be shown to the right place.”
“Will there be any police officers there?” Fenella asked.
“As I said, this is an internal investigation. There’s no need for the police to attend.”
Fenella agreed to be there and then disconnected, wondering whether she should let Daniel know about the meeting.
“What was all that about?” Mona asked.
Fenella explained about the internal investigation and the meeting set for the next morning. “The question is, do I call Daniel and tell him about it or not?” she asked her aunt when she was finished.
“I think you should ring him,” Mona said. “If nothing else, it gives you a good excuse to talk to the man.”
“I’m not looking for excuses,” Fenella said, blushing.
“Of course not,” Mona said with a wink.
“I’m not,” Fenella said, feeling cross. “I’m just concerned that the ferry company and the captain are poking their noses into a murder investigation. I know from my own experience how dangerous that can be.”
“Yes, I see your point,” Mona said. “I think you should ring him straight away.”
Fenella rolled her eyes at Mona and went back into the kitchen, more to get away from the woman than for any other reason. She added more fresh water to Katie’s bowl and put a fresh handful of dry food out as well.
“Where’s Katie?” she asked her aunt, as she realized that she hadn’t seen the kitten since she’d been home.
“I didn’t realize I had to look after her,” Mona said. “I think she’s in your bedroom.”
Fenella walked into the large master bedroom and gasped. Katie wasn�
�t anywhere visible, but she’d clearly been there. It looked as if the kitten had found the toilet paper roll in the adjoining bathroom and decided to play with it. The bedroom floor was covered in tiny bits of toilet paper, ranging in size from entire squares to nearly microscopic pieces.
“Katie!” Fenella shouted.
“Merow,” a muffled voice replied.
“Where are you?” Fenella demanded.
“Meeeoowww,” was the muted reply.
“Whatever happened?” Mona asked from the doorway.
“I think she decided to have some fun with the toilet paper,” Fenella replied. “It might be best to leave the bathroom door shut in the future.”
“Yes, indeed,” Mona said. “For once, I’m not sorry that I’m intangible. Otherwise, I would feel as if I should help with the clearing up.”
“First I need to find Katie, though,” Fenella said. She looked under the various pieces of furniture but couldn’t spot the little black cat. “Okay, Katie, where are you?” she asked again.
After a moment, Katie’s little head appeared from behind one of the thick curtains at the window. “Merow,” she said softly, hanging her head.
“You know exactly what you did wrong and that I’m quite cross, don’t you?” Fenella said sternly.
Katie looked up at her and then quickly looked back down at the ground.
“No special treats for a week,” Fenella said firmly. “And no new toys, either.”
Katie stared at her for a moment and then glanced around the room at the mess. “Yooowww,” she said, sounding surprised.
“It’s no good pretending you didn’t do it,” Fenella told her. She turned and went to get trash bags and the vacuum cleaner. Half an hour later, the mess was gone, but Fenella was still feeling cross.
“It was only half a roll of paper,” she said to Mona. “Imagine if it had been a full roll.”
“Perhaps keeping a kitten isn’t the best idea,” Mona said. “She was probably just bored, but you can’t be expected to keep her entertained all of the time.”
“Maybe I was out for too long,” Fenella said thoughtfully. “Especially after leaving her with Shelly the other morning. The poor little thing is probably just confused.”
An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - ABC Page 37